x x x

"Stop it, please god, stop-"

"God isn't listening. He doesn't care, filth - No one cares-"

"No-"

"Worthless-"

"Please-"

"Deserve to die, traitor - you deserve to die-"

x x x

He wasn't surprised when he awoke, feeling like he'd just run a marathon. He didn't move, coiled snake-like underneath the thin blanket, sobbed pleas echoing in his mind, a droplet of sweat burning a line of ice across his temple. Soft light sifted through the blanket that was covering him entirely, protecting his prone face from the cold of the common room in the morning. The ashes from last night's fire lay like black frost in the hearth.

The nightmares were nothing new. For six years, whenever he was scared or upset or even angry, he'd wake up gasping, hair plastered to his face and neck. He didn't scream anymore when they came to him - he was too used to it. They never brought pain with them - just terror and humiliation and the sound of pure desperation in his begging voice.

The armrest of the sofa was hard against his bent neck, and he shifted in an attempt to ease the tightness in his chest. It didn't work, however; Sirius didn't think that there'd ever be anything that could soothe his choking guilt. The jury was still out on his expulsion, and much as Sirius could not imagine staying at Hogwarts after committing a murder, he didn't know what he'd do if he was expelled. He didn't have anywhere to go. And going back to Grimmauld Place...

Sirius clenched his eyes shut, unable to stop the tremors that came at the thought of returning to that house. He tried not to think about what would happen if his parents got their hands on him, after they'd disowned him. Grimmauld Place was what he deserved - hell was what he deserved for what he'd done-

His mother was right. His father was right. He was a worthless traitor after all.

Taking a shuddering breath, he clenched at the blanket as he heard the footsteps, coming down one of the fourteen staircases that led into the Gryffindor common room. It's a first year, he thought, forcing himself to believe it. A seventh year, up early to study for NEWTs-

A board creaked at the foot of the stairs, and light, weightless footsteps floated across the floor. The scrape of book covers and parchment on scarred wood - Sirius now remembered having seen a pile of such items on one of the tables. They're just getting their things, Sirius, calm down. A bookbag rustled as the student put away the belongings that they'd left the previous night; a harmless, quiet student. He let out his breath, which he only just realized he'd been holding, in a almost silent, ragged hiss. Safe.

The student suddenly stopped, dropping the remaining books on the table with a loud clunk. "Is someone here?" a high voice called, a familiar voice. Sirius's stomach plummeted down to greet his toes - aside from the Marauders, this was the one person that he never wanted to have to face ever again. But apparently he was not going to get what he wanted, because he could hear her looking, still asking, "Hello? Anyone here?" Sirius pressed his back into the sofa, as if he could melt into it, and tried not to breathe.

Too late. Cold winter morning light flooded through his eyelids as the comforting warm of the blanket vanished, and a quivering voice pierced holes through his bruised soul, "Sirius? Are you alright?"

Sirius blinked, unable to look at the angel that glowed blood red in the pale blue dawnlight. "Fine." He didn't lift his head, didn't try to pretend that he wasn't lying. What was the point? She always knew, just like - just like Remus always knew. It was a waste of time to try and convince Lily of something that she didn't believe.

"What are you doing here? It's freezing." She wouldn't be saying this if she knew what he'd done, he knew it. If she knew that he'd killed her best friend... Sirius shook his head tersely, swallowing back the swelling tears.

Large green eyes, even still branded with grief, found his. "What on earth happened? Why aren't you in the dormitory?"

Sirius wondered if she could see the guilt in his gaze before he jerked his head away, shutting his eyelids to avoid having to see the sorrow of Severus's loss on the emeralds that James so adored. "We - we fought," he muttered, pulling himself to an upright position in a imitation of dignity. "It's only one night - it's not a big deal-"

And of course he was lying, because there was nothing that was a bigger deal than what was currently splitting the Marauders into Sirius and Remus, James and Peter. It was an insult to Sniv - Severus's memory to say it wasn't a big deal, it was an insult to Lily, it was a betrayal of Remus, to add to the list-

"You guys never fight. It must be a big deal." Her voice shouldn't be that calm, he thinks wildly. She shouldn't be that normal while talking to him - while talking to her best friend's murderer. She doesn't know... She doesn't know...

"Okay, so I lied. It is a big deal." Shrugging off the hand that had somehow made its way to his arm, he stood up, opening his eyes. "I should go..."

He was suddenly conscious of Lily's fingers on his shoulders. Drops of poison stared into his eyes, almost too green. "What happened?" Her voice was soft, concerned. Like she actually wanted to help Sirius.

Sirius didn't know what to say. Lily was too observant to believe a lie, but the truth was not an option. He deserved her hatred, but Remus did not. He had betrayed Remus enough. "Lily, I can't-"

A sharp intake of breath sounded behind Sirius. Whirling in surprise, he saw James. James, glaring at him with absolute blinding hatred. That was the only way James had looked at him since it had happened, but frequency didn't lessen the nausea at seeing such a familiar, non-Black face contorted like that.

Sirius didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. Lily had dropped her arms, looking taken aback by the sheer strength of James's anger. "What in Merlin's name-"

"Leave her alone," James hissed. Sirius looked away, unable to continue recieving the loathing gaze. "If you dare hurt her I'll kill you, I swear I will-"

"He wasn't trying to hurt me - God, James, what's going on? You know Sirius wouldn't-"

She was silenced by James's angry retort, biting back through the air to sink its sharp teeth into Sirius's already bleeding conscience. "He fooled us. All of us. He's just another Black. Another traitorous, cowardly, stinking Black."

"Potter-" Lily protested.

"Get out. We told you to leave - get out!"

Sirius faintly heard Lily arguing with James, apparently unable to understand that it was over. Done. Their friendship had not melted, as some did, but vaporized, and there was no chance of putting it back together. Ever.

He did not stay to listen. He left, walking with deliberate steps out of the common room, away from James, giving in. Neither tried to follow him - James not caring, Lily not noticing - and for that he was glad. He didn't want to be followed to where he was going.

The thin layer of frost on the grass crackled like broken glass under his bare feet as he walked out onto the grounds. It was colder out here than it had been in the common room, where the thick castle walls had insulated somewhat. The biting chill against his calloused heels was almost a comfort - it was hard to think of anything else. But at last he had reached his destination and, wielding the stick in front of him as if to ward off the memories that lurked here, he entered.

The shack had not been cleaned. Sirius didn't know that the human body could hold that much blood. It was thicker than paint when it dried, streaked in a grotesque calligraphy across walls and floor. The remains had been removed, obviously, but it didn't take much imagination to see what they must have looked like. What it must have been like, to wake up, covered in red and echoes of violence-

Sirius ran upstairs, stumbling over the uneven floorboards and mangled furniture that lay in his path, in an insane rush to get away from the blood. Anywhere at all - just away, away from the vivid reminder of his evil. He sprawled on the four-poster, panting, vision tinted crimson.

Odd that evil should be red. Sirius had always associated it with black.

It was there, breathing hard into the dusty comforter and being beautifully distracted by dust-filled coughs, that the owl found him.

x x x

A/N: I normally wouldn't post two chapters in such close sucession, but this chapter is being posted as an apology gift to my friend (She Knows Who She Is) because I was too stupid to turn my IM off before I scurried off to take a SAT practice test. I'm awfully sorry, you-know-who-you-are, and so even though this is close to one of my most morbid works, I still apologize and I hope you forgive me for my stupidity anyway.