Chapter Text
When no answer was voiced, James cracked the door open: 'Regulus...? Can we talk... please? I'm sorry, please let me in.'
James looked, from what you could see in the opening, like he had cried too, maybe even more than Regulus. There was guilt in his tone, genuine guilt.
'Tu veux l'laisser rentrer?' Sirius asked, in french, probably so that James could not understand ('You wanna let him in?')
'Je– je ne sais point. Je ne sais point si je tiens à lui parler en ce moment.' Regulus answered shaking his head lightly, which James did not see since the door was hiding him. ('I– I don't know. I don't know if I want to speak with him.' but he says that in a fancy-prim-and-proper way that no one actually uses anymore. I feel like the Black family would speak old french and Sirius, as a form of rebellion, wouldn't.)
'J'pense que tu devais au moins essayer de régler tout... ça,' Sirius says gesticulating to represent the problem. ('I think you should at least try to fix all... that.')
'Sirius,' he said in a small, shaky voice.
'Regulus?'
'J'ai– j'ai peur,' he responded, in that same tone, maybe even quieter. It was very unlikely for Blacks to express their feelings this openly, but the young boy was tired of hiding. ('I'm– I'm scared.')
'Je sais,' Sirius replied, offering support to his brother, speaking in a confident way, 'C'est okay, ça va être okay. D'accord?' ('I know, it's okay, it will be okay. Alright?' but he says that in a way that is not proper written french but Sirius isn't proper so who cares?)
Regulus nods once, just like he did the night he ran away, except he is crying much more and is so much less confident. Sirius said James had a crush on him, but what if he was wrong? Sirius just assumed James liked him, but it was very unlikely, honestly. Everyone at Hogwarts knew he liked Lily Evans, the perfect girl. Perfect Lily with a perfect personality, perfect grades, perfect body and perfect blablabla. He was very obvious about his love for her, making a total fool of himself to get her to merrily notice him. He never did that with Regulus. Never. Never. Never.
Once James Potter stepped in the room, Sirius left: 'I'm gonna leave you both to talk alone,' which was the right thing to do since his best friend would probably not want to talk about kissing his baby brother in front of him.
Regulus and James stayed looking at everywhere but each other for a few seconds, maybe even a minute or two. The brown-haired boy was shifting his weight from foot to foot and fidgeting with the edge of his shirt, the same shirt he wore when they played quidditch, not so long ago, while the black-haired boy was as stiff as a board, not doing much, yet you could still see the anxiety roaming off of him.
'Look Regulus–'
'Look James–'
The boys both spoke at the same time, and James giggled nervously before pinching his lips together tightly. Regulus, him, crossed his arms and bit at the nail on his thumb, staring at the floor. None of them dared to talk again, not knowing what to say or to do without it being too awkward. Not to mention, but the black-haired boy had never been skilled in expressing his feelings and emotions.
Finally, after what felt like forever but was probably just five or ten minutes, James Potter took a deep breath and apologized: 'I'm– I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, really. I understand if–'
'Sorry for what?' Regulus cut his words sharply, the other boy had no reason to ask for forgiveness. The only person that was in the wrong was Regulus, and Regulus only. It was Regulus that panicked for no reason and it was Regulus that kissed James. If he wanted to be a better person than who he was im his past life (If you could call it that?), he needed to learn to say sorry, 'You have nothing to apologies for, I was the one that kissed you. Stop acting like it's always your responsibility to fix everything, every small problem in the world. It really isn't.'
James was clearly a bit startled by that whole speech, the other guy was quickly raising his voice and speaking so fast he was barely able to understand anything. That probably didn't stop him from catching the half-mockery on the words every small problem in the world though. Regulus was mean, meaner when he was anxious. He had nothing to win from being rude but he just didn't know how to act any other way in this situation.
'I'm– I'm– I'm sorry because– Uhh.. Well you know–'
'No I don't know James, so please enlighten me!' he practically yelled, bitterly, acrimoniously. He was slowly learning to show more emotion since his family had taught him to always keep a blank face, and that included the bad ones. At least that's the excuse he gave himself. He had always been mean and grumpy, that wasn't new. He knew if he actually wanted to change, he needed to work on that too, but being mean and grumpy was his only defence mechanism, so then so be it.
James didn't do well with getting yelled at, or simply people raising their voices at him. Regulus knew that, he knew ever since Professor McGonagall started shouting at him in front of the whole transfiguration class after he did something terribly idiotic and started crying. Actually crying. That's what he did now too, his eyes filled with salty tears that threatened to start running down his face. Great. Now they both made one another cry. Except Regulus knew it would, yet he still did it. He will never fully forgive himself for doing that. He just used a someone's weakness to make them feel bad. He knew how that felt like, having to live with Death Eaters for a few years, yet he still did it.
'James is it true you like me?' Regulus needed to know, but he regretted asking immediately. He knew James liked Lily, not him. Not. Him. Regulus knew that, knew it was idiotic to ask, yet he still did it.
'D– Do you?' he answered, failing to sound confident, clearly startled by the question.
The raven-haired boy looked around, biting his lips nervously. He was determined not to be the one to say that. Since James liked Lily, admitting, not only to him but also to himself, that he, indeed, liked him, was like admitting defeat to Regulus. A terrifying, frustrating defeat. A defeat that would not happen, Regulus won't allow it.
'Of course I don't!' he snapped after the other teen stayed staring at him for far too long, 'The– The only reason I did– I did that was because I panicked when you used that stupid method.'
Regulus made sure to put the emphasis on stupid.
'I was trying to help! If you hate me so much then I'ma just leave!' James was screaming and now definitely crying before storming out of the room. Regulus didn't even get to respond.
That night, Regulus went back to his room, making sure Sirius wouldn't see him, which was easy since he was nowhere to be seen, and cried himself to sleep. Cried himself to sleep because of how disgusted with himself he was. Cried himself to sleep because he passed years of his life with people who used any form of weakness you showed against yourself, and yet he still yelled at James knowing exactly what it would do. Cried himself to sleep because James looked genuinely sad when Regulus said he didn't like him, and maybe, just maybe, if he actually had a chance, he just buried it deep in cement and let it harden to make it impossible to get back. Cried himself to sleep because he was just so fucking tired. Tired of chasing the light, the sun, knowing he probably would never catch it.
This wasn't a Quidditch match, he couldn't find happiness as easily as he could find a snitch. He didn't deserve it anyways, he had done way too many bad things and this was just the price to pay for all the ones that had to suffer because of his own choices. Maybe he should have just followed his story, after all. If he did, James and Sirius wouldn't have to deal with this. Sure, if he stayed back at Grimmauld Place, he would have died again, in a year or so, but Regulus never really cared about that anyways. It didn't matter. He didn't matter.