3
Sirius dropped his head to the side, struggling to keep up with Mary. She was visiting for the weekend, as she normally does if he’s in and she was telling him the latest; what happened whilst he was away, who broke up, who got together, that sort of thing. Sirius usually always cares for this sort of thing. He literally gets giddy waiting for the weekend if he’s admitted for Mary’s visit or call. He’s a gossip. Sirius won’t deny that. He loves getting to know what's happening with everyone. But, right now, Sirius would quite like Mary to just be quiet for a split moment.
She’s going on about some guy, Benjy something, who tried to get her to go to Hogsmeade with her. Or maybe she’s complaining about Marlene. Sirius can’t tell. Everything sounds the same.
He yawns, not bothering to hide it and he sees Mary catch it. She raises her eyebrows, a smile playing on her face.
“Am I boring you?”
Sirius chuckles, “Glad you caught on.”
Mary shakes her head, her curls falling to her face. “So what would you like to talk about then? Because apparently me going on about Marlene’s daydreams and late night meetings are too boring and lame.”
Sirius perked his head up, “Whatcha mean Marlene’s late night meetings? She’s meeting up with someone?”
“Oh so now you’re interested? I was just going on about this Sirius.”
“Well, you were rambling and you know how I like it when you get straight to the point.”
“That so?”
“Yep.” Sirius said, popping the ‘p’ at the end. Mary grinned at him, swatting his arm. She cleared her throat before continuing.
“She’s sneaky. I’ve tried following her but I never catch up to her in time,” Mary says, “and I’ve tried many times to drag it out of her and nothing comes out. It’s always the same response; “Mary, stop snooping around my shit.””
“Well she does have a point.”
“You quite literally do the same thing. Yet, you play the illness card whenever you’re caught.”
“I do not!” Sirius gaps before laughing and rolling his eyes at her. He certainly does. And it works. Most of the time.
“Maybe James can get something out of her.” Mary suggests, looking around the room. “Where even is James? I thought he’d come out to say hello.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sirius mutters, “probably bothering the nurses or at the gym for god knows why.”
Sirius thought James would come over as well. He’s always friendly like that. He doesn’t stay for long but he’s always coming by to make sure Mary’s alright. Nowadays, Sirius barely knows where James is. He’s always off somewhere. And Sirius doesn’t know where. Usually it would be the gym, where James claims he’s getting ripped and getting ladies to gawk at him (however, Sirius knows that James getting absolutely shredded would lead to him probably dying from his lungs giving out).
He looks for him and never seems to find him until the end of the day, where James lazes off in his room. He never answers his phone either, which is the strangest thing. Sirius has sort of shrugged it off though, James could be just wanting space. Which isn’t unusual and he usually tells Sirius what's been going on with him afterwards. Sirius just needs to be patient.
But Sirius isn’t patient. That’s the problem.
Mary shrugs, brushing off her pants. “Fuck, I could go for a smoke right now.”
Sirius snickers. “Not addicted my arse.”
“I am not addicted. I just would like to smoke.”
Sirius nods before leaning back, resting his head on the cushions. He yawns again, this time hiding it behind his hand. He’s not even tired. He slept fine last night. He always sleeps fine in the hospital even with the uncomfortable beds and the everlasting coldness of the air conditioning running on an all time high. He doesn’t even know why he’s yawning, he doesn’t feel tired. Not physically at least.
Mary sighs before reaching into her bag to pull her phone out. “Trains coming in an hour.”
“You gonna head out?” Sirius asks, knowing the answer already.
“Yeah, I should pop in to say hi to my parents before leaving.” Mary says, turning her phone off. “But, I won’t leave if you don’t want me to.”
“Nah, I’m alright Mary. Had enough of you for one day.”
Mary sticks her tongue out at him before snickering. Sirius sits up a bit.
“Alright then,” Mary mutters, seeming almost hesitant.
“Something caught your tongue?”
Mary shrugs. “Should I be worried?”
Now Sirius properly frowns. “Worried? What for?”
Mary shrugs again, leaning back into the couch. “Dunno. You seemed a bit out of it today. And you're pale as if you haven’t seen the sun in twelve years.”
“I am fine Mary.” Sirius reassures, putting a hand on her arm. “I’m just tired. You know how it is.”
“Yeah.”
“I’d tell you if I was dying or whatever. You know that. I’m completely fine.”
“Yeah, alright.” Mary says, placing a hand over Sirius’ and squeezes. Sirius smiles at that. “I’m sorry. I just- you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Mary nods and stands up, brushing off her pants before bringing Sirius in for a hug. Sirius squeezes tight, not caring about her hair tickling his neck. She’s the one who pulls from the hug first and she gives him one last look before she leaves. Sirius waves bye.
He collapses back onto the couch as she fully leaves the hospital, making her way down the sidewalk and then across the street. Sirius rubs his fingers against his temples, aware of a headache incoming.
Dropping his hands, Sirius looks out to the hallway of nurses and doctors roaming around, walking from room to room, checking their clipboards. Sirius wonders how they remember it all. And if they ever get tired. Not physically. But tired like how Sirius feels. Do their heads ever get that crowded sort of feel? Do their eyes get droopy and form deep circles underneath, feeling as though the skin is tugging their bodies down with intense force?
Sirius continues people watching, trying to distract himself from the headache forming at a fast rate. He could literally get himself a sandwich and a drink and medicine but he just doesn’t feel like moving. Moving seems too big of a movement to take. He’d rather just sit and let it happen. Much easier than getting up, of course.
The hallway gets emptier except, knowing visiting hours are coming to an end. Nurses seem to be rushing people out, probably wanting to fucking disinfect everything and continue to poke and prod at patients. Sirius included. Which is why he should be getting back to his room. His IV pole is waiting for him, waiting to be used and his AffloVest is sitting there as well. Sirius should get back. But, his room seems so far away and this uncomfortable couch is comfortable for once.
He sighs, resting his head in his hand, watching as the hallway is quiet except for the usual nurses knocking on doors to check in. The intercom goes off, telling the remaining visitors to basically fuck off. There’s no movement in the hallway he’s observing.
Finally, he pulls himself together and unsticks himself from the couch. He pulls his bag on, making sure his nasal is on and his mask is over his nose and starts to head to his room, to where he’ll sit there and get pumped with antibiotics and spit out mucus for the rest of the day before taking his meds, dinner and going to bed. But, he stops when he sees a door open. A man, with ruffled brownish hair and a school uniform on, closes the door before him as quietly as he can before sneaking off down the hallway.
Sirius stands there, furrowing his brows, wondering if he should tell someone. But then again, why would he? Not like the guy would get arrested. …Well, would he? Eh, who cares. Probably not. Doesn’t seem like he’s trying to kill someone and sneak off. Sirius doesn’t think at least. He shrugs, mostly to himself before walking to his room.
He’s mostly forgotten about the guy until he’s made it to his room, about to open his door. Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius sees the man again. This time more clearly. He’s got a Hogwarts uniform on and a mask on, covering his mouth and nose as well as gloves. His hair is a mess but looks intentional unlike James’. The man knocks on a door before opening it. The door closes behind him.
At first, Sirius thinks it’s James’ room. Which confuses him. Why would a strange boy enter James’ room? But, after stepping away from his own door and heading down the hall to the room, he sees it’s definitely not James’ room. Which that eases him. But who the fuck is that guy?
Sirius scratches his head, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He fixes his mask, heading back over to his room and walking in, pushing the mysterious man to the back of his thoughts.
-
Pandora sucks on the end of her pen, furrowing her brows. Regulus swats at her hand, knocking the pen out of her grip. She gives him a look.
“I’m not letting you get ink poisoning.”
“You’re so thoughtful.” Pandora goes back to sucking her pen. Regulus rolls his eyes.
“Couldn’t you have done your homework at school?”
“Yes, I could have but I didn’t want to.”
Regulus spins in his chair, bored out of his mind. Pandora has been working on homework since the start of visiting hours. Visiting hours are quite over now, the intercom announcing that and she hasn’t moved. Regulus isn’t forcing her but he would like his space back.
A beat of silence surrounds them and Pandora breaks it, letting out an annoyed groan.
“What’s wrong?” Regulus asks, knowing nothing life threatening is bothering her.
“I don’t want to write this stupid essay.” Pandora mumbles, throwing her pen at the trash can (and missing). “It’s so fucking stupid and when am I gonna need to do this in the real world?”
Regulus shrugs, stopping his spinning. “I mean you never know. It could happen.”
“You aren’t helping.”
“I wasn’t trying to help.”
Pandora rubs her face, dragging her hands down before slamming her head into the mattress. “I should have just gone to Dorcas. Or even Barty, for fuck sake. He would have given me some useful information. Unlike you.”
Regulus smirks. “Barty? Barty Crouch Jr.? Giving you useful information?”
Pandora crumples up her paper and throws it at him (and misses). “Just let me copy yours.”
“No!”
“What do you mean, no? The professors won’t even notice Reg.”
“I’m not giving you my essay.”
“Then at least give me some pointers!” Pandora exclaims, aggressively tucking her hair behind her ears. “Or help me start it because for the last three hours I’ve been just staring at a blank piece of bloody parchment.”
“I tried to help you! You wouldn’t listen.” Regulus laughs, watching as Pandora rolls around his bed.
“Maybe I should just drop out.”
“What would that solve?”
“It would solve me not having to write anymore essays.” Pandora grumbles, staring up at the ceiling.
“Well, yes, it could solve that.” Regulus shrugs, “But what about your dreams of becoming a writer?”
Pandora looks at him. “That was my dream when I was twelve. Now, that’s your dream. I wanna have my own lab and do crazy experiments.”
Regulus brings a leg up to his chest, playing with his shoe laces. “That only happens in books, Panda.” He unties his laces and reties them, “You’re an excellent writer. You have a wild imagination. You could thrive as a writer.”
Pandora blows a raspberry and sticks a big thumbs down. “Nope. I want to make fiction real and blow stuff up and mix chemicals together and create funky potions and make my hair go all crazy.”
“You could write your essay on that.”
“I’m not writing my biology essay on that.”
“Why not? Just relate it to biology and bam. You’ve got yourself full marks.”
Pandora considers that for a moment.
She sighs before turning on her side and pulling out another long piece of parchment and writing something down. Regulus snickers.
“Thanks. I’ll credit you for the idea.”
“I’ve already trademarked it.”
“Oh, shut up.” Pandora mumbles, putting her stuff away in her bag. She rubs at her face again. “I wanna talk about something else. Something not school.”
“Okay, what do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know.”
“Brilliant.”
Pandora frowns at him, resulting in him giving her a smile. She rolls her eyes, playing with her hair.
“Anything new with your treatment?” Pandora asks.
“Nope. Anything new with your treatment?”
“What, you mean my anxiety meds?”
“It was a joke.”
“Oh,” Pandora blinks. “Well, joke or not joke, no my anxiety medication did not change.”
“Well good for you.”
Pandora looks at him. “What’s up with your attitude?”
“My attitude? What are you, my mother?”
“No, your mother’s a cunt. And I am no cunt. But, you’ve been a fucking bitch all day.”
“I’m always a bitch.”
“Well, you’re more bitchy today.” Pandora concludes.
Regulus blinks at that. “Want me to apologize?”
“Yes.”
“I’m so sorry.” Regulus puts a hand to his heart, trying to form a few tears but failing. “I am truly, so sorry.”
Pandora snickers, shaking her head. “Shut up.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, grinning to himself.
“But, seriously, is everything okay with your meds and stuff?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He questions, spinning in his chair again, “It probably won’t change until I do get new lungs so I’ll update you when someone dies or is brain dead and donates their lungs to me.”
“Is that really how it works?”
Regulus shrugs, stopping the chair from turning, “Pretty much. In the simple version.”
“Then how haven’t you gotten lungs?” Pandora asks. “People die everyday.”
“It’s more complex.”
“How? You literally just told me that someone just has to die and you’ll get lungs. How is that complicated?”
“There’s stuff that goes-” Regulus cuts himself off. “You know what, there’s no point in telling you.”
Pandora’s mouth drops, “What? What did I do? I’m asking a question and expecting a long, detailed, boring, month-long response.”
“Exactly why I’m not going to tell you.”
“Alright, fair enough.” Pandora chuckles, playing with her hair. Regulus turns, looking out the window.
“You’re doing that thing again.”
“Hm?”
Regulus turns back to Pandora, who is now properly sitting on the bed. She points to his fingers tapping on the long tubes of his nasal cannula. As soon as Regulus notices, he stops, placing his hands under his thighs.
“You do that when you're anxious about something.” Pandora mumbles, swinging her feet.
“Do I?” Regulus asks, unaware Pandora knew that. Of course he knew that. He’s been doing that since the day he started having to carry about a portable oxygen tank. But, it’s not always about anxiousness. Sure, it started from that, since his parents would scold him if he bounced his legs. But, afterwards it rooted into more of a natural, comfort habit. So, it’s still linked to anxiousness in a way, but Regulus does it more for comfort and reassurance.
“You do.” She confirms.
“Thanks for the observation.”
Pandora squints at him, before tilting her head just a tad bit to the left. “Is this why you’ve been all moody?”
“I’m always moody. You tell me this everyday.”
“Well yes, but you’re moodier.” Pandora blinks at him, “You hear what I’m saying?”
“Not really.” Regulus mutters.
“Just tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Nothing’s bothering me!”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me.” She says, turning her head to glance out the window.
“You’re going to miss the train.”
“So? I wanna know what’s bothering you.”
A knock comes from the door, perking both of their heads towards the direction. At first, Regulus thought it was Poppy. He is supposed to be hooked up to his Alfo-Vest right about now, but he would rather do that when he’s alone. It’s not that flattering spitting out mucus every other second and coughing violently.
Pandora looks at him, unsure what to do. But, when the door opens, it reveals Remus, shrugging off his mask as he closes the door behind him.
“What? Did I interrupt something?”
Pandora snorts. “The stubborn sicko isn’t telling me what’s bothering him.”
“Because nothing’s bothering me.”
“Something’s always bothering you, Regulus.” Remus snickers, coming over to sit next to Pandora on the bed.
“Fine, but nothing dangerous or life threatening is bothering me at this moment in time,” Regulus exclaims, having enough of this conversation. “I’m great.”
Not entirely true. Just breathing doesn’t feel right to Regulus. He feels itchy, almost. Like there’s a really annoying itch underneath his skin and he can’t get to it. On top of that, his G-Tube irritation just seems to be getting worse. The cream didn’t do anything really. Which really worries Regulus. It’s bright red, and burns to every touch. Just putting on a shirt makes him wince in pain as it brushes against it. He should really get someone to check it out.
Pandora and Remus have started their own little conversation, no doubt catching up as they both rarely see each other in school. Regulus and Pandora both have entirely different classes with Remus and Remus in general is just older. He sticks mostly with his age group and class and Regulus and Pandora sticks to theirs (except Dorcas. That’s an exception).
Regulus turns back to the window, teeth finding his bottom lip and pulling at the cracked skin. He doesn’t pride himself in his peeling, bloody lips but it’s helpful then picking at something else. And, supposedly, Pandora wants to know what’s bothering Regulus so holding onto his nasal is not a go to move here. But in all honestly, Regulus wants to tell her. He just wants to let someone know that he’s fucking filled with overwhelming anxiety and the crazy itch that won’t go away. The feeling of losing control and going insane over the thoughts racing through his head.
He knows that Pandora would understand. She knows everything about Regulus, it’s honestly no surprise she knew about the finger tapping. Pandora notices everything, small tiny details in all her friends but mainly Regulus. Regulus closes himself off, he actually takes pride in that. He learned from a young age that it was better to be closed off and quiet, to hold his tongue and shelter himself than to allow someone to be able to flip through him like a book. But, Pandora saw right through that. From the time they first arrived at school and how she introduced herself, not even caring Regulus didn’t shake her hand or talk to her. Just chatted to him and pointed things out to him. Things at the time, Regulus wasn’t aware of.
Pandora’s one of the few good things in Regulus’ life and he should tell her. Tell her that this hospital visit is actually driving him fucking insane. His entire sense of control is being screwed up. His limits are getting tested. And he doesn’t know why. That’s the fuck of it all. Why does he feel like this? This isn’t his first hospital visit. This isn’t something new. Why is he feeling like this?
Remus said something, causing Pandora to laugh before he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her tight. Remus never has been the touchy sort. But, Pandora just brings that out in people. Then, he stands up and pats Regulus’ on the shoulder before leaving. He swallows.
“Oh, I’ve missed Remus.” Pandora says, smiling at the door as if she can still see Remus.
“Are you heading out too?” He wipes his palms on his sweatpants.
“In a bit. Remus is still going to check in on his mum and get a few supplies before catching his train,” She notes, bringing her legs to her chest and properly facing Regulus. “I’m gonna head to the train with him, so whenever he’s ready.”
He nods. Pandora tilts her head.
“Alright?”
“Hm? Yeah, I’m okay.”
She nods, slowly. Regulus sees she’s hesitant but isn’t pushing it.
A beat of silence goes by. Regulus looks down, picking at his fingernails. He should just say something, something to release the heaviness in his chest and to just finally tell someone something.
“I might have to go into surgery.”
Regulus bites his tongue. Why did he start with that? He could have said something simpler, something like that this hospital visit is a pain in the neck or just so fucking annoying. But no, he has to go for something that has him so terrified, so fearful.
He looks at Pandora who hasn’t moved nor said anything. She just seems to be collecting her thoughts.
He swallows. “My G-Tube- it looks infected. Could be nothing, really.”
“Is that the thing-” She points to the side of her stomach. Regulus quickly nods.
“And-” Regulus looks away from Pandora, his face burning, “I don’t know. I just feel-”
He can’t seem to get a word out. He tries to use his hands, make something look intense, chaotic but it doesn’t do the feeling justice. He should have never said anything.
“I could be here,” Pandora says, “for the surgery. If you need it.”
“Only if you can.” Regulus says. “I don’t want to force you to come down if I do have to get it.”
He swallows, feeling the tightness of his throat become overwhelmingly uncomfortable. He can’t even think about the surgery. He’s had tons of surgeries, he has a shit ton of scars to prove it but it’s always scary. The feeling of going under and waking up. The hidden voice warning him that this time, however, he might not wake up. It’s not even the procedure that scares him though. It’s the anesthesia. Getting put under. It’s terrifying.
She shifts on the bed. Regulus watches as she plays with the end of her pants, tugging at a loose string. He doesn’t know what else to say.
“Maybe you could find out what’s messing you up? What making you feel so…” She motions her hands in the same movement as Regulus did earlier.
“That’s the thing, I have no fucking idea. I can’t figure it out.” He says, frustrated.
“Do you have an idea?”
He shrugs, his head tilting down to stare at his lap. His face is burning. It has to be the same color as his infected G-Tube.
“Well, if I were you, I would try every lead. Be a detective for the day.” She says. Regulus looks back up to her.
“Make it fun.” She smiles, “Don’t stress yourself out about it, just try and find it. And if you can’t, let it pass. Let it smoothly pass, don’t force it.”
He blinks at her.
“I could help you since I’m still here.” She suggests. “But if you’d rather search for it on your own, then just tell me.”
He nods, “yeah, I’d rather that.”
“Okay.” She lets out a quiet exhale.
“Okay.” He repeats, not knowing what else to say.
A moment of silence passes. Regulus feels uncomfortable.
“Do they still have that big tank of fishes here?”
Regulus snorts. “Yes. They do.”
“Take me there?”
-
The gentle strings of a guitar strum in his ear. Chords play, evenly and slow, quietening down after every strum. It quiets James’ mind, puts him to sleep. It’s the only way he can fall asleep. Listening to calm, gentle music. Usually he listens to a guitar though since he’s known how to play since he was young. Brings him a sort of peace of mind.
However, a knock from his door disrupts his peace. He half expects it to be Sirius, trying to get him to annoy Minnie or Poppy. But, when James checks the time, there’s no way in hell Sirius would be knocking on the door. He’d be asleep, blanket tucked to his chin, stuffed dog in his arm as a movie plays extremely loudly in the background. James actually has no idea how Sirius falls asleep to that.
He grabs his glasses, noticing how dark it is, before walking over to the door. He racks his brain for who could be knocking at this time. Minnie? But Minnie never comes in at night. Not usually, unless he’s violently ill to make sure he hasn’t gotten worse. Poppy could be knocking, bringing in a new regimen. But, Poppy isn’t on shift tonight. Well, at least James doesn’t think she is.
When he opens the door, James makes a face. He blinks, making sure he’s seeing what he’s seeing. Regulus Black is standing at his door. He’s wearing two masks, tightly secured over his nose and mouth. His nasal is clipped on and James can hear the oxygen tank whistling slightly. Maybe he should remind Regulus to charge it. Traveling down, Regulus has on actual scrubs. He’s got three pairs of gloves on, which has to break some sort of record and he’s got a notepad in his hand with a little pen attached.
James stands there for a moment, dumbfounded.
“Uh-” He starts, trying to collect his thoughts, “What is this?”
“Back up.”
James takes a few steps back, ensuring they’re at least five feet apart.
“I need to see your regimen.”
“Sorry?” James snorts. “Why? You wanna compare and contrast. I’ll tell you right now-”
“James. Please.”
James watches as Regulus’ free hand travels up to the long clear tubes from his nasal and gently wraps his fingers around one. He then taps twice before taking a second and then does the same thing again. James once again, blinks.
“Um. Okay, one moment.” He says, quickly trying to remember where he put it.
He wanders to his medcart, pushing away containers and bottles before finding a piece of paper. He looks at it before realizing it’s Marlene’s homework. Whoops. He goes underneath the medcart, looking at the smaller shelves, seeing if it’s under some bottles or tubs of creams and such. He still can’t find it.
James scratches at his head, looking over at his desk filled with knick knacks and trinkets and such. He pushes some books away and moves an old bottle of water to the trash. After lifting his pencil pouch, he finds it.
His face slightly burns when he sees the state of it. It’s all crumpled and it has small doodles all over it. Some math has even been written on it and the corners are all ripped off. How long has this been sitting there?
He comes back over to Regulus, who grabs it from him, rather rudely. James shakes it off and he watches the color drain from Regulus’ face as he scans over the regimen. He can even see the poor boy's hands start trembling slightly.
“What-”
“Sorry… I guess I just didn’t realize it’s been misplaced and such.”
“You didn’t realize?!”
James opens his mouth to say something but closes it, inspecting Regulus just a tad bit further. He genuinely looks like he’s about to have some sort of panic attack or seizure for that matter. He watches as Regulus swallows rather roughly and his eyelids shut down on his eyes.
“Regulus?”
“Just-”
James stays quiet. He watches as Regulus stands there, hands still trembling, gripping onto the paper. His knuckles are white. Should James do something?
Before he can even think of what he could do, Regulus snaps out of whatever daze he went into and tosses James’ regimen onto the floor. He then storms off, quickly going down the hall.
“What- Hey!” James calls, looking between his regimen and Regulus.
He tsks, grabbing his bag with his portable oxygen tank neatly inside and clips on his nasal cannula. Sliding on his shoes, he barely makes it out of his room when he sees Regulus turning down the hallway, towards the elevator. James sighs to himself before walking as fast as he can, his heart already pounding in his chest and his lungs struggling to keep up.
James turns the corner, coughing quickly into his elbow when he sees Regulus slamming his finger into the button. He walks up to him, swallowing thickly through mucus caught in his throat. This is not a good time to be projecting out thick, slimy goo.
“What was that all about?” James asks, his eyebrows furrowing.
“Nothing. Go away.”
“You asked for my regimen, I deserve to know.”
“I just wanted to check something.” Regulus snaps, not even bothering to turn to James.
“What did you need to check?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, c’mon.” James says, ruffling his hair. “Just tell me!”
“I already told you, I checked something.”
“Okay and what did you fucking check?”
“Nothing!”
The elevator beeps. The doors open.
James groans watching as Regulus steps in. James, still wanting to know, is about to take another step forward when Regulus, quite literally, throws a hand up. His other hand is too busy pressing the close door button.
“Six feet.” He practically shouts.
James watches as the doors close and the numbers go up. He blinks in confusion and annoyance before heading to the stairs. But he stops himself at the last minute. He exhales, leaning against the wall, fighting down a cough but losing and coughing into his elbow. James shakes his head and leaves, heading back to his room.
-
Regulus flexes his fingers, trying to get the ache out of them. Though, there isn’t any ache. It’s almost imagination, really. It’s just him being messed up and feeling so fucking-.
He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t even know how he could describe this feeling, this lostness, this confusion and it itches. It itches so bad and Regulus just wants to scratch it. Scratch it until his nails leave deep marks and it burns from the draft in the building. Until it scars and he can view it as a past memory instead of a present one. Because, holy fucking shit, Regululs needs to scratch it, or at least locate it, but he can’t. And it’s killing him.
He yanks his nasal off, the prongs pulling at his nose but he ignores it, just completely yanking it off without a care in the world. He can’t think right now. His head is so clouded with just the image of James’ regimen. That was actually one of the worst things he has ever seen. How could James be like that? How could he let something so important become scrap paper? Something on the side that he can doodle on as he calls his friends or gets bored when he does his homework. How could he do that? That paper could literally save his life. It’s crucial to his recovery, to his plan to beating B. Cepacia. How could James let that happen?
Regulus feels lightheaded. He wants to throw up and then take a dozen showers until the feeling of vomit disappears and his skin burns from the hot water. He wants to brush his mouth out with minty backwash until his entire mouth is filled with sores and it burns to even swallow. He wants to mess up his medcart, throw every pill into the toilet and watch as he flushes, as his entire life support drains underneath him. He doesn’t want to do this anymore. He wants all of this to stop.
He thought viewing James’ regimen would help him. Maybe it would cross out a potential idea that is messing him up. Messing him up real bad. Messing up is too light of a phrase. Fucking up. That’s much better. Fucking him up real bad.
After seeing it, after seeing how horrible James has been treating his plan, Regulus knows. He knows this is what has been fucking him up. It all makes sense. The moment he came here, James Potter rang around in his head. It’s like he knew. It all makes sense, how after James told him about him struggling to take his medication and care for his treatment, Regulus has been spiraling out of fucking control.
He can’t live like this. He doesn’t know when he’ll be out of the hospital. Hopefully soon. Fuck, Regulus prays it’s soon. He can’t take it. But, deep down, he knows this isn’t something that can pass, as Pandora had said earlier. It’s not something that he could sweep under the rug and forget about. No, it’ll follow him everywhere. Follow him and lag behind him and flood into his mind and destroy him. Regulus has to do something about this, he can’t just let it sit there. He can’t let it just fuck him up so badly.
How is he supposed to fix this? He can’t shove the pills down James’ throat. He can’t physically force James to do his AffloVest or sit with his IV pole and let his body take in antibiotics. He can’t. It’s not something he could do, even if he wanted to. And he so wants to. But, he can’t because he needs to get new lungs. He needs to. James could ruin his entire plan for new lungs. So, why is he even helping this idiot? He should just let James sit there and be petty and not do his medication. Not do his treatment, not do his plan, not do anything. Just let James sit there and wait for death to take him. Let his lungs dry out and stop working.
Regulus could never do that. He can’t just sit here and know James isn’t following his fucking plan. He’d die before James ever did.
What if Regulus just finds James’ parents and tells them? He knows where James lives, it’s not that hard. Regulus could do it. He could beg them to save their child’s life, for his sake, for their sake, for Sirius’ sake, for whoever’s sake. Just make James do his plan. But, what if they already know and can’t do anything about it? James is practically an adult. He has the ability to decline and do whatever he feels like doing. If he goes to Poppy or Minnie, it would be the same deal. Fuck, why couldn’t James be the younger one here? Then, drugs would be forced down his fucking throat without hesitation.
He shakes his head, his bottom lip trembling. He doesn’t know what to do. This is pure hell. Pure. Hell.
His phone goes off and he pulls it out of his pocket with shaky hands. A message from Dorcas floods onto his screen but he ignores it. He’ll respond tomorrow. And he’s also more interested in the time.
3 AM.
He’s been here for three hours. Just laying on this cold, uncomfortable couch with the itch that he can’t scratch and the trembling of his hands. With the ringing of his ears and the thoughts in his head just being present and screaming at him. With the tears and the silent sobs as he helplessly feels like his lungs are going to collapse because of James Potter.
Everything is James Potter’s fault.
Slowly though, he pulls himself up. His joints crack and pop before he stands. He rubs his hands down his face, rubbing away the dried tears that stuck to his cheeks and ripped away the masks, not caring at the moment that he’s in the NICU where he should be masked up and gloved up. He slings up his bag and hooks it over his shoulder.
Even though he shouldn't, especially now since he doesn't have a mask on nor gloves, he walks towards the glass, looking out to the quiet babies sleeping soundly. Not a care in the world. Why couldn’t he be like that? What went wrong when he was a baby? Why wasn’t he this peaceful? Regulus could bet he was the one baby in the corner, sobbing his heart out, instead of sleeping and resting up.
He lays a hand on the glass, tears threatening to spill but he shakes his head, fighting against it. This time he wins, and he lets his eyes dry over. He takes one last look at the babies before leaving, the door swinging behind him as he walks to the nearest elevators.
Regulus slams his thumb into the button, tapping his foot as he waits impatiently for the elevator to come up and grab him. Being in there for three hours gave him time to think. To cry and to just let himself be vulnerable for a split second. He doesn’t regret it, surprisingly. Maybe he needed a good cry. A ding fills his ears and the elevator doors open. Regulus steps inside.
He heads to his room as soon as the elevators let him out. Thankfully nobody came in with him. He might have just left and used the stairs and suffer the coughing attacks. It would be better than standing in there, maskless and vulnerable and in risk of catching another illness.
He doesn’t avoid James or his brother’s room, because why should he. James is already fucking up his life, it doesn’t matter at this point that he should avoid the rooms. And it's not like either of them would come out and try to pester him. It’s way too late for one of them to be awake. As much as they claim to be rebellious, the latest they’ll stay up is around eleven.
Though, walking to his room and looking at the two doors gave him an idea. A terrible idea. A fucking horrendous idea. But, it could work. It could, if he tries really hard and they both put in the effect to make this work. It could work.
This plan is absolutely awful though. It involves a certain somebody Regulus does not want to even see. But, this could fucking work. Does he do it? Even if it might kill him to just look at this somebody in the face for the first time in years?
Regulus stalls, just standing in the hallway as he chews on his nails, deciding whether or not to go with this plan he has just summoned into his head. Should he sleep it off and decide in the morning? Talk it over with Remus or Pandora? His other friends? Ask Poppy if this is a good idea? Just not do it at all?
Fuck it.
Regulus walks over to Sirius’ door and knocks.