roartonrisen | (no subject)

Sirius squints up at the sign above his head, reading it for perhaps the dozenth time before looking back down at the blasted phone Kieren has been insisting he carry more frequently. He'll admit that, for today, it's actually been useful and the sole reason he's even been able to find his way to the Cineplex at all.

It's also been his only way of keeping track of the time and, if the numbers on the little device are anything to go by, Kieren is half an hour late.

Perhaps it's foolish to jump to worst case scenarios, but it's only been a month since Sirius had to fight off a man with a crossbow and apparate Kieren into his flat where he couldn't accidentally eat someone.

Letting out a huff, Sirius spends a few more minutes pacing. He checks the time once more then twice more, and after making very sure no one's around to see, pops right into Kieren's front room. The relief he feels over finding Kieren curled up on the sofa, pad of paper in hand, is almost enough for him not to shout.

Almost.

"Is this where you've been?"

Kieren jumps, startled at Sirius suddenly being in his room. He's getting used to the whole apparating business, but the truth is that it still knocks him off-kilter at times, because he's used to someone knocking. Well, at least, he likes to think people will knock. He tries not to think about locked doors, the icy sensation down his back bringing him back to that moment where his parents didn't trust him.

"I live here," he points out, pencil stuck on paper. "I was just thinking of calling you," he admits. "Strange, that."

"Yes, very strange," Sirius agrees, not feeling the least bit of remorse for popping in unexpected, particularly given the way Kieren clearly appears not the least bit frazzled or in a hurry to be anywhere at all.

"Very strange as I've been standing out the Cineplex for half an hour waiting for you. Merlin, Kieren, I thought you'd gone rabid again!"

Kieren blinks and stares at Sirius, not entirely sure what he's talking about. He sets the pad beside him and slowly eases onto the edge of the sofa, giving Sirius a wary look. "Why were you waiting for me at the movies?" he wonders, frowning as he tries to think of a reason why Sirius would be there and why he would think that he's suddenly gone rabid.

"Because you said you wanted to take me!" Sirius says waving his arms now, growing more confused himself by the second. Now that he's found Kieren, found that he's safe and sound and not making a snack of a five year old, he's letting some irritation flare. "We arranged to meet there at 7:00 and it's well past that now if you haven't noticed. The movie has started, of course."

He blinks, gripping the couch as he stares up at Sirius, a wary look as he tries to look for mirth in his expression, but there's nothing there. He's serious. "I don't remember that," is what he says warily, swallowing nervously as he wonders whether he had arranged it. "Sirius, I don't...I don't remember that."

Kieren's expression shifts then, his easy smile slipping away. Sirius finds some of his own fire banking a bit, arms dropping to his sides. Perhaps he'd gotten the day wrong himself?

Frowning, he fishes the small device out of his pocket. It takes a few taps for him to turn it on again and then he holds it out for Kieren. "It's on there, isn't it? You messaged me days ago."

Did he? Kieren doesn't recall this at all. He pushes himself up off the couch and leans forward to inspect what Sirius is trying to show him. Frowning, he sees that yes, indeed, he does see a little message from him saying that they ought to go and see a film, properly, in the theatre. Here's the trouble: "Are you sure that's me? I really, really don't remember sending that out?"

"Well, I certainly don't know who else might be inviting me to a film," he says, pulling the contraption back now to inspect himself more carefully. He's still trying to make sense if the thing, if he's honest but Kieren's name is clearly at the top.

Glancing up at Kieren again, his frown deepens. "You genuinely don't remember? You can say you'd just rather not go - I won't be offended." After all, it was Kieren's idea to begin with.

Kieren stares at the text. It's him, all right. It's his name and his phone number, but he has absolutely no recollection of making these plans. Something beads on his upper lip and he dabs it away, staring at Sirius as he tries so desperately to remember making these plans. "I really don't remember," he says, stomach bottoming out with panic.

Sirius's frown deepens as Kieren lifts a hand to dab at the skin below his nose, his fingers come away darkly red.

"Kieren," he says, his irritation melting away, replaced with a mounting concern. "Kieren, you're bleeding."

He stands to fetch one of his rags that he uses for painting, using it now to wipe away the remainder of the blood that's on his finger from the light trickle down his nose. "It's nothing," he insists. "It happens every now and then." He presses a clean edge of the rag to his nose, trying to give a cheerful, bolstering smile.

"I really didn't mean to forget. I honestly don't remember making those plans."

Despite Kieren's insistence that it's no cause of concern, Sirius has a bad feeling. Perhaps it's only residual upset from being so easily forgotten, but it doesn't feel quite the same. If Kieren were Remus, he'd only roll his eyes and groan about Sirius being melodramatic.

The memory doesn't sit well and he lets out a huff. "Yes, well, I suppose it wasn't so important. I'll leave you be then."

His eyes flash with worry, panic sitting in his limbs. He doesn't want to see desperate, but the thought of Sirius leaving right now is a bad one. "What, you're going?" he asks, a bit dumbfounded. "Is it because you're mad that I forgot the date?"

And he did, he quite literally forgot even making it. Still pressing the rag to his nose, he tries not to look too pathetic. "I'm really sorry about that. I am."

"Well, it doesn't matter, does it?" Sirius replies, gaze catching briefly on the rag Kieren has pressed to his nose. He does worry, even now, about that trickle of blood. It's not the first time he's seen Kieren bleed, but it's unnerving all the same. Kieren had panicked the last time, had asked that they stop what they were doing so he could get his wits about him.

Now he seems hardly worried in the least.

Sirius runs a hand through his hair, lips still curled in a frown. "It didn't have to be a date," he points out. "We could've just arranged to meet up, not go anywhere. Maybe you might've remembered then."

"I want to remember!" he says, a little wildly as his irritation starts to build up and snap. "It's not like I intentionally left you stranded there. I don't remember making those plans, I don't remember sending that text, and I don't remember that I was supposed to be there."

And then, all at once, that hits him in a dizzying fashion that, combined with the bleed, makes him sag back on the sofa. Because what if this means the drugs aren't working anymore and his brain is losing the ability to make memories?

Kieren snaps at him, though Sirius hardly reacts. He's spent well over a decade irritating various friends and family members; the only surprising thing is it's taken him this long to get under Kieren's skin. He knew it'd happen soon enough, though he hadn't quite counted on Kieren simply forgetting him.

He's about to open his mouth and say as much, but he stops himself when he sees the expression coloring Kieren's face. "What?" he asks, lips curving into a frown. "Have I done something else as well?"

"No, I..." He swallows the fear, but it goes nowhere. It just sort of sits there and decides to keep growing, no matter what Kieren is trying to do. "I think maybe this might mean the drugs aren't working or that I'm starting to build up a resistance to them. Memories, making them, that would be a function of my brain when things are working."

And if things aren't...

He feels dizzy and it's half like the blood takes that as a reason to pulse harder, sludgy and black, and he shoves the rag against his face all the harder.

"Aren't working," Sirius replies, that worry that had flickered earlier suddenly flaring bright all over again. "Is this something that's happened before?"

Except, of course he knows the answer to that. There'd clearly been something wrong to cause Kieren's last rabid spell, a case of his drugs not working or something otherwise going awry. Kieren hastily brings the rag to his face again and Sirius feels another spike of panic. "Should I get Newt?"

"I don't know," he says quietly, his guilt starting to eat at him a little more than before as he stares at Sirius. "I can't believe I really forgot our plans," he says, aghast. Part of him wants to think that something is severely wrong, just to have an excuse for how he could do something like that.

"You don't know if it's happened before or you don't know if I should get Newt?" Sirius asks because, in this moment, he really isn't honestly certain exactly what Kieren can remember and what he can't. He's explained that it's a brain thing, that the drugs aren't enabling him to create new memories, but does that mean the drug could ever reverse entirely?

If this were a spell he might have some idea of what to do, but this Muggle science is boggling.

He glances down at Kieren's nose again, frown deepening. "What if you don't stop bleeding? What does that mean?"

"Both," he says quietly. He has no idea if this has happened before and can't tell whether he should be concerned because he hasn't got the memories to know. He eases the rag away and checks on the movement of the blood. It's slowed, but hasn't stopped.

He reaches a hand out to try and coax Sirius closer. "Please forgive me? I know I've made a mess of things, but I really didn't mean to."

Sirius looks at the rag as Kieren draws it away from his face, notes the streaks of dark, sludgy blood, a bit of it still trickling from Kieren's nose.

Deflating some, he steps forward, lips tugged into a frown as he sits at the edge of the coffee table. "It didn't strike me as something you'd do on purpose," Sirius replies, shifting enough that his knee lightly knocks against Kieren's. "I won't think anything of it if you promise to talk to Newt. I can go along if you'd like. If... well, in case you can't remember it later."

He nods, a little frightened at the idea that he might start forgetting more. "I think, just in case," he begins haltingly, hating to admit to such weakness, "that you should come with me, just in case I do forget." And that sends a frightening chill down his back -- which is what he's blaming his strange shakes on right now.

What's happening to him?

Nodding, Sirius keeps a careful eye on Kieren, gaze catching still on the press of the rag against his face. What does it mean if the bleeding doesn't stop? Or does, but then comes back again?

What does it mean if the drugs aren't working and Newt can't find ones that do?

Perhaps he's getting ahead of himself.

"Just say the word and I'll be there," he finally manages, smiling just a little as he rests a hand atop Kieren's knee. Kieren's shivering just a little and Sirius squeezes lightly. "Do you need anything now?"