At first it didn’t seem like an issue. Just little pieces of time that Regulus would forget. Shakes that would only show up on bad days. Maybe a bit more time than normal to get back up again after going down.
Overall a non issue.
But all it did was get worse and harder. Longer and longer and longer. For hours on end his legs wouldn’t cooperate, most of the time it was only his left leg. Which was where the oddity finally became fully apparent to him. The one side of his body, limb wise, that never had any issues beyond just injuries.
But, as a whole it wasn’t something he actively saw an issue with. He is ill. His body is going to act like it’s ill. That’s generally how it works.
As frustrating as it may be, that's simply life.
And for a while he simply put off mentioning it, not to his friends, not to his partner, not to his brother. Most certainly not to a doctor.
Which is a bit ironic, considering a health issue would most likely normally be followed by talking to a doctor. But for Regulus, who has a large repertoire of health issues on health issues, doctors stop listening to you. To be completely fair they barely listened to him in the beginning, when things first started to seem wrong. To seem off. For some reason the thing one has is always the last thing a doctor will look for. Even if at that point in time what's wrong becomes completely apparent.
Thus, Regulus would’ve refrained from mentioning anything for as long as he could have. Both to live in denial and to keep the people around him unworried.
However, as per tradition, nothing ever the way he had planned it to.
As Regulus sits in a dim room of Lily’s house. He feels himself start to drift. It’s nothing like when you start to fall asleep, it’s as if you're suddenly dropped into a fleshbag that isn’t your own and being expected to know all the controls. And the controls are backwards.
The people surrounding him are talking about the book they had picked last week, about the characters and their motives.
And it’s as if Regulus is consuming the information in his brain but nothing is clicking. He would say it’s like it’s in one ear and out the other, but the words don't exit his brain. They enter his conscience and become a garbled mess he doesn't understand. But he also understands it at the same time.
Nothing makes sense yet at the same time everything does.
His head starts to jerk a bit and Regulus knows. He knows he’s going down.
His eyes aren’t focusing anymore, they shake and they blur. Providing nothing but more confusion for him. So all he can do is try and blink back his control, as if blinking will force the consciousness that is trying so hard to escape him back into his brain. As one could imagine it isn’t doing much.
So he reaches from where he’s sitting on the floor and grabs Remus’ ankle. Both to ground himself and to get someone’s attention. So he can redirect Regulus’ fall so he doesn’t get himself hurt. Normally he’d be braced already, but this was more sudden then he was used to.
He was convinced that it was the dimness of the lighting making him feel a little tired, a little out of it. Not his brain.
Regulus knows he isn’t processing his surroundings, but he knows Remus felt him. He heard his voice in a questioning manner, probably just saying his name. But nothing was making sense, everything was jumbled. Everything was escaping him.
Just as if something shifts, he can feel himself jerk. He can feel his limbs convulse, move without reason, without control. The worst feeling of it is in his neck. Where the tensing of the tendons buried under his skin start to move his esophagus. How the bones of his spine start to grate and get stuck.
Unpleasant.
He feels warmth on his shoulder and a tug into a hard but warm object, most likely a body part.
His knee jerks once more, and he’s out.
__
Coming to is never going to be his favourite part of the experience. The lack of control in his body overall, will never not be unsettling to him.
Slowly, slowly waiting for your limbs to want to be a part of you again is dehumanizing to him in a sense. Even though the cause is inherently human.
“Hey Reg,” the low timber of Remus’ voice calls through his ears. “Are you back with us?” he pauses for a second, “Are you going to go back out?”
Normally with this line of questioning Regulus would reply, but all he can conjure up from himself is a non-committal hum. The thought of talking makes him feel ill. He knows he could, theoretically speak. But at the moment it wouldn’t be loud enough for it to matter. It would fall deaf on Remus’ ears — there’s some comedy in that though — so he ultimately decides to not speak. To wait out the quiet in his vocal cords.
A voice in the back of his mind screams pathetic, and he simply can’t bring himself to care.
“Okay, that’s fine.” Remus says softly, not too loud knowing he likes the quiet. “Lily’s going to go grab James for us, okay?” he snuggles his hand into Regulus’ hair. There’s a quiet ‘I think you’ll want him here instead of me’ nestled into Remus’ words. But they both know it isn’t malicious. Just a yearn for someone who knows what to do and how to act. Someone that’s more than just a friend to him.
Regulus hums, leaning more into Remus’ side. At this point he realizes they’re side by side on the ground. Regulus is between Remus and the couch, with a wall behind him as well making sure he couldn’t fall.
He finds the action sweet.
There’s a light silence coated around them, like a soft blanket. Just comfort and understanding float through the air. Nothing about this silence is sad or tense, just two people coexisting side by side in the same room.
The silence remains that way, even as the sound of the front door opening and footsteps speedily coming up the stairs can be heard.
James pushes open the door to the study with an urgency that can only be found in him when he’s concerned.
“Oh pyaar, are you feeling okay?” James asks as he kneels down in front of him, pushing Regulus’ hair away from his face tucking the hair being his ears.
Regulus can feel as Remus stands and leaves but at the moment all he can think of is having James here. Because he is his person. Comfort that took a human form just for Regulus.
He leans forwards into James’ hands, and swallows a lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.” he mumbles both quietly and hoarsely. His vocal cords are still not willing to fully let him use them.
James’ hand shifts to run up and down Regulus’ bicep, trying to rub comfort into his skin. “It’s okay,” he breathes in deeply. “I just wish you'd told me everything had gotten worse.”
“I’m sorry.” Is all Regulus can really say to that, because he truly is.
“Mere pyaare, it’s okay,” James leans to press his forehead against his. “I love you.”
“I know.”