Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter.
The night was dark, but it was especially dark inside Number Twelve Grimmald Place, feeling almost like a tomb. The only light came from a few candles that flickered along the hallway. Regulus Black sat on the stairs, carefully out of reach of the flickering light from the small flames, hidden in the shadows. He felt safe here in the shadows, knowing that there were no expectant eyes to watch and analyze his every move. He leaned back against the stair behind him and let his arms rest causally over his knees. His head sagged to one side, just brushing the wall with his cheek. His cold, dull eyes were trained straight ahead, gazing into more shadows.
Despite his relaxed appearance, Regulus was alert, listening intently to the commotion in the room to his left. Only the light from the room was visible through the bars of the railing, the occupants were concealed. However as the argument escalated Regulus suspected he could have heard them just fine from his room. His father and Sirius were fighting. This was nothing new, but it seemed to be happening more frequently lately and with more intensity. Regulus winced as his own name came up. The perfect son. Like anyone in this house needed a reminder, he thought bitterly to himself. The name caused his father's voice to hold a hint of pride while it caused Regulus to simply be reminded of the pressure of all these expectations. The mention of his younger brother's name had only angered Sirius further, which could have easily been predicted and was most likely deliberate.
He hated the weight that his name brought. Regulus did not understand how, at such a young age, his parents seemed to favor him over his elder brother. Had they sensed that Sirius would not be the perfect son they hoped for? Had something he done very young tipped them off to this? Or was it because their parents seemed to dote more upon the baby of the family that had caused Sirius to rebel? Regulus suspected he would never know. All he did know was that somehow, with no conscious effort, he had taken their parents' affection. And when he saw how Sirius was treated, Regulus had decided that he did not want to follow in his brother's footsteps. He did not want his parents to resent him and he did not want to be beaten, like his brother sometimes was. So instead he did his best to please his parents. This only distanced him from his brother even more.
Sirius began to switch his technique, going from defending his choices to threats. It was not unusual for Sirius to threaten to leave the family. Regulus remembered such threats from as far back as before Hogwarts was ever in the picture. But somehow tonight, the threats to leave seemed more... determined. Realistic. This was no longer a ten year old threatening for attention. This was now a sixteen year old, desperate for a way out of a place that caused him real pain.
Regulus became still as stone in his shadowed cocoon. He could not really remember a time when he had gotten along with his brother. His brother openly defied their parents, and Regulus had simply slipped into a routine of pleasing them. Sirius had resented him for this. All this was common knowledge. However, Regulus did realize that Sirius made things at home easier for him. Sirius was rebellious and openly everything that their family stood against. Standing next to him, it was easy for Regulus to look like the ideal son.
The fight was escalating more than usual. Their voices were louder, angrier. Sirius' even seemed to hold a hint of desperation. His threats to leave were growing more determined. All Regulus could do was sit and listen, wait for it to be over. He knew interfering would only make things worse. He began to glaze over the words, not really comprehending as such as listening to the tone of the voices as the words seemed to fade away. They were all words he had heard before anyway. He did not want to hear his own name brought into the fight again.
Then, very suddenly, all conversation stopped. Regulus straightened his head and let his eyes wander to the entrance of the sitting room. A large figure darkened the doorway for a moment before disappearing in the direction of the kitchen. It appeared Orion Black had finished the argument with his first born – probably with a curse Regulus had not heard – and was off to get a strong drink.
Regulus counted the seconds, which turned into minutes, until Sirius finally emerged from the room. Regulus was surprised to see that his brother seemed unbalanced, perhaps disoriented, knocking against the doorway as he stumbled into the hallways. Not moving his head, Regulus let his eyes follow Sirius as he moved to the base of the very stairs his younger brother was perched on, then carefully ascended, seeming to watch his footing more than usual. He held on to the railing and passed the younger Black without even seeming to notice he was even there.
Regulus was still a few minutes longer. He suddenly felt very heavy, as if he couldn't lift his own body. Deep down he knew what was about to happen. And he knew everything would be different. But he did not want to face it. Not just yet.
Finally Regulus knew he couldn't sit here any longer. The dark, quiet house was beginning to press in on him. He dragged himself to his feet, then moved up the stairs, letting his legs carry him where his mind would not admit he wanted to go. He stopped just outside Sirius' bedroom door, which was left slightly ajar, apparently in his brother's haste. He could hear rummaging going on just inside. He took a deep breath and nudged the door until it opened.
Regulus' eyes wandered the walls of his older brother's room, plastered with images that kept his parents from ever setting foot in there. Gryffindor was displayed proudly everywhere. Regulus could not understand why Sirius felt the need to be so blunt about it.
His gaze rested on his brother's form last. Sirius was leaning over his open trunk, tossing clothes haphazardly into it. From his angle, Regulus could see the blood dripping from Sirius' left ear, explaining the balance issue he had observed earlier.
"Sirius?" Regulus said quietly.
Sirius whipped around, his wand already out. But the movement was clearly not the best choice in his condition as his eyes unfocused for a moment and he swayed to one side. He found himself a moment later, glaring at Regulus as he lowered his wand. He was not happy to see him, but at least he did not seem to want to physically injure him.
"Get out of here," he growled as he went back to toss things from his floor into his trunk.
Regulus watched quietly for a moment, making no move to help him, but also making no move to stop him. He was simply a silent spectator standing in the doorway.
"Where will you go?" Regulus asked finally as Sirius seemed to be nearing the end of the rushed packing.
Sirius slammed the lid on his trunk loudly, snapping the clasps before he turned to his younger brother. His eyes were a stormy gray, alive with anger. Regulus met his gaze with dull green eyes, void of emotion.
"What the hell to you care?" he demanded, though he did not appear to be expecting an answer. "I'd rather sleep in the gutter than stay here one more night." He reached back and grabbed his trunk, pulling it forward. But his balance was still off and he pitched to one side. Pure instinct took over as Regulus reacted to his brother beginning to fall. He took a few steps into the room and reached out, catching Sirius and steadying him. But Sirius looked less than grateful at his brother's interference, and Regulus immediately released him.
"You're not really in any shape to go out," Regulus said carefully.
Sirius almost growled at him. "Nothing could keep me in this house. Get out of my way." He pushed past Regulus, dragging his trunk behind him. Regulus followed him back out into the hallway, stopping just outside the door as Sirius started down the stairs. "You want to be the oldest son of the Black family?" he tossed over his shoulder, not waiting for a response. "You got it. You can be an only child, Regulus. Enjoy." His voice was flat as he disappeared into the shadows of the landing.
Regulus watched the shadows a moment longer. Then he turned back to Sirius' room, strangely empty now except for the decorations his parents called obscene. Regulus wondered how long it would take them to take the posters and hangings down and truly leave his brother's room empty. Regulus reached out and quietly closed the door, as if he could protect it from being consumed by the rest of the house, as if he could protect the last bit of proof that his brother was here.
As the reality began to sink in – Sirius would no longer be around – Regulus was aware that things would be a lot more complicated around here. He would have to work harder to prove that he was worthy of his parents' praise. He was in such a delicate position. He was held so high in his parents' eyes, flying high on paper wings which could give out so easily, that the fall could prove fatal. He would have to be even more careful with every move he made.