The Hellhound

Ch. Nine

All she did was roll her eyes. Her lips parted, but then the door was thrown open, making Sirius flinch as it banged into the wall.

"Mama! I want pancakes!" a high-pitched voice that was murder on his ears squealed.

Galloway grinned as something miniature and blonde launched itself into her arms. She caught the thing and said, "I think we can manage some pancakes."

"And bacon!" another small voice crowed, and Sirius had the breath knocked out of him as a small body slammed into his upper back, arms wrapping around his neck in a chokehold.

Before he could react, the small body flipped itself over the top of his shoulder to land in his lap, giggling as it looked up.

Sirius didn't understand what was happening until he stared down at the child in his lap to find a boy of maybe seven or eight years with midnight hair and winter-grey eyes. His head snapped up to look at Galloway who was laughing with a little girl, younger than the boy, who had blonde hair. She peered up at him with sapphire eyes, and his breath whistled out like he'd been gut-punched.

The little boy stood up, hands on Sirius' shoulders to keep his balance. He bounced up and down on the bed, laughing as he looked down at Sirius with more affection than he could fathom. The boy asked, "Bacon, Dad. Can we have bacon? I want bacon. Please, Dad?"

Galloway answered for him. "I'm sure Dad wouldn't mind making some bacon, Connor. Would you, Dad?"

"What about pancakes?" the little girl demanded, glaring at him with eyes that he'd only ever seen in the mirror before. She growled, the sound playful, and jumped toward him, little claws scratching at his skin as she caught herself against his bare shoulder.

Galloway laughed, the sound gorgeous and contented. She caught the little girl around the middle and pulled her away from Sirius, hugging her and making her giggle. Still cuddling her, she said, "Yes Ala, we can make pancakes."

His eyes met hers and he found her grinning at him, the expression mocking and delighted and so very happy. Slowly, he shook his head. "I can make bacon."

The child in his lap, Connor, shouted with delight, throwing his little arms around Sirius' neck. After a moment of petrified shock, he held the boy close, a terrible sadness destroying the dream as soon as he touched him.

Darkness seeped across the picture in front of him, taking Galloway and Ala, then finally ripping his son from his arms.

His eyes opened in the real world, pain battering him from every angle. He gasped in a horrible, racking breath, feeling like someone had thrown him down a mountain, then picked up the mountain and placed it on his chest. 

"Guys! He's not dead."

His gaze drifted listlessly to the side. He was unable to move any more than that. Rick looked down at him from where he was standing next to whatever Sirius was laying on. This time, it was something lumpy, uncomfortable and hard. 

Conversationally, Rick asked, "What the fuck was that you were fighting, Fido?"

He tried to speak, but his throat didn't appear to be working just yet. Rick nodded sagely, like he had answered, then said, "Well you were damn lucky we showed up when we did. That fucking thing looked 'bout ready to take off your head."

Sirius remembered that. The darkness had taken an actual, physical body, vowing that if it couldn't have him, then nothing could.

Coughing, he tried to sit up, but all his muscles did was shiver in protest. He looked up at Rick again, who seemed to know what he wanted. Shaking his head, he dropped the teasing tone and said, "Dude I don't even freaking know how you're alive. So why don't you just lay there and bleed for a little while, huh?"