Disclaimer: I'm poor, proof enough that I don't own these characters.
Sirius sat blinking dumbfounded at the wall. He had killed someone, maybe more than one person. Hadn't Wallace said, "in terms of radiance, I've been so much better than you?" Hadn't Wallace only killed one person? If Sirius interrupted the radiance comment correctly, that meant he had killed more than one person.
And that was why he was in Azkaban. Now that he knew, he wished more than anything that he didn't have the knowledge.
Wallace was still talking, going on about the details of killing Conklin, but Sirius didn't care. Even though he liked Wallace, he couldn't be bothered to care at this moment.
The moment when he knew.
Who had he murdered? Why had he murdered someone? None of his few memories made him feel murderous, it just didn't make sense.
Or does it? There's so much that you don't remember; so much that is still lost to you. Just because you can't remember feelings and events doesn't mean that they never happened.
Sirius felt as if he were going to be sick, but as he sat heaving in the corner, nothing made its way up his throat. He felt hopeless, like he was drowning. Like he'd never be happy again.
And for once, Dementors didn't inspire the feeling.
All he wanted was to remember.
It was a long time before he fell asleep.
He slept for hours, the weight of his problems pushed to the back of his mind, the woes of his world all forgotten.
Hours turned into days, with Sirius slipping in and out of consciousness often, but never for long. When he was awake he was in agony. Not physical, but mental. When he slept he was haunted by fragments of memory that he couldn't be sure if they were real or not.
He wanted to die, just to escape the pain of his reality.
"Death won't solve you problems, Sirius." Someone talking outside of his cell awaked Sirius. He looked up and found himself starring into the depths of Albus Dumbledore's blue eyes.
"I'm sorry. I should considering asking before I delve into you thoughts, Mr. Black." Dumbledore smiled.
Sirius stared at him, not blinking. Unless he was there to kill him, he didn't care. Even though days ago he had wished vigorously for Dumbledore to visit, he no longer cared.
"I've been talking to Wallace, Sirius. He's worried about you. He says you've been sick for many days." Dumbledore started.
Sirius looked away from Dumbledore's age lined face, wondering how many days he'd been avoiding the world.
"Six days." Dumbledore answered. Sirius was shocked that Dumbledore knew what he was about to ask.
"Don't be. You've known for many long years that I can look into your mind. Look into everyone's mind. You have yet to remember this, is all." Dumbledore smiled again.
"Why are you here, old man?" Sirius asked with the voice of one who carries all the grief of the world on their shoulders.
"I often times ask myself why I do such things. In all honestly, I should hate you for what you did, how you betrayed us all. Yet, I find it in my heart to come, to see you through your fear. I will continue to come until you remember, until you remember everything, Sirius.
"There will be times when you do not want me here, like right now. There will be times when I do not want to be here, but yet I will continue to come. No matter what you did, you need someone to be there for you. Even the greatest servant of the Dark Lord will have a need for personal relationships. I intend, against the wishes of everyone in the Order, to be this person for you." Dumbledore explained.
"I don't want you here now, or ever again, Dumbledore. If you're not here to tell me what I did, or to give me back my life, than there's no reason for you to be here! Leave, Albus, just leave and never return!" Sirius bellowed.
"No." Was all Dumbledore replied.
"Listen to me, old man. What little I remember of you is enough to convince me that you are conniving and you withhold information that could be used to make better informed decisions. It's probably all your fault that I'm here, isn't it?"
Dumbledore ignored the question, but asked one of his own in return. "And what little do you remember of me, Sirius?"
"Only that you came to me, practically begging me to become their Secret Keeper. You convinced me that it had to be me, but you didn't give me all the information. You withheld information, and I think because of that I made the wrong choice!"
"A choice, Sirius, which had to be made, whether or not you wanted to, and you know that." Dumbledore paused and studied Sirius through his deep blue eyes. "You remember them, then, do you?" He finally asked after what felt like an eternity to Sirius.
"Yes, and no. I know their faces, and their voices, but they mean little to me anymore."
"Who do you remember? How much about them do you remember?" Dumbledore pressed urgently.
"James, and his wife Lily. They have a son, Harry. Harry Potter. James, he's my best friend, isn't he?"
Dumbledore nodded solemnly, and waited for Sirius to continue.
"I remember Remus. He believed in me, until he went to Voldemort."
"Remus never went to the Dark Side, Sirius. He never did, and never will, resort to mingling with the Dark Lord." Dumbledore refuted, shocked.
"I told James he did, though. Why would I do that?"
"I have no clue. That is something you are going to have to remember." Dumbledore answered gravely.
"Oh." Sirius trailed off.
"Who else do you remember?"
"Peter," Sirius started, but stopped when he saw Dumbledore look into his eyes with keen interest.
"What?" He pressed.
Dumbledore did not reply, but stood searching Sirius' face with those startling blue eyes. Searching for what, Sirius would never be able to tell.
"WHAT?" He shouted.
"Tell me, what do you remember of Peter?"
"Nothing. He was just sort of there in a memory. He just walked into the room, I said 'Hello, Pete,' and left. Seems like a nervous little thing, really."
"Another of your best friends, as well as Remus. The four of you were practically inseparable." Dumbledore smiled, but Sirius detected another emotion hidden behind the smile.
"Why does that make you sad?" He asked quite suddenly.
Dumbledore studied his face a moment longer before answering. "The four of you will never see each other again, Sirius."
"They won't come visit me, then? Like you do?"
"Azkaban is not a place that usually draws visitors, Sirius." Was all Dumbledore said.
"But you come, and no one wants you not to! Won't they come? They're my best friends! Won't they come?"
"No, Sirius."
"Why not?"
"That, is something you are going to have to remember." Dumbledore said, as he turned to leave, the tears falling rather freely from his eyes now.
Sirius sat in his cell, staring after the one man who seemed to know everything about him. He couldn't let him leave, even if ten minutes before he had been bellowing at the man to leave and never come back. Dumbledore knew something, something that Sirius wanted to know.
Something that Sirius needed to know.
"Who did I kill?" He asked to Dumbledore's retreating back.
Dumbledore spun around more quickly than Sirius had thought possible for the old man. "What did you say?" He asked urgently.
"I asked who I killed. Was it Snape? Because, he's the only person who I remember that I could possibly imagine killing..."
"It wasn't Severus, and it not someone who you hated."
"THEN YOU KNOW! WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME?" Sirius shouted so loud the bars of his cage rattled.
"The whole world knows what you did, Sirius." Dumbledore seethed.
"Then why won't anyone let me in on this dirty little secret?"
Dumbledore's blue eyes burned with anger at the pitiful man sitting in the dirty cell before him. The nerve of him, asking that question out right.
"If you remember that you killed someone, than you should very well remember who it was, Mr. Black." Dumbledore answered rather angrily through clenched teeth.
"BUT I DON'T!" Sirius screamed back at the old man, as he jumped up and ran towards the cell door. All he wanted to do was hurt the Professor, hurt him the way he's hurt Snape.
Dumbledore stepped back and stared at Sirius with narrowed eyes. "If you don't remember, then you will." He practically spat, as he turned and left.
Sirius stood rather dumbly at the cell door, listening to the constant, nerve-grating drip of water from an unseen source. He unclenched his fists and tried to clear his mind.
It was true; Dumbledore had proven his fears true. He had killed someone.
"Umm, Sirius?"
Sirius whipped his head over to look into Wallace cell. "What?" He snapped.
"I didn't know that you'd forgotten everything. I thought you knew. All this time, I thought you knew whom you had killed. I'm sorry, mate." Wallace muttered, as he walked into the dark depths of his own cell.
"You heard all of that?" Sirius said, seething again.
"I asked Dumbledore why he used the spell last time. He didn't answer, but I asked him to not put the spell on this time because I was worried about you. I had to hear for myself that you were alright. I didn't expect what I heard, though." Wallace answered again.
Sirius blinked slowly once or twice, before trying to form a sentence.
Suddenly, Dumbledore came bursting through the door, rushing directly in front of Wallace's cell, blowing past Sirius as if he weren't even there.
"You will tell him nothing, Mr. Ripley. The punishment he gets from Azkaban is not enough for him. He deserves to be tortured by himself for what he has done. You will ...tell ...him ... nothing." Dumbledore ordered, and turned from the room again, not even looking at Sirius.
"You're going to tell me, aren't you? Even though he told you not to?" Sirius begged desperately.
"Even though I'm never going to get out of this place, Sirius, I couldn't stand knowing that Dumbledore was mad at me. I'm sorry, I can't tell you."
Sirius stared at Wallace, hardly daring to believe what he'd just heard.
"So, I've just got to remember on my own then, have I?" He snapped.
"Look, mate, I like you, and you know it. However, what you did has the lowest level of morality of any crime I've ever heard committed. You deserve not only the punishment of Azkaban, but the punishment of having to remember for yourself." Wallace shrugged.
"How do I live with that knowledge?" Sirius asked honestly.
"What knowledge, mate?"
"Well, the knowledge of knowing that the two people on earth who I know and like want to see me suffer?"
"You'll understand when you do remember, mate. I promise." Wallace answered honestly before he turned to go to the back of his cell.
Sirius said nothing. There was nothing left for him to say. Dumbledore hated him and would probably never come back. Wallace suddenly felt very sorry for him and would probably never talk to him the same way again. His three bests friends would not be coming to visit him, and he had to remember why on his own. At least, he still had the semi-crazy Jimmy to count on.
He looked over to Jimmy cell and was startled to find it empty. "WALLACE!" He screamed, "WHERE'S JIMMY?"
"The Dementors, Sirius, you missed it."
Sirius stared into Jimmy's empty cell. Not even a week had passed since they had Kissed Pondex. When would they take Wallace? When would the day come when Sirius would be truly alone in his nightmarish world?
When that day came, would he cheer for Wallace as the other prisoners had during Pondex's demise? Would he cry, for losing the one person in the world he felt understood him? Would he even be sane enough then to care? Or would he sit and laugh foolishly as Jimmy had when the Dementors came for Pondex?
Only time would tell. And time was something Sirius knew he had world full of.
Goody, a double post today! Keep reading!