Hello hello!
I was going to mention this in the last chapter, but it simply slipped my mind. I messed around with canon a wee bit because I wanted Dorea to be the eldest sibling, which then offset a lot of things. I have a post on my tumblr explaining all the changes if anyone is interested in looking at it. The link is here: http*:*/*/*indiebluecrown*.*tumblr*.*com*/*post*/*162137949332*/*black*-*family*-*changes*-*for*-*a*-*dalliance*-*in*-*time (you'll just have to take out the astericks because FFN doesn't like external links, and it should take you there).
Thank you all for your patience with me, I've known what I want to write, but I simply just couldn't find the words for the past month or so. It's been extremely aggravating.
THANK you for all of your reviews, one review that I got this morning almost made me cry, and that's why this chapter is dedicated to lizziecats. YOU ARE AMAZING!
Please leave a review and let me know what you think ;)
My tumblr: indiebluecrown. tumblr. com
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
As always, for Sable and Lais xxx
Thursday, May 3rd, 1979
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
London
The infernal clock keeps tick, tick, ticking away, and time mercilessly marches on, never deterring from its duty.
There are so many if onlys that are floating around in the air, so many what could have beens swelling to the size of melons before they shove their way down his throat.
The antiseptic smell that clings to the building clogs his nostrils, and he'd like to say that is why his eyes are 'watering', but it's not as simple as that.
He's on the verge of tears, but they refuse to fall. He isn't quite sure how to feel about all of this. He wishes that they could have had more time, just a little more, but alas, this is all they are allowed.
Orion had swallowed his pride and sought refuge with Narcissa and Lucius, the only Black's (aside from Andromeda) that could be trusted enough to allow regular visits from his children.
Sirius and Regulus paid him as many visits as they could—Regulus going every day and Sirius visiting whenever he wasn't occupied with Order missions and the suchlike.
Sirius scratches his cheek absently, his eyes listlessly staring down at his Father—who is tucked in tightly under the covers of his starch white sheets, which are pulled up as far up his chest as they can be with his arms out.
His skin is an ashen grey colour, and Sirius can still picture the crimson that had stained his lips not even an hour prior when he'd violently coughed up blood.
His veins weave across his skin in intricate detail, boldly standing at attention with their blues and purples, just below the surface of his paper thin looking skin.
"Dad," Regulus whispers, his voice scratchy and rough with emotion, one of Orion's hands is clasped tightly in between Regulus's. Sirius can't properly see his brother's face from this angle, but he can picture the unshed tears that must be glistening in his grey orbs.
"It's…time, son," Orion chokes out, a fit of coughing spurting out of him.
Regulus is sitting on a short, round, dark brown stool right beside his Father's bed, on the side closest to the charmed window—the 'sunlight' softly illuminating the side of his face. The harsh shadows draped over Sirius's brother seem to emphasise his sorrow.
Sirius himself is just a bit away, leaning against the wall right next to the window, hands shoved in his pockets, hair in his eyes, but unable to tear his gaze away from his frail Father.
The image of him now is such a stark contrast to the man he idolized when he was little, that it just doesn't seem real. His eyes start to burn, but he refuses to blink, trying to take in everything. Not wanting to miss even a millisecond.
"Sirius…Regulus...my beautiful boys. Look after each other. Please. Do that for me," Orion rasps, his breathing shallow and wet sounding.
Sirius pushes off the wall and walks over to the other side of the bed, just close enough to touch his Father but he doesn't reach out. Not yet.
One, two, three shallow breaths pass through Orion's mouth as his chest barely rises and falls. His eyes flutter closed, and he makes a weak attempt to clear his throat before he reopens his eyes. Bloodshot eyes flick back and forth between his children, as if drinking in every detail of their faces.
The ticking of the clock is more evident now, painfully so. Time is fleeting, they have so little of it left, so little. Tick, tock, tick.
It all slows, the light shines on his Father's eyelashes as he slowly blinks, struggling to keep his eyes open. Despite how much pain he must be in, he looks almost at ease, he looks happy.
Sirius's limbs are like lead, he's so numb, so numb, but he swallows hard and wills his hand to move. He watches as his hand inches forward and grasps onto his Father's.
One hard blink and reality smashes its' way back into the room. Sirius gulps two mouthfuls of air up greedily, finally able to breathe normally. He can taste the tang of pain and sorrow on his tongue, his head pounds as he fights to hold back his tears. Until, he can't anymore.
He crumbles.
He crumbles, falls onto his knees and then holds onto his Father with everything he has. Shaking shoulders, his wet sobs fill the room, and he can't seem to get enough air in his lungs. The salty tears are falling freely now, blurring his vision until it is all just a mess of monochromatic colour.
Why did it have to end like this? Why? Why does everyone I love keep dying? Sirius weeps internally.
Sirius hears the soft words through the sea of pain he is drowning in, "I love you both. Sirius...I am so proud of you, son. Regulus...Regulus, my boy, live the life you want. Be happy. Be...happy…"
Sirius hiccups, sniffs hard, wipes away his tears with the back of his free hand and looks up at his Father. An almost peaceful smile is spread across his face, eyes closed, the pallor of his skin almost the same as the sheets.
He's gone. Gone. Gone. GONE.
Sirius can't breathe again, but a shuddering exhale draws his attention. His chest is constricting in on itself, getting tighter and tighter. Sirius's eyes meet those of his brother—who is silently weeping opposite him.
Tick, tock, tick. Time remains true to its steady march. Never relenting, never stopping.
Sirius jerkily nods at his brother, and an understanding passes between the two priorly estranged brothers in the wee hours of the morning.
The shift between them is silent but powerful, toppling over their carefully constructed walls.
It is a moment that they alone share, one permanently etched into their memory.
He's gone, Sirius thinks, sniffing hard.
"He's gone," Regulus hiccups.
"He's gone," Sirius repeats, wiping away the unrelenting tears.
He's gone.
