Chapter One
Tears. They stained his face, clung to his skin, salty, warm, dripping.
He’d come so close that night at dinner. He could feel the words on the edge of his tongue, the urge to scrape back his chair stronger than ever.
He was so close to getting out, at least briefly, and he had nearly thrown it all away.
Now, he clung to the sink, cool porcelain clenched in his grip, tears dripping one by one into the basin. He could feel the long, ebony locks of hair framing his face, ever present. They brushed his shoulders now; that was as short as his mother would allow him to have it. He paused, took a deep breath. Get your shit together. Blinking back the tears, he drew his head up, meeting his own eyes in the mirror, and - promptly started crying again. Mascara stained his perfectly feminine cheeks, lashes plumps and pretty from the tears. Full lips, dainty nose. Those stupid fucking doe eyes.
So perfectly feminine.
He let out a muffled cry and let his head fall once more, cradling it in his hands, grasping it roughly. Why can’t I just look like Sirius? Or Father? Or - or just anyone else? Just - please, not this. Anything but this.
At that, he felt his legs give way, and he crumpled to the floor with a thud, not caring about the bruises that would surely form on his legs later, joining those already left there by his mother’s hand; instead curling into himself, letting his head fall back against the wall, eyes closed, tears still streaming down those perfect cheeks. He’d mastered the art of silent crying a long time ago, and quiet sobs shook his body, face crumpling more each moment.
If he could just get rid of his face, his hair, his body, anything to make him look like him, anything at all. At times like these, he thought even death would be better than this.
Right?
The pain of knowing he could never have what he wanted, the pain of having to take the hits from his mother, the pain of having to go on, to live a lie, to live a life that wasn’t his - it would all be gone. In one, simple moment.
His eyes flickered open, allowing his gaze to land on an object sitting across from him, on the other side of the bathroom.
Scissors.
All at once his heart sank and lifted, breath catching in his throat.
He just sat there for a moment, contemplating. 11 years of life, and what did he have to show for it? Abusive parents and a life he didn’t want. Would it really be so bad if it all ended, here and now?
In one fluid motion, Regulus brought himself to his knees, reaching for the scissors with one hand, flicking on the bath tap with the other. As the bathtub began to fill, steam wafting about the room, he drew himself up, tentatively stepping into the water and hissing at the heat. He flipped open the scissors without thinking, and stared down at his bare wrists, thin, and slender, and so fucking pretty, and he just wanted them gone, it all gone, black, dead-
“Reg?” The jarring voice came combined with a knock at the door.
He didn’t answer, just stood with bated breath, eyes wide and staring directly at the door.
The knock came again. “Reggie? You in there?”
Fuck.
“Reg, if you don’t answer I’m gonna come in, okay? I want a shower.”
Fuck fuck fuck. He dropped the scissors and they landed with a plunk in the bottom of the bathtub, forgotten as he dropped to his knees with a splash, sobs flowing free and fast, no thought for how much sound he would make. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t force his big brother to walk in on his body, still warm but suddenly unmoving. He couldn’t force the burden, the guilt of a dead brother on him. He just - couldn’t.
After all, he was just Regulus Black.
“Sirius. Help.”
*
“Reg. Reggie, I’m here, okay? Answer me. Answer me, Reg. Oh, for fuck’s sake, answer me!”
There were hands on his shoulders, jolting him back and forth. He looked up, small and scared. Sirius’s face, looming larger than life, peered at him from above, and the memory of the past moments flooded back. The bathtub, the scissors, the water, the tears… oh, gods.
“Oh, hells, Reggie. Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”
Regulus met his eyes, and the pure panic in them caused his body to crumple once more, tears breaking loose again.
“Oh, shit. Hey. Hey, it’s okay, Reggie, I’m here now, you’re okay,” Sirius soothed, stroking his hair.
Regulus shook his head violently, tears never stopping from springing to his eyes.
“What do you mean? What? Is there something I need to know? Have you done something else? Do I need to get you to the hospital? Reggie, help me out here, please!”
All he could do was shake his head.
“Sirius, I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t? For fuck’s sake, Regina!”
And there it was. Regulus couldn’t help it - he flinched back, pain flashing across his face, squeezing his eyes shut.
“What?” He looked back up at Sirius to see pure confusion etched across his face. Oh, for fuck’s sake, indeed.
“Sirius, I-” he was trying, but fear constricted his throat, making words hard to form. “I-” please just understand. “I’m-” and then the tears were falling. They wouldn’t fucking stop. And his breath, oh gods, he couldn’t breathe, help-
“Right, okay. Just sit up. Just stop and breathe for a second, okay? Just breathe. You can tell me when you get your breath back. It’s okay, Reggie, I’ve got you.”
He closed his eyes, fisted his hands in his hair. His long, gorgeous hair. Oh, how badly he wanted it gone. To just - take a pair of scissors to it and lop, and lop, and lop, until it was all gone-
“Hey, stop pulling at your hair, Reg. Come on. Don’t wanna ruin your hair, it’s gorgeous,” Sirius said, followed by a laugh.
Silence.
“But that’s the thing, Sirius,” Regulus whispered, trembling. If this went wrong… “I don’t want long hair. I don’t want a pretty face. I don’t want to wear lacy dresses. Gods, Sirius, you of all people should have been able to see it. You’re my big brother, goddamnit!”
“Reg…”
His voice was thick with tears, but he pushed on, gaining strength. “My name is Regulus, Sirius. Not Regina. Regulus.”
Pause.
“Reg…?”
“I’m not a girl, Sirius. I’m a boy. I’m - I’m transgender, Sirius.”
Pause.
“Oh.”
Another pause.
Seemingly unbearably long, dragged out for what felt like hours, days even. Regulus kept his gaze on the floor, utterly terrified for what was to come.
Then-
“Regulus.” He looked up, and there sat Sirius across from him, smiling. “I like it.”
And all of a sudden the tension in his body fell away, and tears were running tracks down his face again, but this time it was okay, it was good, because Sirius was there, and everything was going to be okay.
He looked up again, and Sirius was standing, offering his hand.
“Now, how about a haircut, hm?”