Work Text:
James POV
"I can't always be reassuring you, mate. Sometimes I just don't want to talk to anyone. I have my own things going on."
Remus closes the door, and I retreat into my bedroom. I fling myself on my bed, curled in a ball, having torn my socks off. Thoughts swirl around my head. Remus hates me. Everybody hates me.
Before long I've worked myself up into sobbing. I cling onto my teddy bears, crying into them.
"Hey...hey...it's okay, James."
I sob out, "Go the fuck away! You hate me! I hate you!"
Through my blurry eyes, I see Remus. "James, I don't hate you."
I cry out, "Yeah you do!"
A hand touches my shoulder, and I flinch away. "Don't fucking touch me! I hate you!"
"Jamie..." Remus doesn't leave. I sniffle and lift my head, and he chuckles. "Yep, I'm not leaving, James."
Confused, I shake my head. "But...but..."
He smiles sadly. "I know you can't see it right now, James. But I love you."
That makes me stop, and I sniffle again. "I love you too. But...but not right now."
He nods. "I can understand that. I know in time you'll come around. For now, what do you think would help you most?"
I sniffle. "Hug."
He hugs me, and I lean into the embrace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sirius POV
"Go the fuck away! You hate me! I hate you!" I listen in the doorway, wondering how the fuck James got this way. James wasn't always sobbing at the slightest provocation. James wasn't always begging for forgiveness, practically on his hands and knees. How did he get this way?
Or maybe...maybe he was always this way and we didn't notice.
James cries on and on, clutching his stuffed animals. He eventually calms down, and I come in when I see Remus hugging him. I join in, James not even noticing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James POV
I'm sniffling and tired for the rest of the day. I stare at myself in the mirror, at the glass cup for washing my mouth out, the cup of toothbrushes, the red one I use, decals of frogs on the mirrors that Peter stuck on. A boy with messed up hair stares back at me, eyes red, cheeks flushed and slightly mottled with acne, crooked glasses. He looks foreign, like he doesn't belong here. His hand moves, and I look down at the movement, staring in bewilderment at the appendage.
More movement in the mirror startles me a little, and I turn to see Sirius. I chuckle a little when I see him holding hot chocolate, a whipped cream mustache on his lip. "Hot cocoa?"
I take the proffered mug, thanking him. I take a sip, comforted by the chocolate and hint of mint, the swirl of whipped cream on top.
I find the others in the living room, and see Remus with a big book. I stroll over, tilting my head to read the pages. I see a title, Anxious Attachment. "What's that?"
Remus shows me, and I read. "That makes sense...my therapist has mentioned that but I don't think that sounds like me."
Sirius raises an eyebrow. "Mate, you might want to read more of that."
I take the large tome, peering through my glasses at the words. Words jump out at me, insecurity and anxiety and emotional highs and lows. The more I read, the more I feel a sinking feeling. "Shit. My therapist is right..."
Peter pats my arm. "So it makes sense, mate. Something triggered you, and you had an emotional high and felt insecure and thought Remus hated you."
I shake my head. "Are you sure it's not...more than that? This isn't normal, mates. You don't do that. Sirius doesn't do that. Remus doesn't do that."
Groaning, I flop onto the sofa. "What's wrong with me?! Why am I like this?!"
Sirius pats my back. "We'll figure it out, mate."