trigger warning
Chapter Thirteen: Gone.
Sirius's feet dangled off the edge of the Astronomy tower, a cigarette clutched loosely in his hand. His eyes were closed, his jaw clenched, trying to stop the tears from coming. They never seemed to stop coming, no matter how hard he tried. It was fucking pathetic, he told himself, but no one ever said anything. Not to his face, at least.
He knew about all of the whispered conversations that took place behind his back, both good and bad. He knew about the concern of his friends, as well as the whispers of a particular group of Slytherins, who made sure to voice their thoughts just within earshot of Sirius. He heard them, and they knew he heard them. And they liked it that way. Because Sirius wouldn't— couldn't— do anything about it. They taunted him, then played innocent. He hardly cared anymore. He was used to it.
The only time it hurt was when Regulus was there. He loved his younger brother with his whole heart, but he had the strong feeling it wasn't mutual. Regulus had fallen in with that group of Slytherins, despite being a few years younger. The prestige of the Black family name was more than enough for the likes of Malfoy, Dolohov, and the Lestranges.
Sirius breathed out a mouthful of smoke and the crisp, cool breeze carried it away. He leaned back against the rail, feeling a piece of sharp metal poking him in the back. He shifted a little bit, more out of habit than because of the pain. He welcomed the pain. He cherished it.
That was sort of like Remus, he realized. Only Remus craved it more, actively sought it out. It hurt Sirius so much to see Remus hurting himself like that. He had never understood it. Not until recently, that is. The thought of cutting his wrist had crossed his mind every now and then, but he had never acted on it. It wasn't a strong urge, just a nagging thought in the back of his head.
He didn't need it, not like Remus did. He had other ways of coping. He glanced down at the cigarette in his hand and half empty flask next to him. A harsh, barking laugh escaped from his throat. He was glad that Remus wasn't here to see him. Remus hated when Sirius drank, especially during the day.
Sirius had been careful to hide his smoking habit from Remus, but he was pretty sure that his boyfriend had known. Remus had an excellent sense of smell, and there was no way Sirius had been able to successfully mask the smell of smoke that clung to him and seemed to follow him wherever he went. Oh well. Remus was fucking gone now, so it didn't matter. So Sirius drank more and he smoked more and it helped a little bit, but not really, because all he really needed was to have Remus back.
Remus wasn't coming back, though. He was gone. Gone. The word struck harshly at Sirius's mind, a blunt blow against him. He winced at the phantom pain, almost imagining he could feel it.
He flicked the cigarette butt off the roof and watched it fall. Just like Remus, his brain helpfully supplied. Fuck. He pulled out the worn pack from his pocket and lit another one. He didn't smoke every day, but when he needed some time and a smoke, he snuck off and enjoyed himself.
If you could call it enjoying himself, given all the thoughts that constantly pounded his brain, in one long, unceasing chorus of pain. Another small gust of wind caught the cigarette butt before it had fallen too far and carried it off into the distance.
Not Remus, though. Remus had fallen and fallen and hit the ground. Sirius shuddered. He wondered if Remus had had a moment, even just a split second, of regret. He wondered what his last thought had been. Had it been fear? Regret? Peace? Happiness, even? Had he been thinking about Sirius? Or about their stupid fight? Had he still been mad at Sirius? Had he forgiven him, even just in his mind?
Sirius wiped the tears away harshly, angry at himself for crying. He gulped down the rest of the flask, wincing as the harsh liquid burned his throat. He liked the burn, though. It was familiar. It was comforting.
Fuck, why did every thing have to hurt so much? Would he ever feel normal again? He doubted it. Not while Remus was gone. And Remus was never fucking coming back. He was gone. Gone.
He gave up trying to stop the tears, and let them fall, running down his cheeks and leaving little wet marks on his sweater. It reminded him of Remus, how he would hold Remus close when he was crying. He would feel Remus's chest moving up and down, feel Remus's tears staining his shirt, feel Remus's whole body trembling. He would stroke his hair, murmur little things in his ear. He would tell him it would be ok. He would tell him he was there for him. He would tell him that everything was going to be ok. He would tell him how much he loved him.
But everything wasn't ok. And it never would be. Because Sirius had failed. He hadn't been there for Remus, not at the moment when Remus needed him more than anything. Remus gone. And Sirius blamed himself.
He ran his free hand through his hair, tucking roughly at the tangled locks. He couldn't remember the last time he had showered, let alone washed his hair. He just didn't care. And Remus wasn't there to tell him to. James and Peter could only do so much. Sirius was good at hiding things. He had to be, given the house he had grown up in.
Despite his family name, he hadn't grown up in a household where he could have whatever he wanted like James. And he hadn't grown up in a household where he was poor, but at least had parents who tried and cared and were there, like Peter and Remus. He had grown up in a household where he was belittled and abused and used. So he had to hide, and he had to lie, and he had grown used to it. It was just the way things were.
But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Because Remus was gone. And nothing could change that.
A/N:
hi
i'm really sorry i haven't updated in months. i also went back and read my last author's note and i'm really sorry if i worried anyone. i'm ok. i haven't relapsed in sh. i graduated, and now i'm working at an amusement park near my house and getting ready to move to the east coast for college in a few weeks. i don't know how often i'll be able to update, but i am going to try. i see all of the emails about kudos and comments and thank you so much for still supporting me, you have no idea how much it means. i'm sorry if it took me forever to reply to your comment.
i am active on instagram if you want to stay in contact with me, my main is /xx_emohamlet_xx
i love you all so much, stay safe, take care, i'm so proud of you. love you all
ktf xolyn 3
