A/N: I tried to do research but this chapter probably falls under the TV Medicine category. Oh, well...


München, October 26, 2018

Who's so phoney and always surrounded?
Stop your screaming, no one can hear
All the scars on your skin: "Post no bills"
Hide from the mirror, the cracks and the memories
Hide from your family, they won't know you now
For all the holes in our souls host no thrills

James didn't leave Sirius's bedside the whole night. It was terrifying to see him lying like this, electrodes on his head and chest, tubes helping him breathe and keeping him hydrated through a drop in his hand. They had changed his cut-up clothes, and the white hospital gown looked weird on him. Sirius only ever wore dark colours and would have a fit if he saw himself right now. But he looked almost peaceful as he slept, and James was happy to see some of the colour had returned to his skin. Probably just thanks to the saline drop, but James chose to see it as a good sign.

"You have to wake up, mate, you just have to…" he whispered to his friend. "You're all I have left. What am I supposed to do without you? Who's gonna play pranks on Pete with me and laugh at my terrible jokes? Who's gonna listen to me whine about the shite coffee they serve at the label, and who's gonna write fucked up shit for me to sing? I fuckin' need you, you idiot…." James squeezed his hand, but no response came. He rested his forehead against the cold iron rail of the bed and let the tears fall freely.

As the world slowly woke up outside the hospital windows, James felt like a kaleidoscope of emotions. The adrenaline was long gone, and so was the buzz from the pills and the vodka. Over the course of the night, he had gone from panic to despair to worry to gratitude, then back to despair, before feeling it all at once. But now, he was mainly feeling angry. Angry with himself for not seeing the signs, and angry with Sirius for landing them in this situation. For being a sick masochistic bastard, who would rather hide and drown his sorrows in booze and drugs than face his demons. And Lord knew he had many of those. Probably more than even James knew about—but this wasn't the way to go about it! Didn't he see how it affected James? And the whole band for that matter, all their friends, and whatever little family Sirius had left? James thought of Sirius's young, bubbly cousin, just turned fifteen and idolizing Sirius. What about being a role model for her? If he lived through this, James was going to fucking kill him!

He was ripped from his musings when the door opened and a pretty, blonde woman barged in. She took one look at Sirius lying motionless on the bed and burst into tears.

"Gwen…?" James said, instantly feeling shitty with himself. It hadn't even occurred to him to notify her.

He had no idea what to say, so he just got up to hug her.

"What happened to him, James?" She sniffed into his shoulder. "Gideon just called and said he was in the hospital, but he didn't know why, and so I hopped on the first plane over here."

James's stomach twisted. She had a right to know, but how was he going to explain it all to her?

"He, ah—he overdosed last night. Doctors put him in a coma to decrease the risk of…." He couldn't find it in himself to actually say it.

"What?!" Gwen said, pulling back from their embrace. She turned and looked at Sirius. "What the fuck was he thinking?"

James had rarely heard the girl swear, and the sound of it grated in his ears. He suddenly wanted her to leave again. She had no business talking like this when Sirius was still hovering between life and death. But then he chided himself. It was hardly different from what he had been thinking just moments ago….

Gwen walked over and took Sirius's hand, the one that wasn't attached to the drop. "How bad is it?"

"They don't know yet."

"When's he gonna wake up?" She put her hand on her hip.

"I dunno," James said, rubbing his eyes.

"But what did the doctors say?"

"Not much, they wanna do more tests, but we can't do much more than wait at this point."

"Well, that's not good enough," she said and put down Sirius's limp hand again. "I'm gonna go talk to them."

"Please don't, Gwen," James protested, fatigue almost overwhelming him. "They've already told me all they know—"

"Doctors always know more than they let on, I'm gonna—"

She was spared the trip, however, as the doctor came through the door just then.

"Hello," the man said. "You're still here?" he asked James.

"Where else would I be?" James blinked.

The doctor just smiled, then he held out his hand to Gwen. "Hello, I am Dr Meyer."

"Gwenog Jones," she said, shaking it. "I'm his fiancée. When can we expect him to wake up?"

James did a double take. Fiancée?! He opened his mouth, but before he could voice the question, the doctor answered Gwen.

"We just got his CT results back, and they look promising." He smiled at them both, and James felt his whole body sag in relief. He hadn't even realised how tense he had been.

"We can't be sure of course, so we want to keep him asleep for at least another twenty-four hours. And we are going to take him to get an MRI now," Dr Meyer continued. Then he turned to look at James. "You should go and get some sleep, young man, before we have two coma patients on our hands." He winked.

"I'm not leaving him," James said, crossing his arms.

"James, you look dead on your feet," Gwen said, squeezing his arm. "I'm here now—I'll take care of him. I'll call you if anything happens, I promise."

"No, I'm staying," James stated. This had all happened because he left Sirius alone; he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

"Very well," the doctor said. "That is your choice, but at least go get something to eat while you wait. It should take us about an hour." He left the room, greeting the porter as he passed him in the doorway.

James ended up falling asleep in the uncomfortable armchair as soon as the porter had wheeled Sirius away.

When he woke up, his neck hurt like hell, and he felt like he had a massive hangover (which he probably had). He blinked and stretched, cracking a few vertebrae in the process.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Gwen said. Sirius was back from his test, and she was sitting in a chair on the other side of his bed, reading a magazine.

"How long was I out?" James yawned and rubbed his face.

Gwen checked her watch. "Three hours I think."

"Why didn't you wake me?!"

"There hasn't been any change." She shrugged and stroked Sirius's cheek. He still looked to be sleeping peacefully. "I saved you some food, if you'd like," she added, inclining her head at the small bedside table.

James saw a bottle of juice and a sandwich and suddenly realised how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten since yesterday evening, and his stomach was letting him know its opinion on that. A jolt of annoyance shot through him when he saw she had bought orange juice and had had the audacity of placing it within two feet of Sirius's face. He was in a coma, but still…. Didn't she know him at all?

"Thanks, Gwen, you're a doll," he said, wrenching open the bottle, and gulped it all down to spare Sirius and his weird citrus phobia.

Also, he was fucking thirsty.

When he'd finished the sandwich, he sat studying Gwen for a while. She was running her fingers through Sirius's hair, a soft look on her face.

Sirius hated when people touched his hair.

"Why did you tell the doctor you were his fiancée?"

"Ah, sorry, I know we're supposed to keep it a secret, but it just slipped out," she said and shrugged.

"So it's true?"

"What do you mean?" Her eyes widened in confusion. "He didn't tell you?"

"Erm no, he must have forgotten to mention it."

"Oh. I was sure he would." Her face fell and she withdrew her hand from Sirius's hair.

"When did this happen?"

"The night before you left London."

"At Benjy's party?" James frowned. Sirius had been absolutely blasted that night.

"Yeah, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, I think," she said, giggling a little at the memory. "But he bought me a ring when you got to Paris and sent it to me. Isn't it gorgeous?" She held out her hand to James and showed him the massive rock sparkling on her finger. He thought it was, quite frankly, rather gaudy, but held his tongue. Why on earth hadn't Sirius mentioned this?

"We're planning to throw an engagement party when you finish your tour, and Sirius wanted to wait until then before telling everyone. But I didn't think he'd be able to keep it from you."

"Neither did I…" James crossed his arms and sent his sleeping friend a glare.

Caradoc came by to see them a few hours later. He pulled James out into the hallway and filled him in on the situation with The Marauders. He had cancelled the rest of their Germany gigs and was ready to pull the plug on the Scandinavia dates as well, but James insisted he wait. Maybe he was being too optimistic, but he had to believe that Sirius would be up and about again soon.

"James, even if he wakes up—"

"Don't say that."

"Sorry, I mean, when he wakes up… we have to talk about rehab." Caradoc gave him a grim look.

James rubbed his temples. Sirius was not going to like this.

"I know," he said, exhaling through his nose.

"I've made some calls, and there's a great place in California that can take him as soon as he is out of here."

"California?" James said sceptically.

Caradoc shrugged. "They're less likely to know who he is over there, and they have a great reputation for being discreet. They've treated Robert Downey Jr, Ben Affleck and—"

"Oh, yeah, that's proper discretion, innit?" James scoffed. "Look Doc, can we talk about this later? I can't deal with this while he's still…." He gestured towards Sirius's prone form on the bed, visible through the open door.

"'Course, mate, just wanted to let you know that I've got it all covered, you just have to say the word."

"I appreciate it, Doc," James said and squeezed his shoulder before entering the room again and re-taking his seat by Sirius's side.

Gwen left that night to sleep in a nearby hotel. She had tried to convince James to go as well, but he had refused. His back ached, and he badly needed a shower, but Caradoc had brought him some food and clean clothes, so he was set. The MRI results had also come back normal, and James clung to that fact like a life ring. He needed Sirius to wake up so he could yell at him. Or kiss him or punch him or whatever. His thoughts were so muddled from exhaustion and worry that he didn't know at this point.

He needed an outlet.

So, he dug out a crumpled piece of paper from the bin—some questionnaire about pain assessment, which he found oddly ironic—and stole a pen from the reception, when the nurse was looking the other way. He went back to Sirius's room, sat down on the floor (he couldn't spend a moment longer in that god-awful chair), flipped the paper over, and smoothed the wrinkles as best he could. He closed his eyes and tried to channel Sirius and his song-writing philosophy. Just let the words flow, don't think too much. Worry about melody and rhyming later, just capture the feelings before they disappear….

He set the pen to the paper and wrote.

My world's running idle, I'm not moving, the car park's still deserted, so I fetch another round and drain the bottle, cos this is the spot where I'll drop. You said to meet you here, in the car park, but you got blinded by the snow, now you can't find your way home, I rage against the heavens, scream at the heathens, fight against demons, I want my friend back, I want myself back, alone I'm nothing, don't go blindly to your death, together we can cheat him. Heart like my own, you were mine, best friend, stronger than stone, but just like a mountain can be rigged to blow, so anyone can be let astray by the snow. Strapped in together but the line gave way, I tried to stop you, but you sailed away, out to deeper waters, dragging me along, dragging me down, the current too strong. I've got smoke on my brain and there's no sign of you, but all I wanna see is you, so I pray, and I'm still waiting, in the car park, hoping you'll be coming this way

I'm waiting

I'm waiting

I'm waiting

Yes, I'm waiting, can't get you, cos your prison is your own mind, you gotta understand that you gotta walk it alone, for only you can conquer you, I gotta get away from here, the lot is still, lights are killed, I clip my wings, break my skin, you were my kin, I tried to ring, you ghosted me, it's okay now, I hope that you are okay now.

Heart like my own, you were mine, best friend, stronger than stone.

One song took another as he worked through his messy thoughts one at a time, and when he finally laid down the pen, the sun was peeping over the horizon. Completely drained, and so done with this shit, he curled into the corner and slept.


A/N: Oh boy, what do we think of Gwen? Next chapter will finally see all our heroes meeting - stay tuned!

Lyric credits:
Muse - Screenager (can you tell I love Muse?)
Shaka Loveless - Tomgang (Author's translation from Danish. Liberties taken for rhyming and flow in English)