I feel like coming undone
The boxes have been flood-gated open, each small part of him that his family deemed as weak or wrong or damaged or broken was kept away, kept far away where not even the tiniest of cracks could be seen or where not even the strongest of emotions, memories could creep their way into the forefront of his mind.
That was before he had given James Potter his mother's letter
That was before he had felt James' warmth and safety net which an enveloped him
That was before James, James, James
It was almost funny how quickly his mind had been able to change from Potter to James, where it still felt hard to even think of Sirius or anything else
It was easy, so easy, almost too easy to fall into the trap that was James Potter
To become just another to feel the warmth of the sun and the pull of attraction towards it.
James Potter was dangerous because he made Regulus feel
Regulus didn't want to feel, or more all his life he had been taught not to feel, and the fact that James made him want to feel, made him want to be good, made him want to be something after three interactions was not good, so therefore he was dangerous
So therefore, Regulus couldn't afford to go to the quidditch pitch anymore, whatever that had been, whatever they had been doing there, whatever bridge they had been building needed to crumble, It all needed to crumble in to ash and stone and rubble.
He couldn't afford to be swept and drawn into James Potter and all that he was
He couldn't afford to be his brother.
everything about this year was different for James, the fact that he could sit in the great hall opposite Lily Evans and not immediately jump to the best way to get her attention or have this aching need to fill a silence, he wasn't waiting anxiously or with bated breath for a letter from his parents, his mum will check in but there are no more updates on his dad's health, no more asking about how quidditch is going or his dad wanting him to buy his favourite honeydukes for him in hogsmede.
It was all different, he was all different and he didn't know how to feel about that All he knew was there was no way he could be the same when his dad had been such an influential and big part of who he was, his love for quidditch, his constant need to be doing something, his capability to love everyone so whole heartedly, his appearance.
he was all his mum when it came to humour and personality, but his dad was the monumental reason why he was who he was, he was the person who would spend hours making his hair look ridiculous for a small James, the person who would dramatically fall off his broom or sweep his mum into a huge hug but then make funny faces behind her when she spoke.
The person to always do what was right and make others too, who taught James the importance of fighting for good but also for loving family, he was the person to send howlers which shouted his praises, shouted about how proud he was of his sons, who so easily could love another like a son, who had enough love to fill up all four boys. and if James could be even half the man his father had been he would be ok, but he wasn't and the feeling of letting his father down, letting everyone down was eating at him.
He was sure everyone else was talking and laughing while they ate breakfast, but all he could think about was all the ways he was not his father.
his stubbornness, something that was always getting him trouble, his actions last year, the way he had held himself and the way he had talked to others, the way he had used his popularity as a way to gain authority, the way he had undermined the rules, the way he had hurt so many people, the way he had not respected when Lily said no, then way he had handled the aftermath of the prank, the fact that in lots of ways he felt responsible for Sirius' actions and what had happened.
He wanted, no he needed to be better than what he had been It just seemed cruel that it this was all recognition had happened whilst he was grieving when he has lost his dad.
he's not really there as they walk to class, not really focused on the conversation nor is he looking at where he is going. which is why he doesn't notice what's happened until Sirius and Regulus have bumped into each other.
oh and until Mulciber and Snape have their wands drawn Sirius hasn't seemed to have noticed, brothers both with eyes only for the other.
He doesn't even know how he had gotten into this predicament.
He had been walking with Barty, something about him getting a letter from his father, he’d been upset
And regulus had been closing down, he’d been building up walls in his mind and shutting off everything his mother would frown upon or sneer at or condemn as weak
Black’s weren’t weak, they couldn’t afford to be
And then suddenly Severus and his friends were there, and Mulciber was slapping him on the back and calling him “Reggie” and he didn’t understand why, why, why
Severus was staring at him again, his eyes penetrating and mind digging, hunting, searching
He hated it, it was times like these where he thanked the occulmency lessons from when he was a child, from before he could understand the importance of being able to protect one self
Being able to survive.
the barking laugh seemed to have come from no where, those glistening, shining, bright grey eyes that used to shine and glimmer for him were now solely on the boy beside him. The boy with shabby, fraying sleeve and scars that ran down his face like trickling rain.
And then there was James.
He was looking outside the window, his gaze so intense that Regulus thought the window would shatter from it.
grey eyes meet grey and Regulus tries, tries to stop, stop, stop. but the images flash, the memories retell themselves like a worn book at the front of his irises, urging him to think, to remember, to feel.
"sh it's ok reggie, do you want to know why?" and a small Regulus looks up at his brother with big, teary eyes. His brother who has an open wound by his rib and shaking hands, his brave big brother who is not looking at the cut but at him, his cold hands clutching the Youngers hair and pleading him to believe that everything will be ok. "because I say so, and I am always right" and he is grinning, a small thing just for his brother. "because I'm here and I've got you"
they're giggling manically, heaps of raven hair mushed together, limbs tangled as one as they play guess the shapes of clouds. "see that one there?" and Sirius is taking his brothers hand and drawing it to the right one "it's mother" and they laugh, small boys laughing so hard it hurts.
and it's pretend duels with sticks, it's soothing words under blankets, it's sharp words and cold stares. it's the door slamming, its begging and raw and desperate
"please, please come with me"
"I can't." and in the dark, uttered as barely a whisper it's "please stay"
its the gut wrenching answer "I can't"
its cold and lonely and stupid "I'll always be there"'s becoming sour
it's soft demands "your my only son now"
it's piercing stares it's "burn him" the incendio cast so painfully
it's dark rooms and "I can't," over and over and over again
It's his brother looking at him now, with eyes so bright and twinkling that it hurts, it physically hurts. Like a hex to the stomach.
because he is happy, happy, happy He doesn't notice Mulciber and Snape drawing their wands, or the way that Remus does the same.
Sirius doesn't seem to realise either he wants to hurt him, he wants to bear his teeth and tear him apart piece by piece, he wants to burn him.
he wants to hug him, he wants to cry and scream and shake and be held, he wants to hear "it's ok reggie"
"well if it isn't the blood traitors in the flesh" Mulciber doesn't care, he wants a fight and Regulus is tired, he is so fucking tired but the walls come up, the mask slips on as easily as his robes
"leave it" silence, usually he is invisible, invisible, invisible. usually it's hiding and shrinking and staying quiet not today,
he can't do this today. not today. not with Mulciber. His voice is hard and authoritative, so like his mothers that he wants to be sick and forget. Mulciber's eyes flicker towards his and acting bored, Regulus finally draws his eyes away from Sirius'
"why? want to protect your older brother ickle reggie" his voice isn't teasing, it's challenging
"I said leave it" Black's have always been good at hiding, hiding, hiding and he can't read Sirius, he can't understand what is swimming in his eyes. he wants to know with every fibre of his being.
"moony drop it" they all startle, seeming to have all forgotten James standing there, and god Regulus wants to shrink, he doesn't want those brown eyes seeing this, seeing him try not break at the seam. "come on, it's only polite you do the same" there is something about James Potter that commands, that stops a room, that forces them to look and listen, something that even Mulciber and Snape feel.
the wands are lowered and still Sirius hasn't torn his eyes away from his brother, and Remus is taking his hand and telling him to come on.
is this it? he wants to scream, days and days and months and months of waiting and waiting to see him again and Sirius hasn't even opened his mouth. anything would be better than this, this nothingness, any reaction.
"He doesn't need reminding Lupin, He's great at leaving" and Sirius snaps out of his rivière his eyes burning. and he is stepping forward. "reggie".
he flinches, the name or proximity he does not know which one makes him step back, away, away, away. to protect himself, to protect them both
"dont" he can't look at his brother, or Lupin, or Snape or Barty or James, James, James. he's gone before any of them can do anything, Barty coming after him, taking his hand and telling him to breathe. "come on, lets get back to the dormitories yeah? come on"
the corridor begins to narrow and the walls begin to close, close, close and he just wants it to all stop, stop, stop. he watches as nightfall falls over the castle, watches as it gets darker.
he doesn't go to the pitch that night, or the one after, or the one after.