Losing Memories, Losing Minds
[Trigger Warning: self-harm, a little depressing] Happens after the whomping willow incident, but shortly after that, Sirius gets into an accident and loses his memory. He forgets why his friends hate him, and emotional turmoil ensue. [wolfstar]
BETA'D by the amazing in-dreams-maybe
It all happened too quickly. One moment he was picking at the grass, silently punishing himself for what he had done, and then he was rolling... rolling... rolling.
The world was spinning - it was dark grass, and then it was the dark sky. Sirius couldn't figure out which way was up. He couldn't stop, there was nothing for him to grasp onto. No stone, no rock. He grabbed a fistful of grass, but it did not provide any traction.
A sudden burst of laughter bubbled up Sirius's throat. His life now felt like a free fall, much like what he was doing now - rolling uncontrollably down a hill. There was nothing to grab onto, like there was nobody in his life to ground him, not anymore. The coincidence wasn't lost on him - his life was a fucking joke.
He wanted it to stop. He needed it to stop - he was starting to feel awful, nauseated by the repetitive spinning. He felt like he had been at it for ages. But oh, yes, it did stop, and when it did he heard a loud crack.
Was that my head? He didn't get the chance to find out, because when his body finally got the chance to comprehend his fall, pain engulfed his being. He didn't feel like anything was broken, but there was a general bone-deep ache about him. He couldn't really place what was wrong with him. And, god, his head. It like felt a great pressure was pressing against his skull, pounding.
He was cold - he hadn't bothered to put on his coat. He was hungry - he regretted not eating the whole of that day. He was tired - he couldn't move. And hell, his head hurt.
Maybe I should just die here. Yes. It seemed like the best option. He closed his eyes, succumbing to the pain that threatened to devour him.
"James, Sirius isn't here."
"Don't know, don't care, Moony. He betrayed you, stop caring about him."
"It's lesson time." Remus got that James was disappointed, and very angry with his best mate, hell, he himself never felt so angry towards anyone before.
"I know. He's probably just somewhere sulking."
He awoke in the awkward comfort of the hospital wing bed, Madam Pomfrey over his bedside.
Wait, what? What was I doing in the hospital wing?
He squinted his eyes, trying to recall the events of the previous night. But all that came up was a raging headache.
"Sirius, you're awake."
"What happened to me?" This earned a frown from Madam Pomfrey.
"You can't remember?"
"No. Nothing at all."
"Well, you hit your head pretty badly, I wouldn't be surprised if got amnesia from your concussion."
"Oh." Maybe that was the cause of his nasty headache. "Have any of my friends come to visit me yet?"
At this, Madam Pomfrey's face fell, a dead giveaway to his question.
It was only a week later that he was allowed out of the hospital wing.
Trudging up the stairs to his dorm, he had a sense of foreboding. None of his friends had come to visit him in the hospital wing - and he had a feeling that they didn't want to see him.
Opening the door, he called out tentatively. "Hello?"
All his theories about why his friends wouldn't visit him in the hospital wing couldn't prepare him for what he saw. James was glaring at him hatefully, like he didn't want Sirius in his life anymore. Remus was staring straight at him, clear disappointment etched onto his face. Peter took one look at him and turned away.
His friends' reaction was like a swift kick to his chest, blindsiding him. He didn't know what to say.
"Sorry." He finally decided, before making his way towards his four-poster bed.
But James was too quick. In a flash, he was held up against the wall.
"Sorry just doesn't cut it, Sirius. A concussion, huh? It's so bloody unfair that YOU can't remember what YOU did. You not remembering doesn't mean that you didn't do anything. So now, let me remind you that you did something unforgivable. Something that none of us wants to speak about again, so don't bother asking. We hate your guts, Black, we hate your face. We want nothing to do with you anymore."
James' hateful eyes pierced into his, a steely confirmation to his words of despise.
Sirius' breath hitched in his throat - he wanted to cry, to beg for forgiveness. He wanted to know what he did that was so unforgivable, but he was too afraid to ask - hell, he was afraid to know. The pure animosity on James' face and the look of betrayal on Remus' would go on and haunt him in his sleep.
He slipped soundlessly into his bed and closed the curtains - cast a silencing spell for good measure.
It was terrible, not knowing why his friends all hated him. But he had to accept the fact that they didn't want to do anything with him anymore.
His chest ached from the knowledge that in just one night, he had lost everything. He beat his chest - pounded on it - anything to take away the pain. He was crying now, not the silent, grieving cry, but the loud, uncontrollable one where he couldn't stop himself, where the tears kept falling and his voice kept tripping over itself.
Slowly, his sadness transformed into anger. Anger at himself for his uselessness - why did he forget what happened? Why did he do what he did? Anger at himself for being the one who put that pained look on Remus' face. Anger that he did something to make his friends hate him like this.
His anger turned into exasperation, turned into desperation. He couldn't control his emotions - he scratched at his skin, rubbing away the evil from himself. It didn't help one bit.
Finally, later that night when he'd calmed down, he rolled up his sleeves and picked up his wand. There, on his upper arm, he could see the mass of white lines, the haphazard ones from his father's belt, the neat, white ridges done by his own hand.
He'd stop his self-harm behaviour after coming to Hogwarts, because, well, there was no reason for it anymore. Because for a while here, he was happy. Happy he was away from his abusive parents, happy that he had friends.
Now, everything changed, and he didn't even know why.
Without even thinking, he pressed his wand against his pale, white skin, drawing a dark crimson line from his elbow to his shoulder. His fist clenched in pain, yet his raging and grieving heart slowed down, numbing his emotions with his new calm.
There was a split second where the skin resisted against the cutting spell, then it gave way, conceding little blood droplets to escape from his body. First, a little. Then, a torrent. Blood spilled both ways out of the wound, slipping down both sides of his arm, falling onto his sheets.
His arm, his sheets, his heart - a bloodied mess. Just like my life.
He went through the days mechanically. He did what he had to do. He did what he had to do to avoid his former best mates. That meant waking up early and going back late. Mostly, he spent his time in the library.
Things with his friends were not improving. But, in a way, it was not worsening, either. Sirius still had no idea what he did that was so terrible, but he figured that he didn't want to know, because then he might not be able forgive himself. He'd gone out of the way to avoid interaction with his former friends, but it was difficult, staying in the same dorm and having the same classes.
Time had not been kind - it still hurt as hell every time he saw his friends having fun together, laughing. The only solace he found himself was at night, when he performed his own little cutting ritual. That was the only time he felt he allowed himself to feel.
The holidays were approaching, Sirius had to decide if he was going to stay in Hogwarts, or go back home. Previous years, it wasn't much a choice. Who would choose going back to an abusive home over staying with friends? Yet this year, the choice was not as obvious. Either go back home and face the wrath of his father, or stay and go through the emotional torture of seeing his former friends every day.
He chose to go home. Wouldn't matter to anyone, anyway.
It was the start of the holidays, and Remus, obviously, opted to stay in Hogwarts with his friends. Since he didn't have to start the day early, he laid in bed, relishing this time to himself. Alone time for himself was almost impossible, especially now, what with James suddenly becoming closer to him because of the incident.
The incident. Sirius.
This was one of the many times Remus thought about him. He missed Sirius. He missed him so much. He missed his laughter, his jokes, their late night conversations. The secrets they shared, the promises they made, now gone. All gone. And I was so close to coming out to him.
Do I hate him? No. Am I angry at him? Yes. But do I forgive him? Absolutely.
It pained Remus to see Sirius so far gone - a shell of his former self, a ghost of what he'd knew him to be. It wasn't supposed to be like that. He wanted to tell him that he loved him. He wanted to tell him that he didn't care about what happened. He wanted to tell him to smile. Remus took a deep breath, how could he be the one to demand Sirius to be happy when he was clearly the one making him so upset?
What was stopping him from talking to Sirius? Why hasn't he approached him yet? Remus had asked himself these questions over and over again. Yet the answer was obvious. He didn't know how. It was so long ago that they were still able to talk and laugh together, but now Remus found himself not knowing how to talk the dark, brooding boy.
He wanted hug him, to tell him that everything was okay. He wanted to bring the sparkle back into his eyes.
He didn't know how long he sat there thinking, but when he emerged from his bed for the bathroom, he immediately felt something was amiss. For one, Sirius' curtains were drawn, and his bed was conspicuously neat.
It didn't take Remus long to figure out where Sirius had gone to. His fists clenched and unclenched, he ran his fingers through his hair, panic coursing through his body like hot firewhiskey that bubbled in his stomach, burning its way up his throat.
"James," Remus shook James vigorously, trying to wake him up. "JAMES!"
"Moony... Sleep, no school." This was met with even more intense shaking.
"Fuck James, fuck, Sirius went home!" At this, James immediately sat up.
"Fuck, he did?"
Remus slid down onto the floor, realising that there was no more he could do. "It's our fault, you know. Who knows what his parents would do to him?" James didn't know how to reply, because what they knew his parents would do didn't bring the least bit of comfort.
They spent the holidays worrying over Sirius, waiting for him to come back so they could see that he was alright.
Their wait ended, when a week later, they were informed that Sirius was in the hospital wing.
He wasn't alright.
His pale white skin was almost covered in large patches of purple and blue bruises, his ribs heavily bandages. He was stick thin, his body tense, as though guarding against something. Remus learned from Madam Pomfrey that he didn't have anything to eat while he was at home. Apart from a couple of broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and the bruises, he was fine.
But he wasn't, was he?
Sirius found himself awaking again to the familiar smells of the hospital wing - only this time he knew what exactly what had happened. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, his ribs hurt, his shoulder hurt. There was still a bone-deep ache from when his mother used the Cruciatus curse.
This time, he didn't ask if his friends had come.
When it was time for him to leave the hospital wing, he found himself thinking back to the previous time, when everything fell apart. Well, at least now he knew what to expect.
He didn't bother to knock, didn't bother to call out. He quietly pushed the door open and slipped in. He knew he still didn't look in the pink of health - the bruises and such needed time to heal.
"Sirius."
His head jerked up. What he expected was not this. He continued looking into James' face. It had been so long since he held a proper conversation with a decent human being, he'd forgotten how to.
"Why did you go home?" He shrugged, making his way back to his bed, into the comfort of solidarity. He'd been alone so long; he didn't know how to be with people.
"Did you want to die?" The question made Sirius turn back and stare into James' eyes.
"Maybe." His voice was raspy from disuse.
"Sirius." This voice was Remus, he knew. His Remus was speaking to him. He turned to Remus, taking in his expression. For once, it was not one of disappointment - it was of sadness and regret. It made Sirius tear up. It pained him to see Remus like that.
"Sirius, we forgive you, please, don't ever do that again." Remus was walking towards him know, him arms outstretched.
"Don't."
"What?" came James' confusion.
"Don't. Don't forgive me, I can't bear that. Can't." His answers were reflexive, he didn't think. He couldn't. He stared at the floor, James and Remus stared at him.
He wanted to go running back into his friend's arms, pretend none of the past few weeks ever happened. But he couldn't. He was sure he couldn't take it if one day he woke up again and find he didn't have anymore friends again. He was also sure he couldn't take one more day in this state - pretending he didn't have friends to start with.
He was torn. God, why am I so fucked up? He couldn't choose, he wanted to run, he wanted to escape. Why didn't he die under the hands of his father? It would have made a much better headline than "Sirius Black Committed Suicide".
Why? He didn't know why. What? He didn't know what. How? He didn't know how. All he knew was that he did everything to try to keep himself alive for the past few months and now... now it was all unravelling. His carefully knitted web of self-comfort, self-solace, self-sustenance, now had a loose end. One careless tug, or too careful protection, might cause all his hard work to disappear. Just like that.
I don't need them. Just like they don't need me.
Was it true, though?
That hate me, and I deserve it all. They were too good for me, anyway.
Did he really believe that?
They said I hurt Remus. I hurt my Remus. My Remus.
He knew that part was true, and he hated himself for that, punished himself one too many times.
"Sirius." Subconsciously, he'd moved back against a wall, sitting, his knees drawn up to his chest, arms over his head. He was protecting himself, but from what? From his friends? From himself?
Remus reached out to grasp Sirius' forearms, only to have him flinch away. "Sirius, please. I'm sorry we took so long to come around, but we're not mad anymore."
Sirius shook his head, vigorously, continuously, the sideway oscillations sure to make his head hurt, like he didn't want to believe what he was hearing. He didn't know why, but he was crying. Fast, fervent tears leaked out of his eyes, ran down his cheeks. "Please, please, please," he heard himself murmuring. What he was begging for, he wasn't sure.
Remus looked down at Sirius. For once, in all his years at Hogwarts, he didn't know how to react. He didn't know how to comfort his friend. There was guilt swirling in his middle, threatening to overpower him. It made him sick - how could he have failed to notice and actually do something about it? They didn't mean to isolate Sirius for such a long period of time, yet one thing led to another, and when they wanted things to go back to normal, they couldn't anymore, because things just weren't the same.
This was the first time he saw Sirius so sad, heck, the first time he saw any human being so emotionally fragile. He didn't know what to do, so obeying his instincts, he just lunged forward and gave him a tight hug. Sirius allowed it, only because all his energy was focused on his mental breakdown.
Slowly, but surely, he could feel Sirius' sobs weaken as he lay in his arms. It seemed like ages, but the two didn't move. Remus was afraid that if he let go, Sirius would disintegrate, literally and emotionally.
In Remus' arms was where Sirius felt the safest, the most comforted.
"I'm so sorry, Remus." Sirius mumbled into his shoulder, snot and tears muffling his words.
"No. I'm sorry, Sirius."
A/N: yes, yes, I am well aware that this is my third rendition of the aftermath of the whomping willow incident, but I can't seem to get enough. Besides, I do them differently each time. I might do a follow up on this one, depending on the response I get from this one... I actually intended for more things to happen, it felt right to end it this way. I may follow up, depends.
Please leave a review, make my day! Tell me what you want to see from this story!