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Hush, Regulus thought. Quiet your face and your feelings. It was almost over. Don’t let the thoughts show on your face. Swallow them down and let the acids of your stomach disintegrate them. Until later.
In the darkness of his room, when everyone had fallen asleep and the cold from the open windows froze his toes, when the shivers began to hurt and he couldn’t hold his breath anymore, only then, alone and lonely, would Regulus Black let his tears fall.
The party was dwindling, most of the guests had stumbled out of the house in the past hour, drunk off their asses and shouting off last minute ‘Happy Birthday, Sirius!”.
The music was lower and felt muffled, their floor was littered with empty cups and cigarette buts. Regulus bet it was sticky with spilt drinks. A handmade banner was falling from the wall Lupin had tapped it to that afternoon, only the left side still hanging on.
There were half-filled beer bottles on every windowsill and coffee table. The couches had been moved from their usual places to make more space and Sirius and James had strung decorations all around the room, colourful balloons and strings.
“Reggie,” A soft hand laid on his shoulders and he looked up to find Evan’s easy smile, cheeks red and eyes glossy, “We’re leaving— Hey, Barty, Barty! Come say goodbye to Regulus.”
From his spot on the couch, backed up into the corner wall of their living room, where Regulus had been sitting and hiding from the past hour, he saw Barty walking over, almost falling too many times.
Barty collapsed next to him, head resting heavily on his left shoulder. His breath stank of cheap beer and tequila.
“I miss you, Reggie,” Barty mumbled into his neck, the hot air causing goosebumps all over Regulus’ body.
Hush.
Hush.
Regulus took another swing of his drink, barely feeling the burn, even though he knew his cup was mostly vodka and melted ice at that point. But he also wasn’t sure his tongue and throat had any nerve endings anymore.
“I’m here,” He mumbled back, the words heavy and dull, “I’m always here.”
With a blink, there was someone next to him, and Evan laid his head on Regulus’ other shoulder, voice a lot more steady than Barty’s or his own, “We always miss you, though. I wish you had stayed with us after leaving.”
Regulus swallowed again and again. The fog of alcohol was covering his brain, wanting his mouth to open, to spill out feelings, it made his tongue looser. But Regulus was better than this. Hush, he thought harder and kept swallowing.
“It’s why we bought a two-bedroom flat, you know,” Barty snuggled closer, arms circling Regulus’ waist, “We needed a Reggie room. For when you finally left their crutches.”
He felt his brows furrowing, fists closing as the words spilt out, “I never left.”
Barty didn’t listen, barely coherent mumbles leaving his mouth, “And we were gonna take care of you. Like we always had. Just better, cause now you are away from them. And I was,” He hiccuped, rubbing his nose up and down Regulus’ neck. “I was gonna teach you how to be happy. We needed a Reggie room for when you left. But then you went to Sirius. And the room is empty.”
Except Regulus hadn’t left.
He had never been strong enough to leave. Sirius was the strong one out of them. He was the one who left, who ran away and made a life for himself, who became a person outside of their parents, who found his passion and made it into a job, that had more friends than hairs on his head.
Regulus had stayed. He only ever did what they said, believed what they told him to and went to uni for the degree they told him to, only to fail out. Regulus had three friends, and most of the time he was convinced they hated him.
“I didn’t leave them,” He said again, acid bubbling in his stomach, burning him from the inside out, “They left me. Mother got sick and died, and Father got drunk and drove his car off a bridge.”
Evan moved away, “Regulus…”
“We have a Reggie room and no Reggie in the room,” Barty pulled away, resting his back against the couch.
He closed his eyes tight, unsure of how to stop his heart from hammering against his ribcage, how to make it stop hurting. It felt as if he was constantly falling from up high, the swooping emptiness in his stomach and the surprise when he hit the ground.
Regulus dug his nails into his thighs, looking at Barty’s flushed face, eyes closed but frowning and hair wild against the couch, “I’m sorry. I just really, really wanted my big brother. I thought he could fix everything.”
“Did he?” Evan asked.
Regulus stayed silent.
It felt like blaming Sirius if he said no. As if Sirius’ incompetence was at fault for him not being fixed. But it wasn’t. He knew it. Regulus was the problem. He wanted his brother to fix him, but it had been three years since, and he was still here, waiting for the right moment to go hide in his room and cry because in the end there was nothing to fix. Regulus wasn’t broken.
He just was.
“Are you okay, Reggie?”
“I’m—,”
Screams were coming from the other side of the living room, and all three boys turned their heads towards the sudden noise, watching as James and Lupin poured vodka straight from the bottle into Sirius’ mouth.
Marlene and Lily were cheering from the ground, downing their shots, with a sleeping Peter passed out next to them, head resting on a chair. Regulus looked around and couldn’t find anyone else.
It seemed the party was truly at its end.
Remus and James lived with them, and the girls and Peter had already planned to sleep over.
“Come on, Barty,” Evan got up and started pulling Barty by the arms, “We need to go. Fuck, you’re heavy, love,” He grunted, trying to find balance as Barty slumped against him.
“Romance is dead, I say,” Barty shouted, causing Evan to grimace and everyone to look over to them, “Calling me fat and ugly and boring. You’re sleeping in the Reggie room tonight. No dick for you.”
Regulus heard multiple laughs. His brother raised a cup and shouted back, as if they were miles away and not in the same room, “You tell him, Crouch!”
From his dark corner on the sofa, Regulus felt his lips turning up, amused at his brother siding with Barty and Evan’s exasperated face.
“Yeah, Evan, not cool. Never pegged you for a fat phobic asshole,” Marlene snickered, an exaggerated frown on her face.
James joined in, looking extremely offended on Barty’s behalf, “You should never, ever, not ever, call someone boring, Rosier. It’s like… so offensive.”
Regulus laughed quietly. Of course that was the part James would be fixated on.
Evan showed everyone his middle finger and growled, “I didn’t say any of those fucking words. Unbelievable. Happy fucking birthday, Sirius. Bye, Reggie, we love your emo self.”
Then he dragged a way too drunk Barty out, the door slamming behind them.
“Touchy, isn’t he?” Lupin quipped into the quiet, sparking another round of laughter that rippled through the room.
And Regulus watched from his dark corner. The group of friends couldn’t stop laughing, looking at one another and finding more joy in the silly situation. Regulus still remembered resenting them, for taking away his only friend, his best friend.
The wound still felt open, watching from the sidelines, knowing they had something together that he would never be part of, and that his brother, his Sirius, was theirs now, had been for so many years.
Even if Regulus was here now.
But he smiled looking at the group, blinking fast to stop the burning in his eyes, and got up from his corner, walking out of the room, the music and laughter lowering the further he went, passing through the hallway and all the pictures in the walls.
The bigger one was from the day Sirius, James, and Lupin had first moved into the house, with Peter, Lily, Mary, and Marlene around them, all sitting in the front steps, sweaty and tired, with mountains of boxes and random objects around them.
That had been five years ago. While Regulus was still sleeping in his childhood room, neglecting his studies and trying to ignore the constant yelling from his parents, daydreaming of a different life, a better life.
There were pictures of Sirius and his friends in high school, in college, on trips and parties. Always smiling.
All the pictures around him were the result of Sirius’ bravery. He left and built himself a better and happier life, with a family that loved him and that he could love back.
By the end of the hallway, Regulus found the first frame with him in it. It was taken about three months after he had moved in. He was sleeping on their couch, head resting on Sirius’ lap, with James and Lupin sitting on the floor, sleepy smiles on everyone’s faces. The next picture with him on it was from last year, taken on Christmas morning, with all four of them in matching pyjamas and surrounded by wrecked wrapping paper and scattered gifts.
In the end, Regulus wasn’t in many pictures.
Of course, he wasn’t. He wasn’t in many moments, so he couldn’t be in many photographs. It was his fault. Regulus knew. Not long ago, he would have placed the blame on others and absolved himself of any guilt.
Before knowing them, Regulus would have convinced himself they were choosing to not have him in any pictures. That they hated him, or that they were indifferent to him. That maybe… maybe they kept forgetting him.
It was much better to be hated than forgotten.
However, that was before. Now, Regulus knew he was to blame.
He was the one who stepped out of the front of the camera, never believing that he was a part of them. Always so sure he was intruding. No matter how many times they invited him to hang out, a dark part of himself was always denied, convinced that it was out of pity, out of a weird sense of responsibility, that it wasn’t because they wanted Regulus around.
Why would they?
With a last glance at the mural of memories on the walls, hands fisted at his side and throat filled with tears he kept swallowing, Regulus kept walking, leaving it behind and not risking taking a single breath until he went past the back door into the backyard.
The cold wind slammed into him as soon as he stepped outside, shocking his lungs into action. Ragged breaths escaped his lips and shook his chest, the music and laughter muffled as the door closed behind him, the light from the moon and the windows almost too bright.
He took a few more steps on unsure feet, until he sat down on the steps of their porch, hugging his legs hard against his chest and letting his head fall with a thump on top of his knees. One, two, three. Lungs filling in. Three, two, one.
The cold brushing against his skin helped him calm down. The quiet and empty made his head feel lighter, no more doubts of his place in the house, in his brother’s life. No fear of where his future was going.
There was nothing.
And then there was something. The creaking of the door opening and the escaping music and conversation. Footsteps soft against the wood flooring. The smell of cologne and beer.
“One minute I looked at the couch and you were there, alone but there,” Sirius sat down next to him, their bodies barely fitting together on the same step. “I blinked and suddenly you were gone.”
Regulus brought his legs down, sighing against the silence, “I needed some fresh air.”
Sirius hummed.
The silence between them was never truly comfortable. There was too much left unsaid. Too many words they were afraid to say build the chasm between what they could be and what they were. Sirius was the brave one. But this time it was Regulus who took the leap of faith.
“Do you… Are you disappointed in me?”
Sirius chuckled bitterly and waved his hands around him, “I don’t know. Jesus fuck, Regulus, you can’t just ask this type of shit.”
“Yes, I can,” He argued, “And I can also read in between the lines. If you don’t want to answer it’s because you are. Disappointed in me, that is.”
“Maybe I am,” Sirius spit back, a mean smile on his chapped lips, “My opinion never made a difference to you. So why do you care?”
Regulus shrugged, counting numbers in his head, one, two, three… twenty-four, twenty-five, trying to stabilize his racing heart, “You’re an asshole.”
“No shit. But so are you. Welcome to the family, little brother.”
The silence stretched further. The space between them became bigger and bigger even as their shoulders touched in the small steps. Regulus felt his fingers going stiff at the cold and his lips turning so dry they would crack. But the cold felt painfully good. He couldn’t feel it.
Sirius cursed under his breath, “I used to be. Disappointed in you. That you stayed. That you were not like me. That you were such a…”
“Say it,” Regulus challenged, turning his head and looking deep into his brother’s eyes, “It’s not like you haven’t said it before.”
“You were a coward.”
And it hurt. Just like it had hurt years before, when Sirius whispered those same words to him, in the dead of night, tears streaming down his face and a messily packed suitcase in his hand, seconds before he ran away.
“You hated that place. And you hated them. For God’s sake! You hated yourself. But you were too much of a coward to do anything about it. So yeah, Regulus, I was disappointed,” Sirius’ jaw was tight and his shoulders tense, dark eyes shining under the moonlight, cheeks and nose crimson red, “Does this make you feel any better? Does this better our relationship at all? What’s the fucking point?”
It took until the coppery taste of blood coated his tongue for him to realize how harshly he was biting his lips. Fingers tapping quickly and non-stop at the wood under him.
“I loved them. I did. You never understood, but I loved them. They were my parents. I loved them. I loved them. I loved them.” Regulus chanted, his cheeks itching as tears fell, his heart hammering against his ribcage and legs bouncing loudly.
Sirius grabbed his hand suddenly, stopping the incessant tapping. His brother pried his fingers open and intertwined them with his own, holding so tight it almost hurt. Almost. But mostly… It felt warm. Their hands were still freezing and probably going blue.
Sirius never touched him.
And he never touched Sirius.
But it felt good. Familiar. Warm.
“I know. I know,” Sirius whispered tiredly, “It’s easier to hate them. If I just hate them, then I can forget all the times Mother cleaned the scrapes of my knees and blew air on them to stop the medicine from burning. I can forget the times I sat next to Father in his office with a pack of crayons and old contracts that were no use to him anymore and pretended I was working with him.”
Regulus nodded, a strangled cry leaving his throat as he took another leap of faith and laid his head on his older brother’s shoulders. He braced himself for a hesitant response, a moment of awkwardness. But his brother immediately softened and turned his body, holding Regulus closer, burrowing in each other’s warmth. In a touch long forgotten.
“Mother used to always come to my room when it was storming because she knew I was scared. She would pick me up, take blankets and my plushies, and take me to your room. She would turn on your nightlight, that way I couldn’t notice the lightning.”
Sirius held on tighter, “I thought it was just you running to me. I never knew it. But this is what I mean.”
“What?” Regulus pushed away, searching for the answers in Sirius’ eyes, “What do you mean, Sirius?”
“It’s easier to hate them. If I hate them enough there’s no guilt, no mourning, there’s nothing but anger and relief. But if I remember the good moments, when they fucking bothered to be parents, then it hurts. It becomes complicated. Then I have to keep fighting within myself, between loving and hating them. Between not caring and wishing they knew how to love us.”
Regulus pulled his hand away and got up, going down the rest of the steps and turning his back on Sirius, bringing his hand to his face and hastily cleaning up the tears that insisted on falling.
“And I’m the coward,” Regulus laughed, “You keep making them into these evil incarnated parents.”
Sirius walked up to where Regulus was, standing in front of him, a bit taller, with longer hair and fewer bags under his eyes, but despite all that, with his red-rimmed eyes and sharp jaw, it was almost like looking into a mirror.
“They were. Walburga and Orion were abusive assholes. They didn’t know how to love us. They shouldn’t have had children.” Sirius said, words coated with years of anger and resentment. He was trying not to shout, speaking over gritted teeth.
Regulus shook his head violently, “No. That is your hate speaking. They sucked. They were not perfect parents. I know that! Despite what you think, I’m not stupid, and I’m not blinded by my love for them. But they were mom and dad. They loved us however they could.”
“It was not enough,” Sirius argued, voice tight and hair flying wildly around his hair, the cold wind making his words more cruel, “They were cold. They demanded too much and gave too little. There was no warmth in that house, no touches, no laughter. You look at a cruel memory with fondness. Mother knew you were scared and instead of comforting you, she gave the job to someone else. To her other child.”
With eyes widened and hurt making his tongue loose, Regulus took a step back, “A job. That’s what it was to you?”
Sirius shook his head, taking a step closer just as Regulus took another one back, “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“They were cold. I’m not going to argue that. But it’s all they knew, Sirius. Mother knew she couldn’t comfort me as well as you could.” The words came out of his mouth in puffs of smoke, the longer they were outside the smaller his body got, curling in on himself, “They were raised by parents worse than them. They tried. And maybe they failed. They weren’t cruel. Mother and father just didn’t know how to be any better.”
Sirius walked closer and this time, Regulus let him. He let his older brother cradle his head in cold hands, let him wipe off the ever-falling tears and their eyes locked on one another. Years of history passed by in seconds, of a childhood one of them, refused to think of and the other refused to forget.
“That’s not an excuse. They should have tried harder. They should have known better. Especially because they went through the same. Because if you’re right, then does that mean we’ll never be good parents? That we’re bound to keep repeating their mistakes? Over and over again?”
Regulus let his head fall from his brother’s gentle hold to the crook of Sirius’ neck. He breathed in his cologne and the smell of cheap beer. But underneath it was Sirius. The same smell he took comfort in those stormy nights. The same smell Regulus would look for in Sirius’ room for months after he left.
“We’re never going to agree on this,” Regulus said against Sirius’ shoulder.
His brother shook his head, “No. We won’t.”
Regulus loosed his arms from where they lay stiff on his sides and circled them around Sirius’ waist. When was the last time they had been that close?
Sirius dropped a kiss against Regulus’ temple. It was careful and quick. Unsure. But Regulus melted further against him.
“We deserved better,” Sirius mumbled over the sounds of the night. Over the loud laughter coming from inside the house. Over the wind and cars.
Regulus nodded, “Maybe we did. But we can’t change that now.”
Brothers. Brothers. Brothers. Brothers. Brothers. Brothers. Brothers. Brothers.
They would never stop being brothers.
Regulus had never known a life without his brother. From the moment he was born and to the moment of his death, he would always have a brother. It was a lifetime commitment.
“I hate them,” Sirius professed.
And Regulus confessed, “I love them.”
They grew together. Learned life together. Regulus and Sirius. Sirius and Regulus. Their roots would forever come from the same place, tangled in one another, knotted deep underneath the earth. In thousands of universes, in different lives and at different times they would forever be brothers. Brothers. Brothers. Brothers. Brothers. Brothers. Brothers. Brothers.
Their agonies would never be too heavy for the other to hold.
And their love would never be far enough that one could not feel the other.
Sirius felt free right then, “I guess that has to be okay.”
“Yeah,” Regulus agreed, words flying easily from his mouth.
It would be okay.
Regulus had his big brother.
It felt cold as they untangled their arms, but there was a new side to them. There was no fear that this would be the last time they would hug. Regulus knew it would happen again. He went back to his seat on the steps and Sirius went for the door, ready to go back inside.
Until he stopped, hand on the doorknob and eyes down to find Regulus.
“I’m not disappointed in you,” Sirius said, no doubt lingering in his voice, “You’re here. That matters. More than anything else.”
He didn’t wait for Regulus’ reply. Not that Regulus had one.
Maybe Regulus was right.
His big brother could fix everything.