How, Why, When, Where?
000. SIRIUS BLACK.
How, Why, When, Where?
March 27th.
His mother should die first.
That was his first thought when he turned on the radio, when the blaring began outside, when the man chattering rapidly on the unsteady channel began speaking of the apocalypse. Sirius wondered who actually died first. Was it a little girl or a mortician tending to the dead? Was it some man with a wife and maybe a son walking down the street, and then suddenly, unexpectedly, a zombie, of all things, the walking dead, ran up to him and bit him and killed him? Certainly, it couldn't be his mother. Much to Sirius' disappointment, she was in the living room, sobbing to her insufferable husband about how everyone was going to die. Distressingly, she was very much alive.
Perhaps his first thought should've been something more scientific (at least he could pretend to be smart, for a moment at least). Something like, how? How could zombies be roaming the earth now? Was it some botched experiment from up in the mountains, was it a spore of some kind? Maybe the religious psychos who trotted near the homeless shelters were right; this was Armageddon. Maybe the military - because it was always them in fiction, wasn't it? Always the military - made some sort of bioweapon. Mustard Gas 2.0 now turns your enemies into zombies! How convenient. How necessary. If not the military, then who? Then what? What could've done this? Back to the scientists because, logistically, it would be them. They had their fancy molecules and atoms and genetic mutation, cloning. Maybe they were making some sort of artificial child, new technology, perhaps DNA testing, and when the child finally came, it was just wrong. Maybe it was radiation that caused this. Some new Nuclear Power Plant, a collapse, another Chornobyl, somehow killed and then brought back the dead. Something like that.
Or, instead of how did this happen, what about why did it happen? Why are we suddenly plagued by monsters? If Sirius were to ask his mother, she would say something silly, something like: it's divine punishment, God has sent this disease on us as a consequence of humanity's sins. Although, he would go with science rather than the divine.
How about when? When, exactly, approximately, did this zombie apocalypse begin? Yesterday? A week ago? A month ago? A year? Had it been kept under wraps? Had zombies been in some containment cells underground, in, say, Area 51? If they had been contained, how long?
Then Sirius stopped.
His brother. What would come of his brother if this apocalypse was happening? Surely, Walburga and Orion would do nothing but attempt to save their hides. Perhaps they would think briefly of their youngest boy - they'd never think anything of their eldest son, after all, he was the disappointment - and how he would be a proper heir. But the heir to what? Maybe, due to this apocalypse, the House of Black would be eradicated. (Was it wrong that gave Sirius a sharp feeling of glee? He was not in the House of Black; he'd been disowned years prior, but his brother...)
His "parents" would leave Regulus behind. It was not so much as a hunch as it was a gut-wrenching, wholehearted belief. It pumped through Sirius like blood.
Regulus had sent a letter a week prior, and Sirius had received it today. It read,
Dear Sirius.
I know it has been a long time, yet I still find myself yearning to see you. Despite it all, you are my brother still. I miss you. Truly. I do. I regret what I said when you were packing to run away. I regret what I said when I saw you when we returned to school. I was needlessly cruel. I was hurt, but now I realise I have little right to be. You protected me until I did not need protecting. You left when it was best for both of us. I know you thought, and perhaps still think, that I should've gone with you, but my life has not been terrible since you left. I want to see you again, Sirius. Is there a place where we can meet? I want to see you again. Please? I only want to talk. It doesn't even need to be for that long. Would you like to meet in London? Perhaps a muggle restaurant? I haven't been to one of those in a long time.
If you're up for it, I urge you to come see me. I miss you. I don't want this to be a letter that makes you feel guilty. But, Sirius, the words I said back then were awful. They were so awful. When I said them, you looked so sad, so distraught. I don't want you to hate me. That is the last thing I want. I want to fix things if I can.
Your Brother,
RAB.
Neither of them had decided on a place to eat, so Regulus, timidly, said that, perhaps, they could stay in Grimmuald. Just for lunch, Regulus reassured him, only for lunch. Then they would be off. When Regulus said this, Sirius was certain this had all been a front. Some sort of ploy made by their parents to drag Sirius back to this wretched house, kicking and screaming, and force him to swear he would never tell anyone about how awful they had been to him. They'd make Sirius swear on his life or his brother's life - although they would never take Regulus from him - that he would never tell any of his dirty-blooded friends about how he got any of his scars. 'A little secret', Orion had once called it. He was still holding the cane. 'It'll be our little secret. A family secret. And we don't turn our backs on family.'
'Only a moment,' Regulus had said as they idled in the doorway. 'I'll only be a moment. I'll get my wallet, and we can just find someplace to eat. You can wait outside for a moment, okay?' It wasn't just a moment. It was ten, then fifteen, and at twenty minutes, Regulus sped out the door, ashen-faced. When he spoke, his voice was strained and cracked slightly at the last word, 'Come inside.'
At first, Sirius said no. Of course, he wouldn't come inside. He vowed never to go back, and just by being in the presence of this horrible place, he was already breaking his promise. He wouldn't come inside. It turned into an argument, and then that argument turned into pleading on Regulus' end. Sirius had never seen Regulus beg before. Not to this extent. On the fateful day when Sirius had run away, Regulus had asked him not to stay. Once or twice, that quiet night had some please-es here and there but nothing more. So Sirius crumbled. When Regulus offered his hand for him to take, Sirius took it and allowed himself to be led into the house.
This damn house, with its green wall of corpses and its glaring portraits. How could he have possibly lived here for so long?
The radio was on. A man was speaking of Armageddon, of the end of the World. God was here to end their lives. A religious broadcast. It's expected, really, and Sirius didn't know why he was surprised. Walburga and Orion were the most devout people Sirius had ever known, and while they had attempted to toss their heavy-weighted religion onto their son's shoulders, it stuck for neither of them. Sirius had no God-fearing blood in him, while Regulus had a few veins.
It was a joke. This broadcast had to be some sort of joke. April Fool's Day was only a week away; perhaps the broadcasts had mixed up the dates. There had to be a reason, some sort of logical and sound justification for this apocalypse talk. It wasn't real. The apocalypse was fiction. Zombies weren't a thing. Artificial Intelligence wasn't going to rise against humanity. God wasn't real, so Armageddon wasn't real. Sound, logical reasons. Everyone had a Satanic Panic, a fear of dying, a fear of the apocalypse. Something scared everyone, so they morphed it into something that could control humanity and then kill them off like rats.
Neither one of Sirius' parents had noticed him come in. For that, Sirius was grateful. He hadn't seen them for two years. He was prolonging their reactions to his betrayal against their "family", although Sirius wouldn't call whatever they were a family. Regulus was a partial brother to him in many ways after their last meeting. How long had it been, eleven months? A year? Sirius had kept track at first but had forgotten.
The parents refused to look at either of their children. Sirius was used to it. It was commonplace for him. Yet by the look on Regulus' face, this was something new, something novel. He looked hurt by his parents' sudden neglect of him, as though this hadn't happened their whole lives. Had Regulus forgotten all that these wretched monsters had done to them? The days when Orion locked up both sons in a closet for two days without food and a cup of water to share. Discipline. That's what they called it. Regulus called it discipline, too, now. They had tainted him. They had coloured him the same shade of green. It was hard to tell the difference between the youngest son and his parents. They all looked the same. And as soon as he realised that, Sirius felt like he was breaking apart. All that he had taken, all that he had endured to ensure his parents never would get to Regulus, all for nothing. Everything was for nothing. Two years of being away, two years of leaving Regulus to fend for himself. How easy had it been to change him? How long had it taken? A day, a week, a month? Had Sirius's adamant berating of their parents done nothing in the end? Was Sirius nothing in the end?
Sirius held his brother's hand and clasped it hard. If this was real, if the apocalypse had come, Sirius did not trust Walburga and Orion to take care of their heir. All they ever wanted, in reality, was to maintain control of their beloved House of Black. And to them, the House of Black was just that. A House with only them. They had children in case they needed heirs, and when both children proved to be failures, what would they need these kids for? Especially if the House of Black was going to crumble. These kids had changed from a necessity to a liability. Sirius knew his parents would be quick to rid themselves of Regulus. He had always expected something akin to it.
Soon enough, they were outside on the street. Their hands were still intertwined. It was crowded. It was never this crowded outside. Regulus inched closer to his brother and whispered, almost too quiet for Sirius to hear, 'Are we brothers again?'
Sirius looked at him. In the two years he hadn't seen his baby brother, he'd grown taller. They were the same height now. Time had taken its toll on both of them. The future would tear them apart.
Sirius mustered a smile. 'We've always been brothers. That'll never end. I'll always be here for you.'
Four years later, Regulus was alone in a world of the dead.