Chapter 7 : Thinking Nonsense
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I was convinced that I had contracted the plague. After all, that could be the only possible explanation for why Remus was avoiding me like he was.
It wasn’t because we kissed; because, we didn’t. That never happened. Don’t you think I would remember it if it did? Don’t you think I would remember the way his hand tightened around my shirt or the feeling of his heartbeat through his neck on my palm or even the heat of his breath across my lips?
No, I don’t remember a thing, therefore it never happened. Because, there is no proof that something happen unless it’s at least remembered. And if there’s no proof that something happened, who’s to say it did?
That’s how good of a friend I am. That’s how much I care, and that’s how well I know him. He didn’t have to say anything for me to understand that what happened, never happened. All he had to do was give me a look later that night when I returned to the dorms. All he had to do was glance past his hardcover for me to know that I had simply spent my day wandering around the grounds for fresh air.
Not because I needed to clear my head of those stupid demons’ screams. Not because I was keeping myself as far away from him as possible so that I didn’t lose to them again.
Just like I wasn’t practically drunk because I was trying to distract myself from staring at him nor because it worked better at dulling the pain than cutting and helped in suppressing the urge to lock myself in a bathroom. No, I was drinking because that’s what I did at Gryffindor dorm parties. I sat on the couch with James and Peter and usually Remus and drank until the four of us were plastered, then lumbered up to our dorm so that we could all endure a hangover together in the morning.
No, I was not drinking at this stupid party because of him; Him and his stupid smile when she touched his arm, batted her eyes, flicked her blonde hair.
It was times like this that I was usually extremely thankful for my character, because, he was oblivious. He didn’t know about how I ran away from home, nor did he care about the reasons for the cuts on my wrist. He didn’t ask questions about why I sometimes can’t sleep at night, and he couldn’t be bothered by worries about Regulus. He drank only for social reasons, and he most certainly did not kiss Remus, therefore went on living an oblivious life of simplicity and ease. All he knew was pranks, girls and my friends. It was a comfort to put on his face, to know that I wouldn’t have to worry as long as he was leading the way.
But, it kept getting harder and harder to hide behind him completely, because, every time Remus looked at me his eyes told the truth. My character didn’t know this look, but I did, so the more he sent in my way the more cracks he put into my mask. I was slipping up all because of a stupid look.
I’m talking nonsense.
Talking? You’re not even talking. You’re thinking nonsense.
That’s what happens when you have more than your fill of firewhiskey
What? The demons in my head start having comprehendible conversations with me?
Maybe. Or maybe you’re just going crazy.
It wouldn’t surprise me.
You do spend all your time pretending that everything is alright. You’re practically bi-polar already
The fact that I’m talking to myself probably isn’t helping that matter
Neither is the fact that you can’t decide whether you’re happy or jealous that Julia Tolken has had Remus’ attention for the whole night
Don’t remind me
You’ve only been watching them all night. How can you be reminded of something you never forgot about?
“I didn’t say anything.” James’ voice was offended, and I turned to him quickly, sitting on the couch across from me with his feet propped on the table between us. My eyes took much longer to focus on him than they should have and it troubled me.
“Sorry, thinking out loud.” I explained, and I saw him grin, a little bit too goofy. He must be teetering on the edge of drunk also.
“Didn’t like what you’re mind had to say?” he was poking fun at me, and even though I felt like smacking him for his accuracy I simply smirk.
“I never like what my mind has to say. It’s always wanting to make things logical and such.” I smirked wider when he laughed slightly, and then tipped his drink up for another mouthful. I wondered if I was looking worst than him. Hopefully not. That would be embarrassing.
“That’s a drag. Nothing fun is logical.” James frowned and laid down on his couch to look up at the ceiling lazily, not even realizing the deeper meaning of his drunken words. Only James would understand completely what I was trying to get at with that sentence. When you’re mind was trying to over think things, trying to work them out and make them make sense, that was when things stopped being fun.
Fun isn’t suppose to make sense.
But then again, sometimes I wish more things made sense to me. I wish I could figure out how to beat Peter at wizard chess, I wish I could understand why Regulus choice them over me, and most of all I wish I could know what Remus was thinking.
“Sirius looks all confused.” Lily sat down next to me and took my face in her palms, squishing together my cheeks so that my face made her laugh. I allowed it without complaint because, well, her smiling seemed to make things better for a small moment.
Her face was slightly flushed, and I assumed that it was because she had gotten into the drinks and well. I wondered if a girl like her was as easy a drunk as she looked, or perhaps if she was surprisingly good at holding her alcohol. I could see her at a party, impressing all the boys as she drank them under the table. It would be because of the Irish in her.
“I’m always confused Lily.” I remarked, smirking as I leaned the side of my skull on her forehead lightly when she put her chin on my shoulder, acknowledging that her comfort was being accepted. I felt her forehead frown, and I knew that she saw through my drunken act. And, because I was drunk I knew that there would be no attempt to avoid her prodding that would follow.
“But, you look confused about one thing in particular.” Even slightly tipsy she sounded so wise.
“Do I?” I smiled, myself behind my character finding a sick humour in the fact that I was so easily readable to her. After so many years of hiding, of acting so prefect, Lily was the only person could always see right through me. My mask was a pane of crystal clear glass to her evergreen eyes now.
She had nodded vaguely, and I simply shrugged, kissing her cheek playfully, trying to distract her. That sick humour that I had found moments before was fading away, and I realized how much I didn’t want her to ask the question that was swimming in her eyes.
I didn’t want one more person to know the truth. That truth about what didn’t happen.
She always refused to play along with me.
“Is it, about him?” She had whispered it, so quiet that I was sure only I could hear because she had said it right to my ear. The crowd of laughing and yelling Gryffindors would surely disgust that whisper from other ears. None the less, I still let out a breath that I was scared wasn’t silent enough, and involuntarily moved my eyes to where Remus stood, talking with Julia, practically their own little world. A feeling erupted in my throat, and it pulled at my stomach and made my mind spin, reminding me of why I had been arguing with myself in the first place.
This is your fault. He’s only taking your advice. If you hadn’t have pointed out how Julia was flirting none of this would have happened
Somehow the demons’ hissing voices turned to sounding similar to my own.
Lily pulled me away from myself when she put her palm on my cheek and turned my face to look at her. I watched the evergreen of her eyes turn anxious through her lashes as the small worry line show on her temple. She had managed to catch that fleeting emotion in my gaze, that confusion that she spoke of, confirming her thoughts when seeing it.
“If you keep looking at me like that your face is going to get stuck that way.” I smiled at her, begging with my gaze to let it go, and somehow, miraculously, after giving me a stern ‘only because you’re insisting’ look, she dropped her hands and stood. I sighed when she let her hand pet comfortingly over my head as she walked by me, then watched her crawl over top of James, who smiled at the sight of her and took her lips with his in an instant.
I dismissed myself soundlessly, getting up from my seat and moving towards the stairs to the dorms, feeling his eyes on me, making my blood boil and my skin tingle, but I refused to look. I just needed to get to the safety of the dorms, where I could stare at the ceiling and enjoy the numbing induced by the alcohol in private. And pray that nobody follow me. Especially him.
You’re such a coward, retreating the moment you start cracking a little bit.
They don’t want to see me like this.
You don’t want them to see you like this. Torn and broken. Pathetic. Fucked up.
Only because they would worry
They always do.
They have their own things to worry about. They don’t need to worry about me.
Maybe they do
I can deal with it myself
I exhaled in frustration. I didn’t know what voice was mine anymore. I didn’t know what voice was right anymore; or if either were right. I was being confused by my own mind; my own thoughts playing jokes with me. Or maybe, even my thoughts were prey. Maybe my thoughts were being tricked too?
My head hurt. I wasn’t making sense. Maybe I shouldn’t have drank so much. Maybe I should cut a line. Just one. It wouldn’t hurt with this much alcohol in my system. The pain would be so delayed that I wouldn’t even feel it until morning.
Wait. No. What am I thinking? Those fucking demons were getting far too good.
“Sirius.” My eyes opened, focusing on the top of my canopy bed. I sighed after a moment that I had held my breath during, relieved when realizing all was silent suddenly. How he did that I had no idea; managing to break through my thoughts, somehow always making me listen to him. Even if I didn’t want to listen.
“Had enough of her?” I asked, although the alcohol made it impossible for me to be as sarcastic or bitter as it made me feel. Instead it came out monotone, defeated. I felt defeated. I couldn’t even fight off those stupid demons by myself. I had needed Remus to come up here and banish them for me.
“She went to bed.” He explained, and I bite my tongue, laughing in my head. Wait, why was I so bitter? Was this me, or were they speaking for me now too? Had those demons managed to overthrow my mind while I was distracted by his voice?
Yes, because I was no longer my character. Not with Remus anyway. My character was what gave me strength against them, them and their yells for blood, but his eyes made that part of me dissolve into dust that was blown away when his lips touched mine. He had made the last crack that ended up shattering my shell. I was completely vulnerable now; easily breakable, easily dominated by the alcohol and the shadows in my mind.
“And you didn’t catch the hint to go with her? You really are a prude.” I chuckled to myself, keeping my eyes on the ceiling, knowing what those demons were doing now. If I looked at him he would realizing that it wasn’t me speaking, and I didn’t want him to find out. No, not now. Because if he found out he would banish the demons away and then there would be nothing left keeping me hidden. He would see every emotion and every reason for every scar, and he didn’t need that. He didn’t deserve that. He was too prefect to be tainted by me.
They were hiding me now, because he had shattered my character. They would protect me, because I was protecting their secret desire for red. They would protect this broken body because if they didn’t there would be no more blood for them.
I heard him move, his soft steps over the wood floor, the sound of his body setting itself on his mattress, three feet away. I still didn’t look. I stared intently at the ceiling.
“Why are you up here?” I allowed my mind to swim in the familiar tenor of his voice, guiltily enjoying it for it had been too long since I heard him actually speak to me. All the while the demons moved my mouth for me.
“I was feeling a little sick. Lily told me I should go lie down.” Smile lightly, make sure he knows that this small talk isn’t just small talk. Make sure he reads it in your words. Their orders were clear.
“Since when can you not hold your liquor?”
Since you downed an extra bottle of firewhiskey when you went to the washroom
Since you’ve been wanting to add another scar to your arm
Since he kissed me
“Since when are you interested in Julia?” He knew what I was doing. Or, what they were doing; trying to make him falter, get him to yell or send sharp words, break him like they had already broken me.
Let’s see if we can crack him too
Be gentle with him.
“Why are you so drunk?” They smiled, I smiled again.
“Why are you not drunk?” He would break soon. I would snap him with this stupid drunken bickering. He could never stand it when I didn’t answer his questions. He was always too curious for his own good. He would break now. Any second.
“I don’t need to be drunk.” The words surprised me. I was expecting a harsh hiss, or yell, something to show his anger, something to show that he had fallen off the edge like I had long ago. But his voice was instead sympathetic, the tone pitying me, like I was a lost cause, like he was seeing me for the first time and realizing how truly pathetic I was, and shaking his head at it.
I couldn’t take that tone. I couldn’t take the honesty behind it, the understanding that hidden in the tenor.
I turned my head to look at him, and when I met his gaze a silence in my mind greeted me. It was always so quiet looking at him. Nothing but purrs from those demons in my head. Or maybe, it wasn’t the demons at all. Maybe he banished them all together and the calmness was, me?
Unfortunately the calmness did not last. The reaction to her statement settled pasted the alcohol haze and finally hit my veins, making me feel peculiar. It was similar to anger, but, I had never felt anger towards him. So, what was it? Whatever it was, the feeling towards his statement hit a nerve, making my mouth form words faster than I could stop them.
“Fuck you.” I let it hiss through my teeth, both words completely me speaking now, and I realized that he knew this because of the small wince he made when I shot them at him, like he had been hit across the face with those words.
I forced myself up quickly, the demons back and cheering me on as I moved towards the bathroom, pushing through the tunnel vision and light-headedness that I got from the quick rise to my feet. I heard him call me but my eyes were set. Behind that door was my sanctuary. I just needed to reach that door.
I shut it, locked it and let my forehead hit the wood of it. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t hear past the thoughts or his pounding on the door. I was alone but it was still a crowded room.
That razor you hid is still there
“Sirius. Open the door.”
You want to
Just do it
I was muttering now, not even noticing when I slide down the wall to keep from fainting, or when my fingers started to clench my head a little too tight. Muttering just those words, shut up, over and over, because no matter how hard I tried the voices wouldn’t stop talking.
The stone floor was cool against my cheek, it helped a little in calming me, but I still shut my eyes tight against the tears of frustration as I laid there. I hugged my stomach against the sickening feeling, induced by the alcohol and by the disgust at my thoughts and urges. I willed my mind to shut down, to just sleep before I gave in.
I did. It seemed getting you to sleep was the only thing alcohol was good for.
I woke not long later when I felt a familiar lurch in my stomach and scrambled through the darkness of the bathroom for the toilet before ridding my stomach of the toxins. My body heaved uncomfortably, coughs following, the entire ordeal leaving me hot and lightheaded. The smell made me want to puke again, so I pulled a heavy arm up to flush.
The bile made my throat burn and left a horrible taste in my mouth, forcing me to scramble blindly for mouthwash after I had caught my breath, letting a swig of it sit on my tongue for a long minute before rinsing than taking a long drink of water straight from the sink.
I hadn’t even gotten off the floor yet. I knew my legs wouldn’t allow it. I laid on the floor again instead. My head was throbbing, but there was silence, and I smiled slightly at the fact. Relief.
Finally when I had cooled down and my head settled slightly I let myself get up slow and went to the door, unlatching it and turning the knob. It opened on me, Remus falling to the floor at my feet. He had been asleep too, leaning against that door, an inch of wood away from me.
He was shook awake by the impact with the ground, and rubbed an eye as he looked around wildly, before his gaze landed on me. There was a moment where I felt happy that he was there, felt comforted that he cared enough, loyal like the dog he was.
Then I remembered why he was there.
“Padfoot.” I hated it when he called me that. He knew he could get anything from me when using my full nickname. Because, he only used it when he was truly worried, and I was as good as butter in his palms when I knew he was worried. I tried to put on my angry face, tried to walk by him, but he lifted himself and wrapped his arms quickly around my hips. His tired hug was still stronger than my wobbly legs and forced me to use the doorframe for support.
“Please. Can we go somewhere? I want to talk to you. We need to talk.” He wasn’t looking at me, just holding my waist tightly, pulling me tighter when I had attempted to push him away.
“Moony...” I didn’t want to. Not now. Not as I remembered his gaze on her.
“Please just talk to me. Please.” I sighed and closed my eyes, hit with frustration at myself because I couldn’t refuse him, especially when I realized how serious his tone was. He was worried about me, and these words said that I would be telling him things whether I wanted to or not if we spoke tonight. I took in a breath, squeezing his shoulder when his hand fisted around a bunch of my shirt, a desperate motion that I consoled.
A/N: I realize that this chapter might have been a little confusing, so I wanted to say something that might help you comprehend it a little bit. We all know that, figuratively, we have ‘voices’ inside our head that state our ideas, thoughts, dreams, things we want to say, things were going to say, things we wish we had said ect. Well, when I use the term ‘demons’ I’m using it as the way that Sirius describes the particularly evil ‘voices’ (thoughts) in his own head. The tainted ones that are influenced by the omitting of his real personality and all the secrets he has hidden. It’s not that he’s ‘crazy’ and has other personalities/voices talking to him in his head. It’s simply his own tainted thoughts, ones that he tries to ignore but has none the less because of all the stuff he has been through. And the reason why they are so, lively, in this chapter is, because, he was drunk. Alcohol is a depressant, in other words could make some dark thoughts that you’ve been having far more predominate.
Hope that helped :)
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