A Greek Comedy (but not really)
“Ice or no ice?”
Regulus doesn't drink cold coffees. He doesn't drink anything cold. He doesn't need to consume something so cold to add onto the constant chill he feels breeze through him at all times. He doesn't want to encourage the blood that barely circulates in his body to freeze once and for all. He doesn't wanna be colder than he already is.
So Regulus smiles. He smiles for a second before saying ‘no ice’.
“Can I get a name?”
“Archie” Regulus answers, it rolls off his tongue naturally.
Lying comes so easily to him, but guilt doesn’t.
He quietly pays for his drink before grabbing the cup of bitter dark liquid. He seats himself right across Barty and Evan. He doesn’t mention the fact that he’s aware they’re holding hands under the table. They know he knows.
“Anything piques your interest?” Asks the blond one.
Regulus shrugs as he gives a nonchalant answer. “Nothing much.”
“He means nothing was flashy enough,” corrects Barty. Regulus rolls his eyes looking unamused, but he doesn’t deny.
“Well, whatever. That’s good because you’re not getting those assignments even if you wanted to.” Evan says. Regulus gives him a curious look.
“I have something a little more important for you.” He announces it like it’s a good thing, but Regulus can see through his words. His eyes are remorseful. So very sad. Worried. Regulus swallows dry. He knows they aren’t alone. They’re speaking in codes.
“Something important? I don’t know if the company should entrust me with something like this. I expected the management wouldn’t trust me much after the incident last week.” There’s so many hidden meanings behind each syllable.
Evan grimaces a little, and that’s when Barty jumps in. “The superiors have been discussing the incident very thoroughly. They concluded that you’re an extremely well performing employee. They don’t want to have to let you go.” You’re too dangerous to roam freely. You’re a threat to them. Regulus feels a lump form in his throat.
“And what happens if I turn down the assignment?”
“Ha, funny. It’s not an offer, it’s an assignment.” Barty replies humorlessly. Evan seems to have pulled himself together as he adds on. “It’s gonna be rather tasking. It’s a lot of work, frankly I’m scared you’ll get lost in the workload. So try not to.” It’s lethal. I’m scared. You’re gonna die, it’s a suicide mission. Don’t die, try not to.
Regulus wonders just how many times Sirius had this conversation, in a much harder way too. He survived god knows how many of these self destruction missions. Regulus could survive one.
Instead of reacting, he pushes the cup of coffee away from himself. He’s as hollow and as cold as can be at that moment. For a moment his heart stops pumping blood, but he still breathes as his brain works at full speed. Regulus Black doesn’t need a heart to survive. All he needs is a body and a brain. “Alright. I understand. Give me the details, will you, Barty?” His voice is dead cold, like a quiet hopeless town in the middle of nowhere at night.
Both boys in front of him seem to look away, avoiding his gaze. He understands.
“Actually, I’ll get going. Gotta rush home. I’ll see you both later.” He says as he carefully gets up and steps out of the café. His brain is running at an incredible speed, trying to find a way out of this.
He’s angry at himself. What was he thinking? He’s not Sirius, he doesn’t lash out impulsively. He doesn’t rebel. That’s not Regulus. So why did he do that? What was he thinking? Why can’t he find it in himself to regret his decision? How did he not see this coming? It was so obvious.
But what can he do now? He could run, but only for so long. He isn’t Sirius. He finds himself needing to remember that, because he’s oddly close to halting in his steps and running the opposite direction. But he won’t, he’s not Sirius.
He continues to come up with endless answers to give, things to say, and more, but it doesn’t seem to help. He can’t seem to shake off this horrible feeling of dread off of his shoulders. As he gets in the elevator, reaches into the pocket of his coat and takes out his keys, he finds himself really missing being Sirius’s baby brother. He hadn’t been that Regulus for a while now, but that didn’t mean he didn't wanna be. He tries to soothe his fidgety fingers like Sirius would:
It’s gonna happen anyways. Don’t fret now. You’re not gonna die, not now.
Regulus hisses, because he hates Sirius so much. He hates Sirius so much for leaving, for not trying, and for being so fucking amazing, because Regulus doesn’t feel so heavy now. He isn’t fidgety, or anxious. He’s oddly composed, it’s bone chilling, really.
He slowly gets out of the elevator and pushes his keys into the lock. It easily opens, and it’s clear that the door has been forced open a few moments prior. Regulus can’t help but smirk a little. He doesn’t care, not really. He doesn’t care because he isn't gonna die right now. He’ll live. They can’t kill him like this. It’s too obvious.
He enters the apartment and calmly closes the door. He doesn’t need to hear the quiet whispers that emerge from his living room to know exactly where his guest awaits him. He enters the room and instantly feels all eyes on him, but he can’t bring himself to care. It’s gonna happen anyways. Don’t fret now. You’re not gonna die, not now. His eyes lock onto the man that is comfortably sitting across his armchair. He doesn’t greet him with a fake show of respect as he doesn’t bother with bowing. He doesn’t want to. On top of it all, it won’t matter. He’s as good as dead in the man’s eyes. Still, he nods a little as a sign of acknowledgment. The other does the same. “Black.” He says.
“Riddle” answers Regulus.
“You’ve got some nice furniture. Very homey.”
“You could say that.”
Riddle nods before he talks again, voice much heavier this time. “Not up for small talk?”
“Not really.” Retorts Regulus truthfully.
“Shame. But it’s alright. Let’s get to talking buisness.” He clears his throat and leans forward. “How did you know?”
Regulus shrugs. “Why would I tell you? Where’s the fun in that?”
Tom seems to sit on this for a moment before gesturing towards one of the many men surrounding him. “This is Avery. A close friend of mine. He’s in somewhat of a problematic situation, you see. He runs an organisation very similar to mine, and he’s been having some trouble with an employee.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Oh, you know, the kind of trouble that may trigger a reaction.” He says as he gives him an appointed look.
Regulus swallows dry, he bites his tongue even, but the words flee his mouth without his accord. “The kind of trouble Sirius caused.”
He finds that once again, he can’t regret it.
He watches Tom stiffen, but not react. His jaw locks but he doesn’t let it show for more than a split second. “The kind of trouble you caused also, yes.”
“What an interesting guy he seems to be.” Regulus says.
Avery seems to be fuming but Tom jumps in before chaos unfolds. “Yes well, it’s good that you’re so interested. You’ll be spending quite some time with him in the following months. Me and Avery here have been having some issues with a competing organisation, let’s say. So we think that two ambitious personalities from our ranks might just have it in them to solve this problem. Plus, I’m sure you would enjoy a little trip to Paris. Bring us a souvenir if you make it back here, yeah?” The man says mockingly. He knows as well as Regulus what it means that he’s being sent to Paris. Tom is practically putting him in a position with no connections, no independence. He also doubts that the other unfortunate guy is the underground social butterfly of Paris. Still, he’s willing to put up a fight.
“And what if we don’t follow orders? We both seem predisposed to rebelling from what I’ve gathered.” He argues.
Avery laughs and answers this time. “Oh yes, we took that into account, of course. James, my employee, your partner, whatever you wanna call him, he’s defiant, but not suicidal. You seem to have figured out that we’re trying to kill you off because of your rebellious attitude. He’s in the same situation. Our offer is simple, really. You finish off The Order together. You’ll both most likely die during the process. If one of you makes it, you’ll be forgiven and keep your place in your current position. If you both make it, it’ll be the same. If you go against our orders? Well, I’m sure the Order would gladly kill you. Without our help, you’ll be discovered in minutes.” He shrugs as he explains, as if he isn’t just telling him he’s as good as dead, a walking corpse that’s running towards his grave.
It’s a very bitter pill to swallow, but he will shove it down his throat if he has to. Sirius would have, but he would have fought before. “How do I know you won’t turn us in anyways?”
“Well,” Riddle says. “I’m hurt that you don’t trust me.” It’s almost a joke. “But, do you really have another option? You run now, but you’re not Sirius. You can’t run like he does. You’ll get tired one day. You’re too obedient, you can’t run if I tell you to stop.”
Regulus can feel a fragment of his dull, unmoving heart shatter at Riddle's words, but he knows there's truth in them. He's not Sirius, he can't rely on reckless defiance and sheer willpower. He feels like a wild animal, cornered and scared, but still hissing. Still, he may not have the same rebellious spirit as his brother, but he refuses to go down without a fight, even if that fight must be waged from within the confines of Riddle's twisted fantasies.
Regulus meets Riddle's gaze, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "I don’t hesitate, Riddle. I won't go down without a fight if need be."
Tom just laughs with no true joy. “You never do.”
Truly, the next few days are primarily a sequence of blurs in Regulus’s memory. He can’t put two and two together, he can’t remember if he had packed yesterday or today. He can’t remember if he had breakfast or not. He doesn’t remember when and which books he ripped apart. He doesn’t know how he found himself in front of a tub filled with water to the brim. He doesn’t know if he cried or not. He doesn’t remember if he was sad or mad. He doesn’t know what day it is.
Regulus doesn’t care.
It’s too late.
There’s a knock on his apartment door. It’s gentle. It feels unsuited to be around Regulus. He’s a force of destruction, cold and fierce.
He walks towards his door with a neutral look on his face. He can’t bring himself to put on any looks. No smiles, no stern eyes. Nothing. He’s void. As hollow as can be, like a carved out tree thunk. He feels like he’s walking on nothing and everything at the same time with every step. He’s lost. He doesn’t want to, but he’s already accepted death. It’s not an issue of confidence, it’s the nightmares. Sirius’s nightmares. Sirius’s words. Sirius’s tears. Sirius’s wails. Ever since the meeting with Avery and Riddle, all Regulus could think about were the screams of horror he heard rip from Sirius’s throat. He made it back from every fucking mission that was supposed to bury him, but they always managed to steal a little bit of Sirius. He would come home with a fading smile each time. Regulus never really understood why he kept on going against Riddle’s orders if it was truly this horrifying, and he still didn’t now. Maybe he would never know. He didn’t talk to Sirius, he had disappeared off the face of earth. Anyways, was he even going to make it? He might just die.
He was distracted by a much more aggravated, yet still too gentle, knocking and the voice of a woman calling for him. “Mr Black?” She asked. He narrowed his eyes. He most definitely did not recognize the voice. He didn’t answer. The woman spoke again. “Regulus Black? Sir, the car is waiting for you downstairs. If you would please come out –” She was cut off by the violent and sudden opening of the door.
He wasted no time memorising every inch of her, just in case. It was a reflex nowadays.
Sirius used to do it too.
She had fair skin and beautiful wavy platinum blonde hair. It reaches her lower back. She has glass clear eyes that seem to be a window to a whole other universe, a future even. Regulus is sure he would lose himself in them if he looked into them for much longer than a minute. She wore a long, summery dress and she resembled an arctic fox. That was the only way he could describe her. She looked as if she had stepped out of an ancient Greek myth directly onto his doorstep. He didn’t say a word. He could swear he felt a weird, tingling warmth climb up his fingertips as she smiled. He couldn’t help but soften his gaze.
“Mr Black, happy to see you. I’m Pandora Lestrange. Shame we couldn’t have met earlier. Bellatrix used to talk about you lots. I’ve been looking forward to this!”
Regulus’s heart drops and he wants to laugh so bad. Sirius would have. He didn’t know if the fact that he compared her to a Greek myth just before she revealed her name to be Pandora was a hallucination or he just had extremely good senses. On top of all that, their situation resembled the myth an odd amount.
Pandora Lestrange was gifted. She had a strong last name, one that would open every door of the underground to her. One that also haunted the corners of Regulus’s life, along with his own last name. She was also eager; to learn and to teach. To listen and to talk. Most importantly, she was curious. She was eager and curious to meet him, and when she couldn’t hold back and parted her lips, she let slip out all that is evil and all that is wrong with the world out of her mouth without even knowing.
And yet, Regulus knows, he can feel it, there is so much kindness and love where the evil came from.
He wants to laugh, because just as he, Regulus Black, was forced to represent everything the honourable star he was named after stands for, she, Pandora Lestrange, seems to suffer the same fate as Pandora who opens the box and spreads evil, unable to let hope and kindness out.
“Hi Pandora.” Is all he can get out without it sounding choked. He doesn’t remember the last time he talked to his family.
Pandora beams at him. “Well, ready? I’ll help with your stuff, if you have any.”
Regulus shakes his head ‘no’. He doesn’t need her to help him. “I’ll be okay carrying my stuff, thank you though.” He says, barely above a whisper. Pandora keeps on beaming, and it fills Regulus’s body with something similar to a feeling. He hasn’t felt anything in days, really. He almost feels something.
Regulus is really thankful for Pandora, but she terrifies him.
He locks the door to his apartment. He looks at the door. It doesn’t feel like goodbye, but Regulus knows it is. Even if he makes it back, he won’t ever look at the couches the same, he won’t see the fridge and not think about all the food he couldn’t keep down. He won’t look at his library without reminiscing about the books he destroyed one by one.
Most importantly, he won’t ever step back into this apartment feeling as lonely as he does when he leaves today. Of course, that last part is something Pandora keeps to herself. Regulus has no business knowing what Pandora sees. Not yet anyways.
As they walk out of the building towards the car that awaits them, Pandora breaks the silence. “Mr Black–”
“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Regulus is fine.”
“Oh, right.” She seems to stumble upon her words as she watches the driver get out of the car and grab the luggage Regulus hands to him. “Okay then. Regulus I wanted to– well, I’m supposed to give you some information about the mission. Would that be okay?” She asks in such a way that Regulus thinks he has a choice in the matter, but he knows he doesn’t. He’s going on that damn plane no matter what. He would rather know a little about what he should expect at least.
“Yeah. Carry on.” He retorts before reaching for the door of the car to let Pandora in. Again she beams, and Regulus wonders how one can be home to so much joy that they get to smile mindlessly at every little thing. He imagines that he, also, has such privilege in another world. She slips into the backseat with ease and Regulus makes his way to the other side of the car where the driver is holding the other door open for him.
As soon as he’s in the vehicle, Pandora starts. “I don’t really know too much,” It’s a lie, but no one can know that. “Just what Mr Riddle and Mr Avery have told me to pass onto you.” She hates the way the word mister feels on her lips. “You’re going to be using your real identities and real passports when you go across any border, but within the city, you and James will both have fake identities.” She stops to make sure Regulus understands. He nods. She smiles again. “Right, the mission is supposed to last around 6 to 9 months, you can’t be too quick, but you can’t be too slow either. It’s impossible for you guys to wipe out the entirety of The Order without getting caught in under 2 months. However, you’ll be laying low after entering France, that will require at least 3 months with no action.”
She can clearly see the gears turning in Regulus’s brain. She knows what he wants to say, but she won’t let him. She will make sure Regulus listens, because he can not die. Pandora can’t have him die. She’s too young to die, and so is he. “Do you understand, Regulus. Nothing for at least 3 months. Not even research on The Order. For the next 3 months, you’re not 23 year old Regulus Black on a mission. You are a random, admittedly boring, guy who just lives.”
Pandora really needs Regulus to live. Regulus has to live, because the sun might fall apart otherwise. If the sun falls apart, there will no longer be a future to see. Pandora will be blinded and dead all at once. She can imagine no fate worse than that.
On the other hand, Regulus is somewhat frantic. How important is this organisation? Three fucking months of hiding? Sirius had never been away on a death mission for longer than 2 months. How? Why?
He wants to jump off the car. He wants to leave. He wants to curl up into a ball and stay like that. Regulus wants to stop being Regulus. But he can’t. He closes his eyes, hoping to open them again and find himself on the beachside at night, with calming waves that hit his legs occasionally, but that never happens. He’s still in the car when he opens his eyes. The only things similar to tides are Pandora's eyes.
Pandora’s eyes, who are so full of worry and concern for some reason.
He wants to protest, but he’s gone mute again. All he can do is shake his head, because fuck this.
He doesn’t need to be looking at her to feel her wince a little at this. “Regulus, please.” She begs.
Again, he shakes his head.
“Listen, you have to, if you wanna make it out alive, you have to.”
“I might just die either way. I don’t want to sit around and wait before starting to kill myself.”
“And what if you have a chance at making it? Are you really going to neglect that, just because of a maybe?” She scoffs in disbelief.
“And what’s it to you Pandora?”
To that, she can’t really answer, not entirely. She knows what it is to her, but he can’t. Not now. Instead of being honest, she looks away as she murmurs. “You’re family Regulus–”
“Pandora, we just met. You seem–” He has to halt because he was way too close to calling her lovely. “--nice, but you’re not family. Not really.”
She doesn’t look heartbroken by this, because she knows. She just hopes he didn’t. Still, she smiles at him. “I don’t have a family. But I’d like one. You need one. So I’ll be your family, and I’ll care, and I’ll fret and worry.” She whispers quietly, so quiet that Regulus wouldn’t hear her if the car hadn’t stopped at a red light a few moments prior.
He looks stricken. Pandora sees the way he stops breathing, and it hurts. It hurts because she cares oh so much.
She cares so much because she knows things he doesn’t know. She cares because she’s seen the tears and the sobs before they come. She’s seen the evil before it even finds Regulus. She cares because really, Regulus is just a little boy with a heart that yearns to be mended. For the first time ever, Pandora gives Regulus a sorrowful smile.
“Doesn’t have to be something specific. Just family.”
“That’s the most illogical, unreasonable, senseless thing ever.” He replies, because he can’t find it in himself to tell her yes. But he can’t tell her no either. She gives him a knowing smile. “That’s fine. I’ll be your family, and one day, you’ll tell me if you want to be mine.” And that’s all there is to say, because she’s back on track before another word can be said. “You’ll meet James at the airport. You’ll know when you see him, it’s impossible that you don’t. But just for reference, incredibly tall, short curly brown hair, tan skin, glasses. And he’ll definitely be wearing something red.”
“How do you know that… Wait, do you work with Jack?”
“James.”Pandora corrects him.
“Right, James.” Regulus repeats.
She shakes her head. “No, but I’ve met him once. Don’t ask me how I know about the red, I just do.”
Regulus doesn’t question it.
“Anyways, I have a little bit of bad news and one good news.” Pandora says grimacing.
Regulus rolls his eyes. “Hit me, I guess.”
“Ah, well bad ones or good one first?” She asks.
“Good first.”
She seems to consider his wish for a moment before speaking. “I’ll save you the good one for last.”
He’s more offended than he should be, frankly, but he can’t help it when his jaw falls open slightly, eyes wide. Before he knows what he’s doing, Pandora bursts into tiny fits of giggles, clutching at her stomach. And again, there’s that tingling sensation of warmth at his fingertips. All he can do is smile faintly as he sinks into the playful atmosphere in the car.
He’s certainly aware that he’s on his way to a very long and very dangerous suicide mission, and does actually care, a little thanks to Pandora. Still, his face softens a little more with every sound of laughter that escapes Pandora. It’s peaceful.
She calms down and gathers her thoughts, out loud.
“Okay, oh god. Okay. What was I saying–”
“Bad news.”
“Oh. Well yes. James can’t speak French, so you’re stuck being his translator. You’re stuck with him 24/7, in short. Day and night, very romantic if I do say so.” Her smile does not falter once unlike Regulus’s will to live.
He groans very audibly and throws his head back. “We’re going to Paris. How did anyone allow an anglophone spy in a France based mission? How?”
Pandora cocks her head to the side curiously. “An onglo– what?”
He takes a breath. “Anglophone. French for ‘English speaker’.” He explains.
“Oh. Well, I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Anyways, I’m guessing this is bad news but you’re sharing the house with James.”
“Pandora, the road has never been more tempting. Please let me just walk back.” He doesn’t say go back home. He knows he can’t. Regulus has an apartment. He has no home. He lost home a while ago. It had been maybe half a decade.
“Oh come on, he’s really handsome you know. You’re lucky.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
To that, Pandora diverts her gaze from Regulus’s and tries really hard not to laugh.
She laughs anyway because he has no clue what’s about to hit him. James Potter is a force only Regulus Black can not sense.