A hook of agony yanked him back to life.
His cold body had imprints of warm fingers all over it. Light was burning him, but it was artificial. Claps of thunder were still mocking the sky, but he was hidden away now.
No inch of his body wasn't drenched in his life essence, disgusting stickiness that engulfed him completely and fed the wide-eyed monster inside of him, that held the image of a face filled with horror imprinted in its eyes.
He coughed, spewing out more of it, and he exploded with such agony that it almost stopped his desperate heart.
Everything was shaking, the Earth, the galaxy, the constellations painted in the sobbing sky. He couldn't catch a cruel clutch of breath, which was tickling his lips and dancing away before he could grab it. The dam behind his eyes had cracked again, and water was trickling out, bitter and regretful.
His lids snapped up and he was staring with huge, terrified eyes as someone sobbed over his half-dead body, begging him to wake up.
And then, he slowly faded away, the dull light in his imploding eyes slowly draining away until it was there no more.
The next instance he was yanked back into reality was from a gentle touch.
The pain inside of him was still thrashing, but something had sedated it slightly.
He focused on his physical body and realised he was heaving, coughing and spitting. it was all warm and a thick consistency.
The intake of air he'd managed to seize had escaped once again.
The more the warmth infiltrated his body, the more tendrils of torturous memory wound its way around his brain; cold hands, splitting, running, bleeding, dying...
But two grips rendered him calm enough to remain in the realm of the living, if only for a moment. A trembling, terrified clutch on one wrist. And a gentle, loving touch on the other.
Pinning him down as flashes of red haunted his closed lids, but pumping the will to stay patient around his dying arteries.
He waited for what could have been centuries before the monster subsided, releasing its hold on every muscle in his body.
But the act of relaxing threw him back into the churning chaos of his deadened mind.
Was breathing the right thing to do?
Clashes of angry demons exploded in his throbbing skull, battling each other to make the decision, and he instantly regretted asking.
Instead he opened the silvery orbs of his eyes, squinting against the harsh light which appeared to instantly disappear at the sight of his discomfort.
A single candle burned above him, casting an ominous glow across his conscience. He realised he was allowing breath to enter his aching chest, and quickly ignored that fact.
He must have delved back into the abyss of nightmares, because he was screaming when he jerked awake.
Not an inch of his entire body didn't have an agonising ache buried inside of it, but it was so different from the raw pain that had been rampaging through his insides that it felt like Heaven.
He once again opened his eyes, but this time, he could focus on things again. They weren't as blurry as before.
He struggled to escape from the vulnerable position he found himself settled in, and was prevented from moving, much to his horror.
He tensed, expecting screeches and flashes, and yet more excruciation, but instead, two sets of warm hands gently leant him upwards.
Flashes of pain lit his eyes up with more strength than a thousand lightning flashes, but relief quenched the burn to a mere sizzle.
His vision was fuzzy, but he could make out two figures in front of him.
Concentrating made for hazy clarity, and he recognised James Potter and Remus Lupin knelt in front of him, and the realisation that for the first time in four weeks, he was under absolutely no threat, released the chokehold that raw fear had had on his voice.
"What happened?" he murmured hoarsely.
"You showed up here bleeding everywhere. Not an inch of you wasn't all slashed up. There was so much blood it stained everything. Everything was red. And you kept waking up, having fits, like seizures, and passing out again. It's been happening for two days straight. The Healers couldn't keep up with the rate you were losing blood! They had no clue how to stop the bleeding, they said you'd be insane, that you were under the Cruciatus for eight entire minutes. It was your mum, Sirius."
James' voice was borderline hysterical, his eyes beginning to swim with tears. He cleared his throat and turned away, trying to regain some of his composure.
"I've never been more scared in my entire life." came a muffled half-sob, and Sirius watched as James Potter broke in front of him.
Remus patted him on the back, but got shrugged off, so he turned back to Sirius, his eyes huge and uncertain.
"You're never going back there, Sirius. I love you way too much to ever see this happen to you again."
Remus' voice was fading as Sirius' eyes glazed over, the last words slipping from his lips as he descended into unconsciousness being a slurred "I love you too."
He kept eye contact with Remus right up until the darkness grabbed him.
A/N: So I was ridiculously overtired when I wrote this, no clue if it's any good or if there are mistakes or if it's garbage but please, any feedback would be greatly appreciated