Work Text:
The sound of the zipper closing the light backpack he threw a few things into seemed to echo throughout Sirius’s brain for what felt like an eternity.
It was like the zipper was the shiny reflecting ribbon of the finish line that screamed “you’re here! You made it! You’re almost done!” and the big, oak, black door sitting at the bottom of the staircase was the actual crossing point. Once he crossed it that was it. It would be over.
It would be over. All of it. No going back.
He was supposed to be moving fast- and he was- but once he closed the zipper he just stood there, unable to get himself to move, with the strap of the bag clutched in one hand.
It felt like his entire body was on fire. Screeching and pleading and crying for him to just go for the love of everything, just go now please you need to!!!! Go go go!! And he knew that. Fuck, he felt it but…
But Regulus was down the hall and Sirius has about five minutes maximum and currently counting down, he knows, because when you grew up in a house like his with a mother like her- you don’t tend to be too off with those kinds of calculations.
He needs to go. Now.
Go go go
It was with that thought that he snapped back into himself. Despite the multiple injuries he was currently sporting all over his body, he was moving quicker than he ever had.
Go go go
And he was creeping out his bedroom door
Go go no
Nonononononononononono
Not yet
And he was speeding, as quietly as possible, into Regulus’ room.
Little Regulus. His little brother. His baby brother. Eleven and far too wise. Sleepy and confused, rubbing one eye with a fist and half sitting up as Sirius all but flew over to his bed.
“Siri-oof”
He quickly wound his bloodied and shaking arms around him and gathered up as much of the eleven year old as he could in his lap, tucking his head under his chin and keeping a hand on the back of his head, like he always did. He always did because it felt like he was protecting him more somehow, but right now knowing that he is leaving him, it feels like the most useless thing he’s ever done.
“I love you,” Sirius whispered urgently into the top of his little brothers head. And he hated how he physically couldn’t keep the anxiety, fear, and dread out of his voice and body.
“What’s going on? Why are you bleeding?” Regulus shifted to look up from his spot nestled into Sirius’ chest staring up at him with big, green, concerned, and analyzing eyes.
Always so perceptive, he thought. But he shouldn’t have to be.
And, yeah. Yeah.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry Reg. It’s time for me to leave. I’m going somewhere safe and where it’ll be better for everyone- yeah? I’ll see you at school. I promise. I love you. I’m sorry.”
God, fuck, how it hurt. It hurt everywhere. Not what his mother did to him, but what he has to do to regulus. Leave. He can feel the hurt in his fragmented heart, in his veins, muscles, bones, soul, brain. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it’s sickening it’s nauseating it couldn’t be real it hurt
And if his so called “mother” didn’t kill him that night, then it would be when Sirius had to let Regulus go in that moment. He was sure of it.
For the first time that night, even when being beaten and tortured for Merlin knows how long, the tears came. It was like as he shut the door to his baby brothers bedroom- his baby’s room- he just couldn’t take it. The illegal curses are nothing to him when he has to leave Regulus.
So, turning from the door with a confused and worried eleven year old behind it, he turns and bolts straight for the door. The point of no return.
Distantly, he heard the shrill scream of his name from no one other than his mother, and is sure he hears a few curses being shouted, but he’s leaving. He’s leaving. He’s leaving and he’s leaving Regulus, so what does he care about curses being thrown his way? What does he care that those curses are unforgivables? He already experienced the most devastatingly, gut wrenching pain he ever possibly could have when he let that boy go.
When he finally crossed that point of no return he was drowning in his own tears for his baby brother that was still on the other side.
———
He doesn’t remember how or when he got to James’. He thinks he must’ve apparated, but doesn’t really think too much about it right now. All he knows is that he’s in so much pain and he’s at James’s.
It only takes three heavy bangs on the front door for it to swing open, revealing his best friend with even wilder hair than usual and glasses that were clearly carelessly shoved on his face. It makes Sirius realize if James was sleeping it was definitely after at least one in the morning- but the thought feels far away in his head. Which, delirious with pain, he thinks is a little funny, but finds he can’t even muster up enough energy to laugh or smile or say anything.
“Sir- wha- I-“
James didn’t need to finish any of the sentences he was attempting to speak (which, when Sirius looks back, thinks is fair considering the right state he showed up in) because Sirius, upon seeing James, seeing safety, completely collapsed and fell into unconsciousness.
He woke to a soft, warm voice and a large, warm hand raking gently through his hair. He tried to shift and open his eyes but it felt like he was waking up in slow motion. Everything was obscenely blurry and it felt like he was under water. As he slowly started to stir and blink his eyes open he felt another large warm hand come to one side of his face and felt the hand that was running through his hair stop to come to the other side of his face. This, he was not a fan of. He was very much enjoying the hand that was going through his hair- it was soothing. Grounding. He let out a little noise of displeasure in the back of his throat at this, and he heard a muffled chuckle as he felt the bed dip.
It was hard to think, like his brain was foggy and sluggish- which was why he was trying to figure out what was going on, who this person was, and why he felt a need that felt routed into his soul for him.
He was still talking to Sirius softly. That grounded him too. Soon enough the soft talking went from murmuring to becoming more clearer and clearer. He realized he’d been drifting on the line of dreaming and being awake for a while when, suddenly, everyone came crashing back down on him full force. His eyes flew open and with a sharp gasp he shot bolt upright in what he’s now realizing is in one of the Potters guest rooms beds.
“Woah, woah, you’re alright, baby you’re safe, breathe,” came Remus’ soft voice from beside him.
It took a second for his brain to process what was happening and then, Remus’ voice. Remus. Moony.
“Moons,” Sirius whispered so quietly he wasn’t entirely sure he even said it out loud.
Remus gave him a small smile, “yeah, I’m here-“ and Sirius was reaching for him. Remus was reaching for him as soon as Sirius did and gently pulled him onto his lap as he shifted back towards and against the pillows. “Moons,” Sirius whispered again, though not because he was trying to say something specific. They both knew what he meant. It was a “you’re here, I so badly need you” plea.
“I know pads, I know. Can you breathe for me?” He whispered.
It was only then did Sirius realize he was hyperventilating.
He let out a pained wine but nodded nonetheless and shifted to be closer and more tucked into Remus, which Remus- a mind reader for Sirius as always- had already started shifting him to do just that as he had the thought.
With his head tucked into the crook of Remus’ neck and Remus’ strong arms and warm body he immediately felt better- fuck he could cry he needed him so badly and he’s here.
“It’s alright. I’ve got you” Remus said softly as he tightened his hold around Sirius, once again knowing exactly what Sirius needed but couldn’t voice in the moment.
“I got you, it’s okay” Remus said again
And Sirius breathed.
And Sirius believed him.