rarepair_shorts | Fic: "Out of the Shadows" Sirius/Kingsley

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Sirius/Kingsley – “Out of the Shadows” – Sirius must find his way out of the-Azkaban-of-his-mind with Kingsley’s help

Title: Out of the Shadows
Author: red_day_dawning
Character pairing: Sirius/Kingsley
Prompt: “Out of the shadows”
Word count: ~1,300
Rating: R
Warning/s: dark themes; implied rape/assault
Summary: Kingsley wants to help Sirius find his way out of Azkaban-of-his-mind
Author’s notes: written for rarepair_shorts, follows on from Azkaban http://community.livejournal.com/rarepair_shorts/37834.html?#cutid1
Link to prompt table: http://red-day-dawning.livejournal.com/18707.html

What has occurred earlier: During some BDSM play with Kingsley, Sirius is involuntarily reminded of Azkaban. The memory of the prison is so powerful that Sirius, with his fragile grasp on sanity, has been plunged into a scene from Azkaban & is essentially stuck there in a fugue-state. Regardless of his actual physical location, from Sirius’s perspective, he is currently in a cold, bleak cell in Azkaban, nursing untended tears, lacerations and fractures after an assault by the guards... (These events occur in the previous story, Azkaban. This piece is not intended to be read alone, but is connected with the preceding and following stories.)

Kingsley had no idea what to do next. Contacting the Healers at St Mungo’s was not an option – Sirius Black was a wanted fugitive. He had contacted Dumbledore, who arrived almost immediately, accompanied by Madam Pomfrey, Minerva and Snape; he sent a message to Lupin; and even flooed Arthur and Molly Weasley. They had sat around helplessly, making useless suggestions and wringing their hands.

All had left now, except for Lupin, who joined him sitting by the bed watching Sirius caught in a memory of Azkaban so powerful it overrode the here-and-now. Watching Sirius trapped so deep he sat in the corner and trembled and could not hear their voices. When they gently lifted him onto the bed, he opened his eyes, the iris a silver-grey like reflective mercury, unable to take in light or colour.

~*~

Time without measure passed.

Every second stretched to an hour, every hour to a full day. Every day was an eternity.

Sirius pressed himself against the cold, damp stones in the corner of his room, wiping his runny nose on his filthy sleeve.

He was here. He was back. He had to find a way out.

~*~

“You know, an animagus is powerfully influenced by its animal nature,” remarked Remus, speaking for the first time in more than an hour.

“And?” asked Kingsley, raising his head from his hands.

“And perhaps we ought to try appealing to the dog-part of Sirius – to Padfoot.”

“How could we do that?”

Remus slowly smiled at Kingsley, “Well, earlier you mentioned that you found Sirius in a similar state one day, and by holding and talking to him soothingly you brought him out. Sirius seems stuck further ‘in’ now, so perhaps touch and a familiar voice aren’t going to be effective. But a dog has a powerful sense of smell. So if we introduce scents that could not be present at Azkaban, it might ‘jolt’ him back to the here-and-now.”

“Remus, that’s an idea worth trying. What smells would be most suitable?”

“Well, for now, I’d suggest food. Roast meat, gravy… the things a dog would especially be fond of, I suppose.”

Kingsley nodded his head. “Perhaps Molly could help.”

Remus laughed, “Well that’s a better idea than trying to entice Sirius home with my cooking. I’m not sure that the smell of dinner burning is much of an enticement!”

Kingsley laughed, feeling hopeful for the first time since he’d been unable to draw Sirius out of the fugue state he was in.

“I’ll just go contact Molly. And perhaps Severus too – he might have some ideas about this.”

Kingsley nodded, “Thanks, Remus. I’ll stay here.”

Kingsley listened to the fading sound of Remus’s footsteps racing away. He climbed into Sirius’s bed, wrapping his body against the smaller man to cradle him in the curve of his body. “I’ll get you out of Azkaban, Sirius,” he whispered.

~*~

The incessant wind whispered, nightmare-tales of blood and despair in languages beyond coherence. The damp chilly mist clung to Sirius, its skeletal fingers stroking his cheek, ghosting over his hair, rubbing his torn flesh. The smell of salt, the sea, hung in the air, the only smell he could identify other than the smell of his unwashed still-bleeding flesh, and the smell of his fear.

~*~

Kingsley heard Remus and Snape arriving downstairs. He could hear the murmur of their voices as they climbed the stairs. He could smell the delicious food-smells heralding their arrival – they must have been to the Burrow before coming here, he thought.

Snape followed Lupin into the room; the werewolf’s face looking both weary and hopeful. “Lamb stew and fresh bread, straight from Molly’s kitchen,” announced Lupin, brandishing the basket filled with covered pans.

“I can set up some spells to maintain the smell long after it would have usually faded. And have the scent wafting towards Black,” Snape said, muttering charms under his breath. Curling his mouth into an almost-smile, he added, “I usually have to do the reverse spells when I’m preparing particularly pungent potions.”

They all heard the loud rumble of Sirius’s stomach, and turned hopefully to him as though expecting an instant miracle.

“I suspect we’ll have to do this more than once,” Remus said sadly. “Should we try and feed him?”

~*~

George arrived bearing the now familiar basket, this time redolent with the aroma of garlic bread and spaghetti bolognaise. Remus and Kingsley had certainly been eating well, but they only managed to force a few drops of liquids down Sirius’s throat.

“Mum packed a little pot of chicken soup - she said we had to feed Sirius some.” said George, looking sadly at the wasted man.

After they had managed to spoon a little of the soup into Sirius, they settled down to eat their dinner. Remus and Kingsley spent most of their time in Sirius’s room – leaving only when it was essential. Kingsley had gone into the Ministry only to pick up some files and drop off some paperwork.

Tilting his head to one side, George asked, “I wonder how he’ll respond to Moony on the full moon?”

Both Remus and Kingsley regarded George thoughtfully.

“Why?” asked Remus, “Do you think it could make some sort of difference?”

“Dunno. But have you thought of asking McGonagal to visit while she’s in her animagus form? Or what about bringing a dog in – not an animagus dog, just a mutt? They might be able to interact with Sirius somehow.”

“Brilliant idea,” Remus yelled as he ran out the door, “I’ll owl Minerva immediately. And Hagrid will lend us Fang.”

~*~

The longer he sat in his cell, the more Sirius began to believe he could understand the words whispered on the wind. They were becoming almost decipherable. It was better to listen to the wind, he thought, than to dwell on the cold, damp salt air, or to think of his guards.

An alien aroma crept into the cell – something he had not smelled here before. It smelled savory, warm, comforting, appetizing – like the smell of a family dinner. It made his thoughts shift a little; it almost felt as though the wind was hushed, and the cell walls were beginning to fade.

But then the North Sea wind seemed to increase in pitch, a wail of icy despair.

~*~

George sat by Sirius’s bed, stroking his hair. He felt for the poor guy – he’d had awful luck, George thought. George was a little wary of some of his moods, but he genuinely liked him – when Sirius was in a good mood, the whole world seemed a brighter place. He began to hum the lullabies his mother had sung to him, sliding from one tune into another without bothering about the words. He thought Sirius’s face looked a little more relaxed now.

~*~

The good food smells were so strong in his cell Sirius almost expected steaming plates in front of him. The wind had changed its pitch again, melodic humming ghosted through the cell now. None of this was usual for Azkaban.

~*~

Remus and Kingsley burst back into Sirius’s bedroom, accompanied by Minerva and Fang. Kingsley rushed to the bedside as though he had been away for hours. He clicked his fingers to Fang, and the dog obediently came to sit next to the bed. Kingsley gently swept Sirius’s tangled hair of his face and murmured, “Come back, Sirius. Come back.”

~*~

The wind silenced, Sirius lifted his head in alarm - the wind had never stopped before. He sniffed at the air, he could still smell the homely smells of food, and hear the murmur of familiar voices, and he could smell… dog. Dog? Surely there were no dogs in Azkaban…

~*~

To Kingsley’s enormous relief, Sirius lifted his head and opened his eyes and looked at them. He was back.