Spinning Out
After Sirius fixed his ribs and Regulus fulfilled his part of the agreement by eating, he painstakingly pulled himself back together, withdrawing from James' gentle arms and his brother's quiet reassuring words, scrubbing the emotion from his face and voice. The pain had made him weak, the loss of control made him spiral and he'd been careless with his secret, their concern and care had seeped into him, coaxed him into revealing too much, but Regulus wouldn't make that mistake again. He knew they would be watching him more closely now, knew they weren't satisfied with the story he fed them, but it was no matter, he'd show them they were being ridiculous and they wouldn't second guess him again.
During mealtimes, Regulus added more to his plate, purposefully facing the Gryffindor table while he ate so that Sirius and James, who were about as subtle as an atomic bomb with their staring, would be reassured that he didn't have a problem. It was the only way to get them off his back, so he shoved food into his mouth as mindlessly as possible, despite the cramping in his stomach, the nausea that crawled up his throat, and the relentless calculator that couldn't be silenced or ignored, intent on reminding him how much of a failure he was. Petty as he is, he'd glare back occasionally while taking a bite to wordlessly tell them to shove off. He dreaded those three times a day, the prying eyes that rested on him felt among the thousands, and the effort taken to lift his fork was immeasurable, as if he were trying to move a mountain, there was so much heaviness in every bite, so much disappointment.
When he'd tried to escape to the prefects bathroom his scheduled two hours after dinner, he'd found Sirius waiting at the entrance, leaning against the wall and twirling his wand idly. Regulus' hands squeezed into fists, briefly considering decking his brother in his stupid face for being so overbearing. Their constant gaze on him in the Great Hall and the extra food Regulus had been eating was chafing his nerves and he had constant headaches from grinding his teeth so much, his muscles ached from being tense all the time. He needed this, to grab ahold of the reins again, his mind a wild torrent of vicious thoughts, and Sirius was standing between Regulus and the only thing that would quiet them.
"Come to watch me bathe, brother? Or are you replacing Moaning Myrtle as the most obnoxious entity dwelling in bathrooms?"
Sirius flashed a smile that was all teeth, "Maybe I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about, seeing as this is your favorite place in the castle."
"Well, it used to be a place for some peace and quiet, away from every other insufferable git in the castle, but I suppose that's over now." Regulus' blood was practically thrumming in his veins, he was all at once furious with his brother, itching for a fight, for the feeling of cold tiles bruising his knees and acid burning his throat. "Are you just stalking me for fun or are you on the outs with your friends again and just desperate for companionship? Never knew how to be alone, did you? Even when you deserve to be."
Regulus didn't enjoy being cornered. He could logically understand the concern they'd had for him, but he'd shoved more food than he could handle every meal for days to prove he was fine and yet, his brother and James insisted on cropping up everywhere anyway. He needed them to back off before he did something stupid, he needed to disappear until he felt right again, and he knew exactly how to hit where it hurts to do so. Sirius was stubborn but incredibly sensitive, and the Blacks had a special knack for getting under people's skin, so it really wasn't very hard at all to find the words that would push his brother away from him and force him to give up.
Sirius' nostrils flared, mouth pulling into a thin, taut line. "I don't buy your bullshit story, Regulus. James might be willing to believe you out of love, or some misplaced belief that you wouldn't ever lie to him, but I don't buy it."
"I don't particularly care what you think, I never have," Lie. "James believes me because I don't have any reason to lie to him," Lie. "But your incessant need to crop up everywhere you're not wanted should really be studied, I'd have thought that habit would've diminished now that you've left home, but here you are again, begging for attention from anyone who will look at you."
"It's a wonder James found something worth loving in that cold, empty cavern where your heart should be. How do you think he'll take it when he realizes you've been lying to him for weeks? Think he'll finally see the true Black in you and be repulsed by it? Is that why you hide every chance you get?" Sirius kicked off the wall, walking toward him with forced nonchalance, a muscle jumping angrily in his jaw. Regulus gripped his wand as his brother came closer, silvery blue eyes flinty as he loomed over him, "I can play this game too, brother. I know just as well how to lash out to avoid being truly seen, and you are floundering."
"Flipendo!"
Regulus lashed, not waiting to see where Sirius landed or if he would return fire before fleeing the corridor, feeling as if a hive of bees had been released underneath his skin. He stomped all the way back to the Slytherin common room, ignoring every person he passed and throwing the door to his dorm open, startling Barty and Evan, who had clearly been snogging seconds before. Regulus muttered something about taking a shower and swiftly locked himself in their bathroom, only daring to drop to the floor once he'd set wards on the door.
Regulus knew it'd be James who would come find him next, and he dreaded it, knowing with grim certainty that Sirius would have told him everything Regulus had said. He hated when James was angry, mostly because instead of yelling or throwing things, his anger usually consisted of the quiet disappointment of someone who had expected better but wasn't necessarily surprised, either. That always hurt worse than yelling ever could have. He avoided James harder than he already had been, purposefully sitting with his back to the Gryffindor table, tired of trying to prove himself and just wanting to be left alone, taking different routes that wouldn't intersect with his and only visiting the prefects bathroom when he knew the Gryffindors were at practice, and using the dorm bathroom when he was really desperate.
Each day under James and Sirius' scrutiny made him feel worse, it reminded him of his mother and her ever-present disapproval and watchful gaze. It only made choking down food harder, feeling as if he were on display, fighting to keep his back straight while he ate, to minimize the tremble in the hand that held his fork, and to not think too deeply about every bite as it made its way to his stomach. Every bite of food was ash in his mouth, he couldn't make himself focus on what his friends would talk about, no matter how hard they'd try to pull him into conversations, he was too occupied keeping his movements mechanical, keeping his thoughts from spinning out too hard, but it was no use. Regulus only became more desperate to purge, simultaneously more cautious and more reckless than he'd ever been before, controlled as he was during meals, he found himself in one bathroom or another each day, whenever he found an opportunity, he was on his knees one moment, and walking to class blank-faced the next.
Barty and Evan had taken to hexing James and Sirius in the hallways on sight, assuming they were harassing Regulus for one thing or another, and reaching an unspoken agreement to prevent them from getting to their friend. More than once, their strategy had unknowingly helped Regulus get away to purge, a now daily occurrence, that was quickly becoming more frequent each time he witnessed the hurt look that crossed James' face at Regulus' avoidance and coldness. Sirius was more eager to simply fight Barty and Evan to get to Regulus, but James always ended up pulling him away by the back of his robes, muttering something with the shake of his head.
"Oi!" Regulus exclaimed, rubbing the eye Barty had rudely bounced a bread roll off of to get his attention, "What was that for?!"
"You've been sulking for days, and I've left it because Evan said to give you space, but you're clearly not going to snap out of it on your own, so it's time to fess up. What did your brother and Potter do and why are we hexing them for it every day?"
Regulus scowled, his eye still watering from the bread assault, "And you just had to throw food at me to get my attention?"
"Avoiding the question." Barty tsked, sharing an exasperated look with Evan.
"You haven't exactly been on planet Earth lately, space cadet." Evan leaned forward to knock a fist against Regulus' forehead, which he batted away testily. "Nothing we've tried has gotten your attention, Barty even faked choking to death at breakfast this morning and you didn't even blink."
Regulus blinked, "You did?"
"Avoiding the question!" Barty shouted unnecessarily loud, drawing stares from several surrounding Slytherins, before he added in a quieter voice, "Thanks for noticing, by the way, made me feel real good, that."
"Soo? What's happened with your brother and Potter?" Evan prodded before they could get off track again.
Regulus sighed, drawing a lie from an old argument, or rather, an unresolved one that cropped up frequently. "They're trying to convince me to run away as Sirius did, leave before the death eaters get me so we can all cheerfully ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after."
Barty wrinkled his nose, "Haven't they gathered that you're not interested yet? It's not as if you were jumping at the opportunity to leave with your brother the first time."
Regulus had wanted to leave when Sirius came to his door, dragging a bum leg behind him, blood running down his face and neck, burns on his wrists from where they'd restrained him. He'd wanted to so badly he ached with it, imagining living in the warm, golden light of Potter Manor, imagining waking up in James' arms in the mornings, imagining christmases in a house that smelt of gingerbread and cinnamon, adorned with lights and ornaments. A soft life with a big library, slow mornings with James, and broom racing in the snow with his brother were all Regulus really wanted. But it was not the life he was born to, not the destiny that was tied to him the moment Sirius decided to leave. There was a war on anyway, and dreams of a life that was not attainable to him would only hurt in the end, so Regulus did not dream, he refused. He would take the little time he had with them, and those memories would be the warmth that would stave away the cold rot of his insides when his world went dark after Hogwarts.
Regulus flinched as yet another bread roll glanced off his face, this one thankfully missing his eyes and smacking the center of his forehead. "Crouch! I will skewer your eyeballs with this steak knife and feed them to you!"
Barty rolled his eyes at the steak knife cutting through the air in front of his face, entirely unconcerned about his best friend's fury, "I'm not complaining about the hexing, I'll happily continue to, but I just want to know what they did and why you don't do anything about them."
His secret was catching up to him, succumbing to the urges every day, sometimes more than once, was beginning to wear on Regulus. Despite applying glamours in the morning, he still appeared ghostly and weary beneath them, with cracked red lines on his pale lips, a persistent sheen of cold sweat on his face, and a purplish ring under his eyes that were too deep to be fully covered by charms now. It was never supposed to get this bad, he was supposed to have it handled, to follow his schedule and his set rules to stay in control and also stay hidden. But now, he became winded from climbing the stairs and making the trek down to the dungeons, the dizzying hunger he normally felt had simply vanished, replaced with a light numb feeling that was much preferable, but made it hard for him to find his usual limits. He used to be able to refrain from going overboard on the purging and eating, used to know his body's cues when he was too eager and needed to pull back from it again, he used to be able to stop it, if only for a little while. But now it was the only thing keeping him anchored, the firm grip he had on his hunger, on his calorie intake, on his emotions.
James showed up everywhere he went, hallways that Regulus knew for a fact were far from his next class, appearing near the entrance to the dungeons when he was coincidentally leaving, or bathrooms Regulus happened to be heading toward with one goal in mind. It was as if he had a tracking spell or a map, somehow James knew exactly where he'd be each time and when he was able to get away from Quidditch and classes, he always appeared in Regulus' path. He'd endured many of Barty and Evan's hexes, but he seemed to have endless patience, as he never retaliated, never seemed interested in their taunts as they tried to pick a fight, his eyes remained fixed upon Regulus each time. Oh, how Regulus wished James would look away, how he wanted to scream for him to avert his beautiful eyes from Regulus' wretched frame, it'd be easier if he hadn't looked at him with such unfathomable love. Yes, he was angry and hurt, a million other things too, probably, but what hurt the most was the ever-present love that shone in his eyes when he looked at Regulus.
Regulus, who had avoided him for days on end, allowed his friends to hex him each time and not offer his boyfriend a single word of explanation, not even to argue. Regulus, who had picked every cutting word meticulously when faced with his brother, as if he were finding the perfect stone to throw through a window, he'd chosen the words he knew would hurt Sirius the worst, and subsequently, hurt James. In truth, Regulus couldn't have spoken to James if he'd tried, he wasn't brave enough to attempt it, but he also didn't have the language to, couldn't communicate the despair that radiated off of him, couldn't handle the guilt that clung to him like a wet coat whenever he looked their way and caught a glimpse of the grief he'd caused them.
Regulus was tired deep in his bones as they strode to potions class, Barty and Evan flanking him as they always had, not that Regulus really needed protection, but maybe they'd thought Regulus wasn't brave enough to curse his brother in the halls, so they did it for him. He was grateful for them really, not that he could voice it, it wasn't really how they operated, there was just an unspoken loyalty between the three of them, no need to make things awkward with heartfelt declarations, that was more of a Gryffindor thing anyway. Regulus had forgotten they had class with the bane of his current existence, his brother and his friends, too busy focusing on the task of putting one foot in front of the other, counting the steps until he could drop into his seat and stepping only in the middle of each tile to avoid cracks, trying to drive away black spots in his vision by sheer force of will. In twenty-seven steps, he sagged onto his stool at their usual table, barely resisting the urge to lean his head on his arms until class started and instead pulling his book and quill out. He nearly fell out of his stool when a familiar voice called for him, quiet and unsure.
"Reg?"
He froze in place, book halfway out of his bag, staring down at the red trainers with the dumb drawings scribbled onto them, the ones that stood directly in front of him. He hadn't spoken to Regulus directly in days, he was always responding to Barty and Evan's hexes, too busy avoiding them to address him, but now he was two feet away, and no spells were flying. It was quiet around him, except for the hushed pain in his boyfriend's voice calling for him.
"Regulus," James said hoarsely, a mere whisper, though he was sure Barty and Evan could hear it.
Regulus glanced at his friends first, because he was a coward, and for the first time in a week, they hadn't hexed James for coming so close to him, and he was curious why. Barty had his wand at the ready, but Evan had a hand resting on his wrist, eyebrows pulled together as he scrutinized James, searching for something. He couldn't be sure what Evan saw in James' face, maybe it was desperation or fear, but after a moment, Evan wordlessly pulled Barty's wand hand down, shaking his head to tell him to back down.
"Regulus, please just look at me,"
The words were so quiet, so thick with strain, and Regulus could almost feel the pain in them, could remember when it was him, begging his mother to see him, to look at him with anything other than her detached indifference. Nothing hurts more than pleading with someone you love to care about you even just a little, even when it kills you to have anything less than their requited love. It's why Regulus ultimately decided to look at him, he couldn't stand for James to believe he didn't love him, couldn't stand to hear him beg for love that he already had. Regulus wasn't prepared for how much it would hurt, his heart giving a sharp twist and yank as if the cold, dead thing that had been his heart had been jumpstarted with one glance. James stood before him, chewing on the inside of his cheek, fiddling with his wand in both hands, appearing both anxious and determined.
"What do you want?" Regulus rasped, only just managing to get the words out, anxiety squeezing his throat with an iron grip.
James hesitated, like he hadn't thought he would get this far, and didn't plan further. He glanced at Barty and Evan, who were seated next to him and watching intently, but not actively pointing wands at him, though Barty kept his in hand as he watched the interaction suspiciously.
"You can't keep this up forever, lov- Reg. We won't stop, no matter how much you try to avoid us, we won't give up on you."
Regulus gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as the words hit him right in the chest. It was too much, the pain in his voice, the flicker of emotions passing through hazel eyes, the steady undercurrent of love in them. James' love was best described as that, steady, unyielding, and immovable. Once he'd decided he loved someone, that was it, James would love through betrayal, heartbreak, etc; His love was steady, but his words, that look on his face, were making Regulus dizzy, the world swaying slightly from where he sat on his stool.
"Is that a threat?" Evan spoke up from over Regulus' shoulder, though he sounded uncertain like he was genuinely trying to work out if it was.
James didn't look away from Regulus to answer, merely opening his mouth to answer when he was interrupted by Slughorn bustling in, papers fluttering to the ground behind him as he rushed to get to his desk and start the class. He dumped a pile of papers and small vials of various potion ingredients on his desk, swishing his wand for them to organize themselves and clapping his hands to get the class's attention. James lingered for a moment, reluctant to leave, but eventually slinked back to sit next to Sirius, who had also been watching intently and squeezed James' shoulder reassuringly, murmuring something to him and sending a glare Regulus' way.
Potions were Regulus' best subject, and he was top of his class each year in Hogwarts, with the exception of third year when Snape narrowly beat him out by a few points. But today he couldn't focus on the words in his textbook, they swirled and blurred on the page, looking more like black ink splotches than words. He'd practically memorized how to make draught of living death already, so he did most of it by memory, keenly aware of the eyes burning holes into his back. Barty and Evan tried to question him about James but didn't get very far and gave up pretty quickly when he simply didn't respond, mechanically chopping ingredients and dropping them into their cauldron. Shivers wracked his body, the dank cold of the dungeon had teeth, and he found himself struggling to concentrate past the cold sweat running down the back of his neck that raised goosebumps in its wake. Everything around him was a blur, a hum of distant noise and voices, nothing was able to penetrate the cold wall of guilt insulating Regulus.
At one point, he vaguely recognized Slughorn was asking him to go into the closet to grab some flobberworms he'd forgotten to distribute to the class, and Regulus felt himself nod once without realizing he was doing so, halfway between autopilot and feeling so much of everything he couldn't be sure what was true and what wasn't. The body can only take so much strain, so much abuse before it gives up, no matter what the will of the person is, and at that moment, when Regulus stood up from his stool and took a step away from the table, his body had given up. Regulus crumpled without a word, not even an exhale of breath had left his body when his temple caught the edge of the table, he'd been unconscious before he ever hit the ground, and for him, it wasn't scary at all. The same could not be said for his friends.
Barty and Evan, who had been exchanging silent looks and whispering to each other all class, hadn't expected the collapse, and half anticipated a jet of light from across the room as an explanation for their friend's sudden fall. Barty had grabbed his wand on instinct, looking for the offender, while Evan called for the teacher.
James had frozen, dropping the knife he'd been using to chop ingredients, bowing in with a hand braced on the table like he'd been punched in the gut. Sirius let out a sound akin to that of a wounded animal as if he were the one on the floor, unconscious with a bloody gash above his brow, and rushed to his brother's side without another thought.
Sirius hovered over his brother, vaguely registering Slughorn ordering students to stand back, sending one to call for Madam Pomfrey, but he ignored it all, casting diagnostics he'd memorized from his healing books on Regulus' unconscious form. He grabbed his brother's hand as he worked, wincing at how cold it was, heart racing furiously, thoughts a constant litany of I knew it, I knew, I couldn't stop it, I couldn't stop him, I knew.
He thinks he can make out the sound of James' cries, and if he'd turned around, Sirius would find James' face tucked in Remus' shoulder, while his boyfriend whispered kind words, keeping a firm grasp on his shoulders. Their relationship was secret for Regulus' safety, and James had been trying so hard not to let it get to him, which was easier when he and Regulus were actually talking, but it'd been killing him, Regulus' cold avoidance and the rapid decline of his health. They both were powerless to stop it, and yet they'd known when Regulus inevitably fell apart they'd be there to pick up the pieces, but James couldn't do a thing in a dungeon full of Slytherins.
Sirius' stomach churned at the results of the diagnostic charm set aglow over Regulus' frail body, blinking red and purple warning signs, proof of what he'd suspected since he'd fixed his ribs, since he'd witnessed firsthand the fear that passed through Regulus' eyes when he'd been made to eat in front of them. He had known, and it still hurt to see. Slughorn was still speaking, but Sirius generally thought he was an incompetent git and disregarded him entirely, absentmindedly casting a featherlight charm over Regulus before scooping him up and fleeing the dungeon. No one tried to stop him, though he thinks someone might've protested, Sirius was solely focused on how cold his brother's skin was, clammy with sweat, and how his horribly gaunt features looked worse up close, beyond the glamours he'd obviously put there.
"You're so stupid, Reg, you're such an idiot," He whispered to his limp brother, blood staining the collar of his robes and his Gryffindor tie, gold overrun with red as he moved as fast as he could, trying his best not to jostle him. "Just hold on, I'm gonna fix this, I've got you, petite étoile."
"-said he was sick, and I'd suspected since then, and when I performed the diagnostic after he collapsed, it was-"
Regulus cracked his eyes open to a searing headache and his brother's voice filtering in and out, somewhere in the room, he couldn't see, vision obscured by curtains and swirls of color. It took him a moment to register the hand moving through his hair and the chill in the air, the strange feeling of cold liquid moving through his constricted veins. He opened his eyes wider, blinking until his surroundings stopped swaying, he shivered, alerting the person attached to the hand in his hair to his wakefulness.
"Reg? Hey lovely, I'm here." James gave him a small smile through reddened eyes, tugging the blankets a bit higher and tucking Regulus in like a child before settling again, his hand threading through Regulus' curls again.
It took a minute for it to occur to Regulus where he was and why. He was distracted by James' soothing presence, the coldness flowing through his veins and the burning in his temple. When he'd remembered potions class, James' voice cracked open as he'd pleaded with Regulus to look at him, the glare Sirius had given him, he shot up in bed, or he tried, but was weighed down by a tug in his arm and the pain in his head. Regulus hissed, blankets falling down around his hips and revealing his arm, the arm that he'd felt a strange tug in when he'd tried to move had a tube in it, one that disappeared into his vein and extended a long way next to him, attached to a full bag of something above his head. Whatever it was had to be responsible for the cold feeling taking over his entire body, not numbness but actual cold, like ice cubes circulating through his veins, and the realization made him nauseous.
James shot up when he did, "Hey, careful! You're not well," He gently pushed Regulus back down, who went willingly, confused, hurt, and afraid, but a soothing hand was rubbing circles on his shoulder, and Regulus was so tired, so he went willingly, lying back against the pillows. "Just relax, lovely, it's alright, you've gone a bit green."
Regulus cautiously prodded at the tube to avoid looking at James, the tape around it and a bit of blood stuck between the skin and sticky tape, a fingernail picking at the edges. He knew he needed to face James at some point, knew he was being cowardly, but couldn't find it in him to look at the boy he loved, knowing he'd hurt him so badly when James was so undeserving of it. He was trying to pluck up the courage to ask what the tube was when the curtain rustled and slid open, revealing Sirius, blood staining his white color and tie, and his long, curly hair pulled back and secured in a bun with his wand.
Sirius crossed the space to get to Regulus wordlessly, and he flinched on instinct. They hadn't spoken a word since they fought, and Regulus knew he deserved cutting words and harsh looks, knew he deserved a fit of rage against him and yelling, but Sirius did none of those things. He merely batted Regulus' hand away from where he was picking at the tape and slid a hand to the back of his neck, gently tugging his head forward to kiss it, sighing into Regulus' hair.
"Don't pick at that, it's there to help you," He gestured to the tubing in his arm before sighing again and settling on the side of the bed, face lined with exhaustion, tightness around his eyes that proved Sirius was angry, he'd just decided it wasn't the time to be. "You scared the shit out of us, petite étoile."
Regulus stared at his hands, the tube in his arm, the blankets pooled around him, anything but the two boys beside him that he'd treated so horribly. Quietly, to his hands, he said, "I didn't mean for this to happen."
"You mean you didn't intend for us to find out." Sirius corrected tiredly, a bit snappish.
"What's in my arm?" Regulus asked because he didn't know how to talk about this, and redirection was easier, and he was afraid of so many things all at once that he couldn't sort them enough to think properly. They know something's wrong with him, Pomfrey had to have done diagnostics, she'd probably tell his parents, James was probably disgusted with him, and Sirius was angry and disappointed.
"It's called an IV. It's giving you nutrients because, from the spells we did, it was obvious you haven't been eating." Sirius took a breath, trying to keep the frustration and fear out of his voice, to keep it clinical like Pomfrey's always is. "Or, you have been, but you've been making yourself sick enough that you're malnourished and your body is shutting down. Want to explain why that is? Why you're choosing to do this even though you know I'm right here-"
"Padfoot." James cut off his rambling as the steadiness in his voice dissolved into something more raw and emotional. Sirius closed his mouth, nodding, taking several breaths, still watching Regulus who was now staring at the tubing in his arm and the bag above it with dawning horror.
"No, wait, I can't, you have to take this out. This isn't- I don't know how much-" Regulus stammered, stumbling over the words in the rush to get them out, to make them understand that he couldn't have this. He didn't know the numbers, didn't know how it worked, and couldn't control the intake, or what it would do to his body. For the first time in a long time, Regulus looked right at his brother, grabbing his wrist tightly, pleading, "You have to get Pomfrey to take this out, or you do it, I don't care, just take it out."
When Sirius didn't move, momentarily stunned by Regulus' sudden mood change, Regulus let go of his wrist, instead clawing at the tubing, mumbling anxiously, going green when he pulled at it as nausea crashed over him in waves, but persisting out of desperation to remove it, mind screaming about how long it had been inside him, infesting him with unknown quantities. James grabbed his wrist, forcefully pulling it away from his arm, now covered in scratch marks from where he'd clawed at the tape.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," James took Sirius' place on the bed as Sirius rushed out of the space wordlessly, face unreadable. James grabbed Regulus' hands, holding tightly even when he fought in his panic, "Listen to me, it's helping you, love. Regulus, you need help, and you need to let this happen."
But James couldn't understand, not the swirling chaos of his thoughts, all of which hissed and screamed and blamed him, he couldn't understand the guilt that he'd baptized himself in day and night, bruised knees pressed into cold tile was his repentance, and he couldn't understand that. Regulus couldn't explain it, not the calculator in his head that was cold and logical and made him feel all the worse for it, the rigidity of his destiny, the darkness that lay ahead of him, and the little light he had left. So, Regulus fought him, fought for the little control he needed desperately to regain, despite James' pleas to him to stop, wrestling him even though it hurt.
Sirius returned with a potion in hand and a rare blankness on his face that he only adopted when he was beaten down when he'd been fighting for so long that he could only submit to the darkness a little to release him from the emotions bearing down. He usually adopted it when comforting Regulus, when he was hurting so bad but needed to be the big brother and protector.
Sirius set the potion on the side table, grabbing Regulus' face as he thrashed against James' hold on his arms, bringing them nose to nose, silvery grey eyes ablaze. "Tu te tues juste devant moi, et lui, tu te rends compte ça? Je ne te laisserai pas faire ça. Not to me, not to him, and certainly not to yourself. Do you hear me?"
Regulus breathed hard, but the fight slowly left him as his brother's words settled into his skin, the fierce determination in his face to protect Regulus, to still love him so wildly, even like this, was a balm to some invisible wound Regulus wasn't aware he had. Sirius nodded firmly, then released him to grab the potion he'd set aside.
"Good. Now, drink this." He pressed the vial to Regulus' lips, not waiting for an answer before tipping it into his mouth. Regulus' face screwed up in protest, but as the potion began to take effect, the lines of tension on his face smoothed out, his breathing calming into something reasonable again, steadier. All the fight sapped out of him, Regulus slumped back into the pillows again while Sirius checked the IV to make sure he hadn't messed up anything, waving his wand to heal the scratches he'd made on his skin in his panic.
The potion pushed back against the relentless thoughts in Regulus' mind, covering him in a heavy blanket of comfort that lessened all the oppression in his mind. It made things a bit clearer, no longer as clouded with emotions and panic. He reached out to tangle his fingers with James' unsure of what he could say to make anything between them okay again, but needing the reassurance.
"I'm sorry I'm like this," Is what he said, a poor summary of everything wrong between them, a piss poor apology.
James squeezed his fingers, sighing, "I'm sorry that you believe this is all you are, that you can't understand how dearly we love you."
"It's all I have," Regulus whispered, "I can't- I have so little, and I just needed something to hurt, something to fight against. I know it wouldn't make sense to you, but my future is fixed, everything about my life is decided already, and I just needed a way to- to lash out, I guess."
"Like how I talked back even though I knew I'd get punished," Sirius said thoughtfully, tilting his head like he was looking at the situation from a new angle.
Regulus nodded, "I couldn't do what you did, so I turned it inside, I had to. This is my rebellion."
Sirius' face broke open, emotion filling the cracks. He pushed Regulus' hair out of his face, just for something to do, some way to touch his brother and be assured that at this moment, he was safe, even if he wasn't always, or maybe, most of the time. Sirius tried his best to protect him, but time and time again, Regulus would get hurt anyway. "This isn't all you have, it can't be. You have me, always, and James, and your friends. Your whole life can't be about her, you haven't even left Hogwarts and it's already killing you. Reg- it's- your scans," Sirius choked up, face screwing up as he tried to hold back the torrent of anxiety bombarding him, "You can't keep this up. Your body can't take this, you'll end up admitted to St. Mungo's before you even get out into the world, if it doesn't kill you first, and our parents..."
Regulus shrunk back into the bed, faced with this conversation, even with the blanket of calming potion over his mind was scary, and overwhelming, but even he could see the logic in it, beyond the panic it had caused within him. James' hand tightened on his, face stricken, and it was immediately clear that Sirius hadn't told him this either.
"I just got in over my head and I don't know what to do. It helped at first, and now, I don't know how to make it stop. S’il te plaît, arrête, Sirius. I’m sorry for everything I said before, I was just trying to-"
Sirius shot forward to press another kiss to his forehead, hands trembling where he held Regulus' face, "Push me away, I know, it was stupid. It doesn’t matter now, just come home, come back with me, we'll manage it together. You won't be alone anymore and your future can be yours, whatever you want, petite étoile, please."
"My mum works with a mind healer," James added quietly, playing with Regulus' fingers, "Sirius saw her a few times after he ran away, and it seemed to make a lot of difference."
Sirius nodded vigorously, "It did, you wouldn't believe it, petite étoile, how much talking can help. It helped me see myself so clearly, the lies I believed about myself and the ones we were fed. They could help you heal, help your mind change. You wouldn't just have to survive anymore, you could live. Don't you want to, Reg?"
Regulus glanced between the two of them, weak and trembling, broken open but loved the same, fiercely. He imagined summer nights around a bonfire, raucous laughter and drunken stupidity, christmases filled with warmth, hot cocoa and marshmallows, snowball fights in the yard. He imagined living with his brother again, a redo, in a new home, with parents that wanted them, that he'd never have to beg to be seen and loved by.
"Yes," Regulus found himself saying, "More than anything."