GOOD DOG || Sirius Black

(Fifty: The Writing on the Wall)

Sirius Black was going to kill his little brother.

Rule number three hundred and six in the universal code of brotherhood, right after the one about the nut-kicking, was that you do not under any circumstances knock out your brother when he is in the middle of trying to sweet talk his maybe-girlfriend back into her body. That is textbook dickishness. Beyond the laws of the no nut-kicking rule.

So who's to blame, really, for the barrage of insults and swear words that he hurled at the cold metal of his cell door when he woke tied to a chair, completely unaware of the frightened little girl in the room next door? Sirius' money was on Regulas. 

"-Slimy little snake prawn!" He yelled, only just beginning to test the limits of his creativity after half an hour of continuous shouting, "I'm gonna make you look like Mushu from Mulan after an introduction to zero gravity, you pathetic excuse for a reptile!"

Muttering sounded from outside the room.

Sirius raised his voice to get through, "You're gonna wish for something as sweet as pain!"

The little metal hatch slid across, and a guard's face appeared, frowning, "You stole that from The Avengers."

"My girlfriend likes superhero movies." Sirius shrugged, deciding it was easier to use the questionable word than to explain the complicated circumstances that surrounded his relationship with Alex.

"Solid choice. Great characters." The guard nodded thoughtfully, "Loki's always been the best villain."

Sirius blinked, trying to retain some of his limited Marvel education, "Yeah, Alex said something like that."

"It's the layers." The guard explained, "You gotta give them layers."

"Right."

The guard frowned again, "Do me a favour, would you, mate? Don't tell my boss I said any of this, we're not meant to like that muggle crap."

"You got it." Sirius promised sincerely, "Can I get back to yelling at my worthless worm of a brother now?"

"Oh, he's not here." The guard offered conversationally, "We've sent off for him though. You're giving some of the guys migraines. And John's expecting an owl from his wife. They're gonna have a kid, you know. And he's gotta move fast once the bird gets here, it's not like those talky-things muggles have."

"Phones." Sirius offered helpfully.

The guard clicked his fingers, "That's it. I'm always forgetting that one; makes it real difficult to go undercover, that's why they moved me to guard duty."

A single shrill note echoed through the cell.

"Well," The guard smiled apologetically, "That's the end of my shift. I'll see you around."

Sirius tested the ties on his wrist experimentally, "I'm not going anywhere."

"I hope you kill your brother!" The guard encouraged cheerfully, "Or mash his brains out with a rusty spork or whatever that middle one was."

"Thank you." Sirius said genuinely.

The guard slid the panel closed with an ear-aching symphony of whining metal that sounded far too happy for Sirius' liking. He glanced up at the ceiling, mind working fast to formulate a plan.

Mentally, he sent a silent apology to John, and hoped his wife sent an owl soon.

"You scaly prick! I'm gonna show you how to make snake-hide boots out of your nipples! They'll be super small so you can use them to put on the Ken doll I'm gonna stab through your eye! Just..."