DISCLAIMER: J K Rowling thought it all up and now I am playing with some of her characters and situations. David Bowie thought up quite a bit of it, too, including the story and chapter titles and some other sentences and situations.

OF DARKNESS AND DISMAY

The bare branches looked as though they had been sprayed silver. The freezing fog had painted rime onto everything in the tiny front garden. Sirius was too cold to appreciate any of it, not even the delicately decorated spider's web hanging from the wooden gate.

He marched through it, stamping on the crunchy path to keep the blood moving round his feet, while he searched his pockets for the front door key. He stood still for a moment to tear off a glove with his teeth.

That's when he heard the faint: "Sibbus?"

His brain shifted into autopilot, slipped away from the past decade and a half and he replied, "Rellus?"

He was answered with a "Shush," from somewhere close to the ground.

Wary, Sirius stared straight ahead, moving his hand from one pocket to another, even though it now held the key he had been seeking. He waited.

The soft voice came up from the flower bed again.

"You alone?" it asked.

"Uh huh," Sirius confirmed, without moving his lips.

"Empty house?" the urgent whisperer checked.

"Mmm," Sirius assented, unlocking the door.

He hesitated for a fraction of a moment longer that usual and felt the soft brush of fabric across his shins. Then he stepped inside his home. He closed all the curtains and checked the doors before casting Lumos.

Had it not been for the use of the nursery pet name, Sirius wouldn't have recognised the bedraggled creature squatting on his rug as his brother. The eyes were the same grey as his, but lack-lustre and bloodshot, set in deep, dark hollows. His skin was grey. Stubble covered most of the lower half of his face and his hair was cut close to his scalp - but it was the right deep black colour.

"What's going on?" Sirius asked.

Regulus hugged himself, then croaked, "Left the Death Eaters."

"Great," Sirius replied, though it didn't look like it was suiting Regulus. "When did you last eat?" Regulus shrugged his bony shoulders. The shock was wearing off and Sirius registered the smell. It wasn't good. "Look, sit on the settee. Get comfy. I'll erm …"

He wandered towards the kitchen area on the other side of the room. He didn't know what they had in the cupboards.

Regulus pushed himself up off the floor, slowly, painfully, then lurched towards the nearest seat, muttering, "Had something to do. Done now. Just thought I'd like to see you. Last time." He collapsed onto the cushions and emitted a moan of pleasure. They had been raised in luxury, cosseted with comfort, yet now he was responding to an under-stuffed secondhand couch as if it were the pinnacle of pleasure. He let his head fall back and he closed his eyes.

"Have you even had anything to drink?" Sirius checked.

His baby brother's only response was a secret smile to himself. Sirius brought him a glass of water anyway, then went back to slicing ham and grating cheese onto some fairly hard bread. He pointed his wand at the kettle.

Regulus put the tap water to his chapped lips, then gave a little mewl of pleasure as he sipped it. He winced when he swallowed, but the pain made him smile to himself again.

When Sirius brought over the rough sandwich, Regulus asked, "You live on your own?"

"Got a housemate, but he's away tonight."

"And last night." Regulus nodded. "Been watching."

"You were out there in this weather last night?"

Regulus nibbled cautiously at the edge of the bread. Swallowing seemed painful again. He sipped more water. Then he said, "Can't be too careful."

"He's safe anyway. Trustworthy."

Regulus shook his head. "Trust no-one. There's a mole in your Order. Could be you for all I know."

Rather than addressing how Regulus knew about the secret Order of the Phoenix, Sirius asked, "So what happens when you leave the Death Eaters, then? How does that work?"

"They hunt me down and kill me."

Sirius didn't know how to respond to that. He just watched in silence as Regulus worked his painful way through the food. He wished that they had had a tin of soup in - or that he could cook. He relied on Remus far too much for that sort of thing. He missed his company, too. The cottage had been a dead place the night before. He had had to turn the radio up loud just to fill some air. It couldn't be helped, they were too close to too many people here and there was nowhere secure enough for the transformations.

"Been to see the parents?" Sirius asked eventually.

Shaking his head, Regulus muttered, "First place they'll look."

"I'll talk to some people, get you a safe place --" Sirius began.

"Won't work. Just endanger others. I'll have to go soon. Not safe. Just it's been years since I saw you."

The kettle whistled to announce that it had boiled and Sirius went to make a pot of tea.

"I saw you a couple of years ago, actually," he said. "Went to see your band."

"The John Bull gig," Regulus confirmed, his eyes closed again.

"You knew?"

The sharpness of his brother's tone made Regulus straighten up and look at him.

"Suspected," he corrected. "Recognised one of your little Gryffindor pals."

"You were alright," Sirius conceded. It was more than he had admitted at the time.

"We were great." Regulus stretched out, smiling to himself nostalgically. "The sound levels weren't perfect but I was fucking brilliant!"

Sirius smiled, too. The arrogance was easier to enjoy when it came from this broken man than it had been from the glittering, talented, attention-magnet he had been on stage.

"You were alright," he repeated.

Sirius brought over mugs and the teapot. It was only when he began to pour that he remembered.

"Shit! Sorry, we're out of milk. I don't take it."

"Nor do I."

"That's weird. I don't know anyone else who drinks naked tea."

Regulus chuckled and opened one sleepy eye: "Black tea," he joked.

Sirius barked a laugh. "That must be it!"

"One cup then I go," Regulus murmured, though he was clearly drifting off to sleep.

"Bollocks! You need a good night's sleep in a proper bed and there's one going spare here tonight." After a quick thought and a sniff, Sirius added, "You'll need a bath first."

"That bad, huh?" Regulus asked. Then he forced himself to sit upright and gave his brother a determined stare. "I can't stay. Anyone found with me will be in danger. I'm dead anyway. It hardly matters if I smell like it's already happened."

"I like a duel with a Death Eater, I do. One night. We're well warded. Remember that game we used to play with the coins? I've got a Wizard Chess set somewhere, I might even let you beat me if you're dying. What happened to my tin Valkyries collection after I left? Your hair looks better short. You can borrow my razor. Shall I put some Firewhiskey in this?"

Without waiting for any replies, Sirius leapt to his feet and retrieved the only thing in the kitchen which he could ever remember where it was kept. He poured a good slug of the alcohol into each of their mugs. Regulus gasped and shuddered after his first mouthful, but took the second readily enough, then said, "I forgot you always get your own way, big brother."