Please note, that I do not own the character of Sirius Black, or any other magical lingo.  The title comes from the Coldplay song of the same name.

This is a Sirius/OC (Reina) story.

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Clocks
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Chapter One:  Rain

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            His eyes burned.  The cold air was stinging his sweaty body.  He collapsed on the ground, just outside her home, unsure if she was still living here.  He'd used all of this strength to reach this point, drawn here by impulse and instinct.

            He panted hard, half expecting his lungs to surrender to pain.

            Swallowing hard, he pulled his head up.  Looking up, blinking lazily, he could see the windows – the many windows - glistening like starlight.

            Checking to be sure he was alone, he pulled himself dizzily to his feet.  After steadying himself, he snuffed a cold breath, and crawled beneath the enormous iron gates, a big black shadow.

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            Rain?  It was like rain.  The name fell from his lips like drops of water.  It flooded through him like a spring storm.  And it was pelting at his mind constantly.  Yet he could not remember.  Her name.

He leaned wearily against the back door, fully transformed as a human being, wishing he could remember her name.

Rain…

Idly he wondered what time it was.  Looking up at the house, the windows were still alit, but it was blindingly dark outside.

He slid down, until he was seated as a heap at the foot of the door.  He curled into a ball, forgetting he wasn't a dog, sniffing loudly.  Whenever he closed his eyes, a picture burned in his mind, filling him with rage, and invigorating him, filling him with the need for action. 

A small, almost unnoticeable rat.  Sitting happily on the shoulder of an ignorant young boy. 

Rat.  His fury had been caged for so long, tamed by imprisonment, cooled by self-pity, forgotten from years of torturous suffering. 

He'd kill him.  If it were the last thing he ever did.  He'd kill him.  He pounded his fist loudly against the door.  He was shivering in fury, unaware of the hurried footfalls on the other side of the wall.

"Oy, what's this?!  Get!  Get!  Can't have riff-raff like this on the doorstep!"

A loud voice brought him from his blood-boiling anger.  He rolled aside, slowly getting to his feet, as he felt himself being batted with a broomstick.

When he stood he could clearly see a small, plump old woman's silhouette in the doorway.  The white light from inside was warm and blinding, almost as blinding as the black of night.  He blinked lazily a moment, before pulling his dry tongue from the roof of his mouth.

"Rain?" he said, stupidly.  He stood perfectly still, unsure what the woman was about to do.  He braced himself for a run, but she didn't seem to recognize him, though she still clutched the broom tightly in her two tiny fists.

"Now, what do you want with Reina?" She asked, her white bun bouncing as she jutted her chin forward.

"Reina?"

The name struck a loud, booming chord in his mind.  Reina.  Reina.

Rain.

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            His knees trembled as he said the name to himself repeatedly.

            "Reina.  Reina.  Reina…Rain."

            Even his own voice seemed strangely unfamiliar to him, particularly when saying that blessed name over and over.

            The little woman and hobbled away, to find Reina.  Reina.  To find her and bring her to him.

            The door creaked open again, and this time the silhouette of a short, slender, young lady appeared.  She stood elegantly in the doorway, one hand pressed to the doorjamb, the other hidden behind her.

            It was her.

            "Who's there?  What did you want?"

            Her voice was soft, a caress, unbelievably familiar.  It brought cold tears to his eyes.  He shivered.

            "Reina?  Reina."

            "Yes, I'm Reina.  Who're you, sir?"

            She stepped out on the porch, a light above her turning on, illuminating the both of them.  He blinked blindly at the light and turned his tired eyes to her.  She was standing there, fully dressed in white dress robes, as splendid as a dream.

            He resisted the urge to fall at her feet.  To throw himself at her, cling to her for dear life.  To cry.

            "Reina?"

            She stared at him a long moment, taking in the long, lank black hair.  Her face stayed stone blank as she looked at the tall, skinny wizard in front of her, dressed in torn, shabby grayed robes.  Perhaps she was able to recognize his haunted face, because she let out a long, slow sigh.

            "Sirius."

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A/N:  Right now, for many reasons, the very thought of Sirius brings tears to my eyes.  Such a wonderful, handsome man.  Broken and destroyed.  So tragic.  This is the story of his love.  Starting the night he broke free from Azkaban.  I don't want to tease too much, so I will leave the storyline open and untold for now. 

Please review and let me know if I should continue with this piece.

Much appreciated!

Until next time –

Eclipsed Planet