Title: "FireWhiskey Lullaby"- The LilaPotter Version

Rated: PG-13 for substance abuse and some language

Words: 1,872

Era: Pre-Azkaban…and finally post-OotP. Sorry, couldn't pick one

Summary: Songfic to 'Whiskey Lullaby' as per requestfrom Adrenya on LiveJournal. Re-posted here from the remusxsirius community there.

'She's' are changed to 'He's' for the sake of gender fitting…Angsty Angsty Angsty…

It's a bit choppy because it's a sort of train-of-thought thing. And I know I speak/think in fragments. So they do too rather frequently. You don't even want to see all the green squiggles on MS Word

He put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette

He broke his heart he spent his whole life tryin' to forget…

-Flashback: Monday Morning-

"No Sirius, I mean it. I can't keep staying here, wondering when you're going to come back, wondering what you're going to smell of, WHO you're going to smell of. I can't take this anymore. I trusted you. I loved you. But evidently you never felt the same for me. I'm not going to keep submitting myself to this cruel idea of a joke, a prank, whatever it is. I'm leaving. Good luck with life and the war and all, you won't be hearing from me again."

Tears were streaming down his face as he walked out the door with all his necessary-for-life belongings in a bag. He never looked back.

-Present: Friday Night-

Sirius sighed and leaned his head back against the couch. He'd been here for five days solid now. Hadn't left the flat. Hadn't had the heart to do it anymore. After all, it had all been just a show all a long. And why did it matter? Remus didn't love him. He was the one giving information to You-Know-Who. But then, why was he so broken? Why did he cry? A Death Eater wouldn't cry about his lover smelling of sex and women. But Remus had.

Sirius had only done it because he was hurt. Hurt at the idea that he had given his heart to someone who could never do the same, because he no longer had a heart to give, his heart dedicated to the rise of the Dark Lord. He wanted to just be held, be held and forget it all for a while. But he never stopped loving Remus. That had to be why it hurt so much. Hurt like his heart had been pulled out of his chest and the veins and arteries were left to dangle. Hurt like he'd been castrated, for he couldn't think of using that part of his body with anyone else. Not now. Not since he'd cried.

Five days since Remus had left. Seven days since the Secret Keeper had been changed. The spell would be complete within the next…hour and half. It took a while to change secret keepers, until it was done; James and Lily were completely unreachable, because part of the secret was held in each person.

Which meant that Sirius couldn't talk to James about what had happened with Remus. So here he was, downing yet another bottle of firewhiskey.

We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time

But he never could get drunk enough to get him off his mind

Until the night…

-One Hour and Fifteen Minutes Later-

It was then that it hit Sirius. Remus had cried. Remus had cared. Remus was leaving the wizarding world altogether. Remus WAS NOT A DEATH EATER.

But that left Peter. Peter who would have the complete secret inside his being and capable of handing it over to the Dark Lord with in the next fifteen minutes. Which meant that James and Lily would most certainly be dead within an hour.

And it was all his fault. Everything was all his fucking fault. It always was. Anything that ever mattered in life, he destroyed. Trust. Love. Friendship. LIFE.

Sirius bolted from the flat, stumbling over himself to get to his motorbike, almost lost in his state of drunkenness.

He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger

And finally drank away his memory

Life is short but this time it was bigger

Than the strength he had to get up off his knees

We found him with his face down in the pillow

With a note that said I'll love him till I die

A note was lying on the pillow of the couch. A note that would be read by the Aurors and discarded. A note that meant everything.

"I am become death, destroyer of worlds…"

I was wrong. Moony, I love you. I always will. I was wrong and it's all my fault. It's all my fault and I'll always love you. It's all my fault. I'm sorry.

The paper was stained with tears and firewhiskey, but its intended would never see it. So in the end, it mattered not at all.

His world was crumbling.

He had to find James and Lily.


-Half an Hour Later-

Sirius collapsed in front of the ruined house of Godric's Hollow. He was too late. He'd been too disoriented. His drinking was slowly killing him. Everything had fallen apart. Now all he had left was a ruined house, a baby he couldn't take care of, a lover who hated him, and a friend who had destroyed his life. And was likely to be looking for him so no one would learn of the betrayal.

He had to get to Peter first..

And when we buried him beneath the willow

The angels sang a whiskey lullaby

Sirius staggered on his four legs, snout to the ground, sniffing out Peter. He had come this way not to long ago. He had fled the scene. He was headed towards Sirius's flat, knowing he hadn't left it in almost a week and had probably drunken himself into oblivion.

He was partially right. But now, Sirius had something to live for, if only for a little while. He had to kill Peter.

Maybe if he were in his right mind, he would show mercy. Maybe if he still had Remus at the very least, he would still be sane. Maybe if he hadn't been so stupid, so naïve, everything would still be okay and he'd be spending the evening with Remus, curled up in front of the muggle television with a nice cuppa tea. Maybe he'd best stop thinking about what could have been and deal with the present.

He sniffed the air. Peter was here.

Peter was saying something, something about James and Lily. But Sirius was too far gone to hear it. Lost in whiskey and misery. All he could think of was destroying this man, this man who had taken everything. And then it would all be over and he himself could die. He couldn't live beyond this moment, he was sure of it. He raised his wand and opened his mouth…

But his reflexes were slow, his mind was slow, and before he could speak the first word, he was surrounded by wreckage. And Peter was gone. HE had failed. Again. He was a failure.

He collapsed to the ground, crying out in anguish. The Aurors found him there shortly after.

He didn't speak. He wanted simply to die. But what happened to him was far, far worse.

-Twelve Years Later-

The rumors flew but nobody knew how much he blamed himself

For years and years he tried to hide the whiskey on his breath

Remus had been drowning his sorrows for twelve years solid. Ever since that night. That night that he lost it all, James, Lily, Peter, and even Sirius.

Sirius. How he hated to think of him! Sometimes, he was almost convinced that it had been the day he walked out the door of their flat that Sirius went crazy.

Maybe if he hadn't left, everything would still be okay. Maybe he should have looked back.

But after twelve years, he realized that it was a 'maybe he should have', it was a 'he should have'. Not so much to stop what happened, but so that he could see Sirius's face in his mind as the boy he once was. If only he'd let Sirius explain himself. But no, now there was too much hurt in his heart to remember anything good about his life.

So the firewhiskey slid down his throat, burning all the way. He felt its effects long before they took hold. He knew them so well. He anticipated the feelings, well the lack thereof, he longed for them. Longed for the pain to be taken away.

And then he escaped.

He finally drank his pain away a little at a time

But he never could get drunk enough to get him off his mind

Until the night…

-Three Years Later-

Sirius never really went back to normal after Azkaban. The things done to him were too horrible, he couldn't just pick back up where he left off. Remus tried so hard to help him, to make things right. But they never worked. Sirius was truly a shell of his former self.

So the nights were still filled with firewhiskey for them both, drinking away sanity and clarity, only to see the depth of loss more clearly.

But now that was gone too. Now Remus drank alone. He didn't sleep, merely sat on the bed in Grimmauled Place where he and Sirius had once slept. He hadn't slept since that night. He hadn't eaten. Only the whiskey filled him now. Only the whiskey could help him to forget.

But then he would look to his side and see Sirius laughing at him out of the picture frame, see his young face, filled with joy and James and Lily's wedding.

And suddenly, he just couldn't handle it anymore.

He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger

And finally drank away his memory

Life is short but this time it was bigger

Than the strength he had to get up off his knees

We found his with her face down in the pillow

The full moon was rising. Remus ignored the Wolfsbane on the table in favor of his bottle of firewhiskey. It tasted better. It made him forget his pain, not remember it. Not keep his mind, keep his sanity. He'd rather be an animal than to continue to suffer as he was.

He clutched the picture tightly to his chest as the moon softly lifted above the horizon. He laid back against the headboard, the picture in one hand, the bottle in the other. The moon rose slowly and pain started shooting through his body.

But his body never changed. His chest never lifted in agony that he'd endured for so many years, and his bones never broke.

But his heart was no longer beating.

Clinging to his picture for dear life

We laid him next to him beneath the willow

While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby

He had finally left the world that for so long had haunted him.

It didn't take long to decide what should be done. Remus was to be cremated, his ashes spread in the wind just as Sirius's soul had done as he fell through the veil. He was at one with the world, with the beauty of it.

But Sirius and Remus couldn't be without a monument. A stone was placed beneath the Whomping Willow in their memory. Because it was then that they were happiest, when they would lay beneath the willow.

It was later remarked that the air seemed to hum on that day, as though it was finally at peace, happy. As though everything was perfect and complete, finally.

After all, the sooner we die the longer we shall be immortal.

I would adore a review or two..