Summary: James writes his best friend a letter from Heaven.
Categories: General Fics Characters: None
Warnings: Character Death
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 1
Completed: Yes
Word count: 1290
Read: 2404
Published: 03/30/10
Updated: 04/02/10
Story Notes:
Thankyou to Katie, aka harrypotter627, for betaing.
1. The Truth About Heaven by SexY_LydZ
The Truth About Heaven by SexY_LydZ
Dear Padfoot,
What would you say if you had the chance to speak to me one more time? Would you talk to me about what’s happened? Would you let me talk you out of going after Peter? Even now I can feel your fury, Sirius, your heartbreaking hurt at being betrayed. I wish I were still able to make you feel better. Would you talk to me about all the things you miss? Do you miss our conversations that encompassed everything and nothing all at once? I do. Do you miss full moon nights at Hogwarts, when we ran through the forest like we were running for our lives, when we didn’t really have a care in the world?
I do.
I wonder what you would say. I never thought it was possible for someone to be so intensely private and yet, sew their emotions so clearly to their sleeve. But you wouldn’t go all melodramatic on me. You wouldn’t tell me all the things you regret. The Sirius I know doesn’t regret anything. Don’t tell me you regret what has happened. You were right, of course; you were the obvious choice. Don’t you get it, Padfoot? You were so brave. You knew that even if we swapped, it would still be assumed that you were the Secret Keeper. You were ready to put your life in danger to protect the real Secret Keeper, and me.
Lily wishes she could make you see that you can’t blame yourself for this. It had to happen, you see. We walk a path laid out for us. That’s just the way it is.
It’s raining, you know.
I walked past my grave tonight. It was dark, so oppressively dark in all directions, and the rain was cold on my skin. I didn’t think you felt cold when you’re dead, but I felt it, and it was ten times worse than any cold I ever felt when my heart was beating.
I found your gift too. I didn’t think I’d be able to pick it up; I thought my hand would just melt through it, like mist. But it didn’t. My fingers connected with the wood. If I hadn’t known you so well, if I hadn’t known about that little creative streak you keep mostly to yourself, maybe I wouldn’t have known who it was from. Though, I suppose the fact that it was in the shape of a stag kind of gave it away. I know you carved it by hand. Maybe it’s because I’m dead, but when I touched it, I sort of got a sense of all the emotions that had been in contact with it. All the love and grief and the anger too, because knowing you, I know that as you carved, you were thinking about what Peter did to us.
I found your note under the stag, of course. I thought that when you died, everything bad just went away. I thought that you couldn’t feel sad anymore. But everything seems magnified by death, and reading your note made me feel like I was dying in a different way, in a long, painful way.
To answer your question, it was time. I understand that, at least. I had to leave, and so did Lily, so things could change. We don’t get to choose, Pads. I wish we did. I would never leave Harry, or you. I still want my future; the chance to be with Lily for the rest of my life, to watch my son grow up. He’s going to do great things, I know.
Don’t believe them, Sirius, when they say that it’s better when you leave everything behind. Don’t believe them when they say it’s a ‘better place’, where nothing hurts, where everything bad is taken from you, every bad feeling, everything that hurts. Don’t believe them when they say the weather is perfect when you die. It’s not.
I can barely look at you, Sirius. It hurts. It hurts so badly. I feel so guilty. This guilt presses down on me, like the darkness of this night. I’ll never forgive myself for leaving you alone. I’m afraid they’re going to lock you up in Azkaban and take away all the light inside you. And I’m angry; I’m angry that Remus is going believe the lies. I’m angry that he’s going to betray you too. He’s going to mourn Peter as though he was innocent, and he’s going to be glad that you’re wasting away in Azkaban, and that makes me furious, Sirius.
You deserve the world, and all you’ve gotten, throughout your life, is disappointment. Why do the people you love disappoint you? I don’t know, but I hope with every fibre of my being that I’m not one of them. I promised myself a long time ago that I’d never disappoint you, Sirius.
I miss you. You’d tell me that I’m being silly. You’d look at this letter and you’d throw it away and tell me to stop being such a girl, but then you’d give me a look that would tell me it’s okay - you know all this stuff anyway. You know you’re my brother, my best friend. I don’t have to tell you.
I’m miserable without you, you know. I’d trade in forever to have my life back. I loved it. I had Lily and I had my best mate and I had my son. I’m selfish, I know, but I wanted a lifetime to enjoy it all.
Did I tell you that it’s raining? It is. It’s raining like the heavens are hurting. It’s raining, and I don’t think it’s ever going to stop.
I want to tell you to run, Sirius, to run for your life. I want you to run away from everything that’s going to happen. But I know you won’t. You’re too good, too brave to do something so cowardly. No matter what, I know you’re going to face this head on, just like you went to face Peter. He deserves to go to Azkaban for the rest of his life, and it’s not fair that you’re the one who is going to pay for his treachery.
I wish they did take away all your anger and hurt and frustration when you die. Maybe then I’d just float away, and not have to feel like I’m dying over and over again when I have to watch you curl up in your bed and sob. You haven’t cried like that since the night you turned up on my doorstep after leaving home, and I feel like I’ve betrayed you too because I promised myself on that same night that I’d never let anything make you hurt that way again.
I know I said I had something to tell you, and I do, but it’s going to sound inane and unimportant to you. But it’s important to me, because I know you, and you value truth and honesty and trust and loyalty.
So, Padfoot, my old friend, I want you to know that it rains in Heaven, all day long. Sometimes the rain is furious and heavy and relentless. Sometimes it’s just a miserable drizzle, the kind that soaks you to the bone and then deeper. But no matter what, it always rains.
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