Sirius woke to a splitting headache, his mouth bone dry. "Ughhh," he groaned, choking back a wave of nausea as he forced himself to sit up, instinctively reaching for the glass of water beside him. He chugged down the water, sighing in relief as the cool liquid soothed his aching throat.

"How you feeling, mate?" James asked, observing him from Sirius' desk.

"What're you doing in here?" Sirius asked, rubbing his temples.

"You were in pretty bad shape last night," James replied, shrugging. "Didn't want to leave you alone... Good thing I didn't, too. You needed help getting up to puke a few times last night."

Sirius nodded. "Aspirin?"

"I'll grab it," James offered, rising to his feet and hurrying off to the adjoined bathroom.

"Here you go," he smiled, offering Sirius a dixie cup with several pills.

"Why are there so many?" Sirius groaned.

"Morning meds."

"Oh."

Obediently, he took the cup of pills, taking them all at once and chasing them down with a few sips of water.

"So about last night," James started, taking a seat on the edge of Sirius' bed.

"What?" Sirius asked, rolling his eyes.

"You were... Feeling pretty low. How are you feeling now?"

Sirius shrugged, glancing down at his lap. "I hate feeling like a child. I want to just take the meds myself. I don't need to be handed them by someone... It makes me feel like I'm crazy. Like I can't be trusted."

James nodded, offering Sirius a sympathetic look. "Makes sense... Well, let's talk to Mum about it. I'm sure she'd be okay with you being responsible for taking your medication if that's what you want."

Sirius nodded. "Okay. Good."


"Sirius, are you ready to go?" Remus asked, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. He'd arrived at the Potter's nearly an hour ago, and Sirius was still in the bathroom, getting dressed. "We're going to miss the first set if we don't leave now."

At last, the bathroom door swung open. "Okay, I'm ready," Sirius sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair from out of his face. "You're wearing that?" he asked critically, eyeing Remus up and down.

"Yeah," Remus replied, rolling his eyes. "It's a concert, Padfoot. Not a fashion show."

"I know that," Sirius retorted, "but still. It's a punk show."

"We've had this discussion before, Padfoot. I don't need to dress up to prove I'm punk rock. I'm more punk rock than you," Remus said calmly, offering Sirius a bemused look.

"But honestly, Remus. A sweater? Really?" Sirius insisted, dramatically placing both hands on his hips.

"You look very cute, though. Very punk rock, Sirius," Remus chuckled, reaching out and smoothing down Sirius' hair.

Remus smiled, admiring Sirius' appearance. He did enjoy when Sirius got dressed up in what he referred to as his punk rock look. There was something about Sirius in skintight jeans and ripped up tee shirts that exposed just the right amount of skin that worked Remus up into a frenzy. If things go well tonight, I'll be looking forward to seeing those skinny jeans balled up on my bedroom floor.

"Thank you, Moony," Sirius beamed.

"Shall we be going, then?" Remus asked, glancing down at his watch.

"Are you sure you don't want to change?" Sirius asked.

"Sirius. You like my sweaters. If I recall correctly, just the other day, I came home from class to find you curled up on my couch, drinking tea in one of my sweaters," Remus retorted, rolling his eyes. "I don't need to get dressed up to go to a show."

"Fineee," Sirius sighed. "Let's go, then."

The pair made their way towards Sirius' car, their feet crunching on fallen leaves as they walked along the pavement. "I love autumn," Sirius mused, as they got in the car.

"Of course you do," Remus noted, taking care to put on his seat belt. "It's your birthday month. Of course you love autumn."

He glanced carefully at Sirius a moment, his lips opening a bit before quickly closing again.

"What?" Sirius asked, shooting him a quizzical look.

"Are you sure you want to drive?" Remus asked.

"Why?" Sirius muttered, through gritted teeth.

"Just... If you think you're going to drink, maybe we should take the tube instead?" Remus suggested.

Sirius sighed heavily, his jaw tensing as he swallowed. "Fine. I won't drink, okay?"


Sirius watched on, bemused, as he caught sight of Remus in the pit, dancing. Suppose he was right. He is more punk than I am. Sirius had long since abandoned the pit, getting his lip split open by a stray fist during the first band's set. He glanced longingly at the bar, where three strangers sat sipping on cheap lager. True to his word, he hadn't had so much as a sip of alcohol that evening. Though at this point... He shook his head, banishing the thoughts from his mind. You're at a fun punk show. You got to see one of your favorite bands. Remus is with you, and is sharing something you love. You have nothing to be miserable about.

"Hey you," Remus whispered in his ear, wrapping his sweat-drenched arms around his form.

"Having fun out there?" Sirius asked, feeling his chest loosen up as he breathed in Remus' familiar scent.

"Mhmm... I told you I wouldn't be out of place, sweater be damned," he replied, grazing his lips against Sirius'.

"What's wrong?" he asked, immediately registering the uneasy look on Sirius' face.

"Nothing..." Sirius mumbled, glancing towards the bar, once more.

Remus bit his lip, understanding. "Hey, your lip looks like it could use some ice... DOA already played... Why don't we get home? It's already pretty late," he offered, nodding towards the door marked Exit.

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked, struggling to hide the eagerness in his voice.

"Yeah. Let's go home."

Sirius sighed contently, nuzzling Remus' shoulder. "Sorry I wanted to leave so early," he apologized, tossing his right arm around Remus' waist.

"It's okay. I'm having a much better time, now," Remus replied, craning his neck to shoot Sirius a knowing look. "Besides," he added, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a smirk, "cuddling is very punk rock, Sirius."


Sirius frowned at his reflection in the mirror. "I'm fine," he said aloud, rattling the bottle of pills in his right hand. "I don't need medication. I don't need it."

He paused, stared down at the pill bottle, then unscrewed the cap. Shoulders rigid, he tapped his prescribed dose into his left palm. Resigned, he tossed his head back, dry swallowing the pills.

He quickly dressed, rushing out the door. Late for my appointment. Christ, the only thing I do on any given day and I can't even get there on time. Miserably, he started his car, pressing hard down on the accelerator as he navigated his way through the city towards Dr. Fairgood's office.

"How are you today, Sirius?" Dr. Fairgood asked, glancing down at his chart.

"Good."

"How have you been with your medication? It's mid-October, so enough time has passed to be sure it's working. Do you think it's helping?"

"Yeah," Sirius lied coolly, drawing blood as he bit down on the inside of his cheek.

"Have you thought about attending the support group I told you about last week?"

Sirius stared ahead, ignoring Dr. Fairgood's words. The week prior, she had suggested that he would benefit from interacting with others suffering from his condition. She'd also hinted that she felt he was isolating himself from others, which wasn't beneficial to his treatment.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm... Yeah, I thought about it. Maybe I'll go," he mumbled, eyes still focused on the window behind Dr. Fairgood. Fat chance. Group therapy is bollocks.

"Have you been taking your medication regularly?" Dr. Fairgood asked, a hint of doubt in her tone.

"Yup," Sirius lied. While he'd taken his medication diligently at first, he'd quickly slipped into taking them erratically, if at all.

As he left therapy, he quickly texted Remus, checking to see if he was available. As he got in the car, he felt his phone vibrate. I have a major paper due :( maybe later this week?Sirius frowned, throwing his phone into the backseat. "Figures," he muttered, putting the car into reverse.

Instinctively, he made his way to the closest liquor store, rushing in to buy a pint of whiskey. He glanced at his wrist for the time. 2 in the afternoon. No reason to not get drunk.


"Hey, what's wrong?" Lily asked, observing Sirius from the entryway to the living room.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Lily repeated, taking a seat beside Sirius' lying form on the floor.

"You know you can talk to me if you've got something on your mind."

Sirius shrugged, stretching his arms over his head. "The meds aren't helping," he muttered, gray eyes focused on the ceiling.

"Did you talk to your doctor?" Lily pressed.

He shook his head no. "I can't."

"Why can't you?"

"She'll want to increase the dosage of lithium," Sirius retorted, struggling to reach for the nearly empty bottle of whiskey at his side.

"Did you tell her how much you've been drinking?" Lily asked.

Sirius sat up, shooting Lily a withering look. "I don't drink that much, Lils."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Bollocks. I've seen the recycling bin, Sirius. And you passed out in the living room at 2 in the afternoon."

"So? It's not like I have anything better to do," he muttered.

"Did you ever think that maybe your drinking is counteracting any good effects the medication might have and exacerbate the side effects?" Lily queried, her arms folded against her chest.

Sirius remained silent.

"The Prozac is making your depression worse, I guess?" she asked.

Sirius nodded. "When I'm drinking, at least it shuts off the nagging thoughts in my head."

"Thoughts like what?"

"That I'm not enough. Not good enough. For anyone. For him," Sirius mumbled, messily running his fingers through his hair.

"Who?" Lily asked. "Remus?"

"He doesn't even want to spend time with me, anymore."

"He's busy with school, Sirius. And he works. You know that he'd spend every free moment with you, if he could."

"I just can't shake this feeling that one day he'll wake up and see the real me, and leave," Sirius insisted, clicking his tongue to punctuate his statement.

"Have you talked to your doctor about these thoughts you're having?"

"No. I don't want to be on an antidepressant. It's not helping me."

"Sirius, you need to talk to your doctor about-"

"I stopped taking it," Sirius interrupted, shrugging his shoulders.

"What, when?" Lily asked, panicked.

"I dunno. Two, three days ago? I dumped my script down the sink."

"Sirius, you can't just stop taking a medication like that!"

"Why?"

"You know why," she hissed. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

Sirius remained quiet for a moment, thinking. "Maybe."


Sirius paced outside of Dr. Fairgood's office, taking a drag off his cigarette. In an attempt to not be late, he'd arrived way early. "Fuck," he muttered, glancing down at his wrist. Still another forty minutes.

"Sirius," a familiar voice called out.

Sirius turned his head, catching sight of his cousin, Bellatrix, exiting the psychiatrist's office. "Bella," he offered, giving the dark haired beauty a nod in recognition.

He watched as she pulled her unruly raven-colored curls up into a sort of updo, securing it with a hair tie. "It's been a while," she noted, her china-white skin a harsh contrast to her all-black ensemble.

"Indeed," Sirius retorted, not objecting as Bella removed his cigarette from between his lips, taking a drag of it, herself.

"Just got out of the bin not too long ago," Bella offered, her lips contorted into an attempt at a smile.

Sirius nodded, knowing all too well the difficulties of forcing oneself to smile at such an unpleasant confession. "Do you see Fairgood, as well?" he asked, lighting another cigarette.

"No. I see Walker. He specializes in Bipolar II, rapid cycling. What're you in for?" Bellatrix asked, producing a pack of cigarettes from her own handbag.

"Borderline Personality Disorder."

"Here's to the Black family madness, eh?" she laughed, her cherry-red lips parting to expose perfectly even, white teeth.

"The family curse," Sirius agreed wryly, shaking his head.

"What meds are you on?"

"Lithium. Prozac."

"I'm on Depakote and Klonopin," Bellatrix noted, rattling the pills in her bag with a good shake.

"What are you doing, just standing around, anyway?" she asked, eyes narrowed.

"Waiting for my stupid appointment," Sirius muttered.

"Well.. I just scored before I came to my appointment if you still have a taste for blow," she noted, shooting Sirius a familiar smirk.

"Is it good?" he asked, unable to contain his eagerness.

"Come now, Siri. It's the best."

Without a moment's hesitation, Sirius followed Bellatrix to her car, barely able to contain his excitement. "Here?" he asked.

"Are you trying to get arrested?" she scoffed. "I have a flat ten minutes up the road. Follow me there."

Sirius nodded. "Alright."


Sirius watched as Bellatrix carefully chopped up the coke, her nimble fingers arranging even lines straight across the mirrored tray on the coffee table. Elegantly, she bent over the tray, sterling silver snuff tube scraping across the surface as she inhaled a line of the off-white powder. She inhaled deeply, pressing her fingers against her nostrils, as a look of bliss appeared on her features. "Here," she mumbled, offering Sirius the snuff tube.

He felt his palms sweat as he prepared to do a line. He hadn't done coke since he'd started taking his medication. Do I really want to do this? He paused, hands shaking as his mind raced. He thought of Remus, his sweet face encouraging him to work on taking better care of himself, to be good and take his medication. He frowned. It's not like it's helping, anyway. Shaking his head, he brought the tube to his nose, quickly breathing in a line. He gasped, overwhelmed by the sensation of the drug hitting his system. Everything is perfect.

"Good, right?" Bella laughed, holding her palm out for the snuff tube.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, barely registering the taste of battery acid dripping down the back of his throat. "You were right... it's great.. who'd you get this off of?"

"A better dealer than you'll find in Camden, Sirius. Honestly. Considering who we are, who your father is, you'd think you'd have gotten yourself a proper Chelsea-based dealer, by now," Bellatrix retorted, rolling her eyes.

"So how is whatshisname... That bloke you were dating, what's his name again?" Sirius asked, blowing another line.

"Rodolphus," Bellatrix quipped, a grin plastered to her face. "He's good. We're good. Great, actually. Engaged and everything," she noted, thrusting her left hand into Sirius' face.

"His grandmother's diamond," she gushed, tilting her hand so that the diamond sparkled in the light. "Four carats. Mum said I did well."

Sirius nodded, taking in Bellatrix's forced smile. As she continued to babble on about how her wedding planning was going, it dawned on him that her smile didn't match her voice. I don't know who she's trying to convince, me or her.

"I heard about your car accident," she said lowly, her body suddenly still.

Sirius breathed in deeply, unnerved by her sudden stillness. From the moment they'd entered the flat, Bella had been one fluid motion, barely able to sit still for even a second, except to neatly inhale another line of cocaine.

"You just.. You wanted everything to stop, even for just a second, didn't you?" she asked, her hollow gray eyes staring hard into his own.

"Yeah," he choked, fingernails digging into his thighs as her words hit him like a brick to the face. "Yes, exactly. I just... I wanted it all to stop."

He blinked a few times, only acutely aware that teardrops were now trickling down Bellatrix's cheeks. "Yeah... I... I know how that is," she muttered, arms crossed against her chest.

"It's getting better though, isn't it? The medicine, Rod, anything... It must help, some," Sirius muttered, unaware of how desperately he hoped he would affirm this for him.

He felt his fingers shake, dropping the snuff tube as Bellatrix laughed hollowly. "No," she said dryly, reaching forward to pick up the tube. "You don't get better. You just get better at hiding it," she concluded, elegantly leaning over the tray, rapidly inhaling two lines in a row.