just as soon as sirius arrived, his surroundings melted together into an indistinguishable blur and even peter, whose movements sirius vaguely registered in his lapse of concentration, got lost in the haze. his gaze kept fleeting from one distant point somewhere behind peter to another and yet somehow, it pierced through the smaller boy. it was as though if sirius stilled himself, then he would let the harrowing images of his discovery at godric’s hollow to flood his memory again. this was his terrible conundrum. he tried to pull himself as farther away from the realisation which was on the precipice of dawning on him as possible, yet he so desperately needed to arrive there, to finally see what stood before him.
it wasn’t until much later that he realised peter spoke and in his shocked daze, and as his eyes kept flicking wildly from one building to one shadowed silhouette dashing down the busy muggle street to a lamp post to the wet and reflective ground, sirius finally registered the fright animating peter’s features. so he wasn’t alone. the only shred of solace he could find in this ocean of confusion and despair. peter was afraid too. merlin knew what peter went through, earlier in the evening when sirius had passed by his safe house only to be greeted by absence. merlin knew how peter survived but somehow, through some miracle, he stood before sirius with the chance to live and fight another day.
❛ i was looking for you. i was going to check on you and you weren’t - home, you were … so i went to godric’s hollow and - ❜ he no longer had control over his voice, his words were clipped short and came billowing out in a tangled mess. james was the first body. not body. james was not just a body. not was. james is, james is, james is. ❛ he found them. ❜ another cloaked body lay limply at the entrance to the bedroom. not james. not lily. sirius didn’t stop to check it because something else edged into view. lily is, lily is, lily is. they weren’t gone. they couldn’t be. at some point, all the air inside sirius’s lungs seeped out through his short and shallow breaths. he opened his mouth agape and it was all he could do not to choke on air. the lump in his throat blocked it. nothing was coming in. ❛ he killed them. ❜ james’s lifeless contorted body. lily’s eyes and mouth open wide. harry crying in his crib. the dark lord’s shrouded body. ❛ i - where … ❜ his knees felt like jelly. ❛ where were you? ❜
peter’s eyes never left sirius’ form, watching him closely to decipher his next move, his next words. watching the realisation cross his features made him think that perhaps he should look the same, feel the same. his heart should have been shattered, he should have been tirelessly trying to pick up the pieces with bloodied hands and tear-stained cheeks, he should have looked far worse than he did. in truth peter had come to peace with the nature of death, though in the dead of night when sleep evaded him he thought he might turn himself inside-out with guilt and that his heart may exit through his mouth if he dared to think of it a moment longer.
he found them. he killed them. sirius had looked for him. peter took a performative gasp of breath, brows pinching together and lips down-turned, he looked as though he was about to be sick - sick with guilt and the realisation of what he had done, what he had caused? peter had watched it, the surge of power that destroyed the house and he had heard it, lily’s plea for mercy, the way she had begged for death in the place of her infant son. he had seen her in the aftermath and thought that somehow death should have looked kinder on her than it did, had seen james’ wand and thought him a fool for his lack of thought - or was it sick with fear, the dark lord was dead, peter had missed his chance for a cleaner exit. sirius had been in the palm of his hand, all he’d needed to do was close his fist, and he couldn’t. he had raised his wand but could not make his mouth form the words and could not will himself to speak them, jaw and eyes shut tight like a child during a thunderstorm.
sirius’ next question made him freeze, and though peter had always been a great pretender, he had never been a skilled liar. there was nothing to show of an excursion with the death eaters, not a hair out of place to suggest he had been anywhere other than where he should have been, and where sirius had said he wasn’t. peter hadn’t known what would become of the dark lord, there had been no need to stage an abduction, no reason to fear the uncovering of his secret. how wrong they were. he shook his head violently, his fearful expression deepening - sirius had always been a good comforter of fear when peter had needed him to be, and he thought now that was as great a distraction as anything. ❝ i - it’s not safe here. we’re not safe, sirius. ❞ he stepped closer again, voice quiet and unsteady - a mirror of sirius’ own - hands outstretched but not touching him, lest he get so close that escape would be impossible. ❝ come, come back with me. please. ❞