you're safe with me

1

Sirius never thought that the possibility that one phone call could turn his entire world upside down.

Turns out, it can, and it happened to him on a Wednesday at the end of August.

Sirius wakes up to being shaken. Grumbling, he swats the hand offending him and attempts to roll away. He’s warm, he’s comfortable, and he’s pretty sure it’s far too early to be woken up.

"Pads."

"No," he groans, but it comes out muffled and garbled into the pillow he’s smushed his face into.

"Sirius," Moony growls. "Get the phone."

In protest, Sirius just shoves his face further into the pillow. He still can’t believe that he allowed Moony to talk them into getting a house phone. The stupid thing was nailed to the wall in the kitchen and has caused nothing but bloody havoc. Sirius misses only getting owls. Sure, the phone calls with James and Peter are fun, and even better when James gets Harry on there too, but when the thing wakes Sirius up?

What could possibly be that important to excuse waking him up?

The blaring sound of the ringing grates on Sirius’ ears, but eventually, it stops.

Sirius sighs in happiness, feeling the land of dreams creeping back in. He heavily rolls himself over, scooting himself into Moony’s side. He doesn’t hesitate to sleepily sling an arm and a leg over Moony, clinging to him like a koala. Sighing happily, Sirius melts back into the bed just as Moony’s arm curls around his shoulder to hold him close.

Then the phone rings again.

"Fuck!" Sirius growls, throwing himself on his back. In a petulant tantrum, he punches the mattress at his side twice before practically launching himself out of bed. He hears Moony chuckling behind him as he stomps out of the room, and, as naked as the day he was born, Sirius storms through the house. When he gets to the kitchen, he snatches the phone off he wall and shouts, "What!?"

"Good morning, Pads," James’ voice comes through. "Nice of you to finally bloody answer."

"What do you want?" Sirius says, tone dripping with venom.

"Where you still sleeping?" James asks, sounding with disbelief.

He glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. It’s actually gone nine o’clock, so it’s not as early as he thought, but he’s still pissed about being woken up. Him and Moony only have three more days before he goes back to Hogwarts and is leaving Sirius all alone and blue balled. Every second counts, and the agenda of sleepy morning sex is now off the table for today. "What do you want?"

"I, uh," James stammers down the line. "I have some pretty… shocking news, Pads."

Within an instant, Sirius’ heart starts pounding.

"What’s happened?" He asks, feeling his palms begin to sweat against the plastic phone in his hand. "Are you okay? Is it Lily? Merlin, please tell me Harry is okay! Oh, Merlin, is it Harry? Is it Wormtail? Did he cut his finger off again in the shop?"

"We’re all fine," James says. "Wormtail too. I promise, Pads—"

"Is it good news?" Sirius asks frantically, praying that it’s good news. "Are you pregnant!?"

"No!" James half-shouts. "No, no and no! We’re all fine, everyone has all their fingers, and no one is pregnant!"

Sirius frowns, thoroughly confused. "Then… what could possibly—"

He cuts himself off when James sighs loud and long down the phone.

"Sirius, it’s your parents."

Within a second, it’s as if all the air has been sucked out of the room.

Parents.

Walburga and Orion Black haven’t been Sirius’ parents in a long time, and it’s debatable if they were ever worthy of the title in the first place.

Sirius was lucky to have lasted 16 years in that house. He’s pretty sure if he’d never met James, he wouldn’t be alive today. They would have killed him, they even tried. He was half dead when he made it to the Potter house all those years ago, collapsing through the floo into a bloody and beaten heap on their living room rug.

Sirius hasn’t seen, heard, or spoken to Walburga and Orion Black since that day. He left, and they didn’t chase him. He’s thankful everyday that they didn’t love him or even remotely like him enough to try and drag him back.

Years upon years of abuse, loneliness, torment, blood and tears and pain. That’s all it was. There was nothing good in that house, and Sirius managed to get out. He got out, scathed and bloody, but he got out. He went to one place, that wasn’t Hogwarts, he was made to feel safe and he was welcomed with open arms.

He will forever be in debt to the Potters. Since he was 11, he’d considered Effie and Monty Potter as his surrogate parents, and when he moved in with them when he was 16, he became part of a family. Sirius learned what a family was by living with the Potters, and he’ll never stop being grateful for that.

His entire family, par from Andromeda and his late Uncle Alphard, are fucking insane. He hates them all, and he’s spent the last eight years trying to get past the torture he was put through inside the walls of Grimmauld Place.

He’s not prepared to undo all the healing he’s done just because they’ve got themselves tied up with the Aurors. James has no right to drag Sirius into this. He has no ties to that family anymore.

He’s been disowned.

He’s been stuck off the bloody family tapestry.

Whatever this is about, it does not, and will not, concern Sirius.

Barely able to contain his growing anger, Sirius grounds out, "Prongs, I don’t c—"

"I think you will today," James cuts him off briskly. "Look, I don’t want to tell you too much until I see you in person."

"Where are you?" Sirius asks.

"St Mungo’s."

Sirius swallows thickly.

Walburga and Orion are in the hospital.

Why the fuck does James think that Sirius needs to know this?

"Are they alive?"

"There was an attack on Grimmauld last night. Neither of them made it."

Good, Sirius thinks.

He doesn’t even hesitate.

Fucking good.

It’s been a long time coming, but finally it is here. The Earth will be a better fucking place now.

"Then why do I need to come to St Mungo’s?" Sirius asks. "Andy works there. Surely she can identify them if needed?"

"I don’t need you here for them," James replies, and Sirius’ residue anger and bitterness at the mention of his parents evaporates as his mind is completely blinded by confusion.

"Then why do you need me to come to the hospital?"

"Pads, there’s no easy way to say this," James says slowly, "but… you have a little brother."

Sirius’ brain short-circuits. Suddenly, harshly, all his thoughts come to a grinding halt. Mental whiplash obliterates him.

Did James say brother?

"W-what?"

"You have a little brother, Pads," James repeats, patient and soft. "We found him in the house."

"I— I don’t—" Sirius cuts himself off, breath stuttering along with his words. In a voice that is small and fragile, he asks, "Please tell me this is a joke."

It takes a moment for James to answer, and in the time he waits for the reply, Sirius gets his hopes up that this is some sick, twisted, nasty prank.

"It’s not a joke, Sirius."

"Pads?"

Sirius spins around, almost dropping the phone. Moony is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at him quizzically. He’s got a jumper on, his hair a mess, and normally, it would be enough for Sirius to drop to his knees, but his thoughts are spinning so fast that the room begins to go with it.

"What’s going on?" Moony asks, eyes wide with concern. When Sirius doesn’t answer, he steps down the last step and asks, "Who’s on the phone? What’s happened?"

Sirius opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. The nonexistent words die on his tongue, and all he can do is gape like a fish.

"Sweetheart, you’re scaring me," Moony says, coming to stand in front of him. "Is it James on the phone?"

Sirius nods soundlessly, and Moony gently takes the phone out of his hand. Sirius’ arm falls to his side like a puppets whose strings have been cut, lifeless and listless.

"Prongs?" Moony says into the phone. "What the fuck is going on?"

Sirius doesn’t know what James says, but he must say enough because within a few moments, the blood drains out of Remus’ face.

"Bloody hell," the taller boy exhales, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Okay. You’re still there?… Okay, I’ll let him know… Okay, mate… Yeah, we love you too."

Remus puts the phone back on the receiver, then he looks at Sirius.

"I…" Sirius croaks, shaking his head. "I don’t…"

"It’s okay," Remus murmurs softly, gently tugging Sirius into his chest. Sirius goes easily, hiding his face in the fabric of Remus’ jumper that he’d thrown on since Sirius got up. "It’ll be okay, Pads. We… we’ll figure it out."

"I have a brother," Sirius rasps, feeling like the words are individual punches to his chest. "I have a brother, Moony. A b-baby brother, and he— he’s in the h-hospital."

"I know," Remus says, his arms tightening around him. "What do you want to do?"

Nothing, Sirius thinks. I want to go back to bed and forget this is happening.

Eight years.

Eight years of meltdowns, nightmares, and eventually, healing.

Eight years of fighting his own mind, the voice in his head, the phantom pains of his parents rage that plagued and scarred his skin.

Eight years, and now it’s all come crashing down.

Sirius doesn’t want to deal with it.

He doesn’t want to face it.

He wants to do what he used to do when shit got tough; he wants to pretend it isn’t happening.

But he can’t.

Not this time.

Because this time, it’s different.

There’s now someone who’s going to be waiting for Sirius. Another person who might need the same support that Sirius needed, relied on, depended on to be able to breath and live after Grimmauld Place.

Someone else needs that now, and Sirius can’t turn his back on them, no matter how painful it’s going to be.

"I need to go," Sirius says. He pulls back from Remus, clearing his throat, nodding. In a stronger voice, he repeats, "I need to go to St Mungo’s."

"Okay," Remus nods, flashing Sirius a smile when he blinks in surprise at the ease of the taller mans agreement. "Whatever you want, Pads. Whatever you choose to do, I’m going to be by your side."

"Okay," Sirius whispers. "Thank you."

***

Sirius goes to St Mungo’s alone. Remus offers repeatedly, and Sirius knows it was all genuine, but Sirius decides that he needs to go alone. He knows nothing about this kid that is apparently his baby brother, and while he prays that this kids childhood was nothing like his, the kid is still going to be pretty shook up. He’s in hospital, after all, so whatever went down with his parents must have scared the kid enough for the Aurors to take him to St Mungo’s.

Sirius is praying for the best, but he has a sinking feeling that his prays aren’t going to be answered.

Sirius has no idea if this kid knows that he has an older brother. If he knows Sirius exists, what picture did his parents portray him in?

This kid might hate him already.

This kid might fear him.

Or, this kid might not know Sirius exists.

He’s not sure what’s going to be easiest.

Sirius exits the floo system on shaky legs, barely managing to keep himself upright as he steps out into the admissions area of the ground floor. He casts a shaky charm to rid him off the soot from his clothes and hair, and then he quickly notices James across the room.

Sirius was so proud of James when he went into the Auror academy after Hogwarts. Having spent so long torn between becoming an Auror and pursuing his dream of becoming a pro Quidditch player, James announced two weeks before graduation that he’d applied for Auror training. Half struck with surprise and half overcome with pride and excitement, everyone had supported James’ decision. Ever since Sirius has known James, he’s always been a protector. Destined to the fight for justice, to fight for right, to look out for the underdog in life, James has made the most perfect Auror.

While Sirius and the rest of their friends worry about James’ safety every time he goes out to work, he’ll never stop being proud of his best friend.

"Hey, mate," James says solemnly when he’s standing in front of him. "I…"

"I know," Sirius nods, swallowing thickly. "I don’t know either."

James’ face twists with pain, and in a swift moment, the two of them are clutching each other. The hug is desperate, tight, and Sirius doesn’t hesitate to hide his face in the shoulder of his taller friend.

"This is so shit," James exhales. "Fuck, Pads."

"Hey," Sirius says, pulling back and nudging his friend lightly, trying to make James look less constipated. "I’m meant to be the one of the verge of a mental breakdown right now, not you."

"I’m sorry," James says quickly, shaking his head.

Sirius’ chest clenches painfully. He realises then that James is hurting for him, but he’s also hurting from the weight of what’s happened. James looks haggard, hair a mess from running his fingers through it, his neck red from where he’s clearly been rubbing it.

Sirius hasn’t seen James like this in a long time. He hasn’t seen James look this pulled apart since his parents got sick while Lily was pregnant with Harry, and that was the hardest time in his life.

It scares him to think of what James has witnessed to make him appear so shaken and so angry.

"Prongs," Sirius starts, and when James looks at him, he asks, "What happened?"

James stares at him for a moment. His eyes seemed dimmed and bright at the same time. Defeated and angry. Distraught and furious.

"There was a fire. It’s still under investigation of how it started, but judging from the state of the house now, it appears to have been some kind of explosion. It took out the entire back of the house. By the time they got the fire to stop, your parents were practically unrecognisable. They were clearly caught in the initial blast."

"Okay," Sirius nods. He genuinely isn’t affected by this part. As far as he is concerned, Walburga, Orion and Grimmauld Place was dead to him eight years ago. If anything, it makes it a hell of a lot easier if the place is burnt to a crisp. At least them Sirius isn’t lumbered with the chore of clearing it out. "So they became BBQ food?"

James smiles, clearly relaxing at Sirius’ clear coping with the situation. "Yeah, mate. They’re well and properly charred."

"And the kid?"

James’ smile falters instantly. "We were called to try and help discover if there was any clear signs of foul play. We were upstairs looking through the rooms when we heard footsteps in one of the bedrooms on the top floor. The door was locked from the outside, and when we got inside, we found him hiding in the wardrobe."

"Was he hurt?"

James’ jaw clenches. "Not from the fire."

Sirius’ stomach drops to his toes.

No.

No, no no.

"Where is he?"

"He’s in the room they’ve given him. We’ve had an Auror on the door around the clock since he came in," James explains, and at Sirius’ alarmed look, he quickly adds, "It’s just a precaution. We’re not worried, but we also don’t want to take any risks. We haven’t been able to rule out foul play yet, and we want don’t want to take any chances at someone getting to him."

"Right," Sirius croaks, throat dry. "Can I… can I see him?"

"Yeah," James nods. "He’s sleeping, but of course you can, mate."

"Okay," Sirius exhales, and when James pushes off the wall, Sirius has to force his feet to move.

James navigates them through the hospital all the way up to the paediatric ward. Each steps echoes in Sirius’ ears, rattling his brain. They pass room after room, healers running around and trolleys being pushed. Sirius can barely pay any attention to it, keeping his eyes on James’ back and forcing himself not to throw up on his own shoes.

They’ve put his brother in a private room in the end the ward. There’s a chair outside by the door, and Sirius instantly recognises the uniform clad officer sitting there.

Frank looks up as him and James approach, and instantly, he flashes them a smile.

"Hey, mate," Sirius smiles back, though he’s sure it comes out as a grimace.

"Morning, Sirius," Frank greets, standing up. Without hesitation, Frank reaches for a hug and Sirius falls into it. After a moment, they pull away, and Frank adds,  "It’s good to see you, mate. Though, I do wish this was under better circumstances."

"Yeah," Sirius mutters wearily. "Tell me about it."

"I’m sure it won’t bother you, but I gotta admit I’m not sorry about your parents," Frank says, and Sirius blinks in surprise. It’s not the lack of sympathy that takes him by surprise, but the sound of dripping venom from Frank’s tone that does. He watches as Frank glances briefly at the room beside them before he adds, "Good fucking riddance to the pair of them."

A surprise laugh punches its way out of Sirius’ chest.

"Yeah," he nods, sobering up. "I agree."

"Has Andy been along recently?" James asks.

Frank nods. "She just left a few minutes ago, but she said she’d be back in about half an hour to check on him again."

"Okay," James nods.

"I’ll give you guys some space," Frank says, clapping Sirius on the back.

"Alright, mate," James nods. "Thanks."

"Good to see you, Sirius," Frank adds, and Sirius flashes him a weak smile before the Auror is walking off.

"Ready, Pads?"

Sirius inwardly cringes. "That sounds daunting."

"This is hard enough as it is, but seeing him… it’s not going to be a happy reunion," James warns, and Sirius feels his stomach roll dangerously.

"How bad?" He dares to ask.

James nods to the window. "He’s in there. Just... just remember that he’s safe now. Okay? He’s safe, and he’s in good hands."

His blood roars in his ears as he steps up to the window. Hands clammy and shaking at his sides, his heart racing, Sirius steps up to see his baby brother for the first time.

When he looks through the window, he can’t keep his mouth from opening in horror.

The kid in the bed isn’t just a kid, but barely older than a fucking baby. Tiny, skeletal, pale and battered, the kid on the bed looks more dead than they look alive. Skin so colourless he practically blends into the white sheets he’s laying on, Sirius has seen corpses look healthier. Scrawny, bandage covered arms lay on top of the blankets smothering him, the sight making Sirius barely keep his stomach from rolling.

"What’s his name?"

"Regulus," James replies softly. "Regulus Arcturus Black."

Regulus.

His baby brother.

Sirius’ chest feels impossibly tight. He can’t seem to get enough air into his lungs.

He closes his eyes, clenching them shut so tight he can see white spots.

"How old is he?" He asks, voice shaking with trepidation.

"According to the medical scans, he’s six."

Sirius’ eyes spring open and his jaw drops to the floor.

"Six?!" He shouts, ignoring the pointed glare he gets from a healer walking past at the volume.

"I know," James nods sadly. "He’s practically the same size as Harry."

Sirius just continues to stare in disbelief. This kid, who looks no older than a toddler, is six? He’s barely a lump beneath the blanket.

"I think Andy should answer any questions you have about him," James says. "It’s… it’s not the easiest thing to accept."

Sirius wants to laugh. He wants to laugh, loud and hysterical, filled with the historical Black madness.

Sirius doesn’t need Andy to 'explain'. He doesn’t need someone to break it down to him right now, gently and cautiously. He can fucking see for himself that his parents clearly didn’t grow out of their habits. They didn’t learn by Sirius running away, if anything, they just got worse.

"What else?" Sirius asks through gritted teeth. "Apart from clearly being starved since the day he was fucking born, what else did they do to him?"

James’ eyes widen in alarm. "Andy should—"

"Prongs, please," Sirius begs, tearing his eyes away from the tiny, prone from on the bed beyond the window. He looks at his best friend. "Please, just tell me what they did to him."

James sighs, closing his eyes. "He has a concussion, a broken arm and broken ribs. He’s covered in bruises and cuts, and…"

Sirius clenches his jaw. "What?"

James kisses his teeth, seeming to be working up the gut to spit out whatever awful thing his parents did to this kid next.

"They said he has a remnant tremor from overexposure to the Cruciatus Curse."

The Cruciatus Curse.

His chest seizes.

His stomach rolls violently.

Bile shoots up the back of his throat like a snake striking for its kill.

Sirius' entire body jerks like he's been struck by lightening, and then he's stumbling away, his legs shaking so much he can barely keep himself from collapsing to his knees.

He barely gets himself to the bin before he's gagging and heaving violently.

The Cruciatus Curse.

They crucioed him.

They crucioed his baby brother.

Sirius vomits violently into the bin. His stomach spasms, his throat constricting. The world spins around him, his legs tremble. White noise fills his ears, all he can hear is the vicious voice repeating in his head.

The Cruciatus Curse.

Residue tremors.

Six years old.

"Oh, Merlin," Sirius groans, breath hitching, then he keeps heaving.

There's nothing left to come up. He just gags and heaves up bile that burns his throat and mouth and brings waves of tears to his eyes.

There's a hand on his back, rubbing up and down in soothing motions.

"It’s okay, Pads," James says, and it sounds like he's been saying it for while. The words finally register to Sirius' brain. Anger and hysteria swirls inside of him, and he shakes his head.

"Fucking hell, this is not okay!" Sirius cries, drawing in a shaky breath. "None of this is okay! They had another kid, James! I’ve got a baby brother! And he was there this whole time being used as a fucking rag doll for their tempers! They— he— and I-I didn’t—"

"Okay, deep breath, buddy," James soothes, pulling Sirius up and away from the bin now he's no longer puking his guts up.

Sirius lets himself be lead, only managing to stay up right because James has hold of both of his arms. He's put down in a chair, and James gently guides his head down to his knees. "Deep breaths, Pads. Just breathe, okay?"

Sirius tries to suck in a breath, but the first one catches in his chest and makes him choke and cough.

"Easy, easy," James placates. Sirius realises he’s crouched down in front of him, one hand rubbing Sirius’ knee and the other kneading his shoulder. The touches are grounding, comforting, and Sirius feels childishly safe with James practically shielding him from the world right now.

Sirius tries again, coughing when his throat burns. After a couple of gasps, he manages to draw a full breath into his aching lungs. Gradually, and painfully slowly, the dizziness behind his eyes eases, the tightness in his chest relaxes.

Exhaustion washes over him like a wave, and Sirius can barely keep himself from slumping into a heap on the floor. He feels drained and tired. The earth shattering news this morning, the panic, the vomiting, has left him all spent.

After a few minutes of breathing normally, he lifts his head.

James is still in front of him, looking as tired and worn-down as Sirius feels.

"Prongs…" Sirius starts, voice barely a croak. Against his will, his eyes start watering again.

"You’re right, Pads. It’s not okay. None of this is okay. What happened to him is not okay," James says, his huge brown eyes glistening with tears. He sniffs, seemingly steeling himself before he continues, "But they’re gone, Pads. They’re finally gone, and Regulus is away from them and it’s going to be okay. He is going to be okay."

"How do you know that?"

James flashes him a sad smile.

"Because you were."

Sirius laughs a wet laugh. "I had you, Prongs."

"And I’m going to be there for this kid too," James says immediately, tone firm and strong. "He’s not on his own, and neither are you. We’ve all got you, and we’ve all got him."

Sirius’ chest hurts from the words. James says it with so much finality, so much determination, that Sirius doesn’t doubt for a moment that James means 100% of what he’s saying.

It’s in James’ character to protect everyone, even more so to those who can’t protect themselves. Sirius isn’t surprised that James is already determined to protect Regulus and to do everything he can for the kid. But, just because it’s not unusual, doesn’t mean it isn’t any less astounding.

"Okay," Sirius whispers. He sniffs, nodding, "Okay."

"Okay?" James echoes.

Sirius nods confidently. "Okay. Thank you, Prongs."

James smiles, "Anytime, mate. You’re my brother, remember. Which, technically, makes this little dude my brother too."

A startled laugh bursts out of Sirius, already feeling lighter. "Slow down, Prongs."

James chuckles too, though Sirius doesn’t doubt that James is already planning on integrating Regulus into his family somehow.

James has always loved kids, and the moment he found out that him and Lily were having a baby four years ago, there’s been a light in James’ eyes that has never been snuffed out. James adores Harry, and it’s no surprise that he’s a kick-ass dad.

Sirius realises it’s probably another reason why James seems so distraught by this whole thing. Like for Sirius, this has probably dug up old and dark memories of Sirius’ own abuse,  but it’s also affected James in ways that connect to Harry. It’s harder when you have your own kid at home who you love, and you find another kid who’s been treated worse than a house elf.

"It’s up to you, but do you want to go and sit with him?" James asks cautiously. "I know he’s not awake, but you can still sit in there. Andy will be round soon, and she’ll probably explain a lot more about Regulus than I can."

Sirius swallows thickly, images of that little boy flashing in his mind.

That little boy who’s been treated like Sirius was. Without love, without kindness, and like Sirius, all alone.

Not anymore, Sirius decides. I’m never going to let him feel alone again.

"Yeah," Sirius nods. "Yeah, I want to sit with him."

Regulus may not be awake, but Sirius doesn’t care. Awake or asleep, he doesn’t want Regulus to be alone anymore.

"Okay," James smiles. He stands, holding a hand out to Sirius and juts his head towards the closed hospital door. "Come on, mate."

"Will you stay?" Sirius asks, feeling small.

"Always," James promises instantly. "You can do this, Pads. And more so, you’re not doing it on your own. I’m here, and you’ve got everyone behind you to stop you from falling."

Sirius nods. James is right, like always.

Sirius has had plenty of bad hands given to him in life, and every time he’s got up from it. Kick down after kick down after kick down, and Sirius has never stopped getting back up. Since Hogwarts, he has had an invaluable support system, and he’s still got them.

"Let’s go, Pads," James nudges softly, taking his hand.

— tbc.