Chapter 1
“What the fuck, Reg?” Sirius exclaimed as he entered his younger brother’s room. The black out curtains were drawn, making it hard to see. The room reeked of weed, and if you squinted, you could almost see the remains of smoke in the air near the ceiling. Sirius grimaced, pulling the curtains apart and opening the small window.
“Fuck off,” Regulus groaned from the bed, shoving his head deeper into the pillow that he gripped on to with both arms. When the sun hit him, he groaned even louder, pulling his blanket up over his head.
“Dude. It’s like noon. On a Tuesday. Your room smells like shit and frankly so do you.” Sirius said, sounding like a petulant mother. He had always taken the older brother responsibility very seriously, especially now that it was just the two of them. Not that their mother had ever raised them properly. That had always been Sirius’ job and he wasn’t going to stop now.
Regulus opened his eyes, staring straight up. He had a pounding headache and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to get his limbs to cooperate. He felt dead on his feet and he wasn’t even on his feet yet. When he finally looked at his brother, he wasn’t surprised to see Sirius leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed at his chest.
“Go shower,” Sirius said, tossing a towel at the other boy, “and I’ll make you breakfast. Or lunch. Whatever.”
Regulus slowly got up, ignoring the gentle tremble in his hands. And his legs. He was dizzy, but that wasn’t entirely unusual. He stumbled to the shared bathroom, grimacing as he walked on the cold tile. They had a heater, yeah, but it was cheaper not to use it.
After he showered, he did not look in the mirror. He found it was easier just to avoid mirrors. And cameras and most reflective surfaces. It was better that way.
He slowly walked to the kitchen, dragging a hand through his still damp hair. Sirius was at the stove, pushing what looked like eggs around a pan with a plastic spatula. The smell made Regulus nauseous. He sat at the table, his chin resting on his palm.
“So, did you have friends over or something last night?” Sirius asked, not turning from the stove, far too focused on not burning the eggs.
“No. Just me,” Regulus responded shortly, eyes drooping with exhaustion. He hadn’t fallen asleep until he could faintly hear the birds chirping outside; he’d gotten up and closed the curtains to avoid the light from the sunrise.
“Your room still smell like ass?”
“It’s…airing out. Whatever,” Regulus huffed. He was eighteen, he didn’t need his brother to baby him. Plus, Sirius was barely even a year older. Just because Sirius has a job and a boyfriend and a social life doesn’t mean that Regulus is any less well adjusted.
“Is hotboxing your room on a Monday night a thing you do now?” Sirius asked, finally deeming the eggs good enough to serve. He sat down across from his brother, pushing the plate of eggs and toast towards him. Sirius wasn’t upset, no, just…concerned? They had only been away from their family (if you can call them that) for nine months. Or, well, Sirius had been away for longer. They had only been together and away from their family for nine months. And Sirius didn’t know what parts of Regulus were results of leaving, and which parts were because of him just growing up, and he didn’t know how to judge when a behavior went from teenage rebellion to a cry for help. He was only nineteen himself.
“No, just stressed. Lots of homework,” Regulus said, lying through his teeth. Sure, he had homework, from the accelerated graduation course he took online. He’d tried normal school, but most days ended…badly, to say the least. But Regulus had always been smart and he’d never minded school work; it gave him something to focus on. Hence why he had already finished almost all of his coursework.
Sirius nodded his head, eyeing him warily.
“Siri, I’m fine, alright? You smoke weed all the time,” Regulus said as he pushed his eggs around the chipped plate.
“Yeah, at parties, on weekends, with friends. Not alone in my room on a weeknight. But whatever, to each their own.” Sirius said with a sigh. No use in discussing it now, not when Regulus was obviously not in the mood to talk. And it was just weed anyways. Teenagers get high, that’s what they do. “Any plans today?”
Regulus shrugged, still not eating the eggs. He didn’t like eggs on a good day, and now, they seemed revolting. Something about the unpredictable texture.
“I have work in about an hour, and I’m closing tonight. Won’t be home til around midnight. Maybe you could invite Barty or Pandora over? Maybe go see a movie or something?”
“Maybe,” Regulus replied, getting up out of his chair. “Thanks for breakfast.” He scraped the eggs into the trash, ignoring the glare that Sirius sent his way.
Regulus wouldn’t be inviting anyone over. He was perfectly content spending the day in his room. He would sit there, and sit there, and sit, until the urge to do something becomes unbearable, and then he would light a joint or raid the medicine cabinet or steal a pack of cigarettes from Sirius’ stash.
The thing is, Regulus knows he’s safe. Since leaving Grimmauld Place, he hasn’t been put in danger once. But, he’s still afraid, in a way. At Grimmauld, he spent a lot of time alone in his room. If he stayed there long enough, sometimes Walburga would forget he existed, until the hunger got too much and he’d sneak downstairs to the kitchen and then she would remember. But it was easy to disappear, most days. And even now, now that it’s just him and his brother in a tiny shitty flat that is never warm enough, he can’t fight the subconscious urge he has to disappear. When Sirius is gone, at work or with friends or whatever he does, Regulus stays in his room. An outsider would have no idea that anyone besides Sirius lived there.
Regulus couldn’t help but find comfort in disappearing.