_withoutacause (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _withoutacause) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} the_recruitment,@ 2012-03-04 21:13:00 |
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What: Some much needed talking
When: Saturday night (technically Sunday morning) around 1
Where: Hospital wing
Rating: PG-PG 13 depending on what they talk about
Status: Incomplete
Sirius waited until the castle was completely still before slipping out of the Tower and down to the Hospital wing. He'd been avoiding it like the plague, the guilt eating him from the inside out. Lily was alive (and when he heard she was, Merlin, it was like he'd gotten ten years of his life back), but she was hurt, badly. And that was entirely Sirius' fault. He would never be able to look her in the eye again.
He didn't deserve to see her, not at all. He deserved to be rotting somewhere after what he'd done. But he'd promised Remus that wouldn't happen again, and he still had the faded looking scars on his wrists to remind him of it. No, he wouldn't take the cowards way out, but that didn't mean he expected Lily to ever want to speak to him again. Hell, he kind of hoped she'd curse him, that at least was something he could understand.
But at the same time he had to see her. He knew from James that she was doing better, that most of the damage had faded (and what kind of fucking coward did that make him, that he'd waited for the visible proof to fade before making even this pitiful attempt at checking up on her?) but he needed to see for himself. He just had to make sure she was breathing, and then maybe he could banish the picture of her lying still and cold on the ground that had been lodged in his head for the last merlin only knows how long.
He pushed the door open silently and crept to her bedside. She was asleep, hair spread around her like a burnished halo, and Sirius wanted to cry. How could he even look at her? He pressed his fists into his eyes and took a deep breath before reached out and placing his fingertips against her pulse. Strong. Present. Alive. He took another shuddering breath and turned to go, he'd already overstayed his welcome.