carpe diem

15

A coffee cup slams down on the desk, and if Regulus had the energy to be surprised, he would have jolted and smudged his notes.

But he does not.

Instead, he slowly looks up, meeting the vibrant, and slightly crazed eyes of Dorcas Meadows, and sighs.

"If that’s not for me, I’m going to throw it in your face and hope it burns your corneas."

"That doesn’t sound like someone who’s just assisted on a badass spinal surgery," she dramatically frowns. "That sounds more like an overworked, overstressed little tired doctor who’s clearly not had a break yet and is moments from assaulting his very kind friend who brought him a coffee from the cafe."

Regulus heaves a breath so heavy and deep his shoulder rise and sink visibly with the effort. "Is it a double espresso?"

She nods. "Of course."

"I love you, Meadows," he replies, snatching the cup and drinking.

"What’s got your nickers in a twist?" She asks as she sits down beside him, drinking loudly from her own cup.

"Look around," he grumbles. "The whole ward is in code red. We’ve got no free beds, no where near discharging anybody and emergency keep ringing up from downstairs saying they’re packed and need to start moving people up here."

"I know," she replies. "I just had to walk back through from being outside. The waiting room is rammed, and they’ve got beds lined up down the corridor. The world’s gone fucking mad today. The registrar said it’s a minimum of a seven hour wait for anything amber and green."

"Is there an apocalypse I’m not aware of?" Regulus asks. "Why the fuck is everyone suddenly sick today?"

Dorcas shakes her head. "No clue, but I wish I was too. Then I wouldn’t have to be here pretending that the entire hospital isn’t on the brink of bloody collapse."

"They reckon we’ll be in code black by swap over tonight," Regulus says as he finishes writing his notes, half-heartedly tossing the file back into the stack.

"Well," Dorcas hums, "we better pull our fingers out of our asses and get some of these people home then."

"Why don’t you say that to all the bloods and scans I’m currently waiting for?" Regulus slumps, cradling his head in his hands. "If I could get some results back, I could start sending people home or giving them prescriptions."

"Leave it to me," Dorcas nods, standing up.

Regulus frowns. "What are you—"

"I’m going to go and kick some ass down in scans and the lab," she says, gulping down the last of her coffee and dumping the cup in the bin. "No way am I having that Umbridge cunt come out of her office and start breathing down our necks for the bed backlog. I’m going to sort this out so she can stay in her cave."

"It’s more like a dungeon."

Dorcas chuckles, nodding as she storms away. Regulus feels sorry for the staff down in the scans and labs - they’re about to meet Hell.

The truth is: Regulus doesn’t know what’s happened this morning at the hospital. Over night, they couldn’t seem discharge quick enough to bring the new people onto the wards. The whole hospital seems to have come to a standstill with the patients already in beds being too sick to go home but new ones flooding into A&E like animals to a waterhole.

This happens every now and them. It seems to get bad for a few days, and then suddenly all the patients seem to get well at the same time and the flow of in-treatment-out seems to continue in it’s busy but effective state.

It doesn’t help that Regulus is absolutely exhausted, and dealing with this persistent and chaotic shit is not helping his already snappy mood.

It’s almost the end of January, and tomorrow night marks four week on the calendar since New Years.

Four weeks since Regulus’ entire world got turned upside down.

Four weeks since he saw his brother for the first time in six years.

Four weeks since he spoke to James.

Four weeks of utter, exhausting, bloody misery.

Safe to say, it’s been a horrible month, and Regulus has hated almost every minute of it.

After his blow up at Euphemia during their first shift together of the year, and after Regulus shamefully apologised for shouting at her in the mess room, things have at least been less awkward between the two of them compared to the first few hours of that infamous shift. 

Euphemia has stayed true to her word, and since that conversation, she hasn’t mentioned Sirius, James, or the drama surrounding the three of them. She’s continued as normal, treated Regulus as she always has. There’s been no looks of disappointment for ignoring her son, no looks of pity now she’s connected the dots that the abusive household her surrogate son grew up in is the same one he did too. It’s exactly as it always has been: doctor and chief, or as Dorcas likes to call her, everyones 'work mother'.

The only time they’ve re-mentioned the whole New-Years-showdown was when Regulus cracked a week ago and asked Euphemia how James is doing. She assured him James is doing as okay as he can, and then asked Regulus if he was going to ignore her son forever.

Regulus promised he wasn’t - and that was the truth. He just isn’t ready yet, he needs more time. Euphemia seemed satisfied enough with the answer.

Regulus doesn’t truly know how much time he’s going to need. He misses James, he craves to hear his voice and his laugh, or the feel of his touch against Regulus’ skin. He misses being excited about going back to his flat, knowing James is going to be there and make him feel so warm. He misses watching Bake Off together, or pretending to begrudgingly agree to watch old movies that James raves about and teases James about not liking them. He misses the suffocating smell of air freshener filling his flat when James burns the food he’s cooking them and then having to sit down and order something to be delivered.

Despite Barty still staying at the flat, Regulus still feels so lost.

Barty has been fine, or as fine as Barty can be. He’s clean, he at least understands the need for silence after a long day at work, and because he doesn’t ever attempt to even cook, the flat hasn’t once smelt of burnt or ruined food.

But Barty is not James.

Living with Barty for the last few weeks has made Regulus feel like he’s 19 again and sharing a house. It’s fun, at times, Regulus won’t lie. Barty has always been good fun, and he makes the most amazing cocktails to wash away the stress of a long hospital shift.

It’s been a good distraction for Regulus, and it came at a good time. The flat doesn’t feel so lonely with someone else living in it.

Though, Regulus is getting rather sick of Barty and the fact that the fully grown man is seemingly incapable of replacing the empty toilet roll when he's the last to use it.

It really does feel like he's living with a child.

A fun, slightly irresponsible, messy man-child.

Fantastic.

"Doctor Black?"

Regulus blinks back into awareness.

"Back from break already?" He asks Alex, who's leaning against the reception desk.

"Yes, thank you," she smiles. "Do you want to go now?"

"Meadow's isn't on the floor anymore. She's gone down to the labs to terrorise some people to get our blood works," he explains.

"That's fine," Alex shakes her head. "All the nurses are here, and you have your pager. You should go now, while it's at least a little bit calm."

"You've just jinxed it," he smirks.

"You better go asap then," she replies, grinning.

He sighs as he stands up, nodding to her. "Thank you, Alex."

"No problem. We can't have one of the best burning out already!" She winks playfully.

Regulus scoffs. He's well past burnt out, but he doesn't tell her so.

On the way down in the elevator, Regulus thumbs the packet of cigarettes in his scrub pocket. He's going to go out for a smoke, but decides half way down that he's going to go through A&E on the way out. He's kind of interested to see the chaos that Dorcas was talking about. Perhaps that will spark the fire in him like it has done her to start chasing people up and get patients out of the ward.

Stepping out of the elevator, he instantly sees that Dorcas hasn't been exaggerating.

Occupied beds locked and stood side to side with each other. The nurses desk in the centre is like the heart of a bee hive, a swarm of coloured scrubs scurrying around each other, fighting for phones and files. The floor is loud with the wailing of patients, the beeping of machines, the discussions of doctors and patients and paramedics handing over.

The whole floor looks like a tragic car wreck.

Weaving through the swarm of beds and running around staff, Regulus heads to the front to go out through the A&E waiting room. The waiting room is a different kind of chaos, the air thick with tension and the staff and patients alike all looking like they're ripping their hair out with frustration.

Then, Regulus spots him.

Sitting towards the back, slumped in a chair, is Remus.

Regulus frowns, slowing in his path to get outside.

Instantly, all the last month grudges go out of his mind, and suddenly he's nothing but Remus' doctor and concern grips him harder than the anger of New Year's ever did.

Regulus knows it's a bad sign to see Remus in A&E, and he knows this as he makes a quick bee-line to the man.

Remus doesn't look up when Regulus approaches, or even when he calls the older males name. Regulus crouches down in front of the slump figure.

"Remus?" He asks. When he gets nothing, he shakes Remus' knee. The man does nothing but sway with the motion of the subtle shake. Regulus leans up, grabbing Remus by the shoulder and shaking again. "Remus? Can you hear me?"

Concerned this is more than sleeping, a cold hand clasped round his chest with a sure anticipation, Regulus gently takes Remus' chin and lifts the man's head up.

Remus' face is grey, his lips matching the colour of his pale complexion instead of the healthy ruby red they should be. His eyes are half closed, fluttering and rolling back repeatedly. The man is completely lax, limbs limp and head heavy in Regulus' hand.

"Remus?" Regulus tries again. He's seen this before, and his early prognosis is not looking good. "Remus, buddy. I need you to answer me."

Still nothing. Not a sly of recognition. Regulus notes the tiny jolts and twitches of Remus' legs, the tick of his jaw under Regulus' fingertips.

Regulus looks around, knowing Remus wouldn't be here by himself like this. He feels a flash of anger that Remus is sitting here in this state. He appreciates the floor is busy and A&E is absolutely rammed, but Remus looks half dead even without knowing his history.

Regulus spots them by the reception desk. Even before New Years, he would have recognised that dark hair and voice anywhere.

"— you're not listening to me! He needs help! Why is no one helping him!" His brother is shouting, voice raised and hysterical.

The woman behind the reception desk looks incredibly unimpressed, glaring at Sirius with the cracking impatience of every other employee in the hospital.

"Sir," she tries, and clearly fails, to placate, "your friend needs to be triaged before we can do anything. As you can see, we are incredibly busy, so you'll need to wait—"

"This is fucking ridiculous!" Sirius screams suddenly. "He needs help now! He can't wait for someone to take his fucking temperature! Please, just get a fucking doctor in here now or I swear to God I will—"

Regulus watches as the reception lady's face turns cold, any fragment of sympathy and patience she had for Sirius instantly melting from her face. "Sir, do not threaten staff or I will have to call security."

"Call security!" Sirius bellows. "And while you're at it, call for a doctor too!"

Regulus sighs heavily. Trust his brother to get thrown out by security in bloody A&E. He needs to step in before the receptionist actually goes through with the threat. Sirius being thrown out isn't going to help Remus in the slightest, and as much as Regulus would rather chew his own hand off than speak to his brother right now, he's the best shot Regulus has at helping Remus.

"Sir, sitdown and someone will see to him as soon as it's his turn—"

"Sirius."

His brother whips around sharply at the call of his name. Regulus won't lie that his brother looks a wreck. Distraught, cheeks wet and shiny with tears, hair a mess from clearly running his hands through it frantically. Regulus doesn't have time to dwell on it, though.

Sirius seems to falter at the right of Regulus crouched in front of his sick friend. Regulus is of half mind to wait and see if Sirius will use this as an excuse to create a scene with him, but then he thinks about the guy sitting in front of him.

Sirius takes tentative steps towards them. "What are you—"

"Sirius, tell me what happened," Regulus says.

His brother blinks stupidly, and Regulus barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

"What?"

"Remus," Regulus clarifies shortly, tone impatient. "Tell me what's happened."

"He—" Sirius rasps, clearing his throat. "He had a seizure at his mums shop, and—"

"When?" Regulus asks. "Tonic clonic?"

Sirius nods shakily. "Y-yeah. About half an hour ago. It lasted about four minutes, but he— afterwards, he wasn't acting right so his mum drove us here."

"Has he been like this the whole time?"

Sirius nods again.

"What's his normal post-ictal stage like?"

"You're his doctor?" Sirius accuses. "Surely you know what he's like!"

"I see hundreds of epileptic patients every week, Sirius. I don't remember what each of their fucking individual symptoms are like. This is important, so tell me what his normal post-ictal stage is like!"

Sirius is clearly surprised at the outburst, but something in Regulus' tone or in the expression on his face but sing clear to Sirius enough the importance of answering the question.

"He— uh, he usually comes around in about 30 seconds. He's confused, drooling, y'know, that stuff, but he's awake. His eyes are open and he kind of just looks around for a while. He reaches out if you sit next to him, tries to hold onto something l-like you're hand."

"What's his usual recovery time?"

"About five minutes. 10 to be properly with it, although he's always very tired and normally goes to sleep."

"But he's been like this for half an hour?"

Sirius nods. "Somethings wrong, isn't it?"

Regulus draws in a sharp breath.

"He's having a status epilepticus. He needs to be seen immediately," Regulus says, standing up. Thankfully, a HCA comes scurrying past just as he does, so he grabs their arm. "I need you to go into resus and tell them we've got a status fit coming in from the waiting room. Tell them to get a space ready, and then bring a bed in here. Right now!"

The HCA nods, dashing off as fast as they appeared. 

Regulus crouches down, about to get his pen-torch out to check Remus' pupils, when suddenly, the older boys body locks up.

In a couple of seconds, Remus' body goes from occasionally twitching to full blown seizing, body locked and limbs kicking out.

"Help me get him on the floor," Regulus shouts, grabbing Remus' shoulders while Sirius practically throws himself forward to grab his legs.

Together, they get Remus quickly laid out on the laminate floor of the waiting room. The seizure is in full swing now, his neck strained unnaturally, every muscle in his face twitching horrifically. Regulus makes sure Remus is on his side, and is about to ask Sirius for his jacket to put under the man's head, but Sirius is already doing it.

"Sirius, grab a blanket from that pile," Regulus instructs as he gets out his phone and puts on a timer, not taking his eyes off Remus' jerking and twitching form that he's crouched next to. "I need you to hold it up around us like a kind of wall. We need to give him some privacy."

Sirius scrambles off the floor and in seconds, he's fumbling with the blanket and standing in front of Regulus and Remus, blocking them both from view from the onlookers of the waiting room.

Regulus looks at their timer. A minute has passed, technically more as Regulus didn't have the chance to put the timer on immediately, and Remus' body is still caught in the claws of his seizure.

"Come on," Regulus mutters lowly. "Come out of it."

"Regulus—"

"Don't," Regulus interrupts. "Not now."

Remus' lips are blue now. His breathing is shallow as if he's being strangled, and a red tinted saliva drools out of his mouth. Regulus knows it's all normal, but the concern from the bigger picture grips him.

Remus is in big trouble if he doesn't get help.

Regulus glances up in frustration. "Where is that fucking HCA with the bed!"

"Is he going to be okay?" Sirius asks, still standing with the blanket. Regulus knows the whole room knows what's happening behind their makeshift wall, especially with Remus' grunts and choking sounds. "I thought that status thing is when they seize for over five minutes?"

"It is also categorised if someone doesn't come out of there post-ictal phase before going back into another seizure," Regulus explains. "Remus didn't even recover in the slightest after his last one if he usually starts coming round after about 30 seconds. I'm also inclined to believe that when he was sitting here, he was still seizing, just not in this type of manor."

Thankfully, when the timer hits the two minute mark, Remus starts to slow down. At the same time, the HCA comes running in with a bed and three nurses in tow.

Regulus stays crouched down beside Remus when they are near, but he looks up at them and says, "25 year old male. Known and medicated epileptic. Tonic clonic fit approximately 35 minutes ago outside of hospital, lasted just over four minutes. Didn't recover in normal post-ictal phase, so was brought in. He seemed to be having a simple partial when I arrived, and then proceeded to enter another tonic-clonic, this time lasting about two and a half minutes."

They all nod, and as quickly as they appeared, without instruction, they're all crouching down and helping a limp and unconscious Remus onto a board to lift him onto the bed. The HCA takes the blanket off Sirius once Remus is on the bed, folding the blanket and placing it under Remus' head.

"Is there space in resus?" Regulus asks the nurses.

One of them nods. "Yes. We made room as soon as we were told. There's a team waiting for us. What's your speciality?"

"Neuro," Regulus replies. "Ironically."

The nurse smiles. "Thank God for that, eh?"

Thank God I was using my break to be nosey at how bad A&E was, otherwise I wouldn't have been here, Regulus thinks.

"Indeed. Right, let's get moving."

They spur into action, beginning to wheel Remus out of the waiting room and into the flurry of the A&E floor.

It's when they're entering resus, Remus' prone body on the bed disappearing through the double doors, that Regulus remembers about Sirius.

He isn't surprised that his brother followed, but Regulus doesn't hesitate to turn around and stop his brother from going further.

"You can't go in there," Regulus says.

"Like fuck I can't!" Sirius snaps. "I'm not leaving him, you asshole! You can't—"

"It's not personal," Regulus interrupts. "The doctors and nurses need to work on him to get him stable, and you will just be in the way. There is no family in resus. You need to go and speak to a nurse, they need Remus' details and they need them now. Someone will come and get you when he's stable."

"I—" Sirius' voice cracks painfully. His eyes full with tears again. "I need to—"

"What you need to do, is help us help Remus by making sure the nurses know everything they need to know," Regulus says.

Sirius opens his mouth again to argue, but Regulus sees the fight die in his eyes like a window shutter being closed. His brother slumps suddenly, so abrupt and low that Regulus almost reaches out to stop him from fully collapsing. Sirius' eyes dart over Regulus' shoulder to the now closed resus doors, and Regulus wonders if his brother is about to tackle him out of the way to get to Remus.

He's pleasantly surprised when that doesn't happen.

"Okay," Sirius nods, sounding as defeated and as tired as he looks. "Okay. I— I'll go and speak to the nurse."

"I'll send one out," Regulus assures, and then he turns and bursts through the resus doors.

After handing over to the resus staff and conducting a handful of emergency tests, Regulus' diagnosis is confirmed correct.

It takes IV and buccal infusions of Midazolam, Diazepam and Phenytoin to get Remus to stop seizing. His post-ictal stage is slow, but he eventually comes around. Regulus is just grateful the medication started working when it did, because Remus was barely 10 minutes away for himself or the anaesthesiologists from having to fully sedate him. Remus is barely aware before bloods, EEG's and monitoring is placed on him. The oxygen mask flooding his lungs with the oxygen he was deprived of during his seizures obscures his face, but Regulus is relieved to watch the oxygen saturation numbers climb steadily once he's officially out of the status stage.

"Good work, Doctor Black," the registrar says to him. "That was a good spot. He's a lucky lad that you were in A&E when you were."

"I wouldn't say anything that's happened to him today should be considered 'luck'," Regulus replies grimly.

"Is that his friend who was outside?"

Regulus nods wearily. In the flurry and adrenaline of Remus finally being seen and treated in resus, and all of Regulus' focus being on working with the other staff to get his convulsions to stop, Regulus genuinely forgot about his brother outside the doors.

If Regulus thought he was tired before, he feels shot to bits now.

Officially the worst work break of his life. 

"Do you want to update him, or do you want me to do it?"

"You do it," Regulus decides quickly. "I'll go up to neuro, keep working on discharging people. When he's been stable for long enough, we can get him up to us."

The registrar nods. "Sounds like a plan."

No way in hell is Regulus updating Sirius. The only reason he managed to put the whole brother feud as side just now was because his professional brain took over his emotional luggage. If Remus hadn't been in critical condition in the waiting room, Regulus is sure the sight of his brother would have sent his fist swinging into the older man's jaw.

Regulus slips out of resus and off the emergency floor like a trick of light through a window. He practically has to drag himself up to the neuro ward, feet feeling heavier than bricks on the end of his legs.

He isn't surprised when Dorcas glares at him as he approaches the neuro desk. She at least graces him the peace to sit his crumbling body into a chair before she pounces on him.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dorcas hisses. "Alex said you went for break like 40 minutes ago!"

"A regular was down in the waiting room, in the middle of a full blown status epilepticus," Regulus explains.

Dorcas' face falls suddenly. "Who?"

"Lupin."

"Oh my god," Dorcas whispers in horror. "Not our favourite."

Regulus nods. "Afraid so. He's stable now, he's in resus. I said I'd come up here and help with discharging so we can make room for him to come up here to be monitored."

"Well, you're in luck," she smiles. "During your sudden, however now validated reason for disappearing, I whipped some ass into shape down in the dungeons below and we've got all our bloods and scans back. I've already reviewed half, and Alex has helped me discharge who we can. There's still some to look over, but I'm hoping if they're all clear we can have around seven beds free to be filled in the next hour."

Regulus nods, chest easing with relief. "You're a God-send, Dorcas Meadows."

"I know," she winks.

"Let me help with the analysing," Regulus says, already reaching for the files.

"I can do it," she argues. "It sounds like you never got the break you went for. I can cover the floor for a little bit longer so you can take an actual break."

"I've decided breaks are overrated," Regulus grunts, shaking his head and taking the file on top of the pile. "I've got more of a chance having a rest sitting here looking at scans than I do trying to get out of this building undisturbed."

Dorcas snorts. "Sounds about right. Alright, suit yourself. Let's rock this bitch and get our floor in order."

They do just that. Dorcas was correct in her assumptions: within an hour, the two of them and the nurses have sent seven patients home with prescription slips and follow up appointments scheduled for later dates. The HCA's run around ragged redressing the beds and Regulus phones down to emergency to say they can send up seven patients when they're ready while Dorcas grabs them all coffees from the cafe.

When Dorcas insists he sneaks out for a five minute breather in suffice for his lost break earlier, Regulus takes it. He has a smoke round the back of the hospital in the usual, not going through A&E again. When he gets back, he sees that Remus is situated in one on the beds in the side room. Regulus assumes Sirius is in there with him too, and doesn't need visual confirmation to know he is not going in there anytime soon unless absolutely required.

Four weeks of avoiding his problems and the largest factor has planted itself right in the middle of his work place.

Regulus berates himself for ever thinking the hospital was his second home, because the familiar ward has instantly lost all protective value now.

He spots Remus’ file on the desk and snatches it up to scan it. Everything looks good, and he assures himself that if all goes well, then Remus will be discharged within a day or two. That’s a maximum of two days with him on the ward, and ultimately, his brother here too.

Regulus groans audibly. He can’t even throw a tantrum about this. He has to act normal, otherwise people are going to start questioning what his problem is. He’s not ready to tell people about the almost unbelievable chaos that is his life. His place of work has always been somewhere he can be himself without giving too much away. At the hospital, in his scrubs and white coat, he is Regulus Black, neurology doctor and future neurosurgeon.

He’s never been Rasalas here.

He’s not about to let that start now.

The chair beside him moves suddenly, and Regulus barely contains his startle as he catapults himself back into the present in time to see Dorcas sit down beside him. For the first time in a long time, the dark skinned girl looks haggard and drained.

"All his scans have come back clear," She says, voice tired but please.

Regulus already knows she’s talking about Remus. The older boy is the talk of the town today. Practically the star of the bloody ward.

"I saw," Regulus replies. "Must admit I'm surprised. He wasn't in the best shape downstairs."

"He's a lucky bastards, that's what he is," Dorcas snorts. "I've told him he needs to stay for at least 24 hours for monitoring. You agree?"

"Without a doubt," Regulus looks at her. "Is it anywhere in his history if he's had an episode like this before?"

"Not that I know of, but he said himself that he was admitted for status epilepticus once when he was 14."

"What was the trigger back then?"

"He said he had the flu, and the dehydration combined with his shot immune system had him having continuous seizures for hours."

"He given any ideas what the trigger could be this time?"

"You could ask him yourself you know," she quips. "I know I took over the job when he came up here, but he was your patient downstairs."

"No, it's fine," Regulus mumbles. "I was just curious."

"You saved his life, Reg. I'm sure he won't be scandalised if you ask him some questions about the history leading up to it."

Regulus just shakes his head. He has no reason to go into Remus’ room now, not know he’s out of danger and on the neuro ward where Dorcas is clearly happy to be his sole doctor.

Regulus doesn’t imagine it will go down well if he waltzes in as if his estranged brother isn’t sitting in the corner. Regulus also doesn’t want to even chance it. He’s done his job, he helped Remus when he needed a doctor and no one else was around.

Regulus keeps himself busy the rest of the shift. He feels distracted, only half-tuned into every conversation he has. Half of his mind is running a mile a minute, paranoid and occupied with the spiralling thoughts about his brother being in one of the side rooms and never more than 20 steps away from Regulus.

The tension between his shoulders never eases.

His brain never quietens, even after hours of seeing other patients, because his brother is here.

Here.

Here.

Here here here here here here here—

His mind can’t seem to decide if it’s angry or scared about the whole situation. The realisation that Sirius is in the same hospital, even worse the same ward, makes Regulus feels sick to his stomach. It’s his place of work, it’s a place where he has to be kind and patient and telling visitors to get the fuck out is severely frowned upon.

If Regulus has managed to reign it in for four years here without shouting at someone insufferable, he will be damned if he’s going to let Sirius ruin his sparkling reputation.

He kind of wishes that he hadn’t step in soon enough downstairs when Sirius was shouting at the receptionist so the woman would have had time to go through with her threat of getting him kicked out by security. His life would have been a lot easier if he’d let Sirius get thrown out earlier.

Regulus half hopes he kicks off again on the ward and actually gets thrown out.

It doesn’t happen.

The rest of the shift flies and drags at the same time. Regulus avoids Remus’ room like the plague, and thankfully Sirius does the first thing right in his life: he stays in the room and doesn’t come out into Regulus’ presence again.

Regulus supposes he should be upset Sirius hasn’t tracked him down to thank him for helping Remus, considering Regulus knows more than one doctor has informed Sirius of how sick Remus was downstairs and that Regulus did a good job helping when he did. However, Sirius can keep his gratitude. It’s a lot easier if he stays out of Regulus’ way now that Remus’ impending doom is averted.

The next day, Regulus is back at the hospital at six am. He feels like he hasn’t slept, and while the feeling of being emotionally and physically drained is familiar to Regulus after working various shifts in a row, the upcoming day has his stomach in knots.

Thankfully, visiting hours don’t start till nine, so Regulus has a few hours on shift before he is at risk of confronting his brother again.

The chaos and back-log of the day before seems to have eased. The ward is still full and A&E is busy downstairs, but everyone isn’t buzzing around with their ward managers breathing down their neck about the ominous 'code red and code black'.

Euphemia isn’t going to be in until 8:30, so Regulus is the only doctor on shift until then. The night nurse handing over to him also informs him that they’re three staff down due to sickness and other wards needing HCA’s and nurses, so Regulus is running a skeleton staff crew until past midday.

Regulus lasts approximately 43 minutes into his shift before he can’t avoid going into Remus’ room. The nurse has done the blood works and observations for him, but Regulus really needs to see and speak to the patient himself. It's protocol, it's routine and good practice. He just wishes it wasn't.

"Is he awake?" He asks the nurse as she hands him Remus’ updated chart. Regulus feels eased that the older boy had an easy night, and no more seizures have been documented since the two he had the day before.

The nurse nods. "He slept quite well through the night, but he’s been complaining of a headache for a few hours. The paracetamol we gave him earlier doesn’t seem to have done the job."

"Alright, I’ll see to him," Regulus nods, tucking the file under his arm and making a beeline for the side room.

Remus smiles when Regulus steps inside. He looks tired and fed-up, but a damn lot more better than the sorry state he was in the day before down in resus. 

"Morning," Regulus greets. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Bored," Remus grimaces through a smile. "Slightly pathetic?"

Regulus smiles slightly back. "You do look slightly pathetic in that gown. It really washes you out, and pale blue is really not your colour."

Remus barks a laugh. "You’re breaking my heart, doctor Black. Pale blue makes up half my wardrobe, what am I going to do now you’ve told me it doesn’t suit me?"

"Burn your wardrobe?" Regulus smirks. "Have you got any pain? The nurse mentioned a headache."

Remus nods solemnly.

"Can you describe the headache?"

"It aches everywhere, but mostly behind my eyes."

"They gave you paracetamol three hours ago, so you only need to wait another hour for another dose. I’ll make sure it’s given IV this time, and hopefully it’ll have more of an effect."

"Does it work like that?"

"No, but sometimes the fact it goes in through a needle in the arm makes patients trick themselves into thinking it does."

"You’ve just ruined the surprise for me."

"I quite enjoy ruining peoples fun, it’s a rather prominent personality trait of mine," Regulus drawls. "We’ve got you scheduled for another MRI scan at nine o’clock, but don’t worry about it, it’s just a precaution we’re taking to make sure nothing has changed. It’s just another tick in the box to make sure you can go home as soon as possible."

"And the headache?"

"You said it yourself," Regulus shrugs. "You’re tired, you had a rough day yesterday and despite the fact you slept most of the evening and night, it was due to pure exhaustion and probably wasn’t enough rest for the ordeal your body went through. I’m not worried about it, which is why I’m not bumping up your MRI time slot."

Remus sighs, slumping slightly on the bed. He flashes Regulus a small smile, "Thanks, Doc."

Regulus nods, busying himself with checking the IV in Remus’ arm to make sure it hasn’t tissued during the night.

"Thank you," Remus repeats, voice quieter.

"You’ve already said that."

"I meant for yesterday, not just now," Remus explains.

Regulus can’t stop the way his whole body seems to tense as if he’s been jabbed with a electric wire.

"The guys down in resus said you saved my life."

Regulus breathes heavily through his nose. "It’s my job. I’d be a pretty shit doctor if I didn’t."

"There was a floor of doctors and nurses down there with me. It was only you who noticed what was happening," Remus argues.

"Right place, right time," Regulus shrugs. "I was only down there because I was on my way out for a break and wanted to be nosey at the chaos in the department I’d been hearing about."

"Well, thank you," Remus repeats again. "For being a nosey bastard."

Regulus smiles despite himself. "You’re welcome."

"I do appreciate it though," Remus goes on, and Regulus’ palms start to sweat at the change in Remus’ tone. "It must have been difficult. With Sirius there, and all that."

"It’s part of being a doctor," Regulus sighs, "being able to switch off your emotions and put your personal life aside when someone is on the brink of permanent damage."

"It’s still difficult though. Sirius said he couldn’t believe you stopped to help."

Sirius was talking about him?

Of course he was, Regulus berates himself. He probably said a lot of things Remus isn’t going to repeat too.

"I wouldn’t be able to call myself a doctor if I didn’t," he argues weakly.

"You should talk to him," Remus says.

And this is exactly why Regulus has been avoiding this room.

He quickly strips his gloves and steps away from the bed, snatching up the file off the table.

"I don’t think so," he mutters coldly.

"Regulus—"

"Don’t even think about it," he snaps. "You are a patient, I am one of your doctors. You are here because you are sick, not because we need to talk about him."

"He’s your brother," Remus whispers. "You guys are family. You should talk."

"We should not," Regulus replies firmly.

"From what I’ve heard, you're both all you’ve got left," Remus doesn’t seem offended by Regulus’ harsh tone or stern interruptions. "You both deserve to say your part, because it sounds like you’ve both got different interpretations of the same story. I think. . . I think you both took each others forms of protecting each other the wrong way."

"You don’t know anything about this, Remus."

"Probably not," Remus shrugs. "But I know Sirius, and I know when James says you’re a good person, and you’re not who Sirius thinks you are, that James is telling the truth. You proved yesterday to him that you’re not the person he thinks he knows. Talking to him will change his mind."

"I don’t want to change his mind," Regulus replies, and he’s aware of how toneless he sounds. "I don’t care if he continues to hate the imaginary version of me he’s made up. He can keep believing I’m the devil reincarnated for all I care."

"You deserve to say your side."

"He doesn’t deserve forgiveness."

"What about James?"

Regulus steps back as if he’s been slapped.

"Don’t," he whispers coldly.

"Hurting Sirius will hurt James, and Sirius hating you also hurts James."

"That’s not my fault," Regulus says. "I didn’t make Sirius lie to you all."

"Maybe not," Remus shrugs. "But something that happened between the two of you did, and only you and Sirius know about it."

Regulus scoffs. Nothing happened between them, Sirius just decided one day that Regulus wasn’t worth sticking around for.

"Just think about it," Remus begs

Regulus glares at him. "I’d rather not."

He walks out before Remus can attempt to convince him again.

Only an hour into the shift, and Regulus’ mood is soured.

Irreversibly, properly, soured.

Absolutely brilliant.

By the time Euphemia arrives, Regulus is busy discussing with Slughorn about a spinal fusion with a patient that came in for a check up appointment following a car accident they had over six months ago. Regulus was skeptical with them at first, but after the patient began to discuss their symptoms, Regulus didn’t hesitate to get them into an CT scan. The results showed two of the lower vertebrae’s closer, confirming for Regulus that the patient is suffering a spinal decompression. Slughorn agrees with the surgery, and Regulus then has to spend 30 minutes explaining the situation to the patient and getting them booked into the ward in a bed.

Regulus has just finished asking one of the nurses to get a set of bloods and observations from the new spinal fusion patient when he spots Euphemia coming out of Remus’ room.

Regulus suddenly feels like he's bracing himself for a fight. He knows that Euphemia has no vendetta against him, but he suddenly feels very alone knowing that Sirius and Remus are here too. It feels like three against one. Regulus tells himself to not get his hackles up just yet, only because him going on the instant defence against her is only going to fuel his brother to come out of the side room.

When he sees that she's coming over to the desk, he looks down at the file and pretends to read it.

"Good morning, sweetie," she says, and he sees the movement out of the corner of his eye as she sits down beside him. "Who’s the new lady you’ve just brought into bay two?"

He feels suddenly stupid.

Of course Euphemia isn't going to do anything. The problem is behind that closed door, not the woman who's taken him under her wing and allowed her to scream bloody murder at her in the mess room. 

"You might remember her, actually," Regulus starts, handing her the file. "Alice Voice. Mid forties, came in about six months ago from a car crash. She came for a check up this morning, and at the right time too, because her symptoms and CT scan showed she’s got a lovely case of spinal compression. Slughorn is getting her booked in for tomorrow."

"I remember," Euphemia nods, reading the file. "She must have been walking round in a lot of pain for a while now. Why didn’t she come in sooner?"

Regulus shrugs. "She said she didn’t think it was that serious. You had a handover?"

"Yes. Alex gave me one when I came in."

"You been to see Remus?" He asks, despite knowing already.

"Of course," she smiles sadly. "Poor love. I knew about it yesterday, Sirius phoned me from here, wanting me to explain it all to him."

She's bold enough to mention his brother by name. Regulus doesn't know what to make of that. 

"The doctors downstairs would have answered all his questions," Regulus frowns.

"He was scared. I think he just wanted to talk to someone familiar while Remus was down in resus," she smiles at him, "Good work, by the way."

"Why is everyone so impressed I can recognise basic neurological conditions?" Regulus grumbles. "I’m not a first year student anymore. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. When Slughorn lets me scrub in tomorrow and do half the fusion surgery, then people can start telling me 'good work'."

Euphemia chuckles. "You need to start taking credit for your good work in this job. Successful outcomes and impressive saves are the only thing that keeps doctors afloat."

"I haven’t felt afloat in a long time, Potter," he gives her a stiff smile, getting up and swiping the latest stroke patient file. "Don’t worry about me."

Four CT scans, five MRI’s, six blood work results, eight neurological exams, five medications prescribed and patients then discharged, and four conversations on the phone to other wards about their queries for patients needing to be seen by a neurologist later, and Regulus is finally granted a free five minutes to sit down and debate his pitiful existence and deprivation of decent coffee while he scribbles down frantically some notes he should have done hours ago.

Euphemia seems as run off her feet as Regulus, and with her being so busy, it’s meant that Sirius has stayed in Remus’ room and out of the way since Regulus saw him stroll in at a couple of minutes past nine.

"Did bay fours scans come back?" Euphemia asks as she leans on the reception desk, shoving her glasses on her hair and rubbing her eyes vigorously.

"They did," Regulus hands them over. "Nothing to get excited over, I'm afraid. Good for them, kind of boring for us."

"How morbid of you," she smiles. "They ready to discharge?"

"I'm honestly surprised they even made it up to the ward. Emergency could have discharged them hours ago without sending them on a rat-run up here."

"They're just being cautious, dear," she muses.

Regulus grunts in reply.

Euphemia looks at him, head tilted. Her wispy dark hair is thick and wild as it escapes from behind her glasses and haphazardly covers her forehead.

"Everything alright, darling?"

"Just fine," he sighs. He knows exactly what she's asking without saying it out loud, but he isn't going to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it. Of course he's not okay: his brother is on the ward strolling around and making Regulus want to shove a cannula needle in his eye. However, acknowledging it only proves Euphemia's worry. If Regulus pretends nonchalance for long enough, then he might finally start to actually feel it too.

"Do you want a coffee?" Euphemia asks.

"Are you offering because you were already planning on going or offering because you feel sorry for me right now?"

"Would you believe me if I said both?" She smiles.

Regulus sighs heavily, breathing out the entirety of his lungs until they ache. "Black americano please."

"Of course," she nods, handing the file back and walking off with a wink.

Regulus leans back in the chair with a sigh when she's gone. He pulls the sleeves under his scrubs over his hands and rubs his arms, feeling cold. His head is pounding with a subtle, but relentless headache.

He barely gets a few minutes of peace because a fresh-out-the-box HCA whom he's been seen shadowing a nurse comes up to him asking him if he could help them cannulate a patient in a bay. Regulus relents and nods, despite how much he wants to scream at them to piss off and find someone else to help. The HCA looks pitiful, so nervous and scared, that Regulus can't find it in himself to be mean about it. The HCA looks like they're moments away from bursting into tears like a child, and Regulus doesn't have the energy to deal with the sobbing colleague if he were to snap at them.

When he's done, he's stripping his gloves and stepping out of the bay when he notices them.

Walking through the ward, side by side and muttering under their breaths about something, is two faces Regulus wasn't ready to see just yet.

He's of half mind to jump back behind the curtain. He wants to hide, to slip away before they spot him. He could hide and then tell Euphemia he's sick and needs to go home.

His spiralling options fly out the window when they look over. 

James stops first, so abrupt that the guy beside him jolts to grab him as he's fallen.

"Reg. . ." James breathes, cheeks flushing. He smiles, small and hesitant, but it's there and Regulus just melts. "Hi."

Regulus feels like the floor has disappeared beneath his feet. His body feels like it's free falling, down and down and down and down and down—

He’s realises he’s staring and jolts. He should say something, anything. Preferably hi or hello. He needs to respond, but the sight of James here and now has made everything in his body disconnect.

"Er, I'll leave you to it, mate," the other guy, with a Scottish accent so thick Regulus can barely understand him, says and pats James on the shoulder. "Shout if you need anything, aight?"

"Yeah," James smiles at the guy. "Thanks, Pete. I'll be fine. I'll see you in there."

Pete - Peter? Worm-what's his face? Regulus suddenly recalls - nods and glances at Regulus. It shocks the doctor that there is no malice in his expression. It's not unkind, or intimidating, but there isn't a warmth there brings Regulus comfort. Pete looks torn, sympathetic but also disappointed. Regulus barely refrains from shifting underneath the short gaze before Pete finally walks off.

When it's just the two of them, Regulus feels like he can't move.

What is James doing here?

Why is he—

"Remus," Regulus breathes aloud, "You’re here for Remus?"

James nods. "Me and Pete were going to come yesterday, but we didn’t want to overwhelm him after. . . y’know. He said he might be going home tonight, though?"

"Hopefully," Regulus nods, voice strained. "If everything still looks good, then he can go home."

"That’s good," James nods awkwardly. He's looking at Regulus like he wants to keep staring for long but also too nervous too. His eyes keep flicking from the floor to Regulus' face like a twitchy tick. "Thank you for helping him."

Regulus tenses, feeling his face harden.

"Do you think so little of me that I wouldn’t have?"

"No! Fuck— no!" James eyes widen with horror. "Of course not!"

Regulus scoffs. "I’m not that much of a heartless person who would have walked past him like that just because of Sirius."

"I know," James murmurs.

Regulus hisses in frustration, barely containing the instinct to throw his hands up in exasperation. "Well, people clearly doubt it because everyone keeps congratulating me on being a decent fucking doctor!"

"I never doubted you could be, or that you are," James shakes his head.

Silence settles between them. It feels awkward, wrong. Regulus hasn't felt so uncomfortable around James, not even when he turned up at the older boys flat to confess the reason he ran out on James in the night. Even then, Regulus didn't feel the need to escape so bad.

"How have you been?" James asks.

"Fucking fantastic," Regulus snaps. "You?"

"Pretty shit,"James shrugs.

"I. . ." Regulus cuts off, feeling James' admission like a punch to the gut. He looks at the slight shine of grease in James' hair, the bags under his eyes, the lack of sparkle in the hazel rings. "I’m sorry."

James sighs, shaking his head. "You don’t need to be—"

"Please don’t," Regulus whispers.

James' face falls. He licks his lips, head ducking as he looks at the floor between them. His next words coming out in barely a croak.

"Can we talk?" He asks, eyes shifting to the busy ward around them. "Somewhere private?"

Regulus is aware it's a stupid idea. He's aware he's torn between dragging James into a cupboard and crying like a child into his chest or ripping his clothes off and fucking him like an animal. He knows it won't end well, even if he is able to contain himself, but he does it anyways.

He leads James down into the mess room, grateful to find it empty.

James looks more out of place than ever. It's unnerving, and makes Regulus feel like he's forced this on him. 

"Do you hate me?" James ask suddenly.

Yes.

No.

Maybe.

No more than I hate myself.

"I did," Regulus admits quietly. He see's James jerk like Regulus reached out and slapped him. It makes Regulus' ache chest, seeing that he's hurting James so badly. It's been easy to pretend he doesn't care the whole time they've been apart, but seeing it now, Regulus hates it. "But then I kind of blew up at your mum and she set the story straight. Turns out I got your role in the whole thing a bit twisted."

James nods. Regulus doesn't know if it was the right thing to say, honestly clearly isn't the best policy right now, because he knows all James is clinging to is that Regulus hated him for a moment. Even if it didn't last long, he knows it hurt him to hear.

"Can you forgive me?"

Regulus blinks. "There’s nothing to forgive."

James looks up at him. He looks so sad, so pained.  "Then why do you look like seeing me is hurting you?"

Regulus' breathe catches in his throat. His heart is racing.

"Because I can’t have you without him," Regulus whispers.

James' eyes widen. "Regulus. . ."

"He had you first—"

"I’m a person, Regulus," James says slowly, words clear as if he's trying to explain something obvious to a indifferent child. "I’m not an object. I’m a person. No one 'had' me first."

Regulus shakes his head again. "I can’t share you."

"Fucking hell!" James cries. "What do you think me and Sirius get up to when we’re together? Fucking fondle with each others dicks and practice sex moves? What do you mean you can’t 'share me'?"

"You don’t get it!" Regulus hisses, eyes burning with tears. "I can’t be around him, James! I don’t want him in my life, I don’t even like that he’s in the same fucking city as me! I can’t see you without having to see him!"

James shakes his head. "We can make sure—"

"Don’t," Regulus croaks. "Don’t do that. Don’t split yourself in half for other people, James."

"But I want to be with you."

"I want to be with you too, but Sirius. . . Sirius is important to you too," Regulus rasps, willing the tears in his eyes to go away. He can't believe that James is making him cry at work. "You shouldn’t have to choose."

"You also shouldn’t be choosing for me," James argues. "You're making the choices for me right now."

"I’m doing this for me too, James," Regulus says in frustration. "I can’t be around him—"

"If you two would just talk—"

"Talk?" Regulus cries. "You want me to talk to him?"

"Yes!" James shouts suddenly, voice booming. "You both need to talk! You’re both fucked up, Reg! Your parents messed you both up and you’re blaming each other! You’re both hurt, and you’re both too proud to admit that maybe the other one has a valid fucking point!"

Regulus flinches at every word James says.

"There is nothing valid in what he did."

"You wouldn’t know," James says. "You haven’t talked to him."

"He did this. He ran away from me," Regulus seethes. "He made his bed six years ago, and he can fucking well rot it in!"

James is looking at him like he doesn't recognise the person in front of him anymore.

"You’d rather lose me than try and work it out with him?"

It's a small question, but it's like the last stone launched at the cracked plane of glass. Regulus feels himself shatter at the impact, falling apart into a hundred pieces.

No, he wants to scream. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose the first person who made me realise there is more to life and more to find.

I don't want to lose the first person who's made me feel like there is a reason to keep my heart beating.

I don't want to lose the feeling of electricity when you touch my bare skin, or the warmth that spreads through me like wildfire when you kiss my lips and cheeks and hands.

I don't want to lose the thing that makes me feel warm in this cold fucking world.

Regulus wants to collapse. He wants to give in to the weakness in his legs and sink to the floor. He wants to scream, cry, shout, wail in hysteria like a mother who's grieving a dead child. He wants to scream at the world for allowing something to come in-between him and the sun.

"This is what I meant when I said that I don't do this kind of stuff," he whispers. He can't tell if he's saying it to James or confirming it to himself. "People always fucking mess up. Getting close to people only ends up leaving me on my own again."

"I don't want you on your own," James argues. "You're not listening to me, Reg. I want to be with you! I want to make this work. If you're really not blaming me, then you're only punishing the two of us by doing this."

Regulus takes a shuddering breathe, shaking and feeling as weak as a newborn. He squeezes his eyes closed because looking at James is making his heart ache so bad. The temptation to run into his arms, to beg him to curl his body around him and just hold is too much. He feels desperate.

"Please," James says, voice soft. "I'm begging you, Reg. It could work, we could work. I don't want to be without you. Please, just— even if the only thing you two do is scream at each other, you need to talk. You're both bottling it up, and I'm. . . I'm scared."

Regulus shakes his head, eyes still closed. He's scared if he opens them again then he won't be able to hide the tears burning them. "I don't want to hear his excuses."

"He probably doesn't want to hear yours either," James whispers, and despite the rude admission, he doesn't sound like he's enjoyed saying it. "But if you've ever cared about me, you'd try."

Regulus' eyes snap open. He feels a chill run down his spine.

"Don't manipulate me," he whispers coldly.

"I've said all of this to Sirius too," James replies. "I don't blame you, Reg. Yes, if you'd opened up a bit months ago, then a lot of this could have been avoided but I'm not holding that against you. You're private, and I know you have good reason to be."

"What did Sirius say?" Regulus asks. He mentally kicks himself for doing so, but he needs to know. "When you asked him to speak to me?"

James flushes instantly. He opens his mouth, but closes it a moment later with a grimace.

Regulus barely manages to swallow down the manic laugh in his throat.

James' silence answers more than words could.

"Exactly," he scoffs bitterly. "Talking won't work. The bridge is already burned, James."

"Bridges can be rebuilt."

"I fucking hate your optimism sometimes."

James smiles. "This past month has been hell. I don't want to keep doing this. If you guys talk and it can't be worked out, then fine. But. . . I need you both to try."

Regulus crosses his arms, giving James a pointed look. "And what happens if we can't work it out?"

"I don't know," James murmurs. Then, he shrugs, "I'll figure it out."

Regulus sighs.

His beeper goes off in his pocket.

"Duty calls?" James smiles, but it's weak and sad.

"Yeah," Regulus says lamely. He fishes it out and looks at the small wording flashing up at him. "Emergency surgery."

"That's great, right?" James asks. "Getting to be involved?"

"Yeah," Regulus says again. "I won't be back by the time they discharge Remus, so say good luck to him from me."

"I will," James replies instantly. "Bye, Reg."

Regulus doesn't say it back. He can't. The words get stuck in his throat like a golfball. He just looks at James, drinking in every sight and curve and hair on him. He soaks it up like a sponge, as if it's his last time seeing it.

Deep down, Regulus doesn't think too long if it is.

James won't have him with Sirius around. Regulus knows his place, he knows the hierarchy. It's been set in stone since his brother was 11, and Regulus has always been a second choice since the two met in school.

Regulus turns around when he spots the tears in James' eyes. He knows he makes a wounded noise as he leaves, but he can't help it.

James is right: he's only hurting the two of them, but he doesn't know how to avoid it. It will only hurt James more trying to stick around. James doesn't want to see the real relationship between Regulus and Sirius, he wants them both and for the both of them to have each other. It won't be like that, Regulus knows this. Sirius won't share, and neither will Regulus. They've been out of each others lives for too long, and Sirius clearly has his own opinion on why they don't speak.

It will hurt James more in the long run if they try to make it work.

This is for the best, Regulus tells himself as he rubs his sore eyes and makes his way to surgery.

Regulus finishes 45 minutes late. The surgery was fantastic, and the best thing that's happened to him since New Years. He just doesn't have the energy to be happy about it.

He spent half of the surgery in a complete daze, completely distracted by the events that happened moments before he was paged. He's surprised he managed to stay focused even a fraction enough that no one noticed and he wasn't kicked out.

When he leaves, visitation hours are over and Euphemia has left. The hospital is safe and clean and Regulus walks out with one thing in mind: his bed. Barty and his energy can be damned tonight, Regulus needs a shot of vodka and his bed. He'd have a long, ugly cry in the shower too, but he's not sure if he has the strength in his legs to stand up for it.

Regulus drives slow on the way home. His legs ache as they move against the pedals, and he has to keep rubbing his eyes to stop them from closing. He feels so drained, so frayed at the edges and falling apart at the seams like a thrown away child's teddy.

The last two days have been the hardest of Regulus' life. The only time it felt like he didn't want to sink into the floor was when Remus was actually seizing and he could slip into a professional, oblivious mindset that put aside all the other shit going on. The moment the realisation of events sunk in and Remus - and therefore Sirius - were on the ward, Regulus felt like he was trying to fight a blazing fire without the right equipment.

Barty was on a night shift last night, so Regulus didn't have time to tell him about Remus turning up before he went back in today. He knows he has lots to fill Barty in on, and part of him is eager to get it all out in the open just so he can finally say it all out loud. He wants to scream about it, shout, have a long, painful cry. And then he wants to sleep.

He hopes Barty can grant him that. Regulus just needs a soundboard tonight, and then someone to stroke his hair while he dozes off.

He hasn’t even opened his front door when the sounds coming from the other side confirms to Regulus that he is not getting his quiet night in.

Inside, he shouldn’t be surprised to see Pandora in the kitchen, Evan and Barty sitting on the bar stools and a open cocktail mixers on the side.

He doesn’t even need to open his mouth and ask. They must see the exasperation on his face when all turn to see him closing the front door behind him.

"It’s Saturday night and none of us have work tomorrow," Barty defends quickly. "Pandora was bored, Evan was hungry, and I was lonely."

"The only reasonable answer to that series of events was to have a fajita night," Evan grins. "Oh, and martinis, of course."

"Of course," Regulus echoes, though far more flat and deadpan than Evan’s cheery tone.

Regulus bypasses them all as he walks to his room. He’d storm past and make a scene to make it obvious to them he doesn’t appreciate them using his flat as a hangout when he’s the one who’s been on shift all day, but he doesn’t have the oomph to walk any faster than a snails pace.

He dumps his bag on the bed with a pathetic toss, dropping down next to it with a groan. He slumps, head dropping into his hands, elbows digging into his thighs. He wants to crawl up the bed and bury himself under the covers. He wants to sink into the mattress, to disappear and not have to face anyone or anything.

He can’t do that though, because he has three friends in his kitchen. Three people, uninvited, who have invaded his private space to make bloody Mexican food and drink his gin.

"Hey."

Regulus looks up through his fringe. Barty stands at the door, leaning against the door frame. Regulus feels a spike of annoyance in his stomach.

"I know your place is fucked from your neighbours flood, but couldn’t you guys have gone round one of the other twos flats?" Regulus snarls, running both his hands through his hair and leaning back to look at the bedroom ceiling. "I really didn’t fucking want to do this tonight."

He hears Barty sigh softly.

"I know you don’t want it," the older boy says, "but I think you need it."

Regulus’ head snaps down and he stares at his friend what he hopes is a look hard enough to wound.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I haven’t seen you for days, Reg, but even without seeing you I’ve known something is wrong," Barty explains, unbothered by Regulus’ harsh tone. "I don’t know what’s happened, but Dorcas text me this morning to say to keep an eye on you. She said you were acting weird, unusually distracted."

Regulus kisses his teeth in frustration. "Dorcas shouldn’t have done that."

"Has something happened?" Barty asks.

Regulus closes his eyes slowly. He feels the fight drain out of him in an instant.

"Yes," he whispers. He doesn’t have the fire to lie anymore.

Barty seems to give him a moment, just silently standing by the door. "You going to talk about it?"

"Even if I don’t, you guys are going to make me," Regulus sighs, opening his eyes.

Barty smiles. "Like I said, I think you need us here tonight."

He’s probably right. Regulus knows, and he also hates how his friends seem to know him better than himself sometimes. It’s been a long, hard few days. Being alone tonight probably wouldn’t make him feel better.

He just wishes it would.

"Just make sure Pandora makes the martinis extra strong."

"I’ll make yours," Barty says, and Regulus can’t help but groan.

"I said strong, not lethal."

"You love it lethal, Black," Barty winks. "Don’t lie."

"Get out."

"Don’t take too long, your highness!" Barty cheers, already leaning out the door. "For every minute you stall, I put another shot of vodka in your martini!"

"Martinis are made of gin?" Regulus hurries to remind him, but Barty is already gone.

Two hours later, after the fajitas are eaten and many martinis are drank, Regulus explains the last two days to them all. They’re in the living room, Barty and Evan laying on the floor, Regulus reclined on the sofa with his head in Pandora’s lap as she soothingly strokes his hair as he chokes out the spiralling events of Remus in hospital.

"How the fuck did you not punch him?"

"Who?" Regulus asks. "Sirius, or James?"

"Sirius!" Barty shouts. "The cunt was right there! For two days!"

"We were in a hospital, Barty," Regulus deadpans.

"Therefore he could have been patched up right away!" Barty exclaims. "It was a golden opportunity, Reg!"

Regulus rolls his eyes. "It wouldn’t have been worth the paperwork."

"Or the disciplinary hearing," Pandora adds.

Barty sits up, "You should meet up with him. Somewhere not at work, and then knock his lights out."

"Barty, stop it," Pandora chides. "There will be no lights being knocked out."

"Speak for yourself," Barty grumbles, slumping back down. "Next time I see the guy, noses will be broken."

"What, yours? When he punches you back?" Evan grins, and he barely ducks in time to miss Barty’s hand swiping at him.

Regulus sighs tiredly, bringing his legs up to his chest and trying to bury himself deeper into Pandora’s legs.

"Ignoring Barty’s ideas," Pandora asks from above him. "What are you going to do, Reg?"

"About what?"

"About James wanting you to talk to Sirius?" She explains patiently.

"I don’t know," Regulus whines.

"I vote don’t speak to him," Evan pipes up. "The guy doesn’t deserve your time, mate. If James can’t see that, then James can get fucked too."

"Evan!" Pandora snaps. "Not helpful!"

"He’s right though," Regulus says, looking up at her. "Isn’t he?"

"It’s up to you, mes étoiles," she replies. "But I do think that James is right about one thing: refusing to do anything only hurts you and James. I don’t believe you should forgive Sirius, but I don’t think it would hurt to hear what he has to say. If anything, hearing his reasons will probably only give you more validation to hate him. You can also give him a piece of your mind if you agree to meet, tell him all the things you wish you could’ve if he hadn’t taken away your chance by leaving without a warning or word."

"Are you suggesting I give him a chance only to use it to shout abuse at him and then tell James I told you so?" Regulus asks. "Because that won’t work. James won’t stay with me if it doesn’t work with Sirius."

"You don’t know that," she assures.

Regulus shakes his head. "I do. James has said it himself before. The two of them are closer than brothers."

"James is smitten for you, Reg," she smiles. "And you can’t tell me you aren’t for him. We’ve never seen you like this with anyone else."

"Like what?"

Pandora smiles. "Happy."

"I’m happy with you guys," Regulus argues.

"A different kind of happy, mes étoiles," she explains, and with so little words, it seems to explain a lot.

James does make Regulus happy. He makes Regulus feel brave, fearless, like he can conquer the world and soak himself in James’ warmth afterwards.

"It’s not fair that it’s you who loses out just because of Sirius," Evan says.

Barty nods. "He’s right, Pandora too."

Regulus chews on his lips and curls in on himself tighter.

"I’ll think about it."

— tbc.