sandy

REGULUS

the water is bitterly cold. the waves seem to sharpen like daggers and crash and break apart like glass. the color of the world is muted, the sky a shade off white and the sand too warm to be white and too cold to be anything more than a pale yellow.

the cold has an unwavering cruelty that is slightly comforting. the wind stings the eyes, and it pushes the hair into a frenzy, and it feels like being on the brink of an anxiety attack.

and yet, it’s quiet.

whatever it is. it’s enough. regulus sits a good thirty feet from anywhere near the water has reached. the hoodie he’s stolen from Evan hangs off his frame and he tucks his knees inside it.

there’s an air force base somewhere along the beach to his right, the jets and planes keep flying over him. it reminds him of his dad. the distant father always away on business.

Really, Regulus just feels small. He wishes the ocean would just swallow him up; maybe they’d put his face on the news. It’d be another story for the locals to tell the tourists to keep their children in line.

A warm hand slowly falls onto his shoulder. Regulus doesn’t need to turn to know who it is, but he does anyway.

"Hi," he mutters, a frown on his face.

“Don’t look so grumpy; it’ll give you wrinkles.”

“thanks Dorcas.”

She hums as she leans into his side on the sand. She’s wearing a big brown leather bomber jacket over a white slip dress; the jacket doesn’t belong to her. or maybe it does at this point. Marlene gave it to her so long ago that it seems as though Dorcas has known the jacket longer (and on a deeper level) than Marlene.

which is a sad thought—the fact that he and his friends really only have each other.

Marlene probably never planned on coming back for the jacket or Dorcas. He probably shouldn’t tell her that, though. She probably already knows anyway.

Dorcas slides down until she’s also sitting with her knees pulled in, plopping her head into the slot between her head and shoulder. Everything Dorcas does is graceful and calculated. He can’t help but think all this physical touch is more to ground him than to make Dorcas happy. She’s always been the most understanding, which terrifies him.

“It’s a compliment, really. Wrinkles are a sign you lived and enjoyed it.” She sighs and wraps her arms around herself like a big, warm hug. Dorcas has struggled with boundaries her whole life, in the way that she is searching all over for love. in the crevices of a sidewalk, in the drunken laughter of a one-night stand, of a dark stain of spilled wine on white tablecloth during an argument. She’s a romantic and sees life in a way so much more blissful than anything Regulus has ever come close to grasping, so of course, she can see the beauty in dying.

His curls above his head fall into his face. “Are you sure about New York?”

He has to ask. There are implications for Dorcas in this question that don’t apply to any of his other friends. Dorcas lived in New York. Dorcas wore the city like a scarlet letter.

”are you?” She whispers into the wind, letting the words fall like snow.

Because New York is unfamiliar to Regulus, He's never stepped foot anywhere near the state itself. and it tears him in half; it rips him to shreds each night he sleeps and to even smaller halves when he wakes. Because New York should know Regulus Black

Regulus doesn't reply, pulling at the skin on his lips with his teeth.

Their silent.

The waves crash onto the shore like glass; it feels like it’s cutting his skin.

“Let’s go inside, reg.” Dorcas whispers.

Regulus shoulders slump.

REMUS

The taxi door opens with a click. taking him from the anxious quiet into the loud downtown Brooklyn. He nods to his driver, and the man does something that resembles a nod before he pulls off.

God, this is not something Remus wants to do at all.

This is not something Remus should be doing either. Fuck Sirius Black.

He rolls his shoulders back before stuffing his hands into his pockets and pushing himself into the busy bar.

There’s a hockey game playing on one TV where a bunch of boys are surrounding, on the edge of their seats. On the other side, there are a bunch of tired dads all relaxing over a beer and the Sunday night football game playing on the huge screen.

The fathers are what they are: fathers. Remus resents them for being here; one has a shirt on that says ‘BEST hockey dad ever!’ and he hopes that child never knows what it’s like to wait for a father to come home.

Remus really, really wants to go home.

“Remus!” The voice splinters his skull, and his breath picks up. He’s barely stepped in; he really already has one foot out the door.

He forced his eyes closed and released a breath before he turned.

"James," he breathes with a smile. And that’s just it, because James could never barter a different reaction. He’s never loved or been loved by someone as pure as James.

James throws himself over Remus in a crushing hug that would work a lot better if Remus weren’t several inches taller.

Remus hands sneak around James waist, pulling him into an equally squashing hug.

James smiles like he sees right through him. “and how was mama Lupin?”

Remus tries not to flinch, but it’s an impossible task. his knees buckle just a bit. 

’and how was mama lupin?’

its an absolutely left field reaction but he wants to punch james in the face.

James expression shifts instantly. “moony-“

“Moony!!”

Remus heartbeat hits against his chest painfully, as he spins on his heals to catch the man barreling towards him with impressive speed.

Remus has an immediate urge to flee the building and board himself up in his hotel room.

Sirius lands in his arms and pulls his knees up around him.

“Hey pads.” and the dread seeps in.

Sirius groans dramatically. “i thought you’d be gone forever moons.”

Remus smiles slightly. “of course not padfoot, you know me, can’t stay away too long.”

Its a kind statement, but it feels bitter on his tongue because it’s too true and too vulnerable for Remus to even be thinking let alone admitting.

Sirius is the person to make Remus beg on his knees just to be in the presence of.

Sirius grins at him before he jumps down and out of reach. Remus feels the loss like scissors had cut him out.

it’s for the better, he scolds himself. as though Sirius is someone he can say a mantra for and forget.

Sirius grin turns thoughtful as he studies him. “you look older.”

Remus hands itch, “feel older.” he jokes, but his voice is gruff and pinpricks like a needle.

Sirius doesn’t look older. he looks exactly the same. and that’s exactly what remus was terrified of. Remus has changed, Remus is surprised the two of them even recognized him even though it’s only been a year.

But Sirius is as bright as he’s ever been, his hair extends down and a little past his shoulders. he’s got a black Harley-Davidson shirt on he’s ripped up around the ribs, and it’s put the huge tattoo display on his stomach on full display. And Remus has to force himself to forget he’s the one who put it there, forget he ever got that close to Sirius in the first place to ache the loss of it like this.

Sirius nods, then his eyes light up. “prongs.”

James is still stood behind Remus, lost in thought. Remus really hopes he won’t look too far into Remus flinch. When he hears Sirius call his name he shakes out of his stupor.

“yes padfoot?” he speaks with a smile.

Sirius leans to whisper into his ear as he walks closer to him.

Remus stands, feeling an odd sense of deja vu that makes him feel small.

he doesn’t belong here anymore.

he needs to leave.

the exits only about a ten second walk, a five second sprint.

he could make i-

Then, they’re both pulling Remus along. He isn’t ready for them both to jump him and so he stumbles as he fumbles his way out of the bar.

“why are we leaving?” Remus asks with a grunt.

please don’t touch me, he thinks. please don’t get too close it hurts. it will spread to you please.

James and Sirius shush him as they round the corner of the street. they look like a bunch of highschool kids, it’s almost dangerous how much the thought constricts Remus

They arrive before he has time to even think, he bumps into their backs as he waits for the pair of them to explain themselves.

“welcome, to the best place.” Sirius uses jazz hands as he showcases the building he’s been brought to.

Remus finally gets a good look at it and feels panic set in. “oh no.”

‘The Leaky Cauldron.’

flicks on and off in pink neon lights, a spilling cauldron of suspicious liquids is the calling card for the club.

James throws his head back and laughs. “oh yes moony.”

Sirius grabs his hand and Remus resists the urge to rip it out of his hand. “Wormtail’s already inside! come on.”

the sentence is spoken offhandedly but Remus sighs easily. oh, wormtail is here. Because Peter has reached inside of Remus from the second he’s met him. looked him in the eyes and said. “you’re messy and bleeding, i’ll love you anyways.’

Remus loved them all, and that’s exactly why he needs to leave, tomorrow, after he cures his hangover.

He takes a deep breath in and prepares for absolute hell as listens while James and Sirius casually chat in a familiar way Remus will never have with anyone.

and then they’re off, and Remus is lost to it all.