i'm not okay, but i will be
As soon as he woke up, he could tell it was going to be a day . He tried to focus on the way the sun was filtering through the windows, he really did. He tried to focus on the way that Regulus’ soft, black curls were blocking his face, and the way that James lightly brushed them to the side. He saw his fluttering eyelashes, the freckles that dusted his face, and yet, nothing happened.
It was incredibly frustrating because James felt it . He felt all of the love, the yearning, the peace he felt when he was with this man. Now, all of it was dampened by this indescribable, crushing weight. He couldn’t take a full breath, couldn’t move his hand from Regulus’ face.
He stirred just as James was starting to have to manually exist and breath and live. He let out a small yawn, blinked a few times. His eyes focused on James.
“Good morning, Jamie–” His eyes crinkled with worry, the skin between his eyebrows drawing together. James focused on that – he tried to decipher what the creases looked like, and it was funny, really, because when you just focused on those crinkles, they barred an uncanny resemblance of an old man’s face on his forehead.
“Love, answer me.”
James hummed, managed to run his thumb along his husband’s cheek – yes, husband , now. He had a husband, yet he felt like this .
“I didn’t hear you, I’m sorry.”
Regulus gave him a warm smile, taking his wrist and moving James’ hand down to his lips, ghosting a kiss across his knuckles. “Don’t be sorry. I asked if you slept alright.”
“Yes, of course.” No. It’s getting bad again .
“Are you sure?” I’m worried about you .
“Mhm, just a rough day yesterday.” I don’t know how to make it stop .
Regulus was quiet for a beat, then he squeezed James’ hand. “OK, I’ll just go fetch us some tea, then.”
“What about Harry? You got him last night, I can start–”
“He’s with Sirius and Remus.”
James sat up in bed at this. “When?”
Regulus shrugged and crossed his arms, leaning on the doorframe. He felt his gaze, felt his calculating eyes roam James’ dark circles, dirty t-shirt, and the cuts along his fingernails that he picks at. “I took him there before you got up. Sirius called yesterday, said he was having withdrawals .”
James gave him a tight smile. “Oh, did he now?”
Regulus nodded. “Yes, the whole reunion was quite dramatic for 8 in the morning.”
James’ felt his heart beat quicken. He scrambled for his wand, cast a Tempus , and realized it was half past noon.
“Wait, I’m already so late–”
“It’s Saturday, James.”
He raised his eyebrows at Regulus, letting out a violent sigh. He still wasn’t able to breathe fully, not since he woke up. “Oh, that’s right. Sorry.”
Regulus shook his head, eyes lingering on him for longer than necessary, it felt. “It’s alright, love.” He pushed himself off the doorframe, and made his way to the kitchen.
James heard the soft hum of the kettle being turned on. Finally, he sunk back into bed. Their ceiling fan had blades that resembled the wings of a Snitch – Regulus told James it was “ quite an ostentatious light fixture ,” after Harry had come home from Flourish and Botts, gabbing on and on in his indecipherable baby language that only he and Sirius managed to understand. He was vehemently against the idea of one in his own home, he had told James. Then, he came home from work a few days later. He opened their bedroom door to Regulus on a ladder, screwing the blades onto their ceiling fan – Harry sat on the floor next to him with dozens of toy trains scattered about, babbling to himself. He discovered later that there were Snitch fans in Harry’s room and the living room, as well.
Now, he stared up at the fan, watching the wings slice through the cool air of their room. They slowed to a steady crawl, and James felt his eyes grow heavy like lead, unable to close.
He had a good life . Great life, even. His parents were warm and kind, had friends that would take an Unforgivable for him. For Christ sake, he had a son , one that bore his features and lit up his world like no other. A son that clenched his fists and waves them around when he was excited, who carried around a stuffed lion named Growly wherever he went, and gave James’ heart a little squeeze every time he called Regulus papa .
Oh, Regulus . He often called James his sun, his mon soleil : said that he was the brighter one, the one who always saw the good in people. But, no, James always thought the opposite. Regulus was the brightest. A star, the star, the only one that mattered in this world. The sun caused damage, it could scorch the Earth if it got too close. The sun was bad, it was bad , and –
Regulus was holding two steaming mugs, calling him that very name. He had been standing there for a minute, James realized. “ Mon soleil , here you are.”
“Hmm?”
“Your tea, love.”
James nodded and took the cup gratefully. Regulus sat beside him, sipping from his cup, his eyes boring into him over the rim. James felt his eyes, but only fixed his gaze on the contents in his cup. He didn’t know if he could drink it – the thought of doing anything for himself, bringing the mug to his lips, felt monumentous.
“On a scale of one to take me to St. Mungo’s, how bad is it?”
James felt a smile on the corners of his lips. The crass way in which Regulus dealt with James was something that he didn’t know he needed until he had it. Sirius and Remus, help as they might, seemed to walk on eggshells around James whenever he had his depressive episodes (he still hated calling them that, so Regulus referred to them as his days .) Regulus, on the other hand, knew he wouldn’t break at a simple joke. He made James feel like a semblance of a functioning human when he said things like well, let's keep you away from the astronomy tower or did you take your crazy pills today, Jamie?
“I’ll be fine, I think. I’m just… spiraling.”
Regulus nodded, and took both of their mugs to set them on the nightstand. He laid back, opening his arms to James. He laid on his chest, and Regulus’ hands flew to his curls, which he started to work the dirty knots out of. Bless him , James thought. I feel disgusting, and he doesn’t even bat an eye .
“Spiraling where?”
James huffed out a sigh. “It’s just… hard to realize that it’s not going to go away. I’m never going to get rid of it, and it sucks.”
Regulus hummed, planting a kiss on James’ forehead. “I would argue that it’s a good thing, my love.”
“Why?”
Regulus paused, trying to gather his words. “Well, feeling happy all the time sounds dreadfully boring. Rather mundane, really. And me, I find that when I’m truly at my worst is when I realize what I have going for me. I’m not alone,” Regulus pressed a firm kiss to his temple, “and neither are you, James.”
Tears overtook his vision, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. “I feel crazy, all the time.”
The simple admission of the feeling’s existence felt as if he had sealed his fate. But, Regulus only laughed.
“Jamie, if you were truly crazy, I would tell you. But,” he gently grabbed James’ chin with his thumb and index finger, turning it to face him, “just because you have bad days doesn’t mean you’re mad.”
James couldn’t help it – he pressed his lips to Regulus’, earning a hum of appreciation. Regulus moved his hand to the back of James’ neck, and moved his lips to pepper his face with kisses until James was reduced to small, breathy laughs.
“Ok, ok, point taken.”
Regulus was making his rounds on James' neck, humming in approval. He held him incredibly close, almost like he was still afraid James would slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful. And oh, James desperately wanted to slip through – most days, that’s what he did. He stayed in bed, wrapped in their comforter while Harry tugged on Regulus’ hand from the doorway and said Papa, why daddy take a lotta nap times? I hate naps.
He just needs some rest, Haz. Regulus would say. He just needs some rest .
The thing is, James could sleep for weeks and still be exhausted within the first few minutes of waking up. Waking up, being conscious, means that he’s aware of what he is, what he has . And what, to his dismay, won’t go away , no matter how many therapists he sees or work he does on himself.
“You’re going there again, James.”
James placed his hand on Regulus’ chest to anchor himself to this moment, right here, with his husband. His rock. His star . He rested his forehead against his, heaving in air and mimicking the rise and fall of Regulus’ steady breaths.
“I know. I’m back.”
Regulus cupped James’s face in his hands, slowly grazing his thumb over his cheek. To his nose, against his lips. “Good. I missed you.”
James did his best to roll his eyes, but he didn’t want to move from their comfortable embrace. “God, you’re such a sap.”
Regulus gasped, pulling back one of his hands to give James a light smack on the cheek. “Alright that’s it, enough comfort. Back to insults.”
“No, it’s just sometimes I forget that you’re a proper romantic –”
“Say another word, Potter, and you’re out on the couch tonight!”
James clutched his chest, feigning shock, dramatically laying back down on the bed. “Oh, no. Sequestered to the drawing room, like the common peasant! In my own home? I’m the man of this household, Regulus, and I demand to be treated as such!”
Regulus huffed and untangled their legs, standing up and taking a long sip of his tea from the side table. “Oh, such a man, and ever the flair for the dramatics. Now we know where Harry gets it from,” Regulus grimaces and uses James’ wand to cast a warming charm on his tea, cradling it in his hands.
“Hey, you know he’s always taking after —”
“ PAPAA !”
“Harry, slow down!” Another voice yelled from the front foyer.
The pair met each other’s gaze with wide eyes.
“We summoned the devil spawn,” James said solemnly. Regulus tsk ed and threw a pillow at James. He made for the door, hesitating before looking back at him. Oh. This again.
“Are you… I can keep him busy, if you’d like.”
James didn’t want to keep from his son. He wanted to play with him, to listen as he showed him his trains and told him their names, as he talked about his day with his uncles and the trouble they inevitably got into that Regulus would scold them for later. I can’t decide which one’s the child here, Sirius, you or Harry!
He wanted these snippets of life, no matter how much the twinge in his gut hurt, no matter how much his brain screamed at him that he doesn’t deserve any of it, that he’s worthless , and everyone’s going to leave .
“I’m not okay, but I will be,” James took a breath, then stepped on the cold hardwood floor for the first time that day. It didn’t swallow him whole, like he thought it would. It was firm against his feet, and he took a deep breath. One step, then the other. Then, he could do it again.