Lost At Sea

Sirius runs for about half an hour until he realizes he has absolutely no idea where he’s going. He stops to catch his breath without a clue as to where he is. Looking around isn’t doing him any favours either since his vision has gone all blurry. 

He feels like he could cry, and then he does. He stands there in the rain, looking up at the sky until his vision comes back to him. A mixture of tears and raindrops runs down his cheeks. And he laughs, exhilarated. 

The Black Manor stands on a cliff a little outside of town. Walburga and Orion preferred it that way. They felt a certain superiority to the other townspeople and therefore found it best if their children grew up secluded and protected from the poor lifestyles of the common folks.

Their children weren’t allowed into town often. Of course, this didn’t stop Sirius from going anyway. If anything, it encouraged him to sneak out more often. He took Regulus with him from time to time, especially the first few years, but his younger brother never seemed to be just as interested in discovering the big, wide world as Sirius was.

Some people might call Sirius lucky for getting to grow up in such a beautiful and luxurious home. And it is beautiful—Sirius can’t deny that, even though he has trouble seeing its beauty when he feels nothing but disgust when he looks at it. The manor has three floors, various balconies, dark brick walls, and a large yard surrounding it with perfectly trimmed bushes and trees, sculptures of exotic animals, and even a separate tea house. But the most impressive thing about the manor might just be its location: right on the edge of a cliff, with a gorgeous view of the vast sea. 

Some people would call Sirius ungrateful for leaving, but those people didn’t know what it felt like to live inside this house—to rot away inside this prison, waiting for life to begin.

Sirius knows what it’s like, even though he tried so hard to forget.

He escaped his prison long ago, but sometimes he still feels trapped. Sometimes, he fears that he took the house with him when he left and has been carrying around its evilness and madness inside of him all along.

He stands in front of the gate, thinking that he has to be absolutely mental, because he’s about to approach the house—willingly. He dreads it tragically, but he has to try, doesn’t he? He has to know if it’s true.

It took him a few weeks when he was twelve to master the art of climbing the fence, and as it turns out, he hasn’t forgotten the trick just yet. As if no time at all has gone by, his feet and hands find their way, and in no time, Sirius lands on his feet on the other side of the gate.

A long pathway leads up to the front door. Once he’s there, Sirius considers knocking for a while. He isn’t sure for how long precisely; he sort of ends up in a daze at some point. In the end, he decides to peek through the window first. 

He walks over to one of the tall windows. He smiles at the thought of his parents seeing him in this state—in pajama pants, and with a tattoo peeking out above the neckline of Remus’ sweater. They might just jump off the cliff out of embarrassment for the disgrace they brought into this world. 

He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s here; there’s no way in hell that he’s ever going to walk on eggshells around his parents ever again.

But to his surprise, he doesn’t even have to, because the room is empty. 

All that remains is a carpet on the floor—his mother was always sure to remind Sirius to be careful not to spill anything on the carpet—and a single portrait on the wall: a picture of Walburga and Orion Black in all their glory, chins held high, and their perfect little children in front of them. 

Sirius doesn’t know what to think. Did they—move out? For a second, he even dares to hope that they’ve died, but that’d be too good to be true. Trust Walburga and Orion Black to clamp down on life with all their might, even though they don’t deserve it in the slightest.

Just to be sure, Sirius takes a walk around the entire house, only to discover all the other rooms to be empty as well, apart from a few abandoned furniture pieces.

He stops underneath the window of his old bedroom on the second floor, and he stares at the drainpipe which he used to climb down whenever he felt trapped between the walls of his childhood home—whenever it felt like his parents were constantly looming over his shoulders, breathing down his neck, even when he was alone. 

He found an escape in being with his mates. It was a dangerous climb—from time to time he almost fell—but it was worth it every time. Those few hours late at night running around with his mates, playing games, wrestling in the streets, having his first beers and smokes and kisses, felt like true freedom. But most of all the whole thing felt like an act of rebellion; getting away with things that his parents would disown him for was the best part of it all.

He looks at Reggie’s bedroom window right next to his own. He can’t see if the room is empty from down here, but he can take a guess. 

He kicks the drainpipe with his boot once, twice, and then walks away to continue his search. He thinks he knows where to look now.

Of course this is where Sirius would find his little brother. This should’ve been the first place he looked. 

Sirius hadn’t been completely sure until he got down to the beach—until he could see a single figure, dressed entirely in black, sitting at their old spot.

You wouldn’t be able to spot him if you didn’t know where to look, but Sirius knows where to look—of course he does. He remembers the day he discovered this spot with Regulus. It had been a rainy day just like this one, and they had been incredibly relieved to find a small cave—an alcove, almost—to take shelter in. He remembers showing James their new hide-out that summer, and using it whenever the three of them needed a shadow spot to cool down, or when they pretended to be plotting some grand mischief.

Thankfully, it has stopped raining by now.

Regulus is only a small dot in the distance, but Sirius knows it’s him. 

He had been so eager to see his little brother again that he'd been running around like a madman, but now that Regulus is within sight, Sirius approaches him slowly, just so he can prolong his peace for another few moments, which will inevitably be lost the moment Regulus notices him.

Regulus seems to be lost in thought as he looks out at the sea, because Sirius gets pretty close before Regulus’ gaze finds him. But Sirius was right, because the second—the exact second—Regulus notices him, he shoots up from where he was sitting down, and he glares, practically shooting daggers from his eyes.

Sirius knows that look. Sirius has seen that look before, but never directed at him. Regulus’ demeanor isn’t often friendly, but this—this—is a dangerous look, one that Regulus saves for special occasions when someone has really, really peeved him off. Sirius saw it once directed at a boy who had pulled Sirius’ hair at the schoolyard. The boy had only been teasing, but nonetheless, Sirius had to personally stop his little brother from yelling at the poor boy because he knows how much Sirius hates it when someone pulls his hair. 

And the other time Sirius saw it, it was directed at James, just after he told the both of them about his new girlfriend back home. James, bless him, had been terribly confused, and completely unaware of the reason behind Regulus’ anger.

Anyone who knows what’s best for them would’ve turned around by now, because this is Regulus’ I’m not fucking around look. But Sirius simply doesn’t give a fuck about Regulus’ dramatics. They need to talk.

Sirius keeps a short distance between them, and here’s the first thing he says to his little brother after five years without contact: “Nice weather, isn’t it?”

And then it’s Regulus’ turn. “Nice outfit,” he comments.

“Gee thanks. I like yours too. Attending a funeral, are you?” 

Regulus bites the inside of his cheek. “I am, yes, and it’s yours.”

“Ha!” Sirius barks out. “Well, this has been a nice, brotherly reunion so far.”

Regulus regards him for a moment, not saying a word, and then he starts shaking his head. “No.” He blows out a deep breath. “No. I’m not doing this, Sirius. You can fuck off with your nice reunion.” 

With that, he starts walking away.

Sirius throws his hands up in exasperation. “Oh, I see you want to be dramatic about this! Fine, but you’re not going to achieve anything by walking away right now.”

Regulus stops dead in his tracks and turns around. “I’m not trying to achieve anything here. I just want you to leave me alone.”

“Well if that’s all you want, then I don’t get why you’re so angry with me,” Sirius points out, because he can be a prick when he’s angry, too.

Regulus’ eye twitches. “Because that’s what you’ve been doing the last five years, you mean?”

Sirius gives him a mean smile. “Yeah, exactly.”

Sirius expected this to be harder. But this—insulting and being cruel to each other—is easy. In a scary way, it feels almost natural.

“Fuck you.” Regulus shoots back sharply, his eyes blazing. “Fuck you, Sirius. Fuck you, you know. Don’t pretend like you don’t know exactly why I—why I can’t even express how much I hate you.”

Sirius clamps his jaw shut tight. He knew Reggie wouldn’t take his department lightly. He knew, and yet, in his mind, it was hard to comprehend Regulus being anything but a little innocent child incapable of such hateful feelings. 

Many people have expressed to Sirius how they dislike him—his parents, for example, or people who have been jealous of the attention he got, or those who didn’t appreciate how loudly he voiced his opinions. But coming from Regulus, it hurts the most.

And it’s also just that Sirius still had one single sliver of hope left inside of him that Regulus would—understand. He doesn’t, as it turns out.

Sirius grimaces. 

Regulus continues sneering, “Tell me, then. Tell me why I shouldn’t walk away, because I have no clue.”

Sirius huffs. “Oh, I don’t know! Let me think about it.” He takes a moment, pretending to think hard. He crosses his arms and purses his lips, staring out into the distance. He hums. “That’s a hard one.” He focuses back on Regulus, who gives him an unimpressed look, and then Sirius gasps. “Oh, I know! How about—to talk to your brother, maybe?”

Regulus retorts, “Hm, no, that can’t be it, because I don’t think you have any good explanation for all of this that I’d believe.”

Sirius narrows his eyes at Regulus. “You don’t want to hear why I came back?”

At this, Regulus actually laughs. It’s a mean laugh, and it cuts off just as suddenly as it started. Regulus raises his voice slightly when he speaks next. “I don’t care why you came back, Sirius. I care about why you left.”

This, too, feels like a punch to Sirius’ guts, because it’s becoming more and more evident that Regulus has no understanding for Sirius’ actions in the slightest. 

Which is insane, because Sirius didn’t do anything wrong. Regulus should know that. At the realization, Sirius can feel his own anger rising.

“Really?” he exclaims. “You can’t think of any reason—any reason at all?”

“No,” Regulus spits out angrily.

“Oh, you know why I left, Reggie. You—”

“Don’t call me that,” Regulus interrupts.

Sirius’ eyebrows fly up. “Oh, I see. You’re all grown up now. You don’t need your big brother anymore," he says sarcastically. 

“I don't. All I need is for you to leave me alone.”

“I don't believe you,” Sirius tells him, and it's the truth.

Regulus takes a step back and spreads his arms out wide as he shouts out, “Well then you’re fucking blind! Just look at me, Sirius. How old do I look to you? Because last I checked, I was a grown-ass adult who has been doing fine on his own for years. Don’t barge into my life all of a sudden and expect me to be your sweet little brother again! You can’t do that! I have my own life now, and guess what—you're not a part of it! And that's on you. That’s what you chose."

Panting, Regulus drops his arms to his sides. He closes his eyes shut and turns his head to the side as if Sirius will magically disappear if Regulus ignores him long enough—as if when he opens his eyes again, this will all turn out to have been some strange dream.

Sirius doesn't know what to say. He feels like they’re coming to a dead end no matter what they tell each other. With every word exchanged, their anger rises. With every word exchanged, they’re reminded of the hurt they share and the hurt they caused each other.

Sirius thinks that maybe if they could just—just for once—swallow their anger, they could have a normal conversation.

But they can’t, because they’re some kind of malfunctioning, self-destructive family.

So instead of normal siblings, they're this—mess of two human beings. They always were a mess; that goes without saying when you’re born into the Black bloodline. But together, once upon a time, they were able to convince each other that they were okay for a little while. When they were together, they could escape the tyranny of their parents for a little while, as well as their fate of turning into monsters just like them.

But this right here—this is all wrong. And Sirius wants to be a good older brother and tell Regulus that everything's okay now and take him into his arms. He wants to tell him he's sorry and promise him that he won't leave ever again, except Sirius isn't sorry and he doesn't know if he can stay, because he doesn’t know if he can fix this.

He knows they're not going to fix it right here and now, though. They're both exhausted and still—well, they're still absolutely furious with each other. Sirius knows they'll just end up yelling again if they continue this conversation for much longer.

There's so much left unspoken between them. Sirius doesn't even know where Regulus lives. All he knows is that he orders Sirius' favourite pastry at the local bakery—a cinnamon roll—even though Regulus never used to like cinnamon as a kid.

Sirius wants to ask if their parents are dead, but he can’t trust himself not to start jumping up and down out of excitement if they are, and that'd be bad, considering that it might be a sore subject for Regulus since he never hated Walburga and Orion, at least not like Sirius did.

Five years without seeing each other, and being mean to each other is still just as easy as ever. But being gentle with each other, and bringing each other comfort—could that be in their future, or does it belong only in their past?

Sirius doesn’t know, but right here and now, he tries, “I know you’re an adult, Reggie—” He cuts himself off with a grimace. “Sorry, old habit. I know you’re an adult, and I know you can take care of yourself. I mean—I can see that you’re able to, you know, not put your clothes on backward, so that’s good.”

That might just be the weirdest compliment Sirius has ever given, but it’ll have to do.

Regulus rolls his eyes, the dramatic git. “Really, Sirius?” he asks.

Sirius just answers him with a sigh. He doesn’t want to fight anymore, and at the same time, he has been waiting for five years to tell Regulus off.

He doesn’t know why he thought this would be easier. He wishes they could solve all their issues with one conversation, but it’s not that easy. Because Sirius can see in Regulus’ eyes that he meant everything he just said. 

And Sirius, in turn, is still so incredibly angry. When he looks at Regulus, he wants to take him into his arms to make up for all the time they’ve lost, but he also wants to just—yell and scream at him until his lungs are bleeding and until Regulus will understand. But Sirius knows Regulus won’t, so he bites his tongue.

Sirius knows that this silence that has fallen between them is fragile, and needs to be protected, and must be treated carefully and gently.

Regulus seems to know, too, because he keeps quiet, and looks up at the sky, where dark clouds are looming over them. And at that very moment, ironically, it starts to drizzle again—as if the heavens above cry the tears that Sirius is holding back. 

Sirius watches Regulus close his eyes. He looks like his little brother again, like this—gentle and peaceful. 

Quietly, Regulus says, “You were right. The weather really is nice.”

And Sirius knows Regulus—the lunatic that he is—means it since he always used to like the rain back in the day. It’s nice to know that hasn’t changed.

Sirius turns his face to the sky, too. He doesn’t like the rain—of course he doesn’t—because he, unlike Regulus, isn’t bloody mad. But currently, the rain feels sort of—refreshing, almost. It feels like he’s being cleansed of all the awful things he just said.

After a moment, Sirius hears Regulus walk away, and this time, he doesn’t call after him. He just keeps looking up at the sky.

When Sirius arrives at the little inn later that day—much later than he originally planned when he left to get breakfast early this morning, James is already there, pacing around their room with his hands in his hair. 

James stops when he sees Sirius enter, and he sighs in relief. “Sirius!” he calls out. “There you are! Where have you been?”

His relieved expression soon makes way for a worried one. Frowning, he carefully asks, “Sirius?” 

When Sirius doesn’t respond, James takes a step in his direction to get a better look at him. “Oh my god, Sirius, what happened to you? You’ve gone all pale. Sirius, you’re shivering! Come here!” 

James sits Sirius down on his bed and bundles him up in a few blankets. Meanwhile, all Sirius does is stare down at his own shoes and listen to his best friend’s soothing words. 

“Shh, it’s okay. Everything’s fine now,” James whispers, gently rocking Sirius from side to side. “It’s okay.”

Sirius isn’t aware he’s crying until James gently wipes the tears from underneath his eyes with his thumb. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. Tell me what happened.”

Usually, when Sirius is upset, there’s nothing he’d rather do than rant to his best friend, who’s always eager to listen and always eager to offer his comfort. But right now, Sirius can’t manage to bring out a single word. All he does is weep and lean into James, who wraps an arm around him and rubs soothing circles onto his back.

Usually, this does the trick. James is the gentlest person Sirius knows, and there’s nothing like one of his hugs to calm you down. But today, James’ comfort isn’t working its wonders. In fact, it’s making Sirius feel worse, because all Sirius can think about is how Regulus must be cold, too—how he, too, must be upset, and how he, unlike Sirius, doesn’t have anyone to take care of him.

Sirius should’ve been there for him.