carpe diem

18

Sirius is familiar with the urges of suicide. No one lives in Grimmauld Place growing up without thinking about it. Sirius has thought about it a dozen times, and he spent most of his childhood always wishing he could disappear, could leave the life he’s been handed.

The first time Sirius properly thought about it was when he was nine, and his father had just dished out a punishment for the books. Sirius was in trouble for ripping his blazer at school when he was playing football during lunch break. His father had been furious, has thrown Sirius down the stairs before beating him black and blue with his fists. Sirius had been in so much pain, crying and crying as his body throbbed. His father had been so angry, a combination of Sirius’ ruined uniform and losing a case he’d been working on, that he’d broken Sirius’ nose. Their parents usually didn’t touch their faces. They were smart in their abuse, and they only hurt Sirius and Regulus where they could cover it up. But that day, his father had been so angry he’d gone all out, forgotten the unspoken rules between their parents and used Sirius’ face as a punching bag.

Sirius had wanted to end it then. He remembers sitting in his bedroom later that evening, body throbbing and dried blood still on his face, ready to end it all. He’d thought it out: he’d get a bottle of his father’s whiskey after everyone had gone to bed, and he’d drink the whole thing then lay in a bathtub filled with water. His father always passed out after too much whiskey, so Sirius figured it would be the easiest way to go.

Sirius was set on the idea. He was waiting, patient, almost excited.

Then Regulus had come into his room.

His baby brother, tiny, only eight years old, with a bowl of warm water and some rags. Regulus had his own bruises on his wrists, hand marks that weren’t there before he went to school today, and Sirius knows they probably happened over the dinner that Sirius wasn’t allowed to attend.

Regulus had said nothing as he climbed on Sirius’ bed and began to clean his face with the warm, wet rags.

As Sirius stared at his baby brother, bruised himself, face stern in concentration as he gently cleaned the blood off Sirius’ face and held it against his throbbing nose, Sirius realised he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t kill himself and leave Regulus behind.

He had to stay, for Regulus.

Sirius had more thoughts and plans later on.

His parents pushed and pushed him closer and closer to breaking point for years. Every time, it was Regulus that pulled him back. It was the fear of leaving his baby brother with those monsters that made Sirius stop himself. He didn’t want to hurt Regulus in a way that he knew his suicide would.

When Sirius ran away, and left behind the brother he didn’t recognise, the life line attaching him to life was gone.

Yet, Sirius didn’t need Regulus by then. In the years the two brothers had drifted, Sirius used his friends as a mental bribe to stay alive. He wanted to be there for them, he didn’t want to hurt them, and once he was out of that horrible house, he realised that he wanted to live.

He didn’t want to die anymore.

Sirius didn’t realise till now, that all those years of staying alive for Regulus has been ruined. Sirius left anyways, and he left Regulus worse than alone.

Sirius had people to keep him alive. He was out, he was safe, away from his parents’ wrath and tempers.

He left Regulus there. His mistake in believing Regulus was safe and loved was wrong. Regulus was hurt even worse than when Sirius was there, and the pain was so bad that Regulus tried to end it all by himself.

And Sirius wasn’t there.

Regulus unknowingly stopped Sirius for years, and Sirius repaid him by leaving him with the fists and slaps and throws by himself. Sirius repaid him by leaving him with no choice but to take his own way out.

Regulus was more ready than Sirius, or maybe Regulus had no reason to stay. Sirius knows if Regulus hadn’t been around, Sirius wouldn’t have seen his 10th birthday.

If Kreacher hadn’t been there that night, if he hadn’t found Regulus in time, then Sirius would be visiting a grave yard right now.

That, is what has truly broken Sirius.

And it’s his fault.

In the end, it was Sirius’ absence that was the final straw for Regulus. If Regulus wasn’t alone, if Sirius had been there, he could have helped. He would have seen the signs in Regulus he’d seen in himself. He could have gotten them both out if he’d known.

Except, he wasn’t there. He left Regulus, and the only person he hurt in the process was the little boy who Sirius always promised to protect.

Sirius looks up at the empty space across from him. He’s been in a spiral since Regulus walked out of the cafe. His eyes burn, the empty seat blurs from the hot tears in his eyes.

"Are you alright, love?" The barista asks gently, standing beside the seat Regulus sat in. She’s looking at Sirius like he’s a lost, sobbing child.

"I need to go," Sirius croaks, voice barely audible. "I need— I need to go."

Standing up, Sirius steps out, pushing past the lady on shaky legs to the door. His heart is racing so fast that he feels lightheaded. He practically falls out the cafe front door, barely catching himself from face planting the pavement. He’s shaking all over. He looks around, as if Regulus is still going to be here. A sob escapes him when he unsurprisingly doesn’t see his little brother.

He’s lost him again.

He’s lost him, and Regulus could be— he could—

He tried it once.

What if he tries it again?

Scrambling with trembling hands, Sirius snatches his phone out and presses on James’ number.

He needs to find Regulus, and he needs to find him now.

James answers on the fourth ring. "Hey—"

"Where does Regulus live?"

"What?" James sounds startled. "Wait, Sirius, what are you—"

"James, listen to me!" Sirius interrupts again, voice shaking and high with hysteria. He's aware he's acting like this in public, but he's freaking out. Regulus is gone. Regulus is gone after admitting all of that, and Sirius needs to find before anything has a chance to happen again. "Regulus ran off! He told me everything. What they did to him, his sui— his a-attempt, running away when he was 18! And now he's took off! I need to find him, James. Please, I— I need— I have to—"

"Okay, okay, calm down, Pads," James says gently, and at the feeble instruction, Sirius takes a shaky, unsteady breath. "If I do this, do you promise that when you get to his—"

Sirius shakes his head despite James not being able to see him. He doesn't have time for this. There's no time for James to act like a martyr and lecture him right now. He needs to find Regulus.

He needs to find his brother.

Before it’s too late.

Kreacher was there last time, and now it’s down to Sirius to be there this time.

"I need to make this right, James. Please. I... I did this to him. I left him with them. I need— I have to make sure he's okay," he pauses to swallow down the sob choking his throat. "I didn't do it last time when I left, so I have to make up for it now."

James is quiet on the other end for a moment. It's only seconds, but it feels like a lifetime while Sirius waits. So much can happen in seconds. So much can change. This is precious time. This is wasted seconds he doesn't have, that Regulus might not have.

"Okay. I'll text you the address," James says, finally. Sirius lets out a relieved breath.

"Thank you," he whispers.

"You're welcome," James replies. "Pads, are you okay?"

Sirius wants to laugh. A laugh filled with self hatred, with disbelief, with hysteria. He's not okay. He doesn't know when he will be again. The last ten years of his life have been a lie. It doesn't matter if he made up the lie in his head, it was still false. He wasn't ready to admit he was wrong, but to know Regulus suffered the consequences of his actions have made the pill almost impossible to swallow.

"No. No, not really," Sirius confesses. "I just need to see him."

"Okay. Thats fair," James replies. "Text me if you need anything, alright?"

"Okay."

When the phone hangs up, Sirius takes a deep breath. He wipes his tears, sniffing. His phone pings a moment later and Sirius almost laughs at the address.

Of course Regulus would live in Kensington. Nothing but the best for his little brother, he supposes. Regulus wouldn't live anywhere but somewhere as high-end as Kensington.

Then his heart twinges. Regulus got himself to Kensington by himself. It wasn't Walburga or Orion's money that got him there. It was his, his own hard work and effort and choice. Regulus has made a life for himself, a career, an apartment.

Regulus truly did it all by himself.

His baby brother doesn't need him anymore.

But he did once.

All those years ago, when Regulus was alone in the house because Sirius was out with his friends, or when Regulus was alone in France because Sirius had ran away. That was when he needed Sirius. He needed Sirius and Sirius wasn't there.

He may be late, but Sirius is here now.

He needs to make it right, for his little brother.

Sirius doesn’t know if Regulus is going to be home. He could have gone anywhere in London, but his apartment is the best place to start. Perhaps Sirius should stay away, perhaps he should give Regulus space, or maybe even throw in the towel and leave him alone for ever. But Sirius can’t shake the consuming need to check on him, to make sure he’s okay, to make up for the years he wasn’t there.

He gets a taxi to Kensington. Outside, it takes him a minute to enter the building. He’s impressed to find the front door open, and goes up the stairs to Regulus’ apartment.

Sirius can’t bring himself to knock.

Regulus might not answer. He might tell just Sirius to fuck off and stay away forever without opening the door.

Regulus might not answer because he isn’t here. He might be out, somewhere else where Sirius will never be able to find him.

Regulus might not answer because he can’t. Because he’s bleeding out in the bathroom again with no one to cover the wounds, staunch the bleeding and stitch his skin together again. His brother might be fading away as he stands outside, bleeding slowly to death.

Sirius knocks. It’s rapid, hard, frantic. He’s suddenly fuelled by the need to see Regulus alive again.

Please answer.

Please answer.

Please.

Be okay.

Open the door.

Please.

Plea—

"Regulus!" He shouts, voice cracking. "Please, Reg. Open the door!"

Nothing. Silence.

"Regulus!" Sirius screams. "Open the door! I’ll kick it down if you don’t, I swear to fuck!"

He knocks again, loud and rapt.

And again.

And again.

And—

"Fuck off, Sirius."

He freezes. Regulus. He’s awake. Alive. He’s on the other side of the door.

"Reg," Sirius croaks. "Open up, please. We need— we need to talk."

"We have," Regulus replies. "We talked enough, now fuck off."

"No," Sirius growls. "We’re not done! We can’t be! You can’t drop all that shit and then run off! I can’t— I won’t allow it! So open up, and then we can talk some more."

"Or?"

"I won’t leave," Sirius promises. "Believe me, I’m a stubborn fucker. I will stay here all night, knocking and shouting. I’ll piss your neighbours off!"

"My neighbours are deaf. Shout away."

Sirius rolls his eyes. "I’ll piss you off then! I’ll stay and knock until you open this fucking door!"

Silence follows.

Sirius waits, and waits, and waits.

Then, he knocks. He bangs like a caged animal. Regulus’ door creaks with the weight of his pounding fists.

He doesn’t know how long he continuously knocks for. His fists start to ache, the banging filling his ears.

The door opens so abruptly he almost falls through it.

Regulus stands, glaring daggers at him so sharp the look could kill, but Sirius pays no attention. His eyes fleet over every inch of his brother, looking for blood or wounds or signs of harm.

Regulus is fine. He’s okay, he’s untouched and standing steady.

He didn’t do anything. He’s okay.

"You are the most annoying piece of shit to walk the Earth," Regulus snarls.

Sirius grins, slightly breathless. "Well, got you to open the door, didn’t it?"

Regulus rolls his eyes, going to close the door, and Sirius jumps in panic.

"Wait!" He cries, slamming his hands on the door to stop it. "Please, Reg. We need to talk."

"There is nothing to talk about," Regulus argues.

"That’s not true," Sirius says. "You know that’s not true. We can’t leave it like this."

"We can."

"We can’t."

"We can," Regulus snaps. "I’ve said enough and I’ve heard enough. Now, I’d like you to fuck off and leave me alone. I don’t need your fucking apologies."

"Well, I need to say them!" Sirius shouts.

Regulus blinks in surprise, and Sirius slumps tiredly.

"Please, Reg," he begs. "I can’t leave it like this. What do I need to do to get you to listen to me?"

Regulus doesn’t say anything.

"Do you want to hit me?" Sirius offers. "Seriously, hit me."

Regulus rolls his eyes. "Sirius—"

"No, do it," Sirius nods, standing back. "Hit me, Reg. Punch me. Get your own back."

"I don’t want—"

"I want you to," Sirius interrupts. "I deserve it. You deserve it too. Hit me. Go on, just—"

Sirius is cut off by a fist to his cheek. His face explodes with pain, vision whiting out for a moment. The momentum causes him to snap to the side, his whole body flying. He barely catches himself on the wall to stop himself from landing flat on his arse.

It takes him a moment to blink himself back into the present. His cheek his throbbing, pulsating. His eyes have watered with the force of it. His vision spins as he straightens back up.

Regulus is still standing on the other side of the door, having not moved an inch since he punched Sirius in the fucking face!

"You punched me!" Sirius cries.

Regulus shrugs one shoulder lazily. "You asked for it."

Well, Sirius can’t really be annoyed.

He did ask for it.

Repeatedly.

"Okay," Sirius breathes. "Feel better?"

Regulus seems to think about it for a moment, then he nods, smugly, "I do, actually."

"Good," Sirius nods, then he grimaces as his cheeks throbs. "Fuck me! That hurts."

Regulus’ face doesn’t even twitch with an ounce of sympathy.

"You asked to be punched."

"I wasn’t expecting you to actually do it!" Sirius shrieks. "Or for you to actually know how to properly punch. Fuck. Fuuuuck, how did you to learn to punch like that?"

Regulus scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don’t be so dramatic."

"I think you broke me cheek."

"It’s not broken."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Fucking hell."

"Do you want some ice?"

Sirius blinks in surprise. "Are you going to throw it at me?"

"Depends if you continue to be annoying."

"Yes please," he says. He might have asked Regulus to hit him to make him feel better, but Sirius wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t expecting Regulus to throw such a good swing.

For someone so scrawny and shorter than even Peter, Regulus doesn’t look like the type to be able to almost knock Sirius on his arse. Sirius was half convinced the force of a punch would have snapped Regulus’ tiny bird-like wrists.

Clearly, he was wrong.

Or, Regulus was just that angry.

Regulus steps into the apartment, leaving the door open in silence invitation. Sirius goes inside before the younger man can change his mind, cradling his aching cheek as he steps inside and takes in the view of the place Regulus has made for himself.

It’s small and spacious at the same time. It’s not as big as the loft Sirius shares with James, but it’s big enough. Despite being smaller, it’s not overcrowded. Open plan with the lounge and the kitchen, the rooms are easily separated. The small living space is made up of a sofa and a lounge chair, both covered in throws and cushions. Plants and books cover every spare space, even on the floor, and the coffee table is currently occupying some clearly abandoned papers and files.

The lounge looks well loved, cosy and inviting, yet the small kitchen is pristine and clear. The sides only have a toaster, a kettle and a coffee machine on them. Even the sink is empty of dishes and the drying rack is clear.

The place is nice. Really nice, in fact.

If Sirius didn’t know Regulus got it himself, he’d say it was exactly what he’d expect their parents to buy them.

"It’s nice," Sirius says. "You need more bookshelves, though."

Regulus grunts in reply as he hands Sirius a frozen bag of veg. He then begins to pack away the papers on the coffee table, stacking them up and walking down the small stretch of corridor by the kitchen and disappearing into a room.

Sirius stands awkwardly, bag against his face.

He’s not sure what he’s doing here. Now he’s in and he knows Regulus is okay, he feels nervous. He wanted to speak to Regulus, but he’s scared of what else he’ll find out.

Regulus comes back out, frowning when he see’s Sirius.

"You can sit," he says.

Sirius drops down immediately on the sofa, sinking into the surprisingly thick cushions.

"How long have you lived here?" He asks.

"Just over a year," Regulus replies. "Since I graduated."

"I can’t believe you’re a doctor."

"Glad to have once again blown your mind," Regulus murmurs.

"That’s not—"

"Want a drink?"

Sirius swallows down the urge to bulldoze over Regulus’ clear attempt at changing the subject. "What do you have?"

"Margaritas."

"You want to drink?"

"I’m not in the mood to have this conversation with you sober, so yes, I am going to be drinking," Regulus snaps. "Do you want one, or do you want to drink fucking water?"

Honestly, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea, Sirius muses. It might be only four in the afternoon, but it’s five o’clock somewhere, right?

"I’ll have a margarita please."

Regulus nods and wordlessly begins to move around the kitchen. Sirius doesn’t dare to speak as he waits.

This feels weird. He never imagined he’d be sitting in Regulus’ apartment, with a shiner on his cheek and frozen bag of veg slowly easing the swelling, waiting for a homemade margarita from the little brother he never thought he’d speak to again.

When he ran away from home, he hated Regulus as much as he hated their parents. Whenever Sirius began to regret leaving Regulus behind, he always remembered the last few years, watching his baby brother turn against him, spit those nasty words, nod along with what their parents believed in. He always thought the person he walked away from wasn’t the little boy he grew up protecting.

Sirius never imagined he was going to be wrong.

He never imagined that Regulus was lying, that was just hiding to protect himself.

He never imagined that Regulus was going to continue to get hurt, isolated, suffer to the point of no return.

He never imagined to be sitting here, with a painful twist in his gut knowing that Regulus almost wasn’t here.

He jolts when Regulus walks in front of him, handing him a glass of fresh, cold margarita. He thanks him weakly and takes a sip as Regulus sits down on the chair.

"It’s good," Sirius says. It is - if Regulus ever wanted to quit being a doctor, he’d make a sterling barman.

"Of course it is," Regulus scoffs. "I might want to punch you again, but I’m not that bad of a host to provide bad margaritas."

Sirius winces and takes another sip.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, he spits out, "I’m sorry."

Regulus’ focus snaps to him.

"For what?"

"For everything," Sirius admits. "For leaving you. For believing you were like them. For blaming you for them hating me. I should have… I shouldn’t have left you with them. I knew what they were like, and I shouldn’t have ever believed that they wouldn’t hurt you when I was gone."

Sirius stops and forces himself to take a deep breath. He feels sick to his stomach, and it’s nothing to do with drinking a few sips of alcohol on an empty stomach. He bows his head, feeling like he’s moments away from truly falling apart.

"Why did you never tell anyone about me?"

Sirius’ head snaps up.

He’s been scared of that question.

He doesn’t know if Regulus would understand. He doesn’t know if he’d get it. James, Peter and Remus didn’t.

"It was an accident," Sirius says.

Regulus scoffs coldly, rolling his eyes. "You met them when you were 11, Sirius. You’re 25 now—"

"It just happened, Reg," Sirius interrupts, desperate to get him to listen, to have someone listen to him. "I got to be a different person with them. It was different than when I was at home. I could be myself, Reg. I got to be loud and happy, explore myself and the world. I… I had to keep school and home separate. I didn’t want them to know what happened, what they did to us. It wasn’t normal, it was embarrassing. I was embarrassed that mum and dad threw me around and beat me up. I couldn’t tell anyone, and the easiest way to keep quiet was to never talk about it. I didn’t realise how long I went never mentioning you until it was too late."

Regulus stares at him. His face is unreadable, but at least he’s not telling Sirius to get fucked.

"I had a chance to reinvent myself at school. There were no boundaries, no rules, no expectations. I loved being around the guys because they liked me for me, they allowed me to act myself and make mistakes, and they accepted my fuckups and my flaws without hits or punishments. Being with them made me realise how much I hated it at home, and I— I’m sorry. I never meant to forget about you, but when I was with them, I got to forget about Grimmuald. I felt free, and fuck me, Reg, it was like an addiction. I just— I loved it. I loved them, who let allowed me to be, how they encouraged me to be myself. I never meant for you to be left out of it, I swear.

"I always intended to get us both out when I turned 18. I had this plan, and even if it didn’t work, I was going to get us away from them and safe. I never planned to run away and leave you, Reg. I promise, I didn’t. I just… I spent so much time with them that it made being at home so much harder. Mum and dad were getting worse, you were shutting me out, and I… I just ran.

"I know it doesn’t make sense. I know I— I know I should have told someone about you, but I think by the time I was in a place to tell Effie or Monty I was embarrassed."

"Of me?"

"And that I’d left you behind. That I’d kept you a secret for so long."

"You chose them over me?"

With a heat cracking in two, Sirius shamefully nods.

"I’m sorry," he whispers. "I didn’t mean to, Reg. I swear, I never meant to. When I met them, I never intended to hurt you. They were… it was just… it was so much better with them than it was at home. Not with you, but with our parents. Being with them made me realise how wrong our parents were, and I couldn’t stand to be there when I could be with James, Remus and Peter."

"And what about me?"

"By the time I realised what I’d done, I thought I’d lost you," Sirius says, closing his eyes to shut out the way Regulus is staring at him. "I thought you’d changed. I thought I hadn’t protected you enough and they’d got to you. I didn’t even think you’d want to come with me when I left."

He keeps his eyes shut. His head throbs and it’s not because of the bruise on his cheek. He feels like he’s been sliced open.

Regulus isn’t going to understand. He’s going to hate him more than he ever did.

If he didn’t think Sirius abandoned him before, he’s definitely going to think it now.

"Do you want another drink?" Regulus asks.

Not quite what he was expecting, but still, Sirius nods, handing the glass but keeping his eyes on his lap. He feels ashamed, deflated.

It was a bad idea coming here.

It won’t fix anything.

He won’t be able to justify his adolescent reasons to Regulus as to why his string of half-truths growing up has lead them here. Just like Regulus pretended to be like them, Sirius pretended to be normal in front of his friends.

A soft grunt sounds above him. He takes the filled glass from Regulus quickly.

"Thank you," he says, and proceeds to down half the glass in one go.

It burns on the way down and settles like boiling water in his stomach. Instantly, his limbs loosen with it and the ache in his chest eases slightly.

"I never hated you for getting out."

Sirius’ head snaps up so fast it spins.

"What?"

"I never hated you for saving yourself, Sirius," Regulus says slowly. "That house... it was toxic. It was killing you, and they would have killed you if you stayed. I was happy you were safe, I always have been. I hated you for not saying goodbye. I hated you for believing that I would be like them. I hated you for running away from me."

Sirius’ heart is beating so fast he can hear his blood roaring in his ears.

"I thought you were becoming like them," Sirius admits shakily. "I spent so long protecting you from them, and then you started to act like them and hate me and I… I felt so alone, Reg. I thought I’d lost you. When I saw my out I took it, and I didn’t even think you’d want to come. I thought you hated me."

Regulus frowns at him, grey eyes so large.

"You always said it was the two of us against the world, Sirius. I never expected you to take my punishments. It wasn't your job to protect me from the people who were supposed to love us. All I ever wanted was for you to love me like I loved you. But you left in the middle of the night. You pushed me away for months before that and then you were gone. I was alone with them and fuck, Sirius, if you thought they were angry before you should have seen them after you were gone."

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispers brokenly.

"It's not your fault," Regulus shakes his head, and Sirius almost wants to laugh at how wrong that is. "I’ve never blamed you. I've always been so proud you got out, I just... I hated you for not saying goodbye. I couldn't believe you could leave me behind believing that I was like them."

"You should blame me," Sirius argues. "I left you with them."

"You did," Regulus nods. "And don’t flatter yourself, Sirius. I do hate you for believing that I could be like them. I am angry you left me behind. I’m angry you didn’t take me with you, but before all of that I think I’m more angry you never tried to find me again."

"By the time I left I didn’t think I knew you anymore," Sirius admits. "You… you acted like everything I tried to protect you from."

"And you still believed that when you saw me in the pub?"

Sirius nods. "I did. My last memories of you weren’t good ones, Reg. I didn’t want you to hurt my friends, to hurt James."

"Why would I hurt James?" Regulus asks. "I knew him before I knew you were even here."

"Because he’s… you know."

"Black?"

Sirius winces but nods.

"Fuck sake," Regulus sighs.

"What?" Sirius glares. "You can’t blame me! Our parents are the biggest racist, homophobic, nasty bigots of the century!"

"You’re so fucking stupid."

"Excuse me?"

"Do you really believe I’m like that?" Regulus snarls. "Sirius, I am literally a homosexual. My boyfriend is a quarter Puerto Rican and black. My boss is half Puerto Rican and black. One of my closest friends is black, and most of my friends are gay or lesbian. My best friends partner is non-binary and her ex is transgender."

Well.

When he puts it like that.

"Okay," Sirius concedes weakly. Fair point."

"I'm a walking example of everything they hate. How can you look at me and think I'm anything like them? That I think the things they do?" Regulus snaps. "I wasn't like you, Sirius. I wasn't brave enough to stand up to them, to defy them. The only way for me to survive that house was to nod and agree, even if what they were saying was killing me on the inside. They wanted a clone, and I gave them one to avoid getting beaten black and blue everyday."

Sirius flinches at Regulus’ words, each one of them cutting deeper than anything his mother and father ever did.

"You were brave, Regulus," he says, and he makes sure to keep his voice strong and even.

Regulus needs to hear this.

He needs to hear it loud and clear.

"I wasn’t," Regulus scoffs, shaking his head and taking a generous gulp of margarita. "I was a coward. The only day I was brave was when I managed to walk out, I spent a lot of time before that being too weak to do anything about it."

"You still made it out."

"Only because I failed at option A."

"I'm glad you failed at option A, Reg," Sirius emphasises thickly. "I’m so fucking glad. If Kreacher hadn't found you..."

Regulus looks at him sadly, resigned. "It wouldn't have changed your life, Sirius. You would have never known. Not for a long time."

"That's not the point. That makes it worse. I'd find out years later that you... that you were dead by your own hands and..." He breaks off with a croak, shaking his head and clenching his eyes closed for a moment to push back the burning need to break down. "No, Reg. Don't you ever think it wouldn't have effected me. Don't you dare."

"I'm sorry."

"If you're apologising for attempting suicide, then don't."

"What? But—"

"It hurts to know you felt like the only way out was to kill yourself, but it's not something you have to apologise for. You were alone with them, Reg. You don't need to feel sorry for doing what you felt you needed to do to cope. If anything, it should be me apologising for putting you in that situation."

"You didn't put me in anything, Sirius," Regulus sighs, shaking his head. "It wasn't you that made me want to kill myself. It was them."

"You were alone. If I'd been there, you wouldn't have felt like it was the only option."

"Maybe," Regulus shrugs. "Or maybe even with you there I would have been fed up enough. Don't give yourself too much credit, Siri."

"This isn't a joke, Regulus."

"I know," Regulus says. "Sorry."

"No more apologising."

"I don't know. I've been quite enjoying you begging for forgiveness."

Sirius huffs and rolls his eyes, but he can't stop the tug at the corners of his lips.

Regulus drains the last of his glass, standing up and motioning for Sirius to finish his too.

"I love how two of the most homophobic cunts in the world managed to conceive two gay sons," Sirius muses as Regulus makes them more drinks. "Karma at it’s finest."

From the kitchen, Regulus scoffs and says, "Mother would have a stroke."

"The world would be a better place if she did," Sirius grumbles.

Getting up, Sirius goes over to the kitchen and stands on the other side of the bar. He drops the bag of veg from against his cheek, cautiously prodding the tender area.

"How’s my face?"

Regulus glances over his shoulder. "Horrendous."

Sirius rolls his eyes. "I meant the cheek. Is it bruising?"

"Of course it is, I punched it."

"You’re a prick."

"You’re insufferable."

"I’m wounded," Sirius grumbles, putting the cold bag back on his cheek. "How did you do it, by the way?"

"Do what?"

"Get away from them?"

Regulus sighs. A moment later, he turns around and says, "I told them I wanted to go to study law in Edinburgh. They let me, I applied, got in, got the plane over. I spent two weeks on the course then packed up my stuff, got in contact with the university in London. They let me apply late, so I handed my leaving letter into Edinburgh uni, drew all my money out of the bank, changed my name to Regulus and got on a train to London on the same day."

"Fucking hell," Sirius breathes.

"I sent them a letter. Basically saying I was out and I never want to see them again. Then when I got to London the university put me in halls with a few others on the course, and I just got on with it."

"Fucking hell, Reg!" Sirius cheers.

Regulus shrugs, "It was the only way. I couldn’t exactly run away in France. I had to find a way to get back here. London might not have been the smartest choice, but I wanted to work at the hospitals here, so I took the risk. Last they heard I was in Edinburgh, and they haven’t come here looking for me, so I assume I’m safe."

"They never looked for you?"

"They might’ve," Regulus shrugs again. "If they did, they didn’t do very well because I haven’t heard whiff of them since being here, and I’ve been here for five years now."

"Well, it took me five years to bump into you," Sirius says.

"You’ve only been back for a while," Regulus argues.

Sirius frowns. "How do you know that?"

"James," Regulus replies as he shakes the drinks in the tumbler. "The two of you only moved here from Yorkshire in the summer. You’ve been gone up there almost the entire time I’ve been back here."

Sirius is quiet while it sinks in. James has spoken about him. Of course he has, James and Regulus have been seeing each other for months. It’s no surprise that James has told Regulus about his life.

If James spoke so much about it, how did Regulus never know it was Sirius?

"How did you never know it was me living with James?" He asks. "If he’s mentioned me, how did you never realise?"

"He never calls you Sirius," Regulus explains, pouring the cocktail into their two glasses. "He always called you and your friends by those stupid nicknames. If he’d called you by your actual name, I would have been running the moment I heard it."

"Really?"

"Of course," Regulus nods instantly. "Why would I want to shag the guy who took you from me?"

"Do you believe that?"

Regulus sighs as he turns around and slides Sirius' drink to him across the island counter.

"I did. Until he explained that you never mentioned me. I figured it was kind of hard to hate someone who never knew I existed. After all, what happened between us was because of you."

Sirius' eyes narrow over the rim of his glass as he pauses in the sip he was taking. "Because of us."

Regulus’ gaze snaps towards him. "I didn’t keep you a secret."

"No, but you did turn into a massive cunt."

Regulus' previously relaxed expression turns cold.

"You walked away, Sirius," Regulus seethes, eyes narrowing into slits. "You're the one who left. You got a taste of a better life with your friends and decided to leave me with our parents. Us not talking for nine years? That is on you."

"I wouldn't have had to walk away if you hadn't mentally checked out for years before!" Sirius shouts. "I didn't abandon you, Reg! You changed! You hated me! Even if you 'pretended', you still acted like it. It doesn't matter if what you said was a fucking act or not! You still said all those things, you still did things that hurt me!"

"Oh, I am so sorry I hurt your fucking feelings!

"What about every hit I took for you! I protected you, you ungrateful bitch!"

"I didn't ask you to that!"

"I still did it, because I fucking loved you! I wanted to protect you, because you were my baby brother and you didn’t deserve those punishments!"

"And what about after you left? Or even before, when you were too busy with your friends?" Regulus asks, snarling. "Did I deserve it then?"

"I didn’t think they were hurting you by then!" Sirius shouts back. "They loved you!"

"They were abusive!" Regulus screams. The scream is so loud that Sirius takes a step back. "They didn’t stop being abusive over night, Sirius! They never fucking loved us! Parents who love their children don’t fucking hit them!"

"I know—"

"Then why did you ever think they would love me?" Regulus interrupts loudly. "What, because I nodded at dinner and didn’t chat back, meant they wouldn’t hit me anymore? Would finally fucking love me? Parents like them don’t know the meaning of the word love, you dumb prick! Nothing was ever good enough for them. I just had to fake it enough so dad didn’t fucking break my neck!"

"I know," Sirius chokes, chest heaving. The shouting match has him out of breath, energy spent.

"If you knew that, then how can you stand there and say the shit between is us isn’t all from you walking out?" Regulus asks. Suddenly, his younger brothers shoulders slump. He leans heavily against the worktop and cabinets behind him.

"I asked you once, before I left, what happened to you," Sirius says. "I asked you why you were repeating and agreeing with them. I asked you why you changed. Do you remember what you said back to me? You told me that nothing has happened, that you’ve learnt what’s right and what’s wrong, and that the only thing in Grimmauld Place that was wrong, was me."

"I was angry," Regulus snaps, the coldness of his tone not matching the defeat in his expression. "For years you had been leaving me behind, Sirius. You might not have noticed it, but I did. The moment you went to that fucking school I lost you. By the time you finally fucking asked me when I was 15, what the hell had happened, I was too angry to try and justify it to you."

"If you’d just said—"

"What was the point?" Regulus rolls his eyes. "By the time you asked you’d already made up your mind that I was a lost cause. You wouldn’t look at me twice, and I did the same to you. We weren’t brothers by that point anymore. You might have still slept in that house sometimes, but in every other way, you’d already left me behind."

"I was still your big brother,"

"You weren’t," Regulus denies. "Remember? The last day you were there, you told me I wasn’t your brother anymore. You had a 'new' brother."

Sirius barely refrains from gasping. He’d forgotten that, but now, the memory comes flooding back.

He remembers standing at the top of the stairs. He’d just had a infamous fight with his father over something he can’t remember. He remembers his reaction though, still bruised and battered from where his mother beaten him with a fire poker a few days before, his father had taken to him with his cane. Sirius had barely had it in him to limp up the stairs when he’d met Regulus outside their bedrooms. He remembers being so angry, so furious with the world and everyone in it. Regulus had taken one look at him, and Sirius had snapped.

"I didn’t mean it," Sirius tries, but it’s futile. They both know, in that moment, that he did.

Regulus shakes his head. "You did, Sirius. You always did."

"I was just angry."

"Angry or not, like you said, words hurt," Regulus replies, shrugging flippantly before downing almost the entire contents of his glass.

"It was James, wasn’t it?" Regulus asks, and when he sees Sirius’ curious expression, he adds, "The 'new' brother."

Sirius barely refrains from wincing.

"Yes," he admits quietly.

Regulus nods. "Okay then."

"He was there for me—"

"I’m sure he was," Regulus cuts him off. "He seems like the type."

"Don’t hate him," Sirius begs. "None of this is his fault."

"Save your breath, Sirius," he snaps. "Nobody but you knew. Euphemia, Monty, James, Remus. None of them knew except for you. You were my only ticket out of that house and you didn’t even think about it."

"I did," Sirius denies. "I did, Reg. I always did. By the time the opportunity came, you weren’t someone who I thought would come."

"So you’ve said," Regulus mutters.

Sirius swallows thickly, downing the remainder of his margarita before sliding the glass back to Regulus.

"Another one?"

Wordlessly, Regulus refills both of their glasses. The air feels lighter yet heavier since the screaming match. It’s what they both needed, but the weight of their words rest heavy on them both.

"I’m glad you found him."

"Who?"

"James," "Even if it was years after you got yourself out of there, I’m glad he’s someone you’ve allowed into your life."

"Why?"

"Because he’s good," Sirius says softly. "He’s so fucking good, Reg. He’s got a heart of fucking gold like no other."

"I know," Regulus murmurs.

"Do you love him?"

Regulus rolls his eyes. "Don’t be disgusting."

"Hey! That’s my best friend you’re talking about!"

"Your best friend that chose me?"

Sirius squarks loudly. "He did not!"

"Well, he certainly didn’t let me walk away," Regulus smirks. "He told me that right after he realigned my spine the other week."

"Wh—stop!" Sirius screams, gagging. "Don’t! I don’t want to hear that!"

"What?" Regulus asks smugly. "You sure you don’t want to hear about—"

"Stop it!" Sirius cries.

Regulus smirks at Sirius’ sufferings.

Sirius doesn’t remember passing out.

When he wakes up, his face and head is throbbing relentlessly with the combination of a killer hangover and the residue wound of Regulus’ fist.

He’s face down on the sofa, sprawled out, a blanket half falling off. It takes him a moment to remember where he is, and when he does, he can’t tell if the sick feeling in his stomach is from the memory of last night or the alcohol poisoning his stomach lining.

Groaning, he rubs his face, wincing when he accidentally rubs the tender bruise on his cheek.

He sits up cautiously, willing his stomach to stop flipping. The lounge and kitchen are empty, and it’s only the sound of running water that confirms Sirius isn’t alone in the flat. He contemplates making himself a coffee, but isn’t sure how Regulus would feel about him poking around in his kitchen.

Sirius picks up his phone off the floor.

He has a couple of missed texts from Remus and a couple from James.

Moony (15:39) how’s it going? xx

Moony (16:14) prongs just text to say you’ve gone to reg’s apartment. everything okay?

Moony (19:12) everything alright? prongs says you’re still not home yet. did you find regulus?

Prongs (16:03) did you find his apartment? is he okay?

Prongs (18:29) everything okay??? what's happened pads???

Prongs (22:57) reg just text to say you’re passed out in his lounge so I’m assuming you’re staying over. thanks for the update prick!!!

Sirius winces. He probably should have updated James after frantically crying down the phone about finding Regulus incase he killed himself. Not the best time to then go M.I.A.

He texts back James first.

Sirius (09:44) morning prongs. sorry for not texting. all good here, I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home

Then, he replies to Remus.

Sirius (09:46) sorry for not replying baby. I stayed at reg’s last night - long story, I’ll tell you about it later. I’m okay though xx

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. He doesn’t remember the end of last night. He remembers after the screaming match, the two of them sat down again. Sirius spoke about his tattooing and university in Yorkshire. Regulus was surprisingly mute about his life, allowing Sirius to fill the silence.

The time spent chatting between the fight and when Sirius evidently crashed is blurry with endless margaritas.

Sirius almost gags at the mental memory of the smell.

He doesn’t think he could look at a margarita without throwing up right now.

The sound of a door opening has Sirius looking up. He barely catches the tail end of someone, Regulus he assumes (hopes) going into the end room wrapped in a towel, the door shutting promptly behind them.

Glancing at the kitchen, Sirius figures coffee is off the table, but a glass of water surely can’t be sniffed at. He gets up, groaning at the aching muscles in his legs and back from sleeping on a tiny sofa. His jeans are twisted and uncomfortable, and he feels disgustingly like he did back in his university days when they’d drink themselves silly and pass out, fully dressed in random places.

He finds the glasses easily enough, filling it to the top with water and guzzling the whole thing in four huge mouthfuls.

Sirius is half way through his second glass when Regulus steps into the kitchen. Freshly showered, hair still wet, and dressed in a pair of checkered pyjama bottoms and a black hoodie, Regulus looks as put together and opposite as Sirius feels.

"Morning," Sirius says.

"Morning," Regulus echoes, flicking on the coffee machine and then opening a floor cupboard to pull out a box of cat food.

Sirius frowns as Regulus fills up a small bowl on the floor. "Do you have a cat?"

"Yes. Sylvester."

Just as he says it, a small black cat comes scurrying out of the room at the end of the hall and beelines into the kitchen to his bowl.

Sirius stares at the animal, dumbfounded. "Did you have a cat yesterday?"

"Yes, he was asleep in my room," Regulus replies as he moves around the kitchen making a coffee.

"I can’t believe you’re a cat person," Sirius muses, then adds, "Wait, yes I can, actually."

"He’s better than most people I know," Regulus mutters.

Sirius nods in agreement - he can't argue with that statement.

"Did you text James to tell him I was staying over last night?"

"Yes," Regulus replies. "You passed out about ten, and he called me about ten-thirty to say he hadn't heard from you since you phoned to get my address so I did a curtious good deed and told him you were staying here."

"He told you I asked for your address?" Sirius asks, now realising that Regulus didn't question it yesterday. He didn't even seem remotely surprised that Sirius had turned up...

Regulus nods. "He phoned me before you turned up. Said he wanted to let me know you were on your way and that he was sorry he gave my address to you. I appreciated the warning."

"Oh," Sirius murmurs. He actually isn't surprised.

He looks at Regulus then, eyes now on his phone in his hand. There's a certain type of tension between them that wasn't there last night.

"Are we good?"

"Good?" Regulus echoes.

"Yeah, like… are we okay?"

"That remains to be seen," Regulus replies as he stirs his coffee.

Sirius feels his face fall. "But…—"

"It still sucks, Sirius," Regulus sighs. "Your reasons are fine, I get them, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. I don’t think I’m ready to let it go quite yet."

"Right," Sirius nods. "Of course."

"Are you hungover?"

"I’m feeling a bit fragile, yes."

"Good," Regulus nods. "Get out. I have studying to do and you’re in my way."

"Studying?" Sirius frowns. "I thought you were qualified?"

"I am," Regulus replies, not looking up from his phone. "I’m training to be neuro surgeon."

"What?" Sirius blanches. "You’re only 23!"

"Congratulations, you can count."

Sirius ignores the sarcastic jab. "How… aren’t you too young?"

"It’s a internal programme in the hospital," Regulus explains. "I’m studying alongside working."

"Wow," Sirius breaths, "that’s…"

"I know. I’m brilliant," Regulus says, locking his phone and looking at Sirius. "Now, get out."

"Going, going," Sirius holds his hands up in mock surrender. "Are you not hungover?"

"No. I’m not pathetic like you."

"Ouch," Sirius winces. "Can I use your shower before you go?"

"Nope. Out."

"Prick."

"Cunt."

Sirius gets a taxi home. The fresh air doesn’t ease the hangover and he decides that standing in a overheated, overcrowded tube station is not what he needs right now.

The taxi charges him with daylight robbery but he doesn’t complain.

When he gets in, James is sitting on the sofa, flicking through the Netflix home screen. He looks at the door the second Sirius steps inside.

"Hey, how’d— what the fuck?" James shrieks loudly, eyes widening. "What happened to your face?"

Sirius completely forgot about the shiner on his cheek. "I asked Regulus to punched me, and he did."

"What?!" James shouts.

Sirius laughs slightly as he goes into the kitchen to grab a can from the fridge. "It’s okay, honestly, Prongs. I’m glad he did."

"You’re… you’re glad he punched you?"

"Yes. He needed to do it," Sirius replies, nodding. He sits down beside his friend on the sofa. "Though honestly, I wasn’t expecting him to have such a good swing. The fucker almost knocked me on my arse with one hit."

"Fuck sake," James sighs, shaking his head. He eyes the side of Sirius’ face that is bruised and red. "What happened after? You’ve been gone all night, I assumed…"

"We got drunk."

"You got drunk?"

"What are you, a fucking owl?" Sirius asks, frowning. "You going to repeat everything I say today?"

"I’m just trying to process what the fuck happened. Excuse me for being a bit surprised that you’ve come home with a shiner because Regulus punched you, with permission, and then you proceeded to both get drunk and have a sleepover," James says. "Honestly, not my expectations for yesterday."

"No, me neither," Sirius muses, "but I’m glad it happened."

James is quiet for a moment. He stares at Sirius, eyes flicking over his face, settling a few seconds longer on the bruise every time. 

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"I don’t know," Sirius replies honestly, slumping down on the sofa. "I feel better, but I feel worse. Did you know he never blamed me for running away?"

James doesn’t reply, but Sirius doesn’t need him too.

"I left him there. I left him with them, and it got so bad he tried to kill himself, and he has never blamed me," Sirius continues hoarsely. "The only thing he was ever angry about was that I never said goodbye to him. How bad is that?"

"It’s pretty heartbreaking, yeah," James murmurs.

"He should be more angry than he is," Sirius says. "He should hate me. He should want to kill me, yet all he ever wanted was a little silly goodbye."

"He loved you," James argues. "He loves you. I don’t think he ever stopped."

"I hurt him worse than they ever did, Prongs," Sirius confesses, feeling his eyes water. He’s so sick of crying, but thinking about Regulus again, he can’t seem to stop. "After everything I did to protect him, it was me that hurt him the most."

James shakes his head. "You can’t blame yourself for saving yourself, Pads."

"No, but I am to blame for not taking him with me."

"Maybe, but you were only a kid," James says, and Sirius scoffs.

"It doesn’t matter," he replies bitterly. "My escape was pointless if all it rewarded me was Regulus killing himself."

"But he didn’t," James says, voice stern. It sounds like he’s trying to comfort Sirius and himself at the same time. "He’s still here."

"He almost wasn’t."

"Doesn’t matter. He is, he’s here and he’s away from them. That’s all that matters now. You’re both safe."

"I can’t believe how wrong I was," Sirius whispers, throat thick and chest aching.

"You had to think what you needed to believe to survive, Pads," James placates. "It might have been wrong, but you were hurting too."

"All these years I’ve believed he was a monster, that he was just like them, but he was pretending, Prongs," Sirius shakes his head. "He was pretending the whole time to protect us, and I didn’t see through it. I thought… I believed he could be like that. I hated him for it. I hated him so much and he wasn’t like that at all."

"You both had to do different things to survive," James says. "Perhaps if things had been different, you would have been able to spot the signs that he wasn’t changing, he was just trying to survive like you were."

"I don’t know how to fix this, Prongs," Sirius admits. "We might have hashed it out, but he’s still angry. He’s more angry now than he was before he saw me. He couldn’t believe I thought he was like them."

"It can only go up from here, Pads," James smiles sadly. "You’ve both made the first step. It’s years of miscommunication you’ve both got to work through. It’ll take time, you just have to be patient."

Sirius scoffs. "Not exactly my strongest suit."

"Well, I’m not letting him go anywhere," James smirks. "So you’re going to have to suck it up."

"Fuck sake."

"What?"

"You’re shagging my baby brother."

"You can’t even be mad," James grins. "You hated him 24 hours ago. You can’t use the big brother act on me."

"You’re a brother fucker."

"Hell yeah I am."

"Disgusting."

"He’s lovely."

"Do I get to threaten to kill you if you hurt him yet?"

"No," James shakes his head. "You haven’t earned that right yet."

"How long till I do?"

"That remains to be seen."

"Fuck me," Sirius grumbles.

"No thanks," James grimaces as he stands up, "I prefer your brother."

When Sirius throws the pillow, it hits James square in the face.

— tbc.