Nov. 16th, 2010 06:40 pm
Fic: Inside Out (R/S)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fox_confessorTitle: Inside Out
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
escribo (Dani)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2190
Warning: implied abuse and drinking
Summary: As he comes of age, Sirius has to redefine family and freedom
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rs_games Team Canon for the song prompt "Bird on a Wire" by Leonard Cohen. Thanks kiltsandlollies for the beta!
Sirius took the letter that Regulus held out to him and jammed it into his pocket, not bothering to read it. He didn't need to. He knew what it would say just from the weight of the paper and the wax seal that bore the imprint of his father’s ring, the Black family crest. He was surprised that his hands shook a bit, though he couldn’t say he hadn’t been expecting something like this since he’d run away.
"So, I expect this works out well for you," Sirius said, if only to have something to say to cover the ache in his chest that he also didn’t expect He stood with his hands on his hips and his stance wide, prepared for a fight--suddenly wanting one--though Regulus only stared back at him, confused.
"I don't understand."
"Only one son now. You’re no longer just the spare."
“I never wanted this. If you apologized, maybe--"
"For what? Being a disappointment? A blood traitor? I certainly won't say I’m sorry for that last."
"For being disrespectful."
"So you think I should apologize to mother for what she did to me. Those curses are unforgivable for a reason." Regulus finally flinched and looked away, and Sirius took a bit of pleasure at that, at reminding him of the things in their shared past that Regulus found easier to forgive and forget.
"Mother wasn't in her right mind then,” Regulus said, but he kept his eyes on the tips of his polished shoes. “She's better now."
"I'm sure father took care of that. I bet he couldn’t stand it when the Potters told him I wouldn’t be coming back. It had to become my fault, didn’t it?” Sirius stared at his brother, unwillingly remembering when they’d been on the same side--when they’d been best friends. Sirius was convinced that Regulus had been different then, not like now when he was so intent on being considered the perfect son and the perfect student--his uniform starched, his prefect’s badge polished, and not a thought or idea that wasn’t approved by their father. Sirius had to fight to keep from shaking him, to mess him up a little, to wake him up. “Listen, it wasn't just a small disagreement, Reg. I can't be who they want me to be."
"You could try,” Regulus said, taking a step forward and holding his hands out.
"I can't."
"You could at least make an effort. For me."
There was a plea in his voice that Sirius hadn’t heard in a long time, and for just a moment, he wanted to give in, but in the end Sirius shook his head and turned away. "Right. I'd say thanks for the letter but ..."
"I'm not supposed to talk to you anymore after this."
"You can't always do everything he tells you, Reg. You can't live your life like that."
"I can't betray him, too."
Sirius stiffened and bit the inside of his lip to keep from saying anything else. Some small part of him almost believed what Regulus had said, and the things he hadn't--that Sirius was a traitor, that he was a coward. He forced himself to think instead of James and Remus, and even little Peter--of knowing what was good and what was wrong, even when he didn't always get it right. That his friends believed in him was enough to let him walk away.
"Sirius?" Regulus called out once Sirius had reached the end of the hall, and Sirius stopped but didn't turn. "Happy birthday."
Sirius didn't answer and he tried not to think about the letter or the conversation. Both weighed heavily on him, though, and midway through the day, between James charming their texts to fly in formation during History of Magic and the Halloween feast when the house elves seemed to have gone out of their way to prepare his very favorite things, Sirius pulled out the letter and carefully broke the seal. It said what he had expected it to say, and he wasn't sure why he didn't just burn it immediately instead of folding it carefully this time and putting it back into his pocket. Still, having that confirmation--his formal dismissal from the family--was less a relief than he thought it might have been.
That night, he declared Marauders-only, and asked James to cancel the party they’d spent weeks planning. Sirius had thought he wanted adventure, to break at least twenty school rules. He'd said again and again for weeks that he wanted everyone to remember the night for years to come, but in the end, he just wanted to be alone. So the four of them spent the evening in the Shrieking Shack with the two bottles of firewhiskey that James had managed to liberate from the current D.A.D.A. teacher, Professor Vanitas, and the seven-layer cake that Peter had talked the house elves into preparing.
Sirius spent his time getting Remus drunk, which was a rare enough occurrence that Sirius put his entire energy into doing it properly--to the point that he stayed quite sober himself. By the time James had thought up a prank good enough to lure Sirius back to the castle, they all had to help Remus stand; he was far enough gone that he was only good for pointing out on the map that a professor was coming. By then, Sirius felt better enough that when they managed to get to their room without being caught, he laughed loudest. It was his birthday, Sirius reminded himself, and would be until the sun came up. He was no longer underaged; he was now a Wizard free to do whatever he wanted, and he didn’t need his father’s permission or blessing, if he ever had.
Sirius stood in the middle of their room, watching as Remus stumbled to his bed and fell onto his mattress face-first, still in his clothes, and curled around his pillow. It was late, almost too late to go to bed if they didn't want to miss classes; Sirius wouldn’t have minded that, but he knew Remus would, no matter how awful he felt in the morning.
"Bed," James declared, slapping his hand on Sirius’ shoulder and giving him a little shove toward his own.
"Gifts!" Sirius demanded and dodged James when he made a pass at wrestling them both to the ground. He sat on the end of Remus' bed, instead, pushing Remus’ legs out of his way, and extended his hands palms up to James, grinning.
"You're as bad as a three-year-old," James said, but still dug out a very poorly wrapped package from his trunk and tossed it to Sirius. “Here. For the boy who has everything.”
Remus didn't move as Sirius opened up a new dragonhide jacket from James, one he’d been admiring at Gladrags, and a bag of candy and Zonko's products from Peter. Sirius immediately put the jacket on, loving the way it shimmered even in the weak light from their candles. He left Remus alone until the other boys were winding down to get as much sleep as they could, but once James tugged his curtains closed and he could hear Peter’s soft snuffling snore, Sirius turned to look at Remus still stretched out on the bed, his eyes closed. He toed off his shoes and then carefully took off Remus’ boots, dropping them onto the floor, before he crawled up the bed and leaned over Remus.
“Moony,” he singsonged into Remus’ ear, and smiled when Remus lifted his shoulder in an attempt to shrug Sirius off. “I know you’re faking.”
“Am not.” Remus’ reply was muffled by his pillow, but then he turned a bit to curl around where Sirius sat.
“Where’s my gift?”
“You won’t like it,” Remus said, tugging on the lapel of Sirius’ new jacket. “James put a spell on that, by the way, to keep you safe when you’re riding your bike.”
“He didn’t tell me. Just like him, the daft git.” Sirius held his arm out so that he could watch the iridescent scales go from black to deep blue to purple and back to black. “I still want my gift from you.”
“It’s stupid. I didn’t have enough money to buy you something good.”
Remus was still slurring his words a bit and petting Sirius’ jacket, like he did Padfoot sometimes. Sirius smiled down at him and pushed Remus’ hair from his forehead, out of his eyes. “You didn't have to buy me anything."
"That's a relief at least. Your expectations are low."
"Are you still drunk?"
“A little.”
“More than a little.”
“’s not my fault.” Remus poked Sirius in the chest three times and then let his hand slide down Sirius’ chest to rest on his waist, looking away from him. Sirius could tell Remus was embarrassed, but he didn’t move his hand.
“Not as much as you were earlier. You’re going to hate me in the morning.”
“Never hate you.”
Sirius looked at Remus for a moment and then pushed his hand away, lying down next to him. They hadn’t lain like this in a long time, not since they were boys, and Sirius wondered when the beds had become so small. Remus was all long legs and sharp angles now--though Sirius had discovered that in the showers long ago--and pressed himself tight against Sirius’ side. He was warm and smelled sweetly of alcohol and sweat, and Sirius had to stop himself from taking advantage.
“Look,” he whispered, and twisted to dig the letter from his pocket. He smoothed it out on his chest before holding it out to Remus. “This is a letter from the great Orion Black to tell me that I'm officially cut off. Didn't even have the nerve to tell me in person. He sent it through Regulus, who told me he can't talk to me anymore, not that we ever did much of that.” Remus whispered his name, his voice full of concern, and began to sit up, but Sirius tugged him back down. “Not that I care, right? I just wanted you to know that anything you give me will be better than this.”
“I’m sorry, Sirius. I really hate your family.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Sirius crumpled the letter and tossed it toward his bed, not caring where it landed. He knew he should have destroyed it when Regulus gave it to him, but somehow he felt better knowing that Remus knew. He turned on his side, their knees bumping, so that he could see Remus’ eyes. “C’mon. It’s still my birthday. You should give me everything I want.”
Remus blushed and drew his arms up to fold them beneath his chest, unable to look up at Sirius, and Sirius felt his skin prickle when his mind caught up with his words. He wondered what Remus would do if Sirius kissed him right now, if he was sober enough that he’d even remember it in the morning. He leaned in, suddenly intent on finding out but then Remus was talking again, and Sirius lost his nerve.
“It’s past midnight, technically the first of November now.”
“Don’t be difficult. I want your present to me.”
Remus stayed still for a long time, considering, and Sirius tried to pretend that he wasn't fascinated by the way Remus twisted his lips before he turned and stretched to take from the drawer of his nightstand a small package wrapped in parchment and tied with a string. He held it out to Sirius, and Sirius took it, opening it carefully, picking apart the knot because he wanted the moment to last. Inside was what looked like an old-fashioned pocket watch, its gold case dented and worn but polished and obviously well cared for. Sirius held it in his hand and Remus pushed the latch, revealing the insides.
“It’s a stellascope,” he whispered, then smiled gently when an entire universe in miniature blossomed in Sirius' palm. “It belonged to my dad.”
“Moony--"
“I told you it wasn’t any good.”
“It’s perfect," he whispered as they watched the tiny pin pricks of light flicker. "But I can’t take this if it belonged to your dad.”
“He liked you. He liked knowing that someone was watching out for me when he couldn’t,” Remus said quietly as he closed Sirius’ fingers over the stellascope, snapping the lid shut, and brushed his thumb across Sirius’ wrist. “He taught me the constellations on it--Circinus, Lyra, Cygnus. He showed me how to find the Dog Star. Brightest in the night, yeah? He would have wanted you to have it.”
Sirius didn’t answer--couldn’t. He found he didn’t have the words. He turned his hand, instead, catching Remus’ between his own, and pulled him back into a hug, burying his face into Remus’ neck. Remus felt warm and good in his arms, like the closest thing to having a home, and this time when he moved to kiss Remus, he didn’t hesitate.
Author:
escribo (Dani)Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2190
Warning: implied abuse and drinking
Summary: As he comes of age, Sirius has to redefine family and freedom
Notes: Written for
rs_games Team Canon for the song prompt "Bird on a Wire" by Leonard Cohen. Thanks kiltsandlollies for the beta!Sirius took the letter that Regulus held out to him and jammed it into his pocket, not bothering to read it. He didn't need to. He knew what it would say just from the weight of the paper and the wax seal that bore the imprint of his father’s ring, the Black family crest. He was surprised that his hands shook a bit, though he couldn’t say he hadn’t been expecting something like this since he’d run away.
"So, I expect this works out well for you," Sirius said, if only to have something to say to cover the ache in his chest that he also didn’t expect He stood with his hands on his hips and his stance wide, prepared for a fight--suddenly wanting one--though Regulus only stared back at him, confused.
"I don't understand."
"Only one son now. You’re no longer just the spare."
“I never wanted this. If you apologized, maybe--"
"For what? Being a disappointment? A blood traitor? I certainly won't say I’m sorry for that last."
"For being disrespectful."
"So you think I should apologize to mother for what she did to me. Those curses are unforgivable for a reason." Regulus finally flinched and looked away, and Sirius took a bit of pleasure at that, at reminding him of the things in their shared past that Regulus found easier to forgive and forget.
"Mother wasn't in her right mind then,” Regulus said, but he kept his eyes on the tips of his polished shoes. “She's better now."
"I'm sure father took care of that. I bet he couldn’t stand it when the Potters told him I wouldn’t be coming back. It had to become my fault, didn’t it?” Sirius stared at his brother, unwillingly remembering when they’d been on the same side--when they’d been best friends. Sirius was convinced that Regulus had been different then, not like now when he was so intent on being considered the perfect son and the perfect student--his uniform starched, his prefect’s badge polished, and not a thought or idea that wasn’t approved by their father. Sirius had to fight to keep from shaking him, to mess him up a little, to wake him up. “Listen, it wasn't just a small disagreement, Reg. I can't be who they want me to be."
"You could try,” Regulus said, taking a step forward and holding his hands out.
"I can't."
"You could at least make an effort. For me."
There was a plea in his voice that Sirius hadn’t heard in a long time, and for just a moment, he wanted to give in, but in the end Sirius shook his head and turned away. "Right. I'd say thanks for the letter but ..."
"I'm not supposed to talk to you anymore after this."
"You can't always do everything he tells you, Reg. You can't live your life like that."
"I can't betray him, too."
Sirius stiffened and bit the inside of his lip to keep from saying anything else. Some small part of him almost believed what Regulus had said, and the things he hadn't--that Sirius was a traitor, that he was a coward. He forced himself to think instead of James and Remus, and even little Peter--of knowing what was good and what was wrong, even when he didn't always get it right. That his friends believed in him was enough to let him walk away.
"Sirius?" Regulus called out once Sirius had reached the end of the hall, and Sirius stopped but didn't turn. "Happy birthday."
Sirius didn't answer and he tried not to think about the letter or the conversation. Both weighed heavily on him, though, and midway through the day, between James charming their texts to fly in formation during History of Magic and the Halloween feast when the house elves seemed to have gone out of their way to prepare his very favorite things, Sirius pulled out the letter and carefully broke the seal. It said what he had expected it to say, and he wasn't sure why he didn't just burn it immediately instead of folding it carefully this time and putting it back into his pocket. Still, having that confirmation--his formal dismissal from the family--was less a relief than he thought it might have been.
That night, he declared Marauders-only, and asked James to cancel the party they’d spent weeks planning. Sirius had thought he wanted adventure, to break at least twenty school rules. He'd said again and again for weeks that he wanted everyone to remember the night for years to come, but in the end, he just wanted to be alone. So the four of them spent the evening in the Shrieking Shack with the two bottles of firewhiskey that James had managed to liberate from the current D.A.D.A. teacher, Professor Vanitas, and the seven-layer cake that Peter had talked the house elves into preparing.
Sirius spent his time getting Remus drunk, which was a rare enough occurrence that Sirius put his entire energy into doing it properly--to the point that he stayed quite sober himself. By the time James had thought up a prank good enough to lure Sirius back to the castle, they all had to help Remus stand; he was far enough gone that he was only good for pointing out on the map that a professor was coming. By then, Sirius felt better enough that when they managed to get to their room without being caught, he laughed loudest. It was his birthday, Sirius reminded himself, and would be until the sun came up. He was no longer underaged; he was now a Wizard free to do whatever he wanted, and he didn’t need his father’s permission or blessing, if he ever had.
Sirius stood in the middle of their room, watching as Remus stumbled to his bed and fell onto his mattress face-first, still in his clothes, and curled around his pillow. It was late, almost too late to go to bed if they didn't want to miss classes; Sirius wouldn’t have minded that, but he knew Remus would, no matter how awful he felt in the morning.
"Bed," James declared, slapping his hand on Sirius’ shoulder and giving him a little shove toward his own.
"Gifts!" Sirius demanded and dodged James when he made a pass at wrestling them both to the ground. He sat on the end of Remus' bed, instead, pushing Remus’ legs out of his way, and extended his hands palms up to James, grinning.
"You're as bad as a three-year-old," James said, but still dug out a very poorly wrapped package from his trunk and tossed it to Sirius. “Here. For the boy who has everything.”
Remus didn't move as Sirius opened up a new dragonhide jacket from James, one he’d been admiring at Gladrags, and a bag of candy and Zonko's products from Peter. Sirius immediately put the jacket on, loving the way it shimmered even in the weak light from their candles. He left Remus alone until the other boys were winding down to get as much sleep as they could, but once James tugged his curtains closed and he could hear Peter’s soft snuffling snore, Sirius turned to look at Remus still stretched out on the bed, his eyes closed. He toed off his shoes and then carefully took off Remus’ boots, dropping them onto the floor, before he crawled up the bed and leaned over Remus.
“Moony,” he singsonged into Remus’ ear, and smiled when Remus lifted his shoulder in an attempt to shrug Sirius off. “I know you’re faking.”
“Am not.” Remus’ reply was muffled by his pillow, but then he turned a bit to curl around where Sirius sat.
“Where’s my gift?”
“You won’t like it,” Remus said, tugging on the lapel of Sirius’ new jacket. “James put a spell on that, by the way, to keep you safe when you’re riding your bike.”
“He didn’t tell me. Just like him, the daft git.” Sirius held his arm out so that he could watch the iridescent scales go from black to deep blue to purple and back to black. “I still want my gift from you.”
“It’s stupid. I didn’t have enough money to buy you something good.”
Remus was still slurring his words a bit and petting Sirius’ jacket, like he did Padfoot sometimes. Sirius smiled down at him and pushed Remus’ hair from his forehead, out of his eyes. “You didn't have to buy me anything."
"That's a relief at least. Your expectations are low."
"Are you still drunk?"
“A little.”
“More than a little.”
“’s not my fault.” Remus poked Sirius in the chest three times and then let his hand slide down Sirius’ chest to rest on his waist, looking away from him. Sirius could tell Remus was embarrassed, but he didn’t move his hand.
“Not as much as you were earlier. You’re going to hate me in the morning.”
“Never hate you.”
Sirius looked at Remus for a moment and then pushed his hand away, lying down next to him. They hadn’t lain like this in a long time, not since they were boys, and Sirius wondered when the beds had become so small. Remus was all long legs and sharp angles now--though Sirius had discovered that in the showers long ago--and pressed himself tight against Sirius’ side. He was warm and smelled sweetly of alcohol and sweat, and Sirius had to stop himself from taking advantage.
“Look,” he whispered, and twisted to dig the letter from his pocket. He smoothed it out on his chest before holding it out to Remus. “This is a letter from the great Orion Black to tell me that I'm officially cut off. Didn't even have the nerve to tell me in person. He sent it through Regulus, who told me he can't talk to me anymore, not that we ever did much of that.” Remus whispered his name, his voice full of concern, and began to sit up, but Sirius tugged him back down. “Not that I care, right? I just wanted you to know that anything you give me will be better than this.”
“I’m sorry, Sirius. I really hate your family.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Sirius crumpled the letter and tossed it toward his bed, not caring where it landed. He knew he should have destroyed it when Regulus gave it to him, but somehow he felt better knowing that Remus knew. He turned on his side, their knees bumping, so that he could see Remus’ eyes. “C’mon. It’s still my birthday. You should give me everything I want.”
Remus blushed and drew his arms up to fold them beneath his chest, unable to look up at Sirius, and Sirius felt his skin prickle when his mind caught up with his words. He wondered what Remus would do if Sirius kissed him right now, if he was sober enough that he’d even remember it in the morning. He leaned in, suddenly intent on finding out but then Remus was talking again, and Sirius lost his nerve.
“It’s past midnight, technically the first of November now.”
“Don’t be difficult. I want your present to me.”
Remus stayed still for a long time, considering, and Sirius tried to pretend that he wasn't fascinated by the way Remus twisted his lips before he turned and stretched to take from the drawer of his nightstand a small package wrapped in parchment and tied with a string. He held it out to Sirius, and Sirius took it, opening it carefully, picking apart the knot because he wanted the moment to last. Inside was what looked like an old-fashioned pocket watch, its gold case dented and worn but polished and obviously well cared for. Sirius held it in his hand and Remus pushed the latch, revealing the insides.
“It’s a stellascope,” he whispered, then smiled gently when an entire universe in miniature blossomed in Sirius' palm. “It belonged to my dad.”
“Moony--"
“I told you it wasn’t any good.”
“It’s perfect," he whispered as they watched the tiny pin pricks of light flicker. "But I can’t take this if it belonged to your dad.”
“He liked you. He liked knowing that someone was watching out for me when he couldn’t,” Remus said quietly as he closed Sirius’ fingers over the stellascope, snapping the lid shut, and brushed his thumb across Sirius’ wrist. “He taught me the constellations on it--Circinus, Lyra, Cygnus. He showed me how to find the Dog Star. Brightest in the night, yeah? He would have wanted you to have it.”
Sirius didn’t answer--couldn’t. He found he didn’t have the words. He turned his hand, instead, catching Remus’ between his own, and pulled him back into a hug, burying his face into Remus’ neck. Remus felt warm and good in his arms, like the closest thing to having a home, and this time when he moved to kiss Remus, he didn’t hesitate.
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Really. The bleak emotions in the beginning, the sprawling and twinkling stellascope at the end; it's nice, the contrast, how Sirius goes from holding his erasure to the universe in his hand over the course of one day. And it vaguely reminds me of Treasure Planet. :3
But yes! Loved it so much. <3
no subject
I'd never heard of Treasure Planet. I had to wiki it :D