chapter xxi
When Regulus fell, he fell hard. He fell fast.
He fell down an entire flight of stairs.
By some magic, even though he was everything-defficient with weak incest bones, Regulus was more or less unharmed. More, as in his bones were unbroken and he didn't seem to have my brain damage. Less, is in he was bruised all over with a huge gash in his shoulder and Barty picked that exact instance to be responsible. "Reg, you cunt, get in my car. You need stitches."
Regulus didn't like the suggestion. He wouldn't - couldn't - go to the hospital again. “Remus is pre-med. So is uh- Lily. And I think Dorcas."
Though the option seemed perfectly viable to Regulis, Barty didn't see it that way. “Oh, so you want to get infected? Let me take you to the hospital or I swear to god I will call your M- your brother, And he'll drag you there himself, you know he will."
"Barty, I can't," Regulus said, putting as much authority into his voice as he could. “I'm an adult, you can't force me to go to the doctor's. And neither can Sirius.”
Regulus knew he was being whiney, he knew he sounded petulant and annoying. But he couldn't go to the hospital. He just couldn't. Because they'd see. They'd see.
They’d see.
Then. Would. See.
"They'd see what?" Barty’s voice broke through Regulus's reverie. “Goddamnit Reg you're scaring the shit out of me."
And Regulus didn't want to admit it.
He didn't want to say it out loud, didn't want it to be seen.
But it was Barty or the doctors, and if it was the doctors, his parents would know. So Barty wasn't that bad.
"They’d do a checkup on the rest of me. They’d make me undress and get in a hospital gown. They'd see my arms, Barty. And mother would make go back. I can't go back, Barty. I can't. I can't go back."
Regulus kept mumbling that he couldn't go back. It was the only thing he could think of. They’d see. They’d see him.
They'd see a ‘him.’
And his pants couldn't know he was a him.
Orion would be tame, he'd only disown him and cut him off financially.
But Walburga.
She -when Sirius was just a kid.
He was just a kid.
But she did it.
So why not? Why would she not to her adult son?
If Walburga saw Regulus, realized he was Regulus, she would kill him.
Just like Sirius.
Sirius.
Sirius would have known what to do.
He knew how to do messy stitches by the time he was ten. He had a spool of thread and a strong needle he stole from a seamstress who was altering a suit of his.
He had used it before.
He always knew what to do.
Regulus always went to Sirius.
He had to go to Sirius.
Mother would see if he cried, if he got blood on anything.
He had to go to Sirius.
But his vision was blurring.
He couldn't feel the floor beneath his feet. He couldn't feel his feet beneath his legs, he couldn't feel his legs.
He couldn't breathe.
He had to get to Sirius.
Sirius would know what to do, he would know how to fix him. Sirius.
Everything was dark, but that was okay. Stars only
Come out in the dark. Sirius was made of stars, he would come. Just like he always did; Regulus couldn't remember a single day without his brother.
Even when he could no longer feel anything, Regulus knew Sirius would come. Just like always, since the day Regulus had been born.
Sirius was coming.
He would come.
Come
—
Regulus didn't know how much time had passed.
He didn't know where he was, he didn't know what was happening. But he knew he wasn't safe.
He remembered falling, busting up his shoulder. He could tell it really happened because it stung. It hurt. It burned.
But that was good, it kept him grounded and focused. He knew he wasn't safe. He had to focus on getting away. He had to learn where he was.
So he forced his eyes open.
And it was too bright, there was only one place he could be.
He was in the hospital.
His mother was coming.
She would kill him. She would.
But she couldn't if he was in an asylum. She couldn't if he was in jail.
So when the shadow blocked some of the brightness, he squinted enough to make sure it was person.
And then he screamed.
He screamed so much nobody could believe he was sane.
He screamed loud enough that he couldn't hear whatever the shadow-figure was yelling.
He screamed so much that Walburga stayed away.
He fell asleep screaming, too tired to carry on.
And then his eyes opened again. It was darker, he wasn't in the hospital. He felt something soft beneath his head. Something harder was at his feet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, even though it seemed to be moving. It was warm. He reached out for it, but it drew sway.
And then it spoke.
"Are you gonna attack me again?”
No. Regulus wouldn't attack it, he would never attack it, the would never attack him.
“Siri, I- no. No."
The figure moved closer again, and Regulus saw his face. His brother, there again to fix everything.
Reggie, you-" Sirius paused before speaking again, his voice oddly quiet. "Can I hug you? Please?"
And Regulus nodded.
And Sirius came closer. He had his arms out as if to hold.
As if to constrain.
And Regulus realized that he had been wrong. Sirius wasn’t there to fix everything. He was there to trap him.
Regulus wanted to smack his brother’s arms away, to fight tooth and nail for his freedom if he had to. But he couldn’t. Maybe it was because he knew being trapped would lead to his mother, to a final quiet. Maybe because he didn’t mind being trapped if at least it proved he was wanted somehow. Maybe he just couldn’t hurt his brother, his savior and demon all in one.
It didn’t matter why. He didn’t fight.
The outstretched arms held him, and they were oh-so-gentle. As if maybe they really cared. They were a cage of feathers and silk. And Regulus couldn’t fight back.
And then they were gone again. They let Regulus go, but Sirius was still standing right there, a small, forced smile on his face. When he spoke again, his voice was slightly stronger, though still unbearably gentle, as if he was afraid of breaking Regulus.
“I’m so glad you’re okay. I - uh - stitched up your shoulder. And bandaged your arm.”
“Just like old times,” Regulus noted, not bothering to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
“Just like old times,” Sirius agreed with a dark look. “Speaking of: you’re not going back there. I won’t let you.” He tensed as if he was expecting pushback, some fight on the topic. Regulus had none to offer.
“I know. Once my dorm is up, I’ll get an apartment. I have enough if I have roommates. I’ll get a job.”
Despite growing up in a disgusting amount of wealth, Regulus knew want: want for more food, want for warmth, want for more covering clothes. In his parents’ attempts to control him, they had inadvertently given him the abilities he needed to get away from them.
But Sirius was making a face as if the very idea was ridiculous, maybe even hurtful. “No, Reg. You don’t have to- you can move in with me.”
And there was nothing Regulus could do but agree.