Title: War is Over, If You Want It
Rating: G
Pairings: SB/RL
Author's Notes: This was written in response to a challenge on the 30MinuteFics community on Livejournal. It's funny how plot bunnies come to you.
***
When he woke up the bed beside him was empty and the sheets were cold. From his sprawl on the bed he could tell it was just past dawn which was the hour that he usual rose at. Sirius on the other hand was much more the type to have a lie in until. At half noon, on a good day, he'd grace the world with his presence but rarely before. Something about the situation gave him an uneasy feeling.
Slipping out of the bed he cursed as his bare feet touched the cold floor. The tiny flat was freezing, even by December standards, but he made do with his trousers and jumper from the day before to keep him warm. Through the wall he could hear the low sounds of his dated television. Following the noise he found Sirius sitting on the floor between the couch and the black and white screen. Mindless of the cold he sat in nothing but worn pajama bottoms, within in arms reach of a knitted afghan but he didn't seem aware of his surroundings.
The television droned on, Sirius in thrall. "... just before 11pm last night..."
"Sirius," he said, his voice still low and hoarse from sleep.
"...three witnesses..."
Sirius looked up with a start and rubbed bleary eyes. "Remus, it's so terrible."
"...firing four shots..."
For the first time he focused on the television screen and within seconds sank to the floor beside his lover. He'd never paid much attention to the news before. The set had only been used for football matches and bad late night movies before. Now the little box seemed to be the portent of doom. Bad omen in a cheap plastic box.
It seemed like ages before he could speak again. "Does Lily know?"
"...died of blood loss..."
Sirius nodded solemnly. Lily had been the first person to expose him to Muggle music and her disdain for anyone in the McCartney camp proclaimed her a Lennon fan. "She rang this morning, that's how I knew. Prongs sounded right gutted, himself."
"...pronounced dead at 11:15pm..."
"It's a bloody shame, I mean... I don't understand what provokes someone to kill." Remus rang his fingers through his too long hair. It was a helpless gesture but all he could do. "I mean, the man could be a complete arse but he stood for the right things."
"...survived by two children..."
"They say the bloke that did it just sat calmly and read after he'd shot him." Sirius stared at adverts that had taken over the television screen. "That book you tried to get us all to read back in 7th year."
"...saying, quote, "John loved and prayed for the human race. Please do the same for him'..."
"Hmm, 'Like a catcher in the rye'," the werewolf mused. "Why do they blame the books and not the people?"
"...already hundreds have gathered outside of Roosevelt Hospital..."
"Spoken like a true scholar. What about the Bewitching Best Seller from Bath?"
Remus didn't justify that with an answer, instead pulled himself to his feet and reached down to pull Sirius up. "I'll put on the kettle for tea, I know I need it. You?"
Sirius nodded and watched Remus off into the other room. Finally taking advantage of the afghan, he wrapped it around his shoulders and switched of the television in favor of his turntable. Selecting a fitting record, Shaved Fish, he set it to play and joined Remus in the kitchen.
"Is it strange that people die every day, that we are in the middle of a war... and all it takes is on man to get shot on another continent to leave me at a loss?"
Remus regarded his friend. He looked like a little lost boy in the worn pajamas, all swallowed up by the gold and brown blanket. "Perhaps it is a good thing, Padfoot. It means you are still able to feel."
Sirius frowned, glaring at the kettle as it shrieked. "You know, the closer it gets to Christmas the more I want to hide in bed all day?"
Handing Sirius a mug, Remus sat across from him at the scratched table. Looking down into his teacup, he smiled sadly. "Maybe next year we won't have so many worries."
"Moony, I'll hold you to that. You were always the best of us at Divinations."
***
Rating: G
Pairings: SB/RL
Author's Notes: This was written in response to a challenge on the 30MinuteFics community on Livejournal. It's funny how plot bunnies come to you.
***
When he woke up the bed beside him was empty and the sheets were cold. From his sprawl on the bed he could tell it was just past dawn which was the hour that he usual rose at. Sirius on the other hand was much more the type to have a lie in until. At half noon, on a good day, he'd grace the world with his presence but rarely before. Something about the situation gave him an uneasy feeling.
Slipping out of the bed he cursed as his bare feet touched the cold floor. The tiny flat was freezing, even by December standards, but he made do with his trousers and jumper from the day before to keep him warm. Through the wall he could hear the low sounds of his dated television. Following the noise he found Sirius sitting on the floor between the couch and the black and white screen. Mindless of the cold he sat in nothing but worn pajama bottoms, within in arms reach of a knitted afghan but he didn't seem aware of his surroundings.
The television droned on, Sirius in thrall. "... just before 11pm last night..."
"Sirius," he said, his voice still low and hoarse from sleep.
"...three witnesses..."
Sirius looked up with a start and rubbed bleary eyes. "Remus, it's so terrible."
"...firing four shots..."
For the first time he focused on the television screen and within seconds sank to the floor beside his lover. He'd never paid much attention to the news before. The set had only been used for football matches and bad late night movies before. Now the little box seemed to be the portent of doom. Bad omen in a cheap plastic box.
It seemed like ages before he could speak again. "Does Lily know?"
"...died of blood loss..."
Sirius nodded solemnly. Lily had been the first person to expose him to Muggle music and her disdain for anyone in the McCartney camp proclaimed her a Lennon fan. "She rang this morning, that's how I knew. Prongs sounded right gutted, himself."
"...pronounced dead at 11:15pm..."
"It's a bloody shame, I mean... I don't understand what provokes someone to kill." Remus rang his fingers through his too long hair. It was a helpless gesture but all he could do. "I mean, the man could be a complete arse but he stood for the right things."
"...survived by two children..."
"They say the bloke that did it just sat calmly and read after he'd shot him." Sirius stared at adverts that had taken over the television screen. "That book you tried to get us all to read back in 7th year."
"...saying, quote, "John loved and prayed for the human race. Please do the same for him'..."
"Hmm, 'Like a catcher in the rye'," the werewolf mused. "Why do they blame the books and not the people?"
"...already hundreds have gathered outside of Roosevelt Hospital..."
"Spoken like a true scholar. What about the Bewitching Best Seller from Bath?"
Remus didn't justify that with an answer, instead pulled himself to his feet and reached down to pull Sirius up. "I'll put on the kettle for tea, I know I need it. You?"
Sirius nodded and watched Remus off into the other room. Finally taking advantage of the afghan, he wrapped it around his shoulders and switched of the television in favor of his turntable. Selecting a fitting record, Shaved Fish, he set it to play and joined Remus in the kitchen.
"Is it strange that people die every day, that we are in the middle of a war... and all it takes is on man to get shot on another continent to leave me at a loss?"
Remus regarded his friend. He looked like a little lost boy in the worn pajamas, all swallowed up by the gold and brown blanket. "Perhaps it is a good thing, Padfoot. It means you are still able to feel."
Sirius frowned, glaring at the kettle as it shrieked. "You know, the closer it gets to Christmas the more I want to hide in bed all day?"
Handing Sirius a mug, Remus sat across from him at the scratched table. Looking down into his teacup, he smiled sadly. "Maybe next year we won't have so many worries."
"Moony, I'll hold you to that. You were always the best of us at Divinations."
***