A/N: Trigger Warnings for mention of abuse, and suicide attempts.

The answer to avoiding a hangover is to keep drinking, was probably one of Sirius's top philosophies. The other would be to avoid things when they got awkward and not deal with them. Sirius would have practiced both at the moment, but he had made a promise to Mr. Potter and Remus that he would keep the drinking to a minimum.

His parents did not give a fuck. His brother hardly spoke to him. He had the Marauders, and he had the Potters. That was it, and that was enough.

On this Sunday morning, the four Marauders were passed out in James Potter's back yard, Peter and James in the tent, Sirius and Remus out of the tent, near the remains of the bon fire. Sirius fell asleep cuddling a bottle of rum he had found in muggle London a week ago. Sirius had felt like rebelling, James had hoped there was a chance he would see Lily.

Sirius's head was pounding and he wished he could keep sleeping forever. His throat was dry and he was suffering a severe case of cotton mouth. He didn't even want to think about how he felt, but it was probably something close to gasoline. In short, he felt like shit, and he looked it to. It was too hot and sticky for him to stay asleep. He did not want to move, but he needed to get inside.

Carefully, he stood up and tried to walk into the house. The world was spinning. This woke Remus, who grabbed Sirius by the elbows and steered him inside to the emerald green sofa in Mr. Potter's study. Remus knew better than to talk.

He put Sirius's head down on the table, tip toed into the kitchen and grabbed him some water.

Sirius took the glass with shaking hands and slowly sipped.

"Pancakes?"

He shook his head. "I'll only puke." He handed Remus back the glass and curled up into himself. Remus went back upstairs into Sirius's room and grabbed a blanket. He stopped in the kitchen again to tell Mr. and Mrs. Potter that Sirius was severely hung over and sleeping in the study. He put the blanket over Sirius and sat in the chocolate brown leather chair with a book in hand.

Remus waited.

Sirius slept like the dead.

At one point, he began to sweat, kicked the blanket off, moaned about how someone should put a bullet in his head, and then was silent once more. Then he grew cold. Remus got up, put the blanket back on him, and sat back down with his book.

At ten p.m, Sirius woke up. Remus had stayed for twelve hours, waiting. "What are you reading?" His voice was hoarse. Remus handed him a fresh glass of water.

"War and Peace," he whispered. "Someone's love of Russian novels has rubbed off on me.

"Read it to me?" Sirius tried to sit up.

"I'm in the middle of it."

"That's okay. I've read it three times."

Remus started reading out loud, but stopped. "Wait-three times? I've not even read it once. When did you read War and Peace three times?"

"Twice last summer, once while you were in France this summer." He shrugged, turned over onto his stomach and put his head on the arm rest, staring at Remus.

"I was not gone for very long and you were writing me letters the entire time."

"Right. But I'm a quick reader and once I like something, I like it. So, once this summer, twice last summer."

"That's impressive."

"I didn't sleep much, not that impressive. The book, Moony." He waved his hand toward the water glass until he reached it.

"Right. War and Peace." He started reading, shaking his head. There were a lot of things that Remus knew about Sirius. Sometimes he liked to think that he even knew more than James did. But then there were things that he did not notice. He knew that Sirius liked reading books, but only books that he liked. He stuck to American and Russian novels mostly. Poetry was usually out of the question, but he liked Oscar Wilde. He loved Jane Austen. Most people did not notice that he liked to read.

He did not do much to convince people otherwise.

Remus had made his way through a chapter when Mr. Potter came in. "How are you feeling, son?"

"Like death."

"Excessive drinking will do that to you." His voice was kind, but this made it sting worse. Sirius winced. "I'm not here to lecture you. But I have pancakes. Remus, your Dad called and he wants you home."

Remus nodded and with a wave, walked out.

It was late. Sirius was still tired, but awake enough to actually have a conversation.

"Sorry." The word was out of him before he could stop himself. "I'm sorry."

Mr. Potter took Remus's place. He pushed his glasses back onto his nose. "What are you sorry for?"

Sirius sighed, "Everything." It was easy to say that than think about every sin he had committed.

"Could you narrow that down for me?"

"I'm a hard person to deal with. I make a lot of mistakes. I know that. I'm sorry because you do so much for me and I'm just an idiot and I just piss my life away. I probably won't even remember this conversation tomorrow."

"We know that… things are… hard for you. It's not fair how things have been for you, Sirius. But you can't keep going on this way."

"I know."

"Then do something about it. I don't ask for much, Sirius."

"I know."

"Then that's all I'll say about it. You don't need another lecture, and I don't like lecturing. Or I would have been a professor." He winked.

"Good one, sir."

He rolled his eyes. "Do we need to have another chat?"

"Another one?"

"About a certain boy."

"Remus?" Sirius sat up. "There's nothing going on between Remus and me. I'm not gay."

"You're not gay, then. But if you were, I would still treat you the same."

Sirius snorted. "There's nothing going on between Remus and me." He said this firmly.

"There's nothing going on between you and Remus. But if there ever is, and you want to talk about it, you know where to find me."

"Okay, okay." Sirius rolled his eyes again.

"Do you want your pancakes?"

"Starving your children is generally frowned upon." He held out his hands for the plate. The pancakes were nothing short of spectacular. He ate quickly, took War and Peace off the table, and made a note of where Remus had left off before turning the book over to the front cover. He read for a while before going upstairs to bed. He did not see James or Peter all day. His head still ached, but not nearly as badly.

He took out Let It Be and played Across the Universe again.

Nothing's going to change my world. He wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe that there was nothing going on with him about Remus. It's all in my head. We're just good friends. I like girls. He had told himself this what seemed like a million times a day. He found a bottle of vodka and began drinking again. He felt like he was falling into an abyss. He couldn't accept the truth. He couldn't accept who he was and what people would think-what Remus would think. In that moment, he wanted to be swallowed up completely. He wanted to find himself again in the bottle. All Sirius could do was end the pain the only way he knew how.

Once Let It Be finished, he took out The Velvet Underground and let Lou Reed serenade him.

At two, he ran to the bathroom and vomited, emptying the contents of his stomach into the porcelain toilet. He laid down on the cold, hard grown, and let the cold cover him. He fell back into the abyss.

At four, James opened the bathroom door and turned on the light. He found Sirius passed out, cradling the toilet. Vomit filled the air. "God damn it, Sirius." James went over to help him up. He could not wake up. He was still breathing. "Fuck. Come on, Sirius." James splashed cold water onto his face. "Come on, Sirius." Panic flooded him. "DAD! SIRIUS ISN'T WAKING UP!" He yelled down the stairs. He held onto him, trying desperately to wake him up.

Sirius was covered in vomit. It was all over the toilet and the floor.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter opened the door. They were both in pajamas and Mrs. Potter had curlers in her hair. James looked up at them desperately. "What do we do?"

"Take him to St. Mungos." Mrs. Potter answered as she tried not to cry.

"I'll help you get him up." They could not floo there; Sirius was still unconscious.

They managed to secure a car and got Sirius into it. Mr. Potter sat in the back with Sirius, rubbing the hair out of his eyes, checking for signs of life. No one spoke to each other, but held their breaths.

They reached St. Mungos at five thirty. James owled Peter and Remus before joining his parents in the waiting room.

"Do you think someone should let them know?" Mrs. Potter asked, as she held her arm over James and was rubbing his back. Her voice was shaky, barely above a whisper.

As a rule, they did not bring up Sirius's family. They did not discuss the Black family unless Sirius brought it up, even then with unease, uncertainty at how he would react.

A nurse came out. "Are you his family?"

"For all intents and purposes, yes." Mr. Potter responded.

"We took him in once he was disowned a few weeks ago." Mrs. Potter added.

The nurse nodded. "How old is he?"

"Sixteen." She nodded.

"When will we know something?" Mrs. Potter asked.

"I'm not quite sure. I'll let you know as soon as I can." The nurse gave a quick glance and then turned and disappeared into a corridor. They did not see anyone for a few hours. They sat. They waited. Sirius still had not opened his eyes.

At nine, Peter ran into the waiting room, scanning for James. "What the hell happened?"

"We don't really know. Keep your voice down." James looked at his mother, then put his arm around him to steer him away so they could talk properly.

"I'm sorry I just woke up and came as soon as I could. Where's Remus?"

"Not here yet. I'm sure he'll turn up." James frowned. "I keep trying to make sense of it, you know? I can't. I don't understand. I knew it was shitty back home, but I don't see how this could happen because he always does this, but not on this level? This isn't like him at all."

"Remus would be good right now. Remus would know what to do."

"There's nothing we can really do, Pete." James took off his glasses, cleaned them, and slid them back onto his face.

"Do you think it was… you know? Not an accident?" He whispered.

"I don't fucking know anymore."

At noon, Remus still had not shown. Sirius had opened his eyes. They were still not allowed to see him.

"They're my family." His voice was weak and it hurt to talk. "Please. You have to let me see them."

"They aren't your legal guardians, I'm sorry." A woman with long blonde hair sat in a chair by the bed.

"My parents sure as hell aren't coming. You can go if you've got somewhere else to be. I'll be alright."

"I've been instructed to sit with you."

"Why?" His voice sounded harsher than he meant it to. He sat up to get a better look at her.

"Because until we decide otherwise, you are a danger to yourself."

"It was an accident." His body ached. He fell back down. "Can you turn off the fucking lights and cure my headache? Jesus bloody fuck what kind of hell hole is this?"

"You're Sirius Black, aren't you?"

"Yeah… I'm here with another scandal. Please. Let me see them."

"I'll see what I can do, but I'll have to stay in here."

"I promise, I'm not going anywhere. Even if I wanted to."

"I'll see if I can get them to respond to our owls."

He lay there. This was probably the worst he had ever felt, and he had felt pretty shitty at several points in his life. Not when he had been beaten within an inch of his life. Not when he had betrayed Remus, though that was the worst thing he could have done. Not when he had been kicked out and disowned. He noticed the bin beside the bed, grabbed it with as much strength he had, and managed to vomit before getting it all over himself.

She came back. "Once we get permission for them to see you, they can. That was the best I could do. Someone is going to admit you to the abused substances ward."

"I don't abuse substances."

"If you really believe that."

"When are they coming?"

"The ward is full right now. As soon as a bed opens up for you, they'll take you up."

Sirius didn't know what to say, and he was drifting in and out of consciousness. He closed his eyes. The world had been spinning. He took his right hand and noticed the hospital band around it before rubbing his forehead.

"When does the headache stop?"

"When you sober up."

The truth was, he could sit there and argue that he hadn't meant to kill himself. He wasn't sure whether he had or not. He could argue that he didn't have a problem, that he was okay. But he knew they wouldn't listen to that. This was rock bottom, and all he could do was try to climb his way out of it.

A healer came in. "You're parents said they can visit. We'll be changing your room tonight. He looked at the chart and then at Sirius again before leaving the room.

The Potter's and Peter entered shortly after. Mrs. Potter rushed to his side and reached for his hand. "Are you alright, Sirius?"

"I'll be fine, thanks."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, they'll fix me up and I'll come home again, you'll see." He couldn't bear to look at her. "Listen," he took a deep breath and tried to sit up a little higher, "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean- I didn't… I didn't. I'm so sorry." He broke into tears. "Where's Remus?"

"He had an emergency. He'll be here when he can." Mr. Potter tried to smile.

"I'm just glad you're awake, Sirius." Peter added. "That's the important thing, right?"

"Right. You're going to get better and everything will be fine and we'll be back at school before you know it."

"Don't tell anyone I cried."

"Why would we?" Peter reassured him.

"I think I need a cigarette."

"You can't smoke in here, I'm sorry." Four heads turned to face her, having forgotten she was there.

"That's a good thing, Sirius. You shouldn't smoke. If there's anything I should bring you, and you can have it, you let me know." Mrs. Potter again tried her best to reassure him.

No one commented on it, but tension hung over everyone.

"I think I need sleep. I'm sorry, but this is one heck of a hangover and I'm so tired. And you all have to be tired, too. Come see me when I look better." He continued to ramble about feeling better soon, about how good this was going to be. "I just need to rest. It'll all be better when the sun comes up and I've rested."

He had no idea how that would be true.

"Please tell Remus I think I've had enough of this. Please tell him to see me." He took a shaggy breath. "When his emergency passes." He knew that he was the emergency.