Sirius had thought he'd be whole again, after this.
He'd thought that all he needed was -
(Reg, sleeping in the other bed, back in place, back where he belonged)
But everything still lay in shards all around them.
And Sirius, lying in his bed now, was desperately staring at the ceiling, the aftershock of the night still tingling in his bones as he listened to his brother's even breathing, not being able to go back to that normalcy that had existed only - what was it, twelve hours prior? Before he'd opened the door to their room and found his little brother gone?
A layer of carelessness had been stripped off, left their little family bare, like a body mercilessly skinned, a lump of raw, bloody flesh. Though the world looked the same, it felt painful now - Sirius had realized how fragile it was, and that made all the difference.
The even rhythm of Regulus' breathing, so easily disturbed.
Having a family and friends was only a fleeting moment that he'd thought eternal.
Having a home. Health. Happiness. Hope. Things so evanescent, in full bloom one day and wilting on the next.
Their little operation could have gone terribly wrong. Sirius didn't even dare to think of all the possible outcomes - the blood in his brother's hair had been enough to make Sirius feel sick to his stomach. Shivers were running down his spine at the thought of how naive they had approached this (Sneak in, get the boy out, easy peasy). So much responsibility on their shoulders, and the realization of it was crushing Sirius now. A single distraction and one wrong step might have cost his brother's life. Not only in theory, but in reality.
But he knew, even if they hadn't made it, the world would've kept turning. The sun would have risen and fallen, relentlessly, like it didn't care.
It had been a close call, shockingly close. Too close.
And Sirius, still paralyzed, wondering why they were still alive.
Was he supposed to be thankful? Thankful that there had only been a bump on Reg's head and not a hole in his scalp? Thankful that his little brother had only been tortured, not killed?
Nothing was fine. They hadn't been lucky, not really. James and him, yes. Not Reg.
And still, the world kept turning. Sirius almost dreaded sunrise. In two or three hours, the night would be over, gone, in the past. The focus would shift onto new things, new realities, a perfectly normal day for most people, and for Sirius it was going to be the first day of walking with that thought throbbing in his head like a constant headache - an insecurity that concerned the most fundamental parts of his existence, that everything he loved could be taken from him without any further warning.
It was like knowing that his heart could fail him at any moment. How could he still put his trust in anything?
This responsibility for his brother, too heavy, it had brought him to his knees just like that.
Responsibility.
The state or fact of having a duty to deal with something or of having control over someone. The state or fact of being
accountable
or to blame
for something.
He'd happily played with words he didn't fully understand, that had a depth he hadn't been able to fathom. He'd been prepared for things to go right, not for everything to go downhill. They had sent a rock rolling, too fast and too heavy for Sirius to catch, no way prevent the inevitable collision with the ground. He'd watched it fly over the edge and - CRASH, broken to pieces, dust rising -
He could deal with the heartbreak of having to put his little brother over his knee, hearing him cry and beg, if that prevented any serious harm. But not with this. He couldn't deal with this, the worst case - blood on Reg's face, bruises flowering on his skin, evidence of so much pain endured, more than any human being ever should.
Sirius wished it was his.
Yet it was irreversible.
And Sirius, he was still standing on the edge of a gaping abyss, saw it every time he closed his eyes. He turned to his side, looked at his brother's sleeping figure. What if Reg didn't recover? What would Reg say if he realized that all of this had been Sirius' fault? (And the blame, it would be too much, coming from Reg).
What if there are monsters in the darkness? - Then I'll protect you.
It was hubris, if anything.
It's all going to be fine, Reggie.
And a lie that even he himself didn't believe in anymore.
Morning came and went, and Sirius still hadn't closed a single eye. Regulus had stirred once or twice, but hadn't woken up. Sirius shut the blinds when the sunlight became too bright in the room. He skipped breakfast. A tray with pancakes appeared not much later on his desk. He smelled the scent but then forgot about it, and the pancakes became cold. Instead he sat on his bed, watching his brother. Didn't dare to touch him anymore, so he wouldn't disturb him.
(And the thought of Reg, waking up and looking at him with pain in his eyes, how should he take this?)
So he let him sleep as long as possible. He barely moved himself; instead sat with his back against the wall, studying his brother so long until the boy's shape was basically engraved in Sirius' retina - Reg's pale face, the dark circles under his eyes, the dry, broken skin on his lips, he saw it even when he wasn't looking at him.
It was lunchtime when Mr. Potter opened the door. He motioned for Sirius to come downstairs, it was time to eat. Sirius shook his head. Not hungry.
Mr. Potter looked at Regulus. "How is he doing?" he asked in a whisper.
Sirius didn't have enough energy to even shrug.
Mr. Potter stepped in, sat down next to Sirius. Looked at him, through the darkness of the room. "How are you doing?"
Sirius closed his eyes, grimaced.
"Did you sleep at all?"
Sirius shook his head. "Not yet."
Mr. Potter patted the younger man's knee. "You don't look good, son. See, Regulus is resting, so maybe you should try and do the same."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"I just can't."
Mr. Potter was silent for a bit. Sirius drew his knees to his chest, kept his eyes on his little brother.
"Is it alright if I keep you some company?" Mr. Potter asked quietly.
"Sure." Of all the people he called friends and family, Sirius never got tired of Mr. Potter's company. There were people who wore him out, like Mrs. Potter and her need to tackle a problem straightaway, Peter's brainless comments, Regulus when he had one of his mood swings, and sometimes even James, when he was being really inconsiderate. But never Mr. Potter.
"We still have Christmas biscuits," Mr. Potter mused. "A bite or two won't do any harm, don't you think?"
Before Sirius could respond, a plate appeared between them, filled with all sorts of biscuits, mostly leftovers from Christmas. Sirius' mouth quirked upwards as he took a handful and began eating. They were delicious, and stuffed a hole in his empty stomach he hadn't fully realized was there.
"There are some things that are beyond our control," Mr. Potter said in a low voice. He picked up a gingerbread man, turned it over, admired the decorative icing. "As parents, we have to believe that what we decide is right, even when sometimes, it turns out that it was the wrong decision. We're only human, Sirius."
"I didn't see this coming," Sirius admitted. "I was so blind. You never made mistakes like this."
Mr. Potter sighed. "Yes, I did."
"Not like this, no. We didn't end up hurt like Reg did."
Mr. Potter smiled sadly. "I made more mistakes than you can imagine. It's only because you were our second child that our parenting seemed more… smooth. We did a whole lot of things wrong when James was younger."
"Like what?"
Mr. Potter chuckled. "Do you want me to make a list? This might take a while."
Sirius kept looking at him, questioningly. His mouth was filled with biscuits, and Mr. Potter smiled at the sight of his puffy cheeks.
The man leaned forwards, rested his elbows on his knees. "One thing that comes to my mind is that I forgot James at the shopping center. Twice, actually. The second time, James was about five then, Euphemia almost killed me when I came home and she asked me where our son was. And I stood there, grocery bags in both hands, looking like she had just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head."
Sirius looked back at his brother. He swallowed heavily. "This doesn't compare."
"It does," Mr. Potter said. "I was lucky that a cashier caught James at the exit and brought him to the staff room, where I collected him later. I was almost in tears, I thought I'd lost him. Things could've easily taken a much worse turn." He cleared his throat. "What I'm trying to say is, we all fail. We're human, so we fail. We fail and then we try again."
"If you fail once, maybe. All I do is fail. I'm just - a failure as a guardian. And as a brother."
"Sirius…"
"Just don't deny it." Sirius felt anger crawl beneath his skin, suddenly. "You don't have to spare my feelings."
Mr. Potter straightened up, fixated Sirius' eyes. "I'm not. So you feel guilty? For what exactly?"
"Isn't that obvious?" Sirius raised his voice, made an erratic hand movement in Regulus' direction. "This - this is my fault. All of it."
"No need for an attitude, son."
Sirius huffed. He didn't know why he was being like this. The man only meant well. But he didn't want to hear this at the moment - Mr. Potter making excuses for him, he didn't deserve that.
"So, you're saying anything that happens to Regulus is your fault, am I understanding you correctly?"
"Yes."
"Did you tell him to leave the house unprotected, to visit his friend without telling anyone?"
"Of course not!"
"Did you tell him to hide things from you, to go behind your back?"
"No!"
"Then how is this your fault? You can't read minds, or can you?"
"No -" Sirius gritted his teeth. "But I should have known. That's how it's my fault."
"And not knowing everything makes you a bad parent?"
Sirius wished Mr. Potter would stop talking. "In this case, yes."
Mr. Potter raised his eyebrows high. "Then I've never met a single person who fits your criteria of a good parent. Especially not one who parents a teenager."
Sirius glared at him.
"How many things are there that I don't know about you and James? How much of it is potentially dangerous?"
Mr. Potter was looking at Sirius in a way that made Sirius fear that he could start reading his thoughts. The young man averted his eyes.
"That's different." He scratched his arm absentmindedly.
"How?"
Sirius didn't have an answer to that.
A hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing. Sirius looked up, met his dad's gaze. The man took the half-eaten plate with biscuits and put them on top of a pile of books on the night stand. "You should get some sleep. Just allow your mind to rest for a while. I can watch him in the meantime, if you want."
Sirius took a shuddering breath. He wanted to resist, wanted to stay awake for Reg, but there was already a yawn building in his chest at the thought of sleep. A calmness spreading, suddenly, at the thought of his dad staying, watching over the both of them. "Fine." He slid down, away from the wall and into a lying position. He turned to his side, cast one last glance at his little brother who was sleeping only a little more than an arm's length away. "Please tell me when he wakes up."
"I will." A soft smile played around Mr. Potter's lips.
A searing headache pulled Regulus out of the depths of sleep. Layer after layer, the calm and empty place he'd been in faded away. Thoughts returned, slowly at first, and then faster, and finally LOUD. So loud that Regulus wanted to cover his ears. That was when he realized that he couldn't. He was lying in his bed; mattress, pillow, blanket - all familiar. A sense of relief flared up, but only for a moment.
Then the headache again, and along with it memories pushed their way to the surface.
A soft whimper escaped his lips. He had a feeling that he didn't want to know, didn't want to remember. But that wasn't an option.
His fingers tightened around the blanket as memories flashed past his inner eye, memories tinted in pain and fear. Fire and a scream in his throat, building up. No -
He turned around, onto his back. The veil of sleep was thin now, the real world shining like the sun above the water's surface, when you, underwater with a few seconds of air trapped in your lungs, look up, see the air bubbles reflecting the sunlight, glittering like hundreds of glass beads. Once at that point, transience pulls at your chest; the choice is death or that harsh sunlight reality. An invisible force dragged Regulus towards that other world, sleep evaporating like the air in a diver's lung and Regulus broke through the surface.
He opened his eyes, blinked. The room was dimly lit, and he felt disorientated. Didn't know the time or the day. Only the place was familiar, his bed, in the room he shared with Sirius at the Potters'. Blurry vision at first, then, slowly, his eyes began to focus.
"Reggie?" Sirius' voice. "Can you hear me?"
His big brother sat on the edge of the bed.
Memories, of Sirius finding him. Confusion. How had they gotten here? Fear, suddenly, in his chest, sending waves of panic through his body. Bellatrix, she had been in the room. He couldn't respond.
"It's alright," Sirius mumbled. "You're home." He put a hand on Regulus' forehead to check his temperature. "A bit warm," he noted. "Can you talk, Reggie?"
Please just talk to me again. Tears built up in Regulus' eyes. He wanted to talk, but his voice got caught in a tight lump of tears that clogged his throat. He nodded quickly.
"That's good," Sirius said, not commenting on the fact that Regulus hadn't actually tried. He was talking slowly, pronouncing every syllable clearly as one does with a child. "Tell me, are you hurting?"
Through a blur of tears, Regulus shook his head. The headache hammering between his temples wasn't worth mentioning, it was nothing, nothing compared to the memories.
Sirius unscrewed a vial. "This is to relieve any lingering pain," he explained. "Take it? Please?"
Regulus didn't protest. When he tried to sit up, he realized that his entire body was aching horribly. Sirius put a hand on his back to steady him. Regulus winced at the contact. Rodolphus had dragged him up the stairs and his back felt like it was covered in bruises.
"I'm sorry, sorry" Sirius said quickly, shifting his hand to the boy's shoulder. "Is this okay? Is this better?" He looked incredibly nervous, like he was afraid to accidentally break Regulus in two with a simple touch.
He handed Regulus the vial, and Regulus swallowed the pain-relieving potion quickly, grimaced at the taste of mud and rotten leaves.
Sirius took it back when it was empty, put it on the night stand. Regulus wiped the back of his hands across his eyes, hoping against hope that Sirius hadn't seen his tears. He felt absolutely pathetic, despite the fact that the magic began to work and any pain slowly disappeared.
"This won't make you too sleepy, I hope," Sirius said. "You gotta eat too, at least a little bit." He looked down, black hair falling into his face. He took a deep breath. When he looked up again, his eyes were full of pain unspoken.
Regulus wanted to say something, he really did. He wanted to apologize, but how did you apologize for something like this?
"You probably want to eat in bed, don't you? Are you hungry?" More insignificant talk about nothing. Regulus couldn't care less about food right now, even though his stomach grumbled at the mention of it.
"What do you wanna have?" Sirius, coaxing for words, words Regulus couldn't conjure up. He couldn't think of anything.
His lips trembled. He met his brother's eyes, grey eyes full of concern, anxious to receive only a single syllable out of his mouth.
"Sirius," he whispered, his voice still not working.
Relief flashing across Sirius' features. "Yes?" Waiting for more.
Regulus couldn't look away from his brother's face. He got dizzy, suddenly, at the thought of what Sirius might be thinking of him. All the things he'd done - he couldn't bring himself to say sorry. Sorry didn't cut it, not in the least. Silent tears running down his cheeks now, he tried to catch them with his hands before they fell.
Sirius shifted, turned his upper body a little more into Regulus' direction. "Reggie?" His voice soft and gentle, like velvet, like a bedtime story, like I love you. "May I give you a hug?"
Regulus sniffed. He wanted to say yes, and then his body reacted before his mind could, and he leaned forward and sank against Sirius' chest. And Sirius' arms, folded around him, fingers as gentle as feathers ghosting along his back. A sob built up in Regulus' body, and Sirius' arms tightened and he placed his right hand on the back of Regulus' head, buried his fingers in his hair, desperately holding onto him all of a sudden.
"You scared me, little one," Sirius whispered. His jaw was rough against Regulus' forehead, a hint of a dark stubble scarcely perceptible in the darkness of the room but very much so when in direct contact with skin.
"I didn't mean to," Regulus murmured into his brother's shoulder, wanting to say more but not finding the words. Didn't mean to scare you. Didn't mean to betray you. Didn't mean to hurt you.
A kiss on his forehead. Then, arms tightening around him even more.
"I'm sorry too," Sirius responded, trying hard to keep his voice from shaking. "I'm so goddamn sorry." His fingers in Regulus' hair, curling.
For what? Regulus wasn't sure what Sirius had to apologize for, especially now. He turned his head so he could look at his brother's face.
Sirius saw the question in Regulus' eyes. "There's so much I want to say," he confessed. "But I can't speak right now. I just want to hold you for a bit, is that okay?"
Regulus nodded, snuggled back into his brother's shoulder. He understood. There was so much he had to tell Sirius, and it was likely that, after Sirius found out what he'd done in the last months, he wouldn't get another hug so quickly. Sirius would kill him, if he was lucky. If he was unlucky, Sirius would decide that he couldn't handle him any longer.
With that thought in mind, it was difficult to let go of Sirius after a mere minute of hugging.
Sirius said "I want you to try and eat a few bites," while pulling away, leaving Regulus cold and incomplete. The boy nodded, his heart incredibly heavy. And then having dinner, sitting up in his bed, the porridge weighing him down, his anxiety grew with every spoonful.
Sirius sat next to him, silently watching him, forcing a smile every time Regulus looked at him. Sirius had gotten himself a coffee (despite it being already 8pm), and took a small sip now and then, though holding onto the cup more than anything else.
Madam Pomfrey visited directly after Regulus had finished eating, and kept asking him all kinds of weird questions.
"Wriggle your toes. Touch the tip of your nose. Can you remember everything, or do you have blackouts? Do you feel tired? Dizzy? Where does the headache begin, does it throb or sting?"
Sirius told her about the bruises, and Regulus had to remove his shirt. Madam Pomfrey went on rubbing his back with a green slime - she called it salve, but to Regulus, it looked like slime. Knowing enough about potions and their ingredients, he decided it was safer not to ask what it was as he didn't really want to know the answer. It felt cold at first but it dried quickly, left a tingling sensation on his skin.
Several diagnostic spells followed, during which she told Regulus to lie still and not to move. It wasn't difficult, and he waited until she was done waving her wand over him, staring at the ceiling, not wanting to meet Sirius' eyes and see the pained expression in there.
She explained to him what the Cruciatus Curse had done to his body. "Most of the pain you may still experience is going to fade," she said. "But the memories, they are special. Treat them carefully, don't overexert yourself. Many patients experience physical pain when trying to remember how they felt under the spell, and you want to heal, so don't tear your wounds open. Dreamless Sleep is important too. You need to rest, or you won't make a full recovery. How well you heal often depends on the first few days."
As far as Regulus understood her, the Cruciatus left scars. Not physical ones, but mental and magical ones. His magical core was scarred, she'd said, so he had to take it easy at first, stay away from difficult spells that drained his energy. The scars would heal with time, she said. But as he didn't want them to become tight and overgrown, he had to treat them carefully, be considerate.
"He's not gonna be doing magic anyway anytime soon," Sirius said.
Regulus was puzzled by that statement, but decided not to ask Sirius why.
"That's good to hear." She looked Regulus' back over one last time, nodded approvingly. His skin had fully absorbed the salve. His back didn't hurt anymore, and the tingling sensation from the salve was gone. "You can put your shirt back on, Regulus."
The boy obeyed wordlessly.
When she left, Sirius followed her outside and Regulus could hear their voices, too low for him to understand, but they were talking about him. Then the sound of the floo going in the Potters' office.
There was a plate of biscuits on the nightstand, Regulus noticed that just now. He picked a donut-shaped biscuit with a chocolate coating and marzipan filling, nibbled at the top while keeping his eyes on the door.
When Sirius reappeared, he was awkwardly carrying two apples, two more potions and a cup of water. "Dreamless Sleep, a Calming Draught, and some water to wash the taste away," he explained as he put them down on Regulus' bed. "And something healthy." He added, throwing an apple to Regulus.
The boy caught it with both hands. "I'm not tired."
"You heard Madam Pomfrey. You need to rest."
Regulus screwed up his nose. He'd just woken up and now that the pain reliever worked he felt perfectly fine. "I can rest without sleeping."
Sirius knitted his brows. He didn't say anything, though, simply unscrewed the Dreamless Sleep and held it out for Regulus to take.
"I'm fine, I don't need to be drugged up."
"Drugged up," Sirius repeated, his voice dropping an octave. "Is that really what you think I'm trying to do?"
Regulus looked away. What was it with him that he always felt the need to defend himself against Sirius, even now? "Fine, I'll take it," he mumbled reluctantly.
"No," Sirius said. He screwed the lid back on and set the vial on the night stand. "You know what, I don't want you to take it if you think that's what I'm after. Drugging you. I just didn't want you to suffer from nightmares, that's all. But you do you. Take it when you feel like it." He sat against the headboard of his bed, crossed his arms, his expression tightening to a frown.
Regulus chewed on his lip. He couldn't blame Sirius for reacting like this. Somewhere along the road, he'd picked up this defensive tone when it came to Sirius; a reflex to automatically defy his brother no matter what he said. He was just about to open his mouth and apologize when Sirius spoke up once more.
"I can't go on like this." His voice sounded hollow.
"W-what?"
Sirius pulled his hair back into a ponytail, held it for a second, let it fall back around his face. He sighed. "Nothing. Forget it."
Regulus wanted to say something, but Sirius' expression had already smoothed again. It was too late. Sirius reached for the other apple, started eating without another word.
Silence, Sirius crunching the apple the only sound tearing at it. He spat the seeds out at first, then reconsidered as he didn't know where to put them and seemed too lazy to get up. So he ate the apple whole, with core and everything attached. Regulus watched this for a while.
"Sirius?"
"M-hm?" Crunch. Crunch. Apple eaten. Without getting up, Sirius opened the window above his bed a tiny crack and chucked the stalk outside.
Regulus took a deep breath, collecting as much courage as possible. "Are you… going to… punish me?"
Silence again. Sirius began tapping his foot against the wooden board at the end of his bed. Tap, tap, tap.
Regulus shifted uncomfortably. "Did you hear me?"
"Yeah."
Tap, tap, tap.
The sound of the traffic outside was louder, suddenly. The wind too, cutting closer around the house. And then the steady rhythm of tap, tap, tap.
"So?" Regulus pressed the topic.
The tapping stopped. "Punish you for what exactly?"
Goosebumps on Regulus' skin. "Yesterday." For almost getting all of us killed. Again.
"No."
Regulus stared at his brother in complete shock, jaw dropping. Here he was, having gotten into the biggest trouble imaginable, and Sirius shrugged it off just like that. Something wasn't right. Sirius wasn't even looking at him, his voice smooth as though they were talking about the weather.
"Why not?"
Sirius reached out, and, without any further warning, switched off the light. With the blinds closed, the room turned pitch black. "Just try to get some rest, Reggie. And don't forget to take the potions before you go to sleep."
The coming days were quiet and viscous, dragging like honey but lacking the sweetness.
School would start on Monday. They were going to miss a few days at least, maybe more. Regulus had asked about it, tentatively, but Sirius hadn't come to a decision yet. To go or not to go - no matter which option he chose, it was going to be different.
He tried not to let Reg see it too much - the worry that had completely infected his mind and body, even his sleep. The second night after the incident, Sirius had woken up to find Regulus' bed empty. He'd jumped up - almost gotten tangled up in the covers too - and stumbled out of the room, heart beating up to his throat, the nightmare he'd had still pulsating in front of his eyes. Reg gone, hurt, have to find him -
Then there was the sound of the toilet flushing and the bathroom door opened, sent bright light washing into the dark corridor, and revealed his little brother. The boy dragged himself back in the direction of their room, hair tousled, still half asleep.
Sirius wanted to smack him all the way back to his bed for scaring him like that but didn't, of course.
Alastor Moody invited them to his office the morning after that. James, Regulus, and Sirius sat like hens in front of the man's desk, reporting everything they remembered. Moody asked them the strangest details, wanted to know everything, from the exact words spoken to the decor of the house. What did the Lestranges keep in the basement? Whose portraits hung on the walls? He found Regulus' description of the Lestranges' parlour particularly interesting. A magical quill scribbled every single word they said down, it was unofficial, Moody assured them, but they needed any information they could get about Voldemort and his followers, no matter how insignificant it seemed, it could be helpful one day.
Sirius decided it was enough when he could hear tears in his brother's voice.
"Regulus has to rest," he said, and was surprised that Regulus actually looked thankful. Under the table, Sirius took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
On the way outside they ran into Prewett. The man extended his hand, a shiny card between his fingers and a grin on his face. Sirius took it. The card showed nothing but a unicorn with sunglasses. "Well done, Gentlemen. I salute you." The red-head raised an invisible hat to them.
"We don't have business cards, Prewett," Moody grunted from behind his desk.
Prewett made a face. "But we should!" He winked at the boys. "Should you ever consider a career in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, you know where to find us."
Back home, Regulus went straight to his room, and Sirius followed after him. He was prepared to console his brother, but Regulus just sat on his bed for a while, legs crossed, quietly staring at his hands. Then the boy crawled under the covers and closed his eyes. He didn't open them again until a few hours later.
Sirius wished he had any words to make it better.
—
"Can I go outside, Sirius?"
Sirius looked up. Regulus' voice had been so low that, for a moment, he thought he'd imagined it. "Outside?"
"I just need some fresh air, gotta see something other than our room and this house. Only for a bit. May I? Please?"
Sirius hesitated. His brother, outside, alone. A nightmare still too fresh. "I'm not comfortable with you going out alone right now," he confessed, despite understanding the kid well - after four days mostly spent in this room, everyone would get claustrophobic. There was nothing to do, all books were read, and not having gotten a new wand yet, Regulus couldn't practice magic either (Sirius wouldn't mind, despite the legal prohibition). And, unfortunately, Regulus wasn't all too interested in making conversation with the Potters, so he didn't go downstairs much either. Instead, he slept a lot, which was good for his body, but the rest of the time he spent staring at the walls, which was bad for his mind.
Regulus' face fell at Sirius' response. Like a snail retracting its feelers, he was about to retreat back into his shell of silence.
"I could go with you," Sirius suggested timidly, inwardly preparing himself for the rejection that would almost certainly follow.
Much to his surprise, a small smile crept across Regulus' face. "Do you want to, too?"
Sirius almost laughed. What question. Like he'd miss such an easy opportunity to see his brother happy! "Always!"
So they grabbed their coats and winter boots, scarves, and gloves, and headed outside. It was still bone-chilling cold, but it hadn't snowed since the night Regulus had disappeared. The sky was crystal blue, and the snow frozen, the crispy top layer cracking under their feet.
"Can you show me the playground you told me about?" They had been ambling along somewhat aimlessly for a few minutes, enjoying the winter sun softly tickling their faces and the fresh air in their lungs, when Regulus once more broke the silence with his question.
"Sure."
When they'd been young, their parents had never taken them to a playground. It was Sirius who started taking Reg to the muggle playground not far from their house in London when he'd been around seven years old and Reg maybe four. It had been their secret, an adventure they shared, and hiding it from their parents only made it more exciting. More dangerous too, especially for Sirius who would take the blame in case they were caught, but it was an early act of rebellion as well, to have a taste of that sunshine, fun, and laughter other children took for granted.
Sirius had quickly realized that he had to be a little sneaky. "Aren't your parents around?" was a question he had been asked quite often. He usually pointed in a vague direction and said what they wanted to hear: "My parents are right over there." It was a lie that went easily over his lips whenever a concerned mother or father approached them. Sirius couldn't comprehend why they would need parents to keep them safe, that was his job where Regulus was concerned. And to see Reg's eyes shine, his hands and clothes sandy from digging in the sandbox, proudly presenting a crumbly sandcastle, was the best thing in the world. To show him things ("Look, a squirrel!"), to stand on the ground, ready to catch his brother as they boy attempted to reach the top of the small climbing wall or to run next to the merry go round, Regulus squealing in joy as the speed went faster and faster, was a short interlude of carelessness, of childhood, before they would have to go home (Reg crying as soon as Sirius announced it was time to go, and Sirius calming him with "We'll come back, Reggie. Tomorrow…").
And they had wiped the smiles off their faces so their parents wouldn't get suspicious.
Tomorrow, Reggie. An empty promise more often than not.
They arrived on the town's outskirts. The playground looked like a winter wonderland in the gleaming sunlight. Ice crystals were shining like small diamonds in the trees and shrubs. Icicles hung from the swings' scaffolding, like vitreous daggers glittering in the sun, some of them almost a foot long. Sirius knocked a few of them off so they wouldn't fall on their heads, then they picked a swing each. They were alone, and Sirius could still make out his and James' footprints in the snow from that evening four nights ago.
"I wish we'd come here earlier," Regulus mumbled.
"Why?"
"Dunno. I just have the feeling that -" he stopped. Swallowed heavily.
"What feeling?" Sirius asked after a few moments of listening to the rhythmic whoosh of the swings going back and forth.
"Maybe then things would've turned out differently."
Sirius thought about that. He wished Regulus had went here, that night, instead of going to Barty's. Maybe he would have, if Sirius had showed him this place earlier. Rebellion, but in measures. Sirius would have found him here like he'd envisioned, a scowl on his little brother's face maybe while he was hugging his arms around his middle to fight off the cold, but he'd be unharmed. It would've taken a giant weight off Sirius' chest. He would've pulled the boy into a bone-crushing hug, and then probably given him a handful of hard slaps to his bum. He would've taken him home, given him dinner, tucked him into bed, would have apologized, and made everything better.
"You think so?"Bitterness crept up on Sirius. He willed it away.
Regulus shrugged. He swung higher and the joints' creaking rose in volume. "Maybe."
Sirius had wondered about that a lot during the last days, had wondered about what he could have done, where he should have gone left when he chose to go right. Would they be sitting here then, having this conversation? But then again, maybe everything would have turned out the same. Maybe he'd had no real control over the situation, no matter how much he had wished so. Were they bound to end up where they were now? How much of what happened to them was predestined, depended on their stars? What influence did their decisions really have on the outcome of their story?
"Reggie?"
"Yep?" Regulus swung high now, then let go of the chains and jumped off. He landed, stumbled a few steps forwards then turned around and threw his arms in the air, a bright smile on his face. "See how far I got!" A childlike joy in his voice.
Sirius kept his feet on the ground, reeled the chains of his swing. "Can we talk?"
Regulus' smile faded a bit. "About what?"
"About us?" He hoped this wouldn't kill Regulus' good mood, but at home, Regulus always seemed so fragile and depressed that Sirius never even dared to approach the topic.
"Okay." Regulus settled back on his swing. Waited, cheeks rosy from the cold, but his eyes shining for the first time in days.
"Please don't misunderstand this," Sirius began. "I'm not mad, not at all. I'm just… I have to know what happened."
"When I left? But I already told you everything, when we were at the Aurors' headquarters. I wasn't lying, I promise."
"No," Sirius responded. "Before that. What made you leave? How did it get this far?"
Regulus turned away, looked straight forward. His fingers tightened around the chains. "I wanted to visit Barty." His tone was more reserved now.
"Why?"
"He wrote me. And as you didn't allow me to visit him on New Year's Eve, I thought there was no point in asking you cause you'd say no anyway. Especially after… you know."
"I punished you?"
"Call it whatever you want." Regulus dug the tip of his right shoe into the snow.
"I'm sorry about that," Sirius said in a low voice. "You were right with what you said, about me." You were just like him.
A short silence, the absence of words saying so much suddenly.
"You hurt me," Regulus said eventually, his voice breathy.
Sirius knew. He could hear it in his brother's voice, even though it had been almost a week since it happened. He'd hurt Reg, not physically but emotionally, and that hurt was still there. "I know. I treated you horribly. I'm so incredibly sorry for what I did. I acted out of fear, which was the worst thing I could've done in that situation." He ran a hand down his face. "I know you said you don't want to hear it, but it's important, Reg: I'll never treat you like that again. Not ever. I'll take the time to calm down from now on. I promise."
Regulus looked at him, uncertainty in his gaze. He didn't say anything, though.
"What else do I do that scares you? Scares you like… Father did?"
"When you yell at me," Regulus said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sirius tried to recall all the times he'd yelled at his brother. And he realized, he yelled quite quickly. It had started at the cottage, after their visit at Diagon Alley, and had continued at Hogwarts. Arguing with Reg and finally yelling, yelling about the necklace, yelling at him after the incident with Moony and the Whomping Willow, yelling after he'd found the book in Reg's trunk.
"Do I scare you?" Sirius had to force himself to say the words, dreading the answer. "Are you often afraid of me?"
Regulus kept looking at him, his grey eyes bearing into Sirius' like he was searching for something, anything. Then he looked away, stared at his feet. "What you might do," he said. "That scares me. And that you will hate me."
"H-hate you?" Sirius repeated incredulously. "I could never hate you, Reg. That's - that's impossible."
Then he realized how Regulus had worded it - he hadn't talked about possibilities. He'd said will. Will hate me. "Wait. What do you mean, saying that I will hate you?"
No response.
"Regulus. I want an answer, now." He knew he sounded stern, had switched back to his commanding tone, ordering Reg to do things - but he couldn't let that statement be, the mere idea of Regulus thinking that Sirius was going to hate him was completely absurd.
"Or what?" An angry flash of grey eyes.
"Or nothing." Sirius forced his voice to smoothen out. He was an idiot. Ordering Regulus to do something almost always resulted in the opposite. Patience, that was what he needed.
A huff. "Yeah, right. Like I don't know a threat when I hear one. I know you better than that!"
"It's not a threat, Reggie. I just can't bear the thought of you walking around fearing that I'd hate you, because I could never. No matter what."
"Yeah, you say that now."
Sirius was baffled. "What… why? What's going on? I don't understand!"
Pain, flashing across Regulus' face. Raw, unadulterated pain, that looked like the regret Sirius felt constricting his own throat, day after day. The boy lowered his head, his hair falling into his eyes. He was swinging slowly now, feet brushing the frozen white without breaking it.
"I can never tell you."
So there was something Regulus was hiding from him, something bad. Sirius' insides clenched as his mind instantly conjured up all sorts of horror scenarios. What could be so bad that Reg thought he'd hate him? He couldn't think of anything though.
"Are you afraid I'll spank you? Is that why you're not telling me? I know I messed up the last time -"
"No," Regulus hissed. "And now stop asking, okay? I've had enough of this conversation." He stomped off in the direction of the street.
Sirius' jaw set. He'd picked up a scent here, and he was going to trail it, no matter what. He hurried to untangle the chains of his swing, then ran after his brother. "Wait!"
Regulus didn't wait. Instead, he began running too. Sirius chased after him, caught up with him when the snow under their feet changed to asphalt. Breathing hard from this quick sprint, he grabbed the boy's arm and spun him around to face him.
"Are you out of your mind?! How could you ever think that I'd hate you! You can't just say that to my face like it means nothing and then leave!"
Regulus struggled against him, tried to shove him away. Sirius slipped and fell backwards into a heap of dirty snow, taking his brother with him. Regulus landed on him, and Sirius quickly turned over and grabbed the boy's wrists, pinning him to the ground. "Stop fighting! You must be bloody mental if you think I'd allow you to believe such a nonsense! Now tell me what's going on!"
"I CAN'T," Regulus yelled at the top of his lungs. "I CAN'T, OKAY? I just can't." He was crying all of a sudden.
Sirius pulled him up and into his arms. Regulus wasn't fighting anymore, he was shaking hard. Sirius just held him. They were sitting in the snow, and Sirius' butt grew cold. He wished he had his wand so he could cast a warming spell on them both.
"Alright, love. It's alright. Breathe," he murmured, rubbing Regulus' back.
"I just g-got what I d-deserved," Regulus sobbed.
Was Regulus talking about the Cruciatus? Sirius shuddered at the thought. No, that couldn't be. He must be referring to the spanking he'd gotten for the book. "Listen," he said, "there's nothing, nothing, you could have possibly done to deserve anything like that."
Regulus shook his head.
"I get why you don't trust me, Reggie. I've been an awful guardian so far. But I'm your brother too. What if - what if we forget about that guardianship stuff for a while, and you just tell me everything, as a brother? And I'll listen, as your big brother. And then we'll figure everything out together. How does that sound?"
Regulus wiped a hand across his eyes. "Trust me you don't want to know…"
"I do want to know," Sirius responded. "I'm here to listen. I'm simply gonna listen. I'm not gonna yell or get mad. I'm not gonna judge you. I promise. I just want you to tell me, that's all. I know you want to as well."
"You won't ever look at me in the same way again. It's too bad, Siri."
"Nothing can be too bad. You're still my brother, that's more important to me than anything else."
"I … I did so many evil things… I hurt people…"
"Lets put an end to it then. All that secret-keeping, it can all be over after today. It's gonna be a relief not having to hide things anymore, not having to lie anymore, I promise. And after this, we'll be honest with each other. We can rebuild it all, we can be better from now on. Both of us. But we have to tear those walls down first that prevent us from being brothers."
"You're gonna be honest with me too?"
Sirius swallowed hard. He was still the adult, he couldn't tell his kid everything. But he could tell him more. "Yes. You're my brother too, right? I want to share things with you too. My dreams. My hopes. My fears. That's what we're supposed to be - confidants. Who can I trust, if not you? I want to tell you so much, and I don't wanna play that role anymore - pretending to be freaking all-knowing, because I'm not. It wears me down. There's been this silence between us, in the last months. It's destroying our family."
"I know."
"And if we don't stop it, this silence, this distrust between us, Reg, it's going to tear us apart, and I don't want that. Why this constant pretending, why the lying? It's not doing us any good."
Sirius got up from the ground, extended his hand to his brother. Regulus took it, and Sirius pulled him to his feet. "Allow me to be there for you. Just allow me this. You can tell me everything now, and I'll listen. And then we'll try and make things better in the future. Please."
"Like, a new start?"
Sirius smiled. "Yes. We'll clean the slate and start anew."
Regulus wiped a hand over his cheeks. He nodded.
"Come." Sirius led the boy back to the playground, and climbed into a wooden playhouse that stood on stilts, a few feet over the ground, bright rusty rungs leading up to it and a slide going down on the other side, its blue color faded out by the seasons. Regulus followed him, though slower than a slug stuck in glue. He was chewing on his bottom lip again, disturbing the day-old teethmarks that had been just about to heal.
They were above the ground now, secluded in a semi-public place where snow didn't break under their feet. There would be no traces of what transgressed in here, only their coming and going recorded in the frozen white but not what lay in between - that was only theirs, too private to share with the snow.
The ceiling was low and Sirius had to be careful not to hit his head. He sat down on the floor, motioned for his brother to sit next to him. Regulus didn't come too close, he stood leaning against the opposite wall, the ceiling only so much as brushing against his hair.
Sirius extended his arms. "Trust me, Reggie? Come here."
The boy sat down next to him, kept his face down. Sirius put an arm around his shoulders, kept his voice as gentle as possible. "Why don't you start at the very beginning?"
Regulus hid his face in his hands. A few deep breaths. "I was one of them," he confessed eventually, his voice a whisper. "Before Father died, and you… took me in."
Regulus was trembling, whether from fear or the cold Sirius didn't know. He drew him closer.
"When they attacked Hogsmeade… I was there too. I was with them."
"It's okay, love. I know that already."
Regulus glanced at him. "You do?"
"I saw you, remember? Outside the Hog's Head."
The boy shuddered. "I didn't stop after the holidays."
When he didn't continue, Sirius dared a soft "Why not?"
"Bellatrix. You know I met her at Diagon Alley, and she threatened me. So I went -" Regulus swallowed heavily. "I lied to you and I went to a Death Eater meeting a few days later. I saw him there, the Dark Lord. And all the others. It was horrible. But I had to go, or she would've killed us. I told her -" his voice broke, and Sirius rubbed his back, even though the older of the brothers felt like he'd just gotten punched in the guts. The thought of his little brother in one room with Voldemort was almost physically painful. The fear Reg must've went through, unimaginable for Sirius, and the fact that he'd chosen to do so alone even more so.
Regulus continued after a deep breath. "I told her I'd spy on you, so she'd let me stay with you. And I did."
Sirius closed his eyes, kept rubbing his brother's back. He felt nauseous. There it was, the crossroad - that day they'd spent at Diagon Alley. He'd known his brother was lying. He should've pressed for the truth more, and not have stopped after Regulus told him only a part of it. If he'd only trusted his instincts, that might have changed everything.
"I'm so sorry," Regulus forced out. There were tears in his voice now, and he desperately tried to hold them back. Sniffed, wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "I should never have gone there. I should've told you the truth. But I couldn't, after that. Not anymore."
Yes, you should've told me. If you'd only told me, Reggie… But there were no reproaches worming their way into his words. "You're doing the right thing now," Sirius said. "You were scared. It's not your fault."
"Yes it was. I thought I could handle everything alone. I was so mad at you when you took my letters. Or when you gave me that necklace. I thought I was protecting us, and I didn't want you to make it all more difficult for me to hide from you."
"That doesn't make it your fault. It was an error in judgment, but you're not to blame."
"I'm a traitor," Regulus spat.
Responsibility. Response-ability. Regulus hadn't been able to respond to that situation, he was too young still, he couldn't defend himself. Even Sirius, despite being eighteen years old and officially an adult, would've turned to the Potters for help in a case like this. And Reg was only fifteen. "No, you're a kid. A kid shouldn't have to make decisions like these."
Regulus didn't comment on this and Sirius had the very bad feeling that there was more. "What else happened?"
Regulus shook his head. "I - I can't." His voice cracked.
"You can. Once it's all out, you're gonna feel a lot better."
Regulus' shoulders curled over his chest. Sirius kept him in a half-hug but pulled him closer, pushed Regulus' head to rest against his shoulder. "Just spit it out. You really can tell me."
"I did something horrible," Regulus whispered, his chin quivering.
Sirius had trouble imagining what that could be. His little brother, he couldn't envision him hurting a fly. Even during the Hogsmeade Attack, Regulus had seemed mostly passive. No, Reg wasn't someone who enjoyed hurting people. He never even got into any physical fights at school.
Sirius placed his hand on his brother's neck, began to gently knead the tense muscles. The boy relaxed a little more against him. Sirius could sense the thoughts racing through Regulus' head, two sides warring, the will to tell the truth versus the fear of what would come afterward.
"I don't know what to say…"
To find words for a truth so well hidden was a hard task, because which words were chosen determined the image they'd create in Sirius' head, a first impression that was irreversible. And it wasn't like Regulus could change his mind and obliviate him later, should the truth leave a bitter taste in his mouth.
"You don't have to convince me of anything," Sirius said, afraid that, if the boy thought about it too long, he might decide on leaving parts of the truth out. "I'm not judging you. Just start at the beginning, and you'll find your way through."
"Okay." Regulus took a deep, shuddering breath. "Remember the day when that newspaper article was published? And the journalist who wrote it was … hurt the next day? When you were so mad at me for not wearing the necklace?"
Knots formed in Sirius' stomach, cramped his insides together. "I remember."
"That was us," Regulus whispered against Sirius' shoulder, so low that Sirius wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't paid close attention. Regulus' fingers tightened on Sirius' coat. "We hurt him."
Sirius had to remember to breathe. In, out, in, out, nothing too erratic so as not to scare Regulus. "Who is we?"
"The other Slytherins, some of them D-Death Eaters."
I told you to fucking stay away from them. I told you they're dangerous. I told you to wear the fucking necklace. Sirius bit his tongue. Oh my God. Oh my fucking God. He took a deep breath, filled his lungs with winter air that cooled him down a little. Don't yell, he thought to himself. Don't you freaking yell at him. Keep it together.
"Continue," he prompted as gently as he could.
And suddenly everything spilled out of the boy. "They wanted revenge, for the article. It was on the Dark Lord's orders. Sirius, I promise I didn't want to go, but I had to! They were about to torture traitors and adversaries, and I was so scared. So we went there. They hurt that man real bad. I… I hurt him too, we all did. And when we were done, we just let him lie there, in his blood." Tears were streaming down Regulus' cheeks. "That's why I deserved what I got. I deserved every minute of the Cruciatus Curse, and more. They cut his fingers off, Sirius." He held up his hands, turned them around, spread his fingers. "I still have my thumbs. I don't have any real scars. You should have left me at Lestrange manor. That was what I deserved."
He pushed away from Sirius, sank down against the opposite wall, drew his knees up to his chest and curled into a ball, face hidden in his arms.
Sirius was speechless. He tried to make sense of what he'd just heard, but couldn't. Don't forget to breathe. In, out, in, out. He didn't know what to think other than No, no, it's not what you deserved, you stupid little moron - and he definitely couldn't say that. His throat was dry. He swallowed hard. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you ask for help?"
"They would've hurt you," Regulus whispered. "I told Professor Dumbledore. He made sure that the man could be saved in time."
"You - you told Dumbledore?" And the headmaster had let this go on without informing Sirius, without helping his little brother? Disbelief first, and then anger, swashed over him - anger at the headmaster, who could have stopped all this by simply doing his job and protecting the child Sirius had trusted him with. If Sirius had known, he would've taken his brother out of Slytherin, he would've made sure Reg was safe. But Dumbledore had done nothing, he hadn't even come out with the truth after they'd called for his help after Regulus' disappearance. Sirius remembered him sitting at the Potter's dining table, hands folded, and then questioning Regulus' loyalty. How exactly do we know that young Mr. Black is in danger? Sirius' jaw clenched.
His anger must have resonated in his tone. Regulus flinched, shoulders beginning to shake.
"I couldn't let him die," the boy cried. "I can barely live with myself now, even though he survived." An awful sob tore free from his chest.
"Reggie," Sirius whispered softly, quickly dismissing any thought about Dumbledore. This was about Regulus and him right now and no one else. He moved over to where his brother was and sat down in front of him, their legs touching. "Look at me."
The boy shook his head.
"No, look at me. It's important." Sirius reached out, peeled the boy's hands away from his face. "Come on, open your eyes, little one."
Regulus slowly lifted his eyes at that.
Sirius forced a smile in an attempt to alleviate the obvious fear that shone in Regulus' eyes, even though he was still shaking inwardly from what he'd just learned. He chose the following words carefully. "Thank you for telling me this. You have no idea how much this act of trust means to me."
Regulus closed his eyes again. Tears spilled down reddened cheeks. "I'm so incredibly sorry."
As far as Sirius was concerned, there was only one answer to this. No rage, no anger, no disappointment. Only sadness for his brother, and maybe relief, in a way. At least now he knew. It was all over. "Open your eyes, love. I know. I know you're sorry. And you know what? I love you. And it's all forgiven."
Regulus almost couldn't believe the words coming from Sirius' mouth. Hadn't his brother listened, because how could he say such things after everything Regulus had done? No, he must have listened, but had he truly understood him too?
Sirius' fingers, tenderly brushing across his cheeks, taking tears with them. A continuous murmur of "It's okay, it's alright."
Forgiven. He was forgiven.
And for the first time in months, in years even, there were no lies standing between them. Regulus leaned forwards, pressed his head against Sirius' chest. He could feel his brother's breath hitching too. And then Sirius' arms went around him, rocking him gently.
Home, that was nothing more than two arms holding him tightly despite everything he'd done, no matter how often he'd pushed them away.
Unconditional.
Unwavering.
Like a fortress.
He couldn't break their bond, not even if he wanted to. They were family.
"Just to be clear, you didn't deserve any of what Bellatrix did to you," Sirius said in a low voice. "What happened to the journalist would have happened anyway. You saved him, Reggie. If you hadn't been there, he would've died."
"But I lied to you," Regulus whimpered. "Aren't you mad?"
He felt a soft chuckle in Sirius' chest. "Seriously kid? No. We can talk about how to avoid the lying later - much later. As of now, I'm simply proud of you for telling the truth."
Regulus hadn't seen it like that yet. He's proud?! "You shouldn't be proud of me."
"Yes I should."
Sirius caressed the side of Regulus' face, noticed how cold his skin was. "You're freezing," he whispered.
Regulus shrugged. "It's winter."
Sirius chuckled. "True. And we've been sitting here for quite a while now, have we not?"
"Do you want to go home?"
Sirius smiled at the word home. "Can we? Or is there anything else that you want to get off your chest?"
Anything else to leave in this playhouse? So we can go down the slide and create different footprints in the snow; light and confident ones, with nothing heavy pushing us down.
Regulus hugged Sirius tighter. Maybe his words were going to sound childish, but he didn't care. He'd cried in front of Sirius today, he'd told him the worst of the worst and Sirius had listened and forgiven him, so he could also tell him this. "I don't hate you," he confessed. They had been words said in a moment of rage, but what was said was said. He could only take them back in the hope that they hadn't grown roots. "I shouldn't have said that. Because… I love you a lot."
Sirius smiled against his forehead. When Regulus looked up, his big brother had tears glistening in his eyes.
On their way home, the first snow since day started falling, and within a few minutes, the clouds had sprinkled a thin white sheet over old footprints.
tbc…
A/N: Phew! That was long, I know. But I've been dying to write this. I hope this wasn't too long, so please tell me what you liked/disliked about it!
To all the guest reviewers, Kam, Ariana, Tizia, and all the others - merci beaucoup for your lovely reviews!