carpe diem

8

Regulus Black is not weak.

This is a fact. A known fact, even.

Regulus Black is not weak because Rasalas Black was. It took a while for Regulus to realise the change, but once he did, he determined that Regulus was not weak. He couldn’t be, because he spent so long living as Rasalas and being too easy to destroy.

Rasalas Arcturus Black was pathetic, ruined, easily mouldable. Regulus is not. Regulus killed and buried Rasalas the moment he stepped foot in London five years ago.

Regulus Black is a doctor, a grown man, and a surgeon student.

Sometimes, Regulus really hates Regulus Black.

He hates how the version of himself hasn’t been able to shake off the remnants of being overly obsessed with wanting to achieve anything and everything. He hates how this version of himself is always so desperate to impress people that even after qualifying he’s picking up shifts left, right and centre just to continue to prove himself. He hates that he said yes to the last two night shifts to cover for sick staff and didn’t cancel his study date with Pandora the morning he finished his sixth shift in a row. He hates how even though it’s been a week since James came to his flat, Regulus is still so confused on what is going to happen.

It’s so confusing, and nothing was confusing before James turned up. Everything was fine. Regulus had his job, his friends, his apartment with his cat, and a very active sex life that didn’t involve any stupid feelings.

Now, James has waltzed in and is making Regulus feel. He’s making Regulus feel things he’s never felt before because he’s never allowed anyone to get close to let his body and heart fight over something. James barely had to try to knock down the defences Regulus built when he buried Rasalas five years ago, but instead all he’s had to do is smile and the walls of his castle have crumbled like meagre sand.

Regulus doesn’t know why he allowed James to stay that Sunday. He doesn’t remember the clearly disorientated thought process he had when he said it was fine for James to stick around for a whole day to watch Bake Off and then cook him dinner. Regulus hasn’t ever done that with anyone apart from his three friends. No one other than Pandora, Barty and Evan even know where his flat is let alone been allowed in and hosted an entire day of company. The crisis that followed James leaving that Sunday evening was monumental and quite frankly, would have been one for the legendary books if anyone had witnessed it. Regulus was on the verge of phoning Pandora and telling her they’re leaving the country just to get away from the mess he’d gotten himself potentially into.

Regulus liked James, and the realisation hit him harder and sharper than a direct punch to the face from a heavyweight.

Regulus proceeded to hide away from the world his only day off after the James debacle. He told everyone he was studying, James included, and turned off his phone for almost 48 hours. He only revealed himself from the safe tomb of his flat to go to work, and even then he made very excuse as to why he couldn’t meet Barty or Evan on their lunch breaks.

Regulus managed to freak out alone for a total of five days, ignoring all his texts like the plague, before James came into the hospital again, coffee in hand as predicated and asked to speak to Regulus if he had a minute. Regulus wanted to say no. His brain was screaming to say he didn’t have time, to save himself the incoming, precedented pain he was luring himself into. Instead, Regulus said yes. The word fell from his mouth, body practically jumping out of the desk chair to let James take him wherever he wanted. He was on the verge of losing so much control of himself that he almost reached out and took James’ hand.

Turns out, James wanting to talk concluded of him basically excusing all of Regulus’ harsh actions over the last week and promptly blaming himself for being pushing and making Regulus uncomfortable. If Regulus was a strong man, he would have let James take the fall, walk away and the problem of his progressing love life would have been gone and he would be welcome to go back to his old ways.

Only, Regulus is not a strong man.

No. Instead, Regulus practically jumped down James’ throat, stomping on his self-depreciating attitude and apologised himself for shutting James out.

Regulus doesn’t apologise.

He realised in that moment it was the beginning of the end.

His walls had crumbled enough from James’ warmth and pained eyes at the idea of being a bother towards Regulus. He crumbled like a house of cards in a pathetic breeze.

It was hideous, to be honest.

Regulus has yet to rebuild that house of cards though. He has yet to put back up the defences against James’ warmth, his welcoming presence.

He didn’t quite manage to explain to James all the skeletons in the closet as to why Regulus was so shifty at the idea of getting close to someone so new. James seemed to see it though, after a few minutes of standing in the empty neuro mess room getting more and more flustered and panicked at the idea of James actually going away because of his own incapability to deal with his own emotions. James just gently shushed him, smile so soft and kind on his face that Regulus didn’t know if he wanted to kiss him or throw up, and told Regulus that they didn’t need to be more than friends if Regulus didn’t want that.

Friends.

Regulus didn’t want that.

He wanted more, but the idea terrified him.

Still, he agreed to friends.

James is a friend. A friend Regulus wants to kiss, and who makes his stomach feel like a kaleidoscope of butterflies have been set free inside of him.

James is just a friend.

Turns out though, friends or not, James has slotted into Regulus’ life like a suspiciously perfect fitting puzzle piece and Regulus isn’t strong enough to shake him away yet.

It’s only been a week, and two days of texting back and forth slightly, but Regulus become as attached as a teenage girl with a celebrity crush.

A pair of fingers click in front of his face, jolting him out of his head with a sudden snap.

He glares at Pandora across the table. "What?"

"I asked you a question four times, then called your name repeatedly and you didn’t even blink," Pandora explains, and her face is a clear mix of amusement, curiosity and concern. "I was getting worried you'd had  a stroke, but now I realise you were daydreaming."

"I wasn't daydreaming."

Pandora hums, concern wiping off her face as she smirks at him. "Of course, petite étoile (little star)."

"I wasn't!" Regulus grumbles, huffing. "Now, what was your important question?"

Pandora runs a hand through her already frazzled hair, the blonde locks looking like she's touched a live wire. It's barely up in its bun anymore, so many pieces falling in her face that Regulus can barely see the shape of her eyebrows anymore. 

"In epileptic mothers, there are two medications women can switch to to reduce risking the children of cleft lips and heart abnormalities. I can't find anywhere what those two medications are—"

"Lamotrigine and levetiracetam," Regulus answers, taking a sip of his coffee only to grimace when he finds it's gone cold. He puts the mug down sharply and adds, "Also, mothers are at risk of their children also developing spins bifida if their medications aren't swapped."

Pandora nods as she scribbles his input down on the flash card. "Perfect. Thank you."

"That's what I'm here for," Regulus mutters as he stands, snatching his and Pandora's mugs off the table before moving towards the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. He's got the kettle refilled and is spooning in his second teaspoon of instant coffee powder into his mug when he hears Pandora's light stepping feet approaching.

"Everything okay?"

"Of course," Regulus replies as he puts the coffee away and snags a tea bag out of the pot. He tosses it with ease into Pandora's mug before he turns around to face her while the kettle boils. She studies him as he leans against the counter and crosses his arms. "Why'd you ask?"

"You seem off," Pandora says. "And not just I'm overtired from my night shift last night and I haven't caught up on the lost sleep kind of off. You seem distracted."

Regulus feigns nonchalance. He thinks he does a pretty good job as like Pandora just reminded him, he's been awake for over 24 hours now with a 13 hour shift in-between.

His shift last night was his last of six, and instead of going home to catch a nap of beauty sleep to make up for the ridiculous amount of hours of lost sleep he's had this week, he had to dash straight over to Pandora's flat because he promised her he'd help her study for her exam on Friday. Of course, Regulus knows he could have cancelled on her and she wouldn't have batted an eyelid after hearing the amount of hours he's done at work in the last six days, but Regulus didn't want to let her down. Pandora wouldn't have complained, and she even offered Regulus various times for him to go home since arriving, but Regulus has refused. Pandora has already missed out on so much due to the truly shit hand of cards she was dealt with over the last two years, and Regulus will be damned if she's ever let down again.

Hence, the study day straight off the back of Regulus' third night shift.

Also hence, the hard to penetrate bouts of closed off thinking he's been having. Pandora hit the nail on the head - Regulus is very distracted, and it's another thing he can blame the stupid James Potter for.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Regulus Black doesn't get distracted," Pandora muses, tilting her head. She looks so much like her mother when she does that, Regulus tells her often enough. She never takes it as an insult, even if it was. Being compared to her mother will always be a compliment to Pandora. Not that Regulus would ever disagree, as there wasn't anything negative to be compared to with the late Mrs Fontayne. "Talk to me, Reg."

"There is nothing to talk about," Regulus insists. He can feel his hands beginning to tremble, and he would scold himself for being such an unnaturally bad liar in this moment if the kettle doesn't click to indicate it's finished. Regulus turns quickly, facing his back to Pandora to hide the blooming flush creeping up his neck and cheeks. Saved by the bell, as they say.

"Does you're distraction have anything to do with a certain someone you invited to your flat last weekend, and have refused to talk about since?"

Fuck you, Pandora, Regulus thinks hotly. Fuck you and your stupidly accurate memory of my drunken misleadings from Barty.

"Again," Regulus says as he gets the milk out of the fridge, still purposely keeping his back to her, "there is nothing to talk about."

"I think there is," Pandora replies, and even without looking at her Regulus can hear the teasing and softness dripping from her tone. Regulus doesn't need to look either to know she's stepping further into the room. He continues to look down at cups as he drains her teabag and adds a dash of milk to her tea as she comes into line of sight at the side. "So, are you going to tell me if the infamous and lovely James Potter arrived at your flat last weekend? And don't lie, because I've already spoken to Barty and I know you didn't go to pottery after you kicked him out."

"If you've spoken to Barty, why are you asking me?"

"Because I want to know what happened after Barty left, and why it seems to have correlated to you now being a little starry eyed day dreamer on our study date?"

"Nothing happened."

"No?" Pandora muses, blowing gently on her tea. "So he left as soon as Barty did?"

Regulus debates lying. He wants to lie and say that yes, James left straight after Barty did and there is nothing more to the impending story. Except, Regulus knows that Pandora will see straight through it, and if she doesn't, hell will be paid later when she finds out he denied her the small details of his Sunday with James.

"Judging by the look on your face, I’m guessing my assumptions are correct and he stayed," Pandora says when Regulus doesn’t reply.

"He just stayed the afternoon," Regulus resigns. "That’s it. We didn’t go to pottery because I was tired so he stayed and we watched some TV."

"You didn’t feed him?"

"He’s not a stray animal, Pandora," Regulus rolls his eyes. "We ordered lunch and then later in the evening I cooked a shit pasta dish. Happy? That’s literally all—"

Pandora cuts him off with a giggle, shaking her head.

"Firstly, petite étoile (little star), you don’t do shit food, which means even if you were scraping together dust and shit out of your cupboards you would have ultimately looked something delicious for him. Secondly, that’s not all. The Regulus everyone else knows would have thrown James out as soon as Barty went too, yet you let him stay."

"I felt bad."

Pandora narrows her eyes. "You. . . felt bad?"

"Yes!" Regulus hisses. "I’d invited him over drunk on a Sunday morning, invited him to a fucking pottery class that was never going to happen and then let Barty grill into him so bad the guy looked like he was sweating with nerves. Hence, I felt bad, so I let him stay over the afternoon while we watched some TV, then cooked him some dinner while he chatted literally nonstop about fuck-knows what before he left. That’s it."

That’s not it. That’s not it at all, but the fact of that scares Regulus. He did feel bad for messing James about, but he also let James stay because a weak part of him wanted to. He wanted James to stay, he wanted James to sit beside him on the sofa and wait for him to sleep off the griping hangover that was embarrassingly plaguing him. Regulus wanted James to stay while he cooked them a mediocre dinner as a small hand of forgiveness for ruining the other guys Sunday. He won’t tell Pandora, but while it’s the truth that James did talk non-stop and most of it was strange waffle about his life and his friends, Regulus didn’t mind. He enjoyed listening to James talk. He liked the way James’ face lit up whenever he talked about his friends, or his eye softened and his whole demeanour softened when he talked about his parents. James clearly liked talking, and that’s fine because Regulus enjoyed listening.

He enjoyed it a lot.

"You look troubled."

Regulus closes his eyes.

"Is he bad for you?"

Yes.

No.

Not at all.

So much.

Never.

The truth is, Regulus doesn’t think James could ever be bad.

All James has to do is flash a smile and Regulus feels like the world stops spinning out of control. Just for a moment, he makes Regulus feel warm.

"Reg?" Pandora prompts. "I can’t tell if this is an internal crisis or I actually need to be concerned. He’s Effie’s boy, no? I don’t think anyone who’s been raised by that woman could be a bad person, but still."

"No," Regulus murmurs, opening his eyes and focussing on the wonky tile in the middle of the floor. "He’s not bad."

"Then why do you look like you’re already heartbroken?"

Glock. Aim. Shoot.

Regulus wants to laugh and tell Pandora that he looks like this because his heart was broken long before he even met James. It was broken before he even met Pandora, or Barty or Evan. Cracked, ruined, shattered and butcherly put back together with out of date glue, his heart is barely held together anymore. All the pieces are put back together wrong, mismatched and ruined.

It won’t take much to make it break apart again, which is why Regulus is so determined to protect it so much.

How many times can something shatter before even putting it back together becomes impossible?

How many times can something be ruined before it’s too broken?

"Regulus?" Pandora murmurs, and a moment later her warm hand is gently cupping his wrist, rubbing her thumb over the notch of his bones. "I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but whatever happened that Sunday and since, if it’s good, you should let it happen."

James is good. He’s so good, so pure and warm and gentle. Regulus is scared he’ll poison it.

Pandora keeps rubbing his wrist, an action so small yet so soothing, grounding.

Regulus takes a rugged breath, lifting his head enough to meet her eyes.

"We’re meant to be studying," he murmurs.

"We’re taking a break," Pandora shrugs, smiling softly. "It’s good for the brain."

Her hand moves from his wrist and comes up to gently tousle his hair, swirling a finger through a curl.

"Come on," Regulus says, and he’s relieved to hear his voice has lost it’s weak waver. "You need to study."

Pandora rolls her eyes playfully. "Another five minutes. My brain feels like mush between my ears right now."

"Fine," Regulus smirks, deciding to change the subject from his own bleeding wounds. "Have you introduced Xeno and Benji yet?"

Instantly, Pandora’s face lights up.

"I didn’t have to," she replies. "Benji went into the restaurant Xeno waiters at and spoke to them."

"What?" Regulus blanches, horrified. "Why the fuck did he do that?"

"Because he didn’t want to get in the way of me and Xeno," Pandora smiles, shoulders easing. It’s such a comparison compared to when she first told Regulus about Benji being in town and Xeno being uncomfortable about it. "He was brilliant, actually. Whatever he said to Xeno was perfect, and completely honest."

"There wouldn’t have been a reason to lie," Regulus says pointedly, albeit a little bit harsh. He has no problems with Xeno, but he doesn’t like how they’ve made Pandora feels insecure for something so long ago that made her one of the reasons she’s the best person he knows. "Xeno had no reason to be weird about it."

"They were just worried, I think," Pandora chides softly, flashing him a reassuring smile. "They haven’t had the easiest relationship history either. I think when they heard my ex was back in town they just panicked. Benji spoke to them though. He told Xeno everything that was between us before he went back to Japan, said he came back in peace to simply see everyone again. Turns out, Xeno loves him."

Regulus hums teasingly. "You got competition?"

Pandora laughs, giggling. "Think I might have to start considering I might be perhaps leading towards a polyamory."

"Saucy," Regulus teases, and then tilts his head, "and also completely unsurprising."

"Shut up!" Pandora gasps, taking her hand from his hair to smack him on the shoulder.

"I’m just glad your panic is over and now you and Xeno can continue on your gorgeous path towards happily ever after."

"Don’t be silly," Pandora rolls her eyes, but her cheeks are glowing ruby.

"I’m not," Regulus says seriously. "If you and Xeno aren’t married and with kids before I’m 30, I refuse to believe in love anymore."

Pandora hums and inclines her head suspiciously. "You claim you don’t believe in love anyways."

"I don’t."

"And James?"

Regulus’ hands twitch to smack the tea out of her hand out of pure annoyance.

Instead, he just says, "Let’s get back to studying."

When Regulus was studying before he qualified, he could count the amounts of time he got a full nights sleep on one hand. Between studying, placements and being dragged out by Barty and Evan to 'live the university life', Regulus' time was stretched and naturally, sleep was the last priority.

Full 14 hour shift and still need to study the anatomy of the brain down to the tiniest detail? Drink coffee to make up for pulling an all nighter.

Being peer pressured into going to the Leaky when you’ve been studying since four in the morning? Espresso martinis all night and caffeine pills in the morning to survive classes.

Therefore, Regulus is no stranger to sleep deprivation and staying awake for unhealthy lengths of time. He was a medical student, after all. If he couldn’t survive on little to no sleep for days on end, he wouldn’t have made it past the first six months.

Plus, forcing oneself to stay awake of for unhealthy periods of time just makes finally getting into bed so much more exciting than normal.

When Regulus leaves Pandora’s flat at almost nine o’clock that night, all he is thinking about is how the sleep he is going to get tonight is going to be unmatched. As the cold air bites at his skin as he unlocks his car, all of his thoughts are on the cuddles he’s going to demand from Sylvester when he finally gets to curl up into his cosy bed for the first time in over 30 hours.

He’s barely got the key in the ignition when his phone rings, the dial tone shattering the pleasant silence around him. With a whine that he will never admit to, Regulus snatches his phone out of his jacket pocket roughly. The whine turns into a groan when he sees Euphemia’s name lit up on the screen.

Regulus loves the woman, but it is never, ever, a good sign when she phones.

It only means one thing.

Regulus already knows what’s going to happen when he swipes answer on the last ring.

"Euphemia," he answers, and he doesn’t even bother trying to hide the discontentment in his tone.  They’ve done this dance hundreds of times before, and Regulus has long stopped trying to feign optimism to stay in Euphemia’s good books. "To what do I owe this pleasure so late in the evening? I’m going to take a wild guess and say it’s not to invite me out for a drink."

"Regulus, I am so sorry to have to ask this of you," Euphemia greets, and Regulus will hand it to her; she sounds absolutely ragged. Regulus knows the ward and emergency was in chaos when he handed over to her and Dorcas this morning, so he can’t imagine the day shift has been entirely easy for them. "I know you were on shift last night that you picked up as extra, and you know I wouldn’t be asking you of this if I hadn’t exhausted all other options because you deserve some time off. The agency nurse covering tonight has phoned in sick, the other doctor I had on shift tonight has been called down to emergency because all the staff down there are down with the flu and I— I’m so sorry, darling, but is there any chance you can come in tonight?"

"You mean you and Dorcas don’t fancy doing 24-hour shifts?" Regulus tries to joke, but it comes out tired and feeble. "You’re slacking in your old age, Euphemia."

She chuckles, though it sounds breathless and tired.

"I’m so sorry. I know I said this morning that you deserved some time off after doing six shifts in a row, but I really don’t know who else to call. I thought we had tonight sorted, and anyone who would have been available was brought in today to cover other departments," she breaks off with a heavy sigh so bone-tired Regulus can’t find it in himself to even be slightly annoyed at her. He’s furious with the rest of the world, but not with Euphemia. "Everyone just keeps calling in sick."

"It’s cold and flu season, we shouldn’t expect any less," Regulus drawls, rubbing his dry and itchy eyes. "It’s okay. I get it. I can be there in half an hour."

"Please don’t rush, darling. You’re doing me a huge favour," Euphemia says. Her tone practically drips with relief and gratitude. "I don’t know how to make this up to you. Just— thank you."

"You want to make it up to me?" Regulus asks as he clips his seatbelt in. "Run down to the cafe and grab me the largest black coffee they offer and a sandwich. Any sandwich. Coffee and food, and all is forgiven."

"I don’t believe that will be enough to make up for this."

Regulus scoffs, "Oh, no. Absolutely not. Not even in the slightest, however caffeine is a decent enough bribe to get me to even make the journey and if you go now, you’ll catch them before they close and I’m forced to drink the dust in the staffroom they try to call instant coffee."

Euphemia laughs breezily through the phone.

"Deal. I’ll go now, I promise. Regulus, sweet, thank you so so much."

"Bandage your bleeding heart, Doctor Potter. Save the compassion for the patients and get your overworked ass down to the cafe. I’ll be there by 9:45 latest."

"My hero."

"I know. Feel free to rub it in everyone’s face."

When Regulus hangs up, he spots the new notification at the top of his phone.

James (21:04) serious question: marmite on pasta, yes or no?

Regulus (21:09) i refuse to sink to that level of absurdity by answering that question.

His phone pings with a reply before he’s down the end of Pandora’s road, but Regulus refuses to let himself acknowledge it. He’s so tired already, he’s worried if he doesn’t give his full attention and more to the road then he’ll wrap his car round a lamppost like a pretzel before he even makes it to the hospital.

He gets to the hospital in decent time due to it being so late, and Regulus counters the roads being quiet as a silver lining. He slugs up to the neurology floor in the elevator, and manages to dip into the mess room to change into some scrubs before anyone spots him.

He’s thankful that he was proactive enough to bring in a handful of clean long sleeve shirts on one of his middle shifts, so now he’s able to still wear one underneath his scrubs like he always does. He’s not meant to, of course. It’s against hospital regulations to have sleeves that reach below the elbow, but Regulus has been here long enough to be brave enough to twist the rules and wear them as long as he rolls up his sleeves when he’s doing work with the patients.

Slughorn pulled him up on it when he was a student, and said if Regulus was cold that’s what the white doctors coats were for. Regulus had almost laughed at him because the excuse of being cold was nonexistent when the ward radiators were permanently pumping out heat all day and all night. Regulus just showed  him the scars on his wrist and Slughorn had become more uncomfortable then a prude man watching a woman give birth.

Safe to say, no one mentioned the long sleeves again.

Regulus finds Euphemia at the reception desk, slumped in the chair and over the table top, face cradled in the cup of her hand. Her eyes are closed, face slack. She looks knackered, hair a mess and bags swollen under her eyes. She looked about 10 years older than she did when he handed over to her this morning.

Around them, the ward is quiet. The lights are dimmed, as they always are when it’s late to encourage the patients to shut up. From a glance at the board, Regulus can see that every bed on the ward is occupied.

Regulus sits down as gently as he can, but the movement disturbs Euphemia from the light sleep she must have dozed off into. She jerks before his butt is fully in the seat, eyes snapping open and body jolting up. For a small moment, she looks more disorientated than Regulus has ever seen her.

Then, her eyes fall off Regulus, and the startled look is replaced with one of warm.

"Sleeping on the job, are we?" Regulus smirks, easing back into the chair fully. "Very unprofessional of you, Doctor Potter."

"Oh, darling," she says, rubbing her eyes.

"Do not fear, your night and shining armour is here now," Regulus spots the coffee on the side with his name scribbled on it. He snatches it into his hand and takes a greedy gulp. "You look awful, by the way."

She scoffs half-heartedly. "Thank you. We haven’t had a day like today in a long time."

"Chaotic?"

"Doesn’t even begin to describe it," she sighs wearily. "I just can’t believe how much has gone wrong today, honestly."

"Well, spew me a tiny handover about the imbeciles currently occupying the beds and then feel free to get your overworked hind home so see Monty."

"Charming."

Euphemia whips through the handover, which Regulus appreciates she wants to hurry it so she can go home but his sleep-deprived mind can barely keep up.

His heart sinks when she admits at the end that he’s the only doctor on shift tonight with only one nurse and two health care assistants. Regulus knows nightshifts have skeleton crews, but the four of them means that there is more than half of the rest of the rota staff either off or in other departments.

"I’m so sorry, love," Euphemia apologises again. "I wish I could give you more help, but there is no one else I can phone to come in."

"It’s fine," Regulus smiles tightly, because it’s absolutely not fine and this night is going to be the hardest one of his career so far, but it’s not her fault.

She climbs out of the chair stiffly, rounding the desk before she stops again.

"You really are my hero," she says, and her face is crinkled with guilt and worry. "You look knackered, darling."

"Not as bad as you," he smiles. "Go on. Go home, you’ve done enough. Thank you for the coffee and the sandwich. We’ll survive without you for the night, get some beauty sleep before tomorrow."

"Thank you," she says again, and Regulus points towards the end of the ward with his already half-drunk coffee.

Once she’s gone, Regulus drags himself out of the chair and does the last of the ward round that was missed due to Euphemia dedicating all her energy to finding a doctor to cover the night shift. One of the HCA’s come and ask if he can help with a 'patients pain management', which is general health care assistant code for they want some painkillers but I don’t know if they’re allowed it, so as you’re the only adult on shift, can you deal with this please?

Regulus gives the guy some painkillers, which only ends with him being dragged into a 30 minute lecture from the guy giving a tangent lecture about blue-light from computers being used during the night and damaging peoples eyes and brain activity. Regulus doesn’t know how well he manages to hide his disinterest, but he clearly doesn’t put in enough effort towards the end as the guy breaks himself off to say,

"Sorry, Doc. Didn’t mean to ramble like that. You look absolutely wiped. Y’know."

Regulus can’t be bothered to hold his tongue about the fact that he’s fully aware he looks 'absolutely wiped' as he’s been awake for over 40 hours, so instead he just grunts roughly and storms out of the room.

He takes his time writing up the notes from the ward round, pausing to finish the rest of his coffee and scoff down the sandwich from Euphemia. His head is beginning to pound behind his eyes, and he outwardly signs when he realises he hasn't got anything in his locker to aid it. He spots the HCA loitering around the reception desk when he’s almost finished, looking lost and bored, so Regulus tells him to excuse himself for a few minute break. The kid runs off the ward like a gun has gone off.

Tossing the patient files down, Regulus pulls out his phone to see two missed texts from James.

James (21:10) reggie! please, i’m in the middle of a serious debate with pads and i need you on my side about this

James (22:34)really hoping that your lack of reply means you’ve finally gone home and gone to bed and not because the idea of maritime on pasta actually offends you

Regulus rolls his eyes.

Regulus (22:57) maritime on pasta gravelly offends me, i actually can’t imagine anything worse and i lived off hospital sandwiches for the entirety of my third year studying. so therefore, no to marmite on pasta

James (22:58) you don’t know what you’re missing!!!

James (22:58) what are you still doing up? i thought you said you were leaving pandora's at 9?

Regulus (22:59) i did, but i got called into work because london is filled with incompetent doctors that don’t understand the importance of turning up to their assigned shifts

When James doesn't reply after his usual five seconds, Regulus goes to message Barty to ask him if has any headache tablets in his locker down in cardio, but only gets as far as typing out half of the message when James' name flashes up on the screen.

"James? Why are you—"

"Why are you at the hospital?" James interrupts.

Regulus blinks in surprise. "I work here?"

"Yes, I know that!" James stresses, huffing. "I mean, why are you there again? You said this time last night you were on your sixth shift in a row and you’ve spent all day with Pandora. Have you even slept? How long have you now been awake? Is it even safe for you to be there?"

The onslaught of questions catch Regulus off guard. His mind buffers like someone has tampered with the switch. He’s left gaping and grasping rapidly for thoughts.

Finally, he sighs, heavy and deep. "I don't appreciate you doubting my abilities to work professionally, James—"

"Oh, come off it, Reg!" James whines. "You know I don’t mean it like that! I just—"

"Whatever you’re doing, stop it."

James makes a hurt noise over the phone. "Doing what?"

"This!" Regulus seethes. "Phoning me up while I’m at work and telling me how to do my job—"

"I’m not telling you how to do your job, Regulus," James grumbles. "I’m just worried!"

"There’s nothing to worry about."

"Of course," James mocks snappishly. "Of course! What’s there to worry about you doing your seventh shift in a row after being awake for, like, what, over 30 odd hours now?"

"40 hours, actually."

"Regulus!" He cries, and Regulus rolls his eyes at the dramatics. "Why are you doing that?"

"Because the agency bailed on your mother, so it was either I come in or she does a 36 hour shift!"

James makes another wounded noise. Regulus is caught between being infuriated that James is making such a big deal out of this and seriously questioning his ability to deliver safe practice to his patients tonight, but also overwhelmed with the fact that James is worried about him.

It makes him both comforted and nauseous.

"Look," Regulus sighs, rubbing his eyes as he leans on his elbows on the reception desk. "It’s not a big deal. It’s one more shift, and night shifts are usually more mellow than day shifts anyways. Plus, I’ve gone longer without any sleep, so you don’t need to worry your big head about."

"That brings me no comfort at all," James grumbles, and he genuinely does sound miserable. "And I don’t have a big head, thank you very much."

"You really do," Regulus teases tiredly. "Never mind that, though. You’ve survived 25 years with a head almost too big to fit through doors, I’m sure you’ll survive a few more."

"Lovely as always," James chuckles, and Regulus chest tightens at the sound. He caused that sound, and it shouldn’t feel so good. "Are you really okay though?"

Regulus breathes out heavily. "James—"

"No, seriously. Staying up this long isn’t good for the body, you’re going to make yourself sick doing this. And before you start, no I’m not trying to undermine your professional ability, so don’t start that again. I’m just worried about you. You’re going to be dead on your feet by the morning— or more dead than you feel now."

"You are seriously underestimating my ability to survive on little sleep now."

"It’s not 'little sleep', Reg, you’re surviving off no sleep!" James says. "Do you forget I was a medical student once too? I’ve had my fair share of overrunning shifts or doing ridiculous days on the trot, but even I draw the line under being awake for over 40 hours and shoving two 12 hour shifts in the middle of it! It’s going to be over 48 hours awake by the time you finish in the morning!"

"Yes, I know, James," Regulus rolls his eyes. "It’s not a big deal. I’ll survive, so don’t start losing sleep over it."

"Not a funny joke."

"It wasn’t a joke."

"I’m not laughing."

Regulus growls in frustration, fisting his hair.

"James—"

"I’m picking you up in the morning."

Regulus freezes in his hair tugging. "Pardon?"

"I said, I’m picking you up in the morning," James repeats, tone stern. "I don’t like you taking this shift after the last week you’ve had, but clearly you won’t listen to my reasonable argument. However, I won’t stand for you also driving yourself an hour across London to get home as well."

Regulus scoffs in disbelief. "You won’t stand for it?"

"It’s my duty of care as a paramedic to not let you drive knowing you will definitely end yourself in car crash with how tired you’re going to be," James argues. "I’m serious, Reg. I’ll be there at eight o’clock to pick you and make sure you get home in one piece, and if you refuse I will be phoning the police and saying you’re unfit to drive."

"Oh pour l'amour de Dieu (Oh, for goodness sake)—"

"Don’t you dare start talking French to me to distract me from this!" James snaps, but the laugh that follows diminishes any heat he held in his tone. "I’m not joking! I won’t sleep knowing you’re going to be getting behind a wheel in the morning."

"Boo for you then."

"Regulus," James pleads.

Regulus snarls, animalistic and low. "Fine! Fine, you can pick me up in the morning and drive me home so I don’t railroad my car. Honnêtement, je pensais que j'étais têtu, mais tu prends une putain de couronne, toi persistant, rageant (Honestly, I thought I was stubborn, but you take the fucking crown, you persistent, infuriating)—"

James chuckles, "Again, no idea what you’re saying, but it sounds lovely."

"I can assure you, what I was saying was anything but lovely."

"I’m happy with staying none the wiser," James replies, and he sounds so dopey and happy it makes Regulus’ insides swirl. "So, eight o’clock?"

"I’ll probably be late."

"I don’t mind waiting."

Of course you don’t.

"What am I supposed to do with my car?"

"I’ll drive you to pick it up after you’ve had a decent night sleep," James offers.

"Are you this generous to everyone?"

"Only lovely French doctors."

"I’ll give you Delacour’s number then."

"Who’s that?"

"Scary doctor down in emergency," Regulus smirks. "Considering I’m starting to realise you have a bit of a degrading kink, I’m sure you’ll get along just fine."

James sputters indignantly through the phone. "I do not have a degradation kink!"

"You call me lovely every time I insult you."

"Shut up."

"Ooo, fiesty," Regulus smirks, and then he spots the nurse heading towards the reception desk. "I’ve got to go."

"Text me!"

"Ne sois pas désespéré (Don’t be desperate)."

"No idea still!" James sing-songs, but Regulus doesn’t answer before he hangs up because the nurse has already come to stand in front of him.

"Can I help you?" Regulus asks, pocketing his phone.

Regulus, thankfully, was correct in his assumption when he told James that nightshifts can be more mellow than dayshifts. Someone was looking down on Regulus tonight, because apart from a young lad having a series of seizures that resulted in his cannula ripping out and spewing blood everywhere that instantly lead to the HCA in the room throwing up all over his shoes, nothing happened and eight o’clock rolled around slowly. Regulus supposes at least the night would have gone quicker if it had been busier, but he’s certainty relieved he wasn’t run off his feet as he doesn’t think he would have had the energy. He consumed more instant coffee since his phone call with James than he thinks he ever has and he’s surprisingly awake when he hands-over to Dorcas and Effie in the morning, both of which, look unsurprisingly refreshed.

"Sounds like a miracle," Dorcas muses, fiddling with her hearing aid in her ear. "About time we had a quiet shift on this ward."

"You’re a miracle worker, kiddo," Euphemia smiles.

"Lucky bastard, more like," Dorcas laughs, ruffling his hair brutishly. "Saved the night and got four discharges ready before our arrival. Anyone want to place bets on how long the beds will stay empty for?"

"No, and nor do I care," Regulus sighs. "I’m not planning on stepping foot in this place until Friday."

"Wow, three whole days off," Dorcas teases. "Check you out."

"I can see if I can cover your Friday shift, darling," Euphemia offers, "I saw the rota last night before I left. You’ve got another six day week coming up."

Regulus shakes his head. "I know, but it’s fine. I’m covering for Lestrange, so hopefully I’ll be in theatres more than I am here."

"Okay, darling, as long as you’re sure," Euphemia says, though she doesn’t sound approving. "Thank you again for last night."

"I’ve lost count how many times you’ve thanked me now," Regulus muses. "You’re starting to sound like a broken record."

"I'm going to keep saying it until the gratitude wears off," Euphemia smiles kindly. "You're one in a million, Doctor Black."

"Keep praising his arrogant ass and I'm going to have to turn my hearing aids off," Dorcas chides.

Regulus smirks at her, ducking when she goes to cuff his head.

"Don't be bitter, Meadows," he says as he climbs to his teeth, "Praise or no praise, we all know I'm better than you."

"Watch your back, Black!"

"Why? Incase you try to kiss my ass?" Regulus teases. "We're hardly each others types, Cas."

She rolls her eyes, and Euphemia is hiding her face behind her hands, but the shake of her shoulders give away enough.

"Have a lovely shift, ladies!" He calls as he slowly makes his way away from the desk.

It’s almost half eight by the time he gets changed back into yesterdays clothes. His feet ache, his muscles feel heavy and weak and there’s a pounding beginning behind his eyes again, telling him the headache tablets he sneakily swiped from the drug room are wearing off. Shoving the used scrubs in his bag to take home to wash, Regulus checks his phone again.

James (07:16) good morning almighty doctor! hope the nightshift was kind to you! your personal taxi will be outside a&e at 8 sharp :)

James (08:01) here! don’t worry if you overrun, i’m happy to argue with the staff if they tell me to move until your highness arrives!

Regulus rolls his eyes for what feels the millionth time in 48 hours.

Regulus (08:22) i’m done. you still parked in a&e?

When James tells back yes, he makes his way down. He drags his feet through the emergency department, barely paying attention to the overflowing hallways and beds dumped and left wherever they fit. It’s not his problem for three days, and he doesn’t have the brain capacity to wonder if it’s going to be better or worse by the time he comes back on the weekend.

When Regulus steps out of the hospital, the ambulance bays are half full and the sun is shining down so bright and sharp it makes his head feel like there are huge spikes behind his eyes. He didn’t assume it would be hard to spot James’ car if he’s the only imbecile parking in the busy drop off area, though he realises as his eyes adjust to the light that if there is more than one car, he won’t know which one is James.

There’s only one car though, and Regulus inwardly sighs.

A crystal clean dark grey Range Rover sits alone in the drop-off bay.

Of course James Potter drives a bloody Range Rover.

Regulus knows he manages to keep his face unimpressed as he approaches he car despite the fact his stomach is doing cartwheels over the fact that of course handsome James Potter drives a handsome Range Rover.

Fuck, Regulus is so screwed.

He see’s James grinning at him out the drivers window, and Regulus rolls his eyes defiantly as he makes his way to the passenger. Stepping up into the car, Regulus is enveloped by a bubble of warm, strawberry-smelling air.

James’ car smells like strawberries, and he’s got the heated seat on for Regulus in advance.

Regulus wants to die.

"Good morning, sunshine," James greets, and Regulus’ brain fuses out because it’s on the tip of his tongue to correct James that actually, he is the sunshine and Regulus is more like a miserable cloudy storm.

The sleep deprivation is really starting to get to him. Regulus is starting to get concerned he’s turning delirious.

James’ smile slowly slides down, his eyebrows pinching. Regulus realises a moment too late that he’s taking too long to answer, and has actually just spent a minute staring at the other guy.

"Reg?" James asks gently. "You okay?"

Regulus swallows around the heavy lump in his throat. His mouth is flooded with saliva.

"You drive a Range Rover," he blurts out, and the moment it leaves his mouth, he cringes.

James chuckles breathlessly. "I do. You like it? She’s my baby."

He strokes the steering wheel affectionately and Regulus feels like he’s melting.

He blames the heated seats, it’s only aiding the deliriousness from the lack of sleep.

"You look like the type to drive a Range Rover," Regulus says.

"That better not be an insult. Don’t you dare insult Del like that!"

Regulus side-eyes him. "Del?"

"Her name is Delilah," James nods, face stoney with seriousness. "Del for short, and she deserves your upmost respect."

Regulus chuckles. "Of course. My sincerest apologies. Del is lovely."

"She is, isn’t she," James beams, stroking the dashboard.

Regulus shakes his head. He shouldn’t be surprised James is the car-lover type. Regulus takes pride in his own car, of course, but he sure as hell hasn’t named it and he definitely doesn’t stroke the dashboard like it’s a cat.

"You look exhausted," James murmurs, and Regulus rolls his head against the headrest to look at him. "How the hell did you manage last nights shift?"

"Sheer arrogance and stubbornness?"

James barks a laugh. "That, and I’ll add a generous amount of dedication and willpower."

Regulus just hums in reply, sinking back into the seat as James starts the car and begins to roll it out of the emergency parking bay.

"Are you hungry?" James asks once they’re pulling out onto the main roads. "We could grab some breakfast before I take you home? You really should eat after being up for this long. Your body is seriously deprived of energy, though I appreciate if you just want to go home instead."

"Breakfast sounds fine," Regulus assures. He’s so hungry to the point that he’s borderline ravenous. "I don’t really fancy sitting in a restaurant though. If I have to be around people for much longer I fear I’ll commit murder and lose my licence."

"Not worried about the being arrested and prison part of that equation?"

"Losing my doctors licence would be worse."

"Of course," James laughs. "What do you fancy to eat?"

"Anywhere that does coffee."

James shakes his head adamantly. "No more coffee for you. You need vitamins, like orange juice or something. If you have anymore caffeine I’m worried you’ll land yourself in hospital from a bloody heart attack."

"But--"

"No 'but's!" James chides, holding up a silencing finger. Regulus' mouth slams shut as blush heats his cheeks and neck. "You need decent food and drink full of nutrition and value, and I know just the place. Do you trust me?"

Yes.

For some reason beyond knowledge, yes.

Already.

"No," Regulus spits out, mostly out of defiance against his own heart and delusional mind.

James just smiles at him, eyes off the road for long enough for Regulus to see the kindness and mischief there.

"Let me change your mind."

When James pulls up outside of a cafe, the only thing he does is double check Regulus eats meat and cheese before he's dashing out of the car. He leaves the keys in, the car running so the heating is still blasting. It's so toasty and quiet, and it surrounds him like a sedative blanket, comforting him to his bones. He doesn’t realise he’s closed his eyes and slumped down until the drivers door is opening and he’s bolting up straight.

"Were you asleep?" James asks, climbing in with a brown bag in his hands and a cup holder balanced between his forearm and chest. He looks worried and guilty. "I should have just taken you home. I’m so sorry, you’re absolutely exhausted and I wanted to get breakfast and—"

"Potter," Regulus interrupts. "Stop fluttering like a trapped butterfly and give me my breakfast."

"Right," James swallows. "Right. Okay. Sorry. Um, here, you take these. I’ll drive us somewhere with a better view. Is that okay?"

Regulus rolls his eyes, snatching the bag out of James’ hands and the drinks. "Stop apologising and drive. I’ve been awake for 49 hours, another few won’t hurt. I don’t detest from having a view while I eat my breakfast other than restaurant bins and morning commuters. Hence, put your license to good use and put your foot down."

James blinks in surprise, seemingly frozen for a moment. Then he grins, wide and beaming. He nods, "Alright then, sunshine. Let’s go."

"Is this another moment were I need to trust you?" Regulus asks as James pulls away from the curb.

"It is indeed," James grins. "Believe me, you won’t be disappointed."

Regulus hums disbelievingly. "Asking for my trust twice in one hour?"

"Well you’ve given it to me, haven’t you?"

"You could be poisoning and kidnapping me."

"Well, then you’re not very smart for falling for it, are you?"

"Watch it, Potter."

"Starting to learn even joking about your intelligence is a sharp shot for you."

"I said watch it."

"I can’t tell if you’re being mean because you’re overtired, hangry or if this is just another level of your genuine personality."

Regulus huffs, rolling his eyes. Smells from the food in the bag are wafting up in his face, making his stomach pinch with hunger. Whatever James got them for breakfast, it smells divine and Regulus is getting impatient to eat it.

James only drives for about 20 minutes. It takes Regulus up until he's parked on the side of the road for him to clock that they're in Nottinghill and only about 15 minutes from his apartment.

"Did you seriously drive us to Lancaster road?" He asks.

James nods, blushing as he pulls up the hand break and undoes his seat belt in a quick flash, barely giving Regulus enough time to spot the tension of muscles bold underneath his long sleeve t-shirt. Regulus does not state and he does not think about how James looks like he's definitely strong enough to throw Regulus with ease.

Like onto a table.

Or a bed.

Interesting.

"I love this road," James shrugs. "It's so pretty."

"It's practically a tourist attraction."

"Yeah, but," James sighs, taking the drinks out of his hand and placing them in their own cup holders between them. "It's currently nine-thirty in the morning and I don't see any tourists about. You cannot argue that this isn't a better view than the side of the road in Soho."

"I didn't disagree that's it's not nicer than Soho," Regulus shrugs. "I was just saying that it's a tourist attraction."

"I love how easy you are to please," James huffs, shaking his head though he is smiling. Regulus is starting to wonder if it's his automatic expression. Suddenly, he claps his hands sharply, causing Regulus to barely stifle his jolt of surprise. "Now! Ready for the best breakfast you've ever had?"

"You've set my standards so high so far."

"I can't tell if that's sarcasm, but I'm going to pretend that you're practically ready to combust with excitement. Now, open the bag, sunshine."

"Stop calling me sunshine," Regulus grumbles, but doesn't resist opening the bag. Looking in, he's not sure if he's supposed to be able to tell what the mystery breakfast is supposed to be when he sees two round-wrapped sheets of paper. He looks up at James through his eyelashes, "What is it?"

"Open one!" James says, and he's practically vibrating in his seat. Regulus refuses to find it cute and directs himself to pretend it isn't intriguing how excited someone can get over buying breakfast.

Regulus is worried if he makes James wait any longer then it will be James that actually combusts, so he reaches into the bag, pulls one out and unwraps it.

"A bagel?"

James scoffs, looking hurt. "A bagel? Oh, no. No, no, no! Regulus, this isn't just a bagel. Oh, no. This? This is the best breakfast bagel to serve the Earth! The ultimate breakfast dish, an unmatchable cuisine, a meal designed before it's time!"

Regulus blinks once. Twice. Three times.

"How is this the best breakfast bagel?"

James takes an exaggeratedly deep breathe, eyelashes fluttering for a moment as if to brace himself.

"Regulus, allow me to introduce to you and your sad little life—"

"Excuse me?"

"—the most delicious bagel that is delicately handcrafted with two sunny-side up eggs cooked to perfection, melted cheese, crispy bacon rashes, an original recipe of guacamole and drizzle of just the right amount of sriracha ketchup."

Regulus looks between the bagel and James, whose face is so lit up he resembles a metaphorical Christmas tree.

"Are you going to cry when I eat it and tell you it’s mediocre?"

"No, because you won’t say that," James grins. "You’re going to say it’s the best and you want more."

"And if I don’t?"

"Then, yes, I will probably cry."

Regulus hums, pursing his lips. "Interesting."

"Will you try it now?" James whines. "Please?"

Regulus tries not to focus on how much he likes it when James is begging, and instead unwraps the bagel more so he can take a decent bite.

James is watching with such intensity that Regulus can barely maintain a semi stable heartbeat. Skyrocketing and jabbing like a rabbit, his heart races under the glued fixture of James' eyes watching his every move, every micro expression on his face.

James' own skin is flushed and Regulus would do anything to know what's going on inside the older males head.

A few moments after he's swallowed and says nothing, James jolts in his seat like he wants to stand and move around in frustration but can't.

"Well?" He pleads. "What do you think?"

Regulus hums again, tilting his head. He can see James getting more and more wound up, like a child waiting patiently for a sweet snack and their parents teasing them over their decision.

Finally, he meets James' eyes.

He shrugs a lazy shoulder. "Pretty good."

James gapes at him. His face stays slack for so long Regulus is anticipating starting a FAST test of make sure his blood pressure didn't sky rocket so much during his excitment that he had a bloody stroke.

"Pretty good?" James shrieks. Regulus is pretty sure he's never heard someone reach such a high octave. "Pretty good? Regulus, how dare you! I can't believe you—"

James cute himself off when Regulus throws his head back and laughs.

"I'm joking, Potter," he chuckles, shaking his head. "You're so easy to wind up, it's embarrassing. Your precious sandwich is lovely—"

"Breakfast bagel," James corrects sulkily.

Regulus rolls his eyes. "Sorry. Your precious breakfast bagel is lovely, truly. Best bagel I've ever had."

James' pout quirks up. "I knew it! I knew you'd like it. Pretty French boy does have taste after all!"

"Watch it, Potter," Regulus warns, "or you'll be getting sriracha in your eyes before you finish your own meal."

James' eyes widen slightly, but his cheeks glow ruby red. He nods rapidly. "Noted."

They finish their bagels in silence, only speaking when Regulus grumbles about the smoothies instead of having coffee to which James ploughs into another tangent about  Regulus' general concerning caffeine intake.

"How do you afford a car like this?" Regulus asks,  in between slurping halfway down his smoothie. He won't admit aloud that it's pretty delicious, much like the bagel. "Aren’t you currently out of work?"

James shrugs, his own smoothie already finished. "I know I don’t look it, but I’m surprisingly immaculate at saving money. Worked hard when I was in the ambo service up North, saved like a starving man and bought this as a super belated graduation present for myself."

"You paid for this yourself by just saving your monthly wage?"

James flushes suddenly. "Okay, fine. I saved most of it and my grandparents made up for the rest. They wanted to get me something for my graduation and when I told them I wanted this car they helped out."

Regulus frowns. "Why do you look embarrassed about that?"

James shrugs again, looking ahead out the windscreen. "I'm the only one of my friends that comes from money. Well, Pads does too, but he doesn't have any contact with his family anymore. Moony and Wormtail have always had financial struggles growing up. Don't get me wrong, they've never gone without, and they have the most amazing families, but sometimes I feel like I grew up in a whole different world to them. I did, I guess. The playing field is always different when you grow up with wealthy parents and your grandparents like in a manor in Scotland."

"Having money is nothing to be ashamed of," Regulus says. "It’s your attitude about having money that matters."

Regulus wants to tell him then. He wonders, momentarily, if this is the time to tell James about his childhood. He’d be the first person in London to know the truth, to know where Regulus came from. No one knows that Regulus comes from old money, a wealthy family of lawyers and business men. No one knows that his family had more money growing up than they knew what to do with, and it poisoned them worse than any toxin in the world could.

James doesn’t seem to have been cursed the same way the Black’s have. None of the two Potters Regulus has met seem evenly remotely tarnished by their wealth, but perhaps that has more to do with the general poison that runs through the veins of anyone from the Ancient House of Black.

Regulus knows that when he came to London when he was 18, he started fresh. It took a while to adjust to having no money apart from what he earned himself, and the adjustment was both a physical and mental shock to him. He had to adapt fast, especially when he felt himself growing bitter by being surrounded by Evan and Barty, both of whom still had their ties with their filthy rich families and didn’t have to scrambled for a dime during the whole of their university years.

Regulus meant it though when he said to James that having money doesn’t matter, but its how you use it that does. It’s about if you rub it in peoples faces for your own pleasure and brag about never struggling, or if you keep it nonchalant and use to help out those with less than you.

"They’ve never made me feel bad about it," James says, "I just do. Automatically. When we were in school, and Wormtail had to get a job at 15 to help his parents with the rent because they couldn’t afford all of his siblings uniforms with the tax payers breathing down their necks. Or all the times Moony’s family have had to cancel Christmas because they’ve had too many credit cards maxed out to pay for his medications and treatments. I’ve never had that. I mean, we basically adopted Pads and my parents didn’t bat an eyelid at having to house and pay for another teenager. I just— shit, I— I’m making myself sound like a right bloody rich twat now. I sound like I’m fucking bragging, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean— I just—"

"Woah," Regulus shakes his head, "It’s fine, James. You’re not bragging, calm down."

"I just—"

"Stop it," Regulus interrupts firmly. "You don’t need to be ashamed about never struggling, and if the situation was different, you wouldn’t have to be ashamed about going without either. Just. . . accept what you have."

James stares at him for a moment, expression perplexed. Then, he laughs breathily, rubbing a hand down his face. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to go on a tangent."

Regulus shrugs. "It’s fine. We all need to get stuff off our chest once in a while."

"What about you?"

"What?"

"What about your family?" James asks. "I know you’re well off now, but what was it like growing up?"

Regulus stiffens. He should have anticipated this, although on the other hand, he’s rather pissed that James has asked.

"I don’t speak to any of my family anymore, so it doesn’t matter," he replies, hoping James will accept the answer. "What I have now is what I made for myself. I’d rather focus on that."

For a moment, James looks like he’s not going to let it go, and ask Regulus to tell him more. He looks intrigued, but also sad, which Regulus hates. There’s pity there, he can practically taste it coming off the older male in waves.

Finally, James’ expression softens, and his mouth stretches into a small smile.

"It’s sad you don’t speak to them anymore, but you’ve definitely proven you don’t need them," he says. "And I like that. What you said. To focus on what you made for yourself instead of what they did."

I don’t have much of a choice, Regulus almost says, but he manages to bite his tongue.

"Do you want me to drop you off home?" James asks, and Regulus sags in relief at the change of subject. "It’s almost 10. You should really go home and get some sleep."

"Yeah," Regulus sighs. "Probably a good idea. I can squeeze a few hours in before Pandora comes round later."

James’ eyes widen comically. "What? You’re doing stuff today? After the last 48 hours you’ve had?"

"Pandora needs help studying for her exam on Friday," Regulus replies. "She’s really stressed about it, not that she needs to be, mind you. She’s smart as a whip with this stuff, she’d probably ace it without even trying."

"Why does she need your help?"

"I think it’s more moral support."

"No one else can do it?" James asks.

Regulus looks at him sharply. "No. Barty and Evan are useless when it comes to midwifery. Her dad is out of town, so she can’t get moral support of him. It’s me or nothing, and I’ll be damned if she fails because she didn’t get the encouragement that she deserves."

"That’s. . . very noble."

Regulus rolls his eyes. "She deserved to qualify over a year ago, but she got dealt a shit hand of cards in second year and had to defer. She needs to do this, because she’s going to be the best midwife in the whole of London."

"Like you’re the best doctor?" James teases.

"Absolutely."

"I’m telling my mum you said that."

Regulus smirks. "She wouldn’t dare to disagree."

— tbc.