Follows "Bottle It Up" in Little Voice.

Oh, God, what the hell did he just do? Okay, so the snogging that was at least semi-planned, but the clinging? Not as much. And that noise he made when Barty had grabbed his arms? Yeah, totally unplanned.

And now it had just occurred to Regulus that maybe that damned note (which he shouldn't have read) hadn't been the truth. Maybe Barty had written what he had to piss off his father. If that were the case, then how in the hell was Regulus ever going to be able to look his friend in the eye ever again?

"Reg, mate, you've gotta explain," Barty said all of a sudden. He was still holding Regulus away, which was likely the only reason Regulus hadn't bolted. This question wasn't one that Regulus was really prepared to answer. He didn't even know why himself. He could blame the drugs or he could blame the fact that he'd been terrified for the past hour that his friend might die, but neither of those were really true. So, instead of answering, Regulus continued to stare at the floor. Maybe if he didn't say anything, Barty would just accept it as him doing something ridiculous, and the two of them could just forget this whole thing every happened and get on with their lives. The thought was laughable, and so Regulus only felt awful.

"What was all that about?" Barty prompted neutrally. That was never good news. Regulus knew what neutral tones preceded. Well, it was due time that Regulus lost what few friends he had left, wasn't it? "Reg, come on. Tell me what happened," Barty pleaded.

Regulus shut his eyes, willing everything to just go away. It didn't work, but Barty had stopped holding his arms. What in the name of God was he supposed to say? What could he say? There wasn't anything that could make this better, was there? Was there? He put his hand on the back of his neck, miraculously feeling even more nervous and awful than before. Hhad no idea when he had started to speak even as the words came out: "Nothing happened, Barty. I just—" He cut himself off. No, he was not going to lie. Not to Barty. Lowering his arm again, he stared straight down and admitted, "I read your letter, and I—I don't even know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wouldn't blame you if you never forgave me. Fuck, I deserve it. I understand if you never want to speak to me again."

"Reg," Barty interrupted. Regulus heard the sharp edge in his tone and braced himself for the inevitable. "Reg, are you talking about the letter I wrote while I was drinking that bottle of firewhiskey you mentioned?" he demanded, his voice shaking with anger.

Regulus could only nod mutely. He was such a coward. Maybe he should try to say something? Knowing he was probably about to fuck up things farther, Regulus murmured, resigned to the fact that he was going to lose his best friend once and for all, "Barty, listen. I know how you feel, and I—" I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, please forgive me. I'll do anything you want me to. Anything.

"No," Barty growled.

That was it, then, wasn't it? Regulus turned away, hoping to God that Barty didn't notice him starting to break down. The last thing that Regulus needed to do was accidentally make Barty pity him. In the end, this was for the best, wasn't it? After a false start, Regulus managed to begin, "Barty, I—"

"No."

"Just—"

"No." The number three was important, wasn't it? Like in that fairy story with the three brothers. He expected nothing more or less than this, really.

"Will you listen?" Regulus begged, trying to at least have Barty stop for one moment to let him say he understood, that he'd never bother Barty ever again. That this was all a big mistake, and nothing he said was ever going to undo it. But, maybe Barty needed to say whatever it was he wanted to say.

"No, Reg!" Barty shouted at him. Regulus flinched. "No. I'm not listening to this! It's bullshit!" he continued harshly, sounding angrier than Regulus had heard in a long time. Barty moved away from him on the bed, which Regulus didn't begrudge him. He wouldn't want to be near anyone who treated him like shit, either.

Frozen in his spot, Regulus only sat where he was and took the abuse. He deserved all of it. On the bright side, maybe Barty would hate him now. Then at least he wouldn't have to deal with having a crush on someone who wasn't even worthy of… Regulus tried to muffle the sounds of his crying. He felt like a bloody fool for feeling this damned emotional, but he couldn't stop.

"We are friends, Reg," Barty continued, but Regulus doubted that Barty would still think so in the morning. "Friends. Nothing else: not more, not less. I am not going to fuck that up. Not for me, and sure as shit not for you." No, Barty wouldn't ever risk that, but Regulus wasn't anywhere near as smart or stable to remember or even know how to do something like that. It was a bloody miracle that anyone still liked him, felt anything for him.

Brusquely, Barty snapped, "You like me, Reg. You do not love me." Regulus considered protesting, but his definition of love was different than what he was referring to. So, in a way, Barty was right, and Regulus had no right to say differently. "I don't have tits or red hair, so I'm out of the running," Barty continued cuttingly. "I know. I get that. Don't wave it around in my face like I'm as oblivious as you are, because I'm not."

"I know," Regulus murmured, unable to really say anything else. "I should just leave you alone. You don't need to worry about me ever—" He broke off, unable to continue. Regulus looked up, wondering if he should say anything else, but he noticed that Barty had stood and was making to leave when he started to fall over. Regulus immediately stood and made to help steady him, but Barty shoved him away. He fell backwards into the side of the bed.

"Don't touch me, Reg," Barty growled, barely even glancing in his direction, before he stalked out of the dormitory.

Regulus just sat where he had landed, staring at the place that his friend had been. What had he done? He let himself sob quietly for a while before he gathered himself together and stood. He walked over to his bed and sat down. He sighed and was about to try and go to sleep when he noticed Rosier was awake. Now he did not feel like convincing Evan to keep his mouth shut. "Say anything about Barty, and I'll fucking kill you," Regulus threatened darkly. At the moment, he bloody felt like he could actually make good on the threat.

"Wasn't gonna," Evan squeaked, seeming scared for some weird reason.

Satisfied with that, Regulus went to lie down when he remembered that his codeine bottle was over on Barty's bed. With a sigh, he wandered back over to Barty's bed and grabbed the pill bottle. He stared at it for a long moment. He wanted to drop the bottle where it was and run as far away from it as possible, but he continued to hold it.

Not really knowing what he was going to do, Regulus left the dorm-room and made his way to the common room. Barty was sitting next the fire with his back to Regulus, so the younger man ran as quick as he could outside. In the halls, Regulus wandered around the castle for what seemed like an hour before coming to a stop in the Astronomy Tower.

He wandered over to the window and looked out at the night sky. It was beautiful, really. Gorgeous, to be honest. Why couldn't everything else be like that? The stars probably didn't feel pain. Legend said many of them had been people once, individuals the gods had favored over the others. Well, others had been loathed by the gods, but their fate had been the same. The most loved and most hated were in one place, alone and austere for the rest of eternity. The most loved deserved that rest, and the most hated were tortured with the loneliness. The rest rotted in the underworld or were tortured in Tartarus, save the few favored enough to spend the rest of eternity in the Islands of the Blessed.

He didn't want to spend the rest of eternity in Hel, but it was starting to look like the preferable alternative. Or would he be sent to Perdition? He didn't deserve Limbo or anything better. Valhalla was for warriors, the Isles of the Blessed for the virtuous, and Heaven for…

Regulus looked down at the bottle of pills again. No one would mind, would they? Mum and Dad would. Sirius … he might, but he had Potter, and Regulus trusted Potter to make sure Sirius was okay. Sev probably wouldn't give a damn, Barty was better off, and everyone else likely wouldn't notice.

Maybe if he just took enough to dull the pain? To make everything stop hurting? But even if his parents would care that he had… Everyone would still be better off. Mum and Dad would have to mend the bridges between them and Sirius, and Sirius would finally be able to just get on with his life. No one could ever accuse him of being on the side of the war their cousin was on if Sirius only had friends who were obviously on the right side.

It would also neatly solve Barty's problem.

Regulus started laughing nervously. Oh, God, he was really contemplating this. He had means, motive, and opportunity, and he was really contemplating this. It would only take a couple pills, wouldn't it? He should probably add alcohol to the mix, just in case. It lessened drug metabolism, didn't it? Or at least it changed it.

Regulus continued to stare at the pills, but finally, he made his decision.