Author's note: This has been brewing in the back of my head for a long while now, and a totally unrelated prompt from the October Transformers Flash Challenge finally gave me the kick I needed to get it out of my system. So thanks to grayseeker and silberstreif for hosting that challenge!

World on Fire

The world was on fire and no-one could save me but you.

"Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak

xxx

It took James a while to wake up enough to realize that the knocking on his window was real and not part of a dream. Groaning, he struggled out of bed, thrust his glasses upon his nose and opened the shutters.

Crouching amidst the elder bushes, wand flickering with an unsteady Lumos, sat Sirius Black. James leaned forward, squinting just to be sure. "Pads?"

Sirius pushed himself to his feet with a rustle of elder leaves. "Hey," he said. "Mind if I crash here?"

"Er… no, sure. What's wrong? Trouble with your folks again?"

Sirius looked unnaturally pale in the dim light as he gazed up at him. "Please," he said, voice raspy. "I don't know where to go."

A hollow, uneasy feeling began to settle in James' stomach. What the hell..?

"Okay," he said. "No problem, c'mon."

He grabbed the backpack Sirius handed him and tossed it onto the bed, then he helped his friend climb over the window sill. Once Sirius was safely inside, James switched on the light.

"Alright," he said. "So what's up at - bloody hell, mate!"

Sirius was white as a sheet, his hair and clothes in shambles. A dark, purple bruise was blooming on his cheek, and his hands and naked arms were covered in scratches and something that looked like sooty cigarette burns. James had dueled with enough Slytherins by now to know that this was what the residuals of vicious hexes looked like.

"Fuck," he breathed, "Sirius… what happened?"

Sirius wrapped his arms around himself, his eyes and face strangely blank as he spoke. "She wouldn't stop, James," he whispered roughly. "I begged her to stop, but she wouldn't listen. Reg was crying…" His breathing, already harsh in the silent room, turned ragged. "I had to get out… didn't know where to go…" He swayed, catching himself on the bookshelf.

James stared at him, horrified. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to whip out his wand and hex someone, anyone, make them hurt as bad as Sirius was hurting. He wanted to curl up in a corner and hide from the world.

"Hey," he said finally, forcing the words around the lump in his throat. "Pads, it's okay. You're with me now."

He dared to take hold of his friend's arm, gently so as to not put pressure on the injuries. Sirius was shaking all over, but the touch seemed to ground him a bit. He raised his head and for the first time actually looked at James, his eyes even darker than usual. James swallowed.

"You stay as long as you want," he added. "That's alright."

Sirius let out a long, slow breath. Carefully, and because he didn't know what else to do, James put an arm around his shoulders and felt his friend sag against him as he did so. He smelled of sweat and burned skin, and James fought hard to blink away the stinging sensation in his eyes.

"It's okay, Pads," he mumbled, patting Sirius' shoulder awkwardly. "It's okay."

Maybe if he just kept repeating it long enough, it would be true.

*Fin*

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter verse belongs to Mrs Rowling. I do not make any money with it.