Alastor "Agent 04041953GU" Gumboil (loose_cannon) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-10-15 22:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1979-10] october, alastor gumboil, sirius black |
Who: Sirius Black and Al Gumboil
When: 15 October, 1979; mid-afternoon
Where: Godric's Hollow; Potter's place.
What: Just a chat.
Rating: PGish
Status: Completed!
Al didn't remember it being this bad last month. As he groggily pulled himself out of sleep, he was aware of how stiff and sore he was. Bandages were wrapped tightly around his left arm and hand. That was where much of the pain was centred, throbbing in his wrist and forearm. Had he tried to gnaw his hand off? Al strained to remember, but just as last month, only got flashes of feelings. And he didn't particularly want to remember those. With a low grunt of mingled pain and effort, Alastor rolled onto his side and pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed he'd been sleeping on. It seemed to sap a great deal of his energy, and as soon as he was up, he leaned against the headboard to keep from overexerting himself. Nope. He wasn't getting out of bed today. Idly, Al looked around the room he was in. Spare bedroom, obviously enough. He didn't really remember getting here. Very vaguely, he remembered Ted wrapping up his arm and telling him he was fine. He remembered... James, early this morning. And then beyond that, he might well have passed out. He sighed and ran his good hand through his hair before staring off out the window. It looked about mid-afternoon, bright, sunny... probably a bit of a sting to the air for being the middle of fall. He'd have liked to be outside, really. Instead, his thoughts simply wandered over the events of the last two and a half months. Everything that had led him here. He did far too much of that lately. He had too much time on his hands. "Good morning, sunshine!" Sirius announced, walking in rather cheerfully with a tray holding some of the remaining chocolate biscuits (it was truly amazing that there were any left after James) and a cup of coffee. Just because he was on the outs with one werewolf didn't (or shouldn't) mean he has problems with all of them. There was no point sitting around and crying over spilt milk. He thought about asking if Elle had owled or anything, but that could well be a sore point. He didn't want to interfere; who was he kidding, he loved to interfere! He just didn't think it was the right thing to do here, especially so close after the moon. "How was it? Much damage?" He could have kicked himself if he saw the logic in bringing up the other sore subject, but Sirius' logic didn't always resemble earth logic and thus, he asked. "You definitely look a little worse for wear." He had thought about asking him to stay when it was a full moon but he should probably have that conversation with Remus and conversations with Remus didn't look like something that was going to happen any time soon. Perhaps he'd ask James about it, he thought, as he set things down on the bedside table next to the bed, hopefully within reaching distance. Al slowly looked over at Sirius, a tired eyebrow raised a centimetre as he walked so cheerfully and energetically into the room. As Sirius' questions washed over him he simply blinked, likely looking vaguely owlish. It was bad. I nearly gnawed my hand off, everything hurts and I don't want to do anything but sleep. But otherwise, I'm fine, thanks for asking.Yes, I know I look like shit, you're really fucking observant. Such were the thoughts in his head as Sirius sat down. Instead, Al reached for a biscuit and idly commented, "You're chipper today." "Actually, I'm miserable, but there's no point in sitting around sulking when there's things to be done." Sirius said, in the same overly happy tone. He didn't like sitting idley. It just tended to make him feel even more miserable. He gave an understanding nod though; if he wanted to be left alone, he wouldn't begrudge him that. "If you want me to piss off, I can." There was nothing more irritating than someone in a super mood when you were in a pissed off one. He didn't want to be one of those people who never got the message. He took a biscuit for good measure; chocolate was chocolate, after all. Al very well nearly stared at Sirius for a moment, not in bewilderment, but almost simply observing. Sirius, miserable? He could hardly contain his why. And had he been like that when he was that young? He thought that perhaps he was. At nineteen, he had had a habit of running his mouth as well. But ever the optimist he'd been. Bad things happened. Welcome to life. Of course his definition of a 'bad thing' had changed a bit over the years. Perhaps it simply came with age. So after the moment passed, he gave half a shrug, deciding that they both might need the company. And if he was awake, he might as well try to be useful, even if it was just conversation for a little while. "Nope," he said finally, taking a bite of his biscuit. "Stay." Sirius sat down on the end of the bed, making himself comfortable. "Do I have something in my teeth or has Jamie written something on my forehead?" It wasn't that being looked over particularly bothered him, but he didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable because he was half dead. He tried another small smile and surveyed the damage. "I probably look better than you do. No offense." Al quirked a brow, shovelling the rest of the biscuit in his mouth before answering. "Poor comparison, mm...m..mate," he said and then trailed off in a yawn. "You've also got chocolate in your teeth and Ask me what's wrong written on your forehead." Al relaxed more against the head board, reaching back to adjust the pillow with his good hand. "So what's wrong?" "Everythings fine," came an automatic response, before he made a face in distaste. He didn't like to hide things from people as a whole so that sounded awful. "Well, no, it's not, it is what it is and it's the same problem that's cropped up at least once a month for the last two and a half years and I really doubt talking about it will fix it." He pulled out the penknife, which to his credit was incredibly clean and tried to brush chocolate off his teeth. "You talked to your lady yet?" Al once again gave Sirius a look. But he was more calculating this time, before he gave half a shrug and decided not to push the issue. He didn't want to put forth effort, and he sure as hell knew that he hated being asked over and over again when when he didn't want to talk. Whether Sirius wanted to talk or not, Al didn't know. But by offering and asking, he'd at least made himself available to listen. At the mention of his lady, Al shook his head. "About the Order? No. To be honest, I'm not sure she'd understand. She's like my parents when it comes to the vigilantes. It's in the way of true government because they don't trust it, or whatever the fuck it is they think. I suppose I used to think the same. Going against the status quo causes disturbance in people's lives and the Ministry is supposed to regulate. When people take things into their own hands, things get messy. I don't think I knew how messy and fucked up things could be anyway. Elle... she thinks she's doing the right thing, and maybe for her, she is. But I don't think she'd understand that I need this." He fell quiet, frowning down at his bandages arm without really seeing it. Because that wasn't really the only problem. There was a niggling worry in the back of his head that maybe there were other things she didn't understand either. "I meant about what's going on with you two, not the Order." Sirius clarified, knowing full well than Elle didn't care for the Order. That said, she had helped him (and in that way, them) out many a time so as long as she wasn't asking any questions, he could continue to tell her no lies. "While I understand why you don't want to tell her, I don't think you're giving her nearly enough credit. Secrets and lies destroy relationships, if not handled in the best manner. I'm not going to tell you how to have your relationship with your own girlfriend, but maybe she deserves the benefit of the doubt about whether she could understand." He put up his hands in surrender and sighed. "The only way a person ever knows how you feel is when you explain it to them." Al fell silent for a moment, frowning. No, he didn't like secrets in a relationship - it had taken vast amounts of patience during the summer when she'd been 'suspended' for feeding the media, and then ever more so when he'd caught her kissing some Death Eater. He'd been angry, he remembered. Really angry. And betrayed. And... But this was different wasn't it? Everything was different. She had left him alone and had come back before she was ready. Before they were ready. Because if he was honest with himself, he really hadn't quite forgiven her, as much as he loved her. And he was scared of pushing her away by opening up too much. Of letting her see how much he hurt. The truth was, he didn't really trust her to handle it. And so he'd been closed off. Al absently picked at the fibres of the blanket, no longer meeting Sirius' eyes. "I suppose when I know how I feel, then we can talk." Sirius couldn't deny he had a point in that. Surely by pushing and pushing, you just made things worse. Marlene had just learned that the hard way and a friendship was less complicated than a relationship, not because he believed there was less care involved, but because you could get hurt much, much more. "The easiest way of knowing how you feel is just blurting it all out. Helps immensely." He wasn't about to say no if it would help. "Most of the time, your head is too full and it just helps to let all of your squirmy thoughts out and then you know how you feel. Maybe then you can listen to what your heart is trying to tell you." That as an invitation if Al ever heard one. He was quiet again for a moment, reaching over for another biscuit and taking a bite. It was just something to do, he wasn't really hungry. In fact, he was mostly just tired and sore and he didn't want to be talking about how bad things had been screwed up between himself and Elle. But maybe Sirius was right. He'd spent so much time hiding lately.... Al finished the biscuit and sighed, slouching a bit against the headboard. "I love her," he said finally. "It was never that I didn't love her - I tried hating her to make it easier and I just fucking failed miserably at it. I don't know. It's so hard to remember what we had before and not resent everything that's happened since. Everything that was taken away and everything that changed. And for what?" There was a certain hardness to his voice, tired as it was, and laced with a poisonous hint of bitterness. "I got hurt doing my fucking job and then everything went away. She went away... and I understand why, I do. But I don't... I don't think I've forgiven her for it. I promised I wouldn't ever leave her and I meant it, and when I needed her... she was gone." Al paused, glaring down at his bandaged wrist for a moment. He couldn't even really put into words how much he hated this. Everything. What position he was in now, exactly why he was so tired and so sore. Why he was sitting in James' house instead of behind a desk at work and shooting Elle glances across the room when he thought no one else was looking. Why he wasn't having lunch with his parents this weekend... why he'd never see his brother again. All of those things and more. Sirius listened intently. It was a mess of a situation and there wasn't much he could do to help. He could voice an opinion, but sadly, those opinions rarely lead to good and happy places. He took a sigh and a moment to try and gather the words. "You need to ask yourself if you can forgive her. If, someday and somehow, you can look at her and remember but not feel this bitterness overtaking your understanding of why. If you continue to play a charade, you are both going to end up hurt. Lay all the cards on the table and see what it does, because if you don't, it will tear you apart." He took a deep breath, wanting to calm the idea that he was preaching at him. "You went through hell and you're going to keep going through it for as long as you grasp for what you had instead of accepting what you have now. I like you. I don't want you to get hurt, but if you can't accept yourself, it's going to just wind up destroying both your relationship and your life. It's a tall order, but it's all you can do." Al rubbed his eyes with the heel of his good hand, sighing heavily. This was too much right now. He couldn't keep thinking about this, at least not when he was so tired. And he did look exceptionally tired, as he processed Sirius' words. Yes, he could forgive her, of that he was positive. He loved her. But forgiving and accepting himself... well, he was less sure. He was silent for another moment before he glanced over at Sirius. "Thanks," was his single word of gratitude, although it carried a certain amount of weight. He was thanking him for everything, from the biscuits, to listening to him ramble on, and trying to help. Al sunk back down into the bed, pulling the covers up his chin. "M'going back to sleep." Sirius nodded in acceptance at the statement. He gave Al a few taps on the leg with a sigh, before standing up. "I'll leave you to it." With that, he got up and ducked out of the room, leaving the tray there in case 'sleep' was a euphemism for 'got some thinking to do'. He wouldn't be the only one wanting, either way. |