Open Wounds

Fire Whisky

Sirius knows he needs to stop drinking.

He knows it's not good for him.

But he also knows that it numbs the pain of the insults, the hits, and the crucios.

He didn't plan on taking it this far, but when you're put through pain everyday, you need to numb everyday.

So there Sirius sat, smoking a cigarette and drinking copious amounts of Fire Whisky on an empty stomach, waiting for it's effects to settle in before he makes his way to dinner.

His mother screams his name and he flinches in response. He sets the bottle down, takes an uneasy breath, and stumbles to get up. The room around him sways and he hopes that he's drunk enough to deal with this. He carelessly smothers his cigarette out on his side table, adding yet another burn mark into the wood.

He slowly makes his way down the stairs and into the dining room, where his mother and father are sat at the ends of the table, Regulus in between.

"About time you joined us. It's disrespectful to keep us waiting like this," his mother snapped, contempt clear in her voice. Sirius held back a scoff and clumsily took his seat across from Regulus. The room was cold and devoid of any sort of love and happiness that families are supposed to have. He looks up to see his brother studying him carefully.

"Kreacher! Hurry with dinner already!" His father barks. Sirius sighs, Kreacher being his least favorite of the house elves. His father killed his favorite after finding out that she helped Sirius with his injuries after a beating. He made Sirius watch as he cast the spell.

Kreacher came out, setting their dishes in front of them and bowing deeply before retreating back to the kitchen.

The smell of the meat and potatoes makes Sirius nauseous. He should be starving after a full day of not eating, but he's sick to his stomach. He can't tell if it's from the Fire Whisky or just from being in the presence of his family.

He moves his food around his plate with a fork, not wanting to take a bite.

"Stop being so ungrateful and eat your food!" Sirius looks up at his father, disdain in his eyes.

"I'd reeaally rather not," he hiccups, "father o'mine." His words slurred together and a smug grin was plastered on his face.

"Excuse me? Would you care to repeat that?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, "M'sorry, did you not hear me? I said I. Don't. Want. This. Fucking. Food." He's yelling without even realizing it. He knows he's only making things worse for himself, but he can't find himself caring too much. He used to try his hardest to be respectful, but he quickly learned that the beatings will come no matter what because he's "a muggle loving, disgusting, immoral gryffindor," So he might as well allow himself a little bit of fun.

His father stands up so quickly that he knocks his chair over. He whips his wand out and presses it into Sirius's throat. Sirius looks up at his father, darkness filled Orion's eyes, the eyes of a madman.

"CRUCIO!" Excruciating pain filled Sirius's body and he fell out of his chair and toppled to the ground. His mother continued to eat her food as if nothing was happening and Regulus shut his eyes tightly, wishing for this to come to an end.

Sirius writhed on the ground, guttural screams escaping his throat, making it feel like it was being ripped to shreds. Tears squeezed out of his eyes and his vision went completely black. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the pain stopped.

He laid there for a moment, gasping for air and regaining his sight before his father grabbed him by the throat and pulled him up.

Sirius grasped at his father's hands, scratching them and trying to pull them away, but to no avail. He was quickly pinned against the wall, his face mere inches from his father's, "You've been going through our liquor cabinet again, I can smell the Fire Whisky on you. You're nothing but a pathetic, stupid boy. I could kill you right now, just one simple spell."

Sirius stared into the cold slate gray eyes that confronted him, "Then do it." He choked the words out, struggling against the hands that strangled him. His voice lacked any emotion. He was serious, he wanted to die. His father noticed this and laughed, telling Sirius he definitely wasn't just going to be handed death so easily.

"No, no, of course not. I can't simply give you what you want just like that," he tightened his grip around his son's throat and Sirius wheezed in response, "No, I'm going to make you suffer."

He removed one hand from his son's neck and used it to punch him mercilessly. The other hand tightened around Sirius's throat. He watched as his son's face turned red and then started to go blue, and only then did he release him. When Sirius bent over, gasping to fill his lungs, his father planted a blow to his gut. Sirius fell to the floor and a kick swiftly landed in the same area, followed by a couple more. He sputtered up blood and watched as his father's boots made their way back to the table. Orion picked up his chair, sat down, and continued with dinner.

Sirius clenched his eyes shut, arms wrapped around his torso and mouth full of the metallic taste of blood. His ears rang loudly. His drunken state almost completely gone.

He struggled to stand, using the table to pull himself up. He looked at his so called "family," at his parents peacefully eating dinner. He expected to see the same from Regulus, but instead Regulus stared straight down into his lap, breathing quickly. He felt Sirius's eyes on him and looked up to see his broken and bruising brother. After a moment, Regulus seemed to realize where he was and what position he was in and wiped the concern off of his face.

"Go bleed somewhere else." He saw the rejection flash through Sirius's eyes and felt a pang of hurt in his heart, but he didn't show it. Instead, Regulus forced a smile when his father laughed.

At this, Sirius painfully made his way back up to his room, and to a bottle of Fire Whisky and carton of cigarettes both begging to be finished.