A/N: Week 4 of the Gift Giving Extravaganza. Still (mostly) sane. For my brilliant darling Paula because she keeps me inspired. A big thank you to the ever lovely Sam for helping me piece this together, and the the wonderful Laura for reading through it first.

I.

They fall into bed as they often do. Barty wants him, needs his touch, but Regulus only wants to hold him. It should be the first sign that something is wrong, but the older wizard chooses to ignore it.

"Regulus?" Barty whispers, caressing his lover's arm.

"Go to sleep, Barty," Regulus soothes, stroking his fair hair gently. "It will all be okay. I promise."

Barty starts to protest, but his words are swallowed by a yawn. Eyes heavy, he rests his head on Regulus' chest, falling in and out of sleep. Maybe Regulus whispers his love, but Barty is caught between worlds and can't distinguish reality from dreams.

He's awakened hours later by Regulus stirring beside him. Barty isn't surprised, really. The two have never greeted a morning together. Still, this time feels different somehow, and he instinctively reaches out for Regulus, mumbling his name in sleep-heavy tones.

"Shh. It's going to be okay," Regulus promises again.

Even with his mind fuzzy and not fully awake, Barty finds this strange. "What will?"

"Everything."

His lips fall upon Barty's cheek, but they're gone just as quickly. Knowing Regulus has left, Barty curls onto himself, arms wrapping around a pillow. The pillow is a poor substitute for a lover, but it's warm enough to believe, and it still smells like Regulus.

OoOoO

Barty waits. And waits. And waits. Regulus will come back. He always comes back.

"You give me a reason to keep going," he had told Barty once.

But that first night turns into a second, turns into a third. Then the whispers begin.

Regulus is dead, they say, and, somehow, Barty knows it's true.

Regulus has betrayed the Dark Lord. Barty tries to deny it, but he remembers how strange Regulus had acted that last night, and he grudgingly accepts it.

Regulus, the one person Barty could always depend on, has left him behind, has thrown him away, just like everyone else.

OoOoO

"Crucio!" he cries, watching with a gleeful grin as Frank writhes and screams on the sitting room floor.

It hadn't taken much to convince Barty to join the Lestranges. He's been breaking ever so slowly, as though his bones might split his very skin if he doesn't do something, anything.

He's vaguely aware of Bellatrix shrieking at the Longbottom woman. "Where is the Dark Lord? You know! Don't lie!" Barty doesn't bother with questions.

"Crucio! Crucio!"

The Auror's screams are hoarser now, broken from pain, but Barty doesn't stop. Frank's face seems to change, and his hair grows and darkens until Barty sees Regulus before.

Regulus, who had betrayed their master. Regulus, who had abandoned Barty and left him alone, breaking every promise he'd made. Regulus, who deserves to be punished. Barty wants to break him.

"Crucio!"

He doesn't know how many times he's repeated the curse by now. He only knows that the light has long since faded from Regulus'- from Frank's- eyes.

"Cru-"

A hand grips his wrist, pulling his hand down. Barty looks up to see Bellatrix staring at him with wide, shocked eyes. Even with her bloodlust, the witch looks concerned and maybe a little frightened. "That is enough!" she hisses. "It's done. They can't help us."

II.

He has a job to do. His master needs him. Even if Regulus had seen Barty as disposable, his master sees his true worth.

He can't afford to get distracted, but all it takes is a flash of grey. Barty knows those eyes. Once, they had been Regulus'. But, where Regulus' had been a stormy grey, so proud yet so sad, the Diggory boy's are lighter, softer. His eyes are the grey that promises a gentle, cleansing rain, still shining with the optimism of youth.

Right eyes, wrong boy. Even if Cedric appears to be like Regulus on the surface- a grey eyed Seeker with a smile that can melt anyone- he isn't Regulus. He will never be Regulus.

But Barty doesn't care.

OoOoO

Wearing the skin of a paranoid Auror, Barty watches Cedric. Sometimes, he catches Cedric staring, and Barty wonders if he can see beneath the illusion, all the way into Barty's blackened soul.

Regulus had been able to. He'd seen the monster inside Barty, had whispered such beautiful promises of the Dark Lord and belonging, of finally rising from his father's shadow.

And Cedric looks at him the same way with those painfully familiar grey eyes. Barty wonders if he's disgusted by what he sees.

OoOoO

"Diggory, a word," Barty growls in Moody's rough voice.

The boy appears startled, and his friends offer him sympathetic looks. Barty is sure he hears someone mumble something about ferrets and luck.

The classroom empties, and Barty's heart races. This is a foolish risk, dangerous and stupid. He shouldn't even consider it.

"Yes, Professor?"

"I want to show you something."

"Professor, I should go. The final task is- Are you okay?"

Barty grips the edge of his desk until his knuckles turn white, gasping and panting. He feels his hair draw back into his skull as his skin grows firmer, slightly lined but much less wrinkled. He's himself again, exposed and so very vulnerable.

The teen takes a step back. "You're supposed to be dead," he whispers, eyes wide with recognition.

"Not quite," Barty says dryly, and he kisses him.

At first, Cedric resists, his body growing tense. But he doesn't pull away, and Barty is grateful for that. Slowly, Cedric relaxes, clinging to the older as though he might fall away otherwise.

"Why me?" Cedric whispers when they break apart.

Barty can't bring himself to answer.

"Professor," the Hufflepuff says, and Barty nearly laughs at the title. "Have you ever been in love?"

Such a strange question to follow one kiss. "Once."

"Do you love me?"

Again, Barty stays silent. To love Cedric would be too painful, too wrong. "You should go. You have a task to prepare for." It would be a betrayal to Regulus' memory.

"Professor-"

"Oh, and Diggory." Barty raises his wand, speaking in pained tones. "Obliviate."

OoOoO

Barty shows no emotion when he sees Cedric's lifeless body, but he's breaking all over again. As he grabs Harry, he spares one last glance at the fallen wizard. Gone so young, just like Regulus.

Barty whispers a quiet farewell before turning away. He has work to do.

III.

He can feel the chill, and he knows the Dementors are close. Maybe Barty should be afraid of his fate, but he welcomes it.

Regulus is gone. Cedric is gone. Maybe he won't join them tonight, but he'll be tossed into the numbness of oblivion, and he will feel no more.

A Ministry official reads the order, but Barty can't hear the words. Cold and despair wash over him as new voices crop up inside his head.

Regulus. "Go to sleep, Barty. It will be okay."

His father. "Should've left you to rot."

Cedric. "Have you ever been in love? Do you love me?"

Barty screams, finally giving in to everything he's bottled up. He allows himself to grieve, to finally feel, even if it's much too late.

The pain is gone. There is only cold and darkness, and Barty can't feel a damn thing.