Emotions from Azkaban Chapter 2
Title: Emotions from Azkaban- Chapter 2
Rated: R, possible NC-17 for future chapters
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst
Era: Lying Low at Lupins
Pairings: SB/RL
Summary: Sirius has been staying with Remus for about two weeks, when he does something that Remus did not expect.
Warnings: RS Slash, slight violence, angst, depression, themes of self mutilation.
An hour went by. Sirius remained at the table, mind and body numb. He had taken a sip of the then warm tea, but the warmth flew into his body, enabling his feelings, his emotions. Since then, the tea stood untouched, and now cold. His arms were stinging uncomfortably and his face and neck were wet. He didn’t care to remember why.
Remus decided he wasn’t being fair. Sirius needed his chance to explain, to talk, and Remus knew that wouldn’t come without some prompting. Remus stood from the toilet slowly, dreading Sirius’s future reactions. Remus was used to Sirius’s brash anger, his hateful, but meaningless words. However, he was not used to seeing Sirius broken.
Remus opened the door, walking towards the table where Sirius sat. His head was still hung low, and the tea was now pushed away. “Sirius…” he prompted gently, trying to encourage Sirius to look at him. Sirius didn’t flinch. “I’m sorry I reacted that way, Sirius. I should have given you a chance.” Remus set his hand on Sirius’s shoulder.
Sirius’s back stiffened. ‘At least he reacted,’ Remus thought. Unfortunately, Remus’s simple gesture had caused Sirius to feel. His numbness had faded, and he remembered why his arms stung, why his face was wet- he remembered that Remus had hit him. His fists clenched, anger overwhelming him.
“Fuck off.” Sirius growled, shrugging Remus’s hand off of his shoulder. “You don’t understand, shit.”
“Why don’t you try and make me understand?” Remus said gently. He removed his hand from Sirius’s shoulder, not wanting to anger him more. He decided instead to sit down next to him.
Sirius ignored him, choosing to sip his cold tea. He stifled a grimace, and set the tea down on the table. Remus reached into his pocket for his wand and cast a warming charm on Sirius’s cup.
“Could have done it myself,” Sirius grumbled.
“I know, but you wouldn’t have,” Remus responded gently. He didn’t want to anger him, nor patronize him. He was aiming for somewhere in the middle. Somewhere that would make Sirius open up to him, make him talk.
Sirius didn’t sip his tea again. Remus assumed it was spite now- Sirius had the right to be mad at him, but Remus didn’t think he was. He was more likely to be ashamed- not only did Remus find out one of Sirius’s largest secrets, he had also seen him crying for the first time in the entire friendship. Remus had never seen Sirius cry before, not when his mother kicked him out, and he assumed he never cried when James died. Remus had heard the stories about his maniacal laughter.
“In Azkaban,” Sirius whispered, breaking Remus of his thought.
“What?” Remus responded, confused.
“It started in Azkaban,” Sirius said, his tone a bitter whisper. He gestured to his arm. “Horrible things happen to a man when he is trapped in her worst memories for twelve years”. Sirius let out a sound, caught somewhere between a bitter laugh and a half-sob.
“You’re not in Azkaban anymore, Sirius,” Remus said gently. He longed to reach out and hug Sirius, stroke his hair, let him express his emotions while surrounded in the comfort and safety of his arms. Remus also knew that would never happen. Sirius’s pride would never let it.
Unexpectedly, Sirius sprang up from the table, his chair falling over in the wake. He was about to rush back into the bathroom, lock himself away from Remus’s advice again, but Remus wasn’t going to have it. He grabbed Sirius roughly by the arm.
“Sirius, we’re going to talk about this,” Remus said, gently, but still firm.
“I’m not in the mood, Remus,” Sirius snapped back, yanking his arm away. Remus held on, his lycanthropy providing assistance for the second time that night.
“Let’s sit on the couch,” Remus stated, his tone light, even though his grip on Sirius’s arm did not cease. It was obvious that this was not a suggestion. Sirius let Remus lead him to the couch, both of them sitting down. Remus gently let go of Sirius’s arm.
Sirius’s fists were clenched again, but Remus knew he could handle this. After all, Sirius being angry was nothing new. Remus touched Sirius’s face, pulling him so their eyes met. He knew this was probably a bad idea, something that would just make Sirius angrier, but he was willing to take the risk. This, surprisingly, was not the effect. Sirius’s chest heaved, a sigh was withdrawn and his shoulders hunched forward. Remus’s hand lingered on Sirius’s face, feeling more tears trickle a path from his eyes to his chin, and then watching as they made their final descent onto the abused couch cushions.
“I’m trapped, Moony,” Sirius heaved, his head falling so his chin touched his chest. Remus removed his hand. “I was trapped in Azkaban, twelve years. Not just in the walls, inside myself. Twelve years of nothing but the worst things that had ever happened to me. Twelve years of knowing James and Lily were dead. Twelve years waiting for the news that Peter killed Harry. Twelve years knowing you hated me…” Sirius stopped, a small sob escaped him, despite the fact that his tears were stopping.
“You’re free now. I know you’re innocent, and Harry is safe. Everything is okay, now.” Remus said soothingly, knowing quite well that nothing was okay. Voldemort was back, Peter still alive, and Sirius was living in constant fear of recapture.
“I’m not free, Remus. If I was free, Harry would be with me. I wouldn’t be living in your tiny house, trying to figure out how to make things out. I wouldn’t be afraid that one wrong move would make me wind up in Azkaban. If I was free, I could do something for the Order. I’m not free, Remus! I’m trapped all over again!” Sirius had stopped crying, but now, his voice verged on screaming.
He stood up, body shaking. Remus reached out a hand, gently laying it on Sirius’s stiffened arm. Sirius turned to look at him, eyes suddenly softening. He collapsed back down on the couch. Some of the playful glint returned to Sirius’s eyes. He let a small smile grace his hollow face, and playfully punched Remus’s arm. “But, hey,” he said softly, a hoarse whisper. “At least I have my Moony.”
Remus was baffled. He just witnessed Sirius transform from broken and crying to enraged, and now he was seventeen again. Remus allowed himself a small smile and looked in Sirius’s eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “And I have my Padfoot back.”
Remus wasn’t sure which one of them had moved first, but all he knew was that their lips had met somewhere in the middle.