Note: Minor edit on the ending of Chapter 6. Nothing too big but it kind of foreshadows this chapter a tad bit. Oh and also, Warning: Alcohol Abuse.

Chapter 7

My mind is running empty

In this search for someone else

Who doesn't look right through me

It's all just static in my head

~ Astronaut - Simple Plan

Saturday evening found me sitting in my darkened bedroom, staring at my hands. My sweaty, shaking hands.

I really should have known better. I mean, it's not like it hasn't ever happened before; brief bouts of normalcy luring me into a false sense of security. It never lasts though. No, nothing ever lasts for me and sadly, I wasn't even exaggerating. So why did I, for one moment, think this time would be any different? What had I thought, exactly? That my life would miraculously become alright just because something 'eventful' had happened? I almost snorted at that. I wouldn't exactly be surprised if all of it - if He - weren't a figment of my imagination. Because at this point, he very well could be.

Thoughts, so many of them, swirled within my head, threatening to break through the walls. Getting my mind to shut up had always been my biggest problem - and even more of one than usual during moments like these. I wanted to stop right away, instead of delving into the thoughts but I couldn't. I never could. Not on my own atleast. The palpitations were starting to come on now and I knew that I had neither the luxury of other options nor any time to spare.

I got up and hurried over to the kitchen and started rummaging through the highest cabinet frantically until I found what I was looking for. The bottle of Bell's was still half full from the last time, two weeks ago. Just fourteen days. The twelfth of August to be precise.

Clutching the bottle to my chest, I padded back to my room and sank down to the floor. As I eyed the bottle, I thought about how much I didn't want to do this, how much I wished I didn't have to, how much I wished I didn't feel so damn alone. But I did have to do it unless I fancied ending up in a hospital or a mental ward the next morning. And I was alone but only because I chose to be - no one should have to put up with my sob story just because I was too broken to fix myself up.

The longer I sat there wallowing in self-pity, the more the panic began to bubble up inside me. I knew I couldn't possibly hold it off any longer if I wanted to skip the worst of it. So I raised the bottle to my lips and took a big gulp.

It burned as it travelled down my throat. I wasn't a big fan of the taste; especially not when it was undiluted and had a high volume. It was the burn and the blissful state of haze that I craved. And blissful it was, for all of those thousand and one-hundred thoughts in my head slowly vanished one by one as the bottle emptied. My lips quirked into a smile of its own accord as the world became less complex again. This was why I drank. It was unhealthy - both physically and mentally. But it was so worth getting completely pissed in exchange for not having to experience everything that goes through my deranged mind everytime one of these episodes came on.

Once I'd swallowed the last bit of whisky, I set the bottle down and relaxed into a more comfortable position. I wasn't quite drunk up to the point where I was dizzy or nauseous - four years of resorting to alcoholism had taught me to hold my drink atleast. I knew that I'd probably feel like shit come morning coupled with the guilt. And I'd probably remember every little thing too. But for now, well, whoever said 'Ignorance is bliss' wasn't kidding about.

A knock on the door startled me out of my slumped position. The digital clock said it was half 10. I briefly wondered who it might be before deciding that whoever it was can bugger off. They didn't, however. The knocking continued. I slowly felt my hand up to the table beside me and turned on the stereo. Music blared from the speakers, drowning out all other noises.

Perfect. A pity part with booze AND music.

I closed my eyes and sang along softly to the beat. It was a slow rock song - one of my favourites. I was halfway through when I sensed movement close by.

"Reyna?" a voice called out softly. The night lamp flickered to life and I opened my eyes only to find the very last person I'd think of, crouching beside me.

Had I started hallucinating or had he actually been real all along?

"Are you drunk?" he asked louder when I remained silent. Something flashed in his eyes just for an instant as he looked at me before it disappeared quickly. I probably looked a right mess. My hair was tangled and I was dressed only in a really old, really big T-shirt that went up till my knees. It was so loose that a sleeve even hung off of my shoulder on one side. Normally, I would have felt self conscious about looking so pathetic, but I was too knackered to give a toss. I could only hope that the 'loon' look didn't give away too much about my mental health.

"You're real then?" I enquired from my half-slumped position.

His brows furrowed and I could see the muscles in his jaw clench.

"Ofcourse I am. Now, why are you pissed out of your mind?"

I shrugged, and pulled my self up into a sitting position.

"No reason."

"No offense love, but I don't think you're the type to- " He paused as he picked up the empty bottle lying by my side. "...a full bottle of Scotch whisky-"

"Half bottle. Not full. I already drank half the last time," I interjected.

"Fine then," he said before continuing his earlier sentence. "A half bottle of Scotch whisky for 'no reason' ."

I shrugged.

"It's true though."

He ignored me, still examining the empty whisky bottle. "And what the hell were you thinking anyway? This thing isn't exactly mild. What are you doing, Reyna?"

I'd never thought I'd see the day when I was lectured on responsibility by Sirius Black of all people...

"First of all, I am not drunk. Not really. Secondly, I know how to hold my alcohol. Thirdly, I told you, it was nothing! People get drunk all the time for fun. It's Saturday night for god's sake!" I said in a huff. "Are you telling me you've never got yourself pissed before?"

"Ofcourse I have. But this is a different matter! Have you taken a good look at yourself?" He shook his head almost disappointedly. "I thought you were too sensible to get yourself into something like this."

"Oh, so I'm too sensible to drink now, am I? And we all know sensible people NEVER drink," I retorted, my temper rising. "How would you even know that anyway? We've barely known each other for two weeks! For all you know, you could be wrong."

This time, he was the one shouting.

"That's utter bollocks and you know it! You are completely battered. You're sitting alone in the dark, drunk out of your mind and you're a complete mess! You're not fooling me here, love. There's something obviously wrong with you." He paused and his tone softened slightly. "I don't need more than two weeks to tell that."

Not wanting to answer, I looked away from him and instead, picked at a hole in my T-shirt. Why, oh why, was his timing so impeccable? How did he get in, anyway? Did he pick the lock or something? I wouldn't be surprised if he knew how considering his backstory. And what's he playing at, lecturing me about 'drinking when I'm not supposed to' ? Stupid sodding 'do-over' thing probably fucked with his brain and made him forget all he's done. Atleast one thing got cleared up: he was very much real if he could pick up bottles and yell like that. Right?

Suddenly, I felt two hands grip my shoulders, interrupting my inner musings. My eyes shot up to the hand - which looked alarmingly large for some reason - on my left shoulder. It felt almost too hot on my skin. Maybe he was onto something about me being drunk. My gaze travelled up his arm and met his determined stare.

He wasn't going to let this go. Shit.

I felt a slight edge of growing panic as I imagined telling him the real reason behind my binge drinking. It was enough to shake me out of my drunken stupor. The thousand and one hundred thoughts were back, swirling beneath the thin haze of the alcohol in my system.

"I-I can't. I can't tell you why." I got out with much difficulty as I tried to quench the panic.

"Why not?"

"I just can't, Sirius!" I replied vehemently shaking my head.

"You can trust me you know. You know my secrets after all."

"No, no! It's not that I don't trust you. I just-I can't. Not now atleast," Not now, when everything would come rushing back if I tried to talk about it. "Please," I took a deep breath before continuing. "I-I promise I'll tell you tomorrow. But just, not right now. Don't make me talk about it now. I can't do it! " Tears started falling from my eyes as my voice turned more and more hysterical with each word.

In an instant, his long arms had enveloped me.

"Shh, it's okay. It's okay, I won't ask. You can tell me whenever you want to, alright? Just calm down. It's fine," Sirius spoke in a quiet voice as he stroked my hair.

Though my heart hadn't stopped racing, the panic slowly began to subside bit by bit as I rested my head on his chest. It made me feel odd and tingly. Years had passed since someone had embraced me that way - with so much warmth. The last time was when I'd been a kid. After that, apart from fleeting hugs from family and a few friends, I tried not to maintain much physical contact with anyone.

Now as I sat there with a guy I had barely known for two weeks, I didn't really want to pull away despite having stayed that way longer than I'd usually permit with anyone. Maybe it was due to my fragile state of mind. Or maybe it was just that I needed some comfort today. Whatever the reason, I appreciated the gesture and the reassurances he was giving me. I felt like I was 10 again, sharing a hug with my mother - back before she stopped hugging me unless necessary, to avoid acknowledging the distance between us. It made me want to wrap my arms around him and return the embrace, but my arms were pinned to my sides by his own. The situation was only made more surreal by the fact that he was shortly going to find out my 'secret'. I had never intended for someone to get under my skin this easily.

That thought jarred me out of my position, making me pull back abruptly. I watched Sirius' face intently as he scanned mine, presumably to make sure I wasn't going to start crying again. Deciding that a change of subject was definitely in order, I smiled, patting the space on my right.

"Sit."

He obediently shifted to lean on the wall beside me and stretched out his long legs before him. The action briefly made me wonder if this scene would've panned out any differently had he been in dog form.

"So," I began, "How did you get inside my house?"

A small smile appeared on his face.

"I knew you'd ask that first. It was easy, really. Ofcourse, it isn't much of a trouble when the door is unlocked."

I frowned.

"It wasn't locked?" I tried to think back to when I had come back from work.

"No," he replied. "Speaking of, you really should learn to lock up, love. What if I'd been a thief, rapist or...or a kidnapper? Or..." Sirius suddenly stopped his semi-serious rant, his eyes glinting with amusement. "What if I had been an escaped convict?"

"The convict part is correct atleast." I commented, absently playing with carpet. "You started the third book then?"

"Nah. I was waiting for the weekend to start. So that I could bother you if I had any questions," he answered.

I rolled my eyes at that.

"You already bother me on weekdays anyway. No need to pretend to be considerate."

"I'll have you know, I can be a very considerate bloke when I want to be."

"Really? Either I've missed it or you must not want it very much," I noted.

"You wound me, Reyna. And after all I've done for you..." He pouted, shaking his head at me in mock-dismay.

Elbowing him, I said, " You're such a child. How old are you, twelve?"

"It's twenty, for your information," he stated indignantly.

Twenty. He went to Azkaban when he was just a year older...

I tried to rid myself of the morbid thoughts. Not wanting to spoil his mood, I decided that I'd spare him a few days and tell him another time. Instead, in an attempt to continue our lighthearted banter, I snorted.

"Doesn't seem that way to me. You act very much like a twelve year old boy."

A very unnerving smirk suddenly appeared on Sirius' face.

"Most girls I know wouldn't say that about me. You know why?" When I didn't say anything, he continued. "Because, no twelve year old boy would be able to do the things I'm capable of." He leaned closer to me until his lips brushed my ear when he spoke. "Want to find out?" he whispered.

With a sigh , I reached a hand up and rested it at the back of his neck. Which I proceeded to promptly shove as far away from me as possible.

"Sorry, I'm not really interested," I stated casually.

Rubbing his neck, Sirius shot me a wary look.

"I think you gave me a crick in the neck."

"Good for you. That's what you get for boasting and invading my personal space."

"Ah, but you know you still love me anyway," he answered with a wink.

I rolled my eyes in response.

There was a moment of silence as Sirius inspected his neck for nonexistent cricks. Just then, a thought occurred to me.

"Hey, how come you were at my flat in the first place?"

He frowned.

"You don't remember? You were supposed to meet me at 8."

Realisation dawned on me as I clapped a hand to my forehead.

"Shit! I am so sorry! I have no idea how I forgot..."

"That's okay. You had a lot on your plate," Sirius said, waving it off. "So anyway, when you didn't turn up by 9, I decided to come here and check up on you."

"You could've just called. Would've saved you a lot of trouble."

He shrugged after contemplating that for a moment.

"Guess it didn't occur to me. It ended up being a good thing mind you, so I guess it's alright."

I nodded absent-mindedly.

We talked about nothing in particular for awhile. But after an hour, my alcohol intake finally caught up with me, causing me to nod off in the middle of conversation. It didn't escape Sirius' notice either for he turned to me, his expression one of amusement.

"C'mon. I need to make sure you get to bed or you might bite my head off in the morning. God knows how you are about your beauty sleep."

My eyes had already slid shut by then and I mostly felt rather than saw what happened. I felt him reach around me to push all my hair over to one side before hoisting me up to my feet. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he half dragged, half carried me over to my bed. The last thing I remembered was Sirius tucking me in and a hollow feeling in my chest through the drowsiness.

AN: Hey! This is a reupdated chapter because it was deleted by accident.

The disorder mentioned was inserted to bring a bit more depth to the story and Reyna's character, explain a bit more of her backstory and add some tension, conflict and all that jazz. I'm not going to end up trivializing or exaggerating it.

Thanks a million to THBxS, LlamaPug, horseluvr888, demoncutie257 and A Nolita Fairytale for your favourites/follows. Thanks for your continued support and reviews GabbiGrl!. I am so happy with the 1500+ reads this story's got and the only thing that would make me happier and motivate me to write more, are reviews. Compare: 1500+ reads and only 8 reviews! I know you people are actually reading this but I really want to see some reviews, atleast simple small ones, so please please review. Even anon reviews are cool with me.

Now that I'm done begging, on a side note of shameless self-promotion, I've started a story for the PJO fandom and if any of you are PJO fans, please check it out at /s/10397866/The-Demigod-Discussions

I now actually have an idea where this story is going so I expect to hopefully speed up updates. So, till next time!

~Bekah.