threat
Barty did not know how to love without violence. The only gentle love he had ever had was from his mother, and all memories of her were tainted by the presence of his father. Barty’s love was loud, aggressive, and bloody. Regulus was the only person who knew that Barty wanted, so desperately, to love kindly, but simply did not know how. It was not his fault, it was not something he could control. So, Regulus took it. He let Barty be violent and was violent in return. They could pretend to be soft, for a moment, but it was never true or long-lived.
Regulus knew Barty to be reckless, but when they were at school, he could at least keep an eye on him, making sure all the aggression was not self-destructive. Regulus would take all of Barty’s anger if it meant he would not hurt himself. But now, during Christmas break, Regulus could not help him. He just had to watch. And he understood, of course he did, because until last summer, he had been living with his parents as well, and he knew what that environment could do to a person. The knowledge of this didn’t make it any easier to watch it happen to someone he loved.
The text came while Regulus was watching a movie with James and Sirius, and Regulus hated that he knew it wouldn’t be good.
Dad’s just thrown a bottle at me lmao
The image attached made Regulus want to throw up.
Glass shards embedded into Barty’s arm, blood dripping down onto the porcelain sink. Underneath the new cuts, Barty had carved ‘REGULUS’ into his skin. Regulus didn’t know how long ago he had done it, just that the skin was starting to knit over itself and heal, and Barty had not even told him. This was Barty’s way, of course. He had sent the photo so that Regulus would see.
Why did you do that?
Me? My dad’s the one who threw the bottle
This was a game to Barty, dancing around a topic to irritate Regulus. Regulus put down his phone for a moment, unsure of what to do. There seemed to be no point in trying to help Barty. No matter how many times Regulus suggested that he move out of his father’s house, Barty would never leave. He wouldn’t give a reason, but Regulus knew it was because he couldn’t leave his mother alone with his father. This did not stop Regulus from hoping against hope that Barty would come to his senses.
When Regulus picked his phone back up, there were nine new messages.
Are you ignoring me?
What the fuck Regulus
Fucking injured over here and you don’t even care
Do you even love me?
I’m sorry
Please don’t ignore me Reg
I love you so much
Did you see what I did for you?
Answer me
I’m not ignoring you.
I’m sorry, I just put my phone down for a second. I love you too. Please don’t hurt yourself.
Regulus had entirely lost track of the movie, just making sure that Barty was okay. He talked him through taking out the glass, cleaning the cuts, and just prayed that Barty wouldn’t do anything to provoke his father any further. Barty Crouch Sr. was cruel; he was abusive and he was easily angered, it was never Barty’s fault. But, shamefully, Regulus wondered if Barty enjoyed it; it was no secret that he liked to infuriate his father, everything he’d ever done had been an act of rebellion, but Regulus couldn’t help but think that Barty liked the pain that came with his father’s rage. God knows Barty was always trying to get Regulus to hurt him, begging to be hit or choked or made to bleed for saying something wrong.
“You okay?” James asked quietly from beside Regulus. Regulus had completely forgotten that James was there until he spoke. “You’ve not been paying attention to the movie.”
“Um, yeah. Barty’s been texting me. He gets…He doesn’t like being ignored,” Regulus responded carefully, and James’s concerned look turned into something darker.
“He’s not good for you,” James muttered.
“You don’t know him,” Regulus gritted out, and pretended not to know what James meant. “And you have no idea what’s ‘good for me’.”
James’s face softened. “Just…you’ll tell me if he tries something, right?”
Regulus nodded and did not ask what James meant, maybe because he didn’t want to know what James thought of Barty, or maybe because he already did, because he already understood. James’s eyes seemed to linger on Regulus, leaving his face feeling warm and his fingers trembling as he texted Barty back.
The first night that they were back at school, Barty held Regulus so tightly that Regulus worried he would have bruises in the morning. But Barty needed this, needed tangible proof that he was loved and not alone. The first days back after holidays were always difficult for Barty, being away from his mother after enduring his father’s heavy hands and fists, smashed bottles and not a moment of peace. Regulus did not attempt to pull away, even as his body started to ache.
“You’ll never leave me, right?” Barty mumbled, his face hidden in Regulus’s shoulder as if it would make him sound any less vulnerable.
“Never,” Regulus promised, running a hand through Barty’s hair.
“Good,” Barty said. Then, after a moment, “No one else could love you the way I do anyway, Regulus. You can’t leave me. No one else will ever love you.”
Regulus didn’t know if Barty realised the weight of his words, the undertone of a threat paired with the hands digging into Regulus’s waist. Whatever this was, it wasn’t healthy. But Regulus meant what he said. He would not leave Barty, not even as his hips bruised and he caught glimpses of his name scratched into his boyfriend’s arm.