Fresh Blood, Old Wounds

October 31, xxxx – Three years into the Apocalypse, at Ground Zero.

This was what James expected the least.

In this world full of possibility though, he guesses it can happen.

You just need a little bit of faith and a hint of creativity for it to come true.

And, well, too much faith can cause problems. Too much creativity will cause imbalance.

It came down to this.

It's nearing dusk, their group has yet to find shelter among this destroyed land he once stepped on to play in some part of his life. In his memories, somewhere far away and tucked across the back of his exhausted mind, he remembered his mom and dad here, playing with him.

That was back then. Now, he doesn't even know where they are. In this sick, twisted world that turned for the worst.

James can't remember when he last saw his parents. Maybe before the Sorting happened, where all their lives changed. For the best, for the worst? He doesn't know.

He can reminisce the moment it happened.

Blood, blood. Blood. There's blood everywhere. On the ground, on the building walls, on the streets, on the windows. Screams everywhere, all he can see are people scrambling, screaming. Running around to hide anywhere just to escape from this horrid sight he sees.

No matter where James looks, he can see blood. The sky's painted red, it feels as if blood is raining on them, not- not coming from bodies of different people ripped and torn apart by these– these–

“James! Baby! Oh my baby, James…” Euphemia pushes the door open then goes on her knees in front of the where he was hiding in the small shed he found, trembling and wishing for this to stop, and scoops him up in her arms, trying to calm the shaking in his body. The blood-soaked phone on her hand lands somewhere among them.

Her clothes are alarmingly crimson. His dad trails behind her, just a few steps, just the same as his Effie. Fleamont kneels just beside his mum to caress his face and place it on his chest.

Both of them looked unstable. They looked so exhausted. They looked so worried that maybe they won’t find him anywhere – but they’re here. Here with him. All he needs are their gentle hands and soft voices.

He releases a shaky breath, not even knowing he was holding one until his mum releases her hold on him to cradle his cheek and criticize his appearance. His dad continues to caress his cheek.

“What–” He croaks, shaking, panicking. What else was he supposed to do?

“What happened, mum? Are you hurt? Why are you covered in– in blood?” James cries, visibly distraught. Euphemia breaks at the sight of her son like this. So small, so little.

“No. No, no, my baby. We're not hurt. Monty, come–” Effie chokes, holding back tears. Fleamont takes this as a sign to pull his family in his embrace, a moment of serenity, of unstable peace he doesn't know when it'll come back.

James sobs, going slack against their chest. His breath stutters, “Mum mum mum mum mum mum–” He repeats like a mantra. He tries to soak the comfort their arms are providing him. But alas, it doesn't last.

Nothing does.

“Mum, what's happening? There– we were playing, me and Peter, but then the sky darkened and–” He gulps, then he continues, ignoring the screams even when it makes him flinch. Effie squeezes him tighter. “–and then there was like a storm brewing in the sky. There's lighting and the ground started shaking and then the wind turned up and then– and then–”

“Shh, James, calm down. Calm down baby.” Effie croons, combing his strands. James tucks his face on her neck, inhaling the scent of her.

He tries to get his breathing even, but even when he fails, he continues to explain. Explain what he saw, explain the havoc being unsheathed outside of their little shelter.

“There were figures coming out of the storm and then the next thing we knew people were being–” James shuts his eyes, new tears spilling along. “People were being torn apart, mum, the creatures were tearing them apart. Then– then blood was everywhere and Peter screamed and ran before I could follow him.”

The screams intensify. He hiccups, curling more on her hold.

James shakes within his mum’s hold. “I– I couldn't go after Peter– not when– when people are being killed and I just hid here because–”

Effie shakily takes a gulp of air, shutting her eyes and rocks her baby back and forth as her son continues to cry and heave breaths. She knows the horror of what he saw, Effue wishes he didn't. “Oh sweetheart.” Listening to his cries breaks something in her heart; shatters something within her.

“M– Monty.” She whispers, sacrificing a hand to hold it out to her husband, who takes it without a word. He kisses the back of her hand, holds his lips there as a silent anchor, for Effie to lean on.

She tore her gaze from her son to her husband, who all looked at her with pure adoration. Like they weren’t in the middle of this catastrophe, that she was sure would tear her family apart.

“We,” Fleamont turns her hand so he can kiss her palm, nuzzling his head on her fingers. “we can’t stay here, James needs to be somewhere safe. Not–” Effie shuts off her mouth as she feels her lips pressed against his husband's own.

Fleamont smiles as he breaks off, tenderly gazing on her. “I know.” He whispers. “I know, love.”

It took Effie and Monty a couple of minutes to coax James into a somewhat calm state, standing him on shaky knees as they shoot instructions for him to follow.

“Listen James. We need to go back to our house. There’s a bunker there. Your grandfather built it back in his time, you–” Monty pauses. “We’ll be safe there.”

James blinks back the tears, fighting the urge to curl once again. He steadies himself with a deep breath. “O– Okay.” He nods, gripping his mum’s hand. He felt four again, when he was nervous about being introduced to his class when he was starting daycare.

Except he doesn’t start daycare, and the reason for his nervousness is the danger they’re in and James is scared of what the future holds for his family.

It was a bit of a blur as time slowly passed by. He can distinctly hear his parents communicating about something, probably on how they should go across

Fleamont nods. He then looks at his wife for confirmation. They communicate silently.

It always amazed James how they could talk without any words, to convey what they're feeling in just a look. They say it's because they love each other so much that they don't need a word to make it known. Maybe he has someone special out there, who loves him so much that they don't need words to communicate. Someone out there who loves him as much as his parents love each other.

His mum wipes the tear-tracks on his cheeks one last time and grasps it, holding it tight. His dad takes a dusty crowbar from the corner of the shed, swings it a few times and then hands Euphemia a metal that seems to be a part of a shovel.

James could feel the tension rise as his father slowly inches forward to grab the doorknob.

“Hold my hand, James. No matter what happens, don't look back, don't let go, don't stop.” James, James? James only shakes his head. Fleamont takes the front, Euphemia follows, and lastly, James tries to hide in his mum’s back, to make himself little, to make himself disappear. He doesn't feel like a teenager. He feels small, eating to hide

He dreads this. Asks why this is even happening.

But absurd things happen all the time. The scale on this one happens to be just bigger. Huge. Humongous.

“On my count. When I open the door, we run.”

Monty looks at them one last time. Euphemia clenches the revised weapon front of her.

“Three.”

“Mum, I'm scared.” James whispers.

“Two.”

“I know, baby. I know. Mum won't let anything happen to you.” And Euphemia means it. Nothing would get past her and Fleamont to their child.

“One.”

Heart rapidly beating, Effie takes a deep breath and steadies herself, gripping James hand as her husband pulls the doorknob open and they run.

“-mes? James? Go back to me you fucker, stop daydreaming.” James turns to whoever slapped him to glare. He fixed his glasses, the scowl he presented deepened when he saw Sirius cackling with an exasperated looking Remus from behind.

“I hate you, Pads.” He hisses, slamming the back of his gun on Sirius’ chest, rewarding him with a choke and a stuttered exhale. “Fuck.” Sirius gasps. “You could never.” Then, he chucks him a stone.

They're walking through ruins, debris upon debris’ and building upon buildings are stacked upon one another in a catastrophic mess. It's a warzone. Yet, here they are, fooling around like they’ve got nine lives to spend, not having to worry if a death eater is about to pop up or some creature about to eat them alive.

Oh good times.

“Sirius! What the hell!?” James exclaims, kicking Sirius but disappointingly getting away. He scrambles to get a hit, maneuvering around Remus and Pandora – who laughs at his expense – but ultimately fails when Lily yells for them to stop.

“Boys! Quit it! Now’s not the time to be playing!” Lily cries. Marlene snickers, leaning on Dorcas who wrapped an arm around her in return. James clicked his tongue and glared at his best friend. He loves Sirius, really, but there were times that he hated some of the actions he made; didn’t like them the way before – before this.

James doesn’t blame Sirius, he doesn’t know how he changed, how the boy from before was tucked away because he would only serve as a nuisance to this world. No. James bites his words back because Sirius does not deserve to see him break.

It's almost night, the sky has turned purple with only the slightest hint of orange and red spread across the horizon. James’ group finally found a spot to rest after the day.

James ignores the whine that Sirius gives, preferring to peacefully walk on the area Lily had deemed worthy enough to camp. He ignores how each break of laughter clenches the invisible ropes in his chest.

No, he doesn't. Instead, he reaches for his earpiece, feeling the tip of his glasses near his finger, and presses. 

“This is Captain Potter of unit 1978, preparing for camp over.” He says, walking continuously with the group.

There's silence, a white irritating noise, before a voice comes back to reply to his report.

“This is base over, Captain Potter, how far are you from the destination?”

James looks at Dorcas, who's just next to him, and she holds up four delicate fingers. “Four kilometers away, over. Can my unit camp now, over?”

James can't help the click of his tongue at the monotone reply of whoever is handling the landline, clearly it must be good staying at the base to fatten up while they're out here risking their lives.

He can gear the distinct rustling of something from the device, the familiar voice of Frank then echoing over.

“Sorry James, had to do something, guess what, I'm back though.” James smiles at Frank’s voice. He could imagine the cheeky smile displayed there as he adjusted his equipment.

“Had a good time with Alice then?” He snickers when he replies stuttering. “Just joking. Anyways, we're going to camp. About four more kilometers before we reach our destination. It’s almost nightfall, we gotta take cover unless we want demeantors coming up to tear us.”

“James, we're entering the area.”

“Alright, formation everyone. Give us a few to clear out the place Frank.”

“Hm, copy. Let me get your coordinates first then.”

James takes the lead, glancing behind to see the group also prepared. Then he runs inside the building, everyone else follows. It was a complex area, pillars were broken and stones were scattered. There is a lot of furniture broken, glasses shattered and woods broken. There was a tendency that creatures were hiding behind those things.

There are possible areas where monsters are hiding. If they want to see the sunrise tomorrow, they need to eliminate it first.

His eyes swiped the area, taking note if there were any possible dangers near them. There were none. One by one, they all shout a firm Clear! And they settled down, nerves calmed a little. It's just in time for Frank to talk to him without interruptions.

“Got your exact coordinates now. You're at the old Madam Malkin's store at Diagon Alley, just a few blocks away from the center.” James could imagine his fingers running across the keyboard, typing rapidly and humming.

That was why the shop was somehow familia. James remembers the area. What a silly name to name a town, not an alley, not really. It was far from an alley. It was a big town, housing thousands of citizens across its big lands. It was a familiar town. Now, he doesn't recognize the place anymore, once his home.

“We're at the exact place Lily wants us. Can you see it through my glasses?” While all James could see was the dark silhouette of rubbles, Frank was blessed by the enhanced technology of his glasses, which came out with night vision.

“Hm, good, good. Make sure to not leave any traces tomorrow before you leave.” James laughs, as if he will make that mistake again. No.

“Aye aye. Unit 1978 camping for the night, from Ground Zero to base over.”

“Copy that Captain. Go ahead. Stay safe.” That's the last thing he said before the line went still. James glanced at his team, repeating Frank’s words.

I always try.

 “Everyone, gather around. We'll be taking turns to watch tonight. Who’s going with who?”

The group chats, argues and laughs at the process of the selection. He ended with Regulus. He always ends up with Regulus. He doesn't want it any other way, and they take the third shift of the night.

The group scatters around the perimeter, not close, but also not far enough. Just a few feet between each pair of people. James looks at the group, satisfied at the place distribution, before going to his chosen area. Regulus follows his lead.

Both of them take temporary refuge under the rubble, placing his gun first and taking off the excess equipment he doesn't necessarily need, setting them beside him for easy access. James stretches, popping a few tense bones. Regulus does the same, only he doesn't leave his sleek M24 and places it on his lap, sitting next to him with arms crossed.

It was officially dark outside. The air was cold, it was silent. They don't light a fire as it attracts attention they don't want. Any holes are patched up and the entrance was fortified for the night.

James sighed, the tension in his shoulders disappearing. He can see each person's figure, his glasses still on, in the room, and can see Sirius laying on Remus’ lap, yapping Remus’ ear off. He can see The girls huddled together for something and Barty and Evan were near a corner, talking quietly. It's still too early to sleep, but everyone is tired after the day's scouting and activities. They desperately need to rest to replenish their energy.

James feels exhausted, tiredness deeply settled in his bones. He leans back, a knee to his chest and an arm on top. He tries to keep himself a little warmer. Maybe sleep will come easy today.

He scans the room, eyes roaming from one object before getting enough and going to another. James focuses on his hearing sometimes, attempting to know if there are still any potential dangers for them outside this dome. There always are, just hidden, tucked away from seeing eyes, in the dark; in the shadows.

People start to settle in, getting into positions to sleep. The first night guard pair takes charge while everyone else tries to sleep. He glances beside him, taking in Regulus’ tired form. James doesn't start another conversation yet.

Eventually, the first shift ends. The second shift starts when the pair is ushered to rest. The silence stretches further.

James takes another glance at Regulus, still resting. The beautiful weapon he has is still on his lap, protected with a firm grip. James knows he will lose a hand if he tries to take it away.

Regulus looks asleep. Eyes closed, figure slouched, arms and legs crossed, head tilted. James knows he isn't. He knows when Regulus is really sleeping and when he is resting; he's doing the latter. His eyes are closed, expression blank, but there's anticipation behind that mask, like he's expecting anything to happen. His body is all loose, but twisted in angles where when he needs to act, he can spring into action.

He tries to bring a word to life, in hopes of getting Regulus to look at him.

“Hey.” James starts, looking over to his right, where Regulus lays. He opens one eye, peering to where James’ is. He opens both his eyes later, stormy orbs gazing at him. His gaze softens at the edges. The other unravels his arms, leaving them on his sides. Regulus whispers, “Hey.”

They stare at each other. Quiet. Unmoving. Until James plasters on a smile on his lips and proceeds to place his hand on top of Regulus’ pale fingers.

“You okay?” James asks quietly. Regulus nods, intertwining a finger. There's something far away with his look, something he can't place his thoughts on. So he wraps his hand with Regulus, a gentle grip that helps ground him. 

“You can tell me.” He hums, because he really can. James can listen to his thoughts, can listen to him rambling about anything because he loves listening to his voice.

He noticed how he was eerily silent almost throughout the expedition. He won't talk unless others do it first. That's not something that went past James’ eyes.

“It's nothing.” Regulus says quietly. He leans his head on his shoulder. Regulus squeezes his hands and James doesn't push for more after that. James loves Regulus. He loves him and trusts him enough that he knows his partner will tell him when he feels it.

At some point, he starts to doze off from the light chattering of the people around them. He doesn't even realize that Regulus has let their hands go, rummaging through his bag to get something and for him to drape it over himself. Suddenly, it gets a little warmer.

He was drifting, James was sure. His head keeps bobbing up and down, someone steadies the side of it, he lays on someone's shoulder. Hair tickles his cheeks, James only snuggles closer. He can hear voices near him, talking – was he being teased? – but someone growls and the voices back off and then there's only silence. In the silence, he can feel a heartbeat, steady and calm. In the silence, he smells something nice and familiar. In the silence, there's a warm breath fanning on his face.

James laid there for a while, comfortable. He rests there for a moment, trying to savor the little time he has to rest. A little delirious, he feels fingers running through his locks, rubbing his scalp, massaging his hairline. James melts further as someone hums.

Maybe they were there for a while, maybe they were there for a little. James doesn't know, he only felt the person he's leaning shift, then–

“James, it's our turn to watch.” He blinks, trying to peel his eyes open, trying to get his vision right. He groans, rubbing his eyes and sitting straight. His neck doesn't hurt from his position, and a hand is clenched to a blanket.

He blinks again, hazel eyes zooming down to the blanket sprawled across his body. James tilts his head to look at Regulus, who's already looking at him.

“What?” Regulus raised a perfect brow, James remembers their earlier bicker. He blinks again to look at the blanket and his heart melts at the realization. His drowsiness was gone, it seems.

“I– don't. Don't, James.”

“Aw, you really do care about me.” James wiggles his brow, a silly little grin on his face. 

“Really, James? Here, in the middle of the night? Again?” Regulus asks, tired and done with James’ antics. But he loves him. Regulus complains and yaps all the time of how dumb he was acting, but he never tells James to stop. He puts up with him instead.

He may act like a street wild cat, but Regulus with him, he lessens all that tough act out. He loves him for that, Regulus could rarely refuse him now, not with all that time they spent together.

He grins, quickly placing a wet kiss on his cheek. Regulus sputters and glares at him, wiping his cheek with the palm of his hand. “What the hell James?”

“Aw, come on. I know you like it when I surprise you sometimes.”

“Not out here, idiot. My cheeks are dirty!”

“So?” James asks mischievously, laughing at the expense and annoyance of Regulus. He loves teasing him, his responses are the best. It helps that he knows that Regulus wouldn't be that mad at him if he only grazed his buttons. He couldn't actually make him angry at him.

Regulus huffs, rolling his eyes. It reminds James of Sirius. The Black brothers were so similar, from the sharpness of their cheeks, the curls of their hair, to their stormy eyes. Yet at the same time, both of them are so different, from the way they act to the way they mingle.

His attention was stolen back as he catches the design of the blanket. He feels that as if his heart could burst from the endearment this was giving him.

Oh Reggie… James thinks. I'm so lucky to have you.

James carefully folded the cloth, placing them on his lap. He checks his equipment, nodding to himself when it's still exactly where he left.

“I love you.” He murmurs to him. Regulus looks taken aback. He scowls in response – typical Regulus behavior – but he can see the tip of his ears are starting to become red. He keeps the chuckle to himself.

“You're stupid.” Regulus drawls. “I know, it's for you though.” He sighs.

James really was so lucky with him. He can't believe his luck, so utterly grateful he got to be with Regulus.

It was a dream once. To have someone special next to him, someone who completes all his unfinished works. Someone who makes him feel full and alive. James once dreamed that there was a chance he could get to spend time with the person of his dreams. So perfect for him, so made for him.

Once. It was a dream once. Now he has Regulus, completing all the rest of him so perfectly. James loves him wholeheartedly, unconditionally, everlasting.

James reaches the nape of his neck, unhooks a clip, and brings it forward. The locket feels unnecessarily heavy somehow, and it shines just a little from the dimly lit area. The moon was out, gracing the two of them with little sight.

He brings it forward to his partner. Regulus eyes the pendant, curiosity peaking.

“I want you to keep it.” James whispers. As if it was sacred for them and anyone else hearing it is forbidden. The other’s eyes snap up to look at him.

“James, what the hell are you doing?”

He feels his sudden nervousness dissipate. Trust Regulus to really ruin the mood. James shrugs. “Giving you a… gift?”

Regulus rubs a hand over his face. He looks so exasperated, James doesn't even know what he did this time to make him feel that.

“You can't give this as a gift.”

“Yes, I can.” James rolls his eyes. Regulus narrows his. “You can't.”

The Potter in him huffs. “It's mine. I can do whatever I want with it. So I'm giving it to you.”

I’m giving a part of myself to you. It goes unsaid. So that even when I'm not beside you, I know a part of me will.

“Don't you like it?” He switched instead, intensely looking at his eyes. Regulus tenses at the contact.

“I– No.” He mumbles, petulant. Regulus keeps eye contact for a few seconds before looking at the piece of jewelry. Regulus keeps his steady gaze on the locket.

“Okay,” James responds, then smiles. He won't pursue it if Regulus doesn't like it. But he hopes he will accept. “you can keep it if you want.” Carefully, he grabs Regulus’ hand, folds his fingers over the locket, grasping Regulus’ hands between two of his own.

Regulus peers up at him, asks after a few moments of silent gazing. “You're letting me keep it?” He asks quietly.

Of course I am silly. Maybe he didn't exactly get what he said before but he can repeat it. Slowly this time.

“Would you like to keep it?” He asks softly, leaning in to kiss Regulus's forehead. He leans back, gazing tenderly at James. He keeps his hands there, caressing his cheeks lovingly.

“It's special to you, though.” He says quietly. James snorts, letting his hand fall. He leans back on the pillar. His neck feels bare. But it's nice, he likes the lightness. It's like the heaviness he carried was reduced. It gives him a sense of freedom.

“And I'm giving it to you.” He repeats as a matter of fact. He doesn't cower when Regulus stares harshly, determination pouring out of him. James doesn't break his resolve because he knows he will win this.

Surely, Regulus backs down with a sigh, knowing he can't win this time around, he knows as he whispers “Bullheaded stubbornness, Potter.” James prefers it to be bold. But it works. He's stubborn too. It's in his genes, he carries it in his blood.

Regulus shifts the gun on his left, laying it beside him.

Regulus was still hesitant. He tries to keep it away with a kiss. James noticed how his grip on his locket – “Yours, love. Yours.” – tightened and he softened, knowing that Regulus would keep the only precious thing James has from his parents safe, keeping it close to him.

“Yes.” He finally whispered, answering his previous question. “I would love to, James.” And then James feels something unwound around his chest when he hears him say that, feels that he can breathe a little more now. A smile makes it to his face, settling in. James would absolutely do anything his beloved asked him to with that smile. Regulus looks so much younger like this, so much comfortable, so much innocent.

“Thank you, James.”

Something about it felt home somehow. How it feels a little nostalgic.

The way Regulus says it makes something bloom in his chest, newfound affection pouring out of him. It reminded James of his mother’s cooking and his father’s booming laughter, so familiar, yet so distant to him.

Regulus feels like home.

James already knows he feels like home. Now, it only served to strengthen his belief that Regulus doesn’t feel like home, he is home.

Their nightwatch came to an end when Dorcas stirred awake to start their own. But Regulus doesn't sleep, can't sleep. Even when James insists he does. He's supposed to be sleeping, he reckons. Instead, Regulus is up and awake, playing with the locket James had kindly besotted upon him.

He glances at James, who's talking to a surprisingly awake Lily. They both chatted about medicine, something his ears picked up. His partner had left to give him a bit of space, which he was thankful for, and was going to annoy Sirius awake when Lily snatched him. He's so energized even with only an hour of sleep, even Regulus couldn't do that.

The locket in his hands feels heavy. It feels foreign to Regulus, with very intricate designs and complex details. Absent-mindedly, he runs his fingers through the silver chain, tracing the loops and twirls with the tip of his fingers. Regulus’ point of direction is still on James, who's still chirping quietly now with Lily. Sirius stirred beside them.

The blankness in his mind should render him nervous. The quietness always serves as a warning that he could lose control again. Serves as the calm before the storm.

Now though, it's calming. Regulus thanks he could get used to this, the peace his mind decided to give him suddenly.

He looks down, eyes burning on the locket. Regulus had seen glimpses of this precious item on James, hanging around his neck, almost hidden in view. He knows the story behind it, knows how much it means to James Potter. Enough to know that he doesn't take it off, the silver jewelry making permanent home on his collarbone.

It surprised him that James was even willing to take it off, much less give it away, to him of all fucking people.

Regulus could feel his heart swell at that. Pounding. Beating. Almost like it was begging to be let out of his chest with how fast it was beating against it. He was very reluctant to accept the piece of jewelry, even recoiling a bit when James pressed it in his hands.

But how could he not accept it when James looked at him with so much gentleness, with so much care, with so much trust that he physically aches at the thought of not accepting the damn thing James was fucking giving him.

Idiot. He mumbles, annoyed, but endeared, tenderly looking at the locket. It was beautiful. Regulus couldn't remember the last time he saw such a piece of art. James had worn it with so much adoration, treated it like a treasure. Regulus feels obliged to wear it with the same affection.

Still, he can't believe that James had blessed him with the antique heirloom. Can't believe James loves him so much that he decided to give him the only prized possession he has.

His eyes continued to stare down. Even so, he could hear the moment Lily and James huffed down to quietness, then something shifted, and Regulus could see from the corner of his eyes that James was walking towards him.

The moment James sat down next to him, he mutters up a conversation. “Hey.” Regulus blankly stares at him. James fidgets a bit. “Do you like it?” He tries again.

Now it's Regulus’ turn to snort. Of course, trust him to be completely oblivious. He shakes his head, swiping a thumb over the center. “It's fine.” His heart beats a little faster than what he would like, but he doesn't show much of a surprise.

He turned his gaze up to look at James, but he was already looking at him. Regulus caught a glimpse of something unknown, yet before he can think of whatever that is, it fades as quickly as it shows, replaced by an expression more pleasant. His eyes trailed over to James’ hazel one and continued to gaze at each other, neither breaking eye contact and backing down.

It was placid between them. Regulus couldn't clearly hear any noise that the world was making. Regulus thinks of only one thing though.

I love you. His mind whispers suddenly. Regulus could never gain the courage to say it out loud.

Their staring reminds Regulus of the annoying melodramas his brother used to watch and Regulus hates every single one of those. He always thought how ridiculous it was to communicate with anyone with just a look. His brother used to complain that No it's not! and he would counter how it's Impossible and stupid.

Now though, now, he rethinks. Reconsiders. That it's not all made-up and cheesy and stupid. Maybe it was really possible. Possibly in a way that makes Regulus’ heart beat fast and mind to go blank. Because James makes him feel unrealistically good and light and just staring at him makes feel uncharacteristically lively.

Maybe, with just a look, they can really whisper words of confessions. Share looks of love only they could understand, make feelings known without ever needing the ability to speak.

His heart flutters as James leans in for a quick kiss.

I love you. Regulus repeats.

I love you so much, James. I love you deeply, sincerely, profoundly. And hopefully, with these, it's enough for the two of them. Enough for James to feel his emotions, enough for James to know Regulus loves him with all his being.

The last shift ends exactly at six o’clock. As captain – and still a marauder – James personally feels that he should do the honors of waking them up via unnecessary methods. Groans, yawns and moans of dissatisfaction were heard, a grumble of “It's too fucking early.” and a whine of “James what the hell?!” Complaints all echoes around – except for Sirius and Remus, who were the last night guards. James would too if he was woken at shit time to work, luckily, he doesn't need to sleep that much now.

“So, what's the agenda now?” Sirius asks. They were formed in a loose circle, all having stretched and taken food. They were only resting before they came up again to hike their way to their destination, discussing a plan while doing so.

“Well,” Lily starts. “Dorcas said it's only four more kilometers before we reach the plaza. If we're fast enough we can get there before afternoon.” Everybody nods. That's a good start. Even Regulus seems to hum with content. Nobody is really feeling good to be here.

Remus picks up the map from his bag and spreads it out in the middle, where everybody can see. “I reckon it'll take at least two hours to pluck out what we need there. It's a large area, then another hour to unlock the shit.” This thing is exhausting, really. It's a pain in the ass, a good thing is Remus is here to make it a bit easier. 

“Prongs, this is where we are right?” James nods. Lily pulls a marker from a pouch of her bag and marks it. “And here,” Remus directs Lily to mark up the plaza. “is where we need to go. Is there anything we need to avoid? Alleys, stores, shops, houses?”

Everyone placed their own ideas and thoughts regarding that. They discussed the best possible route they could possibly take and everyone agreed that Dorcas’ plan seems to be the best source of action.

“Alright. That's done. Everyone just pack all the things you need – Sirius leave that mirror alone–” James sighs at his friend’s actions. “and throw away those you don't, remember to not leave any traces and recheck all your equipment before we proceed. We leave in five minutes.”

Everyone chatted slowly, a murmur to his ears. James checked his precious Barrett .50 on his back, securely strapped on newly loaded with bullets enhanced with the vials they have. He checks his M21 next, both are in a good and nice condition, never needing to be ruined more than twice for the last thirty-six hours.

James checks his watch and looks up to the group, ready and prepared. James might be concerned about their departure, but with these people on his back, he supposes that he won't need to feel anything other than be a little nervous.

“Ready?” He asks, just to be sure. He receives eye rolls and cheeky grins. Sirius mocks a salute for him, James loves the moron. “Aye, captain!”

James risks a glance at Regulus, who only sends him a small smile, a tiny quirk of his lips upwards and that reassures James that maybe this expedition will continue to go well.

He feels a grin of his own forming.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go then–”

The expedition did not go well. It turned for the worse. With all the shit James has been through, that's a lot to say.

They were leaving their cocoon when suddenly, abruptly, a fucking death eater marches up at the entrance of their little hotel to throw an explosive at them, following his actions was releasing horrendous chimeras once they scattered to avoid the tossed explosive. They manage to get two of them – Lily! – and he's not happy when he sees her leg torned up and limping around Remus. And him? Oh just a bite from the chimera, nothing he could die from.

And guess what? Here they are, fighting for their lives as the sun starts to rise. It's a nice way to start the day, James thinks drily. James doesn't even know how they managed to get so close to them without alerting their monitor.

“Go! go, go, go! They're catching up!” Sirius yells, firing his gun a few rounds before tossing a grenade in their direction. Explosion blooms, sending debris everywhere and recoiling the unit back by meters. Screams and gurgles resonate in the air, James can't bring to accept the fact that there were children in there, there are children in there. Hunting them down, trying to kill their group because they were ordered to.

They don't even know what they're fighting for.

Instead, they're getting killed as sacrifices for the Dark Lord's fucking amusement.

The enemy fires back, launching attacks after attacks that they can't catch even a whiff of breath. Remus scoops up Lily when he sees her leg acting up to cause her pain, thus making it hard to move.

James tried contacting the base, but seemingly, it's dead silent behind the lines. Not even one was picking up their call.

He swears a litany of curses as no one spoke again when he tried. Good timing. Really.

 The wound on his arm bleeds out, sending rivets of blood on the ground. James reaps out a stash of cloth and haphazardly covers it with the cloth.

They keep running, dodging and scrambling around destroyed concrete and fallen buildings as death eaters scream and cry in glee. One managed to almost snatch Howling when he stumbled.

Sly surges forward with hands full of explosives of varying kinds, where he finds that James doesn't know. They certainly only packed a few, not that many. Maybe when he was rounding the weaponry before going in. “I’ll plant these ahead, can two of you keep me safe until then?” James shakes his head and commands two of the group to follow after Evan while the rest takes up the mantle of slowing the enemies down. It's not like they're going down, they fucking regenerate their numbers everytime they throw grenades and fire magazine of bullets at them.

When James sees nothing was working on hindering them, he decides that it's time to change plans.

He fires the last of his bullets and drops it on his chest, swinging it back to grab his Barett – It's such a nice piece – and snaps his head to Sirius. “Pads, we need to gain distance on them. Lily is not in a good condition for close quarter combat.” James wonders how his glasses are still not broken. Techy things apparently.

Sirius nods, firing his gun one last time and tossing his semi-automatic rifle aside when it ran out of bullets to grab his bolt-action gun, checking to see if he loaded it well. “Copy that, we'll be at the frontline. You and Thirteen should take the rear. The rest are in the middle.”

“Sounds good.” James dodges the green flare coming up, slides down to the concrete to fit through a gap and twists his body around to shoot through the gap he went, straight for the enemy's head. Something in him twists when he sees the body fall, eyes staring at him.

“We’ll be taking last night’s grouping. Spitfire, upfront with Padfoot. Moony, back with the other, you'll be switching. All of us will move in pairs, one of you stick around Lily. Stay close, act fast. Everyone move.” James orders, voice hardened. The group assembled according to the order.

Instinctively, James goes to Regulus, daring a glance on him only to find his own pair of eyes already laid on him. James tries a smile, it only comes out as an awkward grimace. He doesn't even try to be cheery, knows how fucked up the situation is for them, the worst possible outcome they were avoiding is now unfolding, and they're at the center of it.

The group runs and runs and runs. Nevertheless, creatures and death eaters just come and come and come. They kill, they come. They never seem to end the cycle of coming back to life. They have been running for god knows how long, no building seems to provide them the thought of a shelter. Their body aches.

Regulus clenched the gun in his hand, switching from his sniper to his good old M5 and raining a round of bullets, James turned his back against him and did the same on his left. They worked beautifully, practiced and prepared. Like they've always done.

James gambles a glance to Regulus and oh. He has no right to be that gorgeous when they're just a step away from knocking on death’s door.

Suddenly, his earpiece rings to life. The uncomfortable noise of the device hurt his ear.

“Captain. Captain Prongs? Can you hear me? This is Sly, I have successfully planted the landmines. Me, Howling and Cottontail are hiding right now. Sending you the coordinates. Follow the directions so you can hide with us.”

His eyeglasses flashes him the bird's view of the area. Where they're on has few white spots that are rapidly moving and a few inches above was also three white dots in stationary. Red was painted below those three, scattered across and James knows it's the landmines.

“Thank you, Sly.”

“Run along Captain, we don't have time. Cottontail called the base over, there will be a hovercraft provided for us to escape.”

It doesn't cool down James’ nerves, but it calms his thundering heart, knowing there will be escape from this.

“Everyone, change course! We're heading south!” He barks. Remus heaves up Lily and they all turn at an alley. James pulls one last trigger before turning around to run along.

“Almost there, just a few more meters.” Sly's voice came. James could estimate that it was fifty more meters until they came around.

“When you're near Flourish and Blotts you need to swerve to your left and in that small corridor you will see, that way you guys won't be caught up.”

James sees what he's talking about, a very small place for them to squeeze themselves in as they rush to safety. It's a risk, but what other option do they have?

“When you see an alley beside Flourish, go straight for it! Sly and the others are there!”

There was a sudden booming of explosions, an explosion so loud his ears had hurt, filling his mind with white noise.

James checks behind, sees a building breaking on its base before falling. He panics, it's going for them, it's going to collapse on them. If they can't run for the shop, there's no way they'll be making it.

“Run!” He screams.

And they do. He urges them faster, quicker. Running for their lives. He gives up trying to send them back, focuses on moving his feet quicker instead.

It's a risk. He doesn't even know if they'll make it. The building was already casting a shadow at them. In just a few seconds, it'll fall in two ways; either with them on the other side or them crushed beneath.

Still, it was a risk he was willing to take.

They were heaving, practically gasping for air. James’ breaths came out as gasps, desperately trying to suck oxygen in. They were hiding at a corner of a shop, the broken structure serving as cape to hide them temporarily.

Regulus was stuck between wanting to curse out and trying to calm down James. He was trying very hard not to burst. Seeing James in pain sends him a pang of agony.

The building fell between them, not on, Regulus was relieved by that, and then they were divided, unequally divided. Sirius and the others had managed to claw through but him and James didn't have the same luck. They didn't have enough time to run to the other side, thus forcing them to skid to a stop and scrambling to find a place where they could teleport to somewhere safer.

“James, James breath. Breath with me darlin’. Come on, I know you can do it.” Regulus murmurs, rubbing his palm on the back of James. “Breath, baby.” He gently takes a hand and holds. James seems to calm down, eyes darting everywhere. A few moments pass and he hears James take a deep breath.

“Thank you, Regulus.” He sniffs. Regulus responds with the caressing of his hair.

There was a pregnant pause for a moment, the laughs of the death eaters looking for them bounces of their ears. Regulus could see clogs turning around in his head.

James opens his mouth, then closes it again, hesitant. Regulus coaxes him to speak his thoughts out.

“Evan called base. I– I think it's about fifteen minutes before they get here.” James whispers, rubbing a hand over his eyes, tilting his glasses upwards.

“That's good.” He says. James looks up at him sharply. “It's not, Reg. We're almost a kilometer away!”

Oh. Well, that's not good then. James was the one blessed with high-tech glasses, not him, he thinks bitterly. He can't exactly pinpoint where they are with crazy people hunting them down.

“How about portkeys?” He tries not to aggravate James further. Regulus tried to speak softly, just like how James was with him then. It doesn't come out like what it should have been though.

He shakes his head. “We don't know where it will take us, Regulus. We could end up near them or farther away. It's a wildcard.”

Regulus thinks, shit, it's getting worse and worse. The unit can make it, but them? They might not even make it near. They were low on ammo, grenades were out of option, and they're a kilometer away from escape. Great. His ability to think coherently seems to be completely gone.

“Well, we certainly need something if we intend to get out of here alive. Death eaters are figuring out where we are, it's only a matter of time when.” He grits out.

James bit his chapped lips, unsure. Regulus resists the urge to kiss those wet.

“I've got a plan though.”

“You do?”

“Reggie – Reg, look. Here's what we're gonna do.” James wasn't happy. And Regulus hates it when he isn't. He's supposed to be bubbly, it's what he does. Yet, here they are. He can't read James. His expression is just blank. He hates not knowing what James is thinking, what he's feeling at the moment. It makes Regulus uneasy and disturbed. Something about James’ tone makes him uncomfortable.

When James explained what the plan was, Regulus could only stare at horror at what he was implying. He can't bear to finish what he was explaining, can't even believe it in the first place. How could he propose such a thing?

“I will not, James.” Regulus says firmly, although there's a waver on the end. “You– you possibly cannot be asking me to do it.” Suddenly his world seems to be spinning wildly.

James frowns.

“Love I know you can–”

“Fuck off James! You know I couldn't–” Regulus growls.

“You can.” James says softly, steady. Like he expects him to do it.

“Well I fucking won't! How do you expect me to do that?!”

James only smiles. “Because I know you. I know you can, I know you could.” And if it weren't for what they're in, Regulus could melt at how he said that.

A beeping noise alerts both of them, but they ignore it in favor of staring. Death eaters tracked where they were. Time is ticking. Beneath them, the screen of the device lights up a blooming red painting the time was displayed. 18:00, 17:59, 17:58, 17:57–

Regulus doesn't pay it any attention, doesn't care if it causes more destruction. All he could focus on is the man in front of him. James.

Maybe something’s stuck on the back of his throat, and it clogs his pipeline. How could James say that when, when what he’s asking for is something he will not do?

Regulus shakes his head. The ground beneath them rumbles as the explosions become larger and more dangerously close to them. He leaned close to James, tucking his head in the crook of his neck; careful, tense.

“I can't James.” He croaks, voice a little hoarse at the force he used. “I won't leave you, please.” He whispers, already so close to crying. He feels exhausted. Everyday is exhausting. Living is exhausting, yet here he is, fighting to survive just because he loves someone so much, and that someone is James.

Regulus should have died way back before the world had changed. Maybe drowned in the lake of their property, maybe he should have died from lack of sleep. He should have been inside a coffin, six feet under the ground.

He should have died long ago, but he's here. Standing. Breathing. Living. All because of James.

All for James.

How is he supposed to live if the reason why he keeps going in this world is gone?

How can he face the world without the hand that grounds him?

Regulus spent more than half of his life helplessly alone. Now that he's got James, he can't let it go. Not now, not ever.

If it meant hurting him, he would do it. Regulus would burn the world if James asked him, but he would never let James burn himself along it.

James kisses his forehead, lips still soft and touch still caring. Regulus will be damned if he ever lets this fade away. “I know, love.” And fuck, if that didn’t knock the breath out of Regulus. He doesn't know why James is doing this.

There's silence between them, tense and alarmingly uncomfortable.

16:11, 16:10, 16:09–

A hand caresses Regulus’ cheek, then turns him so he can face piercing hazel eyes that he came to love. “I need you to. Will you do it for me?”

Regulus detaches himself from his side and looks at him, mouth agape. Regulus looks at him fiercely, not believing what he was hearing.

“James.”

“Reggie, please.”

Regulus puts a trembling hand over his face, tilting his head up as he lets out a humorless chuckle. His face pinches.

“No.” Regulus spats. He can't. For fucks sake he can't.

“Regulus, why–”

“Because I can't! I fucking can't James! Do you know how hard that must be for me?!” Regulus yells. He feels his throat clogging up and his chest feels heavy. All the air seems to be gone and suddenly his lungs tighten and he heaves a choke. Desperation builds up within him because why, why oh why can't his sun just let his stubbornness aside.

James still looks angry, but Regulus could see the hurt, the pain, the fear in his eyes, the love. He could see just how much James loves him and that he's willing to sacrifice himself to have him escape. He can see how intense his emotions are, how his eyes are shining with determination and Regulus knows that deep inside of him, James wouldn't take any other answer than what he gave himself.

In all of the times Regulus could have fallen for him more, it just had to be now. It feels pathetic, of all times, when the odds are all against them. When they're beat up; injured. When one is on the verge of collapsing and the other littered with wounds. All the chances that he should have taken to gaze through those eyes, it just had to be now.

Because it just had to be now.

Now. Now, the time should be now, and Regulus couldn't think of any other moment where he thinks is the perfect opportunity for him to feel this way, to deepen his feelings for James, the way he feels with him. The way it made him feel light, the way it made him feel airy, the way it made him float – made him high, annoyed, insecure, scared, calm, angry.

The way it made him feel safe and grounded.

And Regulus thinks it was the most stupid feeling he knows.

Safe shouldn't make him calm. Safe shouldn't make him happy, safe shouldn't even be safe because there is no safe for Regulus. No. Not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow. Because Regulus already knows that safety doesn't make him protected.

Yet, with James, it feels that it can.

It can make him safe, it can make him happy, he can make him feel loved. And Regulus?

Regulus doesn't know much about love until he meets James.

Regulus doesn't know that love can be this overwhelming, this intense, this gut-wrenching, throat-crying up and down emotion. This emotion that revolted Regulus' world, just because James doesn't one bit think about self-preservation and keeps getting the urge to help everyone. Regulus doesn't know much about love, until James Potter.

16:01, 16:00, 15:59–

Idly, Regulus thinks this is what love must feel like. In his own understanding, in his own words, this is what love is like. Love is the incoherent feeling of tenderness, the art of selfishness, the waves of sacrifice. Love is the feeling of fullness, the feeling that somebody has completed an unnoticeable hole in his being. Love is the feeling of fulfillment, the urge to be possessive, the overwhelming empathy you have for your partner.

He felt it all for James. And– and Regulus? Regulus doesn't know what to make of that. But then, how can he continue to learn when James will leave him alone?

He fought the urge to cry. Felt his core shake, his mind in shambles and Regulus tries to grasp what little sanity he has left.

“Reg, we don't have time. Every second counts and within fifteen minutes death eaters will come flying here to kill us.” James hissed, although he looks like he's about to puke, about to cry. Regulus could see the exact moment tears swell up within his eyes just like how he feels his own pair are starting to water.

His mother would be so angry with how vulnerable he presents himself now.

“You need to come with me then.” Regulus exhales. He tries to cover the shaking of his hands when he places them with James. He tries to stand, wobbling even when a hand stretches to help him. Regulus supports his waist, careful not to touch the wound and slings an arm around his neck.

“No, I can't. They're going to be here and I need you to go as far away as possible here or else the plan's not going to work.”

Regulus blood boils. He discards the thought of helping him and instead slams him on the wall, not caring if it takes the breath away from James. His anger skyrockets, how could James tell him what to do?

“There is no fucking plan if I don't get to agree to it!”

James chokes in his breath, Regulus can feel his heart breaking along with James’ as he watches him clearly struggle with himself, deep and uneven breath forcing itself out of James mouth and chapped lips. “Reg, please, please Reggie, you need to go now o–or I can't save you.” James whimpers, Regulus thinks it's not just the bleeding arm or the wound on his chest.

That's the exact moment Regulus' eyes widened in horror. He didn't see the shit. Not far away. Now that he was close in proximity, he could see the blood dripping from the makeshift bandage and the blood pouring out of the wound on James’ chest.

“James. Fuck. No you stubborn fuck you need to get out of here, you're injured! When the hell did you get it?!" If he doesn't die in this suicide mission, blood loss will take him.

Panic swells up quickly within him. Regulus snatches his arm away from him, without the only support James has, he slides down, coughing heavily. Regulus frantically searches for their medicine kit, scrambling to find the damn box until a bloody, thin hand underneath the worn-out fingerless glove reaches out to grasp his arm. "Don't." He groans. And, Regulus feels that he might just die.

Fuck Potter and his stubbornness. Fleamont Potter’s genes and Euphemia’s are taking their roles seriously.

“Where did you get that?”

“Reggie please–”

“I don't fucking need to be saved, James.” Regulus curses, pulling a fresh roll of bandage. He applies medicine on James’ wound. Shit, it looks deep. James sighs shakily.

“Don't, Reggie, please. Just– just go. Run, Regulus.” A shot of pain rips a muffled scream out of James and he wishes he could chuck it out of him to transfer it to himself instead. It feels more painful to watch him go through the pain than be the one in pain. Regulus can't breathe properly, he can't, not when he's watching the love of his life struggle in the fight to be alive.

“They–" James chokes. He's crying, he thinks. He's sobbing, there's more than two lines of tears streaming down his dirty face and tangled hair. The hold he has on his arm loosens significantly.

Regulus felt tears clouding up his vision but wiped it away. He's starting to break. And it's with James of all people.

Of course it's James.

It's always James. James Potter.

Varsity player, campus heartthrob, school's darling, Sirius' best friend, troublemaker, people pleaser, reckless idiot, his nemesis, his enemy.

His partner; his lover.

“Regulus, look at me.”

James always managed to tear down the walls he built around himself, getting in the fortress he was surrounded by. Regulus yearns to know how he does that so delicately, so careful during the process of it.

“You can do it. I know you can.”

Something wet traced down Regulus’ cheeks, and he realized that oh, it's tears, really. Not the tears that came out of him when he was angry, when he was frustrated. Not the tears that became present because he was emotional. Not the tears that came out of him sometime because he was happy.

No, it's tears. Tears of sadness he thought he wouldn't come across again when Sirius left. The tears his eyes made when he was hurt by something, someone, and instead of the betrayal he felt after like when Sirius left before, all Regulus felt is the clenching and aching of his heart.

Because this is James. His sweet, funny, handsome James. His James, who he loves with more than what he can explain.

Don't make me do it. Regulus thinks. Don't make me do it, please. Don't make me, James.

There's statistics in both their earsets, ringing them both. “–do you copy? Black and Potter do you both copy? Black and Potter, do you both copy?”

James peers at him but answers. “Copy, we hear you.”

“Where are you two now?”

Hope blossoms in Regulus’ chest. Maybe they won't have to do it after all.

“I– estimated at least a kilometer away from the unit.” James peaks at the window sill, covering down after. “East of Flourish and Blotts. We used a portkey to get away from the death eaters.”

“I see now, sending you the exact location.” 

They were at the Apothecary. No wonder it was full of the remains of weird things.

“Where are the others?”

“Taking shelter. The hovercraft and back-up Sly had requested will land in the park across your group in twelve minutes.”

“I–”

“Captain, you two need to get there as fast as possible. The area is rapidly being filled with death eaters and the monsters, the base cannot afford to send the hovercraft for you.”

James snaps his mouth shut, gritting his teeth as his jaw clenches, eyes hardening. He shifts his look to Regulus, who's frowning at him.

“We can't. I’m injured, ammo's low, we have one grenade, a flare and one last portkey. You're basically telling us to get ourselves killed.”

“There's no other option, Potter.” Oh fuck Lestrange. He bets the man is grinning in glee right now that he sees a chance that they could die.

“Look, we can't send another team for you. I don't know what's happening but our monitors are shutting down and we're losing power here. The other units that were also deployed are in the same situation as you. We don't have enough manpower now. It's either you two bite the bait or you get killed or captured. Two options really, Potter. Risk it or lose the chance.”

James groans in frustration. Regulus feels the hope fade away as quickly as it came.

13:08, 13:07, 13:06–

“Fine. We're pushing it. Other than the fucking obvious what other plan do you have for us?”

“Use the portkey–”

“Fucking hell what’s up with people favoring portkeys?! It has no sense of direction! We can literally transport to the center!”

“Shut up Potter. As I was saying, portkeys can transport you where you can if the distance and vision is clear enough. Like apparition.”

“And why am I only knowing this now?” He hisses. James agrees, Lestrange ignores him.

“You're a kilometer away, right? I need you to at least cross half of it if you want any chance of the transport working. Start moving now or else you're going to push it.”

“Fine. Give me fifteen seconds.” James turns off the earpiece to slam him into a heated kiss, cupping his cheeks and combing his hair.

“Lestrange is right, if we want any chance of getting out alive, we start now.” James broke the kiss, gasping out for him. Regulus asks. “You won't do it?”

James gives him a smile. There's a thought hidden there, something Regulus doesn't know and he hates not knowing things. 

“We move now, Regulus. Check your gun, how many magazines do you have left?” Regulus’ lips twitch.

“Four.”

“Good, I have three. Grenades?”

“One.”

“Last one for me too. Here, hold this for me.” Regulus eyes the portkey with doubt, hands hovering over the object. James roles his eyes. “It won't bite.” “I don't care if it bites. What's the word?”

James looks thoughtful for a moment, reloading his gun. Just because he was feeling a little better he doesn't have to be this cheeky. Idiot. “Kerfuffle?”

11:46, 11:45, 11:44–

Regulus stares for a second while James splutters. “Whatever! Come on. Let's go. Lestrange, we're moving.”

“Move fast.”

Kerfuffle.

Such a fitting thing.

2:18, 2:17, 2:16–

The aircraft was hovering over the ground, the air dancing around them, sending great winds that pushed their bodies backwards. The gate opened, revealing four faces they barely recognized meeting at the base; it was barely one team. Sirius frowns. What's happening?

They ran down, diving to cover the sides as creatures came in screeching, firing bullets at them. Sirius turns back to look over the group, panic rising as he sees that James and Regulus still haven't returned. 

“Lestrange where the fuck are my brothers?!” He hisses at his earpiece, yelling over to tell the group to run faster to the hovercraft. A few of them were injured when the building fell; one had a broken leg, another a twisted arm, somebody had wood sticking out of their thigh and Lily’s injuries were still untreated.

“They're moving, Black.” It's not enough to calm him.

“Go! Go go go!” Sirius kept swinging his arm up, practically a sign for the team that this is their only way to escape. The older Black brother started counting the moment Remus and Lily had entered the gate.

One, two.

Another runs at the entrance, hoping helplessly. Three.

The others come in consecutively in various forms. Four, five, six–

Sirius shoots a little creature creeping up next to the man behind him and the last one of the unit enters. Sirius glances behind to see that the medical team had started treating the injured. Sirius looks across the distance but still, no sign of James or Regulus.

“Lestrange, where. are. they?” Sirius was bouncing on his heels. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“In two minutes, fucking stay still.”

“Sir! Death eaters are coming at three o'clock!”

“Death eaters at nine and seven o'clock!”

Sirius could see them coming and they were fast.

“Lieutenant Black! We can't hold for long! We need to get out now!”

Sirius bit his lips hard, the copper taste of blood making his throat dry. He pulled the trigger of his gun when one disgusting creature barreled at him.

“A minute longer! Lestrange when are they getting here?!”

“Patience.”

“Lieutenant!”

Sirius feels a presence next to him. He turns his head to find Remus shooting forward. Remus snaps another magazine in place and smirks to him.

“We can do a minute.” The uninjured surrounded them, a team effort to buy time for their comrades.

“They should be here by now, look out for them.”

Sirius frowns, blurring out the frantic voices and scans the perimeter. A good fifty meters away from them, two silhouettes come out, Sirius gets his breath stolen as relief clouds the better of him.

“James! Regulus!”

Sirius runs.

James and Regulus somehow managed to make it through with just grazes and broken knees before Lestrange instructed them to use the portkey. The process was risky, a death eater had almost got them if Regulus hadn't shouted a second just before. Then, here they are, relieved that they might go home alive.

The smell of death lingers on the air they're breathing on. Regulus has an arm thrown around James, James has one around him too, both injured, both unstable, both on the verge of collapsing. Fate has a twisted way of making them match. 

The aircraft’s propellers help them track it down, already seeing its figure through the building. Finally, finally. 

They pass through the open, then that's when everything promptly goes chaotic.

It happened abruptly. Their enemies seem to get smarter, waiting for the perfect opportunity to crash down on them. The ambush was perfect. Regulus feels a tiny bit of jealousy on how it was executed. His own unit could never do it. And resentment so strong it threatens to burst out.

The rogue perfectly slashed his chest. Regulus was too late to dodge it, too exhausted and not expecting the attack. James took hits too, a hammer near the center of his chest, slammed so hard he heard a crack upon impact. Then another cuts through deeply on his left arm. Both of them hit the ground, Sirius’ voice was only fairly heard.

Side by side, they lay there. A pool of blood spreads across them. The fires of guns seem to tune down a bit and Regulus still has his eyes with James.

Regulus tried to crawl towards him, they were only a meter away. He stretches right arm, but a foot slams on it, making him yowl in pain.

The death eater grins, licking the dagger that was dripping with blood, the one used on James.

Anger ripples through him, sending him on a blast of fury that urges him to slam his face hard on the ground. To break his bones and skin him alive. He can't though. He can't do anything when he's lying on the ground bleeding out.

“Well, look who we have here?” He grins, a manic gleam in his eyes present. “Little Black and Potter? Oh the lord will be pleased! I just need to take you to him and he'll reward me plenty!” The joy their attackers have makes Regulus gag in disgust.

“You won't.” Regulus coughs. The death eater looking at him just struts happily to James. The pain on his arm was gone, but a foot slams on his head instead, intensifying the pain he was feeling. Fuck, he can't move.

The man pulled James by his hair, using it to twist him around. James grunts, baring his teeth. “My lord will be especially happy with you. Look at this face, such beauty.” He coos, pouting his lips and tracing the dagger around James’ jaw. 

“Hey! Motherfuckers! Look here!”

Then they all look at the source, only to find Sirius madly holding two AK47s to shoot at them.

One whistled slowly. “Look at him, he looks stupid.” Regulus hopes that his brother only looks stupid, not actually stupid.

When Sirius fires, Regulus confirms he actually is stupid.

“We'll come back for you pretty boy. Just you wait.” The one holding James lets him go before they disappear in a black mist.

Sirius and Remus skidded to a stop at them, assessing their wounds.

0:45, 0:44, 0:43

“Come on, come on, just a little more.” Sirius repeats, having tossed the guns away, they pull them up, not caring – oh they care alright – about the wounds gushing out blood and sprints to the aircraft.

Remus took James while Sirius held him.

“Come on, just a little more. We can go home now.” They both limped, trying to run faster.

James took another step forward, only froze when he felt something click.

No. James shakes. Oh, no.

Regulus cries as he watches James get further and further away, writhing and thrashing in Sirius' hold. Kicking, screaming, biting, punching. Anything just to go back.

“I love you, Reggie.”

They were leaving him. They were leaving James. They were leaving James to die.

Remus had run towards them with tears running down his face, placating him still while Sirius dragged his injured and battered body on the ground and to the ready aircraft.

He doesn’t want James to sacrifice himself like this. He can't let James die. Regulus doesn’t want to be left behind. He can’t end this. They can’t continue this. He can’t continue them. How can he if he’s the only one left? Where is James to continue the other half of their bond?

“Let go! Let me fucking go!”

A wave of monsters and death eaters emerge from the buildings. There were so many. Regulus felt his heart sink further. His whole body throbs in pain, it aches in parts he doesn't know where. His heart definitely hurts.

The locket shines and swings on his neck. A painful reminder of what's left behind, what he is going to let behind.

James.

James.

James.

There wasn't any time where Regulus yearns for James Potter's hold more than now, for his hands to wrap themselves around his body, for his hands to slowly be engraved in his hair, combing his strands, cooing in his ear, whispering sweet nothings and lame jokes and announcing his undying love for Regulus. Regulus yearns for James' body heat to mingle with his, Regulus yearns for James' presence, his being. Himself.

I’m losing him. Regulus realizes. I’m losing James.

And shit if that didn't make him go haywire.

Regulus tries. He tries everything he can so that he can come back for James.

“I love you, Reggie.”

He can't. Instead, he's pinned down, refusing him to run back to the world that is taking James away from him.

“Fuck! Sirius! James there! Your best friend! He's there and you won't even go back for him!?” He snarls, trying to get his foot behind his brother's ankle to make him go down. He's smaller, he's faster, he's lighter, agile. Once Sirius goes down he could make a run for James.

But that's it. That's it. Sirius is bigger, stronger, sturdier. He can't take him down. Brother knows best, clearly, Sirius keeps his promises because the moment his elbows Sirius and hook his feet around him, his brother twists his body and steps back before catching his wrists, swiping his feet and kicking his back to force him down the hard metal of the aircraft. Like he knows what he's going to do. He knows. He clearly knows.

It makes him seethe. Sirius knows what he's doing, but why is he stopping him from saving his friend? Wouldn't he support him? Try to do the same?

“Fucking traitor!” Regulus could feel the slight recoil before it gets tighter. If only Regulus could see the pain in Sirius' eyes, maybe he would feel the slightest bit of sadness. But he didn't.

Second by second, he could feel his energy depleting. The injuries took a toll on him, hitting him hard. Immobilizing him.

I love you, Reggie.

Sirius’ hold on him is hard, suffocating, tight, heavy. It's like metal wire wrapping around his body, like water holding him down to drown, making him heavy and unable to swim to the surface. James’ hold wouldn't be like this, it won't be heavy or tight or suffocating. It would be like cotton, it would be soft, gentle, delicate. James would hold him like he's afraid to break him. The irony is James is the one who Regulus could assure break.

All the chances that he should have taken the urge to feel for his hold, it just had to be now.

Because it just had to be now.

And, Regulus thinks, it's a little too late, but Regulus thinks. You don't know what you have until it's gone.

“Let's go!” Sirius howls. The pilot’s grief-filled face pinches, having watched the heartbreaking exchange between Regulus and James, but she pulls the handle and pushes the buttons.

Regulus didn't know he had James until he lost him. Regulus hadn't realized because he was busy looking for things he doesn't have instead of the ones he has, and the only thing he had was gone now too. He lost the only thing he had ever known.

Regulus didn't know he had James Potter until he was gone.

Ah, that's what is was for.

Then, there's an ear-deafening sound of the bomb going off.

You're a liar, James.

And Regulus thinks, maybe along with James, he lost a piece of himself too.

I love you, Reggie.