Part 1 of 2
Martyrdom Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be
In retrospect, Regulus Black knew some of his behaviors were pathetic. Pathetic in the way a puppy running back to its master that beats it is pathetic. He did it to his mother for nearly fifteen years until finally he was proved the more satisfactory son, he did it to Bella, pleading with her, telling her that yes- he was ready to be a Death Eater. He could handle it.
And when he did it to Barty it wasn't even just pathetic, it was sick.
But he thought that in retrospect, a lot of things about he and Barty were sick.
Barty was better at being a Death Eater than he was. He knew that. The hours wasted begging his cousin to believe him- that he wascapable. It was pointless.
He didn't know if he could handle it.
He tried not to make it obvious, but it isn't even possible to hide something like that from someone who knows you better than you know yourself.
But Barty covered for him. He took the tasks Regulus couldn't. He volunteered before Regulus could say a word. Barty Crouch Jr. was good at hurting people.
Regulus was hardly even good for watching.
But of course Barty wasn't always around for covering.
He was on his hands and knees in the middle of the floor. His bedroom was so real, so there. His stomach felt hollow. He always felt like this after an encounter with death. Not like watching-people-die-death, like killing-people-himself-death. It made him sick and he didn't know why.
His bedroom door swung open and the clicked shut and another click indicated it was locked.
"Get up," someone said. The tone was commanding and harsh.
Regulus looked up before falling into a sitting position. It wasn't often he disobeyed orders.
Sometimes it was hard to believe that Barty Crouch was younger than he was.
His oldest friend kneeled down behind him.
"I cannot stress enough how important it is to stay level-headed in times like these. This is war Regulus, you knew what you were signing up for," he whispered in his ear. "This is not about blood or status, this is about power. Abandon all notions of blood purity and know that you have chosen the side that will overcome. You have chosen the winner. This is not about your family or your blood or my blood or my family. This is simply another power struggle."
"This isn't what I signed up for," Regulus whispered back.
"You just feel incapable."
"Killing people is not what I signed up for Barty."
"You have to crack eggs to make an omelet."
Regulus shut his eyes.
"I can't protect you forever, you know," Barty said, standing up and pulling Regulus to his feet. "I can't take on mission after mission to keep you from doing it. I'm responsible for you and I don't like it."
He nodded.
"But the second I'm not responsible for you, that'll be the end of you. You know this."
Regulus swallowed hard and nodded again. He wished Barty wouldn't stand so close, he was all too aware of the proximity and it made everything seem less and less comfortable.
"You'd be nothing without me. You wouldn't even be a Death Eater without me."
"I know."
"And you wondered why I always said you were better off without me," he whispered in Regulus's ear, turning towards the door.
Hours later, lying on his stomach staring at the pillow, Regulus thought Barty was right.