Last Goodbye – The Black Family

For the Christmas Character Challenge by The Kawaii Neko

4 – Family – write about any family, together

Sirius' eyes reflect the firelight; dark and hard as a sword newly sheathed in goblin-wrought silver. Something stirs in their iron-grey depths, hotter than anger, older than age itself. "I have to, Regulus," he says, tones burred with despair, "you see that, don't you?"

Something stirs in Regulus too, deep in the heart of his guts, a knife, twisting slowly. "I don't see," he answers, trying to still the shake in his voice. "I don't see at all. How could you leave us? We're your family" –

"Family!"

Regulus winces at Sirius' shout, sharper than a poker in a fire. Sirius lifts a hand to his temple, dabs at the blood streaking his skin and hair and moves his fingers, fine and stiff as marble, over the livid purple bruises forming beneath his eyes. "Father and Mother – and you, yes, you, Regulus – you saw what Bellatrix did to me, and you did nothing to stop her. She cursed me, brother, and you stood by and watched."

Regulus' head jerks up at his brother's tone, fraught with guilt and grief as it is. He cannot help himself; their eyes meet, his own light grey probing the darker, wishing, and willing, to join the other in its anguish.

"I couldn't stop her," he says, and hopes with all his might that his brother would believe this truth. "She's stronger than I am, Sirius – she'd… she'd have killed me."

"No." Warmth colours Sirius' tones. "She needs you alive and well, to join her in service to her Lord. You're a skilled wizard – you have a wand – it is past time that you learnt to use it."

"I – I couldn't – Mother – Father" – Regulus casts a glance to their left, where Father and Mother stand in the shadows. Grey in the shade of the great tapestry, and still as statues. Strange, to see Mother so unmoved, her vitality bound like a prisoner with irons.

But Father moves forward, away from the shadows, into the light opposite Sirius, frosty stare boring into his older son.

"You are of age, now, Sirius, and we cannot stop you if you wish to leave. Joining forces with the Dark Lord is your duty to your family, and is in your best interest" –

"Never" –

"Very well," Father continued, and the coldness in his voice makes Regulus shiver, "then you leave with nothing. Your inheritance will be revoked, and you shall have no further contact with your mother and myself. Your brother… he may do as he wishes, with regards to you."

Sirius turns, levitates his suitcase with his wand. "So be it." He looks up at the carved ceiling, eyes sliding gently down the stone walls, and then darting, quicker than lighting, to Regulus, holding his gaze and locking it with his own, "I somehow doubt that I'll ever regret leaving. Except… you, Regulus – you could have made something of yourself. I shall be sorry to miss you growing up."

"Stay and find out," Regulus suggests.

"No."

"Please."

"I can't, Reggie."

"I – I thought you loved me," Regulus says quietly. He moves closer; his breath ghosts down Sirius' neck, and he sees the goose bumps rise. His body stiffens as Regulus moves into the curve beneath his arm. Regulus fits perfectly there, it is a safe haven made for him.

"I did – I do. But I have to leave. Please don't force me, Regulus."

Regulus leans against the firm chest, counting every heaving breath. A hand ghosts over his hair, then falls away. "No," says Sirius firmly, and turns back to his suitcase.

"You don't love me" – begins Regulus, and reaches out an arm, again. It is a mistake. His fingers have barely touched the gashes on Sirius cheek, when he is thrust aside abruptly.

The push has greater force than his slender form can bear. He goes flying across the room, and slams into the fender of the fireplace. Something damp trickles down his temple, and white spots flicker on the peripheries of his vision.

"Goodbye, Regulus," Sirius says.