Chapter Text
Sirius quietly snuck into the bathroom, hand under his nose and cheeks hot with dried tears.
He quietly closed the door and turned the light on, ignoring his gaunt reflection in the mirror. He sat down, back against the cabinets. The tile was cold but grounding. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing, given what he was planning to do.
He pulled the letters out of the waistband of his pajamas and looked over them. James. Peter. Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Regulus. Remus. The only people who would care about his existence, or rather lack thereof, in a small pile in his hand. He knew this was unfair to them but he reassured himself that they would soon move on. Maybe the boys could even get some time off of school to grieve.
Peter would finally get the position in the friendship he so desperately sought after. James wouldn’t have to worry about sharing his parents with him. Remus wouldn’t have to fear his lack of self control, whether it be holding back romantic urges or controlling sporadic spouts of information that would reflect cruelly on all of them. His parents would finally be able to officially claim that Regulus is their eldest, and Reg would look so good next to his coward brother whose memory would only be kept aflame by the singed mark of disappointment on the family tapestry.
He grabbed a small, crumpled piece of parchment out from under the stack of letters and hastily wrote a simple note. He turned off the lights when he opened the door, making sure he didn’t wake anyone up, and stuck it to the door using a simple tacking charm.
Once he was back in the bathroom, he put up a silencing charm and the strongest locking wards he knew. His magic always spiked dangerously when he was emotional, and he wondered if it would have the same effect with these spells now. He hoped it did. He didn’t want to risk one of his friends ignoring the note and bursting in, seeing him.
He carefully laid out the letters on the counter next to the sink. His hands were shaking, but he couldn’t tell if it was due to adrenaline, excitement, or even just the instinctive physical response of knowing that he was going to die.
He slowly crouched and opened the bottom drawer gently. He dug through to the back, pulling out small piles of toiletries and old messy brushes, until finally he found what he was looking for.
Sometime during last year he had nicked a knife from the kitchen on one of their late night snack raids. He had some far away plan for what he was going to use it for, but never genuinely considered it until last week. He slowly grabbed it by the handle and brought it out. He knew there were much more simple and clean ways to go, but he deserved it.
It was his fault Snape knew. It was his fault Remus could’ve been expelled. It was his fault that James was hurt. He betrayed his closest friends out of impulse and he was a danger to them. He flipped the small knife over in his hand, testing the blade on his finger tip and sighing in relief at the pull of skin and silent release. The small incision was only the size of a paper cut, but slightly deeper judging by the blood beading up inline with the cut.
With the knife clutched tightly in his fist he leaned forward on the counter, finally looking in the mirror. The skin around his eyes was puffy and red, wet eyelashes clumped together. His cheeks were blotchy but still maintained the shocking pale skin that he had developed after desperately avoiding the other boys and staying inside to escape confrontation. The circles under his eyes were dark but the sharp line of exhaustion was the most noticeable as it traced from his tear ducts, scooping down and up again to the outer corner of his eye.
To put it plainly, he looked like shit.
He supposed he only looked like how he felt. The stabbing pain of guilt and regret had been targeting his solar plexus, sometimes making it feel as though his ribcage was being pulled apart or like his neck and face had been set on fire. The searing knife of embarrassment wound it’s way up into this throat every time he made eye contact with one of his old friends and was reminded of everything that had happened; everything that he’d done.
Looking at himself, a neuron fired on impulse and he didn’t even have time to rationalize before his fist hit its reflection. Shattered glass shot down around him, splintering and slicing as it went. Pieces of the mirror crashed and spun on the counter, sliding into the sink and around on the floor.
The empty frame before him still held serrated edges of broken glass. He blinked hard and took a step back. Fragments on the floor around him jammed their sharp heads into the pads of his feet, disturbing the crisp texture of the chilled floor. His knuckles began to throb and heat up. He flexed his fingers before looking down.
The fist was turning red and only paled in comparison to the lines of blood snaking their way down his hand from his middle knuckle and small cuts on the surrounding fingers. As he moved his fingers he could feel minuscule shards stuck beneath his skin.
As he was watching his hand, it brought up a memory he had tried so hard to shove down.
Earlier in the week the boys had thrown a party. Sirius had been surprised to find that everyone above 3rd year was allowed to come, and that he wasn’t specifically excluded. His appearance at the common room party was much more discreet than anything he’d done before. Usually when entering a party he’d be sure to announce himself with some dramatic entrance because of the pushing desire to get all eyes on him.
That night though, he simply got ready quietly in the dorm bathroom after the other boys had gone to prepare the common room. Once he heard the party was in full swing, he carefully slipped down the stairs and listened for any familiar walking patterns. He finally made it down and observed the scene before him.
The air was thick with warmth and the smell of alcohol. The record player that he heard them struggling to bring down was set up in a corner, no doubt amplified by a spell. People were swaying in the center of the room, and others had taken the liberty of spreading out around the couches and by the fireplace. It was fairly mellow compared to their other parties, he thought, but maybe he just felt out of place.
Peter was handling drinks. He had been fairly neutral on the situation, so Sirius thought it would be okay to approach him. It went smoother than he could have expected.
“Hi Sirius!” Peter smiled at him brightly. That was a good sign.
“Hey Pete. Mind making me a drink?”
“I’ll get right on it. Do you have anything special in mind?” Peter always offered this, but considering the fact that no matter what Sirius said he was going to end up with some sort of mystery drink in his hand, he just shook his head.
“Alright,” he watched as the other boy grabbed bottles from the table in front of him and mixed them in a plastic cup. He leaned against the table and turned to look around. He spotted a head of dark, wild curls that he recognized to be James talking to some other kids on the couches around him. Sirius watched as his head occasionally twisted to follow Evans as she made her way around the common room with her group of girls.
He looked around for Remus but had no luck before Peter set his drink on the table and grinned at Sirius. He nodded at him and stepped away from the table, making his way around the room.
He drank and wandered, eventually reaching the bottom of his cup with a warm feeling in his stomach that made his fingertips tingle. He looked down and flexed his hands.
“Sirius?” His head whipped up at the familiar voice.
“Remus,” he said with a new appreciation for the drink in his system.
“What are you...” Remus trailed off, words slurred more than Sirius’. The music paused, the vinyl slowly floated off of the turntable and into its sleeve as another one was pulled into place.
“I assumed it would be okay if I came? I can leave if I’m making you guys uncomfortable or something but-“ he paused as the needle clicked into place on the record with a static thump and the first song began playing.
As soon as Sirius had revealed his new turntable, Remus was amazed. They agreed on shared custody over the player itself and the records they received, whether from Andromeda or Remus’ dads ancient library from home. As soon as Sirius heard of Elton John’s new album (which was a bit late considering the strict policy on nothing muggle or queer in his household), he got it for the both of them. They had both loved it and would jump around the dorm room to Take Me To The Pilot and The Cage.
The light piano that began Your Song startled both of them.
It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside
Sirius knew Remus was remembering the same thing.
I’m not one of those who can easily hide
They used to lay on their backs, humming the words to each other until the the soft rhythm and Elton John’s words were gently pressed into their memory alongside the soft curves of the others face.
I don’t have much money, but, boy, if I did
I’d buy a big house where we both could live
Sirius didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the song or just Remus, but he grabbed his hand and pulled him to the side.
If I was a sculptor, heh, but then again, no
Or a man who makes potions in a traveling show
“Can we talk?” Sirius asked quietly.
“I don’t- I don’t really want to. Not right now.”
“Oh,” Sirius said, pulling away.
“It’s not that- fuck. I just need time, I think? But I miss you,” Remus said, stumbling closer. Sirius could smell the Firewhiskey on his breath.
I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do
My gift is my song, and this one’s for you
“I’ve missed you too,” Sirius sighed. Looking up at Remus he could tell that he wasn’t thinking properly but his words felt so reassuring that Sirius couldn’t break away.
And you can tell everybody this is your song
It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done
Remus moved his hands to Sirius’ shoulders and began to sway as the music picked up. In turn, Sirius slowly moved his hands to the other boys hips.
I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you’re in the world
Remus began to hum along to the words. Sirius’ breathing stopped when he smiled at him. The warm pressure on his shoulders and the feeling of his swaying hips under his hands pushed on his stomach and he felt his heart beating harder. He desperately hoped that the red tingling in his cheeks could be passed off as a symptom of being drunk, and not because of the flutters he felt in his chest.
I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss
Well, a few of the verses, well, they’ve got me quite cross
But the sun’s been quite kind while I wrote this song
It’s for people like you that keep it turned on
They stayed like that, moving as one, tucked away in their own little corner of the room. The chatter and light thumping of shoes around them was swept away by the sound of Remus’ gentle breaths and the sweet song.
So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do
Sirius looked up to meet his eyes.
You see, I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue
He glanced down at the taller boys lips, watching them move as he began mouthing the words.
Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean
He looked back up into his eyes as Remus was staring into his own.
Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen
Sirius’ heart jolted as Remus slowly leaned forward, eyes flicking from Sirius’ eyes to his lips. He felt a bubble of excitement and adrenaline pushing its way up his chest. Alcohol swirled in his stomach, warming his heart.
Sirius made the split second decision to close the gap.
The music swelled and flooded his body at the feeling of Remus against him. His eyes were closed but he had Remus’ face and skin pressed into his mind, each silver scar and lovely curve becoming physical as he moved his hands up his hips to his face.
And you can tell everybody this is your song
It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done
He didn’t know how long they stood there like that. The feeling of Remus’ skin and lips against his own completely enveloped him, sending light shivers through his bones.
I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you’re in the world
Remus pulled away. His cheeks were red and he had an expression on his face that Sirius couldn’t read.
I hope you don’t mind...
He stepped back from Sirius.
I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words
His mouth opened and closed in shock. Sirius felt a hot burst of anxiousness spread to his fingers. They were shaking.
How wonderful life is while you’re in the world
They stood in silence, staring at each other as the song came to a close. The world flooded back in and crashed on Sirius as reality set in.
“I- I’m sorry,” Sirius said. All he could think to do was rush back up to their dorm and shut his curtains, leaving Remus behind.
The beginning of I Need You To Turn To began playing outside of the door, muffled by the ancient wood.
What had he done?
Sirius was still standing in the bathroom with a bloody fist, the images of Moony’s horrified face stuck to his eyelids even when he closed them.
One more reason to do it, he thought.
He carefully held the blade of the knife up to his wrist and dragged it as fast as he could across.
It stung at first, and then stopped. He watched as blood filled the gash. It wasn’t deep enough. It felt sore as he moved his arm.
He held the knife up again with shaking hands. This time, he held it vertical to his forearm. He slowly dug the tip in and twisted it slowly. He shoved down and pulled as hard as the awkward orientation would let him.
He gasped loudly, increasingly grateful for the silencing charms he had put up. He knew he hit an artery. The blood almost sprayed comically, spots spreading down the front of his shirt. It pulsed out of the slice in beats. The sharp pain from the blade had stopped and it now throbbed dully and twinged when he moved it.
He knew that would probably do it, but he didn’t want to stop. He held the knife in his other hand and sliced down as hard as he could. It had a similar effect, though more shallow out of expectation.
He was already starting to feel dizzy by the time he tested out his upper forearm. He sat down. Shards of the mirror dug into his legs and feet as he moved.
Blood began pooling around him as he finally settled, the previous drops and dark red puddles showing his path from the counter to the back wall.
The red was all around him now. The contrast between the light tile and the dark of his blood was stunning. The lines on his arms were bleeding into each other and down, making the floor sticky.
There was so much of it. As the pool around him grew, he felt his consciousness flooding out with it. His breathing sped up but he found that he couldn’t will himself to care.
His head felt heavy as he dropped it against the wall behind him. His skin felt sticky and hot but cool at the same time. He had done it. He would finally be free, and free the others too. He smiled lazily and slumped even further down, almost to the floor.
If only Mother could see me now.
He thought he heard footsteps outside the door but shook it off and allowed himself to be lulled into darkness.
+
Remus quietly rolled out of bed but groaned when he saw the bathroom lights on.
He slowly walked up to the door with creaky joints and yawned. He paused just in front of it and rubbed his eyes. James was snoring obnoxiously but between grunts and snorts, Remus thought he heard someone breathing hard.
The first thing that came to mind was that one of the boys had woken up and was having a wank at one in the morning, but he quickly shook the thought away when he heard the sound of glass crunching against the floor.
He gently knocked on the door, wondering if Peter had managed to break another one of the glass decorations. No response. The floor felt cold on his feet and he sighed.
“Come on, I really need to use the loo. Hurry up,” he knocked on the door again. No response besides the stuttering breaths coming from inside. He could hear a heartbeat, but it was uneven and going too fast. He frowned and looked around at the other beds.
All of the curtains were closed, and judging by the loud snores still coming from James’ bed he must have been sleeping like a log.
He crept over to Pete’s bed and gently cracked the curtains. The lumps tucked under the covers indicated that there was only one person left. Fuck.
Remus walked back to the bathroom and tried again.
“Sirius? I know it’s you. Please, I just need to take a piss.”
“Remus?” The response was so breathy and muted that he almost missed it. His bones tingled and sparked with the basic magic that waved over the door.
“Yeah, it’s me. We don’t have to talk, just please hurry up.” Why couldn’t it have been anyone else?
First, Sirius fucks up his life in the worst way possible by telling Snape about his lycanthropy. Then, as Remus is trying to figure out why he’s struggling so much to accept that he should be incredibly pissed, they kiss. And Sirius bolts.
He was getting irritated now. “Listen, I don’t care about anything that’s happened. Just let me use the fucking toilet.”
Silence.
Remus groaned and noticed a small note pasted to the door. He peeled it off and his heart dropped.
Please don’t come in, I don’t want any of you to see this. I love you guys and I’m sorry.
For everything.
- Sirius
“Sirius?” He was beginning to panic. He banged the door.
“Sirius! Open the fucking door!” He tried the handle but it wouldn’t budge. He shook it desperately and groaned. He dropped down onto his hands and knees and tried to look under the door but had no luck. Everything he could see was too blurry to discern, but there was a shadow in the right corner of his field of view.
“Fuck,” he stood up and took a deep breath. He took a step back and readied his shoulder for impact.
He slammed into the door as hard as he could but considering his thin frame, he didn’t expect to do much damage. He held his shoulder and winced.
“Shit, Sirius! What the fuck are you doing?” He was on the edge of tears at this point, horrifying images of his friend locked in the bathroom flashing through his mind.
“This isn’t fucking funny. Please. Just open the door, we can talk about this,” he said.
“What the fuck is going on?” He heard James’ curtains open slowly and walked over to his bed. He took in James’ messy hair and bleary eyes blinking up at him curiously. He passed him the note.
James quickly woke up and shoved on his glasses after squinting at the small paper, reading it over.
“That was on the bathroom door. It’s locked and I think he put charms up. It reeks of magic.” James looked up from the note and slipped out of bed.
“Sirius? Sirius, please come out,” he stood, knocking at the door softly.
“He hasn’t been answering me.”
James grabbed his wand and proceeded to wave his wand and whisper charms before trying the door knob. Remus felt useless standing there. He watched and tried to calm his nerves, listening for anything that might be going on inside.
He felt a familiar ripple flow through his figure. The dissipation of magic popped in his bones and he jumped.
“Wait, I think you did it. Hold on,” Remus put his hand on James’ shoulder and pulled him gently to the side.
The knob turned and he took a deep breath.
Nothing prepared him for what was inside.
Sirius was slumped against the wall of the bathroom in a pool of dark red blood. He was incredibly pale and his chest stuttered gently under his stained shirt. There was a messy knife next to his left hand. Blood was still consistently spilling out of the lines on his arms but Remus couldn’t see the actual gash.
“Fuck. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck,” Remus whispered and ran over to Sirius, James in tow.
“Sirius! What the- Fuck!” James clumsily felt for a pulse on his neck and sighed in relief. “He’s still there but it’s too light. We have to get him to the hospital wing. Now.” James grabbed one arm and waited for Remus to grab the other before lifting gently.
“No,” Sirius whispered. Remus’ chest ached with grief and helplessness.
“We’ve got to get you to the hospital wing, ok? Remus, do you think you can heal the- his arms? I- I’m not sure he can make the trip,” James said. He never thought he would have had to say those words.
“I can try, hold on,” he took out his wand and gently rubbed away some of the blood from his arms to reach the cut on his left arm. Sirius winced and let out a quiet whimper, mouth open and eyes fluttering. Remus whispered any healing spells that came to mind but they barely closed the pulsing gap. The tapered edge at the end of the slit knitted together, but it didn’t help anywhere else.
“It’s not working, let’s just go,” Remus said as he grabbed a towel for each arm. James quickly took the towel and wrapped it around Sirius’ draining wrist, following Remus’ movements.
Sirius was limp. His feet rubbed along the floor and the carpet of the common room. Sometimes he was able to stand on one leg before his leg went stiff and he stumbled, leaning on one of the boys. His mouth was slightly agape and his breathing was quiet and unsteady.
Remus could feel the warm blood throbbing under the towel but after a while it seemed like it was evening out.
Sirius’ eyelids fluttered and he sighed gently as they slowly struggled up the stairs. They stepped up into a corridor when Sirius whispered something lightly.
“Wait.”
“What is it?” James asked.
“Wait- put me down,” Sirius finally managed. “Please.”
James and Remus gave each other a look but brought him over to the wall where they all gently sat down.
“What’s up?” Remus asked quietly.
“Please, just don’t- don’t take me to the wing. To Pomfrey. Just let me go.”
“What?” Remus’ chest felt like it was on fire.
“I don’t want to- I can’t keep going. I don’t want to get better. I just want it to be done. I’m done.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” James insisted. He went to go pick Sirius up again but Sirius weakly pushed him off.
“No. Leave me.”
“No, Sirius! We need to get you there. We just- We need you. We need you to get better,” Remus said. He winced at how desperate his voice sounded as it echoed back to him in the silent corridor.
Remus tried to grab his arm again and without the pressure of the towels on Sirius’ arm he was bleeding out too fast.
“We can talk about this later, but let’s just get to the hospital wing. We can come up with an excuse. We will figure this out. Together. Just please get up and let us help,” James whispered. Sirius grunted in response and his face was getting too pale, eyelids fluttering again. James nodded to Remus and they both wrapped the towels again and picked him up firmly.
“No- No please, please don’t,” Sirius whined. The other boys ignored him and they finally reached the hospital wing.
+
Sirius’ eyelids were crusted shut and swollen. He struggled to open them while he absorbed the smell of potions and herbs; the smell of the hospital wing. He finally managed to open his eyes and saw Remus in the chair next to him, bent over and asleep.
He tried sitting up but gasped at the sharp twinge that felt like hot iron through his arms. Remus’ head shot up and he looked at Sirius.
“You’re awake,” he said. His voice was a desperate mix of guilt, relief, and regret.
“Hi,” was all Sirius could think to say in response.