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The lights are flashing, energy buzzing and Sirius feels sick to his fucking stomach . It’s the alcohol he thinks— he’d had a lot to drink, enough for his vision to blur and his heart rate to spike. He feels on edge, like someone has pumped straight anxiety and heart palpitations into his blood streams, and it started ever since James had left his sight. It’s not like he can’t be away from Sirius, they’re not always attached to the hip, but something about today… it makes Sirius feel uneasy. Someone— Peter?— hands Sirius a cup of something and he takes it, not bothering to take a sip as he starts trying to wade through the crowd.
Sweat permeates the air, alcohol too, and it makes Sirius dizzy— maybe it was the vodka. Or was it tequila? His mind buzzes, he can’t fucking think and the only thing on his mind is finding James. He finds the stairs and he doesn’t quite trust himself but he doesn’t know where else to check. His sober mind would probably have searched the downstairs bathroom and closets by now, but he’s drunk on an empty stomach and he’s just so desperate . He’d think of himself pathetic if there wasn’t a deep churning in his gut letting him spiral into a fit of worry.
Sirius jingles a bathroom door— it’s locked, which, god , fuck it worries him so much. Logically he knows that someone could be using the bathroom, not so drunk they forget to lock the door. Maybe that person is hooking up with someone else— maybe it is James. It’s not even followed by a moment of hesitation, Sirius starts pounding on the door, aggressive knocks that hurt his knuckles and he might be yelling James’ name but he doesn’t fucking know . He’s dizzy with worry— dizzy with the alcohol in his system.
The worry has no clear source, really, Sirius doesn’t think there’s anything to worry about. But yet… but yet the anxiety persists and it persists even as the door opens and he’s met with someone who isn’t James.
“Geez, fuck what’s your problem?” The guy hisses, sliding out past Sirius, “James isn’t in here, saw him go that way.” he says, pointing right and Sirius doesn’t even thank him before heading off in that direction. He starts checking every room— the guest room, his own room, James’ room, fuck he’s not in any of them. He’s getting antsy now, anxiety pooling in his stomach in such a violent turbulent way that it feels like sea sickness. He reached the final room, the one that he’s never really seen because it’s Effie’s and Monty’s room.
Sirius practically breaks his way into the bedroom, uncaring about the fact it’s locked and too drunk to look for the key that’s on the doorframe. He vaguely registers the fact his voice is hoarse from yelling, mind reeling, sweet slicking his palms as he bursts the door open. The wood splinters but he ignores it because there’s something wrong and perhaps if, in the morning, he remembers this he’ll feel guilty and ashamed for causing a stir over nothing. But no— it’s not nothing.
The air is punched out of his lungs and Sirius can’t do anything but scream at the look of James. He’s barely visible from behind the cracked bathroom door, but when he can see is James in the bathtub, head lolled over and bottles of pills falling from his hand. Sirius rushes over, soul leaving his body as James looks dazed— out of his mind and like he’s not alive.
“James! Fuck, I just— James .” Sirius babbles, words slurring and he’s gripping James’ face, “James, c’mon just say something.”
“Sirius.” James slurs, a smile on his face, he can’t even lift his head and his eyes are clouded and he looks out of his mind with drugs. “Hi.” He mumbles, eyes closing and Sirius doesn’t even know what to do, and his eyes are closing and Sirius is yelling and screaming again and he can’t breathe and then he’s hit with the sudden idea—
Sirius digs for his phone, pulling all sorts of useless crap from his pockets before he gets it. Before he knows it he’s speaking to Effie; “Effie, mum, I don’t— James took something and he’s not— I don’t know what to do, mum, please .”
“Sirius! Sirius, slow down— what happened, James did what?”
Sirius lets out a hiccupy cry and he tries to form the words, “We threw a party and James wandered off— I’m sorry.” He sobs, “He grabbed something,” Sirius grabs the bottle from James’ hand, blurry vision trying to grab onto anything it says, “Oxycontin,” he gasps out.
The next time Effie speaks it’s full of panic, “Okay, Sirius, just, I need you to hang up on me and call 999, okay? Stay on the line and do everything they say. Can you do that for me?”
“No, I can’t— mum please , you can’t— don’t hang up.” Sirius begs and he can’t just… he wants her here . “Mum—”
“Sirius, call the police.” Effie says, sternly but still paced with panic and Sirius sobs, unable to do anything besides listen .
The police call is nothing but static in Sirius’ ears but he keeps them on the line as they dispatch officers to the house. He knows they can get in serious trouble, while most of them are eighteen he knows there’s people younger here too but he doesn’t care— he only cares about James. He tries keeping James awake, his eyes blinking and unfocused but he’s awake and he hears sirens and James is awake— James is awake but barely and his eyes keep closing and he’s second from dozing off. But then there’s paramedics in the bathroom and they’re rushing Sirius out while taking care of James.
The rest of the night, the paramedics and police asking him questions, passes in a blur. Sirius doesn’t know what they say, he doesn’t know what he says, all he knows is that James is in the hospital, safe, not dead. Effie and Monty have come back from their trip early and he feels guilt eat him alive as he stares at them in the hospital waiting room. The hours between calling Effie and actually seeing James in the hospital bed feels like eternity, but when he does see James something settles inside of him. Like the universe has righted itself.
Sirius just didn’t think that’d be the last time James speaks to him. His anger outweighs their friendship… and yet Sirius can’t get himself to regret that call to Effie. James might hate him but he’s alive.