A/N—Sirius runs away, and stands in a phone booth beside a set of rusted train tracks talking to a dear friend.
I don't own Harry Potter or Runaway Train. They belong, respectively, to J.K. Rowling and Soul Asylum.
RUNAWAY TRAIN
The rusted tracks stretched far into the distance, lying abandoned in the dark empty area. No trains had run along them for years. None probably ever would again.
Rain began to fall, and Sirius ducked inside the nearest shelter—a small, rundown phone booth, with an old-fashioned phone hanging precariously on the wall. Sirius hesitated, staring at it, debating whether he ought to do what he so desperately wanted to. He decided to do it, and grabbed the phone, dialing a number that he had never actually called before, though he had it memorized.
Call you up in the middle of the night...
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. Six.
A quick glance at his watch declared the time to be nearly one in the morning. It was hopeless, but he let the phone keep ringing.
Like a firefly without a light...
"Hello?" A woman's voice. "May I ask who's speaking?"
"May I speak to Remus?" The words spilled out, and it was only in the silence that followed that Sirius realized that he had ignored the woman's question.
"My name's Sirius Black," he said. "Please, is Remus home?"
The phone clicked, though it still buzzed with static, and muffled voices conversed on the other ends. And then the phone was picked up again.
"Sirius?" Remus sounded so much like his mother, Sirius realized.
You were there like a blowtorch burning...
"Sirius, what's wrong?"
"I—" He tried to find the words. "I fought with them, Remus. They were so stuck up, blathering on about Tojours Pur, and fighting half-breeds, and about how Voldemort had the right idea, and, Remus, I just lost it. I couldn't take it anymore."
I was a key that could use a little turning...
"I broke. I—I yelled at them. Told them—said things I shouldn't have said. Awful things, Remus. I just couldn't stand it anymore. I broke, Remus. I lost it."
There was no answer from the other end.
"I know it's late. But I—I was—"
So tired that I couldn't even sleep...
"I—" The words wouldn't come. He couldn't find them, even though they were reverberating throughout his tormented mind, clamoring for release.
So many secrets I couldn't keep...
"Remus, I ran."
"You what?" Remus' voice was soft, so soft that Sirius could barely hear it.
"I ran. Away. I ran away."
Promised myself I wouldn't weep...
Tears began to course down his cheeks, and he choked on a sob.
"I ran away, Remus. I lost it, and I ran away. I ran away." He kept repeating it, over and over.
One more promise I couldn't keep...
On the other end, Sirius heard the phone clatter to the floor, where it buzzed into his ear.
It seems no one can help me now...
What had he done? What had he done?
I'm in too deep, there's no way out...
Outside, a set of dark figures walked into an alleyway. They didn't look friendly.
This time I have really led myself astray...
He slammed the phone back onto the receiver, a strangled sob making his throat ache, and, ripping open the door of the booth, he dashed out into the night.
Runaway Train, never going back...
Wrong way on a one way track...
Seems like I should be getting somewhere...
Somehow I'm neither here nor there...
He ended up hiding in an alley, crouched on the ground, leading against a trash bin, counting his money and fingering his wand.
"Sirius?"
Remus stood before him, dressed in a shabby coat, an even shabbier scarf draped about his neck. His eyes were red, and his face was pale.
"Sirius..." Remus lowered himself to the ground.
Sirius buried his face in his hands, and began to cry.
"Can you help me remember how to smile?" he whispered into his shaking hands. "Make it somehow all seem worthwhile..."
Remus shook his head, tears brimming in his brown eyes. He put an arm around Sirius, but Sirius pushed it away. He hopped to his feet, cursing.
How on earth did I get so jaded? Life's mysteries seem so faded...
He had run away from home. He was on his own now.
I can go where no one else can go...I know what no one else knows...
He had run away from home. He had run away. He had run away.
The rain continued to pour. It soaked them both, plastering their hair to their foreheads, masking the tears that both were shedding.
Here I am just a drownin' in the rain...with a ticket for a runaway train...
The cold alley was empty save for them and some rats that skittered around, seeking shelter in the discarded food wrappers that lay scattered around.
And everything seems cut and dried...
The dark night had never seemed so frightening...
Day and night...earth and sky...
He had run away from home. He had run away. He had run away.
Somehow I just don't believe it...
"Sirius..." Remus began, but Sirius cursed again and fled, racing down the street. He knew Remus would follow, but he just needed to run. He had to feel like he was doing something.
Runaway Train, never going back...
Wrong way on a one way track...
Seems like I should be getting somewhere...
Somehow I'm neither here nor there...
When he finally stopped, he was standing on the rusted train tracks, all alone, the rain still pouring, making everything seem impossibly dismal.
Bought a ticket for a Runaway Train...
A hysterical laugh wrenched itself free of his chest, ringing through the night, bouncing down the deserted tracks.
Like a mad man laughing at the rain...
Tears wracked his body, and he laughed and cried, letting his actions sink in...
A little out of touch, a little insane...
"Sirius?" Remus' voice floated towards him, and suddenly a hand gripped his arm. Sirius laughed harder, trying to block out his misery.
It's just easier than dealing with the pain...
"I ran away," he sobbed.
Runaway Train, never going back...
Wrong way on a one way track...
Seems like I should be getting somewhere...
Somehow I'm neither here nor there...
Runaway Train, never coming back...
Runaway Train, tearing up the track...
Runaway Train, burning in my veins...
The two boys stood alone on the empty tracks.
Sirius had run away from home, run away from everything.
I run away, but it always seems the same...