Yeah, so life kicked RaeynnBeau and I in the ass this past year, meaning she took forever to get her chapter written, and I took forever after that because I had to send off an article. Anyway, this chapter follows the third in "Strip My Mind".
This was not the worst situation that Regulus had ever gotten himself into. After all, there was that time with the inferi…
Didn't matter. Had to hide. Yes. Hide from Sirius.
Regulus took a deep breath that was meant to be calming but turned out to just contribute to his anxiety. What if Sirius had heard him breathing loudly? His elder brother might think someone snuck into his flat (true), maybe even a Death Eater (eh) trying to kill him (false). Thus, Regulus remained frozen in place behind the couch, waiting for his brother to make a move.
After a few tense moments, Sirius started talking to himself. Still somewhat deranged by the painkiller-alcohol combination, Regulus popped his head above the couch to make sure the idiot wasn't bleeding out or hallucinating due to brain damage or something else possibly related to hitting one's head rather solidly on a coffee table. Thankfully, Sirius appeared to be just talking to himself like he normally did. Regulus rolled his eyes. He should have expected Sirius to be completely unaffected by a blow to the head, clearly.
However, now that Sirius was attempting to remove himself from the floor, Regulus quickly ducked back down behind the couch. So, apparition was out now that Sirius was conscious. Well, maybe not, but then again, he probably didn't want Sirius thinking he was having auditory hallucinations if he could help it. Sirius would end up bothering Potter or Lupin or Lily about it, and while Regulus thought the bothering of Potter would be hilarious, Lupin was an okay bloke, and Lily would kill him (it didn't matter that she thought he was dead; she would find a way).
The "fwoosh" sound that disrupted Regulus' line of thought indicated that Sirius had managed to scale the couch again. The younger man considered paying attention to the ramblings and decided that yes, it was a good idea. Sirius continued: "the minute you begin thinking sleep is better than alcohol is the minute—"
Regulus blocked out his brother again, realizing that maybe he should leave a note at their parents' requesting they have an intervention with Sirius in regards to the booze. Absently, he noted that Sirius was in on one of his self-esteem destroying self-deprecation rambles. However, Sirius had decided to stretch and likely slouch towards his bed instead of roughing it on the couch, spurring Regulus to throw himself onto the floor properly behind the couch to maximize the likelihood Sirius did not notice his presence.
Times like these made Regulus thank Merlin that a certain Muggle fiction regarding presence-sensing was just that—a fiction. Also the concept of Sirius with even a minute chance of acquiring a plasma sword was fairly disturbing. No. Focus.
Well, Sirius just walked over to the front door, which made no goddamn sense whatsoever. If he turned around, the scene that would greet him was that of his brother fairly clinging to the carpet in an attempt to go unnoticed. Franticly, Regulus glanced around the flat, trying to figure out where would be an acceptable hiding spot. Climbing over the sofa like a terrified house-cat, Regulus managed to hide out of his brother's line of sight as he heard a loud thump and cursing.
Resisting the urge to check to see if Sirius was okay, Regulus tried to think about what he needed to do to extract himself from this mess. So. Sirius apparently thought that leaving the flat to go drinking or something else absurdly idiotic given the circumstances was a brilliant idea. Regulus needed to leave the flat without Sirius seeing him. If Sirius was gone, then Regulus could depart without need to act like a drunken, somewhat high James Bond. That was a bright spot in this situation. Sirius's shenanigans had managed to scare Regulus a tiny bit sober. Speaking of beer and liquor, that mess was something else Regulus could take care of while Sirius was out getting shitfaced! Regulus could hide all the ethanol! Well, and all the Muggle solvents hiding around the place. Poisoning oneself with drain de-clogging liquid was a very horrible way to go, and Regulus was not feeling too charitable towards his brother's current life choices.
Given the sounds of unwrapping, Regulus paid attention to his surroundings once more. Sirius, being very generous in letting Regulus know of his movements, decided to read the attached note out loud. The present for Sirius's birthday was from Frank and Alice Longbottom, and the fellow Auror had decided that feeding Sirius's newly developed alcoholic tendencies was an acceptable gift.
Regulus knew he shouldn't have been surprised as Sirius closed the door to the flat. He had just assumed his older brother would have decided leaving was a bad plan after the (probable) face-plant, but no. Liquor delivered was the only prevention keeping Sirius from attempting to brave the stairs leading to the ground floor of the building. Regulus supposed he should probably be glad in that case that the Longbottoms were enabling Sirius, then. Better to have him regret drinking so much liquor in the morning than wake up dead from a broken neck.
Now that Sirius was on the move, Regulus scuttled to the opposite side of the couch to avoid being spotted, pausing briefly to consider pretending to be a pillow stuck under the blanket Sirius had been using. However, Sirius apparently had yet to drag himself upright, leading Regulus scramble back to hide behind the couch, out of his brother's line of sight. As he did so, Sirius decided that properly walking was a good plan, leading Regulus to adopt his previously considered tactic of curling up in a ball under the blanket.
The only reason Regulus's chosen course of action worked was that Sirius was likely already drunk or high on painkillers, because there was no other explanation for Sirius waltzing perpendicular to where Regulus was pretending to be furniture and continuing into his room.
After about ten minutes, Regulus judged it was safe to cease his upholstery impersonation. Reluctant to ditch the blanket, Regulus sat ensconced in it as he considered his next course of action. The smart thing to do was to apparate away immediately, forget this whole thing happened, forget this whole damned adventure, and run back across the Pond, to where it was safe. Next smartest was just part one of the previous smart thing. At the bottom of the list was intentionally announcing his presence to Sirius. Next up, though, Regulus had to reckon was sitting around doing reconnaissance on his brother's mental health, which seemed to be poorer than normal. Well, Sirius seemed to be far more despondent than normal, which Regulus considered bizarre given that it was indeed his older brother's birthday.
Sirius couldn't have realized Regulus checked up on him, could he? Bellatrix's Cruciatus tended to render the victim insensate for a while, so Sirius should have still be out of it when Regulus made sure Sirius had not managed to shove himself off his mortal coil. Given how Regulus was not completely sober himself, he was not going to attempt a precautionary memory wipe on Sirius. Yes, the consequences of Sirius seeing Regulus alive could be dire, but hopefully Sirius would just write the intervention off as a Cruciatus-induced hallucination. As Regulus was well-aquainted with that spell, he knew it was possible if the spell was strong enough and had likely been previously recorded as a side-effect. With prior documentation, Lupin would be able to write a mini-essay on how Sirius was just seeing things to back up that possibility. If Sirius was convinced that Regulus had in fact been there, however, neither time nor tide could convince him otherwise. That was—in the end—the true downside to Sirius being so damnably Gryffindorish. Attempting to change Sirius's mind was like trying to stop a raging bull.
Biting back a groan, Regulus folded the blanket and returned it to its proper spot on the sofa. Bracing himself, he made his way over to his brother's room. The door was only half-way shut, which in honestly was to Regulus's favor. As he glanced in through the gap caused by the hinges, Regulus was relieved to discover that Sirius was unconscious, albeit with a death-grip on a bottle of whiskey. Wait, no, that was brandy. The bottle of whiskey was on the floor, just asking to be slipped on.
Content to continue creeping, Regulus snuck into the room. At this point, he realized he had no idea what he was doing. Sirius seemed to be fine, despite the tripping hazards. Should he just leave now? No! He had his wand, didn't he? Yes, he did. That meant he could run a diagnostic spell on Sirius, make sure his big brother hadn't gone and done something epically stupid by drinking so soon after being attacked by Bellatrix and the good, well-meaning people of St. Mungo's.
Regulus silently cast the spell he was fairly certain would work and waited for a moment. He really should get rid of the bottles, he decided. Momentarily distracted, Regulus vanished the multiple empty glass bottles posing walking hazards around his brother's room. Thankfully, he was either sobering or so tired that he couldn't be bothered to focus more than necessary and therefore returned to looking at the diagnostic read-out floating in front of him.
Well. Sirius needed to pay more attention to the warning labels on medication. Regulus needed to pay more attention to the warning labels on medication, as well, but he had usually taken said medication normally for a while before ignoring the labels entirely. (Regulus wasn't supposed to drink with some of the painkillers he was on, but that made the drug more effective for him in one or two cases. That said, his experimenting could backfire, but at this point, Regulus was fairly certain a glass of wine would not kill him.)
The point was that Sirius had taken the normal amount of painkilling potion for him (which in Regulus's opinion tended to be enough to down an elephant) along with apparently half a bottle of brandy. With a displeased expression, Regulus extricated said half-empty bottle of brandy from his brother's unconscious yet freakishly strong grip. Properly stopping up the brandy (surprisingly high shelf; Sirius should send Longbottom a very nice thank-you card), Regulus set it on Sirius's night-stand before going about clearing the alcohol from Sirius's system. Dorcas—may her demented soul rest in peace—was absolutely brilliant at sobering charms, but Regulus was decent enough. His main goal was to clear his brother of the alcohol itself, to prevent any detrimental interactions between all the things the healers at St. Mungo's had given him as well as the later pain potion and the massive quantities of booze Sirius had recently knocked back.
A short time later, Regulus cast another diagnostic spell to make sure his brother had not managed to cause permanent damage. The readings came up all fine, thankfully. Still, Sirius was in a sorry state. Regulus was exhausted, and he was honestly fairly close to just passing out next to Sirius on the very inviting bed, but he knew he had to get home. That said, he did manage to pry Sirius's shoes off before retrieving the blanket from the couch and covering his older brother with it. That was all Regulus dared, to be honest. It was a miracle in and of itself that Sirius hadn't woken up.
Regulus left the room after turning the lights off, shutting the door behind him. After turning all the lights Sirius had left on in the rest of the flat off, Regulus cast a muffling charm and disapparated back to his own flat. Barely pausing to switch off the light he had left on and divest himself of his work clothes, Regulus collapsed onto his own bed.
Yes. Sleep. Sleep was good.
