Wake up
Barty fell. He fell, and the fall was fast and intense.
His lungs gave up. His heart stopped. His brain died.
He thought they did until he came back to his senses abruptly.
And Barty was still falling.
Days passed by. Time was always racing.
People passed by. Colors were racing.
He wasn't sure when he had stepped wrong. At which point his feet left the tightrope and pushed him into free fall. His mind was working without a break, always spinning, always trying to solve a riddle he didn't understand.
Not even sleep gave him rest. His dreams were haunted. Haunted by his thoughts and Evan. Evan was there, dancing with Mary, looking at him. Evan was kissing her, looking at him. Evan. Evan. Evan.
He felt manic when he woke up, which stood in contrast with his deep-going confusion. Always on the edge, he made everyone go up the walls at some point. He always did.
“Sit down, dear,” his mother pleaded with a calm voice, trying to avoid her husband's attention. Barty stopped pacing to sit down, but still he felt this energy running through him. He felt high, even though he was not on any drug. He just came back from school. He should be tired, exhausted, excited to go to bed and get some sleep, but his nights were haunted.
His father entered the room only a few minutes later, missing the moment before sitting down next to his wife, starting to eat. Both of them, wife and son, followed his lead. They always ate in silence. Conversations were not pleasing for any of them. His father always wanted the upper hand in conversations. Barty didn't have it. His mother gave up a long time ago.
His father was a monster, and he hated him.
“What is up with him today?” His father turned his head to his mother, only to send dark glares to Barty, who did his best to sit still, to shove this unsettling energy back, and to hide it away. It was always pretending as if the boy wasn't there, talking over his head. Not once did the older man direct his words to him, only to his mother.
She hesitated, obviously unsure what her answer should be. Barty knew she didn't know. How should she? He didn't talk to her about it.
“Stress. Let him be.”
“I would, when he would calm down. I don't get why you never taught him good table manners. Look at him. I don't want to know how he is acting in public places,” his father snarled, pointing with his fork at Barty. His mother opened her mouth to answer those accusations. But Barty was faster.
“Will you ever shut up? All you ever care about is yourself, never about us. Never about my mother. Never about me. You only care about your own benefits, your freaking work,” he snapped at the man. His mother sucked her breath in, shaking her head in hope to stop him from talking. He ignored her as he let his silverware drop. With a loud clatter it met the table, cracking through the silence of tension.
His father's face went from normal to deep red in seconds. Barty should shut up, except that he most of the time never knew when he had to.
“It must be frustrating to always crawl up other people's arses.”
He knew what was coming when he saw the way his father bared his teeth and in the way his breathing got louder. However, he did not expect the fork flying in his direction, barely seconds after the last word left his mouth. His mother screamed in shock, tears leaving her face.
The fork didn't hit him, luckily, but he stood up, knowing his father would come after him, especially because his hit failed. Good for him, he was faster, and his room had a lock.
His father's fit lasted until midnight. He screamed at his mother. She did so too, but went quickly silent.
Barty would lie if he said he wasn't scared. He definitely was. His father threw fucking silverware at him. It could have ended badly. To not fear his father?
Barty wasn't that dumb. He always had been scared. Scared of the monster. Monster... Monstermonstermonster...
At some point, he decided to get high. With his father's tantrum in the background and the chaos in Barty's head, there was no way to call it a day early. It was not his best idea considering he had barely eaten something, but he only lived once. He pushed his windows open, pulling the curtains almost shut, and sat down next to his music player, turning on the music on low volume. He lit his joint and sighed as the lightness set in.
°° °°
“You look like shit,” Dorcas told him, instead of a greeting, as soon as she laid her eyes on him. He showed her his middle finger, putting his tongue out too.
“You're jealous,” he talked back, walking with her. In close distance, they saw Regulus, Evan, and Pandora standing together. All of them indulged in a conversation. Pandora seemed to explain something to the boys.
“It was amazing. I can't believe so many people do not care about our nature and environment. After all, we're part of the biodiversity- Hi!” Pandora stopped as Dorcas and Barty came into her sight. She pulled both of them in a hug. Barty smiled, glancing to Evan, who leaned against the wall in a lazy manner, arching one eyebrow as he caught him staring. With a wink, Barty stepped back, out of the hug.
“Someone died yesterday?” Regulus asked him, looking bored and not really interested in the answer, which was a facade. Regulus cared more than he let on. With that knowledge, Barty flashed him a grin.
“No, just needed a joint,” he replied. Evan sent him a scandalized glance.
“You got high? Without me, shame on you, Crouch,” he mocked him in a playful tone. This was all Barty needed to know. His energy ran high again, and he felt it more when he let himself bump into Evan. The other boy slung an arm around him.
“Next time we share, I promise, Rosier.”
Regulus groaned. “I'm too tired for this shit.”
He turned to leave with all of them trailing close behind him. Barty let his comment pass, being too locked in his own emotions. Having Evan close calmed him down in some way, but he still felt fidgety.
“Everything's alright? You seem off,” Evan checked on him, making sure to not be overheard.
“Yeah, I had a fight with my father yesterday. He's an asshole. Threw a fork at me,” he replied. It was the easier answer for now. Everything else was toocomplicated to even put into words. Evan was eyeing him from aside, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Are you hurt?” His eyes checked him, searching for visible wounds. Barty played it down with a smile. “I'm fine. I got lucky enough to not get hit.”
Evan tried to ask him a few times about it after that day, but Barty stayed with his words, always telling him he was fine.
°° °°
Days passed by. Barty tried to avoid his father as much as he could, not wanting to fuel his anger further. The outburst had shocked him to the core. Maybe he never believed his father could have been so violent. That was a whole next level.
So he clung to his friends, always meeting them outside as long as possible, even though the days grew colder and shorter.
Regulus wore more than two layers of clothes, still complaining about the cold. Dorcas was the same. She also went often to Marlene; now they had grown closer. Pandora didn't really care about the weather, taking everything as it came. Evan was also not a big complainer, probably for the same reason as Barty. To be out, far away from his parents, he felt most safe.
Cold air made Evan pretty in another whole way. His cheeks and nose rosy, his hair tended to curl a lot more because of the damp cold, and he always hid his face behind the green scarf Pandora knitted him two years ago. It destroyed something in him and awoke giddy flutters in his stomach. His mind was amazed by this view, adding it to his favorite memories. Evan with leaves in his curly hair. Evan kissing someone but looking at him (at the same time, he despised this memory), Evan being high. Evan. Evan. Evan.
It made his downfall faster. His heart was crashing when he watched Evan chasing after Regulus, who screamed curses at the other boy. Next to him, Pandora giggled.
“Maybe you should save him.” Pandora sent him a meaningful look, and it took time to reach his brain.
“Yeah.”
His legs started to run by themselves. He tried to catch up with the others. The moment his arms caught the blonde boy, he knew he took him by surprise. Evan's breath hitched while he turned his head. Both of their faces were suddenly so close, they felt each other's breath on their skin. Barty was sure something inside him exploded. Without even wanting to, he pushed closer. Evan took multiple steps back, not successful in bringing enough space between them. Blue eyes wandered over his face, asking questions Barty didn't know the answers to. His own eyes lingered on Evan's lips. Mary had the chance to feel them. He felt more than just bitter about it.
He snapped out of it when he realized what he was doing, not that he exactly knew what his doing was, but with a grin, he let himself bump into his friend and slung his arm around him. Evan tensed under his touch.
“Want to get high?” he asked in their round. Pandora pulled a face, not convinced. Even Regulus scoffed. “I'm freezing my ass off. I will not get high if I can't enjoy myself.”
Evan laughed, his body vibrating. Barty's feet bounced in reaction to it. He ignored the worried glances of the boy next to him on purpose.
“Regulus is probably right. It's too freezing outside,” Evan said. Both of the boys never missed out on the chance to smoke weed, so Barty felt miserable about it. To blow off some steam would have been something he was in need of right now. His whole body, mind, and heart were on the run, on the fall. To drug himself into calmness was the best way to escape now. An unhealthy way to cope, Dorcas' voice said in his head, but he didn't know how to escape the state he was in. It was overwhelming, everything about it. The bane of his existence was the way he was too euphoric, happy when all he wanted was to cry, to curl up until he was only a ball, and to throw up. Everything was better than to think about what it meant. What it meant that Evan kissed someone else. Now all he wanted was to rely on his inability to understand his feelings. But he wanted the boys around him, growing tired of rushing high alone.
“You all will end up addicted before you reach your twenties.” Pandora sighed, bringing him back to his friends, back to the woods.
“Better than to die out of boredom,” Barty muttered, in need of the kick. His arm fell off of Evan's shoulder. He rolled his eyes. “You all are so boring.”
Regulus was not bothered by his dramatics. Pandora looked as if a force had hit her and Evan... Evan eyed him, his brows furrowed.
“I'm going home,” Pandora announced and walked away without saying her goodbyes. Regulus followed her, not without sending an accusing glare in his best friend's direction. “Me too.”
Both of them watched them walk away. Barty still stared at the point even after both of them were long gone. Birds chirped somewhere up in the trees. The wind was picking up, some dark clouds ominously crouching in the sky. Leaves rustled, but there was no other noise besides these. Evan stayed. Barty waited for the moment he would walk away too. But it didn't happen. Some part of him wanted to snap at him, to scream at him, and another part wanted to crash into him, to crawl into him, to hide away.
But there was no way he would fuel such ideas; instead, he turned to Evan with a bashful smile. Evan's face was rosy. His blue eyes laid on him.
“Aren't you cold?” he asked, ignoring how his voice faltered. A picture of Evan and Mary showed up in his mind. Suddenly feeling angry at Evan was so much easier than before.
“I never said I was,” Evan countered.
“But you don't want to smoke weed,” Barty said. His tone was biting. It did not make Evan back up, not now. Why did he not slip away as he used to do? It was foul in many ways; Barty used this to hide the real reason behind his anger. Those blue eyes still lingered on him, steady and loyal.
“You're angry.” Evan stated calmly. Why? The question hung between them, not spoken out loud.
Both of them were messes. One of them drowned in his feelings, never talking about them. The other, himself, never understood what he was feeling. The thing they had in common was that they felt too much. That was also the thing they always clashed on. Barty wanted to understand Evan, but Evan turned evasive when it came to talking about what he felt. Evan reaching out to help sent Barty into spirals, not even sure where he should start.
They walked in circles, watching each other. It was a dance of taking steps forwards and backwards. Always the pull between right and wrong direction. Neither side won.
Yes, Barty was angry. So much he understood. He was angry about his mind playing games with him. He was angry about Evan's eyes on him, mustering and waiting. Always waiting.
He was angry that Evan haunted his dreams. His face burned into his memory, Barty could trace it without seeing it. He could paint it. Evan was living in his mind. His eyes so blue, but they resembled a hurricane crashing in and leaving him empty when he wasn't with him. His skin so soft, even when he didn't shave his stubble sometimes. His hair so light, it almost shone, and so fluffy. His lips so rosy and kissable.
He was angry. Evan kissed someone else.
“I'm not,” he lied into Evan's face. His lie was directly discovered. The other teenager stepped closer, still mustering him. His eyes crawled into his soul's core, digging for answers. The feeling that followed was unsettling.
“You are. If this is about your father, you can always tell me. I know how it is.”
“Why do you even care?”
That was it. He knew it barely before the last word left his lips. An ugly feeling of satisfaction crawled up his veins as he saw how it hit Evan. The realization that came when the other understood what those words meant.
Why do you even care?
His mouth felt bitter. Evan's face turned to stone, shutting his feelings off. He just locked them away, still not slipping away, though.
“Because you're my friend, if you have forgotten. I also have shit parents. So yeah, I do care about you. I care about you since our first meeting.” Evan glowered at him.
“How would I know? All you do is slip away. It's what you always do,” Barty yelled, letting his frustration out. It sipped out of him like a monster's breathing air for the first time.
“So this is about me now?” Evan's tone changed, turning cold when he snarled.
“You say you care, but you never talk. You're one to talk, saying I can tell you everything. But what do I know about you? You never tell me! Until something happens. Untilyouare snogging someone in front of me.” The words rushed out of his mouth without thinking. It felt bad. It felt good.
“Really, you're still being a dickhead about the kiss? I did tell you it didn't mean anything. What do you expect from me? It doesn't matter anyway!”
“It does! If you like someone, it does matter.” His heart clenched, bleeding only by the thought of Evan with someone else. However, Evan didn't see his point. It stood written in his eyes.
“Talk to me after you worked through your shit. I'm not going to apologize for kissing someone. It's not of your concern.”
He turned, following the path Pandora and Regulus took only minutes ago. Barty stayed behind alone, feeling worked up, because Evan was right, wasn't he? It was Evan's decision who he kissed and who not. If he fancied Mary, how did it matter for him? But it bothered him. It bothered him so much. It was Mary and not him.
His head seemed to stop there, realizing what he was thinking about. It opened the door to a new world he was not ready for.
He wanted to kiss his friend. He wanted to kiss Evan Rosier.
°° °°
Pandora used the break to be alone, away from her friend group. All of them had their problems, and it bothered her to a point it drove her into insanity.
Regulus felt bitter about his whole life; it was nothing new. Still annoying currently. She felt bad about it, since he walked her home after Barty's words hurt her, and this tosser didn't even realize it!
Her fingers flipped the book page. The sound of it was loud, disturbing an older student on the table next to her, groaning. She ignored them, having other problems.
Dorcas wasn't there. The only other sane person was missing to make the drama between her cousin and Barty bearable. Evan was Evan, never talking about his feelings, waiting until a wonder happened or did not happen. In both cases, it was most unlikely he would act on it. And Barty, with his jealous tantrum, added another level to Evan's hopeless pining over this boy. How can two people be so dumb at the same time?
It was a pain in ass to watch from the sidelines and to not give hints.
As much as she wished she could help them, they had to work this out on their own. But as it seemed, this was not bound to happen anytime soon, maybe never at all. Both Evan and Barty had some fight; the others had missed. Now they acted strange again. Every other normal person would hide away as she did now.
Another side turned without being read. And the moment she tried to really mind the content of the text, a person interrupted her. Her eyes looked up, meeting eyes like melted chocolate. Mary McDonald let herself fall on a chair. Her bag dropped loudly on the floor. Another groan of the student followed. Pandora still ignored them, Mary as well as it seemed.
“Hi,” Mary greeted her, sending her a smile. Her hair was parted in two braids. It looked good on her, but everything looked good on her. There was no one who disagreed on that (no one Pandora knew of).
“Hello, is everything alright?” As soon as her words left her mouth, noise came from the table next to them. The student was now pushing all their books in their bag, sending bitter glares to the girls before leaving in a rush. Mary rolled her eyes before letting out a giggle.
“Yeah, I'm doing great. I hope you do too. To be honest, I wanted to check on Evan. He's your cousin?” She started, leaning back. Pandora closed her book. It seemed her group still followed her everywhere around.
“He is. What's about him?”
“You might know... We kissed at the party, and I felt like I scared him away.”
Pandora knew. It was the turning point of all the drama that happened between the boys. Somehow she felt glad about it. In some way, Mary forced Barty to overthink a lot. Still a pain to walk with him through it, though.
“I'm just concerned I forced myself on him-”
“No, you didn't. Don't worry. He's...” she pondered over her words before she shrugged. “He's Evan.”
Mary let out a relieved breath. Her face grew softer with the concerns out of the way.
“Do you like him?” Pandora asked, which made Mary's eyes go wide. A soft laugh left her lips, shaking her head.
“Don't get me wrong... He's good-looking, but I just wanted to try and I-” she stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes went astray, checking their surroundings. They were alone since the other student left, annoyed about Pandora's presence from the point she dared to sit down. So whatever Mary seemed to worry about, there was no one near to overhear their conversation or someone to find out.
“I don't feel attracted to other people. Not to boys, not to girls. I think they're pretty, but that's it. I don't want intimacy or a relationship. It sucks. I'm weird,” Mary admitted in a low voice, sending again a look around. Still, there was no other person around. Pandora watched her and waited until she got her full attention. Her hands reached over the table, an invitation to hold on to her. Mary gave in, laying her fingers in her palm. Pandora locked her hand around them.
“You're not weird. It's absolutely fine. Sex and relationships are not everything. If this is not your thing, not in the past, not now, not in the future, it's okay,” she assured her, gifting her a warm smile.
Mary looked in pain. “I want to be loved. Everyone will love someone, and I will stay behind, unloved, not able to love, and lonely.”
Pandora pressed Mary's hand. “Love grows not always from romantic and sexual nature. You don't have to force yourself into things you don't desire and want. You are loved already. You have friends that love you. They love you,” she explained, looking into the other girl's eyes. “You will never be alone.”
Hope was growing in her eyes. She needed to believe Pandora's words. She wanted to believe her words. And Pandora never turned her eyes away, because her words were true. She was right in what she said about love. Love took more than one form. The love of family, the love of friends, the love in little things... There was so much more love than just in the way of having a partner.
It was sad Mary felt forced into something she never wanted. It was insane people like her searched the error in their own ways when they were normal. There was nothing wrong about it. There was nothing wrong about not wanting sex. Nothing wrong about not wanting a relationship.
“Thank you. I know we barely talk to each other. So it means a lot to me.” Mary smiled at her, still clinging to her hand as if her life depended on it. Pandora let her and gave her all the time she needed because she was normal. Her feelings were valid and definitely far away from being strange. Mary was beautiful the way she was, and that was all she had to believe in. She had to believe in herself, to love herself.
°° °°
His parents' house grew darker with the days stepping closer to winter. It added to the whole vibe the house had with all its dark wallpapers. Earlier in his life, it was sometimes filled with the laughter of children, with fast footsteps of two boys chasing each other. Earlier in his years, everything seemed a little lighter, not because the house was, but because everything was better. But this was an illusion. One of the tricks his mind played on him to make him forget about the bad things that happened after they interrupted the silence. He forgot how Sirius was punished as both of them dared to laugh. They also got punished after running around. Their mother hated noise.
Sirius was the loudest. He laughed louder than Regulus. He talked louder. He spoke up against her, calling her out on the violence she used on them, especially him.
Earlier in his years, Regulus didn't know Sirius was not only loud because he just was, but also because he protected Regulus. Regulus knew all this now but turned his eyes away from it. It made it more bearable. To hate his brother wasn't an easy task. How could he hate him if all he ever wanted was warmth and the sun? How could he hate him if all he ever wanted and needed was the love of a real family?
Both of them needed a mother and a father. They had not such luck. But Sirius found a new family the day he met James Potter. Suddenly it was not them who had no parents. It was Regulus who had no parents and Sirius who had. Effie and Monty Potter took him in the day he first stepped into their house. Sirius told him about them. And all Regulus wanted was to feel happy for him, to be glad, but he envied him and felt the sweet bitterness of being left behind. He really tried to swallow it down, but as he met Sirius' new friends, he realized he had to let him go. Sooner or later it would happen. Sirius would leave. But distancing made it not easier. He still clung to his brother, even though they almost never talked. He still was scared of the day that would come.
The moment Sirius entered his room (he never did), he knew the day was close. There was no turning back anymore. Both of them sat on his bed. Regulus leaned on the wall, staring out of the window. Sirius sat on the bed's end, watching him. The silence hung over them, daring them to speak. Regulus couldn't. And Sirius stalled.
Another thing about the house was the silence. It made the whole atmosphere creepy and added to the dark vibe and the lingering shadows. The wind sent whispers through the halls on especially stormy days, but on most days it was so quiet, he could listen to the blood flowing in his veins. It sent cold shivers down his spine.
“You can come with me.” The first to end the silence was Sirius. Regulus was scared their parents would hear. No surprise if they would know every word exchanged. Somehow they always knew everything.
“I will have a flat. We can escape, finally leave them behind. I want you to come with me,” he pressed further. Regulus' throat tightened. He pulled his legs close to his chest, laying his chin on his knees. His arms hugged his legs. His eyes were still trained on the window. The sky was gray. Maybe snow was coming.
“What about Lupin?” he rasped, his voice almost dying out.
“He's fine. It will be brilliant. We can work everything out, and if you're ready and sick of us, you can search your own place, but for the start...”
He realized his brother had it all planned out. He hoped Regulus would say yes. Regulus even went so far as to think that Sirius believed he would surely come with him, leaving their parents' house behind. His stomach felt sick. He eyed Sirius. His hair was matte, his blue eyes dull, eye bags visible, and his skin pale as ever. Sirius looked drained and sick. He himself did too. The dark locks of his older brother were their own rebellious act against their parents. Regulus still remembered the day his mother gave up on cutting it. It ended in screams and blood. Her voice was cold. Then let them see what little flit you are.
Sirius won, but for what price? He stayed in bed for days until he was able to get up and walk again. Since that day, he was proudly showing his hair off, not with words but with the way he took care of it.
Regulus' hair was kept short by his mother. She always cut it when it was too long in her eyes.
“If you don't want to stay with us. The Potter's would love to take you in,” Sirius tried again. This time he got a reaction from his younger brother. Regulus sat up, lifting his head. His eyes spied fire.
“I will never go to the Potter's,” he spat, showing his disgust clearly. He would rather die than show up on their door. There was no day he would be ready to face their pity and unconditional love. There was no day he would live in the same house as James fucking Potter, not even over his dead body.
“Come with me,” Sirius pleaded, but it didn't reach him.
“No.”
“Please. You don't have to stay here.”
“No.”
Maybe it made him stubborn. Maybe he was mean. Maybe it made him a bad person as he watched his brother's facade crumble.
“I will stay here. This is my home. My parents are here. They love me.”
Sirius laughed under tears, being stunned into bewilderment. “You don't believe that, do you?”
“I do.” I do not.
“When do you wake up? When is the day you start to live? To start to think on your own? Will you really let them shape you and your life until there's nothing left of you?” Sirius stood up while he hissed at him, turning to leave Regulus' room. As he reached the door, his hand already on the handle, he turned for a last time.
“Think about it. If you change your mind, you can still leave with me.”
The door opened and fell silent into the lock again. Regulus stared out of the window again.