InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "no getting out, we're trapped!"

Sirius O. Black (pad_foot) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2011-04-15 18:43:00

Entry tags:

james potter, sirius black

Who: Honest!Sirius and Older!James
What: James is older and more than a little messed up. Sirius can't lie. Cue angst.
Where: Flat #203D
When: Just after this.
Rating: TBD. Probably highish for angst and swearing.
Status: In progress.

There was a faint pop as Sirius apparated into James and Lily's front room. "Fuck," he said, intelligently. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck." He sniffed, swiping his sleeve over his nose, which was running a little and felt strangely clean and empty. He'd been running around as Padfoot when the phone had gone off - it was harder to talk yourself into a hole when you were only capable of barking or howling or whining. But then the text had come through and suddenly his heart was doing laps of the city and his stomach was squirming and his whole chest ached but that didn't matter right now because really he just needed to find James.

He found him in the kitchen. Huddled in the corner, knees pulled tight to his chest, face drawn and pale and one lense of his glasses shattered. Something yanked painfully in Sirius' chest, and he remembered the dream Ariadne had crashed. The body sprawled in the hall. He felt a bit sick.

"Prongs?" he croaked. Carefully, like a man approaching a frightened animal, Sirius moved towards his friend, squatting down before him. James was older than he had been yesterday - suddenly about Sirius' own age - but his expression was young. Sirius only felt about twelve years old himself as he reached slowly out, brushing his fingers against James' shaking wrist. Then his hand wrapped around James' arm, in a grip that felt a lot more confident and steady than he did.

"James? It's me."

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stolensnitch
2011-04-15 07:07 pm UTC (link)

James had woke up in a strangely familiar flat, although he couldn't place it just then, and it made no sense at all because a minute before that, he'd been in his house in Godric's Hollow and Voldemort had just shown up at the front door. And a couple of seconds ago, Voldemort had started saying the Killing Curse and James knew, he knew he was dead. He just hoped Lils had got Harry and herself to safety and stood in Voldemort's way, determined to give them as much time as possible.

And then he wasn't dead, he was in that flat and he had no idea what was going on and he tore through the place looking for his wife and son, which was more difficult than it sounded when you only had half your normal vision, not to mention all the various aches and pains that came from duelling without a wand. And then he'd found the strange little muggle phone, and suddenly he remembered a few things. Like Sirius. He was in this place. James spent a few minutes poking at the phone, trying to remember how it worked, and then he managed to send a message to his best friend.

Once it was sent, he slumped down in whatever corner he was in and waited for Sirius to show up. He was exhausted, all the adrenaline vanishing from his body in a rush the instant Sirius had said he was coming round, so he really wasn't aware of very much until Sirius was there and talking to him and holding his arm and he was there. So James just stared at him for a second and then pulled him into a far-too-tight hug. "I should be dead, Pads," he whispered, "why aren't I dead?"

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pad_foot
2011-04-15 08:06 pm UTC (link)

James' broken glasses were digging into his neck, his sharp nose poking Sirius in the shoulder. But it didn't really matter, and he wrapped his arms tight around James' slightly bony shoulders and held on, hands clenching in the other man's shirt. And he didn't really know what to say, but Sirius had to tell the truth today, and so the words just bubbled up. Not that it mattered, because James was probably the one person in the world Sirius could feel completely comfortable with while stuck in this permanent state of honesty.

"I don't know," he admitted, his words a little muffled by James' shoulder. "But you're not." He held on for a minute longer - Padfoot noticed somewhere in the back of Sirius' head that James smelt of dust and magic and sweat and fear - and then he finally eased himself away. Sirius shifted, moving to sit on the floor beside his friend, shoulder bumping into his clumsily as he slumped down on the cold tiled floor. "You remember this place though, yeah? James?" He touched his friends elbow, anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach. "Harry's here, remember? He's fine. Old, but fine. And Lily..." he hesitated, noticing for the first time how empty the flat was. "I don't know where she is. But I'll find out."

A slight pause, then Sirius tugged his wand from his pocket. "Give me your glasses. Are you hurt?"

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stolensnitch
2011-04-15 09:58 pm UTC (link)

James nodded at Sirius' first question, then looked round sharply when he mentioned Harry. "He... Yes. I remember. Not much. I remembered you, and... and I forgot, Sirius... I forgot the books back home, I forgot them and I... I told Lils to run. I told her, and then... Oh, Merlin..." James trailed off as he saw the flash of green in his mind's eye once more, and carefully shifted about so that he could rest his head on Sirius' shoulder.

He took off his broken glasses and handed them to his friend, oddly relaxed as the world just dissolved into blobs of colour and he didn't have to focus on anything. He didn't really want to look at anything anyway, so he just found a red spot somewhere on the opposite wall and looked at it. "I just... I tried to hold off Voldemort, without my wand. What do you think?" he asked quietly, and couldn't help but laugh at how wrong everything was. "Wandless duelling. I don't, I don't think... I, I don't... Oh, fuck..."

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pad_foot
2011-04-15 11:07 pm UTC (link)

"Your hair tickles," Sirius commented, as James' head fell onto his shoulder. He didn't even know if that was part of his honesty kick or just because he was a complete idiot. But then James was used to him being a complete idiot - the pair of them were able to have a complete conversation without saying a word, which came in useful when you'd just been caught out of hours by Filch. He took the glasses, fixing them with a silent charm before chucking them back onto James' lap.

He didn't say anything for a long moment, mainly because James' admittion made him feel really, really sick and he kind of just wanted to curl up somewhere until this was all over. But instead Sirius took a deep breath and turned to face James, running sharp dark eyes over his friend to assess the damage. He couldn't help the way his back straightened a little, or the way he inhaled sharply through his teeth.

"Fuck, Prongs..." He touched a fingertip curiously against an indigo bruise blossoming on James' temple. Then his hand curled briefly around the back of James' neck, nearly getting caught in the nightmare tangle of the other mans hair as he touched his forehead to James' for a moment. James' laugh had unsettled him, and for a moment he felt so guilty he could barely breathe, and he felt like they both needed something to ground them. Without his glasses, his friends eyes were unfocused and bright.

"S'not your fault," Sirius croaked, pulling back a fraction. "No' one remembers when they leave here. Everyone says that. You were just listening to me and my stupid plan and I just... I'm so, so sorry."

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