Written for the Quidditch Leagues Fanfiction Competition.
Task: Your OTP dealing with a mental illness.
Prompts: (dialogue) "What hve I done this time?", (word) unravel, (narrative device) Flashback
OTP: Barty/Regulus
Word Count: 1471
They were going to have a fun night at the Bonfire, Regulus had already decided. They were going to have toffee apples, hot cocoa with marshmallows, and of course, watch the exquisite firework display that was sure to follow. Bonfire Night had always been one of Regulus's favourite holidays since he was a little kid. He loved the heat from the bonfire, the tasty food, and most of all, the magnificent and magical firecrackers.
So he had been only too excited to bring his boyfriend to the park that was near Regulus's home at Grimmauld Place. Multiple cloaking spells had been used to mask a whole section of the park, so that nearby Muggles wouldn't accidentally stumble upon the magical firework display. Everyone Regulus had spoken to had promised it would be a brilliant evening, and all he wanted to do was share it with the most important person in his life.
But Barty didn't get out much. He rarely left the studio apartment that he lived alone in not far from Regulus, and he was hardly excited at the prospect of Bonfire night. In fact, he looked completely unaware of the event at all.
"Bonfire Night?" Barty repeated blandly back to Regulus, when he opened the door to his apartment. He was shirtless and peering suspiciously through a gap in the door, as if he expected someone to jump from behind Regulus any minute. His skin looked translucent and pale, and there were dark bags under his eyes. He combed a hand through his straw-like hair, looking away. "I don't know. I mean, I don't know what I have planned for tonight just yet."
Regulus rolled his eyes and pushed the door open, forcing Barty out of the way. He entered the apartment and closed the door being him, and found himself momentarily stunned at the sight of the apartment.
"What have I done now?" groaned Barty at Regulus's expression.
It was a complete mess. His bedcovers were strewn back, as if he had just climbed out of it, despite it being three in the afternoon. The kitchen worktop was littered with rubbish and every single pot and pan that he owned. The oven was filthy and covered in old food, and Regulus didn't need to look in the refrigerator to know that most, or all, of the food in there would be past its sell by date. He found himself rolling his dark eyes again expressively, and turning back to Barty. "How could you let it get in this state? I helped you clean up just three days ago." It was a common occurrence; Barty would have his good days and bad days. On the good days, he was always socialising and out of the house, and his apartment would be kept in pristine state. But on his bad days, Barty struggled to so much as get out of bed. He would drag himself to the toilet and to the kitchen for food, but that was about it. He became completely dysfunctional. Regulus lived for Barty's good days, even if they were becoming a lot more sparse than the bad days, and he was beginning to worry if Barty's mental health was beginning to unravel again.
Barty shrugged, and headed over to the bed. Before he could sit down, Regulus grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet, pressing a swift kiss to his mouth gently. He looked into Barty's brown eyes intently, as much as he tried to avoid eye contact. "Would you tell me if there was something really getting to you?" Regulus asked, cupping his face in his hands. Barty shrugged again, and pulled his chin out of Regulus's hold, throwing himself down on the bed. Regulus pursed his lips. "We're going to that bonfire," he insisted. "You've been holed up in here for days. You're going crazy."
"Already there," muttered Barty, but he didn't pursue the matter.
The scream pierced right through him. It was the loudest, shrillest noise that he had ever heard in his life, and it vibrated within him, resonating in the deepest, darkest depths of his soul.
("Barty, look at that one! It's amazing!" Regulus's voice sounded so far away.)
He can see her eyes now. It's dark, but they're glittering, wide and fearful as they look up at him. He looks down, and he can see his wand in his hand. He's aiming it at the woman, and the man beside her is looking at her, trying to appear confident. He says something, but he doesn't know what it is. All he knows is that he is so filled with hatred, he is ready to let it out on anyone, even this poor woman in front of him.
(Regulus is laughing loudly beside him, clutching Barty's hand through their woolly gloves.)
A hollow cackle emits from beside him. Oh, how he hates that vile woman. Bellatrix shoves him out of the way, and points her own wand at the woman in front of Barty, and a jet of light flies out and strikes her in the chest. Once again she is screaming, her eyes screwed up in pain. The man beside her begs Bellatrix to stop, but she turns on him next.
(Someone bustles past Barty, jolting the cup of hot chocolate that he was holding to the floor. It splashes over his gloves and there is heat from the liquid, but he seems so numb to it.)
Bellatrix turns her wand on Barty, and there is fire in her menacing eyes. "Do it," she orders. "Do it, or you can bet that you won't see poor little Regulus again. The Dark Lord won't be impressed when he knows what's going on there." So Barty closes his eyes briefly, allowing the fear of losing the one person he loves the most to blind his hatred. When he opens his eyes again, the woman is breathing heavily. She's staring up at him with her pain-riddled eyes, waiting. He raises his wand.
("Hey Buddy, what is wrong with you?" someone asks. Regulus turns and looks at Barty, noticing that his eyes are vacant, and he is staring into space, completely unaware that he is covered in hot cocoa.)
He takes a breath, feeling the torture word rising to his lips.
("Barty?" Regulus asks. He sounds worried. His hands come up to Barty's arms, gripping them, trying to get his attention.)
"Crucio," Barty whispers, and once again the woman is screaming. She screams forever, the noise filling him to the brim. He can't hear anything else, just the white noise that surrounds the horrible sound of her tortured wail.
"Barty, stop screaming!" Regulus cried. The people around them in the crowd had hushed and created a circle, and Regulus was kneeling on the floor beside Barty. He was curled into a ball on his side in the dirt, screaming his head off. His eyes were wide and vacant, staring at something that no one else seemed to be able to see.
Finally, recognition seemed to swim back into his pupils, and he sat up, scrambling away from Regulus. "Why did you bring me here?" he gasped, clutching his throat. He was panicking. "I want to be home. Take me home!" he cried, and Regulus acted fast. He grabbed Barty's arm, and they disapparated.
Ten minutes later, Regulus had tucked Barty up into his bed, and was looking out of the window of Barty's apartment.
He had never been able to deal with torturing the Longbottoms, as much as he tried to harden himself to it. Having his mind meddled with by his father hadn't helped, along with being trapped under an invisibility cloak with no-one but a house elf for a friend. But Regulus had managed to get Barty away from his mad father, and had hoped desperately that eventually Barty would just start acting normally again.
But it looked like it just wasn't going to happen, not without constant help and reassurance. As Regulus looked back at his boyfriend, who was sleeping soundly, his arms wrapped around the pillow that Regulus normally used, he sighed and smiled sadly.
No matter what, he would always be there for Barty.
