Word Count: 365
It has happened. Peter knows he should move on, keep going, because he knows that Sirius will eventually put the pieces together. He's frozen in place, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hands, but he doesn't even want to drink. His mind is already in a haze, and he doesn't know how to go on.
He sets the bottle aside, pacing anxiously, the guilt gnawing at his insides. Lily and James are dead, and it is his fault. He had known it would come to this, and now he feels himself slipping away with every step he takes.
This isn't him. He isn't some bloodthirsty monster. It's all about survival, and he has to believe that he has done the right thing. Maybe it isn't right for others, but it will keep him alive, and that has to count for something.
He pauses in his pacing, doubling over and throwing up. "Stop it," he tells himself as he wipes his mouth. "Stop it!"
There's nothing he can do. He has chosen his path, and he will do what he has to in order to stay alive.
So why does he feel like he might collapse? Why does regret twist his insides mercilessly?
"Keep going," he tells himself.
How long before Sirius finds him? He needs a plan of action. He needs to think.
But he can't. Tears sting his eyes, and he wipes them away furiously. Lily and James are dead. He is a monster. He doesn't deserveā¦
He shakes his head, like it's enough to shake away the demons in his head. It doesn't matter. He is alive.
But, oh, he is slipping away. He can feel it. As soon as he thinks that maybe he can get through this, it starts again. If he keeps going, there will be nothing left of who he was.
Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's time to be stronger, to stop being the spineless one, the one who no one ever cared for or took seriously. It is time to act, to strip away the weakness and become something more.
He takes a deep breath and nods to himself. He knows what he has to do.
