Chapter 3
Regulus has never been to a funeral. None of his close family have passed, and he’s never been close enough to someone to be invited to one for any other reason. He’s spent a lot of time in the town's cemetery though, walking through the rows of people and memorizing the names as they passed his gaze. He picked flowers from a field just up the road and brought them down to lay them on the overgrown graves. He had to fill a lot of time when he said he was out with the twins, plus he liked to think the dead appreciated it. Even if they weren’t there to see it, Regulus thought maybe they’d know somehow. From the looks of it, no one had visited them in decades. He thought maybe he couldn’t give them much, but he could sit by them for an afternoon. He never talked to them, he knew they couldn’t hear him. Plus he didn’t want to be heard in case someone’s family was nearby. Of course, no one ever showed up. It’s vacant except for times like this.
The morning started out in the church, it’s small, and an even smaller crowd filled the place. Alphard was loved by many people, but Sirius wanted it to be a small thing. They only filled up three rows of pews and Regulus kept to himself in the back. Keeping his head bowed for most of the service. Sirius was the only one with a speech, which he had to stop halfway through to compose himself. Regulus wants to say he almost went up there to help him, but he stayed in his seat. Perfectly still, as if a vine had overgrown over his feet. Remus went up instead. Sirius finished the speech and they all took the walk over to the gravesite together. It wasn’t very far, only on the outskirts of town.
Once again Regulus was left to walk near the back of the group, trailing behind them a bird on a string. It’s not that he doesn't want to walk up near the front with Sirius, he should, he’s one of the last remaining family members. It should be him, but there’s this barrier between him and the rest of the world. He’s standing beside it, slamming his hands on the field, trying to find his way through. It’s always been there, the barrier, he’s noticed it ever since he was young. There was always something different about him, no one seemed to know what to do with him. No one invited him to the big group games on the playground, and he was left out of every birthday party. He saw the invitations go around and he couldn’t even be surprised when he didn’t receive one. The point is, that he’s always noticed this barrier, but it seems to be growing larger with each counting day. He’s not sure if the rest of the world is slipping from his fingers or if it’s him drifting carelessly through the rest of space and time.
He used to always have Sirius, that was his one constant in all of this. The barrier between the rest of the world and Regulus never included him. Maybe Regulus took it for granted. He thought he could’ve had him forever. That’s his big brother. Why did he have to take that too?
Regulus can think about how unfair all of this is forever. He can sit in his room and sulk, refusing to do anything else. He can sit in the graveyard at a different grave each day and let it simmer. He can bury himself in layers of snow and decay obsessing over how alone he is. It wouldn’t change it. It wouldn’t change any of this. It’s stupid, all of this is. He stops in his tracks as everyone else does, letting the backdrop fully settle around him. All he’s doing is feeling sorry for himself and he forgot the real reason why he’s here, his Uncle is dead.
He swallows thickly, fiddling with his fingers by his side. He blinks, thinking tears will come but he finds nothing instead. He thinks something might be wrong with him. He doesn’t think he’s felt anything in a very long time. He looks through the group trying to find the eyes of his brother, and finds tears in his. Sirius tries to brush them off as quickly as they come, fighting the look of calm. Regulus finds himself wanting to apologize, but he’s sure the words won’t come out. He’s not even sure what he’d say. They haven’t spoken all day. Regulus came to the church early, but Sirius saw right through him. Regulus wonders if he feels ashamed to have him as a brother. Is that why? Did Regulus ruin it all by coming back here?
The picture of Sirius’ life without Regulus is a peaceful one. He wouldn’t have to take care of him anymore, he wouldn’t feel the pain of abandonment. Will Sirius breathe out a sigh of relief when Regulus leaves again? Will he say “Good Riddance” and move on with the rest of his day? Will he even care at all? They’re thoughts Regulus would rather not be having, but he can’t help it as he looks over at him. When he was younger he used to think of all the titles Sirius was for him. Brother, Best Friend, Mother, Father, Caregiver, and Light. He never expected Stranger to make the list, but looking over now as Remus and Peter comfort Sirius in a way Regulus would never be able to, he realizes he doesn’t know his brother at all. Maybe he never did.
“You’re thinking too much,” a distant voice sings. It’s beautiful. Regulus wants to hold onto it forever, dreaming that maybe one day it’ll do the same.
“What?” he whispers, careful of everyone else around him. The ocean is at his door, it seeps through the floorboards and right to his feet. It’s a gentle wave as it carries itself up to his chest. He’s drowning, but it’s dry everywhere else. The water is only in his lungs.
“Don’t worry,” James murmurs, stepping up right beside him, “They can’t hear you.”
Regulus blinks, tilting his head, “Who?” He looks around to find nothing, but a field covered in flowers. The sun’s out, it flickers across his skin with orange light.
“No one, it’s nothing,” James replies easily, he brings his arm around Regulus’ waist, pulling him in, placing his face in the crook of his neck. “You seem stressed.”
“I’m not stressed,” Regulus sighs.
James lifts his head up enough to look him in the eyes, “Baby…”
“I’m not!” Regulus exclaims.
James smiles softly at him, reaching up to brush against the skin between his eyebrows, “You know you always crinkle your forehead when you’re stressed,” he says absent-mindedly.
Regulus rolls his eyes, but makes no move to push him away. “I’m fine.”
James shakes his head, “Talk to me.”
It’s unfair, truly, having to go up against James with this. Regulus isn’t even sure how he does it. He builds his walls up so high, that no one has ever been strong enough to get through them before James. He’s an anomaly, he makes Regulus want to say to hell with all of it and burn it all down himself.
“I just—” Regulus sighs, throwing his head back. He’s met with the open sky, no clouds to count. It’s how Sirius used to get him to talk when they were younger. Whenever Regulus was stressed out he always locked himself away, it started even back then. Sirius used to take him outside and have him look up at the sky for a bit. It started with the stars. Regulus would name each other constellations until he settled himself down, he turned lax and would explain anything that was troubling him. When it was day Sirius took to having Regulus name the shapes of the clouds instead. It started with rabbits and dogs, but it morphed into something bigger; fear and protection. Sirius always got him talking, and now Regulus is all sewn up. He has no more words and yet his heart is heavy with them all the same.
James tilts his head back over to him, his eyes are bright; and soft like the clouds, “What is it?”
Regulus huffs, “Do you think Sirius hated me for moving away?” He asks in a single breath, fear eating away at him, a sickness in his lungs.
James eyebrows furrow, “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know!” Regulus’ voice strains, “I should’ve looked for him. I should’ve been with him. I shouldn’t have left in the first place.”
“It’s okay,” James calls out softly, rubbing his thumb on his jaw to settle him. Regulus doesn’t have the space within himself to believe him.
“He always said he’d find me,” Regulus whispers, “I made myself hard to find.”
“Reg,” James murmurs, waiting for Regulus’ eyes to be on him before he says, “Your brother didn’t hate you.”
“You don’t know that,” Regulus tells him. “You never met him. You don’t know if he…”
“No, I don’t,” James cuts him off before his words can trail off; a loose string on a cardigan. “But you’ve told me about the letter. He never hated you.”
“I miss him,” Regulus whines.
“I know you do.”
Regulus wants to kick his feet like a petulant child. He wants to scream and throw himself on the floor in the grocery store aisles. He wants to do more than this. The flowers are wilting around him, and the cemetery comes back into focus. The light flickers like the ocean tide, or a fuzzy film camera. He doesn’t know much but he can say will full certainly he’ll never go home again. “I don’t,” he shakes his head, “He was supposed to find me.”
James takes him in his arms, hiding him away before his tears come. When they come down his cheeks they’re in big clumps, sticking his eyelashes together. He hiccups into James’ chest, trying to drown out the rest of it. He feels the letter burning a hole in his pocket, it’s a flame against the back of his hand. It’s a single ember scarring his skin. James cradles Regulus’ head drawing him in, being the breath in his lungs, keeping him alive.
“I know you miss your brother,” James murmurs, he kisses the top of his head between his words. Regulus tries to force it to fall around him, but the comfort doesn’t come. He claws against the feeling, biting into its skin trying to taste it. It never comes. It’ll never come again, but he’s waiting for it. Always waiting. He’s waiting for Sirius to come running back home to him. He’s waiting for his big brother to find him. He’s waiting for James to tell him every solution to soothe all his ails, but none of them come. Instead, James says, “I’m so sorry, Reg.”
Regulus shakes his head, pushing himself further into James’ chest. He claws at the back of his shirt as if he’s trying to push himself fully inside his chest. To be left in a crater beside his beating heart. Maybe then he’ll feel a semblance of home. Maybe then he won’t be missing a piece of his soul.
“I’ve got you,” James whispers, but his voice cuts in and out as he repeats, “I’ve got you.”
Regulus feels him floating above it all. The water is rocking, and it knocks him around. When he comes back for air there’s no one around him. At first, he’s not sure where he is. He thinks he’s in his childhood backyard, counting stars and waiting for Sirius to come back out with blankets and snacks he stole from the kitchen. Then he thinks he’s in the diner in the middle of town, to people-watch and wait for another to sit down next to him. Then he’s not very sure. He’s standing in the middle of all of it, looking down at himself.
He only comes back when he hears shouting, and even then it takes him a second to knock all the salt water from his lungs. It burns coming back up.
“Regulus!”
He turns around to find his brother standing there, annoyance covering his face. Regulus wants to apologize, but his tongue can’t shape the words.
“What is wrong with you?” Sirius scoffs, but it’s not as harmless as Regulus wants it to be. It has knives. It cuts into his skin until he’s bleeding out onto the soil.
“What?” Regulus croaks, he hasn’t spoken all day.
Sirius laughs, it has knives too, it hurts. He turns away, looking to the treeline, “Why did you even come?”
Regulus blinks numbly, letting the question roll off him, “He’s family, Sirius.”
Sirius shakes his head, stepping forward, “You don’t even know what family is, Regulus.” It’s cold, callus, it sounds nothing like his brother. Regulus almost thinks he’ll be able to shake the image away. He’ll shake his head and he’ll find Sirius’ face fall peacefully as he lets him in. It doesn’t. It remains the same, no matter how faded.
“What are you talking about?” Regulus whispers.
“Do you know Narcissa and Andy came to see him before he died?” Sirius asks, and the world goes quiet for a second. “They hadn’t even talked to him in years. They hadn’t seen him since they were children but they came to see him before—”
“Sirius—”
“No,” Sirius cuts him off, “Alphard took you into his house. He gave you everything and you didn’t even come to see him when he asked you to. When I asked you to.”
Regulus bites his cheek, he tastes iron, “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care,” Sirius tells him. “You should’ve been here.”
Regulus wants to find some kind of explanation. He wants to have a reason for all of this but there’s nothing. There’s just this feeling in his chest that it’s all gone wrong. He feels like an infant reaching out for anything around him, but it’s all coming out wrong. None of his words can actually describe how he’s feeling. Nothing is a good enough explanation for leaving the way that he did.
“There you’re doing it again,” Sirius’ voice strains, as he chokes out another bout of laughter.
“Doing what?” Regulus whines.
“You're here but you’re never really here, Regulus,” Sirius exclaims. “You’re always just somewhere else.”
“No, I’m—”
“Forget being here for me,” Sirius says. “I understand I don’t matter enough to you to be here, but for Alphard? You couldn’t fucking be here for him?”
“You do ma—”
“Stop,” Sirius cuts him off, stepping away. His eyes are shining, and the stars are alive.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Regulus mumbles. “I promise I don’t mean to. I don’t mean to do any of this. I can’t help it when I—”
“Don’t,” Sirius stops him, “I don’t want to keep hearing your excuses, Regulus.”
“They’re not excuses!”
Sirius gives him a look and he feels so small. Buried within himself. “Leave it,” he says, taking another step back as he starts to turn around.
“Where are you going?” Regulus hears himself ask.
Sirius turns halfway around to say, “We’re having a Wake back at the house.”
“Can I come?” Regulus asks he hates that he has to find himself asking, but he doesn’t know any other way.
Sirius swallows thickly before he shrugs, “Whatever you want, Regulus.”
He’s walking away before Regulus can say anything else. He finds himself staying back, his feet planted on the ground beneath him. He almost wants to go back to Alphard’s grave, though he’s not sure what he’d even say. He’d probably just sit there, letting the wind speak for him. He doesn’t have any flowers. He doesn’t have anything to give, so he takes the long way home instead. Walking around the outskirts of town to make it to the other side. He doesn’t come across anyone, and no one comes across him. There are times when he swears he can see wisps following him like ghosts peeking over his shoulder. They don’t scare him, they never have. If they want to take him he thinks he’d let them. At least then someone would want him. That’s an awful thing to say. He walks on anyway.
It’s nice outside today at the very least. The smell in the air reminds him of early childhood. He’s on the playground swing, refusing to get off until he swings higher than he did the time before. He swore sometimes while he was up there it felt like he could’ve walked the moon. He could almost feel his feet against the surface. He always found himself looking up. He wanted to know what it felt like to hold a star in his hands, he wanted to feel the heat. He wanted to be a part of something, to be one of the few that managed to walk on the moon. Now he obsesses over the idea of feeling weightless. In a place with nothing but empty space. No one to disappoint. No one to wish you were with. No one and nothing. He could just float, with nothing covering him. Maybe he’d even get to hold a star. He can ask it home to become.
By the time he makes it back to the house, they’ve all already eaten. He doesn’t bother with the kitchen. He’s quiet coming in and he hears all their voices pouring out from the living room. He hears his cousins' voices, older than they were the last time he heard them. They used to all go to the beach together on vacation at the summer house. Bella always used to jump in first then goat the others to join her. Regulus hid behind Sirius every single time, too afraid to jump in himself, but he can still remember the taste of the breeze. He can remember the sound of their laughter as it ricocheted against the clear sky. They haven’t contacted him in years, but he’s not surprised. He shouldn’t be. There’s so much to remember, and forgetting is truly a sickness one can not cure.
Regulus doesn’t go into the living room like he should. He finds himself on the steps instead, pushing himself against the wall as if to capture the sound of their laughter from the other side. Warmth covers the house and Regulus finds himself leaning against it. Not quite falling in. He rests against the ocean waves. He closes his eyes around all, and who is he to keep asking for more? He puts himself on the outside of it all. He’s the one resting in the hall while the others hold onto memories he’s not a part of. Maybe Sirius is right. Maybe the sickness isn’t against Regulus at all. The barrier between Regulus and the rest of the world is just as thick as it is for everyone else. It’s only Regulus who keeps himself separated from all of it. He’s the sickness. He’s the reason.
Darkness clouds his vision, rolling over him completely. He was a fool for thinking anything else. He can blame all the melancholia in his chest for some outside force. He can say the stars are working against him and the Gods like using him as their plaything. He can say he has it harder than anyone else does. He can say it. He can feel it, but truly he’s the one with the blade and walls. He’s the one starting the war. Knowing this doesn’t change anything. He doesn’t walk into the other room. He doesn’t join them on the floor and let them pour him a glass of wine. He squeezes his eyes shut and calls for the ocean instead. For the first time, not only inviting it, but sending smoke signals in his wake.
“I’m here,” the voice whispers.
Regulus falls back around it. He won’t ask for anything else. He’ll ask for nothing, just this one thing. It’s not a lot, truly, just forever. He wants forever in a way forever will never want him back.
James is behind him drawing him in, kissing the side of his face, “I’m here.”
Regulus sniffles, his face falling into his arms, “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” James questions, his voice is frayed, soft.
Regulus shrugs weakly. The ocean is loud. It blocks it all away. “I’m tired.” He takes a breath, trying to take it all in. “It hurts.”
James holds him tighter, squeezing him, turning him to sand, “What does, baby?”
“Everything," he says, "Becoming,” Regulus answers. He’s not even sure if he’s become anything. He’s not sure if he’s morphing or changing. He thinks he’s been the same forever, he’s always been this way. “I miss everything.”
“I’m right here,” James answers, hiding his face in Regulus' shoulder. “I’ve got you.”
Regulus swallows against the words resting against his tongue. He’s not sure where he is. He’s not sure where he’s meant to be. “I want to go home,” he whispers. “I want to go home.”
The awful thing is he’s not even certain where home is. It pushes against his neck. It steals his breath. He doesn’t stand a chance here and he’s not even certain if he’s been home at all. His thoughts twist together until he’s not even sure what to think. The air is cold here. He misses the heat, but he’s certain he was like this back then too. He had no one in July. He has no one in October. He has this vision of home. It sits so clearly in his head, even if it’s a little faded. It’s a beautiful life, covered with flowers and greenery. It’s soft; bed sheets covered in daylight. Limbs tangled together stretching against it. Humming in the kitchen with the spring breeze coming in through the windows. A little lake in the backyard is covered with moss. Deer roaming around in the grass, eating the strawberries out of the garden. He sees it so clearly, how can it be gone from him? It’s only a little faded, worn with the passage of time.
“Look at me,” James says, and Regulus doesn’t hear at first until he says, “Please.”
Regulus shakes his head, before twisting to look over at him. James doesn’t say anything else, he just takes his face in his hands as his eyes flicker. A shutter of an old camera, the images come out grainy but Regulus will cling to them anyway. He takes a breath and tastes salt. He blinks quickly, reaching up to touch the tears on his face. “Oh.”
James lets out a breath of relief, “You’re with me?”
Regulus nods, “Yeah I’m…” he trails off. “I’m here.”
James takes him back into his arms, resting his chin against the top of his head. Regulus can feel his heartbeat against his chest, chasing after his ribs. Gently he drags his palm across his chest, letting his heart beat against his skin. He counts each beat. Closing his eyes against it, as his hand shakes. There’s a shaky feeling in his chest. The feeling like he’s lost something. It eats him alive.
He feels James’ hands shake against his back. He feels tears against his shirt. He doesn’t understand it. Something is wrong. It buries its way into Regulus’ chest, eating away at his liver. Reality tilts and Regulus feels the waves push against his skin, it’s crawling inside. He’s home, for a moment, a beautiful, tragic, fleeting moment.
“Hey,” he calls out softly, pulling away to look at him, “What’s wrong?”
James sniffles, squeezing his eyes shut as he ducks his head into Regulus’ shoulder, “Oh, Reg…”
“What?” Regulus whines, running his hands through his hair, he holds on. He can feel James resting in the palm of his hands, he feels like water. So delicate, that it slips through his fingers. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” James chokes, biting back his words. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” Regulus murmurs, he feels tears on his face but he doesn’t remember crying. He watches as they fall into James’ hair, tangling together with him. Regulus tastes salt, it’s unbecoming.
James shakes his head petulantly, forcing himself to lift his head and take Regulus’ face in his hands. He smiles sadly, it flickers in and out with the light, “I love you,” he says.
A whine escapes the back of Regulus’ throat, “James…”
“I love you so much, Reg,” James says quickly, wiping away his tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“What for?” Regulus asks him again.
“I can’t let you go,” James tells him, resting his forehead on his, “I’m not letting you go.”
Regulus reaches for his hands, not to pull them away, just to hold them, “Good,” he says, leaning closer, to kiss the side of his face.
James only chokes out another sob, before wrapping his arms around Regulus, squeezing him tighter. He buries himself in Regulus’ chest, keeping him close.
“It’s okay,” Regulus reassures him, rubbing quiet circles on his back, “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”
“Sorry.”
The word repeats again, and a third time. With each outtake of the ocean waves it repeats. Sorry. Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
By the end, Regulus isn’t even sure where it came from. He’s not sure where he’s heard it, but he’s mumbling it to himself, his nails digging into his palm. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
It envelops his chest and he chokes on ivy and moss. Again. Again. Again. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Salt water pours from his mouth, dripping onto his shirt; his socks are wet. Even while drowning he still feels the flame. It licks his skin and climbs his arms. Single embers reaching out to grab him, he wants to let them take him. He wants to be in the water. He’s sorry, and he wants to be in the water again. His hands are shaking when he takes a breath of fresh air. Gasping for air he blinks harshly.
His mouth is dry.
Sirius is standing at the bottom of the stairs with his arms crossed.
Regulus hurriedly dries his tears, sniffling, “I’m sorry,” he repeats.
Sirius nods, “You’ve been saying.”
Regulus looks up to the ceiling, as if there’ll be something there. Though he’s certain if there was anyone looking down at him they’re laughing more than anything else. “Sorry.”
Sirius kicks the bottom stair lightly in consideration, “What happened?”
Guilt eats away at Regulus’ liver, it envelops him completely. He can’t breathe. “Nothing,” He says, “I don’t know.” He reaches for the image and it disintegrates underneath his palm.
Sirius scoffs, “Okay,” he takes a step back. Regulus can hear the ravine shifting, he can feel the dirt in his lungs. “There’s food in the kitchen if you want it,” he says.
Regulus looks over at him, trying to find some aspect of the brother he knew. That’s unfair of him to say. He knows better than that. Sirius wasn’t the one changing. He’s not the one disintegrating. Regulus feels so much like a child at this moment, more than he has before. There was a tree he used to climb in their backyard, back when they were still with their parents. Regulus was smaller and he could scramble up to the thinner branches, leaving Sirius behind. It was the only time Sirius ever looked small to him. Sirius would call up to him, trying to get him to get down, but Regulus never did. It was the one time he managed to feel weightless like nothing else mattered besides that moment. He misses it. He misses knowing his brother would be there for him when he fell back down to earth more.
When he was a child he always dreamed of more. He thought he could have more. He always had these plans. When he turned eighteen he would do all these things. They were all stupid. He was so fucking stupid for asking for more. When he was small he never thought that would be the time he would want to go back to. He never thought it was the time he would strive to go back to.
“I miss you,” he hears himself say.
Sirius laughs coldly, shaking his head, “That’s not fair.”
Regulus swallows thickly, he feels his childhood crash around him. “I’m sorry.”
Sirius looks away, back to the living room, “Yeah, Reg,” he sighs, “Just go get something to eat, yeah?” he steps away. Regulus hears laughter from the other room. Always on the outside, isn’t he? It would be so easy to follow him, that’s the awful part. It would be so easy to tag along with his brother whenever he goes, that’s what he did when he was small; when it was better.
He doesn’t. He doesn’t go to the kitchen either even if he knows he should. He goes upstairs instead, slow enough that the stairs don’t creak, not that anyone would notice if they did. No one would ask after him. He’d follow them if only there was an invitation but he knows there are none. He goes to his room instead. It’s quiet; nearly silent, and yet the ocean just outside his window is loud.
It swallows him whole.