Pain.
Something that most people associate with death. Sirius most certainly did, at least until he died himself. He hadn't realized at first, that he was - in fact- dead. One moment he had been fighting his cousin, Bellatrix, and the next he was in a bright white space, with no beginning and no end.
Sirius was a Gryffindor.
It was something he prided himself on. Not that his family could say the same. Griffindores stood for bravery and loyalty. And, well, Sirius was a Gryffindor. So that left him with one option. To not be afraid.
And Sirius Orion Black was certainly not afraid.
Because it was not an option.
There he was at 11 years old, not even blinking when he received his first howler from his angry mother. All that fuss for having to wear a red tie instead of a green one. Of course, Sirius knew there was more to it than that, but it made it easier to think that it meant nothing more. Then he's 15, writhing in pain on the floor of the Nobel and Most Ancient House of Black, refusing to take the Dark Mark. His crazy cousin laughed as his mother and father took turns hitting him with the Cruciatus Curse. He did not cry, he did not yield. He stared his family down with spite, hatred and pure adrenaline as he left for the last time. So even when facing death, looking down the length of his wand, facing his mental cousin who had tormented and tortured him since he was a young boy, Sirius was not scared. He couldn't be, and yet. . .
And yet.
Even though Sirius Orion Black was never afraid, fear was not a new feeling to him. Quite the contrary. He had grown quite costumed to it over the years. It was an aching feeling that always sat in the back of his mind. His old, battered, broken mind. Sirius might even go as far as to call it an old friend of his.
Because Sirius never feared for himself, but he always feared for others. He feared for Remus, James, Lily, Harry. . .
Oh, Harry.
That poor, poor boy.
Why, Sirius asked himself on more than one occasion, why must Harry have to bear the evil this world has to offer?
It wasn't fair.
But then again, nothing in their world ever was.
Even so . . . why did it have to be Harry?
The boy Sirius was supposed to love and protect. The boy who had endless love to give and seemingly endless bad luck. The boy who lived, sure; that was how the rest of the world saw him. But Sirius knew him as the boy with Lily Evans eyes and James Potter smirk. The curiosity of Sirius and the sarcasm of Remus.
And then there was Remus.
Oh, my darling Remus. I'm so sorry, Sirius wanted to tell him. I didn't want to leave you, not again, not ever.
But now he's left him alone. Again. All he can hope is that Moony - his Moony -will be able to move on. Remember him with fondness and tell the stories of when the Marauders were still the Marauders.
But Sirius knows Remus. Has known Remus from the time they were 11 years old. Sirius knows that Remus will blame himself. Run the moment Sirius passed from the mortal realm into the spirit realm through that amazing mind of his thousands of times, picking apart every second. Thinking desperately about everything he could have done to save Sirius.
And it breaks Sirius knowing that he can not take that pain away. It crushes him even more to know that he's the one who put it there.
Sirius blinks, trying to free his mind of the memories he would rather forget. He scans his surroundings. There's nothing but endless white around him. It's unnatural, unsettling. It's nothing like what Sirius thought the afterlife would look like. However, it wasn't something he gave much thought to.
"You're here."
Sirius spins around, reaching for a wand that is no longer there. In front of him, only a few feet away, stands a tall figure with dark, loose curls that fall around a pale face with grey, sorrowful eyes. His feet are wet. His lips are pursed and slightly blue. His hair looks damp and his shirt sticks to him, cold and wet. It takes a moment for Sirius to realize he's waiting. Waiting to see what Sirius will say, think, and do. He always did. Something like an invisible string pulls into his stomach.
"Regulus." His voice is cold and bitter, but also slightly breathless. Sirius stared at him, suspended in a state of disbelief. They stay frozen, neither daring to move, afraid of what the other might do. It's silly considering that they're both dead.
"I've been waiting for you," Regulus says after some time, his voice devoid of any real emotion. Just like that, the spell is broken and anger fills Sirius up like a basin. What does he think he's doing? Why is he here? He should be somewhere else, where the rest of the Death Eaters belong. Anywherebuthere.
"What are you doing here?" Sirius practically spits, not trying to cover the anger and resentment in his voice in the slightest. He and Regulus were never very kind as children, a trait that had grown as Sirius had. Bad habits die hard, Sirius thinks faintly.
The younger boy rolls his eyes. "I'm dead, Sirius. This is the afterlife." He doesn't say 'duh' but it's heavily implied.
Now it's Sirius' turn to roll his eyes. "Yes, I know that." He grits his teeth. "What do you want? Why are you talking to me?"
Regulus's neutral expression flickers for a moment, too quickly for Sirius to catch it. "You're my brother," he says as though it was blatantly obvious. Sirius snorted in disbleif. He couldn't possibly be serious.
You are not my brother. You haven't been since I was 15." Longer, would be more accurate. The moment Regulus was sorted into Slytherin, Sirius had lost him. Regulus stood silently, not reacting to Sirius' words. Annoyance laced Sirius' words as he continued. "And that's not an answer. What. Do. You. Want?" His words were short; clipped.
The boy in front of him tilts his head, studying Sirius with that critical eye of his. He looks like he's arguing with himself. That was the thing about Regulus, he never said what he was thinking. Instead, he censored himself at every turn, careful with his words as though they would one day run out. It was the opposite of Sirius, who was never stingy in his words and was known for his lack of a filter.
"You're here," Regulus says quietly. His eyes are sad, his lips tugging down at the corners. Sirius' eyebrows furrow. It was bizarre to see an emotion other than apathy on his younger brother's face.
"Yes, we've already established this," Sirius says growing impatient. He wants to find James and Lily, he hasn't seen them in over a decade. And yet the only person in sight is his traitorous brother. Lovely.
"I-" Regulus starts, then stops. His eyebrows furrow a little, he takes a breath. "I thought. . . hoped," Regulus says carefully, "that you would have longer. With him." He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "With Harry."
Something hot sparks inside Sirius at the mention of his godson. "You have no right to talk of him. You couldn't care less about him." He stalks towards Regulus, his hands clenched in fists. His brother takes a step back. Good, Sirius thinks, let him be scared for once. After all that time I spent protecting him, let him feel afraid.
"You want him dead," Sirius tells him, his voice dripping with poison. He resists a shutter imagining Harry in the endless white of this realm.
"I don't want him dead," Regulus says with a haughty sigh.
"Bullshit!"
Regulus clenches his jaw. He's close now, and if he wanted Sirius could lunge at him. He pauses, glaring at Regulus with such force it's a miracle he didn't burn up on the spot. It's now that he sees that Regulus is a little taller than him, and it momentarily snaps him out of his rage. When did that happen? Sirius thinks.
"I don't want him dead," Regulus repeats, quieter this time. He won't meet Sirius' gaze, and he seems a bit defeated. "I don't want him to succumb to the same fate as I did."
Sirius blinks, confused and pissed off. What the fuck does that even mean? How could anything pertaining to Regulus - the dark lord's pet - have anything to do with Harry's fate? Regulus had died years before Harry had even been born, and as far as Sirius and the rest of the order were aware, Regulus really hadn't done much. Furthermore, Harry is good, and warm and shines like the sun. Regulus would curse anyone who even attempted to say the same about him. Harry couldn't possibly be at risk of meeting Regulus' fate.
"What are you talking about?" Sirius eyes his brother. "What fate?" Regulus finally meets his gaze, eyes so icy they burn. A self-deprecating smirk pulls at his lips and something in Sirius' stomach sours.
"A fate in which he tries and fails to destroy the Horcruxes."
"Hor- what are you on about?" The words tumble out before Sirius can stop them. Regulus has always been a bit of a cryptic bastard who liked to talk in metaphors, but this is a bit much. Regulus shakes his head, little drops of water fall off of his curls, dismissing the question. The movement draws Sirius' attention, and it strikes him how odd it is that Regulus is just so... wet. Regulus looks like he's been plunged into a body of water, with his shiny skin and clammy hands. A hint of worry tugs in his chest. Sirius tries to shove it aside, but he can't. "Why do you look. . . wet?"
Regulus' eyes darken, his face returning to its guarded, neutral expression. It's always unsettled Sirius how Regulus could just . . . turn off his emotions. Even as a child, Regulus walked around with an air of indifference, rarely sporting an expression that consisted of anything but apathy.
"It doesn't matter."
But now Sirius is curious. He never was told how his baby brother died. They never found his body. He had told himself at the time he didn't care, that none of that mattered. He died as one of Voldemort's followers, that was what it all came down to, in the end. But part of Sirius had always wanted to know what had happened to his little brother. His Reggie. He had accepted that he would never know, and managed to convince himself it was better not to think about it, no matter how much it ate away at him. Something about Regulus's eyes isn't right. They look mournful, distant. It's as if he's reliving a memory, something that left him empty and broken. Sirius' stomach twists into knots.
"Regulus," Sirius says softly, taking a few careful steps towards him, "what happened?" They're very close now, half an arm's length away. Regulus doesn't step back, but he doesn't close the gap either. Then again, neither does Sirius.
Regulus sighs, looking to the side, almost resigned to the conversation. "I realized I had made a mistake." Sirius waits for him to continue, to elaborate. After being with Harry, Sirius had learned how to be patient. It was something that never came easily to Sirius, but for Harry, he learned. "I was wrong. To join Him." Sirius has to resist the urge to yell 'fucking obviously!'. "I don't think I wanted to in the first place. But..." He trails off, his eyes distant. Then he focuses on Sirius and clears his throat. "I was scared."
Oh.
He was scared.
Sirius barks a laugh, loud and bitter. There is no warmth in his voice, no empathy for the boy in front of him.
"Regulus Black, you are and always have been a coward," Sirius snarls. Regulus flinches at the word but doesn't object. "I protected you. I took the brunt of everything for you growing up." Sirius leans in closer. "Every god-damn time." Disgust swirls up inside of him looking at his brother.
"Sirius," Regulus tries, but Sirius won't have it.
"No!" He cries, "My fucking turn to talk!" Something long since buried unravels within him. "What could you have possibly been afraid of? The monsters hiding under your bed? The ones you told me about when you'd sneak into my bed at night?" Every time he had taken the blame, every time he had covered for Regulus growing up flashes through his mind. "I faced Walburg's wrath," Sirius spat, "not you."
"Well, clearly you didn't protect me as well as you think you did," Regulus says flatly.
Sirius rears back, sucking in a harsh breath. He had done everything to protect Regulus. Everything. Sirius committed his entirechildhood, to making sure Reggie was okay. How could that not be enough? How could everything still not be enough? Sirius thinks of that horrible night in the library.
"No," he had told his mother. "I'm not going to support that monster!"
Walburga's lip pulls into a hideous snarl, her gaze so piercing it could impale even the strongest of men. With a flick of her wand, Sirius was sprawled on the floor, screams of pure, unbridled agony tearing through him.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
Regulus stood in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide.
It hurts it hurts it hurts.
His thoughts grew more desperate with every passing second, something crazed and wild bubbled up inside of him. The agony subsided for a moment as Walburga stepped back, watching Sirius with distaste and he pulled himself onto his hands and knees, dry heaving.
"Now," she said primly, "let's try that again. Do you accept the dark mark?"
Sirius looked at her with all the hatred and defiance he could muster.
"No."
"It's clear that you aren't thinking clearly. Let's fix that."
And the pain started again. A strangled sob broke from his throat. Sirius shut his eyes tight, the burning behind his eyelids betraying him. He would not cry. No way. There was no way of knowing how long it went on, but it felt like an eternity. The pain was all-consuming, like fire dancing on his bones.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
Every so often, the pain would subside, and his mother would pose the question again. His answer never wavered. One blow blended into the next, and all sense of time was lost.
Finally, his mother stepped back. Sirius was on the floor, his breath laboured. He looked at Regulus, still in the doorway. Please, he thought. Please, Regulus, help me. Regulus didn't move. Didn't look away either. He stood there like a statue, watching with terror as their mother and father took turns firing the unforgivable curse at Sirius's battered, broken body.
Sirius had left that night. Sirius had lost one brother that night and gained a new one. A better one, he decided. It was what he had told himself to keep moving forward. And he hadn't stopped. Hadn't looked back once. The hole that Regulus had left was unmistakable, but Sirius ignored it. If he acknowledged it, he would break down and never get up again.
"At least I tried," Sirius yells, the anger turning into devastation. "You never tried Regulus. Not once!"
Regulus looks at him, eyes like steel. His guarded expression faltered, and he swallowed thickly. "I didn't have a choice, Sirius! I'm not you, I couldn't just leave."
"Yes, you could have," Sirius replied.
Regulus laughs, it's a cold, humourless sound. "Do you honestly think they would have let you leave if I wasn't there?"
Sirius freezes, something cold filling his chest. "What are you talking about?"
Regulus rolls his eyes like it's obvious. "They had a spare, Sirius," Regulus says, voice breaking. He's unravelling, Sirius thinks. "They had me. You got to leave because I had to stay. That was the price we had to pay. You're freedom for my imprisonment."
Sirius had thought about breaking Regulus out of Grimmauld Place many times. In the end, he always decided that Regulus had made his choice, and Sirius had made his. But now. . .
"I had to leave," Sirius says quietly, looking down. "They would have killed me if I stayed."
Regulus is quiet for a moment. He sounds much closer when he speaks again. "I know."
Sirius looks up. Regulus had taken those few steps closer. His mask had fallen, leaving his eyes melancholy and watery. "I know," He repeats, stronger this time, but no less strained. "I know you had to leave. I know you had to leave me."
Sirius takes a shaky breath, closing his eyes. Oh, how he had waited to hear those words.
I know you had to leave. I know you had to leave me.
Sirius can't remember the last time he had seen Regulus look so young. So small. And then he remembered how young he truly was. Reg was only 18. Sirius had felt so grown up, back then. He hadn't thought about how truly short his little brother's life had been. How he never got to live. Reg was 16 when he took the mark. And now Sirius realized how impossibly young he had been.
Sirius never did find out what had happened.
"Regulus," Sirius says gently, taking his brother's face in his hands. Regulus looks up. Sirius's stomach does a flip. He'd never seen Regulus look so tired. So subdued and sad. "What happened to you?"
Regulus's eyes squeeze shut. "I tried," his voice just above a whisper. "I tried to fix what I had done. I tried to leave. I tried so hard." A single shimmering tear fell down his cheek, and Sirius brushed it away with his thumb.
"Oh Reggie," he whispered, pulling him into his chest. The instinct to protect came back with full force. Regulus holds onto him, and Sirius realizes how cold he is. He gently lowers them to the ground, pulling Regulus as close to his chest as he can. Sirius runs his hands through his damp curls as Regulus buries his head into his shoulder.
"I found out what Voldemort's secret was," Regulus says his voice muffled by Sirius' shoulder. He pulls away so he can look at Sirius. "There's this thing called a Horcrux. It allows you to split your soul in half and keep it in an object of some sort. It's the key to immortality."
"Okay," Sirius says not sure what else to say.
"I found out where he hid it. Or one of them. I had a plan. To destroy it." Regulus takes a shaky breath. "It was hidden in this cave surrounded by water. Voldemort. . . used inferi to protect the locket. I couldn't escape. They pulled me under."
Inferi. Sirius vaguely remembers Moony telling him about them once in school. He said they were kind of like zombies. At the time Sirius had thought they were cool, but now. . . well. Things change.
"I gave Kreacher the Horcrux. I told him to destroy it."
"Why didn't you leave?" Sirius' mind flashes with images of Regulus being pulled into the water, the impending doom of knowing what was about to happen hanging over his head. Regulus huffed a humourless laugh.
"Wizards can't apparate out of the cave," he explained, "but house elves, on the other hand. . ."
"So you told Kreacher to leave you? Alone?"
"I wasn't alone, not really." There's a small smile on his lips.
"What, you mean the inferi?" Sirius shutters. "I know that our standards for good company are low given who are family is, but the inferi? You can do better than that, Reg."
Regulus laughs quietly, a sound Sirius hadn't realized how much he missed the sound. "You'd be surprised. Shockingly polite creatures."
"Actually?" Sirius stares at him.
"No, not actually." Regulus smirks. "I was talking about..." he trails off. "Never mind."
"No, go on," Sirius urged.
"It's stupid," Regulus said, his voice boyish and juvenile.
Sirius smiled. "Well, now you have to tell me." Regulus closed his eyes, groaning in embarrassment.
"My Patronus. I cast my Patronus so I wouldn't be alone"
"Oh," Sirius whispers, his heart breaking. "That's not stupid Reg."
"Mhm, sure."
"So. . . that's it?"
Regulus sighs. "Well, I made a decoy to replace the original Horcrux, even left a letter in it." He pauses, his expression turning solemn. "I knew that no one would know what I did, and, I don't know. I wanted someone to know that at some point, Regulus Black did the right thing. Or at the very least tried to."
"That's... fuck, that's brave, Reg," he says gently. Regulus only shook his head.
"No, I was terrified the entire time." He frowns, a line forming between his eyebrows. Sirius resists the urge to rub it away with his thumb the way he used to when they were children. To pull his brother into him and fight everything and everyone who had hurt him. "When I realized that I wasn't going to make it out, I told myself 'You're doing this, so Sirius never has to'."
Now Sirius does pull him back into a hug. His little brother, the one he had spent 21 years thinking he had lost to the Nobel and Most Ancient House of Black, had been good. Better than good.
"You're a hero, Reg."
Regulus snorts. "I'm no hero, Sirius. That title belongs to James Potter and Sirius Black. Not me." He shakes his head, smiling. "I don't need to be a hero. I wasn't born to be, not like you. It's enough knowing that maybe, for once I wasn't a villain."
Sirius's heart squeezes. "You were never a villain, Reg. You're good. You're so, so good."
"Alright, alright," Regulus laughs, trying to pull away.
"Merlin," Sirius breathes when Regulus pulls away from him.
Regulus freezes, looking at Sirius. "What," he asks. Sirius just stares, a little breathless. "Sirius. What is it?"
Sirius shakes his head a little, making sure he isn't imagining it. "Reg," he says, "you're dry."
"What," Regulus says dumbly. He looks down at his clothes, which are no longer sticking to him. He runs a hand through his hair which is now dry and silky. His pale, clammy skin has returned to the smooth, soft texture that Sirius remembers so vividly. His lips and cheeks are now pink, and his skin is no longer the icy cold it used to be. A laugh bubbles out of him, making him look more alive than ever.
"I'm dry! I'm really, truly dry! Fuck you have no idea how miserable it was being soaked to the bone for two decades." Sirius shakes his head in disbelief.
"Why do you think you were wet in the first place?"
Regulus looks at him, eyes shining. "I think it had something to do with having unfinished business or turmoil in the mortal world. But now. . ." He smiles - a soft, shy thing. "Now, I think it's been resolved." Regulus gives him a weighted look.
"Me? I was your unfinished business?" Could Sirius truly have been the turmoil Regulus had left behind once he had died?
"Yeah," Reg says, "it was you." Standing up, Regulus pulls Sirius to his feet. Regulus' eyes focus on something behind Sirius' shoulder. A smile breaks out across his face and Sirius' heart soars. "I think some others are waiting to see you."
Sirius looks at him confused, then he hears a sharp breath from behind him. Slowly - oh so slowly - Sirius turns around, his heart pounding in his chest. How exactly that's possible, Sirius has no idea, but that doesn't matter. Nothing matters once his eyes land on James Potter. He's smiling brightly, and his black hair is just as unruly as ever. Time slows, and something dark and haunted in Sirius falls away.
"Took you fucking long enough," James says with a twinkle in his eye. Suddenly Sirius is 21 again, running to his best friend's arms, his wife smiling beside him.
"You're here. James says as Sirius slams into him. Tears prick his eyes, and his throat tightens with emotion. He squeezes James firmly before pulling back to look at him.
"Yeah," He says, his voice shakier than he'd like to admit. "I'm here."
" Come on," James says swinging an arm around his shoulders. "We've got some planning to do. Once we've got Moony with us, I want to pull our best prank yet on Merlin." James wiggled his eyebrows, a mischievous smirk on his lips.
"What do you have in mind?"
"What am I going to do with you do," Lily asks, not quite able to keep the fondness out of her voice.
And for the first time in decades, everything was okay. Because now, he had both his brothers back. And eventually, Moony would join them, too. And then everything would be just how it was supposed to be because they would be together.