Warnings: Muggle AU. Future RB/SB with a 90% chance of RL/SB (I just can't help myself) coming out of the NE, 12 mph. This will be a little dark and I will be conscious of warning readers if something squick-worthy comes up.
Notes: Idk how many people are actually interested in a fic like this, but I was feeling 'cesty, so I'll leave it up to any readers. If you're interested in seeing more, leave a comment. If I get enough (idk like five?) I'll keep this one up, otherwise I'll probably let it decay in my "to be written" folder forevermore.
Chapter One
"The road to hell is paved with good intentions."
oOo
"Regulus…wake up!"
An urgent hand is shaking him from his sleep. He flings his arm wildly at the nuisance, his eyes still closed, making connection and pushing the hand away roughly.
"Go away, Sirius," he says sleepily and burrows further into the warm embrace of his pillow. Cold air assaults him as his blanket is pulled from the bed in one grand gesture. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he screeches, fully awake now and glaring at his older brother who is standing beside his bed.
"Shhh, you'll wake the whole house," Sirius hisses, throwing a nervous glance over his shoulder.
He notices, through his sleep fogged brain, that Sirius is dressed, not in sleep clothes, but in jeans and a t-shirt. He is also wearing a jacket and an anxious expression, a rucksack strapped to his back. Regulus's own rucksack is dangling from his hand.
"What's going on?" he asks, sitting up and reaching for his watch on the bedside table. It's just after three in the morning. Sirius deposits the rucksack into his lap and moves quickly over to the wardrobe and begins pulling clothing out at random. "Sirius?"
"We have to get out of here, Reg," he says, throwing shirts and various items of clothing over his arm.
"What do you mean we have to get out of here?" Regulus asks, still sitting in his bed. What the hell was Sirius going on about? Sirius dumps the armload of clothes onto the bed and moves over to the writing desk by the window.
"Pack those clothes in the bag. Do you still keep your money in this drawer?" he asks, pulling the second drawer from the top and lifting the small piece of wood that replaced the bottom. He watches Sirius pocket a wad of cash.
"What are you doing?" he asks angrily, rising from the bed finally and moving to stand beside his brother.
"Shut up!" Sirius whispers and Regulus is thrown at the look of fear in his brother's eyes.
True concern finally hits him. "Sirius, what's going on? Why do we have to leave?" he asks tremulously. He's never seen his brother this agitated, it's late, and, if Regulus is putting two and two together, Sirius is talking about running away.
Sirius runs a hand through his hair and places his hands on Regulus shoulders, looking him directly in eye. "Reg, I promise I will explain but we have to leave. Now. Get dressed, pack your bag and anything you think you might need. We're not coming back here, do you understand? We can't ever come back."
oOo
Fifteen minutes later, Regulus is helping Sirius wheel his new motorbike up the long drive to the street. "Don't want them to hear," Sirius explains when they pull it from garage. They walk in silence, only the crunching sound of gravel and the occasional owl making any noise in the night.
Regulus glances back behind him at the dark windows of the grand manor house. Having never seen it at this hour, it looks surprisingly empty and menacing. Or maybe he's just a little too wound up. Sirius isn't making much sense and, though he would never let Sirius know it, he's starting to feel a little frightened.
They reach the street and Sirius hands his rucksack to his brother "Need you to hold onto it for now," Sirius says as he fits the only helmet onto Regulus's head and fastens the clutch under his chin. When he's satisfied it is secure, he throws a leg over the bike and helps Regulus onto the seat behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Hang on," he says over his shoulder and kicks the motor to life.
Regulus clutches his brother tightly as they speed off into the night. He glances back again at the dark house growing smaller and smaller in distance. The air is cold and stinging his cheeks and he buries his face in the fabric of Sirius's leather jacket. Anxiety is twisting in his gut but he trusts his brother, so he hugs him tightly and puts his faith in the boy who is taking him away.
oOo
They drive for what feels like hours, stopping once to refuel and grab a quick snack. Regulus still has no idea what they were running from or why. When the sky begins to lighten, just as Regulus is beginning to nod off, Sirius pulls off the road. He leads them into woods, just off the main road, deep enough so they can no longer see beyond trees. They reached a small clearing and throw their bags onto the ground. Sirius sits against the base of a tree, his elbows on his knees, clutching at his hair. Regulus sits beside him and waits.
"I'm sorry, Reg," he says finally. "I just couldn't stay a moment longer. I don't know if bringing you with me was the right thing to do but I couldn't just leave you. Not when…"
"Not when what?"
Sirius shrugs out of his jacket and holds his arm out for Regulus to see. It is bandaged but he can see dots of bright red blood seeping through the white cotton. Carefully, Sirius unwraps the bandage until Regulus can see mutilated flesh on his forearm. The wound looks angry, blistering in an interesting pattern. It almost looked like…
"A skull. Burned into my skin," Sirius says, his voice shaking with some curious emotion Regulus can't place. "They fucking burned me, Reg. Happy seventeenth birthday, Sirius. Here's a motorbike oh and, by the way, we're going to mark you with this hot iron. Hope you don't mind."
"But why? Why would mum and dad do such a thing?" he asks, trying unsuccessfully to look anywhere but the mark on his brother's arm. The sight of it is making him sick. Sirius is quiet as he wraps the bandage around his arm once more and Regulus is grateful he can no longer see it.
"Mum and dad…they're in some kind of cult," Sirius begins. "Apparently, seventeen is when they initiate you into their ranks. Remember after dinner? I wanted to go out with some friends but they told me there was something special they had planned and wouldn't let me?"
Regulus nods, they'd left him behind and he'd been more than a little angry. So what if it wasn't his birthday. He hated being excluded.
"They took me to this secret room they have under the house. A bunch of people were there wearing masks and robes, family and friends of the family. They kept going on about purifying our blood and how it was my birthright. They gave me something funny to drink. I told them I didn't want it but they did it anyway."
Sirius jumps to his feet suddenly, pacing the ground deliberately. He points at Regulus with one accusing finger. "They would have done it to you too in two years time! I couldn't let that happen," he says angrily.
As he absorbs this new information, Regulus does his best to remain level-headed but the image of his mother and father, always so refined, so proper, branding Sirius, making his brother scream and bleed, is turning his stomach. He takes several deep breaths. "Okay," he says finally, feeling a little calmer. "Okay. What are we going to do now?"
"Dunno, haven't gotten that far yet," Sirius admits, flexing and testing the fingers on his injured arm.
Regulus rolls his eyes. So typically Sirius. Always leaping into action without thinking for one minute about where he is going to land. "Wonderful. Really, Sirius, just splendid. I suppose we'll just live in the forest for the rest of our lives?"
Sirius brandishes his injured arm angrily once more. "I suppose you'd like to go back to this then?"
"I'd like to live to see seventeen at all! Never mind what they'll do to me when the time comes," he shoots back. He's tired and cranky and though he's doing his best to remain calm, panic is bubbling beneath the surface. They are alone. With nothing and no one but each other, and while Regulus loves his brother and trusts him, he also has known Sirius to be impulsive and stubborn. Worrisome qualities at the best of times, it makes him even more nervous that Sirius does not have a plan.
And the sarcasm is not helping. "Aww, is wittle Reggie scared to be away from home without his mummy?" Sirius says in a baby voice, pouting his lips.
He wants to make those lips bleed. "When the alternative is being in the care of your oh so capable hands, yes!"
Sirius looks ready to throw another nasty taunt but, after another second, he deflates, the anger leaving him in a long, tired sigh. He hunkers down beside Regulus, and begins speaking in a much more sober tone.
"I'm going to take care of us," he says, and Regulus is unable to prevent a derisive scoff from escaping. He feels a warm hand grip his chin, forcing him to look in to steely grey eyes, so much like his own, full of earnest hope and determination. "I promise. You don't have to be scared—"
"I'm not scared," Regulus insists, knocking the hand away, and he hates how whiny and petulant he sounds.
Sirius is snorting with amused laughter now. "Liar." He places an arm around his neck bringing their foreheads together. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, Reg. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Not mum and dad. Not anyone."