carpe diem

17

Sirius wasn't even two years old when Regulus was born. He can't say he remembers it at all, like lots of people probably wish he could. He doesn't remember his mother being pregnant. He doesn't remember them bringing him home from the hospital after he was born. He doesn't remember the first time he saw his baby brother. He doesn't remember if Regulus was a quiet baby or a loud one. He doesn't remember if Regulus slept through the night as an infant or kept them all up with endless wailing. Sirius doesn't even have any pictures of when they were babies. He couldn't even tell anyone what Regulus looked like as a baby.

The oldest memory Sirius has of Regulus, somehow, despite their upbringing, is a good one. He was six, Regulus had just turned five, and they were upstairs the day after Regulus' birthday. Their parents had gone to bed, and as far as they were aware, their two sons were asleep in their own respective bedrooms. In reality, they'd stayed awake and Regulus had snuck into Sirius' bedroom. Sirius had asked him to do so, only after he was sure their parents were asleep, and to creep down the corridor as quietly as possible for a birthday surprise.

Regulus had slunk in silently, face already split with the cheeky, beaming grin. After he closed the door, and Sirius had motioned him over to the bed, the little boy came sprinting, practically leaping onto the bed and almost knocking them both flying.

"Are you ready?" Sirius asked.

In the low light of his bedroom, the soft glow from the lamp on the side table, he could see Regulus nod. A small giggle filled the room as he looked down at his little brother, so small, tiny even, sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of him, looking up at Sirius like he was a wonder.

Sirius told Regulus to close his eyes. When he did, he pulled out the cupcake that Kreacher had got him to give to Regulus. Birthday cakes were not a thing in Grimmauld Place, but Sirius heard about a boy at school getting one and he wanted to do the same for Regulus.

Impatient as always, Regulus didn't keep his eyes closed for long. When he opened them and saw the cupcake between them, Regulus gasped, but Sirius spoke before he could do anything else.

"Wait," he said, and pulled out the lighter that Kreacher lent him from the draw. He flipped it open and sparked the fuse, holding it against the single wick on top of the candle.

After, he held it out in front of Regulus. The orange glow between them lit up both their faces, creating shadows on their cheekbones.

"Happy birthday, rabbit," Sirius whispered, and his heart clenched when Regulus tore his eyes away from the cupcake to look at Sirius. The tears in his eyes danced as the tiny flame on the cupcake flickered and glowed.

"For me?"

"Of course," Sirius replied. "Now blow it out and make a wish."

Regulus did as told. Afterwards, he looked up at Sirius and grinned, mischievous and cheeky again.

"What did you wish for?" Sirius asked.

"You said I'm not supposed to tell people other wise the wishes don't come true," Regulus argued, shaking his head.

"That's other people, silly," Sirius rolled his eyes, poking him lightly in the shoulder and making him giggle. "You can tell me. I'm not people, I'm your big brother."

"Okay," Regulus grinned, and then he whispered, "I wished for us to be together forever."

"Thats a waste of a wish, rabbit," Sirius told him.

Regulus frowned. "Why?"

"Because we're always going to be together," Sirius said. "It's you and me, remember? The two of us against the world. Nothing is ever going to split us up."

Regulus stared at him, with eyes so wide they seemed at risk of falling out of his head. "Promise?"

Sirius smiled, leaning forward so their foreheads were together.

"I promise."

Sirius can't pinpoint the exact reason the lie started. He doesn't know if he can even call it a lie, in his defence, he never told anyone he didn't have a brother. No one asked, so he can't be called a liar for telling them Regulus didn't exist if he was never asked directly about it. He didn't lie, he just didn't tell the whole truth.

He had opportunities. Hundreds. Thousands, even. When he first met James, Remus and Peter and they introduced themselves. When Peter mentioned his younger siblings, and when Remus and James said they didn't have any, when they talked about where they were from, how many aunties and uncles and cousins they had. All those times, Sirius could have spoken up and said he had a brother. Yet, he didn't. He stayed quiet and the conversation moved on every time.

He could have mentioned Regulus the first time he met Effie and Monty. Or Remus' mum or Peters. He could have brought it up a hundred times, prompted or random. He could have mentioned Regulus, acknowledged he existed.

But Sirius didn't. He couldn't. He doesn't think anyone will understand, especially now because it's been so long and his excuse seems minimal compared to the consequence.

When Sirius first met the Marauders at 11 years old, he saw the world a lot differently to his friends. The concept of family, parenting, punishment, it was all so different to Sirius. He couldn't be whatever he wanted to be, couldn't act like other children at home. His parents had moulded him before he even had a chance to figure out it himself.

When he started school, and he met three people that changed his life. Within weeks, he was able to be who he wanted to be. He could act, speak, think like Sirius. It was refreshing, addicting. Sirius became infatuated with the time he was able to truly be himself, and to truly learn about himself. The marauders allowed that, they embraced him and loved him and encouraged this new found boldness.

Sirius had to box it away at home. He had to split himself in two: Padfoot at school, and Sirius at home. It was exhausting, numbing, and Sirius knows it made him resent being at home.

All he could ever think was, why be at home after school where his mother would shout and hit him for not standing straight enough and his father could strike him with his cane, when he could go to James' for dinner, or hang at Peters, or go to Remus' mothers flower shop?

Sirius hated Grimmauld Place. He hated his parents. He hated their opinions and their beliefs. He didn't hate Regulus, at least not for a while.

Sirius didn’t mean to drift apart from Regulus. Really, he didn’t. He loved Regulus. He loved him so, so much when they were kids. Regulus was the light inside Grimmauld Place, the single space of fresh, breath oxygen that kept Sirius from suffocating. Sirius never intended to leave behind that little kid that woke him up in the night when he had nightmares, or the kid who chased butterflies in the garden, or the kid who cried when Andy cut her hair off when he was seven and he couldn't plait it anymore.

That wasn't the Regulus Sirius left behind though. That cute, gentle, sensitive boy was long gone by the time Sirius ran away from home.

Sirius doesn't remember the transition much. He knows it didn't happen over night, and deep down, he knows if he'd been around more he would have noticed the change himself.

He wasn't though. He was too busy getting caught up in the freedom of living outside the walls of Grimmauld Place. He was to busy being his true self, unashamed and bold.

Between the ages of 11 and 16, Sirius spent less and less time at home. He remembers the fallout when his parents announced Regulus was being sent to a different school so he wouldn't be swayed like Sirius was. Sirius remembers comforting a sobbing, hysterical 10 year old Regulus, telling his little brother than the school he's being sent to is good too, that he'll make loads of his own friends, and maybe perhaps it would be a good thing - Regulus would be able to branch out, to self-express without any relation to Grimmauld like Sirius did.

He wanted Regulus to find his own James, Remus and Peter.

Truthfully, Sirius doesn't know if he ever did.

Sirius spent less and less time at home as he went through school, and when he was home, he was too busy arguing with his parents or being locked in his room to be able to spend any length of time with Regulus.

Regulus avoided him too. Whenever Sirius was home, Regulus hid away, pretending Sirius didn't exist. Maybe it was payback, his own way of punishing Sirius for making his way in the world.

Maybe Regulus hated him long before Sirius hated him back.

By the time Sirius ran away, he hated everything inside Grimmauld Place. He hated his parents, who used him as a punch bag since he was a child, who belittled him and made him feel like he had less worth than a broom with no bristles. He hated Kreacher, who never did anything to protect them against the never-ending wrath of their parents for all those years. He hated Regulus, who changed in every worst way imaginable, who looked at Sirius like their parents did, like he was a disappointment, like he didn't belong and just his mere existence caused Regulus exasperation.

Regulus acted like their parents. He started telling Sirius it was his fault that their parents hit them, that they got angry because Sirius was unable to behave. He began to agree with their views, their opinions that belittled everyone and anyone who wasn't a member of the Noble House of Black.

Regulus became a person Sirius wanted to leave behind.

Which is why, Sirius didn't tell Regulus he was running away. By then, he didn't trust his little brother to not rat him out to their parents, who would have no doubt dragged him back kicking and screaming and locked him away for the rest of his miserable life.

When Sirius moved in with the Potters, he'd known them for five years. Five years of keeping his home life a secret and everyone in it. When they found him on their doorstep, cheek still bruised from his fathers cane and stomach rumbling from his mothers punishment of withdrawing his food, he fell apart. He told them everything about his parents, but he couldn't bring himself to mention Regulus. Maybe it was shame he'd not done it for so long, or fear that they'd be angry and make him go back at get him, or shame they'd associate his brother with his parents, Sirius isn't sure. He was torn for a long time, flitting between hating Regulus and being ashamed of his brother or fear his new found family will hate him for leaving his brother behind.

It was Andy that told him months later that his parents and Regulus had left London.

Sirius used it as a way to put it all behind him. Regulus, as much as Sirius hated to admit it, was more loved by their parents. He had to be, right? If he vouched for everything they believed in and hated Sirius for not doing so, then Regulus would be fine. He wouldn't be a good person, and he'd become everything Sirius didn't want for him, but in terms of physicality, Regulus would be fine.

Right?

As time passed, Sirius healed from his time at home. The physical wounds were gone in weeks. The mental and emotional ones stayed open and seeping for a few years. It took time and work, and the Potters never made Sirius ever feel like a burden for it. They made Sirius realise family is more than blood and DNA.

Years few by. Sirius grew, he changed in every way, shaking the mould and poison lingering to him from his time in Grimmauld. Truthfully, Sirius didn’t feel like he could truly breathe until the Marauders moved to Yorkshire when they were 20. After two years of swapping between staying with Remus’ family in their Wales house and London with Effie and Monty while James was travelling with Peter, the four of them reunited and decided to all attend university in Yorkshire. After a year, Remus ended up moving back home to London when his epilepsy went through a rough patch and being with his parents was the best option, moving his English course to online and studying at home. It took everything Sirius had to not follow him, but instead staying in Yorkshire with Peter and James to finish his art course. When they graduated, Peter wasted no time moving back to London to be with his siblings and mum, but James and Sirius stayed. James was thrown face first into first responding and Sirius got a part time job in a tattoo parlour to keep his mind busy.

The move back to London was as spontaneous as the move away from it. Sirius didn’t regret it one bit: he was closer to Remus, closer to the Potters, reunited with Peter again. The fear of bumping into his family was nonexistent. It had been years, and last he heard, they were still rotting in France like they had been for the last eight years.

So imagine Sirius’ surprise when after all these years, most of them spent not even thinking about the boy that had grown up and shattered his heart, to be the person James is infatuated with.

For months James has been sputtering on and on and on about this dreamy doctor, about the guy who swept him off his feet with mean scowls and sarcastic comments. The doctor that James described as beautiful, with huge eyes and dark hair and a 'fab arse'.

And as it turns out, this person was the same person who ripped Sirius’ heart in two nine years prior.

When Sirius saw him step up in the pub on New Years, all of Sirius’ excitement was shattered. He was excited to finally meet the person who occupied all of James’ thoughts. So when his little brother, the long lost Rasalas stepped up, and James called him Regulus, Sirius’ brain simply short-circuited.

Of course, none of Sirius’ reasons could soften the fallout.

James was confused, furious, hurt, by both Regulus’ running away and Sirius’ admission to never mentioning his little brother existed.

Sirius realises he messed up. Yes, it was wrong of him not to tell them all about Regulus, he knows it’s a betrayal of trust. Yet, no one seemed to be trying to see it from his point of view. In that moment at the pub, it was like everyone forgot where Sirius came from, what he went through. All they could see what his stupid little brother running away like Sirius was the bad guy. Sirius warned them, he told them the truth about how Regulus really is, and yet James didn’t listen. 14 years of friendship thrown away over a three month relationship.

Sirius was angry. Remus took the brunt of it, as he was the only person around while Sirius was avoiding James at the Lupin household. Sirius was a mixture of hurt, angry, confused, and truthfully, scared. Mostly, he was scared. Scared he was going to lose James, scared that Regulus being back in town also meant his parents were too. Seeing Regulus’ face for five seconds in the middle of a pub knocked Sirius’ world on it’s axis, he doesn’t want to know what seeing his parents would do to him.

Sirius spent the four days at Remus’ either ranting so much no one could get a word in edge-wise or laying in a curled up ball on the bed so deep into his own head he was barely aware of Remus laying down with him.

Remus let him moan and rant, listened to his shouts, and then when he broke down, he held him close and pressed kisses into his hair. Remus didn’t try to change his mind, to tell him he was in the wrong. He let Sirius project and melt, let him scream and shout and cry.

On day four, after phoning into the tattoo parlour to say he'd need a few more days off sick and emailing his disappointed clients to rearrange dates, it was Remus who told him he needed to speak to James.

"You can’t keep hiding here, Pads," he’d whispered into his hair in the morning. "The two of you need to talk, I know James wants to. He doesn’t want to lose you over this. The two of you are brothers, remember? Nothing bad will happen if you tell him how you feel, or why you did all of this."

"You think I’m in the wrong, don’t you?" Sirius had asked. It was the first time he asked that, mostly because he was terrified of the answer.

Above his head, he'd heard a sigh, so heavy he felt the deflation of the man's chest beneath his ear.

"I’m angry at you too about this," Moony said.

Sirius stiffened, stomach dropped to his toes. He'd lifted himself off Remus' chest, sitting back. He stared down at his boyfriend, feeling suddenly cold.

While he knew he shouldn't have been Remus was angry too, it shocked him more than James being angry.

"What?"

"I’m your boyfriend, Sirius. We’ve been together for years, and you never said anything. There isn’t a single thing about my life that you don’t know about, and yet, you never once mentioned that you have a younger brother," Remus said. "Do you understand how that makes me feel?"

"I…" Sirius swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I didn’t know how to bring it up. I got… I didn’t mention it soon enough, and then so much time passed that it felt wrong to bring it up."

"That’s not true," Moony replied, shaking his head. He was looking up at him with a expression that didn't hold anger, just a mixture of annoyance and caution. That was worse. "There’s something else. There’s another reason, one you’re not saying because you don’t think anyone is going to understand."

Sirius had closed his eyes. Trust Moony to be the one to call him out, to notice that what he is saying isn’t the whole truth. Knowing Moony is angry too, knowing he’s hurt the love of his life over this, makes Sirius suddenly feel compelled to spit it all out.

He might have lost James, but he can’t lose Moony too.

"I had a different life when I wasn’t at Grimmauld," he started. "When I was around you guys, I was allowed to be a different person, to be myself. I… I didn’t have to pretend to be someone I wasn’t, didn’t have to pretend to be sophisticated or take hits for slouching my shoulders when I wasn’t at home. I got… I enjoyed it. It was like I got to reinvent myself when I met you all. I was scared that mentioning anything at home, involving anything would cause the two of them to merge somehow and my freedom, this new person would be ruined. That… that ended up involving not mentioning Regulus. He was part of Grimmauld, none of you met him and ever would, because my parents sent him to a different school. I guess I was worried to begin with that introducing him to you guys would make it easier for you all to figure out what life at home was like, and I didn’t want any of you to see that."

Moony had looked at him then, expression undecipherable. Sirius felt his palms begin to sweat, all because he knew he’d messed up by admitting it out loud.

No one was going to understand. Perhaps it would have been unfair to expect them too, when they weren’t in Sirius’ shoes at the time. Creating a barrier between his life inside Grimmauld and outside was the only way to survive, because life inside Grimmauld was too harsh, too painful. It wasn’t normal. Normal parents don’t hit their kids, or lock them in cupboards, or starve and slap and kick their kids.

He didn’t intend for Regulus to get left out of his life beyond Grimmauld walls, and by the time he realised what he had done, it was too late: Regulus was already changed, already corrupted and ruined. He was moulded without Sirius realising it.

"You don’t get it," Sirius sighed, rubbing his eyes. "This is why I didn’t want to explain it. You can’t understand."

"Pads, I will never understand what it was like to grow up like you and Regulus did," Moony had sighed. "It’s impossible for me to put myself in your shoes, so I don’t know if I would have done what you’d done. Sure, nine years is a long time to never admit to having a brother, and yes, my first thought when you admitted to him still being at Grimmauld when you ran away was that he was left with your parents. After knowing what they did to you, I was worried they’d done the same to him. I know you believe they wouldn’t, but you said yourself, they hurt you both when you were kids, so there is a chance they were dicks to him after you left. But the only person who can answer that is Regulus, and I won’t lie, I can’t see him being very eager to talk about it."

"You’re taking his side?"

Moony sighed heavily against him. "No, Pads. And don’t do that. I’m not taking sides, all I’m saying is that yes, you lied to us, and yes, in a sense, you left your baby brother in the same house with the parents that beat you black and blue for shits and giggles. You understand it sounds bad, yeah?"

"Yeah, but he’s—"

"I know," Moony nodded. "I know you said he became a nasty mini clone of them. I just… me and James know him as he is now. He’s my doctor, Pads. You need to understand our struggle of connecting the baby brother you left behind and the person we know now."

"He’s not a good person."

"I hate to break it to you, Pads, but he’s not a bad one either," Moony soothed gently. "Effie loves him, James loves him, he’s been a pretty good doctor to me for years. Yeah, he’s pretty rough around the edges, but there isn’t anyone else I’d rather have look after me when I’m in hospital."

Sirius didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. As childish as he knows he is, he can’t find a way to connect the person he knew long ago to the person everyone is describing now.

James forgives him easily. Maybe too easily, but Sirius isn’t complaining. Four days was too long without James, and Sirius will be damned if he lets it happen again.

A few days after Sirius and James made up, Effie phoned to check in. Sirius was on the sofa, catching up on drawings and sketches for clients, when his mobile rang. It was the first time they'd spoken since the fallout, since the crumbling of Sirius' past rearing its ugly, poisonous head. Truthfully, Sirius was just as scared to talk to Effie as he was everyone else. This was the woman who took him in without batting an eyelid, gave him a home and warmth and love. She became the mother he never had the day he met her when he was 11. Honestly, it was Effie who proved to him that what he had at home wasn't family.

He was worried Effie was going to be angry that he lied to her, betrayed and fooled. He was worried she was going to hate him for being the monster that left his brother behind, that made her feel guilty for playing a part in allowing Regulus to stay with their parents. He was worried she was going to be angry he said all those things to James about the doctor Effie has always praised about, about the doctor who makes Effie feel relaxed and at ease on shift.

It was nothing like Sirius imagined. At first, at least. Effie phoned when it was just Sirius in the flat, James had already been out for hours at Peter's mum's cafe. Sirius knew he went out simply for the sake of it; James had never been good at staying in for too long without feeling the need to start climbing the walls.

It was small talk to begin with. Nice, easy, slightly pointless but good none the less. It made Sirius feel safer, talking to her about pointless things. Then she asked how he was, and he spilled his guts out to her about it all. About James introducing them on New Years, about Regulus being Rasalas, about fighting with James and hiding at Moony's. She listened, patient and understanding. Or at least, she was understanding now that him and James were talking again.

"I always had a hunch," she said after a while.

Sirius stiffened on the sofa, frowning despite her not being able to see his face through the phone.

"What?"

"I always had a hunch that Regulus was related to you in some way," she explained. "You both look so similar, and when he first came to work with me in London, he acted so much like you did when you moved in with us. All the signs were their, even without your surnames being the same."

Sirius' breath hitched as she spoke.

Did she know this whole time?

"Why didn't you say anything?" He croaked out.

Through the phone, she let out a heavy, disbelieving sigh. For a moment, she sounded exasperated, but her tone when she spoke is nothing but soft and patient.

"Because you never mentioned having a brother, and when Regulus said he didn't have any family, I assumed it was his unspoken wish to keep it that way," she said. "He'd gotten away from his parents, much like you did. He was terrified and guarded in a way that broke my heart, but he was free from them. It wasn't my place to bring you two together. Regulus seemed content with being of the opinion he had no family, and you were so deep in your lie about not having a brother."

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispered, eyes burning with the tears now threatening to spill. He'd done so much crying since New Years.

"You don't have to apologise to me, darling," she replied. "Your lie didn't hurt me in the slightest."

I must have, Sirius wanted to argue. Everyone seemed hurt after the truth came out. Everyone looked at him like he'd betrayed them, like he'd stabbed them in the back and twisted the knife for nine years.

"You could have said something," he argued weakly.

"What would you have done?"

Truthfully, Sirius doesn't know what he would have done if Effie had told him years ago that his baby brother was working with her. Would he have accepted it? Would he have runaway from London again? Would he have confronted Regulus?

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I—"

"You're my son, Sirius," she interrupted softly, and the four words had Sirius letting out a soft sob. "You know I'd support you in every way possible, because you're mine in every way but blood. But this is your lie, you made your bed, and I'm afraid it wasn't my place to stop you from lying in it. All I could do, was make sure the two of you were okay separately."

Sirius wanted to laugh at that: Effie Potter, always a mother to anyone in need. Sirius supposed he shouldn't be surprised. He's living proof she has a weak spot for strays.

His heart ached then, the realisation that Effie began to do for Regulus what Sirius did for years when they were kids. She looked after him, despite being older and an adult, she did for him what Sirius spent so much time doing, what he thought his purpose was as the older brother.

Deep down, no matter how much Sirius hated Regulus for who he became in Grimmauld, he was grateful that Effie was the one who was there to keep his head above water when he came back to London.

"Thank you," he whispered, voice barely audible. "For looking after him. I… thank you."

"Of course," she replied easily. Then, she sighed, tired and long as if she was hurting herself. "He's a good person, Sirius. I know you don't believe that, I know he hurt you and so did your parents. I know something has kept you back all these years from admitting it, but whoever that was that you ran away from when you were 16 isn't the same boy anymore."

"You believe that?"

"I know that, my love. I work with him, I've seen it hundreds of times every day. He's been my best colleague since before he got his degree," she paused, voice becoming impossible gentle, as if she was trying to soothe a hysterical child, "and James would tell you the same. If you trust us, you'd believe it too."

Sirius doesn't need to believe them. He sees it for his own eyes a week later in the hospital with Remus.

Sirius won't lie, when Regulus appeared out of no where in scrubs and was crouching down in front of Remus, Sirius felt completely blindsided. He’d completely forgotten that Remus had mentioned Regulus being his doctor on the neurology ward. He was panicking, practically hysterical when he was shouting at the receptionist. Remus was ill, and no one was listening so Sirius naturally was freaking out at everyone.

And then Regulus was there, calling his name and making Sirius' world tilt on axis. Sirius knew he looked a mess, that his face was a mix of tears and snot and flushed cheeks. He’d been running his hands through his hair for ages, so no doubt he looked like he’d touched a live wire with the way it was probably standing up in all directions.

Sirius didn’t even have a chance to ask Regulus anything before his younger brother was barrelling off questions. Sirius felt like his brain was disconnected, the answers tumbling out of his mouth in a stuttering, sputtering mess. Regulus looked so serious, his tone calm but hinted with urgency and authority that made Sirius feel small and stupid.

Then Regulus was getting someone to get them a bed, demanding orders with a crisp expertise that made Sirius’ heart fall to the pit of his stomach because despite finally being listened too, it made the realisation that something is seriously wrong with Remus come to front of his mind.

When Remus seized again, it was Regulus who helped. He jumped straight into action, getting him on the floor and looking after him. Sirius was shaking so bad he could barely hold the blanket up in front of them as a makeshift shield.

Before Sirius could blink, the space around him is a flurry of activity. It’s the attention he wanted Remus to get, but it still made him shake and swallow down sobs. Then they were moving, Remus prone on the bed and making everything feel so scary and real.

When Regulus stopped him from going into the room with Remus, Sirius could have punched him. When Regulus shuts down his argument with reason, Sirius just crumbled.

Yet, Sirius did as he was told. He spoke to the nurse who asked all the questions about Remus’ medical history, he stayed out of the way when they said he couldn’t go into resus. He phoned Effie, who patiently answered all his questions and eased his worries.

It wasn’t until Remus was settled in a bed up on the neurology ward hours later that Sirius finally began to process what had happened. In the silence of the private hospital room, with Remus asleep and the only sound to be heard was his breathing and the beeping of machines, Sirius had no option but to spiral.

Normally, whenever Remus gets this sick, whenever he ends up in hospital with Sirius by his side, Remus is the only thing Sirius can see when he closes his eyes.

Not this time.

This time, every time Sirius closes his eyes, all he could see was Regulus. Flashing as fast as strobe lights in his head, repeating and repeating and repeating. From the small child Sirius once knew, the teenager he ran away from, then morphing into the grown man in scrubs saving the love of his life.

Sirius is not ashamed to admit he is hiding in Remus’ hospital room. Sure, he should probably leave to go to the bathroom or get a coffee or take a walk to keep the circulation going to his legs, but he’s too nervous. He’s too nervous because Regulus is out there. They’re on his ward, in his work place. Sirius doesn’t want to invade the space that Regulus is more entitled than he is. Plus, if anything was to happen between them, Sirius knows it will be him that gets dragged out by security and not Regulus.

He can’t risk not being there for Moony.

Realistically, it’s the perfect excuse.

Nurses come and go like the entrance to Moony’s room is a revolving door. Endless tests, endless check ups, numbers and bloods and medications. Sirius sits silently, patiently, waiting for him to wake up. He watches Remus for a while, just relishing in the relief that he's stable, that he's being looked after and resting peacefully. He looked so ill earlier, so pale and glazed and clammy. Every time Sirius spoke to him it was like the lights were on but no one was home, like he was staring through everything he saw. It was eerie, and absolutely terrifying. Even when they got to hospital, Sirius' worry didn't ease with having to sit in the waiting room with Moony so unresponsive.

Now, despite the fear and trepidation of something else in Remus' epilepsy is going to harm him and his health, Moony looks better. The older boy lays in the bed, attached to IV drips in his arms and sticky monitors on his chest, a nasal cannula settled on his face. But his expression is relaxed, soft, his breathing is even and his lips aren't blue anymore. His exhausted limbs are settled and still, covered in hospital blankets and cradled on the bed.

He's safe, and it's a damn hell better than he was a few hours ago.

While he waits, sitting in the silent room listening to the beeping machines and Remus' slow breathing, Sirius phones Mrs Lupin to give her another update. Naturally, as his mother, she's worried but at Sirius' assurance about Remus' improving condition, she calms and promises to come later after she's finished with the wedding sets that are due to be ready for transport tonight. Once he's finished speaking to her, he texts James and Peter that Remus has been admitted and is staying overnight.

Suddenly, the sheets next to his rustle and Sirius' head snaps up from his phone to see Moony's head turning slightly, his fingers twitching and eyes fluttering. Sirius puts his phone away and moves closer, taking the hand closest to him and stroking it as he waits. 

"Hey," Sirius murmurs, giving the hand a reassuring squeeze and slowly rubbing the rest of his arm. "Hi, love. You're alright. You’re safe."

Bleary, glazed eyes blink up at the ceiling. For a moment, they don’t seem to see anything. Moony's eyes travel around the room, curious and slowly focusing.

Finally, they land on Sirius, and all the tension in Sirius’ body drains out of him.

"Hi," he smiles.

"S'rus?"

"I'm here," he replies, inching closer and barely resisting the urge to leap up and take Moony in his arms.

"Wh’t h’pp’n’d?" Moony asks, voice barely a slurred croak, but Sirius knows what he’s saying.

It’s not unusual for Moony not to remember having a seizure. With how many he’s had today, Sirius won’t be surprised if he can’t recall as far as when he woke up this morning.

"You had a seizure. A few actually. One at your mums shop and another few here," Sirius explains softly as he helps Moony sips water out of the straw and cup. "It’s all okay now."

When the cup is drained, Moony asks, "Status?"

"Yeah," Sirius nods. "Scared the shit out me."

"Sorry," Moony breaths, blinking slowly but guilt clear in his expression. "I didn’t—"

"Not your fault," Sirius interrupts softly but firmly. He strokes Moony’s hair, soothing him and not satisfied until he watches his boyfriend melt back into the pillows. "It’s never your fault, sweetheart. Don’t be sorry, okay? I’m just happy you’re okay."

For a few moments, Moony just blinks slowly. He seems more lucid by the moment, and Sirius relaxes further. This is normal, and just seeing his eyes open, is a crushing relief.

"When?" Moony asks.

"Started this morning at your mums. We brought you here but A and E was so busy we ended up in the waiting room for so long and you had another one down there. They took you into resus and you’ve been up here for a few hours."

Moony hums, then blinks his eyes open. "Effie in?"

"No," Sirius shakes his head. Then, with a heavy weight of anxiety in his stomach, he adds, "Regulus is though."

"Regulus?"

"Yeah. He was… he was the one that helped me downstairs. He recognised you in the waiting room and got you into resus."

"Oh," Moony mumbles. Then, it seems to sink in, and he grins widely, "What a champ!"

Sirius huffs a laugh at the small, simple statement.

"Told you he was a good doctor," Moony says, smug.

Sirius can’t help but roll his eyes fondly. "You did."

"I’m always right."

"Sure, love."

"I am."

"Always," Sirius agrees easily.

He can’t help but find this version of Remus, deliriously tired, pumping to the eyeballs on medication, and loopy as hell, absolutely adorable.

"What’s the time?"

"I don’t have to go yet."

"Good," Moony smiles dopily, looking more and more sleepy by the second. "Love you."

Inside his chest, his heart bursts.

"I love you too."

The next day, Sirius is back at the hospital the moment visitation times commence. He beelines straight to Moony’s room, trying to not be too disheartened to see him still asleep. Sirius is happy he’s getting rest, and the bags under his eyes vouch enough for needing it, but the selfish part of him wants Moony awake, to hear his voice and his smile. He wants the confusion from the seizures to be gone from Moony’s eyes, he wants to see them clear and focused. He wants Moony awake so he can make sure he’s okay.

Still, Sirius sits silently at the bedside, eyeing the beeping monitor still beside the bed. He’s no doctor, but they’ve done this dance enough times to know what the numbers should look like, and he relaxes back seeing they’re nothing to be concerned with.

Moony wakes a little after 10, and Sirius has just finished texting James and Peter, updating them on Moony’s condition this morning and feeling comforted by their promise to visit later after Peter’s morning shift the cafe.

It’s a little after lunch when the nurses take Moony for another scan. They wheel him out in a wheelchair, and Sirius is only alone for five minutes before the door opens again.

"Afternoon, Pads," he greets. "Where’s Moony?"

"They’ve taken him for another scan," Sirius explains. "They said it was a precaution, I’m guessing so they can make sure everything is good to send him home."

"Ah, good," Peter nods, sitting on one of the chairs on the other side of the empty bed. "How are you doing?"

Sirius shrugs. "Tired. Worried. Nothing compared to what Moony went through, so I’m not complaining."

"I bet. You been here all morning?"

Sirius nods.

A moment of silence passes between them. Even without either of them speaking, Sirius can’t help but feel that there is something hanging in the room, unsaid and anticipating.

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out what it is.

"Me and James saw your brother outside," Peter says suddenly.

Immediately, Sirius stiffens. That, surprisingly, was not what he was expecting.

"James is talking to him now," he adds.

"Peter—"

"You spoken to him?" Peter asks, bulldozing over Sirius’ attempt at stopping him. "You know, if I'd not seen one of my brothers or sisters for nine years after abandoning them I'd be pretty ambitious to be chasing them round the hospital just to speak to them again."

Sirius bits the inside of his cheek in frustration. "I spoke to him downstairs."

"Really?"

Peter doesn’t look at all convinced.

Sirius nods. "He looked after Moony in the waiting room."

Peters eyes widen. "Seriously?"

Sirius nods. "I didn't realise he was going to be on shift yesterday, or that he would be down in A and E."

"Was he a prick?"

"Not really," Sirius shrugs. "He was just doing his job."

Peter makes a noise.

"What?"

"Must have been quite the shock, to see the brother that you've been slandering constantly about being scum of the earth to come in and save your boyfriend," Peter says, tone nonchalant and innocent but Sirius can hear the way it's condescending. "It would almost seem as if he has changed from when he was 15. How bizarre!"

Sirius can’t help but wince. He didn’t expect this from Peter. He’s the only one who hasn’t said anything to Sirius about the brother situation, the only one who hasn’t got involved. Sirius assumed it was mostly to do with the fact that out of all four of them, Peter is the only one with no connection to Regulus. The first time he met his younger brother was on New Years, and Peter seems to have spent all the time since supporting James like Moony has supported Sirius.

Honestly, Sirius has been waiting for something, but he wasn’t expecting to hear the anger, the bite, or the annoyance in Peter’s tone. Sirius kept his younger brother a secret from Peter too, so Sirius has been waiting for Peter to call him out for lying about it.

Peter sounding like he’s defending Regulus? Sirius hadn’t expected that.

"Wormtail, please, don't," Sirius whispers shakily, but its futile. There’s a fire inside Peter’s eyes as he glares at Sirius from across the room. it’s the same look he gets when one of the kids are upset from someone, or when someone tries to start a fight with one of the Marauders on a night out.

"Don't what?" Peter snaps suddenly, voice loud and abrupt, making Sirius flinch. "Don't have an opinion on the fact that you abandoned your younger brother with your abusive parents, proceeded to tell no one that he existed including your best friends, the people that took you in to life, and your boyfriend, and then when he finally pops back into your life again as someone who everyone who knows him now has assured you he is nothing like the demonic clone of your parents you believe him to be, you refuse to listen and keep throwing hissy fits like a fucking toddler?"

When Sirius doesn’t say anything, Peter doesn’t seem to hesitate to plough on.

"I know what it's like to have siblings, Padfoot. You can't fool me with the bullshit you're telling everyone else. There is nothing in the world any of my siblings could have done that would have resulted in me abandoning them with a set of sick, sadistic parents," Peter hisses, voice spitting and eyes glaring. "It doesn't matter that he was a cunt, or that he acted like your parents, he was your brother. Flesh and blood. He was meant to have your unconditional love, which as I'm assuming you don't understand what that is, means that he didn't have to fucking earn it."

"It was unconditional love," Sirius argues. "It was always unconditional with him, until he turned into someone who didn’t know what love is."

Peter scoffs. "Come off it, Sirius. Did you ever sit back and think to ask Regulus if he was okay? Before you left, when you realised he was changing, did you not think to talk to him about it?"

"Of course I did!" Sirius cries. "Whenever I tried to talk to him, he told me to fuck off. He insulted me, told me I was a burden to the family, that all I did was cause everyone pain when I was home. He told me it was my fault that our parents beat us, that I needed to abide by their rules and opinions and stay quiet!"

"What if he did that to protect himself?" Peter asks, and he holds a hand up when Sirius opens his mouth to speak. "Hear me out, Pads. Your parents were vile. They beat you up, starved you, threatened hurting each of you to the other to get you to behave. Have you ever thought that maybe Regulus said all of that, acted like that, told you to act like that, to protect himself? To protect the both of you?"

Sirius feels frozen in horror as Peter’s words sink in.

Surely not, he thinks. Please, he prays. Please don’t let that be true. Please don’t be true that I was so blind to not see what was happening, what he was doing.

"He didn’t need to do that," he whispers. "I protected him."

"You weren’t there all the time, Sirius," Peter argues, tone now gentle and cautious. "You had us, you admitted it yourself. What about all the time Regulus was there alone?"

Sirius thinks back to the last years they lived together. There is no way Regulus was that good at pretending to agree with them. There is no way he didn’t believe what they said, believed Sirius was the cause of the problems. No one is that good at pretending.

"Why didn’t he tell me then?" Sirius asks. "If it was all an act, why didn’t he tell me?"

"Maybe he tried," Peter shrugs. "I don’t really know, mate. The way you two grew up wasn’t normal, your reactions to things are stemmed from that. You two spent so long growing up in survival mode, perhaps it was the only way he thought he could keep himself safe."

Sirius drops his head into his hands, curling up like a dying animal in the chair. His mind is going a mile a minute, all of his thoughts scattered. Memories, flashes, moments are consuming his vision and his conscious.

"He probably wasn’t expecting you to runaway from him as a consequence of it."

"I didn’t run away from him," Sirius counters, shaking his head but not looking up.

Peter sighs. "You did though, Sirius. You left in the middle of the night and disappeared. You don’t need to justify why you did it, considering what it was like in that house, but you can’t deny you ultimately ran away from Regulus too."

Sirius’ chest feels tight as the heart inside it shatters. He feels like he’s made of stone, so heavy and so exhausting. His hands shake as they cradle his head. His eyes burn with hot, unshed tears, his throat suddenly thick. He feels like he’s suffocating, like every part of him is falling apart, crumbling.

"He used to be such a good kid," Sirius whispers wetly. He can’t tell if he’s about to burst into sobbing, ugly tears, or throw the chair he’s sitting in against the wall.

"Exactly," Peter agrees, and when Sirius looks up at him, his friend flashes him a sympathetic smile. "He was a good kid. He wasn't born the way you saw him when you left. He changed growing up because of that house, and you could have helped him undo the damage your parents did. Although, by the sounds of it, he didn't need you. He did it himself. He got out, got a bloody medical degree, and swooped James Potter off his feet." 

Sirius suddenly can’t breathe.

Good kid.

Helped him.

Undo the damage.

You could have helped.

You could—

He didn’t need you.

He did it himself.

He got out.

He. Got. Out.

Sirius lets out a shaky, wet breath. He feels overwhelmed. Heavy and light at the same time. The world has crumbled, collapsed and disappeared from around him, yet he also feels like the walls closing in on him have been blown back.

Peters words were blunt, but Sirius never expects anything less from the Scots.

Yet, he said everything Sirius needed to hear. He just summarised his little brother in a few sentences, and he couldn’t have done it any better.

"He was always going to turn out more successful than me," Sirius says, but it doesn’t come out bitter like he always assumed it would. It comes out fond, teasing, smug. "Trust him to finally breakaway from the claws of Walburga just to come to London and become a successful bloody doctor."

"Have you thanked him?"

Sirius shakes his head, not looking up from his lap. "No. I don't want to upset him at work. Honest. We both know it's not going to be a very happy altercation between the two of us, and he's got people to look after. He doesn't need to deal with this too."

"How very mature of you," Peter deadpans. He shrugs when Sirius flashes him a deadpan glare, "What? I'm allowed to be surprised after all the stuff that's happened."

Sirius rolls his eyes, but then the door opens and the conversation, thankfully, is dropped.

The nurse wheels Moony in, and Sirius can’t help but grin at the sight of him. He looks much better than he did even just a few hours earlier, and miles better than the sorry state he was in a day ago.

"Hey," Sirius murmurs softly, moving himself and the chair out of the way so the nurse can bring the wheelchair up to the head of the bed.

"Alright, Moony?" Peter asks.

"Not too shabby," Remus replies, and the two of them match his grin. Remus’ brightening mood seems to eliminate any of the lingering tension from the conversation between Peter and Sirius.

"Everything alright?" Sirius asks the nurse as Remus climbs back onto the bed.

She nods and smiles, "His doctor will need to review it, but we’re not expecting anything out of the ordinary. It’s just a tickbox to make sure he’s well enough to go home."

"Good," Sirius breaths in relief. He knew this already, but it’s reassuring to hear it again.

Moony is going to be okay.

Despite everything that’s going on, at least that is going well.

"Where’s James?" Moony asks when he’s fully settled back in the bed and the nurse has left.

"He’ll be in in a minute," Peter replies, and true to his word, after a few minutes of the two of them catching up, the door opens.

James slithers in like he was planning on going unnoticed. His expression is pinched, lips turned down and eyes glistening as if they held tears a few moments ago.

"You alright, mate?" Peter asks.

James nods, despite the fact he does not look alright at all. Sirius wants to ask what’s happened, what Regulus has done now, but he doesn’t dare. He’s still reeling from the new hole Peter abruptly ripped into him a few moments ago and he doesn’t fancy making it worse.

When James’ eyes immediately fall to Moony, he smiles.

"How’re you doing, Moons?" He asks.

Moony shrugs, flashing them all a small, tired smile. "Been better, been worse. Can’t wait to go home, that’s for sure."

"I bet," James nods. "Your parents been in?"

"They came in for a bit last night, but I don’t really remember much of it, to be honest," Moony explains. "I’m sure they’ll be back today."

"When are they discharging you?" Peter asks.

"Tomorrow is the plan," Moony sighs, when he looks at Sirius tiredly, silently saying tomorrow is not soon enough, Sirius just flashes him an encouraging smile and holds his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Nice, mate," Peter grins brightly. "If they let you out before lunch, I think it’ll be a smart idea for us to treat you to a bite of lunch, yeah? Get some decent food in you instead of the crap the hospitals give you."

"I’d kill for a Mama Pettigrew toastie," Moony smirks.

Peter winks. "Atta boy."

After Remus’ hospital admission, it follows with a week of sulking. Peter’s words at the hospital stick with him, a repeating mantra constantly on his mind, like a faulty record that won’t stop playing and playing and playing.

Sirius can’t decide how he feels. He’s gotten whiplash from his own thoughts, his own spirals. One minute, he feels so riddled with guilt for leaving Regulus, fear for the consequences of their parents hands, that he feels crippled with nausea.

Then, it’s like his mind switches back. His mind is overcome with the conclusion that Regulus was happy there, that he fit in with the family more than Sirius ever could. All he can think about is the fear of his parents, that he had to get out of the house before they killed him, that Regulus wouldn’t have come with him.

Then it switches back. Back to the guilt that he never asked, that he never offered, he never tried.

Guilt.

Fear.

Anger.

Regret.

Guilt.

Fear.

Anger.

Regret.

Guilt fear anger regret.

Guilt fear anger regret.

Guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt—

Anger anger anger—

Regret.

It’s exhausting.

He distracts himself with work as best he can, but even that doesn't seem to ease the torment in his head.

Despite his downward spiral and endless thinking, Sirius would be blind to miss the fact that James is moody, reserved, spending all of his time either in his room or with Peter at the cafe. Sirius is sure he’s mad at him, but James is never around long enough for Sirius to ever ask.

In hind sight, he doesn’t need to ask. He knows exactly what the problem is, and it’s the same problem that’s been brewing since New Years.

James hasn’t forgiven Sirius for never telling him about Regulus, and the longer than James goes without seeing Regulus, the more he’s beginning to resent Sirius for it.

Sirius supposes he shouldn’t blame James for it. He lied to his best friend for 14 years, it was always going to have some repercussions. Sirius just wishes it didn’t, because he’s starting to miss his best friend.

Sirius is able to distract himself at work, and he’s happy he’s been able to reign his emotions in enough to go back after taking the sick days after New Years. His clients weren’t impressed with the rearrangements, but the discounts seemed to sedate their complaints enough.

Sirius is just coming in from a shift when he see’s James come scurrying out of his room, dressed up and pocketing his wallet.

"Where are you going?" Sirius asks.

James looks up at him, suddenly looking like a deer caught in headlights.

His friend opens and closes his mouth a few times, fingers twitching against the cuffs of his coat. Then, he squares his shoulders, as if bracing himself.

"I’m going out with Regulus," James says.

Sirius feels his blood turn cold. "Oh. What?"

"You heard me, Sirius," James replies.

"James…"

"Don’t do this, Pads," James whispers, shaking his head. "Please, I’m begging you. Don’t put me in the middle of this again. I haven’t… I don’t know what you want me to do to make this better for you without hurting myself."

"I don’t want to hurt you," Sirius admits.

"Then let me go tonight," James replies. "Let me go, and don’t hate me for it."

Let me go.

Let me go.

Let me go.

Sirius closes his eyes tightly.

"Okay," he murmurs.

He opens his eyes and looks at James across the floor. His best friend looks a mix between nervous and defiant, as if he’s ready for the fight he’s prepared to have about going out while being terrified of it.

Sirius crosses the room, slinging his jacket over the back of the sofa and dropping down on the cushions.

"I’m not wishing you to have a good time though," he grumbles.

James smiles slightly, seemingly relieved. "I can live with that. I’ll see you later, okay?"

"Will you be back tonight?" Sirius asks as he swipes his keys from the pot and stands by the front door.

"I don’t know."

"Okay," Sirius says again.

And then he’s gone.

Sirius doesn’t know how much time passes while he’s sitting on the sofa. The door opening behind him startles him out of his staring at the coffee table. He looks over his shoulder to see Moony coming in, smiling when he notices Sirius looking at him.

"Hey, love," he says.

"Evening," Sirius replies, tone clipped. A quick glance at the clock shows that it’s almost eight in the evening now.

Moony freezes mid-step away from the door, frowning at Sirius, the lovely smile dropping from his face.

"Why do you look like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you phoned the police after committing a crime and now you’re waiting for the police to breakdown the door and arrest you."

Sirius huffs, shaking his head. He’s not in the mood for jokes or games. He turns back forward and continues glaring at the floor like it’s personally offended him.

Behind him, Moony sighs. There’s the sound of keys clanking in the pot and approaching footsteps before Moony drops down beside him. "What’s going on, Pads?"

Sirius pauses in gouging on his thumb nail to spit out, "James is out with Regulus."

"Ah," Moony nods knowingly, which only pisses Sirius off even more.

"He left hours ago."

Moony hums. "Have you been sitting here like this ever since?"

"No."

"That’s a yes, then," Moony muses, and when Sirius’ head snaps to glare at him, the other man shrugs. "You do realise he’s likely to be out all night?"

"I know," Sirius grumbles.

"You can’t sit here all night and stew like this, Pads."

"I know! Okay?" Sirius shouts, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I fucking know! I just—"

Sirius breaks himself off with a strangled shout, dropping his head in his hands. His shoulders ache from the tension that’s kept them taut for hours, his back is twinging from sitting half-hunched on the sofa since James left. He feels like a wound up children’s toy, so tight and coiled he’s going to snap any moment now. His head is beginning to pound, and he reaches up to tug on the strands of his hair, barely refraining from letting out a childish scream and kicking over the coffee table in front of him.

There is a hand gently untangling his fingers, pulling them away from his hair. The action is small but makes Sirius melt, the tension draining from his shoulders slightly.

"Pads," Moony says softly, "Talk to me."

"It’s just—" he lifts his head, letting out a shaky breath. "Now I know who he’s out with, who it really is, I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about it."

"About the fact that Prongs is shagging your little brother?"

"Honestly, I feel like I can’t even play that card," Sirius admits. He wonders what it’s like to play the big brother role again. "I’m just worried."

"About James?"

Sirius nods. "I don’t want him to get hurt."

"Why are you already assuming Regulus is going to hurt him?"

"Because it’s what he does," Sirius growls. "It’s how they raised him!"

"Sirius…" Remus shakes his head. "I don’t know how many times we need to remind you that the 15 year old you left is not the same 23 year old we know now."

"He’s awful, Moony," Sirius croaks.

"No," Moony shakes his head. "He was awful, Padfoot. Plus, you talk about how he went from this sweet kid who used to be your whole world, and you were his. If he managed to do a 180 change from that to the monster you describe, what’s to say he couldn’t do a whole 360 and turn back into the person you loved."

Sirius sighs, closing his eyes when Peter’s words from the hospital bombard him once more.

"James is a good judge of character," Moony adds, rubbing Sirius’ knee closest to him. "You need to trust him."

Sirius swallows thickly. "James always sees the good in everyone."

"But I don’t," Moony reminds him, tilting his head, "and I’m telling you now, Regulus is a good person. Yeah, he can be a bit of a prick and I’m pretty sure he could tone down the glaring and the eye rolling, but that doesn’t make him a bad person. You’re making it sound like Regulus sought James out to hurt you, but we both know he couldn’t have done that considering he didn’t know you or your friends."

"He’s already hurt James before."

Moony shrugs loosely, slouching into the sofa. "Yes, but James has told us about that. It was a moment of fear on Regulus’ part, and James made it sound like he was pretty apologetic afterwards. Look, James might be a bit softy but he isn’t the type to take shit from people laying down. If Regulus was such a bad person, James wouldn’t still be seeing him. Plus, me and Effie wouldn’t be vouching for him too."

Sirius deflates like a punctured balloon. Everything Moony is saying, as annoying as it is, Sirius can’t argue with. Truthfully, there isn’t an opinion in the world that he trusts more than Moony’s or Effie’s.

James, Effie, Moony and Peter. They’re all saying it. Is it possible that Regulus has changed? Their parents projected such outdated and horrific opinions. The homophobia, the racism, the egotistical classisms against anyone beneath upper class workers. Regulus seemed to soak it up in the last few years Sirius lived with them. He nodded when their parents spoke, didn’t argue with their horrible opinions. He agreed like a parrot and told Sirius he should too because arguing with them caused trouble.

If Regulus still believed those things, would he be seeing James? Would he be polite with James and Effie?

Right?

"Come on," Moony says suddenly, clapping Sirius gently on the knee and climbing off the sofa. "You can't sit here all night stressing about this. James isn't coming home tonight and I think it's safe to say he's going to be too distracted to text you anyway."

Sirius rolls his eyes - he did not need that pointed out to him. "Moony—"

"You eaten yet?" Moony asks from where he’s riffling through the draw under the TV where they keep the menus. "I’m going to order in Chinese. I'm really craving sweet and sour chicken balls."

Sirius slumps down on the sofa, admitting defeat. When Moony comes back, phone and menu in hand, he relaxes back into the sofa cushions and drags Sirius with him. Sirius melts, allowing Moony to manipulate him so he's curled into his side, Moony's arm around his back and stroking his flank soothingly.

"I think I might need more distraction than just food," Sirius murmurs.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Moony smirks. "I plan on keeping you well and truly distracted all night. We just need some fuel first."

Sirius looks up. "Is that so?"

"Food first."

"Fine."

James comes home the next afternoon. Moony managed to keep Sirius distracted as he promised, but when he had to leave in the morning to go to his mum's shop, Sirius went right back to stressing and fretting until the front door went just before three in the afternoon.

James looks tense as he walks in. For a moment, Sirius fears his worries came true and Regulus did something to hurt his best friend. Then, with a sinking stomach, he realises James is looking at him with a gutting kind of trepidation.

Regulus isn't the problem for James right now.

Clearly, the problem is Sirius again.

Sirius inwardly sighs from his spot on the sofa. He watches with twinging nerves as James tosses his keys in the pot by the door, walking across the floor to his bedroom. He disappears inside, and for a moment, Sirius waits for the door to slam shut.

It doesn't. James comes back out as quick as he went in, jacket missing and shoes off.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" Sirius asks, hoping to defuse the sudden, suffocating awkwardness.

James nods. "Yeah, sure."

Sirius practically leaps off the sofa and scurries into the kitchen, suddenly desperate for something to do.

"So," he starts after he's filled up the kettle. "How was—"

"You need to talk to Regulus."

Sirius spins around to face him. "What? Why—"

"No, listen to me," James interrupts, and he looks so damn serious and tense it makes Sirius want to flee from the room. "You need to talk to Regulus. It needs to come from you, Pads. The two of you need to talk, need to sort out whatever happened nine years ago because your opinion of him, quite frankly, is outdated and twisted by your views of your parents. I am staying with Regulus. For me, he isn’t going anywhere. I don’t think you understand what he went through after you left, and if him being here, with a new name and a life away from your parents isn’t enough proof that you’ve got the wrong idea of him, then you need to speak to him so he can tell you."

"Prongs…" Sirius starts, shaking his head, but James ploughs on as if he never spoke.

"You kept him a secret, Sirius!" James practically seethes. "He was a kid! Whatever you say he believed in from your parents, it could have been undone. It has been undone. He did it himself, he got out, but if you’d bloody told someone about him, he could have got out when he was 15 instead of 18 and at the end of his fucking wits!"

Sirius blinks in surprise, barely refraining from taking a step back at the venom in his friends voice, at the volume in his shouts.

James never shouts. He never raises his voice, especially at his friends, and most importantly, never at Sirius.

"You had every right to runaway. I don’t want you to ever feel like you didn’t, and you know you were always welcome with us. I wouldn’t change a thing, and I would never change you coming to us where you were safe," James sighs suddenly, running a hand through his hair frantically. "I know you believe he’s a bad person, and maybe he was, but he was a kid then. You were both kids, Pads. You were kids living in a shit place, and you both got out. He’s not your parents. He’s his own person, and a fucking good one."

"He won’t speak to me," Sirius argues.

"Maybe not," James shrugs, "But you need to try."

"How?"

"I can give you his number. I don’t think bombarding him at work will achieve much."

"That just for you to do, huh?"

"It’s a reserved position yes," James grins. Then, his face falls again, "So, will you? Text him, I mean?"

"Okay," Sirius murmurs. "Do I have to do it now?"

"Yes," James nods, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. "Before you psych yourself out of it and we’re back to square one."

James holds out his hand expectantly, and a moment later Sirius finally jolts into action and hands his own phone over. He watches as James puts Regulus’ number into his contact. He opens up the messages app and holds the phone out back to Sirius.

The name on the screen glares back at him in tiny, mocking writing. Surprisingly, it hasn’t taken Sirius long to transition from calling his little brother Rasalas to Regulus. Now, the new name holds a whole new ballpark of terror.

"I’m scared," Sirius whispers, eyes flitting up to meet his best friends.

"I know. It’s…" James lets out a heavy breath and a bitter laugh. "This is a bloody mess, I won’t lie, Pads. This is all… it’s not your fault. Not all of it, at least. You were a kid too, don’t forget that."

Sirius raises an eyebrow. "But?"

"You’re an adult now," James shrugs. "It’s time you start acting like it."

Sirius scoffs, shaking his head. "You don’t understand, Prongs."

"No, I don’t," James nods. "I didn’t live there. I didn’t go through what you two went through. The only person who can really understand you is the person you refuse to talk to."

"I said I’d text him," Sirius grumbles petulantly.

"Good," James smiles. "Do it then."

Grumbling still, Sirius snatches the phone. His fingers tremble slightly, heart pounding stupidly. He freezes, fingers hovering above the keys.

"What do I say?"

"Just ask to meet up, say you want to talk," James shrugs. "Leave all the talking for when you see him."

Sirius sighs. James is making it sound so easy.

Sirius (15:03) Hi, this is Sirius. James gave me your number, I was hoping we could meet up and talk?

"How’s this?" Sirius asks, showing his phone.

James reads it and nods. "Yeah. Send it."

Sirius’ stomach drops as he presses the send button.

"I did it," Sirius says, and the confession comes out small and childlike, timid. He keeps staring down at the phone, the words staring back at him, mocking and foolish.

A hand gently claps him on the shoulder and he looks up to see James staring at him with huge, sympathetic eyes.

Suddenly, his best friend grins.

"That was so much easier than I thought it was going to be."

"Oh, fuck off," Sirius rolls his eyes, shrugging off James' hand despite the words not holding much heat. He tosses his phone on the counter and turns back to the half-made tea. "You're such a dick."

"You love me."

Sirius rolls his eyes again, turning back around to hand James the cup of tea. He flashes him a slight smirk, "I guess I do."

It takes Regulus three days to reply.

Three whole days.

72 hours.

4,320 minutes.

Considering the state Sirius has managed to get himself into in that time, the reply is vastly anticlimactic.

Regulus (07:14) nova cafe next thursday at 2pm.

"That’s the earliest he'll be able to see you," James explains when Sirius tells him the news, complaining that he now has to suffer another five days of stressing about what's to come. "He's on a run of five shifts now. I think he's on a night shift on Wednesday too, thats why he's said to meet in the afternoon."

Sirius bristles. He should have never done this. He shouldn't have let James talk him into this. It's going to be a disaster, he knows it.

"You’ve waited this long. You survived not speaking to the guy in nine years, you can last a few more days," Moony supplies unhelpfully when Sirius is suffering with the idea later that night.

"I'm so scared," Sirius whispers.

Moony doesn't pause in his movements of running his fingers through Sirius' hair where the shorter male is resting his head on his chest.

"Of what?" He asks gently, patiently.

Sirius closes his eyes tightly. He doesn't even know where to start.

He's scared of everything.

He scared he's going to look at Regulus and see Walburga.

He's scared Regulus is going to be horrible, nasty, the bigot he left behind. He's scared he's going to prove Sirius right.

Yet, he's also scared he's going to prove Sirius wrong. He's scared Regulus is going to be different, good, damaged from the years he spent alone in Grimmauld place.

He's scared it's going to be his fault.

He's scared to be faced with the consequences of the actions he's convinced himself for nine years that he did the right thing.

When James got home after that night with Regulus, and he came barging in telling Sirius it has to be him that reached out to Regulus, implying that something happened to his younger brother between the ages of 15 to 18. The thought is consuming Sirius like a poison travelling around his bloodstream.

All the feelings Sirius buried so deep after he ran away, all the worry and hatred and hurt he locked away because it was easier to pretend life in Grimmauld didn’t exist than face the fact his parents abused him and his little brother was still there.

Regulus was so cruel by the time Sirius left. The boy in that house wasn’t his little brother anymore. Gone was the cute, compassionate, sensitive and kind boy Sirius grew up watching over. Instead, he was replaced by a parrot of their parents, snarling and scowling, looking at Sirius like he was dirt beneath his shoe, down his nose like Walburga and Orion did.

Regulus hated him, hated everything he rebelled against his parents for. He was happy there, he was the favourite. Regulus wouldn’t have come with him anyways.

Sirius does the only thing he knows. He throws himself into work for the next five days, so preoccupied with designs and clients and tattooing that he doesn’t grant himself anytime to think about anything else.

It works well for the first four days. Sirius spends every waking moment at the tattoo shop. He does overtime by the mile, staying so late some nights that Moony and James turn up to drag him home from his 13 hour days. He’s exhausted, run himself dry and combative when they tell him to stop. He doesn’t want to stop. He wants to work until his fingers bleed and he’s so tired he doesn’t have time to think.

The method works swimmingly until Wednesday rolls around. Frank is in getting a tattoo on his arm, and Sirius of course was happy to oblige when he agreed to do the design and the work months ago. Of course, he wasn’t banking on doing the tattoo 24 hours before he was going to be seeing Regulus for the first time properly in almost 10 years.

He’s been tattooing for hours. It’s a complex piece, and Sirius enjoyed designing it. Around him, Frank chats to Peter, who’s waiting for them to finish so the two of them can hang out afterwards. Sirius zones out, barely paying attention to the conversation spinning around him. He tries to focus as much as he can on the task at hand, but his mind keeps drifting to the upcoming daunting events.

He can’t believe he’s going to be doing it. He can’t believe he’s going to be sitting down and speaking to Regulus.

When Sirius ran away all those years ago, he remembers promising himself he’d have nothing to do with a single member of the Black family ever again. Alphard reached out a few times, but Sirius ignored him until he stopped. He was so terrified that any contact with a single person from the family would lead to Walburga and Orion finding him.

He never imagined in a million years that he’d bump into Regulus again. That Regulus would find James and Effie first, that he’d know Moony, that he’d move back to London and change his name. Honestly, Sirius didn’t know what he expected to happen to Regulus. The only plausible outcome he assumed for his younger brother was to follow the family line and go into law like their parents always planned for the both of them.

Sirius never expected his brother to come back into his life and cause it all to fall apart.

Though, Sirius knows the destruction of his life is partly his own fault. He should have told his friends about his younger brother. He didn’t intend to keep him a dirty little secret, it just happened. He just wanted to keep the things that happened behind the walls of Grimmauld Place secret, and Regulus got caught in the crossfire.

He wonders how things might have been different, how his life would be changed if the domino of effects never happened. If he’d told them all about his younger brother from the start, what would have changed?

"Everything okay, Sirius?"

His head snaps up from where he’s hunched over Franks arm.

The other boy is looking at him, and Sirius has to shake himself.

"What? Yeah. Of course. Yes. Why?"

Frank raises an eyebrow. "Aside from you being unsettlingly quiet, the answer you just gave makes me all the more concerned if you’re good to be tattooing me right now."

Sirius opens his mouth to reply, but all that comes out is a breathy exhale.

How is he meant to answer that?

Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, buddy. I’m just a bit mentally preoccupied with the fact that tomorrow afternoon I have to sit across from my younger brother, whom I abandoned nine years ago alone in the house with our two abusive parents and I’ve managed to convince myself for nine years I did the brave, right thing, but now everyone is making me question if my brother is the demonic asshole I remember or if I was just a massive cunt for leaving him.

He can’t exactly say that.

Turns out, he doesn’t have to.

Peter beats him to it.

"He’s meeting his brother properly for the first time in nine years tomorrow and he’s bricking it."

Sirius’ head snaps up (thankfully, he instinctively pulls his hand and the tattooing needle away from Franks arm at the same time). "Peter!"

"What?" Peter shrugs, unfazed. "Frank’s right, man. You’re acting skittish as fuck and, as you’re currently in control of the very permanent tattoo needle pressing against his skin, the guy deserves to know."

Sirius groans, shaking his head and looking back down.

"Fuck, man," Frank breathes. "Nine years?"

"Yeah," Sirius admits quietly. "Haven’t seen him since I was 16."

"On good terms or bad terms?"

Sirius sighs. "Bad. Very bad."

"Your fault?"

"No," Sirius says, then pauses. "At least, I don’t think so. It’s complicated."

"Siblings are, mate," Frank agrees, nodding slightly. "I remember when Alice had to comfort Lily over her bitch of a sister a few years back. Honestly, I’m so happy I’m an only child sometimes. Having siblings sounds like a right pain."

"Lily Evans?" Peter asks.

"Yeah. She cut Lily off when she moved to London. It was quite sad really. I think it was all jealousy, to be honest. Her sister didn’t like her becoming a nurse and moving to London, basically doing well for herself. She cut Lily out of her life, but not before she said some pretty nasty shit."

"Fucking hell," Peter whistles. "Must suck to suddenly be cut out of someones life."

Sirius stiffens, glancing up to see if Peter is looking at him.

He is.

Brilliant.

Good to know what Peter’s opinion on the matter is, as subtle as he dishes it out.

"Maybe her sister had good reasons," Sirius says to Peter.

Truthfully, he doesn’t doubt Lily’s sister had no good reason to cut Lily off other than her own consuming jealousy that she was succeeding in something. Sirius says that to Peter as a hidden translation of maybe I had good reasons to do what I did.

"I can’t think of anything that would ever make me cut my siblings off," Peter shrugs, seemingly unbothered, but Sirius can read between the lines. He sees the stiffness in Peter’s shrug, the way he’s crossed his arms over his chest, how he looks Sirius dead in the eye as he speaks. "Even if they turned into the biggest assholes in the world, I’d never leave them behind. That’s what siblings are for, right? Unconditional love."

"Every family is different," Sirius replies coldly. He didn’t get this defensive last time Peter did this in Moony’s hospital room, but this time Peter has decided to do it front of company. 

"Uh, are we still talking about Lily and her sister?" Frank asks.

Sirius looks at him, closing his eyes and forcing himself to relax. "Sorry, Frank."

"We’re good, mate," Peter smiles. "Just having a friendly chat about the importance and resilience of sibling relationships."

"Right," Frank says slowly. He looks at Sirius, smiling softly, "I’m sure tomorrow will go alright, mate. Nine years is a long time, but you’ve got each other now, right? You can make up for lost time."

"Yeah," Sirius replies thickly. "Right."

The rest of the tattoo, Sirius is silent. Frank and Peter chat around him, but he zones out. He just focuses on making sure he gets Frank’s work done right and not allowing his hands to shake despite the tremors twitching in his body.

When he’s done, Frank is beaming. He stares at it, spouting compliments and cheers in the mirror. When he disappears to use the toilet, Sirius spins around to Peter.

"Pete, what the fuck?" Sirius hisses. "Seriously? What the fuck was that about? I thought we were all good?"

"We are," Peter nods, climbing off the table he’s been sat on. "I just wanted to remind you the generalised opinion when it comes to siblings, estranged or not."

"I didn’t need reminding!" Sirius snaps.

"You did, and I’m going to keep reminding you until I’m blue in the face, mate," Peter replies.

Sirius runs a hand through his hair in frustration, barely resisting tugging harshly at the ends. "Look, Wormtail, I know how you feel about this. Me and Regulus… it’s not the same for you and your siblings—"

"True," Peter interrupts. "And I won’t deny that my home circumstances were nothing like yours either, but out of all of the Marauders, I am the only one with you who understands what it’s like to have siblings. I could never imagine cutting one of them off, no matter who they beginning to become."

"I was 16," Sirius replies, voice small, ashamed.

Peter suddenly looks slightly guilty. His face softens, shoulders slouching.

"Yeah, mate. I’m not blaming you for getting out of there, for running as fast as you could the moment you had a chance. I’m just reminding you that the person you left behind is still allowed to be angry. No matter who he was beginning to act like."

Sirius closes his eyes and drops down in the chair with a huff. He feels exhausted, bones as heavy as lead and muscles aching as if he’s ran a hundred marathons in the last day.

"I need to go, mate. Good luck tomorrow, yeah? Text me if you need anything, and if you don’t need anything, then text me what happens," Peter says, and when Sirius glances up with an unimpressed look, the smaller boy grins and shrugs, "I’m invested in the drama now. Honestly, I reckon it’ll be more interesting than when Jennifer Lawrences’ nudes got leaked."

Sirius rolls his eyes. "You’re ridiculous. And incredibly mean."

"You love it," Peter grins, clapping him on the shoulder. "See ya, Pads!"

The day of Thursday comes with overcast. Sirius planned to lay in, to sleep as much of the morning away so he doesn’t spend the hours leading up to two o’clock thinking himself sick. Of course, the one time his body decides it doesn’t want to take advantage of the free morning, he’s awake at dawn. In fact, he’s up before James, which is a crime in itself, as the other boy is almost always up with sunrise every single morning.

Sirius is on his third cup of coffee by the time James surfaces. The other boy seems startled to see Sirius curled up on the sofa, cup in hand, staring into space.

"Pads?" He asks. "How long you been up?"

"Few hours," Sirius murmurs back. He sounds as hollow as he feels.

"Couldn’t sleep?"

Sirius shakes his head. James sits down beside him, looking at him with eyes crinkled with concern and worry.

"It’s gonna be okay, mate."

"It’s not," Sirius whispers. "It’s going to be horrible."

"Yes, but it will be worth it," James replies. "You two need to talk. You need to hash out whatever happened between the two of you. It’s killing you both, it’s been killing you both. You’re brothers, you’re all the family either of you two have."

"We’re not brothers anymore, James," Sirius confesses. "We haven’t been brothers in a long time. All today is going to do is confirm that."

"You don’t have to walk away hugging and loving each other again. You just need to hear each other out. You need to see what you did to each other, how you’re both hurt. You need to both realise the villains in your story is your parents, not each other," James says. He sighs, "I’ve heard both sides, Pads. You’ve told me everything, and so has Regulus. Trust me, you’ve both been hurt by one another. This is all stemmed from a miscommunication in that house that has festered and developed."

"You think I abandoned him," Sirius says, and he stares James dead in the eye, begging him, daring him to admit it.

James takes a moment to reply.

"Yes. I do, Pads. I think you left your little brother in that house with your abusive parents, and I think Regulus has every right to be angry about that," James says, and Sirius feels his composure crumble. "But! I also think that you were 16 years old, that the relationship between you and Regulus was already falling apart, that he was acting like your parents and fighting you. I think you were hurt, alone, and saw an opening to get and you took it. And I will keep telling you till I’m out of breath, that I’m so fucking proud that you got out. You escaped them, Pads."

"But?"

James sighs.

"But… you have to face the consequence that you escaping left him there alone. He’s going to be angry," James says. "You can’t blame him for that, Pads. You need to hear him out, because he went through some pretty messed up stuff after you left."

The coffee in his stomach turns to stone.

"What happened?"

James shakes his head. "That’s for Regulus to tell you, not me. I’m just telling you this so you’re patient with him. You need to look at him and see your brother, not your parents."

"The last time I knew him I couldn’t tell the difference between the two."

James smiles sadly. "If you got to know him now, you can."

James makes sure Sirius only drinks tea after that cup of coffee. He makes him some breakfast, shoves him into the shower and when he comes out, he drags Sirius to do some food shopping with him. It’s a generous attempt at distraction, but Sirius isn’t really listening to James as they walk around the store and put items in the trolley. It kills a few hours, at least. When they get back, James makes him more tea, denying him more coffee, and forces Sirius to have some lunch.

Despite the morning moving slow and dragging, Sirius feels like he blinks and it’s time to leave.

He finds Nova Cafe easily enough. When he gets there, he hides around the corner and has a cigarette in attempt to calm his nerves. When it doesn’t work, he has another three until he feels like he’s going to gag on another toke.

Walking up to the shop front is hard. His heart is racing so hard he’s worried people will see the pulsating of his chest. His hands shake where they're stuffed in his leather jacket pockets, and the rest of his is vibrating so bad he's worried his legs will give out from under him. The light reflecting on the windows makes it impossible to have a clear view of inside the cafe, and the simple hurdle fills Sirius with dread. He can't see if Regulus is already inside, he has no extra time to prepare if he is as he can't tell until he walks in. He has to do the awkward look around, and if Regukus is there, he then has to walk to the table, and with his legs so shaky he's sure he'll miss a step or simply collapse in a heap on the floor.

Regulus isn't inside.

Sirius can't tell if that brings him comfort or not. On one hand, he gets to choose the table, and Regulus has to come to him. On the other hand, Regulus being late might mean he's not turning up at all.

Sirius stands awkwardly in the cafe doorway. Should he sit down and wait to order a drink with Regulus? Would it make it weird to go to the till together? Should he just get a drink and sit down? Or would it be too rude, and should he get Regulus one too for when he gets here? No, Regulus might not like that. He doesn't know what Regulus would drink, although surely you can't go wrong with a simple flat white, unless he doesn't like milk, and then if Sirius gets him an americano, but what if he doesn't like black coffee? What if he doesn't drink coffee at all? Sirius is sure James has taken him drinks from the Pettigrew cafe before, but what if it's tea? Or hot chocolate?

Sirius is flapping, suddenly feeling like a small child unsure what to do. He shakes himself, noticing the barista behind the counter staring at him.

He orders himself a coffee and sits down.

Minutes drag slower than a snails pace. Sirius is getting twitchy by 10 past, clammy palms wringing together in his lap. He gets out his phone, fingers trembling against the screen.

Sirius (14:11) he's not here

Sirius (14:11) moony what do i do?

Moony (14:12) he's probably running late, james did say he had a night shift last night

Sirius (14:12) what if he's not running late and instead just standing me up?

Moony (14:15) give him a chance, pads x

Sirius bites the inside of his cheek.

Sirius (14:17) if he’s not here by 25 past i’m leaving

Moony (14:17) okay darling x

A few minutes later, the bell dings again and Sirius looks up sharply, at this point only half expecting it to actually be Regulus.

He jolts with surprise when it is.

There, standing in the doorway, casually looking around the cafe, is his little brother. When their eyes meet, Regulus doesn't seem to shrink in their contact. He walks briskly, easily, steps bold with purpose. He seems much more steady than Sirius feels as he drops down in the opposite chair.

Sirius feels both hot and cold all over. He forgets how to breath, his entire focus on the man opposite him, with the stormy grey eyes staring at him with so much hatred, so much disgust.

"Are you not getting a drink?" He asks.

"No."

The single, cold response has Sirius almost rolling his eyes. This is going to go brilliantly.

Silence settles between them again. The air is thick and suffocating around them. Sirius doesn't know where to look, so his eyes flick between his mug on the table to the person opposite him.

He's slightly struck how Regulus is in front of him, now presented in daylight in a calm cafe compared to the strobe lights of a club, looks so different yet so similar.

Regulus used to be a cute kid, and that was a simple fact. He was all squishy cheeks, impossibly huge eyes, and had the cheekiest smile that never seemed to dampen when it was just the two of them. Now, his little brother is all sharp lines. A cutting jaw, prominent cheekbones, eyes sharp and glaring daggers. His hair is longer too, more curly, and unsurprisingly, less messy. It the last years that they lived together, Regulus was just starting to learn how to contain his hair, despite their mother never letting it grow very long for the curls to have much character.

If Sirius looks hard enough, he can still see his little brother in there. He can still see the delicate slope of his nose that Sirius used to kiss when he was sad. He can still see the wild curls, jet black against his pale skin. He can still see the glitter in his grey eyes, that sparkled when he was both happy and sad.

He wonders if the smile is the same. It used to be so innocent back then, untainted by the world.

But Regulus isn't smiling now. Instead, the younger boy is sitting stiff and straight, jaw clenched and eyes hard. He’s staring at Sirius like he’s angry to be here, like he’s unsatisfied with the sight before him.

Sirius supposes that shouldn’t be much of a surprise.

"You look well," Sirius offers, desperate to break the tension practically squishing him.

Regulus’ eyes flick and up and down him at the table.

"You look awful."

"Fuck sake," Sirius mutters bitterly, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Do you really have to—"

"What are we doing here, Sirius?" Regulus interrupts sharply. "Did you invite me here so we can play happy families again? So you can tell me how great your life was after you left me alone in that house to rot? Or are you going to tell me that you still hate me because somehow in your tiny, twisted little brain, you believe I’m a mini version of our parents?"

Sirius stiffens, eyes locked hard on the person in front of him. "Did James—"

"James didn’t tell me anything. We don’t talk about you, sorry to burst your bubble. You and your life aren’t even on my radar," Regulus snaps, words cold and mocking. Sirius wants to smack the expression off his snotty face. How dare he use his connection with James to ridicule Sirius? He had James first. James is his.

He tells himself to stop. They're not here to talk about James. They're here to talk about the brotherhood they lost all those years ago and what's happened since.

Not that Sirius wants to know that.

The last week has made him become worried his vision of Regulus' life after Sirius' departure wasn't as rosey and glamorous as he once thought. The pity in James' eyes, he anger and resentment when they've ever lightly touched on why it should be Sirius to reach out instead of Regulus. James hasn't described specifically it in words, but Sirius suspects that he knows a lot more about what Regulus' life after Sirius has been like.

Sirius doesn't know if he's ready to face that yet.

"I can see in your eyes you hate me," Regulus says. "You used to look at me like I was Walburga or Orion staring back at you. It wasn’t hard to figure out you believed I was just like them."

"Weren’t you?"

Regulus scoffs.

"Seriously?" Sirius accuses. "Because if I remember correctly, you sure spent a lot of time agreeing with the nasty, racist, bigoted shit that came out of their mouths!"

"You really are stupid, aren’t you?" Regulus sneers. "It probably didn’t occur to you, as you seemed to enjoy aggravating them so much, but the only way to survive in that house was to agree!"

Sirius shakes his head. "I protected you so you didn't have to!"

"You stopped protecting me a long time ago, Sirius. You just didn't realise it."

"Thats not fair, and you know it."

Regulus rolls his eyes so hard Sirius is surprised they come back to centre without getting stuck in the back of his head.

"You’re insufferable," Regulus grumbles, and Sirius’ patience snaps.

"And you’re a piece of shit!" He hisses. "You’ve got everyone fucking fooled, but I’m the only one who knows what you are."

"And what, brother dearest, am I?" Regulus drawls. "Considering you haven’t spoken to me in nine years, I’m intrigued to find out what your clear hostile interpretation of me is."

"Have you forgotten what you were like when I left?" Sirius asks. "You were exactly like them! Everything nasty, racist, homophobic, horrible thing they said you fucking agreed with!"

"Forgive me for trying to find a way to avoid mother’s temper while I was stuck in that house alone."

"You weren’t alone! I was still there!"

"You weren’t!" Regulus snarls. "You were always out. You never came home, and when you did, you immediately started arguing with them, riling them up. You made it worse!"

"I was standing up to them!"

"Why?" Regulus scoffs. "Why even try? All it ever got you was a fucking bruise for your troubles."

"Because I wasn’t going to roll over and allow them to slander anything and everything. Their beliefs were unjustified, horrible. I wasn’t going to sit and agree with them because I was weak."

Regulus flinches, slowly leaning back. His gaze is murderous, shocked.

He laughs softly, shaking his head.

"I always knew you thought I was weak."

"When it came to them, you weren’t exactly the bravest."

"That’s not fair," Regulus snaps. "If you were so strong, you wouldn’t have ran away in the middle of the night like a child."

"They were killing me!"

"And what about me?"

"You were fine!" Sirius shouts, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "They didn't hurt you anymore! You were exactly what they wanted! You were the fucking golden child, the perfect heir they always wanted! It was me they hated. I left because they were going to kill me!"

"Is that what you believe?" Regulus asks, voice suddenly breathless. "After all these years? You seriously telling me you thought I’d be fine?"

"Of course!" Sirius laughs humourlessly. "They hadn’t touched a hair on your head for years by the time I left!"

Regulus stares at him. His face is all sharp lines, his shoulders tense and posture stiff. He’s looking at Sirius like he can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, like Sirius has suggested something so scandalous, so radical, that it’s ridiculous to believe and state.

Suddenly, Regulus shifts slightly. His eyes stay hard but they droop slightly with pity and defeat.

"Did you know they blamed me when you ran away? They believed I helped you, that I knew where you went. Father thought he could beat it out of me. He did enough damage that I don’t remember the first three days you weren’t there," Regulus smiles grimly, tilting his head as if to say what can you do? "When they finally believed me when I told them I didn’t know where you’d gone, they moved us to France so I couldn’t do the same as you. Imagine that? Alone, isolated, stuck in France with our parents. They locked me up, Sirius! They wouldn’t let me leave the house. You think they just moved on when you left? They were furious! I payed the fucking price for you! It didn’t matter how much I tried to please them, even if I was faking it, it wasn’t enough anymore. They were constantly angry, constantly shouting! They were cunts before you left, why did you ever think they’d change after you?"

Sirius shakes his head. Either in argument or denial, he’s not sure. His head is suddenly spinning.

There’s no way.

No fucking way.

They couldn’t have done that.

He couldn’t have done that.

"It was me they hated."

Please, tell me it’s true. Tell me they didn’t hurt you like that.

"No, Sirius," Regulus shakes his head, tone mocking as if teasing a small child. "They hated everything. We were just the easiest targets, and you running away gave them a single one. I had to sit like a waiting duck everyday in that house waiting for them to lose their shit and use me as a personal fucking punching bag!"

"No," Sirius whispers. His chest and stomach feel suddenly hollow. "That can’t be true."

Regulus tilts his head, eyes hard and jaw set. "Why? Because it ruins your fantasy about me? Because it destroys your justification for running away and keeping me a secret in that house?"

"No!" Sirius cries shrilly. "Because you were supposed to be fine! You were becoming like them, and you were going to grow up and be safe and rich and become Orion the fucking second!"

"Sorry to ruin your false premonition," Regulus sneers, leaning back in his chair. "But life didn’t exactly plan out like that."

"How bad?" Sirius asks.

The younger boy frowns. "What?"

"How bad were they?" Sirius asks. "In France. How… what did they do to you?"

"I’m not telling you."

"Regulus—"

"I wouldn’t want to ruin your image of me any further."

Sirius shrugs, "You’ve already proven me wrong."

"Have I?" Regulus asks. "Because you’re still looking at me like I’m the monster you believe I was destined to become."

"When I left, you were a horrible person. You hated me, you spoke to me like they did, you believed the things they did."

"Good to know I was that good of an actor," Regulus drawls sarcastically. "Clearly I’m in the wrong industry."

"Stop it, Regulus," Sirius snaps. "You can’t tell me it was all acting."

Regulus sighs heavily, bone-deep. He looks out the window, and says, "It’s surprising what people can do to avoid their mother using a wine glass as a weapon over the dinner table."

It’s not the confession that cuts deep, but the sudden exhausted, dull, lifeless tone of his younger brothers voice. Regulus looks like the fight had drained out of him, like the strength to do anything is so agonising.

When their eyes meet over the table, Sirius doesn’t see Walburga.

He see’s Rasalas.

He sees the younger boy all those years ago, barely a teen, eyes tired, drained.

"I wasn’t like you, Sirius. The only way for me to survive that house was to pretend and agree. I didn’t have friends to run to. In the end, I didn’t even have you. I had myself, and even before you left they were killing me. I had to adapt to survive, and every time you can home and antagonised them it was another nail in the coffin. I couldn’t stand it, I couldn’t keep watching you get hurt when I wasn’t strong enough to protect you," Regulus says, toneless, dead. "Adapting was my form of survival, and I apologise if my performance was so grand that you couldn’t see past the curtains of it."

Suddenly, Regulus laughs. It’s not humorous or light, but instead, it’s heavy, weighted and forced.

"You know," he exhales, "I’ve never hated you for running away. They would have killed you if you stayed around much longer. I was always relieved to know you were safe, even if it wasn’t with me."

Sirius can’t speak above a whisper, throat too thick and chest too tight.

"Why do you hate me then?"

The answer scares him. Of all the things Regulus has confessed today, of all the assumptions and beliefs of Sirius’ he has contradicted, the answer to this is what makes Sirius truly terrified.

For years, Sirius hated Regulus for who he was becoming, or apparently, who he pretended to be. He assumed, if Regulus was going to hate him for anything, it would be running away and ruining everything, for being a disgrace.

If he doesn’t hate him for it, then what could it be?

"Because you left me behind," Regulus says, and Sirius’ world officially stops. "You gave up on me. That’s all I was reminded of in France. It wasn’t the punches and the kicks and the threats that buried me in France. It was the reminder that no physical wound from them could ever come close to the emotional one from you. You giving up on me killed me slowly, Sirius."

Sirius trembles. "But you got out."

It’s a poor excuse, he knows. It doesn’t matter now if Regulus got out. What matters is what happened to him before, what Sirius allowed to happen.

"I almost didn’t," Regulus admits, voice barely coming out strong enough to be heard. "The last wound I got in France didn’t come from them."

It’s like the air is abruptly sucked out of the room. Sirius goes to gasp, but jolts when he finds there is nothing to take into his lungs.

Voice shaking, he asks, "Who—"

"I didn’t have anywhere to run like you did," Regulus interrupts. "I didn’t have a family to take me in or friends to wipe my tears for me. I had a knife in a bathroom and Kreacher to stitch me up again."

All these years Sirius has relied heavily on the Marauders and the Potters to keep him afloat from the memories of Grimmauld Place drowning him. The Potter’s gave him a place to escape to, a warm home to hide and heal in. James, Remus and Peter gave him a safe space to be himself, to learn to love himself, accepted him. Walburga and Orion didn’t have a chance to get their talons into him after he met the Marauders. They provided him with the life he was being denied in that house, in that family.

Without them, Sirius knows he wouldn’t be here today.

Regulus had none of that. He had nothing, no one, and when he didn’t have Sirius, he gave up. His only resolve to the madness and pain he was subjected to was the remove himself completely and indefinitely.

And Sirius would have never known. It would have been years at least before he ever found out if Kreacher hadn’t saved him. Regulus was ready to go, and Sirius wasn’t there to stop him.

"I believe we’re done here," Regulus says, already standing. "It was a pleasure, Sirius. Let’s not do it again."

Sirius’ already cracking heart drops to the floor. He jolts, hands jerking like he wants to reach out and drag Regulus back down. "Regulus—"

"Don’t beg, Sirius. It’s beneath you," Regulus huffs, brushing off his trousers. Suddenly, he smiles, but it’s not warm or friendly. "Looks like I’m making us even. You left nine years ago, I’m leaving now."

"No," Sirius croaks. His eyes burn with tears. Not like this. Not now. You can’t leave now. Not after— "Please, you—"

"Do what you do best, brother. Pretend I don’t exist and stay the fuck away from me."

And with that, Regulus walks out of the cafe.

Within a second, Sirius’ composure completely crumbles.

What has he done?

— tbc.