To: Reggie
From: Ken
Ciao from Italy! Hopefully you get the souvenir I sent you. I know it doesn’t seem all that interesting, but this sand is sacred!! It’s supposed to bring you good luck and fortune, so you’ll have to write back and let me know if it helps.
How are you? We haven’t heard from you in a while. I know you’re mad at S, but we’re all worried about you. At least text one of us so we know you’re okay? Please?
I miss you. Hope you’re well. Xx
Regulus wants to rip the letter in half and never see it again. He also wants to read it over and over until he has it memorized. He settles for stuffing it in the tiny box he has hidden in the floorboard of his room, setting it on top of the multiple other cards he has from James from over the years.
He picks up the tiny bottle of sand, twirling it in his fingers. Good luck and fortune, huh? What a load of bullshit. Scoffing, he sets the bottle down on his dresser next to the other gifts James has sent him. It was always something random; a baseball hat, a pair of sunglasses, a magnet from a landmark. But he kept sending them even when Regulus didn’t respond.
As if on cue, his phone pings from his bed. With a scowl he walks over to see who it is, desperately hoping that it’s Sirius. He picks up the phone with shaking hands, nearly screaming when he sees that it’s just James. Again.
“What the fuck is his problem?” Regulus growls, resisting the urge to chuck his phone at the wall.
From: Pot Head
Hey Reg! How’re you? Here’s a funny pic I just took of Pads. We miss you.
*image attached*
Regulus’s chest clenches when he sees the familiar sight of his brother. They’re all sitting in a small tour bus, Sirius and Remus laying on top of each other on the couch while Peter laughs at them from a chair. James isn’t shown, which Regulus sort of hates. He’s always the one taking the pictures, and Regulus thinks that’s sort of a blight of the universe that no one takes pictures of him. Maybe because he’s simply too bright to be captured. A simple photograph couldn’t do James justice.
What the fuck am I even thinking? Regulus wants to smack his subconscious. Fucking James. He always makes Regulus’s brain go funny.
Shaking every thought of James from his mind, Regulus goes back to his journal. His journal is his only lifeline at the moment. Everything he can’t or won’t say aloud, he writes down instead. If Sirius were still around, he might talk about some of it with him.
But he isn’t.
He’s on his second world tour, the opening band now. The first time The Marauders had toured, they’d been opening for another boy band that was popular at the time. Now they were that boy band. Regulus wishes he could be a part of it. But clearly Sirius doesn’t want him around. He hasn’t bothered to reach out in the two months since he ran away from home.
Regulus can’t really blame him.
He sighs and picks up his pen, starting with the date.
December 5, 2018
He’s interrupted by his mother’s ear-splitting screech coming from the first floor. “Regulus Arcturus, get down here!”
Christ. He looks longingly at his window, desperately wishing to crawl out there and have a smoke before subjecting himself to whatever torture his mother has planned for him. There’s no time.
He feels like the hourglass of his life is falling away, the last few bits of sand ready to fall to the bottom. He sort of wishes it would just happen already so he could be rid of this miserable existence. Unfortunately, his day is not today.
He walks downstairs, still clad in his smart black trousers and pressed white button-down. His body is tense when he enters the sitting room. A middle-aged man that he’s never seen before sits on the sofa, his mother in the armchair beside him. His father stands in the corner of the room, a glass of whiskey in his hands. They briefly make eye contact, and Orion makes a strange face, almost a grimace. Well. That’s uplifting.
“Mother,” Regulus greets stiffly from the doorway, not too excited about whatever this is.
“Regulus, darling, come sit.” She gestures to sit on the sofa beside the man. “This is Yaxley, a director that’s interested in you for his next film.”
She’s looking at him sharply, and he can practically hear the words she isn’t saying. Do not mess this up, this is a great opportunity for us.
“Nice to meet you, Yaxley.” Regulus sits down and reaches his hand out for the man to shake.
Yaxley takes it, his gaze raking down Regulus’s body in a way that could never be confused with innocence. Great. So, it’s one of these appointments.
He can feel his brain already starting to cloud over, separating from his body. This happened a lot during these appointments. His mind just sort of… checks out. He can’t really remember a lot of what happens when he’s off in the clouds, and he thinks his brain does that on purpose. He doesn’t think he wants to remember what happens.
All he feels is the buttons on his shirt coming undone, and the rest is a blur.
~
James is on the tube when he gets a text. Expecting it to be his Mum, he pulls it out lazily, still feeling jet lagged from all the traveling he’s been doing for the past couple of months. When he checks his phone, he nearly drops it.
From: Reggie
Hey, I know I’ve been ignoring you guys and stuff, but Sirius didn’t answer and I need someone.
James stops breathing. He clicks the call button before he can think better of it. Regulus picks up on the third ring.
“Hello?” His voice asks in a small, quiet tone. He sounds like he’s been crying.
“Where are you, I’m coming right now.” James says, his voice firm.
Regulus’s breath hitches. “I sort of… ran away? I’m in some restaurant in London.”
James’s heart is pounding so hard in his chest that it aches. “Send me your location. I’m on the tube, so I’ll be there soon, okay? Don’t worry.”
“Okay.” Regulus breathes shakily. “Could you, um, possibly stay on the line with me?”
“Yes, yes, of course, love. Anything you need. Anything.” James says, noticing the way that Regulus’s voice is quivering.
Regulus exhales, and James wants to scream at the train to go faster. He receives the text from Regulus, thankful that he’s currently going in the right direction. It would be around 15 minutes, which just makes James want to scream again.
“Alright, I’ll be 15 minutes. Don’t worry, Reg. I’m coming.”
Regulus lets out a low whine that makes James clench his fists. “Sirius didn’t answer. Why didn’t he answer?”
“I don’t know, love. He and Remus left earlier to celebrate the end of the tour, so he’s probably just smashed. He would’ve answered, I know it.” James says calmly, hoping he’s helping at least a little.
“You always answer.” Regulus says in a whisper.
“I’ll always answer,” James promises. “No matter what, when you need me, I’ll be there.”
Regulus chokes out a breath and all James wants is to be there. He wants to wrap Regulus tight in his arms and keep him there forever. He could shield him from the pain, from his parents. He could take him away where no one would find him and show him what real love is supposed to look like.
He desperately wants that.
They don’t say much else as James bounces his knee, praying for the train to go faster. Regulus breathes deeply on the other end, and the sound soothes James’s nerves. He’s alright. He’s alive. He’s breathing.
When he gets to his stop, he shoves people out of his way in his rush to get off and takes off in a sprint as he rushes to meet Regulus at the small cafe.
He runs and runs, his heart nearly stopping when he sees a familiar head of dark curls. Then his stomach drops when he sees bruises on his neck and bloody scratches on his arms. His white shirt is stained with his blood.
“Reggie!” James exclaims, running and immediately crushing James in a tight hug.
“Oof.” Regulus wheezes out, his arms coming up to return James’s frantic embrace.
“What happened? Are you alright? Oh my God, your neck. Let’s get you to a hospital.” James frets, his hands sliding from Regulus’s back, to his shoulders, then resting on his cheeks.
“James, James, it’s okay. Please, let’s not go to a hospital. I can’t handle that right now.” Regulus pleads, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. “I was hoping we could just go somewhere I could lie down?”
James bites his lip. He’d feel so much better if he could get Regulus to a doctor, but ultimately, all he wants is for Regulus to be comfortable. He relents instantly. “Okay, okay. Yes, we can go. I don’t have an apartment here, but Sirius and Remus do. They definitely won’t be back till later. We can go there?”
Regulus rocks back and forth on his feet, his hand unconsciously rubbing his neck. The gesture makes James’s heart clench, his fists balling. If he ever saw Walburga again… he might not be stopped. He briefly thinks that he’d gladly go to prison for murder if Regulus never had to deal with this again.
“Alright, let’s go there.” Regulus says.
James nods, his hand reaching out to grab Regulus’s. He looks so small. He’s always been small for his age, but right now, at 16, he reminds James of the small 8-year-old he met all those years ago. It makes his protective instinct take over, his primal need to take care of everyone. Regulus has always been at the top of that list.
“I’ll hail us a cab, okay? Just hold onto me, yeah? We’re gonna be fine.” James says soothingly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on Regulus’s knuckles.
Regulus nods, his eyes distant and glazed over. James can tell he’s not all here from his expression. He always has that expression when he’s upset about something. It breaks James’s fucking heart, honestly.
He hails them a cab and gently helps Regulus inside, never letting go of his hand. The drive is silent and fast, Regulus still obviously not fully there. James just strokes his hand, murmuring that they’re almost there, just hold on, he’s doing so well.
He gives the cabbie a tip before ushering Regulus out and walking him to the apartment. He unlocks the door and they walk in, James instructing Regulus to go lay on the couch while James finds some medical supplies. Thankfully, Sirius and Remus have a small first aid kit in their bathroom. He grabs it and some hydrogen peroxide before walking back to the living room.
“Here, darling.” James says before sitting down next to the younger boy. “Let’s clean up those scratches, hm?”
Regulus nods, his eyes clearer now. He watches as James gently rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal the angry red marks. James holds back a wince, knowing it would only make Regulus feel worse.
“Why don’t you take the shirt off?” Regulus whispers.
James looks up, startled. “Er, did you want me to? I don’t see why we’d have to take it off. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
Regulus releases a strange sound. It sounds like a mixture between crying and laughing. It only makes James even more concerned.
“You’re so perfect, James.” Regulus whispers.
James’s eyes go wide. Did Regulus just… compliment him?
“I am far from it.”
“No. You are. Don’t fight me, I think I’ve seen some of the worst that humanity has to offer, but you… you’re just good. Pure.”
“I wouldn’t call myself pure.” James protests.
Regulus laughs. “Not like that. Just… you always mean well. You’d never cause me any harm.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” James agrees. “That’s quite literally the last thing I’d ever want.”
Regulus looks at him, and it strikes James just how beautiful he is. His eyes, Jesus. So light and delicate. A sort of sage green color. Magnificent.
“See?” Regulus murmurs. “Perfect.”
James flushes. They don’t usually talk to each other like this. Honestly, it’s making James’s embarrassing crush flare up. He’s sitting here, so close to Regulus, breathing in his cedar cologne and desperately wishing to freeze this moment and live in it forever.
“I think you’re perfect.” James admits, his voice catching slightly when Regulus looks up and their nose nearly brush.
Regulus smiles, a sweet smile that James hasn’t seen in years. “You would.”
James blushes, because yeah, he would think that Regulus is perfect. He’s only been obsessed with him forever. No one else comes close to comparing.
He finishes cleaning and bandaging the scratches, his fingers coming up to ghost the bruises on his neck. Regulus sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t push James away. If anything, he sways a bit closer, his eyes fluttering shut. James can’t breathe. Regulus is so fucking beautiful and he’s here with him right now, with his eyes closed and fully trusting and James could weep.
“I want to hurt your parents for this.” James admits in a low whisper.
Regulus cracks his eyes open, his green irises peering at him curiously. “Sometimes I do, too.”
James breathes out a low sound before hugging Regulus again. He just needs to feel him, needs to make sure he’s solid. That he’s real.
“I’m tired.” Regulus admits.
“Sleep, please. I’m not going anywhere.” James promises.
Regulus nods before letting go and scooting down on the couch. Then he does something that James could never see coming. He plops his head right in James’s lap, his arms coming up to hug around James’s knee tightly.
“Can I sleep like this?” Regulus asks.
“Yes, yes. Of course.” James says, his hand coming out to pet Regulus’s hair lightly.
They sit in silence for a while, and James assumes that Regulus is asleep until he hears his soft voice again.
“You’re the only one that still keeps in touch. Why haven’t you given up on me yet?”
James feels tears build in his eyes, a lump rising in his throat to block his airway and make it hard to swallow.
“I will never give up on you. I’m not the giving up type.” James says, his voice firm.
Regulus doesn’t say anything for a moment. “No, I suppose you’re not, Alberto.”
James’s face spreads into a wide smile. “You got the post cards?”
“I got them.”
James relaxes, so infinitely happy to hear that.
“Thank you for them.” Regulus whispers.
James doesn’t reply, instead continuing his petting.
~
James had fallen asleep sometime, and he wakes up to the front door opening, loud voices following it. He opens his eyes to find the room empty. Regulus had left.
But on the coffee table in front of him is a small card. It looks like something he probably bought from a nearby store.
It’s decorated with a beachy landscape, and in small elegant handwriting it says,
Ken,
Thank you. I think maybe my good luck and fortune was sent to me in the form of you.
R. A. B.