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Sirius thinks he might be dying. No, he thinks that this is a fate worse than dying. He looks into the eyes of the only person whom he has ever loved and trusted with his entire being and all he sees staring back at him is pure, unadulterated hatred.
The worst part of this all isn’t Remus hating him, it’s the fact that it is, unquestionably and unequivocally, his own fault. The only person to blame is Sirius.
If it weren’t for him, his Moony wouldn’t be beaten black and blue on every inch of skin that hadn’t already been torn apart by Moony himself - laying helpless in a hospital bed, the bitter scent of antiseptic thick in the air, numbed to the searing pain in the entirety of his body only by his new found resentment for Sirius Black.
As Sirius looked up through his tear stained eyelashes and into the amber eyes of Remus, he swallowed his futile pleas of forgiveness, feeling how they sliced open his insides on the way down.
“I cannot believe that you… that you would… how could you- and when you know- and how- and- and-“ Remus cut himself off with a hiccup, as the tears in his eyes overflowed and fell in rivulets down his scarred face.
Sirius remained silent. He knew that there was no possible way to regain Remus’ trust after this. There was no point in trying anymore. The hope in him had died the moment Remus’ secret had slipped past his lips. He thinks the rest of him may be slowly dying as well. Never mind. He doesn’t need it anyway. Not without Remus. Part of him wishes that he would. Just for a little while, anyway.
“What, are you just gonna sit there and cry?” Remus scoffed, his voice unwavering though he was still crying profusely, “You’re not even going to try and apologise? To explain what in the ever loving fuck you were thinking?”
Remus was getting louder, verging on shouting. Despite this, Sirius could tell that each and every word was calculated. Chosen and deliberated before being snarled as forcefully as he could manage.
The fact that Remus knew precisely what he was saying is what made his next statement sting. And what made the sting become an agonising burning sensation that spread throughout Sirius’ body until he no longer recognised himself.
A pain worse than any back hand or belt his parents had dealt him. A pain worse than being crucioed until he was choking on his own blood. A pain worse than seeing his own mother’s cold detached stare as she was the one to cast the curse. A pain that can only be caused by the following words coming out of the mouth of the one person you love and trust with your entire being:
”Sirius, you are just like your parents.”
All that follows is a deafening silence.
Sirius blinks. Sirius swallows. Sirius feels a fresh tear roll down his cheek. Sirius feels where his knees are bruising from how they are pushed against the concrete floor. Sirius feels the breeze from the open window pushing a few strands of hair into his face. Sirius feels…
Sirius feels nothing. Absolute and complete absence of feeling. No regret. No pain. No excitement. No frustration. Just… nothing.
And it’s peaceful, Sirius thinks. Its calm. He wishes he could stay in this middle ground, perfect nullity. Just for a little while, anyway.
But calm can never last forever and there is usually a soul destroying storm that follows.
Sirius’ nothingness is overtaken by a wave of despair. He physically can feel his soul being forced back into his body. He doesn’t resist. He wishes he had.
Sirius’ nothingness is overtaken by the feeling of his entire world being ripped apart.
Not split into two like a cracker between friends at a Christmas feast, surrounded by joyous laughter. Not snapped in half like a child sharing his chocolate on the train journey to his new school. No, this is much worse.
Sirius’ world is torn into scraps, piece by piece, agonisingly, slowly, tauntingly. It is slashed to shreds and becomes utterly distorted beyond repair.
His body completely resigns and he crashes to the floor. He thinks he might have scraped his elbow. He can’t tell. Everything burns.
He’s overheating, sweating.
He’s freezing, shivering.
He’s feeling everything and he can feel it everywhere simultaneously.
He needs to throw up, or maybe he already has.
He can feel his mother’s cold hands around his throat, or maybe he is imagining them.
No, he’s pretty sure they’re actually there.
Or maybe her hands are actually his. Maybe he is his mother. Maybe he is just like his parents.
He can feel all the muscles in his body tensing and relaxing is bursts like they can’t decide whether to send him into fight or flight.
He thinks he might just stay here. On the floor, burning. If he stands up there is sure to be a mark on the concrete where he scorched it.
He burns anything he goes near. He burnt Remus. He’s a star. It’s in his nature, an instinct. Burn or be burnt.
Remus always told him the stars were beautiful. He doesn’t believe that anymore. He always chooses to burn.
Now, Sirius thinks he knows what it’s like to be burnt. He can feel it in his blood. Coursing through each vein in his body. Contaminating every corner of his entity.
Remus thinks he is just like his parents.
Sirius trusts Remus with his entire being.
Remus must be right.
Sirius is just like his parents.
Sirius is just like his parents. Sirius is just like his parents. Sirius is just like his parents. Sirius is just like his parents Sirius is just like his parents sirius is just like his parents sirius is justlikehisparents siriusisjustlikehisparents-
Sirius is
just like
his parents.
At the end of a star’s life, they become unstable. Their outer layers blow away until all that remains is their core. This core is called a white dwarf due to it burning brighter than other parts of the star and it being a fraction of the size it used to be.
It is predicted that the Sirius star won’t reach this stage for millions of years, however Sirius, as his collapsed body regains the ability to form thoughts, believes that he has reached that stage preemptively.
He is burning more excruciatingly than he ever has before and all that is left of him is his fragile body and even weaker soul.
His loud and large presence has been crushed. He is burning so harrowingly that if he opens his eyes, he doesn't think he’ll ever see again - blinded by his own flames.
Sirius lays on the floor, unable to move.
Sirius burns others, unable to stop himself.
Sirius wishes that he could stop burning.
Just for a little while, anyway.