Sirius, you’re sitting on the side of the road, your hands shaking over James’ still body. Smoke curls up from the bike, the smell of petrol stings your nose, and your hand throbs, but you barely notice. Sirens wail in the distance. I kneel beside you, gently taking your hands. “Sirius… look at me. You’re safe. I’m here. We’re going to take care of you, okay?”