Chapter 5
A soft haze falls over the world, it’s gentle, almost delicate as if it’ll be broken by the wrong direction of the wind. Regulus runs his hand over the banister as he walks downstairs, rubbing his eyes of sleep as a yawn takes over his face. He knows it’s late but he’s not sure of the exact time. The curtains are drawn, and the gentle light of the moon doesn’t do much to tell him the time. He doesn’t care much to know, he walks on without it, letting the world tilt around him, absorbing him. He hears humming coming from the washer, it is placed in the room right below the stairs. It’s small, cramped even, but it’s the best place for it. Out of the way and not taking up space where it shouldn’t. There’s another sound, a familiar one, beautiful and kind just as Regulus remembers it.
“Talking away, I don’t know what I’m to say I’ll say it anyway,” James sings softly, “Today is another day to find you. Shying away, I’ll be coming for your love okay? Take on me, take me on. I’ll be gone in a day or two.”
Regulus comes into the room, staying quiet as he watches from the doorway. James stands at the dryer, his hair messed up from sleep, and yet his body sways to a silent beat. He reaches in for another shirt, before folding it and placing it on the top of the dryer.
“So needless to say,” he continues, “I’m odds and ends but that’s me I’m stumbling away, slowly learning that life is okay. Say it after me, it’s no better to be safe than sorry.”
James goes quiet, humming instead of singing, carrying the tune across the room. Regulus almost wants to stand here forever and never let up. He doesn’t want to be caught. He wants to be a private onlooker. He never wants to have to look away from this sight; soft and lovely. Every perfect moment has to say goodbye, eventually, though, just as every beautiful summer has to burn brightly into fall.
“What are you doing up?” Regulus questions, his voice heavy with sleep.
James turns around with a soft smile, “I should be asking you that,” he says.
Regulus shakes his head, stepping forward, “You need sleep.”
“I get sleep!” James argues, “I just know how much you hate waking up to clothes in the dryer.” He says, “I put them in too late and forgot about them. When I remembered I had to go down there.”
Regulus hums shortly, “What I hate more is waking up without you in bed with me.”
James pouts, “I thought you’d still be asleep by the time I went back.”
“Well you’re stupid then,” Regulus tells him, closing the distance as he reaches for another shirt out of the dryer. “Hurry up, I wanna go back to bed.”
James laughs, and there’s something about the sound of it in the morning. It does Regulus in. It’s no different than it is in the day, at least objectively speaking, but it feels different. It’s coated in this feeling he can’t quite name. Nostalgic almost, covered in this melancholia he can’t quite place, but it’s not a bad feeling. It’s a good one, even if it’s underneath rough rides. “I’m hurrying,” James says, quickly putting all his work in the basket just to his left.
“I know what you’re doing, you know,” Regulus says, folding one of James’ sweaters against his chest.
James’ eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”
Regulus tosses in the basket before grabbing another, “You have to let me go.”
James blinks, pausing in his work, “What?”
Regulus sighs, looking over at him, trying to reach his eyes, “You’ve spent too much time waiting for me, love, you have to stop waiting.”
“What are you talking about?” James whines, his voice cracking against the words.
Regulus smiles softly, “Let me go.”
“No,” James reaches out, trying to reach his arm, but he falls right through. “I’m not going to. I’m keeping you.”
“I want to be with you,” Regulus tells him, promises; vows. “I want nothing more, but I’m not even here.”
“Stop,” James whispers like cracks in the glass. His eyes always give him away, and right now he’s not meeting Regulus’ eyes. He’s looking away, shielding himself from it. “Please, stop.”
“Are you here, James?” Regulus asks innocently. “Are you with me?”
A simple question. A simple answer doesn’t come.
“I’m not letting you go,” James whispers, looking up at the ceiling. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
James whines, it comes from the back of his throat, “I’m scared,” he confesses in whispers cloaked with the darkness of the other side of the moon. “Reg, I’m scared, please. I’ll do anything.”
The image distorts, turning blurry the longer it goes on. They’re in the ocean. They’re on solid ground. They’re nowhere at all. Between life and death. Between knowing and not.
“Are you ready, James?”
“James?”
“Are you ready?”
Regulus opens his eyes to find himself in his childhood bedroom, lost between the dream world and the real one. He reaches out trying to hold onto it, trying to find the names written on the walls, or hear the whispers of the voice on the other side of the crack laying by the baseboards. He comes away with nothing. No matter how much he reaches out, grasping for wisps and smoke signals, he comes up empty. He’s not sure why he always ends up here. He’s not sure why this is the life he’s been destined to lead. It’s a loneliness he can’t ever push away, being so close to something before having to let it fall. Having no other choice than to give up, even if he’s only an inch away. He can feel it.
“You mumble in your sleep.”
He blinks, the rest of the room coming into focus as he looks over at his side. Sirius is sitting in a chair in the corner, picking at the threads of his sweater, but his gaze is on Regulus. It’s unwavering, even when Regulus catches him and looks back he doesn’t look away. “What?”
Sirius looks at him with no response for too long of a time before he says, “You were mumbling.”
“Why are you here?” Regulus croaks.
Sirius’ eyes flicker, the lights slowly go in and out as he taps his foot anxiously. “I’ve been here for days, Reg,” he answers. “I haven’t left your bedside in days.”
Regulus blinks, his eyebrows furrowing, “What are you talking about?” When he moves to sit up he has to stop himself, a sudden bout of dizziness hitting him all at once. He rests his head on his hand, keeping himself steady.
Suddenly Sirius is beside him with a glass of water urging it in his hands, “Drink.”
Regulus looks up to him as he takes a sip, only to realize how thirsty he truly is. His throat is dry as he urgently downs the entire thing. He stares at the bottom of the glass when it’s done, to the remaining drops of water dripping from the sides. He’s not sure why he’s so fixated on them, but he watches as they fall. Drip. Drip. Drip.
“Regulus?” Sirius calls out again.
Regulus looks over. He’s never seen Sirius as tired as he looks now. It’s a strange sight to see. Sirius’ eyes are sunken and red, covered with dark under-eye circles and etched with worry. Regulus doesn’t understand it. There’s something laid beneath it, something unheard of; unspoken. “Sirius.”
Sirius sighs, biting back his words, “What’s going on?” he asks, his voice cracking down the middle. A ravine forming in his chest, Regulus can see it. Before Regulus can respond he adds, “I know I haven’t been here for you. I didn’t know it was this bad, but you have to let me in now. You have to tell me what’s wrong.”
Regulus shakes his head, “Nothing’s wrong, Sirius.”
He knows it’s a lie, or partially one. He can’t help it though. He doesn’t want to leave yet. He wants to stay right here. The call of the ocean is a terrifying sight but it’s a comforting sound all the same.
“Why do you keep lying to me?” Sirius asks.
Regulus swallows thickly, setting himself on the back of the bed. Methodically he taps on the side of his leg. “I’m not lying,” he says.
“Yes, you are,” Sirius says.
Regulus throws his head back, looking up at the ceiling. He’s almost expecting to see glow-in-the-dark stars, though he’s not sure why. He’s never had them. “You just want me to leave,” he hears himself say, he’s not sure where it comes from.
“What?”
Regulus looks over at him, “You didn’t even want me here in the first place.”
Sirius opens his mouth to argue but Regulus stops him before he can.
“You didn’t want me here. You wanted me gone so I’ve been gone. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“Is it because of me?” Sirius asks him softly, Regulus can almost hear his heart breaking with his words. “Did I do this?”
Regulus shrugs, “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
The words fall around in the air around him in hushed tones. He’s never said it out loud before, but it sounds so right slipping from his tongue. He hears it repeating in his head. I don’t want to be alone anymore.
“You’re not alone,” Sirius tells him.
Regulus blinks, thrown back into himself, “Right,” he mumbles, looking back down at his hands but they don’t look like his own. The image is distorted. He’s sure if he found a mirror someone else would be looking back at him. It couldn’t be himself, or maybe he wouldn’t recognize himself. He’s not sure. He doesn’t think he’s ever been a person. He’s never been made of flesh and bone, only smoke from crossed signals he never properly learned how to read. They’re written in a language he no longer speaks, but he swears he recognizes traces of it. He swears he knows it.
“I’m here,” Sirius says. It’s funny how he says it now. It’s like saying, people only start listening once you've died. An artist never makes as much money as they do when they’re long dead and rotting. Sirius might say that Regulus isn’t dead, but Regulus disagrees. He thinks he’s been dead this entire time. Sirius raised a corpse. Regulus almost pities him for taking care of him for this long. He can’t get anything out of it. All the dead know how to pull people down with them. All the dead know is the feeling of rot.
“Yeah,” Regulus whispers, and there’s something else missing. There’s something he doesn’t see. He could explain but he knows Sirius wouldn’t understand. He knows he wouldn’t get it. He would think Regulus is making excuses. He’s never made excuses. He’s never felt anything other than dread.
“You’re all I have left,” Sirius murmurs, his words are drenched with a certain melancholia, it chokes Regulus when he tries to speak.
“You have Remus and Peter,” he says.
Sirius shakes his head, “That’s different.”
“Narcissa and Andy then.”
“Reg,” Sirius reaches out, grabbing his wrist, “You’re all I have left.”
Regulus looks up to meet his eyes, and he sees his own. He knows he should feel something. He should accept Sirius’ desperate offer, whatever it is he’s offering it’s more than Regulus has gotten in years. He should fall back into the promise of family, whatever that means anymore. He should crawl into his brother’s arms to shield himself from nightmares and storms, but he doesn’t. He pulls his arm away instead. He’s not sure why. A force commands him to, but it’s not an unwelcome one. It’s one from inside his chest, it wraps around his ribs like old ivy. Tugging him apart, opening him wide to reveal his beating heart in the center of all of it. He thinks he’s always been this way. He thinks there’s nothing he can do to stop it.
Wordlessly he shuffles around him before getting off the bed. Numbly walking to the other side of the room. The thoughts in his head are gone, and instead replaced with a sudden smoke and mist. It’s almost as if he’s on a cloud of his own making, or lost in space floating away from the atmosphere. He’s stuck to lay in the abyss wherever it may be. Floating whichever way he’s led, without control over where that might be. He thinks he’s been like this forever. He thinks he was born with a will the size of a grain of sand.
“Reg?” Sirius calls out in question but Regulus is already out of the door, pulled away to the other room. Down the end of the corridor, he’s met with the feeling of smoke behind him, and the flicker of a fire in front of him. He pauses in the center of it all, he doesn’t look back, but he feels a lone string tugging on the back of his hand. Asking in hushed questions and pleas. The ocean is a much more powerful call, and the wind takes him where it wants him. He doesn’t have a choice but even if he did he’d let the ocean take him wherever it wished. The ocean is dangerous but it sure is kind. It wraps around him like a blanket, protecting him from harm and the firm grip of reality. It might be an awful thought, but at least the ocean wants him forever. Regulus doesn’t have many wants or wishes. He learned very quickly that he'd never get what he wished for, but if he had one wish. Out of all the wishes he would choose from he would just ask for forever. It’s not really a lot. He’s not asking for much, just forever.
When he walks down the stairs and into the kitchen James is standing there, waiting for him, his hand outstretched and palm open. He has a sad smile, it buries its way through Regulus chest, sinking into his heart.
Regulus doesn’t hesitate before reaching out and taking his hand in his, letting himself be pulled in. James’ grip is soft, and his other hand comes to rest against the back of Regulus’ head, pulling him to his shoulder. Regulus presses his face into his shirt, hearing his heart race in his chest; breaking.
“What’s wrong?” Regulus mumbles, refusing to lift his head.
James kisses the top of his head, lingering beside him for a prolonged moment before pulling away, “Nothing baby,” he says.
Regulus doesn’t find himself believing him, but he pretends he does anyway. He’s not sure whose sake it’s truly for, him or James; maybe a combination of the two of them. James pulls him away and Regulus lets him, moving to wrap his arms around his neck. James puts his on his waist, gently swaying them to an imaginary tune. If Regulus closes his eyes he swears he can hear it, if only distant and in the background. He doesn’t recognize the beat but he knows it like breathing.
James holds his face, bringing him back in. Regulus opens his eyes to him and falls straight through, “Baby?”
Regulus hums, leaning to his hand. He feels as though he’s high up in the atmosphere, as his eyes droop with his touch. “Yeah, James?”
James strokes his cheek, unblinking as if to capture each moment he says, “You know I’m a man of big gestures. I’d scream my love for you for the entire world to hear. I’d name every star after you if I could, all the other ones be damned.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, a smile meeting his lips, “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love me that way,” James says.
Regulus nods, “Yeah, I do.”
James bites back a whine, “I’d follow you anywhere. Anywhere you want to take me. No matter where it is. I’d follow you blind. I’d follow you in death. I’ll capture you from the grips of the devil himself.”
“I’m right here,” Regulus tells him, “You’ve already got me.”
“Let me be romantic, I beg,” James says.
Regulus laughs simply, “Alright, go on.”
“I’m not just yours in this life,” James tells him. “I’m yours in the next one too, and the one after that. Even if…” his voice dies out the flicker of candlelight. “Even if you’re not mine in the next one I’ll still be yours, always.”
“I’m always yours, James,” Regulus reassures him, rubbing circles under his raised shirt. “Always will be.”
James’ smile turns sad as he leans down to rest his forehead on yours, “In the next one I’ll find you, and the one after that.” His words turn into whispers, “But I’m not worried about those right now. I just want this one.” He closes his eyes for a long moment, before he pulls away, looking back at Regulus’ eyes again. “I just want this one.”
It only hits Regulus then, “James…”
James smiles at his knowing, for a moment without everything else, it’s simple, “Regulus,” he strokes his cheek again, “I know I’m a man of big gestures,” he repeats. “But I want the quiet moments too, the moments like this. I want a simple life but only if I can do it with you,” he doesn’t go on one knee but the question remains the same. “Will you marry me, Reg?” he asks, “I want it all. I want all of it, the good and the bad no matter what it is,” he whispers, “As long as I’m doing it with you.”
“Yes,” Regulus says without hesitation, without asking more questions. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
“Is that a yes?” James jokes.
Regulus rolls his eyes, and he feels tears in his eyes, “Just kiss me already.”
James leans in and it plays out like the end of a movie, it’s the kind of ending you’re longing to see but it doesn’t feel right. Regulus' breath is taken and he’s stolen away in James’ hold. This is all he ever wanted. This is all he ever wanted, but something is wrong. James’ lips are soft against his own. Regulus breaths in and he feels James’ heart in his throat, he’s swallowed it whole. It’s a feeling he’s thought about before. Was he born to keep repeating the same broken history? Was he born to always sing the most tragic songs?
When James pulls away he has that look and Regulus just knows, he just knows.
“What is it?” he asks regardless.
James sniffles, but he tries to fight it, his eyes glisten like the morning dew, “I can’t keep you here.”
“No.”
“Reg--”
“No.”
James sighs, drying Regulus’ tears before they even have the chance to fall, “I have to let you go.”
Regulus tightens his grip on James' arm, digging his nails in; leaving claw marks, but James doesn’t seem phased. “Don’t leave me here.”
“It’s better this way,” James whispers, kissing him on the forehead, and giving out all his love. “I have to go, you know I do.”
He knows. He knows.
“Take me with you.”
“Not yet,’ James murmurs.
“I don’t want to do this without you,” Regulus confesses, it’s terrifying how much he means it.
James' eyes flicker behind Regulus’ back, and when he turns to join his gaze he expects to find nothing there. Instead, he peers through the corridor and finds a glimmer of heat instead. Flickers of embers lick the walls, chasing the smoke up to the ceiling. Regulus has never been the biggest fan of fire, and yet something inside him told him he’d always end up here again.
“It’s time.”
Regulus turns back to face him, “I’ll stay here with you. I don’t care.”
“You know I can’t let you do that,” James says.
Regulus whines, breaking forward to shove his face back in James’ chest. As if the fire will go away; what he can’t see can’t hurt him, but the heat is reaching him now. It beats across his back. James' hands run through his hair as if on instinct, comforting him even when he’s the one leaving. Regulus knows they’re running out of time, he’s known they’ve been running out of time this entire time, but he can’t help it. He claws for more time, clinging to the last bit of scraps he can get his hands on. The ocean is too powerful. It takes what it wants. No matter what Regulus does he can’t fight the current. All that’s left to do is let go. That’s all he can do, but he stays holding onto James. Even as the fire reaches the kitchen. Even as the smoke falls into his lungs, he can’t help it. He doesn’t care.
“Baby, baby, baby,” James says hurriedly pulling him away if only to look him in the eyes. “You can’t do this to me.”
Regulus looks up at him with wide eyes, “Let me stay?”
“I’m weak, I’m awful,” James tells him. “I’ve been keeping you here this entire time. It’s not fair to you.”
“We were happy,” Regulus urges. “We are happy. Aren’t we happy?”
James smiles sadly, “So happy. I haven’t been happier being with you again. Loving you again.”
“So let’s go,” Regulus says. “Let’s be happy.”
James sniffles, and with a shake of his head he says, “I can’t let the fire take you again.”
Regulus stills, looking back the fire has grown. The heat is overwhelming. It’s something familiar. “Jamie…”
“I know,” James whispers, taking his face again, pulling in his eyes. “Thank you for letting me have this. Even if…” he breaks, “Even if you don’t remember. I love you. Thank you.”
“What do you mean?” Regulus' eyes go wide hurriedly, “James, what do you mean?”
James shakes his head, “Nothing,” he reassures him, “You have to go.”
Distantly Regulus hears sirens from just outside, they’re tied together with the wind. He can’t tell the difference between the two of them. He turns back for a moment to chase after the noise, trying to spot it. It’s only a second. A simple distraction.
When he turns back there’s nothing to see through the smoke. It’s in his lungs, he coughs but only more comes through. He shakes his head, as if it is a dream, “James?” he calls out, the name is foreign to him, but he calls for it anyway. “James!” His voice breaks down the middle. He screeches as tremors run through the floor. The fire crackles behind him, scaring him from the haze as he breaks forward through the back door. Coughing out the smoke as he collapses to the ground outside the porch.
Before he can fall he’s lifted back up and his brother is right in front of his face, pushing away his hair checking to see if he’s hurt.
“I couldn’t find you,” Sirius says hurriedly, “I thought you left. I couldn’t find you anywhere, and the smoke was too thick for me to see through. I thought you--” his breath is stolen from his chest as he rushes forward crushing Regulus against his chest. “I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead.” His sobs rush over Regulus' chest, and for once he feels them with full fever. They consume him and his chest breaks in two.
“Oh.”
Sirius pulls away, tears covering his face as he looks over Regulus again, “You’re not hurt right? You’re okay? Is anything wrong?”
Regulus opens his mouth but nothing comes out, he blinks slowly, turning back to the house as the flames consume it. Smoke leaks from the windows and doors, carrying itself out towards the grass around them. The sirens are loud and blaring as they come up the street. Regulus takes a deep breath and all he smells is smoke. “What…”
“Reg,” Sirius pulls his eyes away, “Is everything okay?”
There’s this strange feeling in his chest, it feels like loss, but he’s not sure what for what. He’s missing something. He left something in the house but he doesn’t know the name. It’s all gone up in flames. He shakes his head from it, blinking away the heat, and letting the rest of the moment settle in. He looks at the scenery around him. He looks at his brother. Then back at the burning house.
“Sirius,” he says.,
“Yeah?”
“When did I get home?” Regulus mumbles, he goes over it in his mind but comes up empty.
Sirius’ face falls, “What do you mean?”
Regulus looks at him confusedly, then back at the house, there’s something there, a glimmer. “Nothing,” he mumbles.
Sirius hooks his arm around Regulus’ shoulders, “We should get you checked out,” he says, “The ambulance should be here soon.”
Regulus doesn’t argue with him, he stumbles with his grip, not able to rip his eyes from the house. He sees flickers of something hiding behind the curtains as if it’s calling him home; calling him into the fire. The strangest part is he almost wants to run back into it. He’s not sure what that means, but deep down lost in the field of grief, he has a good feeling. That doesn’t happen very often. He breathes it in, it tastes of fire and the smallest hint of ocean breeze.
He never breathes it out again.