Distractions
“Tempo tempo ladies.” Coach’s voice rang through the rink, bouncing off the walls and between the stands. The clatter of sticks hitting pucks and skates hitting ice was deafening, and Remus contemplated hiding out in the PT’s office, even though that would get him a firm look from both Coach Evans and Pomfrey. He tried ignoring it and continued to focus on his readings, but it was impossible. He got nearly two sentences in before getting interrupted once again.
“Get that stick out of your ass, Potter, and get a move on it!”
Remus sighed as he once again lost track of where he’d gotten on the page. Something about increasing collagen synthesis…
He scanned quickly over his screen before finding back to where he was reading. The point of him watching the practises was to check how injuries and troubles were behaving with the movements of their playing, potentially scout some new. The first thing Remus had learned was that there was no one that lied like a hockey player, and they would do anything but what they were supposed to when it came to injuries. His job was to see what they were trying to hide, how the shoulder they had issues with moved after taking a shot, if they felt the need to shake it out immediately or not. Whether their hip was affecting their skating, or if their knees were giving out on sharp turns. His job was to pay attention, so he would be toast if he left.
Of course, he didn’t pay much attention sitting there reading a website, but he knew Pomfrey was always careful to keep an extra close eye on players before games, so nothing Remus saw would be something she hadn’t already started working a plan on. Besides, she was the one who gave him responsibility for Evan’s ankles, and he was not about to let him down.
He’d researched almost every treatment that there was, but he’d eventually accepted that there wasn’t anything that could magically fix tendonitis before Saturday, even temporarily. They’d just have to hope that Evan was doing everything he was supposed to, and maybe say a few prayers. What he was looking at now was more of a long term solution. He didn’t even know if he was supposed to have the responsibility for him after playing Ravenclaw, but the amount of research and thinking he had done about it made it feel impossible not to see this through. This wasn’t even about Evan that much anymore, just Remus’ need to finish what he’d started. If he was being quite honest, he kept forgetting who this was even for, and just thought of it as ‘the ankles’.
“Everyone, round up!”
This time, Remus had gotten quite a few paragraphs down, but decided to close his laptop. He also had to look at how Evan’s ankles were behaving before deciding on a course of treatment. He needed to know if they were so bad that he had Issues with ‘breaking’, or if there still was hope of him playing. That was what differed a PT of a sports team rather than a regular one. Most of it was about observing. He couldn’t just look at players when they were injured, he also had to know how they played when they weren’t. The longer he went through this internship, he started to realise more and more that this was something completely different than a physical therapist helping people walk after surgery and stuff, and that he might be dangerously close to staying in sports for longer than intended. It was what he was used to, what he got all his training in. Pomfrey had even decided to hold him hostage here by teaching him only about hockey, as she meant he was made for this kind of thing. The thought made him squirm. He could survive a couple of years here, but he didn’t know how much he wanted a life.
He remembered when he’d first started there, and Sirius and James had to practically force him to go with them. He knew of the hockey stereotypes, and didn’t think they would appreciate a gay man being in charge of their physical health. He was scared that there would be harassment, comments and dirty looks. He didn’t have to be reminded of some of the guys on James and Sirius’ team in high school that had quite a lot to say about him and his then boyfriend, and he was sure this would just be a replay. He’d tried keeping it a secret as best as he could, even though Sirius and James both insisted that the guys wouldn’t care. He could almost laugh thinking back at it, how convincing he thought he was. Reality hit him after Pipes had come to see him one day. He wanted to know whether a haircut would make him look hotter or not.
“How the fuck should I know? Maybe?” Remus responded with a frown.
Pipes pulled up his shoulders. “You’re like the only gay dude I know, and I’m not asking a girl if she thinks I’m hot.”
At first, Remus had panicked at it, but Pipes did not seem to understand that it wasn’t supposed to be common knowledge. It was only a few moments later that he realised that Pipes thought he was gay, and he was ok with that. Not only did he think it was ok, but he was asking him if he thought he looked hot. After that, it became apparent that everyone knew about it, and it definitely had a lot to do with his old instagram posts with his ex boyfriend. He had even been moved to tears when they had all decided to use rainbow tape on their sticks the game right after Remus’ birthday.
Even though his team was probably the best he could ever ask for, he still couldn’t help shake the feeling that they did not represent the whole hockey community. He remembers the backlash they had gotten after that pride-tape stunt, and how people were saying hockey was getting soft. They had of course disproved that statement by beating up some winger on Rockefeldts who’d given them shit about it five minutes into a game. He was well aware that someone had to pave the way for gay people in this sport, and that they might just be more accepting of a PT than an actual player, but he didn’t think he could be the one to do it. Sure, he had the chance to be the start of something, but it would also mean taking all the heat by himself.
Coach decided to start up some drills about training their shots, and Remus immediately opened up his laptop again. Evan had issued with his ankles, not his upper body, so watching them train shots was just a waste of time.
James
James didn’t know where his head was at. This was hockey. Nothing distracted him from hockey.
Still, he let shot after shot that he should have been able to catch with his eyes closed soar past him.
“Potter, what the fuck are you doing?” Coach yelled at him, and he forced himself back on track. He was the alternate captain for god’s sake, he couldn’t behave like this. The younger players looked up to him, did what he did. If he showed that you didn’t have to focus during practises, he’d might as well just hand the badge back.
He did some passes with different players on rotation, forcing his head into submission. It did not help as much as he had hoped. It was like that ‘don’t think of a pink elephant’ thing where if he tried not thinking about something, it just got worse. He was desperately not trying to overanalyze the evening before, but he was nothing if not an overthinker.
It was at times like this that he wished he had some adderall or something to quiet his head down, regardless of the depression it would put him in. It kind of slowed down his thoughts, making it so that he didn’t have that much time to think about things. The biggest reason for his overthinking was that his head went fast enough that he had no problem doing it at the same time as thinking of other things, so it was always there in the back of his head. Kind of like he had at least 7 streams of thought at the same time, all day, every day. It usually wasn’t a problem until that stream of thoughts was about something that was stressing him out, and it ended up taking over every single stream of thought in his head.
Had he been acting weird the day before at Regulus? Sure, his mind was running off to some memory of something, but it always did that. Usually though, he would just end up staring at a wall, not the person right in front of him. God, he hoped that wasn’t about to become a thing. The thought of constantly zoning out at other people was mortifying, possibly his worst nightmare.
Maybe he had made Regulus uncomfortable? He did kind of send him home, and it all became a bit weird. Well of course Regulus had been a bit uncomfortable, James hadn’t just zoned out and stared. No, James had been looking at his smile before logging out, so he was just standing there, probably looking like he wanted to kiss him or something. The thought made him want to give a physical reaction, cringing badly enough that he actually wanted to die.
To make matters even worse, he even took the bold move of leaving behind his shirt. What was that even supposed to mean? He was mortified with all of his actions. This was the reason he always tried to stop himself from acting on his impulses, they were always based of stupid and tactless ideas that would fuck something up. Surely, the only thing to do now was to never see Regulus again. He’d miss that shirt.
“Potter!” Coach yelled, pulling him out of his thoughts once again. “Get over here!”
He cringed as he set course for his coach. He didn’t exactly know what had gone on with him the night before, but it was fucking up everything.
“Where the fuck is your head at, son?” Coach asked, making James grimace in embarrassment. Why couldn’t he just act like everyone else, why did his head always get in his way? Either he was making stupid decisions that made him look weird, or he was on a completely different planet. A planet filled with stupid decisions and memories of staring at Regulus that made him want to smash his head in with a rock.
“Sorry Coach, just distracted:” he said. The man had known him long enough to know how his head could get carried away, but that didn’t mean he let him get away with it. James knew that he’d have to work harder to stay focused, no matter how unfair he thought it was.
“We have a game in a couple of days.” he said like James had forgotten. If his head wasn’t fussing over the Regulus thing, he was constantly thinking of something hockey related.
“I know.” he said.
“Get your act straight then:”
Later that day, James went for a jog even though he knew he probably should have rested. The practices before a game were always brutal and merciless, and his body needed every bit of rest he could get. He should also have been working on his paper, but he couldn't care less about some Greek dudes' thoughts at the moment.
He’d completely skipped out on trying to listen to a podcast, but rather just blast some music, letting his thoughts roam freely. Maybe he could ‘sweat it out’ by just letting it all free, trying not force it away, but let his mind go wherever it needed to go.
Of course, it went right back to that flat on the fancy street. He’d been there enough now to remember not only the layout, but details like the mirror in the hallway, the painting of a landscape, the ceramic bowl on his kitchen counter, the detailed woodwork on his furniture, the cream blanket that smelled like the younger Black brother, the shelf under the mirror where he’d left his shirt…
His mind went back there, and went over the different memories he’d collected, trying to notice something. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he just let it happen. He stopped over a memory he couldn’t quite place, one of Regulus with some halo effect to him. There was this red light beaming from behind him, making his skin reflect off warmly and smooth. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were, making it clear that he was amused over something. He wasn’t sure why, but he kind of liked it, in a weird way. He skimmed over different memories, but for some reason, his mind decided to go back to that one over and over again. Maybe there was something linked to it that he had forgotten, but he wasn’t really sure. It was mostly just…
He couldn’t even find the thought to explain it to himself. All he knew was that his brain liked thinking of it.
I’m in a taxi, texting with my best friend
He’s sleeping with this girl that he met up on the West End
There was something happening to him, that was for sure. Maybe he was having one of those Sirius moments where he’d act strange and do random shit he’d regret later. What other possible reason could he have for seeing his brother in secret, and then acting all weird about it.
The more he thought about it, the more panicked he felt. What the fuck was he doing? He was sneaking behind his best friend's back, and he wasn’t so sure he could blame it any longer on simply just forgetting to tell him about the first time, and then it all snowballing on top of each other. He and Sirius didn’t go behind each other’s backs, they just didn’t. Yet, that was exactly what he was doing. He felt like he was going to be sick. His parents raised him better than this, better than to lie to his friends. He couldn’t even understand why he was lying? Why would Sirius knowing about James reconnecting with Regulus be such a bad thing. If anything, he would probably be happy that Regulus was making some progress in his direction again.
We’re kissing in the bathroom
We’re kissing in the bathroom girl, and uh
I hope nobody catch us
But I kinda hope they catch us
anyway
His mind went back to that one memory of Regulus, and he let it linger. Maybe there was something there he was subconsciously looking for? Maybe in the background behind his frizzed up and messy hair, beyond the dark, but still bright eyes of his. It was kind of impressive how much that boy was able to be at once. Fond but annoyed, attentive but does not care. God, he hoped he cared, but about the right things.
He hoped he cared that James was trying, but not that he was keeping it a secret.
Hoped that he cared about James caring about him, but not that he was currently obsessing over something that probably isn’t even important.
Hoped that he cared about James.
Too soon, I spoke, you be heavy in my mind
Can you get the heck out?
I need rest now
Got me bummed out
He barely even noticed the song changing, too caught up in his own head. At some point he had to realise that he wasn’t doing himself any good by continuing like this. His head bas practically breaking, not being able to handle the pressure he was putting himself under.
The worst part was that he put himself in this damn position of no good outcome. Telling Sirius about this now probably wouldn’t go over too well, seeing as this had been going on for a while. He’d be hurt, feel betrayed, and probably give James shit for it forever. It was also the small issue that he genuinely liked Regulus. For god's sake, they had been friends since they were kids as well, there was some loyalty there as well he’d be breaking if he told Sirius.
He truly wanted to scream, wanted to tear his own head off. He couldn’t make sense of anything. He thought this little jog where he could let his head roam around would help, but it just made everything worse. There wasn’t a single thing he could understand, nothing that made sense to him. All he knew was that he needed to stay away from Regulus until after that game if he ever dreamed of winning that game.
You’ve been making me feel like I’m always in my mind
Always in my mind, mind
The practice after didn’t go much better either.
His head was everywhere but the game, and he felt tired and unfocused. His head wasn’t even exclusively drifting off to that flat anymore, but more to nothing. It was the aftereffects of overworking his brain, a total shut off.
Coach didn’t even bother yelling at his this time, just sent him a few ‘What the fuck?’ looks.
He had things to do, but there was something unresolved in his brain that was bugging him off. It was awful and humiliating if he was being honest. He couldn’t even look at his best friend without seeing Regulus’ face looking back at him, red hue from behind him. It was a literal nightmare.
Everytime Sirius tried talking to him, James was consumed with guilt, stress, and thoughts he was desperately trying to put to rest. He couldn’t even imagine talking to either of the brothers right now and resorted to avoiding the both of them. Not that it needed much work when it came to Regulus, but still. It was going to be some time before he picked up that t-shirt.
Sirius
“Chop chop, we’re already late.” he sounded to a very stressed out James.
For once, it was actually Sirius that was ready on time before him, and could stand there and be annoying while James tried putting on his shoes and looking for his bag. It would have been dreadfully entertaining, had it not been for the fact that he knew it was a part of a string of odd behaviours from him. Hockey practise the prior day had been something different to say the least. Of course, everyone could get distracted and not play at their best every now and then, but not James. It was like the man breathed more hockey than oxygen, like it was his own personal adderall. Nothing ever made him lose focus over it, but something had, and Sirius wasn’t sure he liked what he theorised.
He’d spent the better part of an hour on the phone with Remus trying to figure out what was going on after James had decided he needed a jog after coming home from a four hour long practice. At least that was a red enough flag for Remus to take it seriously.
“Do you remember how he acted when he met Lily?” Remus had asked him, and Sirius had just about grinded off his teeth.
Mad, was the answer.
The boy would neglect all of his basic human needs, would get lost in a different world, get so distracted that he frequently forgot to drink water for two full days. It wasn’t normal, not in any way, but Sirius couldn’t help but feel pity. Euphemia had told him that this was just another one of the ways James functioned differently from him, that when James felt something, it could be intensified almost indefinitely. Sirius knew that things like these were a sore spot for him, just a reminder of how he was different from other people. He also knew how exhausting it could be for him to feel so much all of the time, and how much he worked to stop his brain from spiralling that way. Those jogs weren’t for nothing, after all.
What was really worrying him was the thought that he was falling in love again. Sirius and Euphemia knew that James had too much love in him, and they had hoped it would take long enough before he lost his heart to some girl again that he was able to keep himself grounded. Now was way too soon for that. He had only recently been able to come out of that god awful state he had been in after ending things with Lily.
God help them all if James Potter had fallen in love again.
“Where’s the car keys?” Sirius asked, and James’ eyes widened.
“Fuck..” he muttered before turning on his heel to do this little jog back into the living room.
Sirius had no clue how that man was ever going to make it three weeks without him, that useless troll. Sometimes he thought James would have had a much better life if he ever discovered he was an asexual, but they were certainly not that lucky. Take the opposite of that, and you had James, a chronically fool in love.
As much as Sirius was trying to remain hopeful, every evidence was pointing towards James back in his lover era. There weren't enough Taylor Swift songs out there to describe that.
Of course he was falling in love, he’d been sneaking out, smiling at his phone (that was how Sirius know he’d fucked up), and returning home at noon the morning after a party without even acknowledging it. That boy probably thought he was being so slick with it, that not a single person would notice, but Sirius was onto him. It was even bad enough that he’d gotten the green light from Remus to investigate.
It was in the car that he decided to begin.
“So, what’s been getting your brain in a twist lately?”
It wasn’t the most well hidden or clever thing he could have asked, but it was something. Sirius would not be blamed for not being an actual FBI agent.
James turned his head with a mix of concern and confusion on his face. “What do you mean?”
Sirius raised his eyebrow, but wasn’t sure whether or not he had caught it before returning to watch the road. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was just watching the road, Sirius would have been annoyed at the attempt to escape his glare. OK, maybe he was a bit annoyed anyway, but hey, he was no perfect man. That title was reserved for Vincent Dumas alone.
“You’ve been completely on another plane lately.” Sirius was almost completely positive that he wasn’t going to say anything, but he could maybe pick up on whatever it was that he was feeling.
James cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on the road. Whimp. “Nothing, just stressed about the game.”
“Uh huh.” Sirius replied, not looking away for even a second. James was likely the worst liar ever created. It was like he wasn’t even trying. This was the result of someone growing up with no childhood trauma from their parents, they become liabilities that barely even worked in society. How was one supposed to go through life without lying to people? Thank God he gave up the idea of becoming a politician or a teacher, the man would have been broke.
“So the game has been distracting you from focusing on the game then?” He said it more like an accusation than a question, hoping to draw out a reaction. As expected his face practically deflated, the look of a man caught in a lie.
“Look, I didn’t…” he started, but then that God awful ringtone from Sirius’ phone started ringing. It was ridiculous, the second he started to actually say something, someone was trying to reach him. There was just no way.
He took up his phone, ready to rather pettily decline whoever’s call it was when the name on the screen stopped him short.
Oh, this is unusual.
Incoming call:
Regulus
He took one last look at James who was still keeping his eyes on the road before accepting.
“A quoi dois-je le plaisir, Lusie?” he said, trying to shake the annoyed tone away into something more welcoming. To what do I owe this pleasure?
James’ head snapped towards him the second Sirius had opened his mouth. There was only one person he would be speaking French to unless he decided to give dear mother a call.
Yeah, likely.
Regulus? He mouthed to him, making Sirius scoff. Now he was interested in him, the second he got curious. Sirius didn’t answer him.
“Que fais-tu?” he asked. What are you doing?
Sirius looked over at his best friend with a sly and irritated look on his face. “Rien, j'étais juste en train d'interroger James. What’s up?” he said. At the sound of his name, James briefly met his eyes again. Nothing, I was just interrogating James.
“Ok..” Regulus responded with an eversolight ‘what the fuck?’ to his voice. “Are you busy, or can you talk for a bit?”
Sirius frowned yet again, more with surprise than anything. What was it Regulus wanted to talk to him about? Had to be important if he was willing to actually talk to him about it. “I’m kinda headed over to practice, but I can call you after?”
There was a bit of silence at the other end of the line before the reply came, and this time he switched it over to French again. “Tu peux venir si tu veux ? je suis libre toute la soirée.”
The offer took him by surprise. It truly had to be of importance if he not only was willing to talk, but to invite him over to his flat. Maybe one of their parents had finally kicked the bucket. If only he was so lucky. “Yeah, sure. Anything wrong?” He decided to keep talking English, mostly because he didn’t feel like his French was that good compared to Regulus’. It made him kind of insecure how out of practice he had gotten.
“No, no, everything’s ok, we just need to talk, that’s all.”
That didn’t do much to calm his nerves. First his younger brother was ignoring him, and then he decided to call him and insist they needed to talk.
“I might be a bit late though.”
“Ok, I’ll see you later then.”
“Your brother?” James asked almost immediately after Sirius hung up the phone.
“Don’t try to change the subject here, we were talking about your issues, not mine.”
As much as it bothered Sirius, they did not continue to talk about either of their problems. It bothered him as he got out of the car and into the ice hall.
It bothered him as he went through drill after drill.
It bothered him when he was showering.
It bothered him when he dropped off James and continued on his way to see his little brother.
When did they stop talking about those things to each other? To be fail, Sirius never really talked to anyone except maybe Euphemia about his personal issues, but he had a valid excuse at least. What was James’?
Oh, bu hu, someone’s stolen his heart again, and he has to be all melodramatic and keep all the details to himself. What was with these blonde guys?
Sirius wished he had access to spotify, because if that man started pulling up some ‘Cigarettes after Sex’ again, he would have him institutionalised. That was one step away from Juice World alone in his room, and Sirius couldn’t be friends with that. Why couldn’t he just cry to Lana DelRay or some shit like the rest of those heartbroken people did instead of being so dramatic about it? God.
He parked his car outside of Regulus’ flat building. It was modern and minimalistic and awful. Just like their mother probably had wanted it.
He pressed the button on the screen beside the letters forming BLACK, and the speaker let out a ringing noise to indicate that it was working.
Drrrrrr
Drrrrr.
Drr..
The noise was cut in half as the door’s lock opened up for him. There was no sharp version of his brother’s voice over the line, only a cut as the mic turned off.
When Sirius reached the top of the elevators, Regulus was already standing at the door. Sirius hesitated for a moment, feeling ill at ease. He hadn’t realised how long it had been since the last time he saw his brother. Maybe a couple of months even. It was strange considering they went to the same university and spent most of their time in the same ice hall, but this was still the first sight he had caught of his brother in ages.
“What’s up?” He snapped himself out of the daze and took a few confident strides towards him in the door. A smile dazzled his face, humour smeared thick in his voice.
It was fake.
All fake.
Regulus nodded in greeting as he let him inside.
Sirius didn’t know why he had expected anything to change. The apartment looked as it had done the very last time he saw it, barely anything that reminded him of his brother, just an empty shell of a luxurious apartment, just like their mother had picked it out.The only thing that looked personalised was the bookshelf, but that was only because he had been the one to pick out all of the books. Like Walburga and Orion would have bothered with spending their time reading.
“Wow, I really like what you’ve done with the place since last time. Is that a new coaster? Really, Lusie, above and beyond.”
Regulus seemed to ignore his jabs, which was likely for the best. Sirius acting like this was certainly not helping anything. “Mum called.”
The simplicity of that sentence drew the breath out of him.
How sudden it was.
The first thing Regulus had said to him.
Two words that were able to rattle him to the very core, and he was sure that was Regulus’ intention. He was just like their mother in that aspect, he knew how to work people just the way he wanted them to.
Mum called.
So much force in those two words, digging up their entire relationship in a couple of seconds. All the memories he did a usually great job keeping below the surface dragged up by to simple words.
They shouldn’t have meant anything to him.
They wouldn’t if he was anyone else.
If he was James, he’d probably be smiling, not skipping a beat before asking what they had talked about, how she was doing.
Not Sirius.
He stood dumbfounded in his younger brother’s hallway.
Mum called.
Mum. Not Maman. That was how he knew Regulus had meant for it to catch him off guard like this. Regulus never called Walburga anything other than Maman, she would not allow it. This was intentional, like he wanted for Sirius to experience everything he had worked so hard keeping down, all the emotions welling up, threatening to drown him. Memories that pulled at his edges, different voices of different ages screaming ‘Maman’.
One begging for attention.
One begging for permission.
One begging for mercy.
People talking about their mums didn’t affect him anymore. People asking him about his mum didn’t affect him anymore. He was even able to say her name, and it brought no effect. Walburga Black didn’t have control over him anymore. Walburga Black was a stranger to him.
It didn’t affect him anymore, but yet, he was standing in his little brother’s hallway struggling to keep air in his lungs just because of two words. Two words that he would hear all the time, James telling him that Effie called, Remus complaining that his did too… It shouldn’t have affected him.
Then again, no one had quite the effect on him that his little brother had.
He swallowed down, forcing the memories below the surface before they completely emerged again. “My condolences.” he forced with a calmness he was entirely sure Regulus knew was fake. “What did the wicked witch want?”
Regulus did not betray anything in his face, it was as still and unmoving as it would ever be. It was uncanny how much his face looked like their mother’s when he did that.
“She was asking about you.”
Sirius felt the chills creep up his spine, threatening to leave him shaking on the floor. “Finally misses me, huh?” He was impressed with his own ability to cover up the quiver in his voice. Years of training.
Regulus’ expression had not changed even once in the conversation, still like stone and eerie. Sirius got the dire urge to rip it to shreds just to get it to do something. It had been too long since he had to deal with this. Regulus was testing him, there was no questioning that.
“This might be papa’s last christmas.”
Of course, the years of excessive smoking had their consequences, who would have thought? Still, the statement worried him. Sirius was well aware of his father’s crippling health, so he didn’t think Regulus would bring it up without any reason.
“Congrats? Is that why you got me to drive all the way over here?”
He knew that wasn’t all, but he didn’t want to speculate. Didn’t want to spare his parent’s more thought than they deserved. It always filled him with this claustrophobic feeling he couldn’t shake.
“He wants to see you for christmas.”
And if that didn’t crawl up like a gun to his head, he didn’t even know.
His exterior remained cool and composed, but his head wanted to run away as fast as he possibly could. His exterior remained still, but his breath got a little quicker. It had been years since he had to control himself like this.
He wants to see you.
That would mean France. His family. His mother. Him.
The words that had left Regulus’ mouth crawled up his arms and under his skin, ripping it off his body. His mind helplessly let a few memories slip, and he tired looking around the room to distract himself from them.
Memories of Christmas in France.
Maman.
Once again, the voices started smaller, but increased in strength, volume and desperation.
“Well I want to be forgotten, but it seems we’re both out of luck.” he said with a voice that didn’t care. Fake. It was all fake. Always fake with his brother.
He half expected him to argue with him, try to convince him that he should do it, just for old time’s sake.
All he got in return was a simple “Ok.”
Ok. He didn’t have to go.
“I’ll tell them.” he continued, and Sirius felt himself nodding, not looking up at his brother. He didn’t think he could stand the face of his mother right now, not with the screaming in his head.
Maman.
“Ok.” Sirius repeated after him.
He didn’t know what else to say. There was too much left unspoken, and he didn’t even know where to start. Didn’t even know if he wanted to start unpacking all of that. The only way he survived was keeping it in an airtight box, and letting it out into the open like that might break him apart. His parents had done enough of that already, and he refused to give them the satisfaction of being the thing that finally killed him. Every breath was out of spite, every smile, every laugh. Everytime he was happy, it was like sending them the biggest cosmic finger he could imagine.
They had probably been right in him being their greatest failure. He was the one thing they would forever have failed to break, but that didn’t mean it didn’t take everything in him not to crumble at the spot. His parents weren’t even here right now, but he felt trapped.
He was the one standing closest to the door, but he still felt trapped.
Regulus wouldn’t have been able to beat Sirius in a fight if he’d tried, but yet it was Sirius that felt like he was in immediate danger, like his life could end at any moment. Like if he didn’t get out of here, he would never be able to return to his life, never see James again, never set foot on the ice again.
He wanted to be anywhere else right now, anywhere he could get his head straightened up again, get his memories to quiet down. It had become pictures now too, and it felt like the more he tried envisioning something else, the more the memories started piling up on each other.
He’s alone in a cold room.
Maman.
He’s not alone anymore, but he wishes he was.
Maman.
Everything came back to him quicker than he’d expected it to in the matter of a couple of minutes. Every time Sirius had been convinced Regulus wasn’t like their mother, he would do something like this. He would set Sirius off just to make it clear who was in control.
Sirius didn’t even have time to be mad at him, he just needed to get out.
“Good talk, Reg.”
He doesn’t remember stepping out into the car.
Doesn’t remember driving.
Doesn’t remember getting back.
He was just a child on the floor of his childhood room.