Regulus black has always been drowning.
Drowning in what was expected of him. But Sirius was there to pull him back up.
Then drowning in what his brother expected of him. But James was there to pull him back up.
And now, now he’s drowning again. But there is no one to pull him back up.
The cave is darkening with every second that passes. Regulus sent kreacher away because one of them should survive. And it’s not going to be him. It was never going to be him. He is the savior. He doesn’t get saved. That’s just his life. He was born to be the spare. The spare heir. The spare brother. The spare friend. The spare lover. Never the one. Always the spare.
Regulus thinks he should be regretting how he did things, wishing he could have done them differently. But he isn’t. Because 17 years is a lot to regret.
Regulus is having trouble breathing now. There is only so much oxygen in a cave and he is running out. He is going to pass out any second now, he thinks. No, he mentally corrects himself, he is going to die any second now.
It doesn’t really feel like what he thought it would feel like. He always thought dying would be painful. Not painful like his mother’s well practiced crucio. But painful like how it was realizing that Sirius was gone, realizing that James was gone after he got the mark.
It wasn’t like any of that though. It was peaceful. Dying was peaceful. Regulus who never had had a moment of peace in his life felt peace moments before his death. It was ironic. Regulus would have laughed if he hadn’t already died.