Pilot
Pilot
When Remus Lupin was nine years old he lost his eyes. Robbery gone wrong is what the cops called it, but Remus knew the truth even at that young age. It was a message. It was a warning sent to his father. “You pay what is owed to Greyback either in cash or flesh” his skin said, and Remus’ father clearly chose the latter. Remus was used like a fucking sheet of paper and was wrote on with a knife in bloody ink.
See, Lyall Lupin wasn't what you would call a good father. He was a professional boxer and was a pretty damn good one too, he just never was a great boxer. He wanted to be great, or more accurately he wanted the perks of being great without actually having to be great. He drank too much, gambled away all their money betting on matches, and basically lived at the gym. Remus doesn’t know if all that started after they lost his mom. He was so young he doesn’t quite remember how his dad was before the cancer. Maybe it was her being sick and him watching her wither away that changed him, made him grow cold and shrivel in on himself. So yeah he was a shit father if Remus says so himself but the one thing Lyall managed to do right at least was love his son.
He took Remus to matches with him and taught him how to throw and take punches. He taught him to love the adrenaline rush of the ring, to love the sting of bruising after a fight, how your body barked in protest but you kept on going. And boy did Remus love it. The use of every single nerve in your body to predict where the next fist would land. The pure high of winning a match. Lyall taught him that. Lyall also spoiled him when he could and would always try so damn hard. It was never enough in the end. He guesses that’s the Lupin family curse.
Remus knew Lyall always tried to be enough because he somehow always had the money they needed but it wasn’t until that summers eve that he finally understood how he always scrounged up the money when Remus knew they had none.
The loan shark, people only knew him as greyback and never his actual name. Lyall had been borrowing money from him for years and not paying it back as often as they would’ve liked. So that’s when they decided to go after Lyall.
It wasn’t an unusual night in the Lupin household. Remus had just heated up a tin of chicken soup for dinner when the door busted off its hinges. Remus tried to fight them off, he used every bit of knowledge his dad gave him and it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough when they held him down. It wasn’t enough when they put the chemicals to his eyes, or the knife to his skin, or when he screamed and screamed till he thought his vocal cords had snapped, it wasn’t enough to keep him conscious. In the end it was never going to be enough.
When he woke up days later covered in bandages that itched his newly sensitive and healing skin. The smell of antiseptic was so strong it burned his nose and made his head throb. He heard people weeping in the hall and his fathers snoring to his right. But he couldn’t see. He would never be able to see again. His entire world collapsed then, he became a black hole sucking up everything good and happy and bright in his life till all that was left was his emptiness. His nothingness.
“Dad, I can’t see!” He whimpered and gasped. “I can’t see, dad help me. Help me please, I can’t see.” His chest was so heavy he thought there was weights placed there. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see.
“Rem, it’s okay bud. You’re okay, just breathe, everything is going to be fine.” He tried to stay calm, Remus heard it in his voice when he spoke. This did the opposite of calm Remus down. “I need you to just breathe for me okay? In and out just like before a match alright? In and out. It’s all right my little wolf just breathe for me.”
“Dad, help I can’t-” gasp “I can’t see.”
“Here Rem feel my face, feel my face alright. It’s dad, I’m here with you till the end remember? Just feel my face, okay sport?” So with bandaged hands Remus felt his fathers face, wishing he could look upon it instead. Maybe then he’d be able to see the worry and not feel it taught beneath his skin. Because feeling worry on someone you loves skin, that is far worse than seeing it ever could be.
…
“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It’s ah- it’s been too long since my last confession. My dad used to come here a lot back when I was a kid. He was a fighter, an old school boxer.” Remus took a strained breath, breathing in the cool dry air of the confessional. In and out he thought, in and out. “I guess I inherited that from him, being a fighter that is. I guess I inherited a lot from him when I think about it. My God he could take a punch,”
“Language!” The priest to his left chastised. Remus could hear the steady beat of his heart and could smell the incense, frankincense and myrrh specifically, on his skin. This mingled with the smell of old books and dust, along with the smell of rose perfume that Remus assumes lingers from whatever old woman shook his hand at the end of mass this morning.
“Sorry father. Yeah he lost more than he won before he uh, well before the incident.” What Remus deemed the incident sent a pang of hurt down his spine and made his throat burn. After all that his father did Remus still did love him even if the guilt of what his father let happen to him led to his death. “He wasn’t a very large man but he didn’t go down easy. Always got back up and kept swinging.” His father might’ve lost more than he won but don’t let that skew your view. He took the punches and never got knocked out, he just took it and kept going. “I don’t remember her much, but my mother used to say that the Lupin boys have a monster in them just beneath the skin and may the lord save the souls of those who have to face it.” He chuckled a bit at just how right she had been.
“Surely you know all men have a little bit of the devil in them. That’s how Satan works, you know. That’s how sin consumes your soul. We all have evil in us, we all have monsters that we fight. That doesn’t make you a monster.” Remus knew he wasn’t understanding, of course everyone had a bit of the devil in them but Remus was a different monster entirely. Remus started getting a bit frustrated, it itched under his skin.
“Yeah, but this is something different, something bloodier and more raw. Something so carnal and feral I think I’d scare the devil himself. See most people fight off their monsters, I don't, I let it consume me entirely.”
“Nothing but God scares the devil boy, you must know that.” The priest replied.
“Yeah but, sometimes I think she was right, she always was, you know. I didn’t understand the anger then, not when I was young, but I would see it in him when he was in the ring. When he was beating the other opponent into the ground with no expression on his face. Like he wasn’t there. Like he truly was a monster created in the lowest pit in hell. His fury, red hot beneath his skin begging to be released. If I’m being honest it scared me as a kid, but now, now I understand. Now I see. I see now, because I see it in me.”
“Son, this might be easier if you tell me what you’ve done because I guarantee you’re no monster. The only monster here is the devil and what he’s tricked you into doing.” Remus felt his anger bubbling to the surface.
“Oh father, I didn't come here to seek penance for what I’ve done. I’m asking for forgiveness for what I’m about to do. Because unlike what you think I am a monster and I was forged by bloody fists and iron.”
“That’s not really how this works son, I can’t offer you forgiveness for the future.” The priest sounded exasperated.
“I don’t really care.” And with that Remus grabbed his cane and stepped out into the musty cathedral air.
…
James Potter doesn’t really know how he got here, swinging above the skyline in New York watching the sky turn that beautiful deep maroon red color that’s his favorite. Well, I mean, he guess’s he does know, kinda. It’s been five years and he still doesn’t have all the facts.
All he knows for sure is one day he was a normal senior doing normal senior kid things on a field trip to the new high tech lab that was built for cross species gene development and mutation when he was bit by a rogue spider. He knows the spider was being used for gene splicing. He knows the venom somehow transferred the spider’s ability to create spindles of web, he assumes it caused a silk gland to form in his wrist (thank Merlin for that placement honestly who wants to shit webs? Not him, it would definitely clog the toilet. Anyways), he knows he gained the spider's ability to walk on any surface thanks to the setules that now form on his fingertips. He thinks this is what freaks him out the most, having little hairs break through the skin on his fingertips. He just likes to think that it’s kinda like a werewolf growing hair and that makes it a bit bearable. Turning into an animal would be so wicked he thinks but he got stuck with only parts of a spider.
He unfortunately didn’t inherit the spider’s many eyes that would’ve been cool but like him, spiders have shit eyesight so having four pairs of glasses would’ve been a pain. But at least then when people called him four eyes they would’ve technically been correct so, bright side he guesses.
The next day after he was bit he felt the worst he’s ever felt in his entire life, like splitting headache and you know how like when you get the flu and you feel all achy? Yeah that times ten, it was hell and he thinks he slept for like 17 hours straight before he woke up. The very swollen bite on the back of his hand had basically disappeared except for a tiny white raised scar in the center of his dark skin. He soon found out he could climb walls and shit.
Don’t get him wrong it freaked him out at first but then he thought about it and realized that this, whatever it was, was so fucking cool. Of course the first thing he thought of was how his best friend Sirius was going to think this was so bloody awesome but then he remembered that Sirius was training beneath his mom as a nurse and would want to test him to see what was wrong and we’ll James quite liked how he ended up. So he decided against telling anyone. Since he became Spider-Man five years ago his life has changed a whole lot.
Fighting crime is what he does in his spare time when he’s not a photographer for the prophet newspaper. A masked vigilante fighting the scum of New York keeping the streets safe from any would be criminals. It hadn’t taken him long to come up with the idea to become Spider-man after he found Sirius beaten half to death by his criminal family on his porch step in the middle of the night at the young age of 15. He hadn’t been bitten then, and it killed him that he couldn’t help. It tortured him that he wasn't able to help Sirius seek justice. Just the memories of that night made James fury rear its ugly head.
It had been storming for the past couple hours and the chill struck you to the bone. It was your typical fall storm, but that night had been anything but typical. The first time he heard the knock James thought it was thunder, the second time he walked to the door, the third he heard Sirius scream in pain. The sound made James' heart drop into his stomach and his stomach into his feet, he’d know that voice blind and he’d know him at the end of the world when everything else was dark and decaying Sirius would light the way back to him.
Sirius was and still is his soulmate, he loves him like a brother but it’s more than that. Since the beginning it’s like their souls are made of the same material. Both of them were created at the beginning of time from the same kind of star dust. They twine together and it would be impossible to separate, like trying to peel apart the layers of smoke that billow from a raging fire. They’re together till the end of time. Until the very end.
He threw open the door to find Sirius beaten and bloody, his hair plastered to his face in black waves, his shirt torn in places, boot prints covering his once white shirt, and his left eye was almost the same shade as midnight, a dark purple blue. He held his side like he was trying to keep his ribs in place and he winced at every breath he took in. James immediately yelled for his mom and helped him in the house and out of the freezing rain.
Effie promptly looked him over and decided using her skills as a nurse that he probably needed to be taken to the hospital for broken ribs, a bruised lung, probable concussion, and a sprained ankle from running here in the rain. As his mother reached for the phone to call an ambulance Sirius’ hand reached out and grabbed her wrist stopping her.
“Please,… don’t.” He begged. He sounded so broken, so unlike the boisterous and wild Sirius that James has loved since they were children. It made him feel so sick.
“Sirius, my darling boy, your ribs and ankle need looking at. I can’t do an x-ray here.”
“He'll kill you if I go, please don't.” His voice had been barely above a whisper and it chilled James to the bone. James knew who he was talking about, James knew because he’d been trying to get Sirius out of that house for years.
“Alright okay, that’s alright I’ll do what I can here. Is that alright with you?” She asked using her voice that always calmed James as a child.
James had sat there with him till his mother patched him up to the best of her abilities with the limited supplies she had on hand, he sat there and held him as he cried himself to sleep, he sat there and watched him for signs that he might be in worse shape than they thought. He watched his chest rise and fall steadily, waiting for the hitch, waiting for him to bolt back to that haunted house.
When James was sure Sirius was really asleep and he wasn’t going back to the family James never knew the name of, and when James couldn’t take it anymore he crawled into his parents bed. Right between them and cried like a child. He cried for his best friend, he grieved for him. He couldn’t help it.
Sometimes James feels like he feels things too acutely, too powerfully, like a sharp ache in his chest right behind his sternum and to the left. It’s like his heart is too full and can’t take anymore shoving but he always manages to make room no matter the pain. He would make room for anyone if they needed it, he would crack open his chest and move everything around just so they had somewhere safe. Somewhere safe in him.
That’s his purpose, why he dawns the suit and mask every evening and night. To protect those that don’t have a safe space in someone’s chest. He gives them each a place to feel safe and protected. He gives them a home. He gives them a home because Sirius never had one until he fell on James' doorstep broken and bloodied. That was the day James decided he would never let this happen again, to anyone he made space for in his heart.
So James guessed that’s why he’s here, clinging onto the spindles of fiber for his life, though he has no fear. Wind blowing in his face through the mask. The red sky looked more gruesome than it did before. Reminding James of a time before the mask, a time when he had felt helpless in the face of something so evil. Never again he promised, but would he be able to keep it?
…
Mary McDonald woke up with the taste of blood on her tongue. That metallic copper tang that lingers and it’s impossible to forget. Even before she opened her eyes she knew she’d never forget the moment she did. She regrets ever opening them, she wishes she kept them closed forever. He was dead. She wishes she was.
She wishes she was the one who’s eyes stared into nothingness, clouded and empty. Her hands were coated in his blood, a kitchen knife, her kitchen knife clutched in her hands so tightly. She can feel the cool metal biting into her skin, marking her as the killer.
The blood on the handle had dried and made an awful shlick sound when the cops broke down the door and pointed their gun at her telling her to “drop the knife!” It fell with a clatter on her blood stained carpet.
“No! I did- I didn’t do this. Please no!” Mary begged
“Get on the ground!” The officer rattled his gun at her in emphasis.
“Please you have to believe me I didn’t do it!” Mary cried, hoping they’d believe her. Knowing they never would.
“Now!” The officer shouted. Mary whimpered and she hated that she did but she obeyed. Laying flat on the carpet hands in a surrender position. She laid next to Benjy trying her best not to look at him. Trying to not see the damage she brought. She failed and looked into his brown eyes that were slowly turning white and let out a sob. His face was pale and devoid of blood except for the spattering of it that flecked his tan skin.
Mary felt the officer harshly grab her arms and yank them behind her back before slapping her wrist in cold metal handcuffs. They bit into her too sensitive skin. Her eyes still trained on him, unwilling to look away.
She had said she didn’t do this which she realized wasn’t entirely true, she may not have been the one holding the knife stabbing benjy over and over, but she was the one who roped him into this. She wasn’t even sure what “this” was but she knew it was her fault. It's her fault. It's her fault. She’s the reason he’s dead. She’s the reason his kids have no father coming home to them. She's the reason he’s left a widow. It's her fault.
The last thing she remembered was rough callused hands yanking her to her feet and forcing her gaze away from the violent scene as she cried wet hot tears. Then nothing, just empty and blank like the eyes that will forever bore into her soul and curse her once beautiful dreams to be blood filled nightmares.
She went through the next few hours in a daze and devoid of feeling. Well she says few hours but that was really only a guess. It could’ve been hours, it could’ve been days and she wouldn’t have known the difference. She says hours because she doesn’t think she’s slept based on the fact her eyes still stung and the metallic taste was still in her mouth. She doesn’t know if it will ever leave. The next time she remembers anything is when a man with a cane and glasses walked in with a woman who had fiery crimson hair and a briefcase in hand. Two officers she didn’t really recognize followed right behind.
“Can we please uncuff the lady, it’s not like she’s going to go anywhere.” The woman said exasperated. The officer sighed.
“Miss McDonald, can you please tell me who these people are?” The officer asked.
“We’re her lawyers.” It was the man with the glasses and cane who spoke this time. His voice was comforting and she didn’t know why but it soothed her nerves a bit. Well as much as your nerves can soothe when you’re chained to a table and convicted of murder. “Uncuff our client and give us the room.” He waited for a beat then added “Please.” The officer looked at him scathingly and with keys jangling in his hand, unlocked her cuffs.
“Miss McDonald, my name is Remus Lupin and this is my associate Lily Evans. Do you mind if we sit with you?” Not wanting to speak just yet, Mary gave a shrug of her shoulders.
“She gave a vague shrug, I say we go for it.” It was Lily this time who spoke. Based on the way Lily had just narrated Mary’s action, the cane, plus the glasses she assumed Remus was blind.
“We understand you’re in some trouble, we uh- might be able to help. That is if you’ll let us.” Said Remus, leaning his van against the table and locking his fingers together and setting them on the table in front of him.
“Can you tell us what happened Miss McDonald?” Lily asked. When she didn’t answer Lily continued. “Why don’t we start with what we know as fact? You were found in your apartment with one Benjy Fenwick.”
“Who appears to be a victim of a homicide, and currently, Miss McDonald, you're the only suspect.” It was Remus who said this.
“Who the hell are you guys?” Mary asked.
“I’m Lily, that’s Remus. Keep up love.” Lily said and Mary narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“Who sent you?” Mary was worried then. What if the people who did that to Benjy are after her now? What if they sent these people to warn her to stay silent, or worse…
“No one sent us. We’re just doing our jobs.” Remus replied.
“So what? You thought you’d take the piss out of me? No one wants my case it’s cut and dry. I was found with the murder weapon in my hands, covered in blood, basically standing over his-“ she shuddered. “Over his body. So why are you here? Because I know damn well it’s not my lucky day.”
“I bribed officer Kingsley with a box of cigars for his mom. He tipped us off about your case.” Lily replied with a smirk.
“Lily.” Remus scolded her and she just smiled sweetly at him. Though Mary didn’t think he could see it he knew what she was doing because he scowled playfully. “You have to stop giving Mrs. Darla cigars. They’re bad for her health.”
“She likes to smoke Remus. It’s a free country, plus her homemade chicken pot pie is to die for.” Lily said with a slight moan that did something odd to Mary’s stomach, she thinks she’s hungry. Which that’s odd because she was just staring at Benjys body, how could she be hungry?
“You just like going over there because you think she’s hot.” Remus retorted and at this Mary’s interest peaked. So they’re not together, and an officer who’s name is Kingsley has a hot mom. Noted.
“Well that’s just an added bonus, but that’s besides the point.” Lily said, flapping her hand at him like she was trying to wave him off.
“Miss McDonald, to answer your question we’re a new firm and we’re aggressively pursuing new clientele.” Remus stated coolly.
“New firm huh? So, how long have you been practicing law?”
“What time is it?” Remus asked.
“It’s 12:22 am.” Lily answered him looking down at her silver watch that was hidden moments ago by a navy blue blazer that fit her well. Mary’s eyes trailed over her. She had pale skin and the most striking green eyes that lit up like emeralds. The charcoal grey suit she wore was absolutely sinfully tailored accentuating her figure while also making her hair light up like a beacon in the night. Lily was absolutely stunning and Mary wasn’t even wearing her own clothes having them taken from her as soon as she was processed. Not that she minds they were covered in blood. I’m his blood. Her friend.
“About 7 hours.” Remus replied, and Mary snapped out of whatever trance she was in. What was she doing? She just got booked for murder, act like it.
“Aha, great.” Mary huffed a laugh that had no humor behind it.
“Well if you go from when we passed the bar.” Lily said mainly to Remus.
“I was going from when we got our own desks.” Remus remarked.
“Oh well then yeah, about 7 hours.” Lily shrugged.
“So you’ve never done this before?” Mary asked.
“Well if you were to hire us then, yes you’d be our first client.” Remus said.
“Technically, yeah.” Lily added.
“I don’t have any money.” Mary said because she didn’t. She worked as an assistant to an accountant. She barely had enough money to stay in her apartment let alone hire two lawyers for a case she definitely wasn’t going to win.
“Well it was lovely to meet you miss evans-” Lily said standing, Remus reached out and grabbed her arm, halting her.
“You don’t have any money, we don’t have any clients. Maybe we can help each other.” He licked his lips. “Tell me everything you can remember.”
And Mary did, though it wasn’t very much. Well she told them almost everything. Everything they needed, and kept everything from them that would keep them alive because despite her better judgment, she was growing fond of the two.
…
Sirius didn’t live in the best part of town, so it came to no surprise to him when the boy that lived down the hall came rushing to his door and banged on it. He had done this a few times before so Sirius expected the same but this time it was different.
The other times it had been a head wound from the neighbor who got into a fight with her husband (he called the cops for her after a long conversation and her consent), a random stranger who had overdosed on the steps leading into the apartment complex (Sirius was able to save him and he’s now in a better position in life. He had gotten a Christmas card from him this past holiday season showing his wife and newborn baby, he might’ve shed a few tears but don’t ever repeat that he has a reputation to uphold for godric's sake), and a kid who broke his wrist learning how to skateboard (who still isn’t good but getting better). This one though, this one was more. More violent, more bloody, more deadly.
Not for the first time in his career as a nurse Sirius he felt afraid and unsure what to do, but it was the first time he was so shocked and terrified he had to take a second and just stare. The man was found around the back of the building in the complex’s garbage bin. There were puddles of wet sticky blood leading to the edge of the dumpster and it dripped from the sides like a faucet someone forgot to turn off all the way. Drip, drip, dripping. The sound made his stomach roil. The man laid there unmoving and for a split second Sirius was certain he was dead.
He wore all black, black pants that seemed tight but they actually gave like they were quite moveable, the black long sleeve shirt with jagged open holes cut into the side like it was roughly sliced with a knife, to the black mask that covered the top portion of his bloodied and swollen face.
It was dark, close to midnight in the never sleeping city of New York. He couldn’t see much less assess the wounds of this man in the dumpster. So with much effort, (do you know how difficult it is to get a man that is larger than you out of a dumpster with only the help of a teenager? No? Well it’s bloody difficult, let him tell you.) They got him out of the garbage and carried him into his apartment.
“Poner él abajo, aquí, en el suelo.” Sirius spoke in the language he knew the boy was most comfortable with. Before moving here Sirius knew minimal Spanish but he was fluent in both English and French so picking it up wasn’t terribly difficult for him though he didn’t know for certain if he was speaking it correctly. “Fácil, fácil, fácil. Está bien, sube y cierra la puerta. Ni una palabra sobre esto a nadie. Ni siquiera tu madre.” With that he walked out the door and Sirius shut the door behind him. He pressed his back to the door and his hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he heaved out a sigh.
He gave himself one second. Just like Effie taught him to do when he was training under her to become a nurse. He gave himself one second of “what the fuck am I supposed to do?” Before he launched into action going straight for his at home medical kit he kept stocked and ready.
First thing he did was check to see if he was in fact still alive, he put his two fingers on the inside of his wrist and felt for a heartbeat. It was faint but there. Next he checked the damage. Four slices, still bleeding in various areas but none severe enough to worry about just yet, many bruises along his ribs indicating blunt force trauma, maybe a few broken ribs. The one that made him pause for a second was the fact that his eyes weren’t responding to his flashlight. Either this masked man was blind or had really severe head trauma. Finally the most worrisome, a deep stab wound right in his side. That one is going to be a problem, maybe internal bleeding. Which he could not fix here and would have to call the ambulance.
He reached and grabbed his phone he left on the couch to call the ambulance. He dialed the number and was about to press the call button when a gloved hand grabbed his wrist.
“No calls.” The masked stranger said. He sounded scared.
“It’s okay, I’m just trying to help.” He said trying his best to imitate Effie’s soothing tone.
“No,” he grunted in pain. He was trying to get up.
“We have to get you to the hospital.” Sirius says.
“They’ll kill everyone.” That sent alarms off in Sirius's head. A sense of deja vu struck him and he was terrified.
“Who will?” He asked fearing the answer but needing it all the same.
“The men who did this. They’ll kill everyone in that hospital to get to me.” He got up with a groan, clearly unstable on his feet. That wasn’t fully an answer but he is bleeding pretty badly so he’ll cut him some slack. He'll get the answers later, that is if he doesn’t kick the bucket and greet the reaper on his living room floor.
“Okay, alright, stop you’ve lost a lot of blood. I think you might’ve been stabbed.” Sirius said concern lacing his words.
“Really how’d you come to that conclusion?” The stranger bit back, Sirius just stared at him not knowing how to react. “I have to leave.” He got up and started walking. He was walking in the wrong direction to leave.
“You wanna leave so bad? Doors that way, have fun bleeding to death.” The man in black turned around and started to walk but he tripped on the carpet and fell face first into the floor then promptly passed the fuck out again.
“Well this is just great.” Sirius said as he tried to get him on the couch. Seriously, how tall was this guy?
…
Regulus Black hates his job. He hates the people he works for, he hates the hours, he even hates the damn coffee that’s served in the break room. It’s too bitter no matter how much sugar and cream he adds, because unlike popular opinion, Regulus in fact hates black coffee and prefers it with two sugars and cream. It also doesn’t help that he works for his family.
He’s the head reporter for the prophet, which is owned by Black industries. Most people don’t know this however which is good and it keeps him under the radar most of the time. It’s also very bad because they control what news gets reported and his family isn’t what you would say a moral group of people. In fact a better way to describe them would have to be criminals. In fact Black industries is just a front for whatever business his father deals with.
The one thing that Regulus hates the most about his job however, is the bubbly new photographer that he bumps into every. Single. Day. Without fail in the break room. James Potter, Regulus scowls at the name. It’s almost like he plans it, and he’s starting to really grate on Regulus's nerves. How can anyone be that happy all the time, like literally chill out and maybe lose that infuriatingly white smile while you’re at it. You’re in journalism at least act depressed like the rest of us. He started two weeks ago and for some reason he’s been annoying the hell out of Regulus, it’s like a game to him.
That’s where he finds himself again for the second time that day getting the disgusting coffee which he’s not happy about but the caffeine is needed. He’s been working on a story since four that morning that his father requested (and he uses the word requested lightly more like required him to print) and he’s starting to feel it. It’s some cover up story about how three people were put in the hospital after a good samaritan saw them robbing tourists, when he knows for a fact that they were apart of a trafficking ring and the good samaritan was some dude in a black mask that beat the hell out of them. When in comes James mother fucking Potter. Once again. How does he always seem to know when he’s in here?
Regulus scowls but he doubts James even noticed. His ego is so big that even if he did notice it wouldn’t do much. He saunters in like he owns the place and gives Regulus a big smile with his too white teeth. Regulus wants to punch them out. His glasses are smudged and askew on his face like he’s been messing with them while trying to do work, and his hair is a mess as always like he’s been running his fingers through his hair. Distantly Regulus wonders what it would be like to run his fingers through the dark curls that never seemed to fall in place. Just to see if they would obey his touch.
“Afternoon Reggie.” James says sweetly and it makes Regulus grind his teeth.
“I’ve told you not to call me that.” He replied, irritated that he has to tell him once again not to call him that.
“And you’ve yet to give me a good reason why I shouldn’t call you Reggie.” He smiled.
“Because I am your boss and it is entirely inappropriate.” He said flatly.
“Right yeah but we’re friends right-“
“Hardly.” Regulus interrupted.
“And friends call each other nicknames. You can call me a nickname if you’d like.” As if regulus would call him a nickname. No, he much prefers formal titles.
“I’ll stick with Mr Potter.” Regulus deadpans.
“Oh come on, at least call me James.” He wiggled his eyebrows at him. Regulus just stared at him.
“I’d prefer not, thank you Mr potter.” Regulus replied and James huffed a laugh. Regulus grabbed his coffee from where it was finished brewing and took a sip. The only thing that it had going for it was at least it was hot. So hot he usually waited a bit until it cooled to a drinkable temperature. This time however he forgot that in his irritation and burnt the hell out of his tongue. James seemed to notice and this perpetual smile seemed to fall.
“Oh shit are you alright?” He asked concern etching his face.
“Yeah, just burnt my mouth, nothing to be concerned about.” Regulus said around a mouth that was in fact not fine and hurt quite a bit to talk. James also seemed to notice this and reached into the freezer pulling out a red popsicle.
“Here suck on this to relieve the pain, and later when you get home later swish around some salt water.” He said, handing the popsicle to Regulus.
“How exactly do you know this?” Regulus asked unwrapping the paper that was stuck to the red sickly sweet ice.
“Oh my moms a nurse and I was a bit impatient when the pizza rolls came out of the oven.” James cheeks heated and Regulus could see a slight pinkness in the apple of his cheeks. It was, despite his better judgment, endearing? He thinks.
“Oh so you learned this kind of stuff growing up?” Regulus asked, and he doesn't know why he did. He could have left the conversation there, thanked him and walked away. Regulus popped the popsicle into his mouth and felt the instant relief it brought.
“No, well I mean yes kinda but the pizza roll incident was last week.” He smiled sheepishly and it was the most unjames like smile Regulus had seen him make. His usual loud and boisterous presence seemed to be subdued into something almost sweet. Regulus snorted around the popsicle in his mouth and tried to cover it up with a cough. He doesn’t think he did a great job. Just then Pandora, his assistant and one of his best friends, walked in.
“Reg, your father is in your office and wishes to speak with you.” Her lofty voice provided some comfort when that sentence only struck fear into Regulus’s mind. He could feel it in his gut and suddenly he didn’t mind chatting with James.
“Thank you Pandora, I’ll be right there.” He gave James a look. “Thanks for the popsicle.”
“Oh it wasn’t mine.” James replied.
“What!? Who’s was it?” Regulus took the cherry flavored treat and threw it in the bin. Casting a scowl his way.
“No clue but I’ll bet we’ll figure it out later when someone is irritated that it’s gone.” James said and practically skipped out of the room. It didn’t go beyond Regulus’s notice that he didn’t get anything from the break room. Regulus grabbed his green mug and left.
The walk back to his office felt like a death march. Marking him for death by execution. His father has never once visited his office. He usually gave his orders via personal assistant on the phone. He rarely even spoke directly to him on the phone let alone in person. So him showing up here unannounced could only mean Regulus was about to die. Slow and painfully.
He took a breath before he opened his office door. When he entered he found his father lounging in his chair hand interlocked and resting on the desk in front of him.
Orion Black is an imposing man. With wide shoulders and dark black hair that is cut short at the sides and longer on top, giving him a business look but one that scares you a bit. His beard is trimmed and styled immaculately just like every other part of him. You look at him and all you see is wealth. Dripping opulence in his tailor made suits and Italian leather shoes.
Regulus took after his maman for the most part. He was slenderly built with angular features and a head of dark curls that are kept short, but everyone always says he looks like his father. In the way his facial features look more like Orion. He had his nose and eyes, but he always felt like he looked more like his maman.
“Father.” Regulus said straight backed, head lowered.
“Regulus, how are you my son?” Orion asked, and Regulus knew he didn’t actually care. He just wanted something.
“Well father, and you?” Regulus also asked though didn’t really care but he knew it was expected of him.
“As well as to be expected. I have a task for you that I need completed in silence.” Ah so something not on the legal side of things. Great, what could go wrong? Regulus thought this sardonically.
“Yes of course father, how may I help.” He said stiffly.
“As you know my operations as of late have been somewhat disrupted by a couple of masked individuals.” He paused and looked at Regulus to make sure he followed. “I would like you to unmask them for me. Put that useless journalism degree of yours to use for once.”
“Yes father. How would you like me to catch them?” He asked because he genuinely had no clue where to even begin. He guesses he could go back to where the trafficking ring was attacked and see if he can pick something up the cops missed but who knows if that will lead him anywhere.
“That my son, is for you to figure out. Of course you’ll have all my resources available and if you need anything else give Lucius a call.” Orion said and Regulus groaned internally, he hated Lucius. His father’s assistant and his cousin's husband. Such a kiss ass.
“Yes father.” Regulus repeated like the good little soldier he is.
“Oh and wipe the red stain from your mouth it really is quite unbecoming.” Orion said it like it meant nothing to him but Regulus could hear the irritation in his voice.
“Oh yes of course.” He said bringing his hand up to wipe his mouth.
And with that he stood and walked out. Regulus went around and sat in his chair. The chair Orion had just vacated, and groaned. It was going to be another long night. He looked in the mirror that sat on his desk and scowled at the tinge of red that was on his lips. Fucking Potter.