Azkaban sucks.
May. 2nd, 2012 11:22 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
chocolatesludge.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
hp_may_madnessTitle: Twelve Years
Characters/Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Prompt: none
Kink: none
Word Count: 458
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash.
Author's Note: He'd better get reparations from the government. Seriously.
Sirius Black suddenly realised he was screaming. As the Dementor passed his cell and floated ominously down the hallway, he felt the scream die off, the end of it catching in his throat like phlegm.
He rose from the stone bench, his legs rickety; he needed water. There was a tin cup in the opposite corner, and he stumbled to it in a half-daze. The water was warm, but suprisingly clear. The hydration cleared his head -- he must have been sitting there a long time. Maybe I've been sitting there for twelve years, he thought, and the rest of it was all in my head.
Twelve years. No visitors, other than the occasional inspection by Barty Crouch. As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise in his panicked moments, it was clear that Remus was lost.
His heart ached to think of it, to remember the first time they kissed after they'd said 'I love you' for the first time, their lips clinging to each other as if for dear life. To picture the flat where they'd lived together for two years, on every surface of which they'd shagged at least once. He belonged to Remus, with every last bit of his being... but Remus was his no longer.
In the beginning, he had begged for his beloved to be brought to him. Had screamed 'Why?' until he had no breath left, and cried himself to sleep in longing. It was useless. He knew why. Sirius had been to so many dark places in the last few months of the war, in search of the power he felt he needed. He'd become a regular in several places in Knockturn Alley and nearly got himself killed in a rendezvous with a gang of vampires -- how far of a leap was it, really?
If he ever got out of this tower, Sirius would never stop apologising for those last months. He had been a monster, and all he wanted now was to curl up in a ball and let Remus hold him until he no longer knew where one of them ended and the other began.
He sighed. It didn't matter. He would never get out. That was the nature of his supposed crime. He would rot in this living nightmare from the brain down as the Dementors drove him mad into his old age, and he would never see his darling Moony ever again. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he laid down on the broken cot, pretending he was lying with his beloved in the Shrieking Shack after a long full moon's night. He imagined Remus licking his nose. Carefully he allowed himself a smile, and his tail thumped against the cot.
...His tail?
Characters/Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Prompt: none
Kink: none
Word Count: 458
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash.
Author's Note: He'd better get reparations from the government. Seriously.
Sirius Black suddenly realised he was screaming. As the Dementor passed his cell and floated ominously down the hallway, he felt the scream die off, the end of it catching in his throat like phlegm.
He rose from the stone bench, his legs rickety; he needed water. There was a tin cup in the opposite corner, and he stumbled to it in a half-daze. The water was warm, but suprisingly clear. The hydration cleared his head -- he must have been sitting there a long time. Maybe I've been sitting there for twelve years, he thought, and the rest of it was all in my head.
Twelve years. No visitors, other than the occasional inspection by Barty Crouch. As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise in his panicked moments, it was clear that Remus was lost.
His heart ached to think of it, to remember the first time they kissed after they'd said 'I love you' for the first time, their lips clinging to each other as if for dear life. To picture the flat where they'd lived together for two years, on every surface of which they'd shagged at least once. He belonged to Remus, with every last bit of his being... but Remus was his no longer.
In the beginning, he had begged for his beloved to be brought to him. Had screamed 'Why?' until he had no breath left, and cried himself to sleep in longing. It was useless. He knew why. Sirius had been to so many dark places in the last few months of the war, in search of the power he felt he needed. He'd become a regular in several places in Knockturn Alley and nearly got himself killed in a rendezvous with a gang of vampires -- how far of a leap was it, really?
If he ever got out of this tower, Sirius would never stop apologising for those last months. He had been a monster, and all he wanted now was to curl up in a ball and let Remus hold him until he no longer knew where one of them ended and the other began.
He sighed. It didn't matter. He would never get out. That was the nature of his supposed crime. He would rot in this living nightmare from the brain down as the Dementors drove him mad into his old age, and he would never see his darling Moony ever again. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he laid down on the broken cot, pretending he was lying with his beloved in the Shrieking Shack after a long full moon's night. He imagined Remus licking his nose. Carefully he allowed himself a smile, and his tail thumped against the cot.
...His tail?
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no subject
Date: 2012-05-03 06:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-07 10:41 am (UTC)I agree with bonfoi about the convincing argument about these two :D
This was very good!! Sorry it took so long for me to read it :(