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Three D's from hell.
They tell you destination, deliberation, determination. They never tell you what happens when you can't focus on those handy three little things. They say 'bad things may happen' but never mention the gruesome and very real consequences of apparating wrong.
Run run run run run, Sirius had thought desperately, she's at your heels, she's going to kill you, kill you-
It's hard to focus when your limbs are still trembling from crucio. When you just left everything behind and are brimming with adrenaline- having stumbled to your feet the instance she'd turned her back. Your mother hadn't noticed, but she would any moment. Sirius had ran down the stairs almost falling over, ragged breath tears falling down his face as he sobbed and ran- he ran feet going one over the other clumsily like a newborn but it didn't matter- just getting away.
"SIRIUS," she bellows and he gasps, a sobbed out "nononono," coming out of his mouth as he wrenched the door open and ran barefoot out into the street. Getawaygetawaygetaway- someone was running after him and he ran faster he was exhausted but he had to run, getawaygetawaygetaway-
"STOP THIS FOLLY! RUNNING AWAY, REALLY? YOU FILTHY BLOOD TRAITOR YOU DISGUSTING MUGGLE LOVER, YOU'D RATHER SAUNTER OFF THE STREETS OF LONDON IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT THAN STAY HOME WITH YOUR POOR DISGRACED MOTHER A SECOND LONGER?"
Curses lit up the street and he wheezed and he gasped and he tripped and he got up and he was bleeding and he needed to get away away away- and his mind wasn't right, but his wand was in his hand he only had his wand and he thought of a safe place, of home, of James, and he pulled at his magic like the way they do when they side-apparate, and he's done this once maybe, messing and fooling around but it couldn't be that hard-
"I'LL MURDER YOU! COME BACK HERE, NOW, HOW DARE YOU LEAVE ME? COME HERE!"
NOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNONONOWNOWNOWNOWNOW HE NEEDED AWAY NOWNOWNOWNOWNOW-
He pulled on his magic, wished himself away away.
James, he thought, James, the Potter estate.
He apparated away like a strike of thunder, his entire being was being torn apart and he screamed louder than he had during the crucio, he tried to wretch himself away from the sensation and something pulled and something was off and he exploded into pain and it hurt like pure agony of white hot-pain it hurt it hurt. He didn't register the cool dew on his back, only that he was out and that he was hurting like crazy.
He clutched his left arm- but there was nothing there. His breathing hitched and his hand finally touched something making him flinch because it was worse and he pulled his hand away and it was covered in blood he was bleeding out, all in pain and it was like an agony like crucio but somehow worst and not at all and it hurt like a thousand knives concentrated into one single point explosing outwards and it hurt like a biting freezing cold of the top of the Everest where bodies are landmarks and it hurts like lava dripping dripping dripping out of him blood crimson red on the Potter's lawn and that's why they tell you to never apparate when you're unsure of where the fuck you're going and-
His thoughts run at the speed of light and slower than a second ticking when you are watching the clock. My arm, Sirius thinks, deliriously, it's gone. It's gone. It's gone it's gone it's gone it's gone it's gone- his arm is gone.
And he hears screams, screams but he doesn't understand anything, and it's all terrible and red it's all so red and he thinks he can never look at the colour the same crimson red like death and a lack of arm my arm I lost my arm he lost his arm, his arm, he lost his arm, his arm and it's all painful confusing red, his arm, no arm, where did it go? no arm, no arm he has no arm, just the one arm just the one arm, just the one the one the one.
Where is his arm? He thinks, delirious, delirious and nowhere is he thinking. No thinking, no thought just like he has no arms left. No arms. Just the one. No arms. One. No. One. Arm? What's an arm? He is nowhere everywhere and people scream and he's moved and it hurts but less and finally finally it stops.
It stops.
Sirius wakes up feeling like something is terribly wrong.
But at least he wakes up.
That's no comfort when he opens his eyes and feels unbalanced. When he opens his eyes and sees the mockingly empty sleeve of his left arm, billowing gently with the breeze from the open window.
It's no comfort when James looks at him like he's seen terrible horrors, but it's not all bad.
His mother's in jail, for one, and at least that's something.
That's something.
His life will never be the same, but maybe it's okay. Because his mother will never hurt him again, because he lives with the Potters, because Reggie's here and he doesn't look at him with hatred anymore and everything is fine.
Because when he thinks of Remy and the full-moons, he understands. He's better at that. He understands the hatred for the pitiful look he's given when magic does what his arm would've done before. The way he tires more easily for his refusal to be helped, the way his wandless magic became heaps and bounds above a normal wizard's.
The worst is really the other people.
Sirius adapts. Of course he does. He adapts to it, with some anger, some bitterness. Sometimes the air where his left arm would've been hurts and sometimes he forgets he doesn't have two arms because the sensation is still there. When he closes his eyes, sometimes he thinks he's never splinched himself so badly they were never able to find his arm. Sometimes it's simple. Other times it isn't.
But somehow, he's never once regretted that night.
Sirius would do it all again.