Chapter 3
It’s dark outside, Regulus observes as he walks out of the small bookstore. He had gotten there a little later than noon, first using it as a meeting palace with Remus, then using it as a safe haven after his friend left. It’s not uncommon for Regulus to stay in this place for hours on end, but he’s never stayed until dark. The dimness of the streetlights makes his skin crawl, and he can tell by taking one glance at his phone that the buses are no longer running. He’ll have to walk home. In the dark. Alone.
The fact that terrible things could happen to him on his way home isn’t the scariest part of his venture; he’s much more worried about his mother’s reaction when he does get home. He supposes he could walk to Remus’, but it’ll cost him an extra twenty minutes, and Remus’ dad would not allow Remus to leave the house past curfew. Regulus has seriously fucked himself.
Grabbing his headphones from his bag, he begins his walk to his friend’s house, hoping that by blocking out the surrounding noises, he won’t freak out as much. He thinks about using his phone flashlight, but decides against it, seeing as it would most likely draw unwanted attention to him. He needs to be careful, he knows that.
The hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and suddenly he’s being watched. A quick glance over his shoulder allows him to realize that he’s being followed, and not by just one person, but by a group. He’s seen things like this happening on the news; someone is always alone and then suddenly they’re getting mugged or jumped. In the back of his mind, he wonders if these people know who he is because of his family, and the thought makes him shudder. If that’s the case, this will not end well.
Sliding one of his ears free from the headphones, he quicken his pace, now able to hear the footsteps of the people behind him. They also speed up. Shit. What does he do? He could call someone, but that would most likely alert the people behind him, and could result in him getting killed instead of beaten. He could text Remus, but what could he do right now if his father won’t let him leave? His mother is not an option whatsoever. The footsteps are getting closer.
He opens his phone, fortunately having it as dim as possible already, and then scrolls through his contacts. He’s panicking, and he knows he really shouldn’t text this person, but he knows he can drive and that he doesn’t care about curfews if he even has one. Taking a deep breath, and, once again, quickening his pace, he types quickly, panicked.
Need help. Being followed.
Regulus takes a deep breath, then shares his location with the contact before sliding his phone into his back pocket, trying not to look suspicious. His music is paused at this point, so it looks like he’s listening to tunes through his headphones, but he’s truly just making sure these people don’t get too close. They’re only getting closer, and Regulus is just hoping that he can still trust this person with his life.
He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and reaches for it, only to get his forearm grabbed firmly by one of the people behind him. They were closer than he thought, apparently. His thumb glides across his screen, his muscle memory kicking in as he enters his passcode and discreetly calls the person he texted.
“You’re the one guy’s kid, aren’t you?” A man with a deep, grumbly Welsh accent speaks. Regulus tries to make out his features, but it’s impossible to do so while it’s this dark outside, not even a dim light anywhere around them.
“I beg your pardon?” Regulus forced out, trying to steady his voice. The group of men–four of them, Regulus counts–let out chuckles.
“‘e even talks like a richie,” one of the other men says.
“Let go of me,” Regulus tries to tug his arm away but fails. Damn, this guy is strong.
“We will,” the man holding him says, a twisted, malicious smirk tugging at his lips. “You just need to give us what we want first, yeah?
Regulus looks around, sending a sharp glare toward all of them, though he doubts they can see it. “You lot can get fucked.”
The man’s smirk falls from his face and, before Regulus can register it, a fist hits him on his jaw hard. Like, really hard. It makes Regulus stumble back, though he can’t stumble far with the man gripping him so hard he’ll likely bruise. Suddenly, his head is spinning and he can’t think. He thinks the man in front of him says something else, but he really can’t tell. He just knows that the same fist collides with his nose after a second of silence. The rest is sort of a blur.
He remembers a flash of colors, red and gold, zooming by him and the man in front of him falling to the ground, resulting in Regulus also falling. He remembers being let go after that, and also having to spit up blood after tasting it in his mouth for much too long. After that, there’s nothing. A familiar voice shouting something to him, a comforting voice, then he’s out.
***
“Oh fuck,” Sirius gasps out as soon as James is back, Regulus handing limply from his shoulder. “Is he okay?”
“He’s alive,” James sighs out. “You are so beyond lucky that you’re friends with Spider-Man.”
“I just don’t get why he texted me,” Sirius runs a hand through his hair, watching James closely as he places his brother down on the bed. His brother. His baby brother. “Did you catch the pricks that jumped him?”
“No, he blacked out after he hit the ground,” James grabs the first-aid kit from under Sirius’ bed, this time not for himself. “They didn’t break his nose or jaw, but there’s likely going to be some pretty bad bruising,”
“I can clean him up,” Sirius offers, standing from his desk chair. James freezes, then turns to look back at him. “If he sees you in your whole,” Sirius points up and down at James’ body, “outfit, then he’ll just freak out. It’s easier to tell him that I brought him back here.”
“I’ll go change,” James nods, heading for the window and slipping out, likely scaling over to his small balcony.
Sirius is left with his brother and a silence that is beyond deafening. His heart beats in his ears, and his whole body pounds with fear as he inches over to his brother, the medical supplies laying open by his head. Oh, Sirius feels like he’s going to throw up.
Gently, he begins dabbing an alcohol wipe over the cut by his jaw, backing his hand away as his brother winces, then goes back in. It reminds Sirius of when they were younger and Regulus would scrape his knees after they snuck away to the park. He would wail, more often than not getting odd looks from everyone else at the playground. Sirius would have to shush him while they snuck back into the house, and Regulus would always sob into his hands when Sirius cleaned up his injuries.
They had only been caught once, and it was the last time they had ever snuck to the park together. They were both supposed to be in their rooms, locked in there from a punishment for something they had done days prior. They hadn’t eaten anything since being locked in their rooms, so Sirius took some of the money from his hidden piggy bank and took Regulus to the park so they could get some street food and play. It was late when they returned, because Sirius assumed their parents would be asleep. When he snuck Regulus back into his room, they were met with their mother standing at the bedroom door.
Sirius insisted that it was his idea and that he forced Regulus to come with him. Regulus screamed and cried as his brother was beat right in front of him, denying all of Sirius’ words, but Walburga didn’t listen. Regulus’ punishment was scrubbing his brother’s blood from his bedroom floors. After that, Regulus strictly refused to sneak out with Sirius ever again, often calling Sirius an idiot for wanting to get on their mother’s nerves.
Looking back, that might’ve been the beginning of their relationship falling apart. It wasn’t the first time Sirius had taken Regulus’ punishment, and it most definitely wasn’t the last, but it seemed to be the most traumatizing for Regulus. Well, the second most traumatizing. Memories of the night he left shoots through Sirius’ mind and he shivers, shaking the thoughts out of his head like a dog shaking off water.
“Sirius?” Regulus’ voice is soft, yet also gravelly. Sirius’ eyes shoot down to look at him and he wants to cry. It’s been awhile since Regulus looked at him like that. “Where the hell am I?”
“You’re at my house, James is in his room,” Sirius answers, moving Regulus’ hair from his forehead, only to discover a deeper gash. “Shit, Reg.”
“Don’t call me that,” Regulus’ eyes have hardened again, and he winces harshly as he tries to sit up. “Fuck, my head hurts.”
“Let me clean it,” Sirius sighs, grabbing for the alcohol wipes again. Regulus’ eyes widen and his eyebrows knead together, fear visible on his face. Sirius fails to hold back a laugh. “Still terrified of these, huh?”
“It hurts,” Regulus huffs, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “God forbid I don’t like being in pain.”
“Do you need something to hold onto?” Sirius’ question is sincere, but Regulus must think he’s messing with him, because the glare he gets in return is deadly. “Okay, nevermind.”
James still hasn’t returned from his bedroom by the time Sirius patches up the deep cut on his brother’s forehead, so now they’re being drowned in silence. Sirius feels like that, anyway, barely able to breathe through the tension in the room. Going back over to his desk, he opens the bottom left drawer and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter, then goes to sit on his window sill.
He can feel Regulus’ eyes on him as he inhales deeply, closing his eyes at the feeling of the smoke burning his lungs. Then, he exhales, blowing the puff out the window before turning to meet his brother’s eyes. They’re hopeless, truly.
“Why did you text me? Why not Remus or Barty?” Sirius arches an eyebrow as Regulus sighs, as if he was expecting this question. He probably was.
“Remus has a curfew, Barty is at Evan’s house, so he’s most likely busy,” Regulus starts playing with the inner seam of his jeans. “I didn’t think you’d show, but you were my last option.”
“Well, you can’t go home now,” Sirius sees Regulus’ head snap up, but turns his head toward the window to take another hit of the cigarette. “Walburga would throw a fit.”
“She’ll throw a fit, anyway. I’m supposed to let her know in advance when I’m not coming home,” Regulus sighs. Sirius frowns, keeping his head turned away from his younger brother.
“Just say you got caught up studying at Remus’,” Sirius offers, looking at his brother once again. He’s looking down at his lap and picking at something in his hair, and Sirius can only assume it’s dried blood. He’s about to say something, but the door swings open, catching both Black brother’s attention
James’ eyes widen as they land on Regulus, and a soft smile tugs on his lips. Regulus just stares at him, a small hint of something that only Sirius could notice shining in his eyes. Oh, God. Not this shit again.
“Hello,” James breathes out, sounding breathless despite only having to walk a few feet from his door to Sirius’.
“Potter,” Regulus greets, nodding his way. He looks back over at Sirius. “Where’s my phone and my headphones? Remus has my location always and he’ll be confused on what I’m doing here.”
“Oh, I’ve got your phone, but your headphones, uh,” James grimaces, pulling Regulus’ phone from the pocket of his pajama pants, “they didn’t make it.”
Regulus’ eyes widen and this might be the most devastated Sirius has seen him in years. If it were anyone else, Sirius would say that crying over headphones is dramatic, but this is Regulus so there must be a good reason for his eyes to well up. James absolutely panics upon seeing the boy’s reaction.
“I can buy you a new pair! Please don’t be upset,” James, like it’s an instinct, sits down next to Regulus and wraps an arm around the boy to comfort him. Regulus shakes his head, shoving James’ arm away and standing up from the bed. He looks up at Sirius, tears brimming his eyes.
“Bathroom?” He croaks, his nose wrinkling after he speaks. He’s never liked crying in front of people.
“All the way down the hall to the left. I’ll bring you clothes to sleep in,” Sirius answers, stubbing his cigarette out on an ash tray he has sitting on the outside part of the window sill. Regulus nods, turning to the door and exiting the room swiftly.
“What was that about?” James asks after a few moments of silence.
“First, Regulus doesn’t like being touched,” Sirius sends a glare toward his best friend, who sticks his hand up in defense. “Second, he hates crying in front of other people. Despises it, actually.”
“Over headphones?” James tilts his head, a confused pout on his lips.
“I don’t know why he cried over the headphones, but I’m sure he has his reasons,” Sirius sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m giving him my bed, so I’ll sleep with you tonight.”
“Ooh, should I tell Remus that I’m stealing his man?” James waggles his eyebrows, a playful smirk. Sirius rolls his eyes but laughs and throws a football at James, who, of course, catches it. Stupid sixth sense.
***
When Regulus hops into Remus’ car the next morning, a million questions are sent his way. He’s already had to deal with his mother’s nagging on the phone this morning, and now he’s getting a lecture from Remus about why he should’ve just called him instead of Sirius. Annoying, honestly.
“You should be thanking me now that you know where my brother lives,” Regulus cuts Remus’ rant off and is met with a look of shock.
“You could’ve fucking died, Regulus!” Remus stares at him in genuine disbelief, and Regulus just rolls his eyes in response.
“I didn’t, though. I’m here and alive, now can we please just go?” Regulus is tired of the dramatics, and his face fucking hurts. He doesn’t feel like talking right now, especially if its just him defending himself. Remus sighs, then starts his car and begins driving.
It’s around ten in the morning, and Regulus managed to sneak out of the house without having alerted his brother or James. He did run into Euphemia, though, and she was very sweet, offering him breakfast and such. He kindly declined before leaving, stealing some of Sirius’ clothes–black jeans and an oversized David Bowie hoodie–so that he’s not parading around in pajamas.
He hadn’t said much to his brother after returning from the bathroom, just a small thank you after being offered the bed. It was much more comfortable than his bed at home, but that’s likely because he’s had the same mattress since he was able to sleep outside of a crib. It was comfortable many years ago, but Regulus can barely remember what it’s like to not have a sore back. Oddly enough, the mattress became less comfortable the night he was left alone.
He barely spoke to James the entire time he was there, only acknowledging him a few times and embarrassingly asking how to use his shower. The bathroom at the Potter’s home, much like the rest of the penthouse, was much nicer than Regulus is used to, in the way that it was all newer. Everything in the Black household is antique, like the building itself, and often creaks when trying to use it. He can never understand why his parents don’t just buy a new house, but insist on staying in the dark townhouse.
“Where do you want to go?” Remus asks, opening Spotify on his phone and beginning to play a playlist–Regulus’ playlist–as they drive through the city.
“Anywhere. I just can’t go home until I think of a good excuse for my face looking like this,” Regulus motions to his jaw, which is now a deep purple, matching his right eye.
“Why not just tell the truth?” Remus’ eyebrows knead together, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Regulus lets out a bitter laugh at this.
“She’ll make it a big deal and insist I don’t go out by myself,” Regulus rolls his eyes. “She’s a ridiculous woman, Remus. She’ll yell at me for letting my face get damaged because it’ll look bad in front of the press.”
“You could always say you got in a fight with someone?” Remus shrugs one of his shoulders.
“And get yelled at for being immature? Yeah, okay,” Regulus scoffs, crossing his arms and leaning back against his seat. He can feel when Remus glances at him, a tinge of sadness in his eyes, and then they’re on the road again.
“You know my place is always open if you need to run off, right?” Remus offers for possibly the millionth time since they’ve known each other. Regulus lets out a sigh, pinching his eyes shut.
“I appreciate that, Remus, truly,” Regulus sighs. “You know why I can’t do that, though.”
They’re silent because this isn’t the first time they’ve had this discussion in this exact spot, and Remus does know the reason Regulus has to say no. The first time he had told him, he couldn’t believe it, even having to hold back laughter at the idea. Regulus, though, looked him in the eye when he told him he wasn’t joking, and Remus instantly shut down his amusement. The absurdity of it was understood, of course, because who would be afraid of being like their ever-achieving brother?
The thing is, Regulus knows that it won’t be as simple as it was for Sirius, and that’s saying something considering his older brother had to pry a knife from his hand in order to be able to grab his bags, which were already packed. It was obvious that it was his plan for a while, but neither he nor Regulus believed it would go that far; that their mother would go that far. Regulus hates to think about it too much.
After that night, after Regulus had to look his older brother in the eyes and lie to him about wanting to stay, security around the townhouse had grown. Before, there was only Kreacher–the boys’ assigned bodyguard–who mostly just guarded their doors when they were meant to be locked in there. Kreacher would sneak the boys food every now and then and was promptly fired after getting caught. Regulus never learned his real name.
Now, there were guards in front of the townhouse, working in shifts and always keeping watch. It was embarrassing, having to walk into a townhouse with guards in front, because is that not the slightest bit excessive? It was also not very effective because, though he would never, Regulus could just sneak out his back window if he really wanted to go somewhere without his mother knowing. He had been tempted a few times but never could bring himself to do it.
Still, he enjoys the praise from his mother every now and then when he’s reminded how unlike his brother he is; obedient is what she calls him. Like he’s a dog. Praise is praise in Regulus’ mind, though, and the thought of never getting that small amount of praise from the woman he loves more than he hates makes his mind spiral into a frenzy. Tough love is what his cousin, Bellatrix, had called it, and he couldn’t agree more. Though, his other cousin, Andromeda, had called it abuse, and she was much more sane than Bellatrix ever had been. Blissful ignorance.
“What exactly happened last night?” Remus speaks through the silence, which had been going on for what was most likely ten minutes. “You told me, but I didn’t get details of what actually happened.”
Regulus clears his throat, because, truthfully speaking, he also has no idea what actually happened last night. It was mostly a blur, especially toward the end. He had been thinking for a while about what the flash of color he saw could’ve been, and his own mind laughed at him every time he thought about it. His brother didn’t mention anything about him, though, so how could he have been there? Would Sirius and James keep that part from him to try and act like they won the fight? Sirius, absolutely, but James would be too excited to hold it in. So, that’s Regulus’ best guess.
“I think Spider-Man showed up,” Regulus sounds breathless as he says it, and he realizes he must sound like a fool. Remus’ eyes widen and he stops the car jerkily before whipping his head in Regulus’ direction.
“What?!” Remus exclaims, gaping. Regulus feels his face heat up a little because it is a ridiculous thing to think, isn’t it? Why would Spider-Man save him after his father had bashed the hero publicly more times than he could count?
“I don’t know, it was all a blur of sorts,” Regulus shrugs, curling into himself. “I remember seeing a lot of red and gold, and then hitting the ground and that’s that.”
“It sure sounds like he showed up,” Remus nods, his eyes still wide as he turns his head back towards the road and begins to drive again. “You got saved by a superhero and didn’t even get to talk to him.”
“I don’t know if I did for sure!” Regulus shrugs, then tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “I feel like James would’ve told me.”
“James?” Remus looks over at Regulus questioningly. “Since when do you call him James?”
“Potter, sorry,” Regulus rolls his eyes. “I’m probably in shock or something, I don’t know.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Remus lets out a quick, airy laugh, rolling his eyes. Regulus scoffs, turning the volume of the music up.
“Can we just go get some coffee and some food?” Regulus huffs out, not looking at Remus, but knowing that he nods in response.