Regulus ran down the stairs, the frustration and anger pumping through his veins, only growing as he neared the kitchen. He could hear Sirius in there. Humming along to some song playing low on the radio, hot oil popping in the pan. Regulus wished that he didn’t have to do this, that he could just enjoy his brother's good mood, as the dark cloud of their parents had left town. He wanted to go joke and laugh with his brother, perhaps even spend the day together, but he knew that would not happen. Not when Sirius was like this.
Regulus stopped just outside the door, taking a deep breath, getting his emotions under control. Hoping that he could keep neutral, Sirius had enough emotions for the both of them and Regulus had learned it never helped when he got angry. It didn’t help when he stayed neutral either, but he always hoped, so foolishly hoped that his brother would see sense and answer him truthfully.
He stepped through the doorway and looked lovingly at his dancing brother for a few seconds before clearing his throat to gain his attention.
Sirius turned to Regulus, a lopsided smile on his face as if he couldn’t quite control both sides of his mouth, spatula in hand pointing towards Regulus.
“Reggieee!” Sirius exclaimed loudly. Unnecessarily loud. His eyes looked glazed and his face was pale, no hint of colour to be found. It didn’t surprise Regulus, not anymore but he couldn’t help but feel a sting in his heart. He always believed Sirius when he said it wouldn’t happen again. That he wanted to get better. That it was his last high. That he wanted to be a better brother, the brother that Regulus deserved. But it never happened. It was always a lie. Well, perhaps not a lie but Sirius never held his promise.
“Hey Siri,” he said, voice low and emotionless. “I was wondering if we could talk?”
Sirius nodded his head vigorously, “sure, sure!” Sirius returned his attention to the frying pan, eggs and bacon just about done. “Let me just…” He gestured widely with the spatula before dropping it on the countertop and picking up the pan, tipping it to unceremonial dump its contents on top of his plate with toast. Discarding the pan in the sink and picking up his plate, he turned to Regulus, “table?”
Regulus nodded and went to sit on a chair, Sirius on the bench opposite of him.
“So you wanted to tal––FORK!!” Sirius jumped up from his seat and walked over to the drawer holding the utensils in two long strides, retrieving a fork and returning to his seat and stuffing some of the eggs in his mouth. “So what’s up, little brother?” Sirius said while chewing his food.
Regulus hated seeing his brother like this, acting so different from himself but so convinced that he had found ‘his true self’, that this erratic shadow of a man he was becoming was the true Sirius. And not the, although wild tempered, good-hearted and sweet brother that Regulus had grown up with. This Sirius was not someone Regulus wanted in his life, but he found himself unable to let go. To say it was enough and he couldn’t do it anymore. If Sirius didn’t want to stay sober, then Regulus didn’t want him in his life. He didn’t but he did. He kept hoping that his real brother would return to him, that one day Sirius would actually remember who he was and be happy.
Regulus took in a deep breath, willing the emotions that stirred inside of him to settle. “I’m missing sixty quid.” He said.
Sirius furrowed his brows and swallowed the bite he had been chewing, “that sucks, I bloody hate it when I drop my money.” Sirius took a bite of his toast and feigned kindness, “I would’ve borrowed you some, but I’m strapped.”
Regulus gently shook his head, “I didn’t drop them, they were taken.”
The speed at which Sirius had been eating slowed until he stopped, swallowing his last bite and laying his fork on the table. The plate still half full. “Taken?”
“From my money jar,” Regulus said as he nodded his head.
Sirius let out a long breath, “do you think someone broke in?”
Regulus shook his head a single time and met Sirius' eye, looking expectantly at him.
He let out a cold laugh, it sounded manic, unnatural. “You think I took it?” His voice was full of disbelief. But it was fake. Regulus knew it was. It was always fake. Regulus couldn’t remember the last time he had a real conversation with Sirius. One that wouldn’t later get polluted by the knowledge that Sirius had been high and barely present in his mind, making him forget and blur together every meaningful moment that they’d had. Making him forget words that Regulus would never.
“Siri––” Regulus began, his voice firm, but he was quickly interrupted by Sirius
“Un-fucking-believable! You're my brother! I wouldn’t steal from you!” His voice was shrill, making Regulus wince slightly.
“Please, Sirius…” The emotion started to crack through Regulus’ calm.
“NO!” He shouted and stood up violently, flipping his plate in the process, making egg and bacon fly and the plate clatter loudly on the table, getting slightly chipped in the process. Sirius leaned over the table, slamming his hands down on the table to support his upper body with a loud bang. “I didn’t fucking take your money, I don’t need charity!”
“No, you need help,” Regulus said before he even got to think it through.
Sirius' face turned hard and it was now clear that Regulus would lose this fight, perhaps he would never have won. “I didn’t take your fucking money, perhaps one of your weasel friends did,” he hissed, spit flying onto Regulus' face.
Regulus let out a frustrated breath “Sirius, you’re the only one who knows where I keep it…”
Sirius huffed and stood upright, “you think you’re so clever don’t you? Turning me into the big bad wolf, so people take pity on poor, poor Regulus,” his voice was so full of venom that Regulus could feel it sting.
Regulus turned his eyes to the table before whispering; “I didn’t say that…”
“You didn’t bloody have to! You’re such a despicable human being, that you don’t even need to say it, I just know it’s what you do! How many fucking people haven’t you told your sad sob story about your horrendous brother and how he’s ruined your life?” Sirius let out a harsh and forced laugh, Regulus stayed quiet. “But do you know the funny thing? Do you, Reggie-pooh? Huh?” Sirius moved around the table until he stood beside Regulus, placing his mouth just a few inches from Regulus’ ear. “Answer me,” he voice low but harsh.
Regulus shook his head, afraid to open his mouth less he started crying.
“No? Let me tell you then,” his voice was so cruel and taunting that Regulus couldn’t help but imagine that it was a stranger talking to him and not his brother. His brother who he loved so much that it hurt, his brother who he missed. This couldn’t be Sirius. Not his Sirius.
“It was you who made me this way,” Sirius hissed. “It was you who drove me to the edge and pushed me off. I am like this because of you and you deserve to know that. You deserve to know how much of a garbage person you are and how little you deserve in life. You turn everything you touch into shite and you ruin the lives of every single person you meet. You are a cancer, growing and killing everyone you pretend to love.” Sirius had a slight smile on his lips, he was proud of himself. Regulus didn’t even have to see it to know, he just knew. Regulus was cracked, the tears filling his eyes, daring to spill and his breath shaky.
“I hate you,” Regulus whispered, his voice barely audible.
Sirius stood up straight and put his hand on top of Regulus' head, who had to stop himself from leaning into the touch. “Join the fucking line,” he said harshly before stomping out of the kitchen and slamming the front door shut behind him as he left the house, leaving Regulus alone with egg in his hair, bacon grease on his shirt and a broken heart.
Regulus let out the breath he had been holding, and leaned forward on the table, hiding his face in his hands as the tears started rolling down his cheeks. He had lost Sirius and he wasn’t sure that his brother would ever come back to him.
Years later after Sirius had gotten clean, Regulus would tell Sirius about the incident and ask ‘Do you even remember?’ He couldn’t. It was another memory lost to the drug haze. It was something heavy and it was entirely Regulus’ to carry. It was as if he could have made it up. It could have just been a scene in some movie, so far from their lives and made up. But it wasn’t. It was real and so was the hurt.
Sirius had of course apologised profusely, promising that it would never happen again, and of course, Regulus had said it was alright and that he forgave him, that they had moved past it. But if Regulus was honest, he didn’t forgive Sirius. And he never would. It was an unhealing sore that the stitches that were Sirius’ recovery could barely hold together. The hate this day had created in Regulus’ heart was always there, dormant, ready to burn again.