Rain smacked against the windowpanes. The drops ran down the glass, akin to tears slipping down the curvature of a face.
It was dark. The moon was a pale yellow and did little to illuminate the sky. Even the scattered stars were swallowed by the lapping sea of darkness. A single streetlamp flickered just outside the window.
Flashes of blue tore through the night.
A loud, repetitive whine cut the howls of the wind. A siren calling out through the harsh weather
Sirius’ head raised from the devastating sight, but his arms remained tightly wrapped around him. A short gasp of relief interrupted the sobs that wracked his body.
He was going to be okay.
He had to be. Sirius didn’t know what would happen if he wasn’t. Didn’t know what he would do, didn’t know how he’d cope, didn’t know if he could carry on without him.
He was cold to the touch, growing colder every passing moment. Clammy hands were slacking in Sirius’ palms, falling limp like the rest of his body. A pulse was there, but that too was becoming fainter and fainter. Short, shallow breaths passed through lips so pale they were barely visible.
And yet he looked peaceful. So young and innocent. It had been so long since Sirius had seen that side of him. And that made it all the worse.
His little Reggie.
Sirius knew he should’ve visited sooner. Should’ve visited more often. He ran it over and over in his head. What could he have done differently? What signs did he miss? Why couldn’t he have prevented this?
There was an unmistakable feeling of wrong buried deep in his gut when Sirius had woken up this morning. He’d ignored it, brushed it off as nothing. But it had only grown, manifesting itself deeper and deeper as the sun dipped from the sky and the moon slowly rose.
Then Regulus didn’t pick up the phone. He always picked up. Always.
And Sirius knew.
He barely remembered running to his car. Or the drive. Or how he had to kick the door down because, just as he had feared, there was no response. The lights were switched off and the house was eerily quiet, only the heavy steps of Sirius’ boots and deep breaths echoed down the hallway.
The door groaned as he pushed it open.
Regulus’ room was just as dark as the rest of the house, just as cold, just as quiet. And Sirius’ heart sank even further. His little brother hated the dark. His room was never dark. Why was it dark? Sirius’ thoughts swirled faster and faster, contorting into a tornado that threatened to swallow him whole.
“Si... Siri...” a faint voice wheezed.
His eyes snapped down and there he was. Regulus. Lying on the floor with his chest heaving up and down at each breath. He was barely visible, Sirius could only just make out his silhouette, but he rushed to his brother’s side.
“Reggie, why-” his voice caught in his throat as he fully assessed the situation in front of him.
Empty pill bottles scattered on the floor. The glassy far-off look in his eyes. His struggle to breathe, to move, to do anything.
He swore repeatedly under his breath as he struggled to find his phone, hands shaking as he dialled for emergency services. Ten minutes. The ambulance would be there in ten minutes.
He prayed to every deity he knew that Regulus could hold on for just ten more minutes.
His eyes fell shut after three. His body began to fall slack after five. He was unresponsive after seven. The only indication of life was the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
And Sirius broke.
Floods burst from the dam constructed behind his eyes and he pressed the back of his hand against Regulus’ face. Cold. Then he jumped to his wrist, hoping for a strong beat. Faint.
Sirius arms snaked around his little brother, clutching him close, terrified that if he let go – even for just a second – that Regulus would fade away.
He had no measure of time. It had felt like a vast eternity that he had sat on the floor, sobbing as he cradled his brother. It had felt like mere seconds that he had sat on the floor before the paramedics arrived.
They had to wrestle Regulus away from him.
Watching them wheel his little brother into the ambulance, Sirius didn’t think he’d ever seen Regulus look so small.
The paramedics must have told him to meet them at the hospital. He wasn’t sure. His head felt fuzzy, ears plugged as if he was being held underwater.
He didn’t remember the drive to the hospital at all.
Sat in a brightly light hospital waiting room, his knee bouncing up and down at a rapid pace, he felt everything hit him all over again. Reggie, his little brother, was barely hanging onto life. What if he didn’t - no, Sirius couldn’t think like that. He would be fine. He had to be.
A doctor called his name.
They refused to give him any information about his brother, merely telling him that he was in emergency care. Sirius tried to run through the large hospital doors, to find Reggie, but was quickly stopped by several hospital staff. He put up a fight until they threatened to remove him from the building. He stopped quickly after that.
So, he returned to his seat. His knee bounced even faster, and he ran his hands through his hair over and over again before gripping it so tightly he nearly ripped strands from his scalp.
He couldn’t - didn’t want to – even think about what was happening across the hospital. All he could do was wait. And wait.
And wait.
The weather worsened, lighting split through the sky as thunder rumbled in rhythm with the harsh rain. Puddles fused as the streets flooded.
His panic must have been clear, as the stranger sat two seats down from him turned and asked, “scared of thunder, hey?”
Unable to find his voice, he simply shook his head.
Regulus was deathly afraid of thunderstorms when he was a child. He would sneak into his big brother’s room and crawl into his bed, seeking a protection and comfort that only Sirius could provide.
They would huddle together under the blankets until the storm had passed, whispering stories and making up tales. Their mother never allowed them toys, but their imagination was more than enough for the young boys.
The childish glow of hope and wonder had long since dulled in Regulus eyes. What Sirius wouldn’t do to steal just one more night. To have his little brother find comfort in him .
But Sirius had left. Regulus had stayed.
What was once a close fortress holding them together, splintered and fractured down into rubble. The ruins of their brotherly bond were never quite restored. Some cuts ran too deep, some cavities couldn’t be filled.
Regulus lost himself, drowning in substance after substance. But none provided the comfort he was seeking. He’d spend night after night calling out for his brother, hoping Sirius would come and save him. Hoping his big brother would want him again.
But Sirius wasn’t strong enough to dive after him. He’d barely gotten out of that house alive. The guilt of leaving his little Reggie ate away at him, but Regulus had wanted to stay. He’d begged him to stay, too. And Sirius couldn’t. He refused to die in that house.
It wasn’t until their mother’s death, years later, that they even saw each other again.
And the reunion was bittersweet. Years of pent-up resentment clashed with a brotherly longing.
Sirius promised to never leave again. Regulus promised to try and get better. He went to rehab and sought out a therapist. He’d told Sirius that he was enough, that he didn’t need drugs half as much as he needed his brother. And Sirius believed him.
Things were getting better. Weeks passed. Then months. It wasn’t perfect, by any means, but it was better . Regulus had made so much progress, and Sirius couldn’t be prouder.
But that hadn’t been enough. Sirius hadn’t been enough. Because here he was, sat in a hospital waiting room, hoping his brother wouldn’t die.
His name was called again. Heart bouncing in his throat, he walked over to the expressionless doctor.
The words barely hit his ears before he fell to the floor.
“We’re sorry to inform you that your brother, Regulus, has passed.”
Sirius laid in bed. It was cold. Dark.
He couldn’t sleep.
He’d lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, barely blinking as the city rain drummed against the window.