AN: I was reading angsty fics with Sirius and then I wrote this, still crying over those I've just read. Hope you feel the angst in this one. This is short. As you'll notice. But there will be more!
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own copy of the books and my own edition of the movies. All bought with money in the store.
He was hurting, hurting so much. His heart, his very core was hurting, constricting and expanding with a thump each time that echoed in his ears. Exploding in his head.
His ribs were puncturing his lungs every time he breathed to alleviate the pain inside, or was it the burning need for air he was trying to relieve? Was it really the bones that had punctured his lungs or was it the words, screams, that had blasted holes in them?
The air, the chilly air, that was warmer than the voices yet colder then the loneliness he had had then. He wasn't condemned to be alone then; he was now. Pain racked up as fire along the muscles in his legs, the fall and the hit made him suffer now, or was it simply the pain from fatigue he felt?
He took a running leap and something tore at his throat, hurting it and making it even more raw than before. A scream. A scream and a running leap to twist into nothing and disapparate.
AN: Please give me a review? You can just send me a smile if you're feeling lazy!