Summary: What do you do when you feel the last threads of sanity slipping?
Pairings: Nope.
Main Characters: Sirius. A fair chunk of James, Peter and Remus too.
Spoilers: Book three and five.
Disclaimer: I have no legal rights to the Harry Potter series, and this is just for fun. Don't sue!
Enjoy.
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Purple.
The color is luring, snaking down my fingers in twisted designs, creating shapes only I can make sense of, only I can see.
The bruising is in its first stage now. Soon it will turn an ugly black, surrounded with snatches of green and blue. I love the colors and I love the feeling. Moving my hands, feeling the ache and the protests of my body. Feeling the searing pain and disgust, yet the utter admiration of success. I am successful after all. I hurt myself again. I hurt my mind. I released my agony. And as such, I'm staying sane. I think.
I hit the stone wall again.
I am trapped. Locked behind bars, committed for a crime. I pause and think. What crime? I can no longer remember…
"I need your help, Sirius." That's right. Needed my help. James. James needed my help. Oh god… James. I squeeze my eyes shut, but nothing can stop the movie from playing out in my mind.
"Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?" How could I? How dare I! Silencing a scream, I slam my fist into the wall yet again. I killed him, killed him! James… my best friend.
I blink.
No. No, that wasn't right.
"Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?" Again the words play out in my mind. Struggling, I think. Peter. Peter did this, Peter and I.
"They trusted you, Sirius! How could you?" Peter's voice rings loudly in my head.
They trusted you too…
Yes. That was right. They trusted us both.
"No." The word comes out of my mouth parched and dry. My voice is drowned out by screams, but it doesn't matter. Just hearing it is enough. Just thinking it is enough. No, no, no, no, no.
I am innocent.
"Innocent." I repeat it again, out loud, for I can feel the last strings of my sanity slipping away. "Innocent"
Crying out, I slam my fist into the wall again. The pain shoots up my arm, and the first trickle of blood inches down my hand. It doesn't matter, the pain helps me think.
Innocent. Innocent. Innocent.
Almost instantaneously, I feel it. A sliver of coldness snakes up my spine, ensnaring my mind.
With a groan, I sink to floor, as the coldness sweeps throughout my entire body.
"Blood traitor! Filth! Shame of my flesh" Crying out, I clamp my hands over my ears. Grinding my teeth, I pray for my mother's voice to disappear. My mind searches futilely for the release that saved me before. Who saved me from my mother?
Think!
James. The answer hits me with a flash. James.
Almost instantly, James' voice floods throughout my head, and the image of my old, aged, sullen mother is replaced by an angry, sour looking teenage boy.
"You arrogant, twisted bastard! How could you do that to Remus? To all of us? How could you?" His voice floods through me, pulling me deeper into despair. I choke, trying to escape my mind - a highly futile effort.
An accident, James. I swear, an accident. Snape wasn't supposed to listen to me!
"I don't care! Don't you ever think!"
No.
"I can't even look at you right now! You don't deserve to be anywhere near Remus. Anywhere near me. Don't' you understand what you've done?"
I do understand, James. Better then anything. I know what I've done! I've killed you. I killed you. And Lily. Beautiful Lily. You loved her so much. I'm so sorry. I've destroyed everything.
"I trusted you Sirius. We all trusted you!"
I know.
"You betrayed us!"
"NO!" The scream tears from my mouth, and I slam both fists into the wall as hard as I possibly can, as many times as I can, until the blood is streaming down in rivers and the purple coloring is spreading, engulfing my hands. The scream ends in a hoarse, choked sound.
"Never James, never" I whisper softly.
I won't let you die.
I pull myself up, and drag myself to the corner, shivering. The memories are no longer raging inside my mind, but I'm shaking hard and struggling not to cry. Straining to clear my mind again, I try and think. Why have the memories ceased for a moment? I don't dare hope my dream for escape has come true. I barely have enough time too wonder where the dementors have gone before I hear him.
Fudge.
I hear him stroll down the isle, and I can feel his nervousness from inside my cell. I can feel his willingness to overlook anything to escape the cold hell I've been convicted too. I can feel the hatred start to inch through my soul, as the burning knowledge resurfaces.
Innocent.
Yes. Yes! I am innocent.
I hear Fudge coming forward now, closer to my cell, his hurried footsteps barely stopping by each cage. A thought screams at me, talk to him. Get him to stay. As insane as it is, if Fudge stays, the dementors don't return. My mother stays away. Even better, James can still be alive somewhere, and this experience can just be a horrible nightmare that I can wake up from.
Please, oh god, let it be a nightmare.
"Fudge" I whisper his name as he comes into view.
Please, please notice me.
Fudge continues walking, if anything he speeds up, probably not wanting to confront me.
"Fudge" I speak stronger this time, and I note with disgust that my voice has taken on a desperate tone.
Fudge turns slowly, and gives somewhat of a nervous smile, fiddling with his fingers, and backing away in a way I'm sure he thought was inconspicuous.
"What would you like … uhh" Fudge takes a moment, and looks at the name carved into the wall next to my cell. "Sirius"
If anything, he now looks more terrified. Under any other normal circumstances, I would have found the situation highly amusing, but Azkaban seems to have wiped me of my ability of feeling happiness or have anything that slightly resembled humor.
"Stay"
The quiver in my voice disgusts me, and it takes all my willpower not to completely break down into tears. I'm so disgusted with myself I can hardly breathe, but it will all be worth it if the dementors don't come back. If I never have to see James die again.
Fudge looks at me for a minute, as if trying to decide if I am as crazy as everyone else in their personal hells.
Slowly, he shakes his head, and backs up slowly. "I'm sorry, Sirius, but I'm not staying"
No! My mind screams, yells, twists, and panics. My entire being is screaming for James, begging for him to save me, to help me. With no dementors around, the growing need to have my friend come save me grows, as does my firm belief that he'll come around the bend any minute, and beat the minister of magic into a pulp for imprisoning me when I am innocent.
Innocent.
That final thought freezes my insides, and for the first time, the word innocent holds nothing but despair for me. I didn't kill James - but James is dead. The horrible sensation grows as I come to know that James won't be coming. The sensation of grief is so strong it would have driven me to my knees if I wasn't already kneeling. A dry sob escapes my mouth, and for the first time, I notice that Fudge is holding the newspaper.
"Can I have that?" I whisper softy, trying hard to distract myself from the grief that is steadily drowning my mind.
"What?" Fudge replies absent mindedly, apparently thinking our conversation was over.
"Your paper. I … miss doing the crossword" A blatant lie. I hate crosswords.
Fudge frowns for a moment at me, as if trying to figure out if this is an elaborate prank or scheme that I'm pulling. Then he slowly takes a step forward, and places the paper on the ground, in arms reach. Slowly, I reach forward and pull the paper back into my cell. I shift and move back into the corner, waiting for the return of the dementors, waiting for the nightmares to return. Waiting for the only stable thoughts I've had in the past little while to vanish in a whirlwind of misery and terrors.
I turn the paper over in my hands, and freeze with shock. There, sitting on a boys shoulder was Peter. I am certain of this, and the rushing, numbed feelings return quickly.
The little rat…
As scary as this is, it is nothing compared to the shock I receive as I skim the article and learn he'll return to Hogwarts. Hogwarts, with Harry.
Harry. Lily. James.
The cold sliver of despair indicate the dementors are returning, and I clamp my hands over my ears when the nightmares return.
"You arrogant twisted bastard! You betrayed us!"
I won't fail you again Prongs.
"Lily and James! How could you, Sirius?"
No. How could you, Peter.
With an iron fist of determination to not fail James again, I begin muttering to myself:
"He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts"
I must stay sane.
I'm innocent. The real murderer is with Harry. I must save Harry.
I won't fail you again, James.