7
The window opens with a click, the full moon gazing straight into the room, filling the space with a tinted sort of blue light.
Remus rubs his hands together, the cold air flowing in and circling around the small room, combining with the air conditioning on the highest fucking setting. He shivers as his skin gets abused to the harsh wind.
It’s been a few hours, the night finally settling in and creating a calm atmosphere for the room he’s been hiding in. As he said before, Remus stayed awake, alert to his surroundings. He perked his head up to every sound that came from the outside hallway, getting ready to launch out from under the cover, trying his best not to disturb the sleeping boy next to him, and hide in the bathroom.
Surprisingly, no one came in until much later. Remus had almost been asleep, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Sirius’ back, the faint buzzing of the television running, the soft breaths the boy let out, clear but strained at the same time. He was comfortable on his side, facing Sirius’ thin face, observing every detail in the dark room, trying to count every eyelash, every small hidden freckle, every line by his mouth and eyes. He was content, feeling calmer than ever, not afraid of the night and what he would see when he closed his eyes.
It was ruined though, very quickly. The sound of footsteps, faintly muted from the television and Remus’ comfort arrived at the door, blocking the small bit of light coming through the crack. Thankfully, Remus noticed and jumped out of bed, rushing into the bathroom as the door opened.
As Sirius had said, it was Poppy. She checked his vitals, feeling his forehead and picked up the blanket that made its way to the floor. She had staggered, looking around the room and at one point, towards the bathroom, but she didn’t hint any sort of expression that she had seen Remus. He had taken that as a win and when she left, he came out, feeling winded from the sudden movement, his leg aching as a result.
Remus now, wants a smoke. He didn’t even know if he could open the windows of Sirius’ room. He assumed he couldn’t because, well- this is a hospital. They’re trying to save lives, not end them. But, to his surprise, it opened. Not by choice, Remus sort of forced it open but hey, it’s opened. If they didn’t want the window to be opened, they should have installed better guard locks.
He leans his head out, the window pushing at his curls, blowing them off his forehead and his eyes open, the brisk air airing them out. It feels nice though, much better than the smell of bleach and cleaning products constantly getting sprayed and thrown around in this god awful place. The moon is an excellent touch as well, not covered by any clouds or smoke, being right in the center, showing its presence and letting people know it’s out and fuller than ever.
Gorgeous.
He pulls himself back into the room, digging in his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter. Yes, Remus knows this is a very bad idea, especially being in a hospital and being in the same room as a CFer. But, Remus needs something to clear his head, buzz away the stress and empty his thoughts, his body, his mind, his everything. His head is a mess, shoving every thought and feeling back into his body, allowing him to relieve everything and as Regulus had said previously; resurface.
Everything is resurfacing. Every feeling, every thought, every doubt, every worry. Remus hates it.
If only he had just spent the rest of his evening with his mother, pushing the boy with dark curls and crystal blue eyes, pale skin with boney features, loopy smile and crooked teeth, out of his head. He would have proved Regulus wrong, that nothing was happening with him. He was just being friendly.
But he wasn’t. Remus had instantly known when he had seen Sirius again, viewing him more clearly, touching him, actually talking to him that nothing had gone away. It had just been repressed, hidden away because Remus knew nothing would come from it.
And here he was, hiding from the adults, being in the same room as his childhood crush; in the same bed, touching, talking, breathing each other's air. It was insane to think about, it made his head stutter and stammer, made him stupid and reckless, hungry and careless.
Remus needs to smoke. Now.
He places the cig in between his lips, the texture familiar and providing him instant comfort. Remus’ joints loosen, the ache in his leg calming at a quick rate, his mind empties- now thinking all about the fag in his mouth, wanting to breathe it in and puff out the white smoke into the clear air, letting it surround the moon. His lighter flips in his hand, catching it every time, the touch tingling his skin.
Leaning out the window, he covers the end of the cigarette with one hand and uses the other to flick his lighter on, letting the fire touch the butt. With a few tries, it finally catches, Remus instantly sucking in.
He could cry out and moan.
Remus tries his best to keep the smoke from entering the room, pushing it outwards into the night sky. He knows this is inappropriate, he knows that. Sirius literally has a lung issue. Why is he fucking smoking in his room? Why is he even smoking in a goddamn hospital? But, Remus fights down the guilt, knowing he’s seen Sirius with Mary, huddling close to her as she smokes, the same as he’s doing now. Sirius wouldn’t mind. Hopefully.
Tapping the end of the fag, Remus tilts his head, catching a glimpse of the boy in bed. He’s on his stomach, long black curls sprawled around the pillow and on his back. The moonlight shines perfectly on his face, showing off the sharp edge of his jawline, the bump on his nose, his lashes resting neatly on his cheeks, the drool on his cheek, his nasal cannula hooked onto his nostrils.
His skin seems to glisten in the tinted light- glowing almost. His lips pop out, the faint red being the brightest warm color to contrast all the cool colors. The cracks in his lips show worry and anxiety and Remus wants to smooth out the ache, place balm on them and let them heal, allowing Sirius to relax and take a breath. His teeth, slightly crooked up close and a healthy tinted yellow but from afar, seem straight as a line and a loud white.
Remus shakes his head, a warmth sensation crawling up his neck and coating his entire face. He looks away, gazing back at the moon and far away stars, taking another drag of his cigarette.
The wind gets harsher, seeming to want Remus to close the window and put out his cig. But, Remus lets it blow on, causing him to shiver every few moments but it’s worth it, feeling the burn of the take in and the relaxation as he lets it out. It’s freeing, his mind instantly cleared and for once, he can fucking think instead of focusing on every little thing about Sirius; the scent of pine and chocolate, nail polish and laundry detergent, mint and wool, the smoothness of his skin, the bone that sticks out in his wrists, his pupils being slightly different sizes.
It’s madness.
A soft yawn alerts Remus along with the shuffling of blankets and sheets. He tilts his head, tapping the end of his fag against the window as he glances at Sirius, half awake. His eyelids droop halfway down, and a childish grin stretches across his face, his cheeks tinted a light pink. He’s rolled onto his back, looking fully at Remus.
“Did I wake you?” Remus whispers, throat impossibly tight. He tries swallowing.
Sirius shrugs, running both his hands down his face, looking incredibly soft. He looks young, as if he just woke up from the sun, getting prepared to hang out with his friends all day outside in mud and dirt. His hands tremble and Remus notices Sirius shiver slightly.
He opens his mouth to say something, but Sirius drops his hands, eyes fully open. His blue eyes look right at him, and Remus believes if he was closer, he could see his reflection. The moon shines against them, lighting them up and creating a glow, looking beautiful and ethereal.
The hollow of his cheeks stand out, showing off Sirius’ sharp cheekbones and Remus-
Remus needs to smoke.
-
“Aren’t you cold?” Sirius asks, knowing damn well he’s shaking.
Remus snickers, a small smile appearing on his face. He shrugs, “I’m alright.”
“What’re you doing?”
“Smoking,” Remus says, “You don’t mind right?”
“No, do whatever.” Sirius half shrugs, sitting up slightly.
His body aches, his joints and muscles protesting with every movement and tiny ounce of strength used. Sirius has to bite his tongue not to cry out or grunt from the pain. He looks back at Remus, finally processing that the window is open.
“How’d you do that?”
Remus lets out a puff of smoke, directing it right outside the window. “Do what?”
“The window. How’d you get it open?”
“I just pulled it open.”
Sirius frowns at him, bringing his knees to his chest. He hugs them close, trying to spread his body heat around.
Remus continues to smoke, Sirius watching from his bed. They go silent, the only sound surrounding them is the harsh wind and the sound of Remus breathing out white clouds. Sirius doesn’t mind, he’s comfortable, trying to get warmer. He would tell Remus to close the windows, but it feels nice, surprisingly.
The cold wind airs out his room, allowing the small space to release its sickly smell of Sirius rotting for days in bed as well as the thick smell of cleaning supplies. The smell of bleach slowly grows less, instead smelling like the beginning of winter.
Sirius won’t admit it, but the shine of the moon, glowing down into the hospital room, lights Remus up. He looks incredible against the moonlight, his scars being the main attention. They pop out in an attractive way, making him look fucking striking. They gleam in the dark room, only light provided by the moon. The paleness of them look intentional against his tan skin, blooming across his exposed skin.
The way Remus handles his cigarette, amazes Sirius. He watches, face flushed with impossible emotions as he fumbles around with it, the fag sitting between his pointer finger and middle, his wrist loose and limp, as if he’s done this for years. When Remus pulls it up to his mouth, his pink lips surround it, gently but firm, sucking in. His cheeks suck inwards, exposing his cheekbones and proudly showing them off in a lazy way and Sirius watches, closely, observing every moment as if he was going to copy Remus.
“Full moon,” Remus says, interrupting Sirius’ thoughts.
“Really?”
Sirius pulls himself out of bed, feet landing on the cool tile floor, the feeling crawling up his legs to his upper body and he tries (and fails) to hide a shiver. His body cries out, aching from the movement and the brisk air bites at his skin.
“You’re gonna be cold.”
“I’m already cold.” Sirius mutters.
He walks up besides Remus, trembling slightly from the ruthless wind, letting the world know winter is coming quick and fast. Remus makes room for him, moving to the side and Sirius’ shoulder touches his as they both lean out the window, gazing up at the sky.
“Wow.” Sirius mumbles, jaw slack from the beautiful view he has. It’s clear in the sky, not a sign of clouds or smoke, planes or jets, just a vast open sky, dark as shadows and possibilities. Tiny dots fill the sky and Sirius can instantly recognize most of the stars, the pang in his heart catching up with him again. But, he ignores it as he flickers his eyes to the most prominent feature in the sky; the moon.
“Wow.” Remus repeats, voice breathy. “Fucking beautiful.”
Sirius looks at Remus. “Beautiful is lightly put.”
Remus nods in agreement, taking a drag of his cigarette. Sirius watches, so close to Remus, he sees every small crinkle by his mouth, the point of his cheekbones, a sliver of his teeth as he blows smoke out.
The wind snaps Sirius out of his gaze, his neck twitching and his hands instantly going up to rub his arms, letting the thick wool fabric become his main focus. He watches as Remus seems to breathe in the cool air, letting the wind slap him in the face with ease. Then, Sirius slowly remembers he’s wearing Remus’ jumper.
His face feels warm. “Shit, I’m still wearing your sweater.”
“Yeah, I gave it to you.” Remus says, his eyes flicking over to Sirius.
“You want it back?”
Remus laughs, his nose slightly wrinkling. “Sirius, you’re shaking. Keep it.”
“Are you sure? I can-”
“Sirius.” Remus gently says. “I’m telling you, you can continue wearing it.”
He nods, blinking. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Sirius shivers again, teeth clattering.
“You’re freezing.”
“Am not.”
Remus puts out his cig, rubbing the butt against the outside wall. He places it on the window ledge before wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist, bringing him closer.
“This okay?” Remus asks. Sirius is already latching onto Remus, trying to bring him impossibly closer.
“Yeah. It’s okay.”
-
James had said the wrong thing.
Apparently.
Well, James doesn’t really know, actually. He thinks he has. But, does James know what he said? Nope.
After finally getting to draw Regulus, James stuck around, following Regulus around just because he could. He went to the NICU with him, getting lectured about some interesting fact about babies and something James doesn’t quite remember. He got a snack with Regulus, of course from the vending machine. They went to the atrium and people watched– well James people watched. Regulus judged.
And then the next day, James called Regulus as he has been doing. He was joking around, telling him stuff he had overheard from the nurses office, talking about Sirius and how he saw Remus leaving his room midday. And then, Regulus had hung up, with no explanation.
James had texted him, asking if his phone had died or some connection issue had interrupted them.
He got no response.
It’s been three days.
Now, James knows Regulus. Well, sort of. They aren’t the closest of people, but James does have a sense about Regulus and how he is. And so, James has come to the conclusion that he must have said something that either offended Regulus or bothered him or upset him or whatever. Now, he isn’t positive this is the answer but it’s a real good guess since it seems as though Regulus has finally blocked his number and is back to avoiding James.
James still calls Regulus, hoping maybe Regulus will answer and James can ask what he did to upset him, but every day leads to a deadcall. Regulus hasn’t answered once since he hung up that day. He does his meds alone, sad that Regulus isn’t here to watch and encourage James but he does them anyway, ignoring that looming feeling crawling back to his senses.
He tries to look for him. James has never been able to find him. He goes to the NUCI on a daily basis, trying to see if he can catch him going through but Regulus is clever and somehow has eyes everywhere. He goes to the atrium, trying to see if Regulus is trying to get a snack from a vending machine or talking with a younger patient, helping them through their fears. James even finds Poppy, very vaguely asking her where Regulus would be.
She never gives him anything.
During the day, James works on tiny little drawings, mostly of stick figures that look like him and Regulus. He usually writes a huge ‘SORRY’ on it before signing his name and then traveling over to Regulus’ door. Sometimes he’ll grab a small treat from the vending machines and then slip both the drawing and snack underneath his door. He can’t tell if Regulus is even looking at them, but he hopes he is. Maybe when he’s ready, he’ll talk to James again.
James has even gone to Sirius, who is still locked behind his room, looking pale as a vampire and ill as ever. He walks around eggshells when talking to Sirius about the subject of Regulus, knowing they ended on a bad note. Sirius is still a bit touchy over the thing they both had. Regulus just refuses to talk about it, ignoring James whenever he talks about his brother.
Three whole days without Regulus and James is miserable. Talking to Regulus became a part of his routine. He liked talking with Regulus, it was different then talking to any of his other friends. He could be more… open and free with what he wants to say, knowing that Regulus won’t joke about it or look uncomfortable.
James misses him. He lazes around his room all day, walking out only to go on a search for Regulus. He doesn’t look forward to his treatment anymore, going back to the dreadful feeling of when his alarm goes off, knowing he’ll just be sitting in silence either spooning pudding and pills to his mouth, being upside down with his AffloVest or sitting with his IV pole, looking at his laptop with a frown.
James doesn’t know what to do.
-
Regulus is pissed at James.
The itch has arrived, settling neatly under his skin once more as Regulus scratches, rough and hard, trying to get rid of it. It burns, feeling as though a needle is stuck, twirling around in his veins and bones, poking and prodding him, causing him complete agony.
He fully blames James for the itch to come back. Everything once again feels wrong and out of place. Regulus can’t seem to get a sense of grounding anymore. He’s livid, having his life become easier for about a week and a half before James had to ruin it, bringing it back to square one.
Regulus has returned to ignoring and avoiding James. He walks, checking every corner before continuing down a hallway. He checks in with nurses, asking if they’ve seen James walk past or mumble where he’s going. He keeps out of eye view and stays in the normally empty corridors, walking in a fast manner, burning his lungs with every step.
He rots away in his room most days, knowing James is looking for him. The things he slides underneath his door tells him everything he needs to know. He steps on them, not bothering to pick them up or at least save the snacks for later. Regulus takes his anger out on them, throwing the sugary treats at the floor, breaking it, tossing some of the drawings in the trash, stomping his dirty trainers on the snacks and papers.
Regulus wishes James would get the hint that he doesn’t want to talk to him anymore. The little thing they had created is gone because James can’t fucking stop talking about dying.
Sure, it’s funny the first time or when Regulus had hated James at first. But, the second and third times? The times after that? It’s no longer funny, it’s just plain fucking annoying and cruel. And bringing it up as a conversation starter? Really, James? For what reason?
Regulus isn’t scared of dying. He isn’t. Growing up with Cystic Fibrosis has taught him early in life that he isn’t living a long life. Most Cfer’s don’t even live to their twenties. Some die before that. Some never get lungs, some do but still die. It’s a simple thing to grasp when Regulus lives with death looming over him every waking moment.
The issue isn’t dying per say. Regulus just, can’t die. He can’t. He needs to live a long life. Long to marry and have offspring's, carry on the Black Family reputation, make sure his parents have an heir, and keep the family in check. He cannot die. He can’t. Regulus would literally force himself to come back to life if his lungs failed one day.
What would happen to his family if he died? Would Sirius be forced to come home? Beaten and punished for leaving in the first place? Slapped and hit and take their anger out on him for Regulus dying? What about his friends? Who would Pandora have to eat lunch with and rant about books and authors to? What would Evan and Barty do? Who would they go to when they have family issues? What about Dorcas? Would she carry on life, knowing the young first year she took under her wing is now dead?
No, Regulus can’t die. He has to live and live long. He needs those lungs, he needs to have lungs, even if it’s just for five years. Five years is a lifetime to him, five years is everything to him, five years would be long enough before he starts over again, waiting for the next pair.
The other thing is James always brings Sirius up. Regulus would suspect that since Sirius is James’ best friend. But, he talks to Regulus about Sirius as if they’re going to make up.
Regulus and Sirius are family, yes. Regulus, even though he will never admit this to himself or anyone, loves Sirius and cares for him still. But, they can never be brothers again. They can never be ten and nine again, looking out to the sky from the big dome in the atrium or the children’s playroom windows. They can never joke around and cry to each other, wishing they could hug or at least touch each other's hands for comfort when their parents would be cruel.
It can never be like that again. There’s too much drama, too much tension, too much trauma for them to be okay again. Regulus has accepted that, and he hopes Sirius will come to the realization soon to tell James to shut the fuck up.
And then there’s Regulus’ G-Tube.
It hasn’t cleared up.
And today’s the day Minnie would be coming by to check it out; see if there's any progress, see if it got worse, see if nothing happened.
In Regulus’ eyes, it got far worse.
Sitting in the NUCI, Regulus rubs at his eyes furiously, cursing at himself for getting so worked up about everything. Everything and anything. He’s avoiding Doctor McGonagall, hiding in his comfort spot. He doesn’t want her to check his G-Tube, not now, not ever. Maybe he should just hide in here forever. Bribe Poppy to bring him food and his meds to survive out in this tiny room.
Poppy would never do that.
Regulus feels ill, his stomach turning and nausea hitting him hard. His head is spinning, and he can’t seem to slow it down, his entire body and mind running on hardcore adrenaline and fear. He knows what McGonagall will say and he can’t go through that. Not right now.
He hasn’t even told Pandora about it. Regulus had told her about the new cream he was trying for it and Pandora told him that everything will work out. They both were confident in it and Regulus had told Pandora not to worry because this entire thing will clear up. He was so sure.
And now, here he sits, in the back corner of the NUCI, knees to chest, tear stained cheeks, wet mask and tight chest.
He wants to pretend none of this is happening. Regulus wants to believe none of this is happening, that he’s healthy and not sick. That he’s at school with his friends and stressing about homework and upcoming exams. He wants to sit by the Great Lake with Pandora, Dorcas, Barty and Evan and complain about the students and the other teachers. He wants to sit through detention from being late to class from Barty and Evan. He wants to make bracelets with Dorcas and stargaze with Pandora.
But, atlas…
The doors swing open and pure fear pools into Regulus' belly. Bile crawls up his throat, scraping at the sides of it, his adam apple throbbing up and down. His eyes shut close, forehead pressing down on his knees, preparing for Doctor McGonagall’s voice.
“Regulus?”
Fuck me.
Regulus inches his head up, just a tad, viewing James standing six feet away.
“Hey- are-...” James drifts off, confusion written all over his face.
Regulus takes this moment to stand up and leave.
“Hey!” James shouts as the door close behind Regulus. “Wait!”
Regulus makes his way to the elevators, hearing James rush to catch up behind him. He wipes his eyes, face burning hot with embarrassment. Pesky tears spill from his eyes, soaking up in his mask.
“Regulus- please!” James says, pleading almost.
Regulus slams his finger into the down button, ignoring whatever James has to say to him, because, frankly, Regulus could care less. He couldn’t give two fucks about what James wants to say to him. He really couldn’t.
“Can we please talk?”
“Go away.”
“Regulus, c’mon.” James says, sounding defeated and tired.
“James, please, leave me be.”
“Reg, just-”
“I told you not to call me that.” Regulus snaps his head at James, finally seeing James properly.
“I’m sorry,” James rushes out, looking afraid Regulus might interrupt him. “For that and for what I might have said last week.”
Regulus shrugs.
“Oh, please, come on, Regulus.”
“What?”
“Just, tell me what I did.” James mumbles, frowning.
“You pissed me off,” Regulus mutters, turning back to continue pressing the elevator button. Where the fuck is it? “That’s what you did.”
“Yes, I can see that,” James sounds frustrated, his voice firmer than usual. “But what did I do to upset you? Please, Regulus, I want to know.”
“You just fucking pissed me off, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay.”
Regulus doesn’t say anything, focusing everything in his power on the elevator. Maybe he can somehow use his mind to fucking open it.
“Did I say something mean?” James tries, “Did I offend you or one of your friends? Did I get too close by accident? Was it-”
The elevator dings, finally opening the doors. Regulus steps in, thanking anything and everything for finally allowing him to escape this madness.
“Regulus-” James says, throwing a hand in between the doors, causing them to stay open. Regulus backs up, completely pressing himself against the back wall.
He’s too close.
“Please, let me say sorry properly.”
“We aren’t fucking friends, James.” He snarls, viewing his hand as a plague. “You have B. Cepacia, I don’t want to ruin my chances at getting lungs. Why would we be friends?”
James looks at him, the corners of his lips facing downwards.
“If you want to say sorry, leave me be. Just, fucking go away.”
James brings his hand back. Regulus avoids looking at his face, going straight for the button to close the doors.
Finally, the elevator moves. He pulls off his mask, soaked with tears.
When the doors open, Doctor McGonagall stands behind them, eyes open in surprise.
“Mr. Black.” She says.
Tears threaten to spill from his eyes. They burn at his eyeline, blurring his vision. McGonagall turns into a ton of blurry colors and dots. His throat tightens up, a thick lump stuck there, feeling as though he’s choking on food, but he isn’t. His legs feel wobbly. Regulus might fall. Regulus feels as though he’s falling.
“Mr. Black?” She says again, sounding unsure.
Regulus blinks, multiple times, clearing his vision. Slowly, Doctor McGonagall stands there, her head tilted slightly to the side. She’s holding a clipboard in one hand, gloves securely covering her hands.
“Sorry.”
“Shall we?”
Regulus blinks, again. He furrows his brows, unsure of what she’s talking about.
“Sorry?”
“To your room? I need to-”
“Yes.” Regulus nods, barely able to get the word out. “Sorry.”
He follows after McGonagall, forcing himself to move. Regulus keeps track of his steps, being aware of where his feet are at all times, afraid he might fall right on his face and eat shit. His stomach twists with nerves, sweat forming on his brow and forehead. He feels a trail of sweat drop down his back, pooling at the base of his spine. His fingers tremble and as a result, his fingers climb to his nasal cannula tubes and start his tapping pattern.
One, two. Stop. One, Two. Stop. Breathe. One, two. Stop. One, two…
Doctor McGonagall closes the door behind them, tears instantly pricking at his eyes once more. She sets her clipboard down and fixes her gloves, eyeing him.
“May I?” She gestures to his shirt.
He nods, afraid of using his voice.
Regulus closes his eyes, feeling the hem of his shirt being pulled upwards and exposing his G-Tube. Behind his eyelids he can clearly see his inflamed, infected G-Tube and how horrible it looks. The state of it is appalling and Regulus wishes for nothing more but to fall through the ground and end up someplace else. Someplace that isn’t here.
His shirt covers it again, the fabric moving against it and Regulus bites his tongue, hiding a wince. He opens his eyes, seeing Doctor McGonagall right in front of him, a pained expression on her face.
Tears finally fall.
Regulus curses at himself, wiping at his eyes. He hears McGonagall sigh.
“You’re at risk for the infection to get into the bloodstream.”
Regulus nods, not sure he can even talk from how tight his throat is. He drops his hands, mask clenched so tightly, Regulus is sure he’s squeezing the tears out of it.
“Hey,” Doctor McGonagall gently says. She sounds like a mother, shushing her child quietly from a scraped knee. “It’ll be okay.”
“You don’t know that.” Regulus mumbles, sniffing loudly.
Doctor McGonagall pushes her glasses up her nose, looking lost for words. Regulus knows that look extremely well. They both don’t know how to comfort someone with meaningless words.
“You’re right.” She admits, folding her hands in front of her. “I don’t know. It’s incredibly risky. It’s a shitty situation. But sepsis is the bigger monster.”
Regulus’ fingers go back to their tapping.
One, two. Stop. One, two. Stop. One, two. Stop. Remember to breathe, Regulus. One, two. Stop…
“Regulus,” McGonagall starts, instantly getting Regulus to perk his head up. She never uses his first name. “I believe you can get through this. This is just another challenge and I know you’re up for it. You are a fighter. You’re brave and-”
“I can’t,” Regulus says, voice strained.
“You can, Regulus.” She nods, placing her hands on his arms, looking awkward. “I know you can. You are strong and you can get through this.”
Regulus takes a step back, letting Doctor McGonagall’s hands drop. She sighs, giving him a weak smile.
“So…”
Regulus nods.
“Tomorrow morning?”
“Guess so.”
Doctor McGonagall nods, grabbing her clipboard. She gives him another rare smile, small and defeated. “I’ll inform your parents.”
Regulus watches as she exits, the door closing with a click behind her.
-
The sound of shoes slap against the floor outside Sirius’ room.
At first, he had thought it was James’, doing his normal stroll around the hospital to find Regulus. But, when he peeked his head out his door, Sirius had come to find Regulus and Minnie standing outside Regulus’ room.
He watched as they entered his room together and Sirius had caught a glimpse of Regulus’ face. It was blotchy and his cheeks looked wet, as if he had just been caught crying and hadn’t been able to wipe away all the tears yet. His eyes were red and downwards, looking painfully sad. He also was tapping away at his nasal cannula, his fingers twitchy and trembling.
Sirius now, stands by his door, it opened just a crack. As much as Sirius wants to just close the door and watch shitty television, he wants to make sure Regulus is okay.
Even though Sirius has a pretty good excuse on not giving a flying fuck about Regulus, they’re brothers. Sirius would do anything for Regulus if he had asked. Anything. So, he just wants to be sure Regulus is alright. Because from the tiny view Sirius got of him, Regulus didn’t look so good.
A few moments go by of just silence. Someone walking down the hallway would make Sirius jerk, quickly shoving his head through the small crack to see if it was Minnie or Regulus but, of course, it wasn’t.
He’s almost about to close his door when he hears another door opening. Sirius looks through the crack of the door and sees Minnie walking out, looking wary. Which is concerning, considering Minnie is usually incredibly hard to read and figure out what emotion she could even be experiencing in the moment. Sirius and James when they were younger tried to guess what she could be feeling or expressing. They never could figure it out.
Sirius, worry filling his entire body, slides outside, not caring he isn’t wearing a mask or gloves.
“What’s happening with him?” Sirius asks, rushing up to Minnie. She looks at him in surprise, her face going through a series of emotions; mostly confusion and anger but also concern.
“Mr. Black, this is not a time for games,” She scolds, planting her feet in the ground and nods to his room. “Please, this is for your safety and others-”
“Is he alright?” Sirius stands right in front of her, not daring to move.
“Mr. Black-”
“Minnie, please.” He pleads, swallowing roughly. “Is he- Regulus, okay? Is something happening with him?”
Minnie stares at him, lips forming a tight line. Her eyes flicker between his, staying silent. Sirius is about to open his mouth, asking again when she interrupts him.
“He’s going into surgery tomorrow.” She states, pulling her glasses off her nose. “His gastrostomy tube is infected.”
Sirius mouth parts, the word ‘surgery’ going around in his head. Detailed images of Regulus unconscious fill his mind, clogging his thought process and drowns him with dread and worry. Are his lungs even up for that?
“Wait-” Sirius says, shaking his head. “Like- surgery as in-”
“He will be under anesthesia.”
“What about his lungs?” Sirius questions, blinking. “He- They won’t be up for that.”
Minnie takes in a deep breath, folding her hands neatly in front of her. “There’s no other choice, Sirius. It’s either let his G-Tube become more infected or replace it with the risk of being put under.”
“There has to be another option!” Sirius furrows his brows, trying to think of any other possibility. “What happens if something goes wrong? What about-”
“Sirius,” Minnie says, a frown forming. “We have to do this procedure.”
Sirius opens his mouth, trying to come up with a solid argument but nothing comes out. He snaps his mouth shut, grinding his teeth with anger. Minnie looks at him, almost apologetically. Though, she doesn’t seem to know what to say.
“I have other patients to attend to,” Minnie says, breaking the sudden silence between them. “I hope I can trust you to go back to your room?”
Sirius nods, his feet beginning to take him towards the direction of his room. Minnie watches for a split second before walking off, down the hallway and into another corridor filled with nurses and doctors. Sirius, as soon as she disappears, makes a sharp turn and rushes over to Regulus’ door, knocking immediately.
He knocks softly, not wanting to startle Regulus. Sirius half expects Regulus to not open the door. When they were younger and Regulus got the brunt of his parents, he hid away, locking his door from everyone and usually stayed under the covers of his bed. This seems like a likely time where Regulus revisits that childhood routine.
But, atlas, the door opens. Just a crack. Regulus pokes his face out, a mixture of emotions circling his face. Sirius lets out a soft noise, looking at his little brother with such pain in his eyes, feeling that sudden protectiveness he always felt with Regulus.
His eyes are red, puffy and glossy. Tears still flow down his face, Regulus not seeming to care to wipe them away. His entire face is blotchy, and the bottom of his shirt is wet, as if Regulus had just yanked the hem of his shirt up to his face and wiped away his tears and snot. Though, it didn’t seem to help much.
“Oh, Reggie.” Sirius whispers, tears forming in his eyes whilst viewing the state of his brother.
Regulus doesn’t flinch at the nickname in disgust or hatred. Sirius is surprised at that, expecting Regulus to snap at him and slam the door in his face with no remorse or second thought. But he just looks tired and exhausted. It’s painful to look at.
He sniffs, knitting his brows slightly. “Why you here?” His voice cracks and Sirius catches the light pink bloom on his cheeks.
“Minnie,” Sirius says, swallowing to try and get rid of the thick lump in his throat. “She told me everything.”
He shuffles on his feet, his expression giving no sign to what he thinks of Minnie spilling her guts about him or Sirius shoving up at his door.
“Fuck off, Sirius.”
There it is.
Sirius internally groans. “Oh, Regulus. Please.”
“You’ve heard everything from Minnie already. What do you want?”
“I’m worried,” Sirius whispers, wanting so badly to take a single step forward. “Are your lungs-”
“My lungs are shit.” Regulus simply says, shrugging. “Most likely going to collapse during the operation and you know, I’ll be-”
“Don’t say that.” Sirius cuts off. He shakes his head, strands of hair falling in his face.
“Well, it’s true Sirius.” Regulus says. “My lungs are garbage, it happens all the time to other patients.”
“It’s not-”
Regulus shuts the door in Sirius’ face.
Sirius lets out a noise. Tears finally flow over, running down his cheeks in big fat droplets. His hand raises up to knock again but he thinks against it, stopping the motion. Instead, he just lays his hand against the door, breathing in rushed breaths and broken exhales.
“Go away, Sirius.”
Sirius perks his head up, noticing how close Regulus’ voice is.
“You’ll be okay.”
Silence.
“Regulus,” Sirius pleads, his forehead dropping onto the door gently. “You’ll be okay. I know you will.”
There isn’t a reply. Sirius bites down on his lip, hard, tugging at the cracked skin. He racks his brain for something to say but what the fuck are you supposed to say to Regulus Black for comfort? There isn’t a single response that seems reasonable for Sirius to say right about now.
He opens his mouth, deciding to just repeat himself but he stops when he hears shuffling come from the room.
“Okay.” Regulus faintly says.
Sirius closes his eyes, blowing out air and a small smile forms, for nobody but himself.
“Okay.”