Shut Up, Padfoot!

48

James' body slammed into Peter's.

The impact winded the smaller boy and their stances pushed backward. Feet skid on the floor and dust flew up. Alarm shot up my veins as I witnessed the beginning of the fight.

"Fucking asshole," Prongs cursed.

"You're a goddamn prick!" Peter retort.

Peter ran into Remus' nightstand, the candlestick and cluttered items fell and scrambled across the wood. He fisted Prongs' shirt and shoved him in retaliation.

I had only just walked in and once I'd opened the door, they were at each others' necks.

"Oi, oi.. what the hell is going on," Remus commented.

"You always get on my ass about nothing! I can't get a break!" Peter yelled.

I bit my lip in apprehension. Another fight? It'd only been a couple of weeks since the dispute between Padfoot and James. Now Peter?

Prongs pressed a hand to his chest and with force, got him stumbling inches away. He frowned and his facial features contorted pitifully. The deep eye bags and the pale skin stuck tight over his cheekbones did not do too well for him. His dark brows furrowed and he slightly bared his teeth subconciously.

As he zeroed in on him, he leaned down to assume an offensive posture. "I'm going through some shit, you know that, dickhead. Want me to apologize for not wanting to go out?"

"We're all going through our own shit right now! Didn't have to give me that asshole attitude," Peter defended.

"Right! Right, sorry I can't give you a break. Not like you ever gave me one either," Prongs responded.

Once again, Peter took the elder's shirt under his palm and pushed him. He got space between them and he seethed with anger. He glared at him under his fringe, face reddening under emotion.

"There you go again! Mocking me! That's all you do," Peter hissed.

"I don't! What the fuck are you on?"

I swallowed and stood there. What was I supposed to do? I feel like I can't do anything. This was different than when it was about Sirius and James. Something about Peter just tells me that this has been pent up. As if he hadn't been able to say it for a while. Or he'd given way too many chances until he blew up.

Like a fizz soda sizzles and finally lets go under the shaking pressure...

The lid pops.

James fell to the ground, his elbows bracing his fall. The weight of the other Marauder quickly knocked him back down.

Knuckles met his cheek and he grunted after the registration. He didn't get much time to recover and fight back.

Another fist landed on the other side of his face. His head turned to the right this time and he writhed under him. Glasses skid on the floor, one lens cracked. His boots thud on the wood as fingernails dig into Wormtail in attempt to get him off.

"You bloody bastard. You mock me all the time! I'm not a punching bag. I'm not a pushover! I'm not useless! And I am not...

your friend!"

Prongs groaned in pain. The joints along his fingers grew slack and his energy depleted as the core to his body continuously got bashed.

I stood in horror. This is years of pain built up. This is years of the short end of the stick.Years of being neglected.

It's like watching a car crash.

You want to look away..

but you can't.

And it's marked forever in your mind. A black dot on the record. Paint on pearly floors. Blood on skin.

Peter sobbed as he brought his fist back in the air. James lay motionless, arms limp on the ground. Red came from everywhere on his face. Nothing was left empty.

As the despair finally settled, his hand lowered. He cried out and his chest constricted. He struggled to breathe and he struggled to hold on. His pain is in the open and evident on his victim. It's all on the surface now. Everything in the open.

The fear of being hurt by the ones you love is big.

But the fear of being alone is bigger.

So he endures.

He sits and endures.

Six years. He put up with six years of being the less fortunate one of the group. He is less loved. He is less cared for. He was neglected. Whether we knew it deep down or not, it still is our fault.

I think I knew at some point. I realized that I never was as close to him as I was to the others. I wanted to be but there was so much going on in my life. I was going through the challenge of wondering if I'll wake up the next day constantly. I didn't have time for him.

But it's no excuse. If I loved Wormtail, I should've made time. I should've held him tighter or reassured him. Maybe spent more time with him. Anything to ease the pain we caused.

"What the hell happened?"

I turned my head to the doorway. Padfoot stood under the doorframe and surveyed his surroundings. My side stuck to the end of his bed. My own tears slowly making its way down my face as I watched.

A gruesome scene filled with blood. Broken hearted boy taking the hurt out on someone he loves. Nothing can compete with that.

"Moony, go take Prongs to the infirmary. Fawkes and Peter, stay here," Padfoot ordered.

Peter shifted off of James, falling to the floor. His body won't hold him up. His back fell to the leg of a bed. A hand over his mouth, muffling his cries. Bloodshot eyes as he watched the beaten boy get lifted. He's a mess.

I fell back on the mattress I was standing at. My breath came out raggedy and my chest drummed sore. I witnessed the whole entire thing but I couldn't do anything. Nothing. I really have become useless.

Moony and Prongs turned along the door corner and quickly left my line of sight. Padfoot closed the door after them and he sighed with frustration.

Peter's strangled sobs under his bloody hands sent a chill down my spine. I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know what I'm going to say.

This doesn't feel right anymore.

-lana