Thirteenth installment in the series; sequel to ch.6 of Seirios Aster's Little Lion Man, Gotta Get Up From Here

Many the Miles

"I made up my mind when I was young, I've been given this one world, I won't worry it away … But now and again, I lose sight of the good life – I get stuck in a low light, but then my Love comes in…" ~ Many the Miles by Sara Bareilles

"Goddammit Regulus Arcturus Black – I'm going to beat your sorry Slytherin arse if you don't get back here right now," Barty said this as harshly and as loudly as he could possibly manage at the time, which was relatively impressive for someone who was currently confined to a hospital bed and felt like their mouth was on fire and slowly attempting to remove itself from his face. The blond was in no mood for Regulus' normal shenanigans – if he had been unconscious for two days, like everyone was saying, then he was sure his idiot friend had used that ample amount of time away from Barty to talk himself into believing that it was his fault his friend had been beaten up by a couple of little twats that managed to get one up on him, and he was stupidly depressed and … Augh; it was likely a huge mess inside that head of his, and Barty knew that he needed to talk to the boy now to straighten all that shit out, or else Merlin only knew when the next time he saw the brunet would be.

"Listen Reg," Barty started, hearing his friend's footsteps stop – he wanted to stop talking; god he wished he could stop moving his face, but he couldn't. Reg was more important, so stopping for his own comfort wasn't an option. "In case you've somehow spectacularly failed at existence and missed it," he began good-naturedly, "I can't chase after you right now mate. Hell, I probably can't even stand right now – everything hurts. Things I didn't even know could hurt hurt – hell, I think those are the follicles in my head I'm feeling pain from … …" Alright; this train of thought had derailed itself slightly more quickly than Barty would have liked. Pausing, he collected his thoughts again before he continued speaking, least this go down another tangent like it had with Slugghorn the Horned (Horny?) Walrus.

" Right; anyway, back on track," he said, mentally shuddering at that last thought and starting to bring a hand up stiffly to push some hair out of his face – then realizing that his fingers felt really stiff. Brow furrowing, he chanced opening one eye again and blinked a few times, trying to get his vision to come into focus. Ruddy sunset – couldn't see a blasted thing … Eventually, managing to see what was on his hand, his spirits fell slightly more. Those were splints. On every single one of his fingers. Well bollocks.

"What's going on?" Barty almost screamed; he had known that Madame Pomfrey would hear him yell at Reg, and that she would want to come in to see what he was fussing over. Letting out a slow breath, he was about to tell her it was nothing when she apparently deduced what was happening and took it upon herself to try and rectify the situation. "Mr. Black, I think it's about time for you to lea—"

"Madame Pomfrey," the blond interrupted; he knew if he let her finish that sentence Regulus was as good as gone. "With all due respect ma'm, don't take this the wrong way, but you haven't seen me upset yet … However, I promise you will if you make him leave." His voice was almost dull; it wasn't a threat – it was just a statement. Simply because he knew himself – he would get agitated if Reg was left to his own devices, and agitated meant jittery, and jittery meant constantly attempting to move around and not let himself thing, and if he was attempting to move around instead of laying there in the docile manner he had been up until now, his healing was going to go much more slowly … So rather than go through all of that, he thought he'd save the both of them the trouble and headache and just let her know.

She stood there for a long moment, suspicious of his words and motivations, and Barty just looked back at her, lone eye opened and squinting in the general direction of where Madame Pomfrey was standing. After this staring contest, she sighed, taking her hands off of her hips and striding quickly over to the window, drawing the curtains.

"Well you at least don't have to be blind, I suppose," the young medwitch said in a slightly huffy tone of voice. "But not much longer, do you hear?" he didn't say anything as she strode off; just let out a breath of air that had been trapped in his lungs and was making them ache.

"C'mere, you dumb git," the blond muttered after an extended silence that followed her departure – at this point, after he'd bitched about being in pain, he doubted Regulus would argue with him too much more about staying put. At least now he could see, and he did just that with relish, the dim light blocked by the curtain gave enough illumination that he could make out Reg's face, but it was dim enough he could comfortably open both eyes without feeling like he was going blind via pouring acid on his face. And, rather than wait for Regulus to say anything intelligent, Barty just started talking – he knew that he was going to just have to do most of the talking anyway.

"Listen, Reg, I know you've convinced yourself for that this is your fault," he started quietly, voice raspy and jaw throwing a bloody tantrum about being used so much, "and I know telling you it's not isn't going to convince you. You'll just nod and agree with me, and then dig yourself into depression. You know, if being depressed was an occupation, you wouldn't even be here right now – you'd be a child prodigy, and the highest paid wizard in the land, and more of a work-a-holic than my old man—" here he hesitated. For a very long while. Crouch Sr ... Yeah; it was a topic he didn't really like to discuss, but …

"You're right; he's a jackass – my old man, I mean," Barty's voice grew quiet here and he sighed, "believe you me, no one except maybe my mum knows it better than me." Lightly, he shook his head, "but I'm glad he's not here right now – hasn't been here." Unconvincing tone was unconvincing, and that hint of depression was seeping into his voice again … "Reg, they jumped me; out of nowhere. I didn't put up a fight – I didn't have time; I was completely off guard. Suddenly I was just being carted off somewhere and having the tar beaten out of me … Not something Bartemius Crouch Senior would think highly of – so I'd honestly prefer if he knew as few of the details as possible." And I'm sure I won't be disappointed; I'll probably get a howler blaming me for getting into a fight, he thought almost bitterly at the end of that statement, not daring to say it out loud even if it was true. Shifting slightly he winced; it was official – his jaw felt like it was slowly puling itself off of the rest of his head.

"And yeah; I want to get better too, hopefully before my mum gets here and sees me ... You know what?" he paused, looking at Reg with a sort of stern, almost annoyed expression for a long moment. "Don't be a bloody stranger and maybe I won't go completely stir-crazy in here. And besides; it's not like I can come looking for you to beat some sense into you when you're being all non-sensical-like …" the blond sixth year hadn't really meant to say that last part, exactly, but it was true – if Regulus started to wallow in his stupid depression like a Stupid McStupe-stupe, Barty wouldn't know about it, and it wasn't like anyone else in their house would noticed or be arsed enough to care and do something about it, or even mention it to someone.

Anyway, he'd about said his peace, and it was probably pretty sad, but it actually had taken a lot out of him – he was tired, and he wanted to go to sleep again. And stop talking; it was starting to ache all the way up in that hollow under his eyes. The blond didn't turn on his side; that was normally how he slept, but of course moving was basically out of the question for the moment, so he was confined to his back, which was probably the least comfortable position of all for him to be in … … Fuck being injured. Seriously.

"And now I feel like passing out," he muttered with a sigh, though not quite starting to drift off yet. "Between you and Sluggs, I haven't had a second's peace since I woke up. Dumb bastard was in here trying to get me to tell him what happened before I even knew where I was practically." Barty nearly laughed at the notion, but that would have been a sore mistake; he needed to laugh like he needed a hole in his chest – which is probably exactly what it would feel like he had there if he did laugh. "Like I'd tell him anything anyway …" shaking his head slightly, patronizingly amused expression vaguely crossing his face, he yawned a little, which made him wince, and his eyes well up again for a second – goddamn that hurt.

The End …?