For Amber, who request several pairings in the gift-exchange challenge of 2013; but Regulus/Barty Jr looked fun. I used the prompts: coffee and cigarettes, angst, please, and there's themes of the art of growing up in here.

I hope you enjoy this!

Word count: 3688

Rate T for language and implied sex scenes.

part i: the beginning:

trying not to love him only gets you so far

You're sitting on the edge of the Astronomy Tower, with your feet dangling off the side. You take a drag of your cigarette, and exhale the smoke slowly. The nicotine calms the ever-so-slight shakes that have started to form in your hands. And it takes your mind off the tattoo blemishing your too pale skin. If you're being honest, your loyalty to your family is the only reason you have the Mark in the first place.

Taking another drag, you blow out carefully, forming a smoke ring. You hear the door open but you ignore it, choosing to take another drag instead. When you blow out another smoke ring, the intruder makes themselves known.

"How'd you do that?" Barty Crouch Jr asks, taking the spot next to you. He's barely a year younger than you. He's smaller than you as well, standing at barely 5'6, but he's a damn good dueller.

You take another drag, and exhale in his face. He coughs slightly and his eyes water as he blinks back the burn. "Practice," you sneer bitterly.

But he just looks up at you with brown eyes, nearly transfixed as another smoke ring forms in the air. You hesitate momentarily before offering the cigarette to him, even though you can tell he's never smoked before. Eying it, he ponders whether to take it. A few seconds later, he takes the cigarette and inhales deeply. His eyes water again and he starts hacking.

A grimace crosses your face at the sight. You grab the cigarette out of his hands and roll your eyes. "Fool," you growl. But the word is too low to be heard over his coughing. Once his breathing is under control again, you tilt your head and look at him through glassy eyes.

"Fool," you repeat, your tone condescending. "That's not how you smoke the first time."

You motion him closer. He is within a hair's breath and surprisingly trusting of you. You inhale deeply and press your lips against his, forcing the smoke into his lungs. Pulling back, you watch as he exhales the smoke without coughing.

You repeat the action several more time before you move away from him. Lighting up another cigarette, you offer it to him. This time when he takes a drag, he doesn't cough and his eyes don't water. You spend the next few minutes passing the cigarette back and forth, in companionable silence.

.

The Astronomy Tower quickly becomes your safe haven. The Slytherin common room is filled with those that are obsessed with the dark arts and Volde – the Dark Lord, you correct yourself – the Dark Lord's rise to power. And you don't want to be around that, you think as you exhale smoke.

You hear footsteps so light that they can only be one person – Barty. Internally, you sigh in frustration. Since you showed him how to smoke two months ago, he has been following you around school like a lost puppy and it's been slowly irritating you.

"Regulus," he whispers, his voice nearly angelic. And that boy is rather innocent too.

You look up through hazy eyes, and sneer at him. "Fuck off, Barty," you growl because you're in no mood to deal with him tonight.

He takes the seat next to you anyways. "Thought you might want some company," he says, pretending he didn't hear you. He does that quite often, and most of the time, you're fine with it. He's not the worst company you could have. But tonight, it annoys the hell out of you.

Giving him an icy look, you snarl, "I don't need any." Each word is deliberately pronounced, trying to get the idea of your independence through his thick skull. "So fuck off," you add. And your face twisted into a smirk.

He glares at you. "No need to be a prick," he says harshly. Wordlessly, he gets up and disappears through the door.

You flick the remainder of your cigarette off the Astronomy Tower, and light up another one. The nicotine reaches your brain, and you exhale. Some part of you understands the boy. He just wants to feel wanted, needed, loved; all the things that his father would – and could – never show him. So he attaches himself to the only people who show him any interest.

You know this, you understand this, because you lived that life, you were that person. You clung to your brother because he showed you affection, unlike your own parents. But, like everything else in your life, that connection with your brother was forever severed. He left you. He left you alone with your uncaring parents that put too much pressure on you, forcing you to do things you never wanted to do.

And a part of you wants to hate your brother for doing that, but you can't and don't. Instead, you became numb and obedient, smoking cigarettes out of spite – and just maybe need. Hating yourself for not being stronger.

That's why you push Barty away. Because he reminds you too much of yourself.

.

He appears the next night, as you sit in your usual spot. Surprisingly, there's no cigarette in your hands tonight. Your mind is completely clear for the first time in a while.

"Regulus," he greets. You think it's almost a sin to have a voice as gentle as his.

You glance up, meeting his brown eyes. "Barty," you say, drawing out his name slightly.

He takes a seat next to you. And the silence falls. He takes out his own pack of cigarette that he got from only Merlin knows where, and offers you one before he lights his. You shake your head, because you don't want nicotine clouding your mind tonight.

He shrugs and takes a drag of his cigarette.

You listen to his inhales and exhales, trying to forget what you have to do over your Easter break. It's your first official task, and though it's not very dangerous, you're not that pleased. And you're thankful for the company, even though you'll never admit it aloud, because you can sooth yourself with his breaths.

You stand up to head back to your dorm, to take a dreamless sleeping draught. Before you can open the door, he pins you to it, even though he's a good three inches shorter than you. You can't recall hearing him stand up or walking behind you.

He soundly kisses you. Unlike the mere brush of lips you shared while getting him used to the burn of the smoke, this kiss is desperate, all teeth and tongue. And his fingers are curled in your hair, pulling at it. He tastes of cigarette and coffee, and as much as you want to pull away, you don't.

Because there's something in the way that he kisses you that you like. You feel needed again, and it's been years since you last felt like that. So you kiss back just as urgently, trying to fool yourself into believing that you care about him. But you know you don't.

.

He's lying naked on your chest as you light up a cigarette. The pale green light of the lake shines on him, illuminating his pale form. He's beautiful, and you can't deny it. You take a drag of your cigarette.

He looks up at you with his brown eyes. From this angle, he looks innocent – but he's not, you know this because you stole that a few weeks ago. "Do you love me, Regulus?"

The question catches you off guard, but it doesn't surprise you because you've been playing a dangerous game with him. You don't answer him straight way, which you know worries him. You finish your cigarette first.

"No," you answer simply.

He immediately moves as far away from you as he possibly can without falling off the bed. "I thought you did," he whispers, almost frantically.

You sneer at him. "Then you are fool. I told you that I don't do love, Barty. And you were still foolish enough to think this was anything remotely like love," you state clearly. "That is your own fault."

Hurt flashes in his eyes before he glares icily at you through the unshed tears. "Fuck you," he growls as he puts back on his clothes.

You want to point out that you've already fucked, but you stay silent. You know when to pick a fight, and that's a fight you don't want to start at this moment, because he's likely to hex you. You watch him leave in silence before lighting up another cigarette.

And you want to hate yourself, because that boy clearly feels an attachment to you, but you can't. You never promised to love him. You never promised to be his. You promise the night, and the night only. And you thought you made yourself perfectly clear.

.

Despite his anger, he comes to your bed the next night. He kisses you desperately, just like the first time, and you let him. And you undress him, taking whatever he's willing to give – nothing more, nothing less – but giving nothing in return.

And as you lean against your headboard afterwards, Barty curls up next to you. "Regulus?" he asks, his voice still slightly hoarse. You look down at him through long lashes. Obviously, he takes a go ahead, because he continues. "Why don't you love?" The unspoken me is clearly there, though.

You blink at him. The question caught you completely off guard, but you just barely keep a collected façade. You want to sneer at him, but the innocent, unknowing look on his face prevents you from doing that. Instead, you sigh aloud.

"I just don't."

It doesn't answer his question, and it's not supposed to, but it's the closest thing to answer that he'll get from you for now. But it doesn't matter to him, evidently, because he takes the response without question. He presses his lips against yours and murmurs his goodbyes.

.

You're sitting under a tree near the Black Lake, when Barty finds you. You aren't exactly hiding from him, but then again, you aren't making yourself easy to find. He sprawls out on the ground, and just looks at the sky in silence.

You watch the waves kiss the shore line almost lovingly, dreading what tomorrow will bring. Tomorrow, you become a full-fledged Death Eater. Up until now, you've been given stupid jobs because you're still in school. Tomorrow, you set out into the real world, into your chosen side of the war.

Barty breaks the silence and brings you out of your thoughts. "Have you ever loved?"

Tearing your gaze away from the water, you look at him. He looks paler in the moonlight than he usually does, almost making him look angelic. You shrug your shoulder. You're not sure how to explain a brotherly love to a person without siblings because there's a difference between sibling love and real love, and you learned that at a young age.

So you opt for the easy answer – "No." But he raises his eyebrow at you questioningly. "Love makes you weak," you inform him, meeting his stare. "And I'm not weak."

But it's a lie. Even brotherly love is love, and you have loved, therefore you have been weak. You don't tell him that though. You've spent too many years mending the damage caused by your brother's departure. He left you because he was selfish. And you wanted to hate him, but you hate yourself for depending on him and his protection so much.

There must be something he sees in your eyes that you are unknowingly unable to hide, because he just nods and remains silent.

.

part ii: the middle:

fighting for all the wrong reasons

It's your first major mission, watching as other Death Eaters torture information out of the targets. You stand in the background, alert and focused, when Bellatrix comes to stands in front of you, a twisted smile on her face. She points to the couple kneeling on the ground. "It's your turn."

As much as you want to say that you weren't expecting this, you cannot. So you take three steps forwards and put as much hatred as you can behind your next word – "Crucio!"

The woman's scream pierces your ears, but you don't let up. You refuse to fail this test that Bella is giving you. This is your test of loyalty, and for your family's honor, you continue to think thoughts of yourself falling into love. Because Barty has managed to steal your frozen heart and it makes you feel weak.

You're weak for loving him, and it causes you to hate yourself more than you already do because you're pathetic.

Finally, Rodolphus puts his hand on your wand. "Enough," he murmurs, but there's no mistaking the demanding tone. You lower your wand and raise an eyebrow at Bella, who just smiles wickedly at you.

"Kill her, Regulus."

Without hesitation, you raise your wand once more and utter the two words that will end the woman's life – "Avada Kedavra." Her eyes widen with fear as the spell hits her. You give Bella a smirk and return to your previous spot.

.

You wake him that night. You Apparate to his house, and demand the House Elf to show you to his room. And as soon as the House Elf is dismissed, you push Barty against the wall, kissing him roughly. You don't want to be reminded of the murder you committed just an hour before. So you lose yourself in the kisses, lose yourself in him.

It's like he senses your desperation, because he allows you to handle him roughly, rougher than usual. He gives himself to you, and you take everything that he can offer. He gives and gives and gives to you, until there's nothing left.

He lays his head on your shoulder, curling himself into you even though he knows you'll never stay. And he murmurs good night before falling asleep. Despite being thoroughly exhausted and spent, you can't get to sleep.

You trace the bruises that are starting to form on his oh so pale skin, watching as goosebumps form as you move. But he doesn't wake up. And Merlin, you should leave already, because you're getting attached, and that's never a good thing. So you untangle yourself from him.

You get dressed quietly and, without a backward glance, leave his bedroom.

.

It becomes a routine during the summer months. You attend to your duties during the day and seek Barty out at night. Neither of you speak about it; even though he knows why you appear in his bedroom, fuck him roughly and wordlessly leave.

You watch him fall asleep after a particularly tiring night. Unable to help yourself, you run your fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his face. As he sleeps, he wears a small smile and it reminds you of the innocence that he has yet to lose.

And damn it all to hell because you wish that he will never join the ranks of the Death Eaters. Because the blood of your victims stains your hands and you don't want blood to stain his. It takes a toll on a soul; you know this well. But you know that he'll join anyways to feel needed in a way that you cannot – and will not – provide.

You murmur, "I'm sorry," into his hair that he doesn't hear before getting up and dressing yourself. With one last glance, you leave.

.

Summer's nearly over when the Dark Lord requests a House Elf. Bella jumps at the chance and offers yours for his service. And even though you want to deny him, you don't dare. Your loyalty is swaying, has been swaying, but it hasn't dropped yet.

You pace your bedroom, waiting for Kreacher to return from the mission with the Dark Lord. You hear a crack and you turn to see your House Elf, lying on the ground, gasping for breath. Frozen, you stand there, wondering what to do. Finally, a goblet of water appears and Kreacher drinks from it greedily.

As soon as he is ready, you demand to know exactly what the Dark Lord had him do. You listen closely, getting angrier by the moment. When the tale is done, you Apparate to the first place you can think of – Barty's.

(This is where the blinding loyalty comes to a shattering halt).

.

He falls asleep easily afterward, as always. And you're left awake, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Tonight, though, you can't help but think of the object the Dark Lord hidden in at the cave. You can guess what the object is by Kreacher's description of it.

The Dark Lord is trying to become immortal, and you cannot let that happen. Because if he does become immortal, Barty will surely follow, will be blindingly loyalty to the Dark Lord, like you were. And you don't want that, not for him.

Making up your mind, you kiss the top of his fair hair and murmur the words you'll never say to his face – "I love you."

Because love makes people do stupid things, like sacrificing themselves to save others.

.

part iii: the ending:

who you are hates who you've been

Kreacher is at your side, begging you not to go through with it - "Please, Master Regulus, don't do it. Let Kreacher do it instead." – but you ignore it.

"Whatever I say, however much I beg, force me to drink the entire thing, Kreacher," you say to him. He looks like he's about to protest again, so you cut across him. "This is not up for discussion. That was an order, and I expect you to follow it."

You scoop the emerald liquid in the goblet you brought, and bring it to your lips. However, you hesitate, lowering the cup. "Kreacher," you say softly. "Once the liquid is gone, I want you to place the fake necklace in the bowl and destroy the Horcrux. Then get yourself out of here. Go back to my mother, and tell her absolutely nothing of this day. Anything I say after this, you are to disregard. That is my final order to you."

Kreacher looks at you, his blue eyes wide. He looks as if he wants to say no, but his loyalty to you is unwavering. "Yes, Master Regulus."

Once he says this, you bring the cup back to your lips and swallow as much as you can in one gulp. It burns going down, and leaves your mouth dry. Your hands start to tremble as if you haven't had a fix of nicotine in days. Shakily, you scoop another goblet full and drink that as well, more slowly than the first cup.

Your vision becomes blurry as you attempt to scoop the third goblet full. In your efforts, you drop the goblet, which falls to the ground with a thud. "Please, no more, Kreacher," you beg, as the goblet touches your mouth. Merlin, when did your mouth become so dry?

"Kreacher is sorry, Master Regulus. Master ordered Kreacher to make you drink," he tells you, forcing your mouth open. When it opens, he pours the liquid down your parched throat.

You close your eyes tightly, trying to get some focus back in them. "You were always perfect, weren't you, Regulus," you hear your brother snarl at you. You open your eyes quickly, to see your brother at sixteen; he's wearing the clothes he ran away in – black Muggle jumper, jeans, and sneakers – and his hair is shaggy. Merlin, you miss the sight of him. "The perfect son, the perfect Black, the perfect Pureblood," he continues.

"Please stop," you whimper, unsure on whether you're talking to Kreacher, Sirius or the pain. You feel the metal of the goblet touch your lips and you give in to the liquid.

But nothing you could be saying stop to does. "If only Mum could see you now. She'd feel betrayed. You always did want to please her, after all."

"Water," you cry out.

A cup is against your lips instead, and as you try to beg Kreacher not to, he forces the liquid down your throat. A new round of pain emits and your throat is still parched. You're so weak that you can't get up off the ground anymore.

And in front, a new person appears, taking Sirius' place. Standing there, with hurt flashing in his brown eyes, is Barty. He gives you a fierce look. "Why can't you love me?" he demands. There's nothing sweet in his voice, and his stance is defensive. "All I did was love you. I was loyal to you. And you couldn't do the same. You wouldn't love me."

Tears sting your eyes, but you refuse to shed them.

"Master," a voice breaks in. "It be done."

You blink once and beg for water once more. Then you realize the water of the lake surround the island. Crawling toward the bank, you move to scoop out water to drink.

"Master! No!" Kreacher calls out.

But it's too late. The moment your hand touches the water, something darts out and grabs it. And you have no strength left to fight it. You can only allow yourself to be dragged into the lake. As the light of the surface disappears and you can hold your breath no longer, you mouth the words, "I'm sorry" to no one in particular.

.

part iv: the aftermaths

i don't believe this world can't be saved

You became a silent hero that night. Your beliefs, which had been teetering on the edge for ages, finally shattered and you knew what you had to do. In the end, love was what drove you to the cave. Love of your brother and love of Barty, because neither deserved to live in a world like the one Voldemort was trying to create.

Love made people do stupid things, and you learned this lesson the hard way.

.

A/n – The lyrics in part one are from "Trying not to love you" by Nickelback; lyrics in part two are from "Fight for all the wrong reasons" by Nickelback; lyrics in part three are from "Who I am hates who I've been" by Reliant K; lyrics in part four are from "World so cold" by 12 Stones.

Written for the Slytherin Boot Camp. Prompt used: Astronomy Tower.

Also written for the Western Zodiac comp – Taurus: stubborn, tends to maintain a well-earn reputation, and only lets people as close as they allow.

So many thanks to Paula and Sylvia for beta-ing this for me.

Please, please don't favorite without reviewing.