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The minutes stretched into an eternity of agony, and he screamed, screamed until it bounced back at them through the caves wet stone walls, feeling the echo tear his ears with crueler wavelengths.
Long after the potion had been drained, he still cried out in breaths that pierced his skin malevolently, distantly feeling Kreacher's hand try to comfort him awkwardly.
“Go, now, go-”
His throat was too dry. He wanted water. He wanted warmth, a cease to all of this, but the elf needed to leave before those creatures under the green waters dragged them down. The elf shot him a look of pity, but disappeared before the first arm of rotting flesh gripped the ground.
He dragged himself until he was at the very top of the island, hand shaking against his wand and mind twisting. He could fight them.
Or give up. Give into the sweet hands of death, let the skeletical fingers brush against his chest to claim his soul, if any was left, and deliever him from this torture.
But all he got was a cold, dead hand at his ankle, and the fire in him spread again, allowing him to start shooting fire hexes to his surroundings. They were weak, barely a small speck of fire but strong enough to prevent the corpses from nearing him.
He needed to survive. To care for this Potter child- to make sure the horcrux was destroyed. Kreacher was powerful, but not enough to destroy such creation, and the locket would be stored safely, but never extinguished from creation.
Before he could try to apparate, a pair of hands enveloped his ankles and dragged him down. His head bumped against the black stone violently, and lights specked his peripheral view along with faceless bodies that gathered around him.
Hands were everywhere, gripping and dragging and scratching, but his mind was already elsewhere- looking for another place, anywhere but this. He didn't bother with taking a deep breath as he was submerged.
Another pair of hands wrapped around his arm, stronger and, dare he think, warmer than the rest. It began to hoist him up, and without looking up he could see the halo of red fire above the crystal surface of the water. There was a voice- someone screaming, sounds toned down by the liquid but clearly there.
Perhaps it was how the end began.
- - - - - - - - - -
He was so pale.
He was used to seeing him like this, barely going outside as a child and much less in Hogwarts, but the white complexion of his skin was now resembling a light, bluish shade that made his stomach plummet. His skin was ice cold to touch, and even if the faint movement of his chest alerted him that the boy was still alive, his temperature was weighing down on him.
“Come on, Reg- don't give up on me, please don't-”
Lily’s soft rants about the treatments to hypothermia were rushing back to his mind in tremendous speed, and his wand was pointing in various directions: boiling kettle, more blankets, body warmth after he stripped him of the wet clothes that clung to him like glue.
What terrified him the most was the lack of movement. At least shivering was a natural way to create some heat, even if a minimum amount, but Regulus was as motionless as a corpse.
He tried not to flinch when the inky deathmark appeared from underneath the sleeve he had pulled away, covering it hastily with a tea towel before moving on to remove the whole shirt. Sirius couldn't help but gasp at the array of scratches that littered his brother's torso. He thought- he knew whatever hiding place a horcrux would be in was an invitation to hell itself, but picturing said tortures on the boy was too much.
Damn you Black, you ignored him. This is your fucking fault- if only you had listened to him when he tried to tell you-
A small moan grasped him back to reality, eyes shooting at Reg’s face. Eyes closed, lips blue. No movement. The hope that had sparked in his chest was now gone.
Regulus’s frame was skinny- thinner than he'd imagined, particularly for such an esteemed member of the Death Eaters. He had a few scars, here and there, but nothing that caught his attention as much as the tattoo.
It took him a while to ease Regulus into warmer clothes, but after a hard pull of sweaters, his brother now looked even smaller in the oversized cotton garment. Gently, feeling his chest punch against his ribcage violently, he snug a hand under his knees and under his back.
The thought of lack of eating struck Sirius again, as the small body weighed even less. However, he thanked the heavens for how easy it was to transport him to a bedroom.
He had to leave him there momentarily as the kettle began to whistle, nearly burning his hand after placing it near the fire and serving a large cup of tea. He would have to make Reg drink it once he awoke, but it was easier to have it near the bed.
After placing a few layers of blankets on top of the boy, he came to a realization.
He needed body heat.
Sirius knew how much Regulus hated physical touch- just like he himself did, but there was no other method he could come up with. Heating spells won't work as efficiently, and a grave feeling in the back of his throat reminded him that if he did not act soon, Reg might not make it.
“Fuck it all.” he whispered to himself, and struggled underneath the sheets to come closer to him. Carefully, he pushed Regulus to his side until he was able to hold the younger boy from behind, trying to keep his chin away from the colder shoulder.
There was nothing left now but waiting.
- - - - - - - - - -
“I need to talk to you”
He had crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe as Regulus looked around with frantic eyes.
“Why would I start a conversation with a death eater?”
“Sirius, this is severe. And I mean it, just- did you read my letter?”
“I did.”
“Then you know how dangerous a Horocrux can be. And the danger that Lily and Jam-”
“Don't say his name.”
“What?”
“Don't say his name, Regulus.” his voice was cold, colder than any tone he had ever used. “If we are in danger it would be your fault too.”
Regulus’ expression was unreadable for a moment before it turned into a scowl.
“I am risking everything to tell you this.” he hissed. “And you don't even- why should I be surprised. Nothing can get past your ego now can it?”
Sirius had tightened his fists and stepped back to shut the door, but Regulus was quick to throw his hand against the wooden frame.
“If you won't let go of your hatred towards me for just one second to help yourself and your friends, fine. At least read this. It's got everything I know.”
Regulus didn't shake as he thrust forward a tightly wrapped letter to his chest, retreating his hand and turning away. Before Sirius could react he had vanished into the night, cloak mixing with the mist as many of the Order’s enemies usually did. Except for something. A very insignificant yet off detail he had noted.
Instead of the greenish white smoke that followed Death eaters in their deadly paths, Regulus’s smoke was near invisible and the color of coal. It could only leave Sirius in doubt as he closed the door, sticking the letter in his pocket before returning to bed.
- - - - - - - - - -
Even with all the layers and his own body to provide warmth, Regulus shoulder remained icy. At least half an hour had passed and Sirius was alone to ponder.
How could he have let it get this bad? Why did he let it get this bad?
Perhaps if he had kept a closer eye on him- not just in the past years, but all throughout Hogwarts, perhaps if he had not pushed the boy away, Reg would still be good hearted.
No. Regulus was a good man. Deep down he was. Deep down he had tried to talk to him, to pick up and mend the shattered pieces of their relationship while Sirius just ignored him.
For a moment, Sirius wondered if he had ever ignored pleas of help as well, but quickly shut down the thought. He would have to ask Regulus. Talk to him. Have the truth.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
“Who was it?”
Remus was stretched in the bed, a book on his hands and the phantom odor of an empty tea mug by the night table. Sirius sank by his side, pulling himself up to lay his head on the younger man’s lap.
“No one important.”
His husband frowned, craning his neck to the side. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I'm sure, Moons. Just someone who needed directions.”
The expression of worry hadn’t faded from Remus’ face, an attitude that he carried for long periods of time after they began working for the Order.
“Fine, I suppose.”
Sirius had snuggled against the pillows, feeling the letter burn against his leg in the pocket.
“I’m going to be gone tomorrow, at least until Friday.”
“Why?”
“Just checking in with the McKinnons. They’ve had an issue with Kappas these last few days and wanted me to help them. I'll swing by James’ afterward and stay there.”
“You’ll be safe?”
Remus smiled down at him. “Of course I will be.”
As the man returned to his book, the thought of his brother slowly melted from his mind. The letter no longer burned. Whatever it was, Regulus would deal with. There was no reason to trust him with this information. He knew what he had gone into by joining the Dark Lord.
However, deep in his heart, a small trail of worry had begun to form.
- - - - - - - - - -
The trail of guilt was widening into an abysmal canyon. He should have read the letter, realized that the words they exchanged meant a bigger danger, a bigger sacrifice. Maybe if he had done something, paid more attention-
The sniffling sounds startled him, but he realized Regulus was still unconscious. Bringing up a hand to his face, he traced the tear tracks that had left imprints on Regulus’s sweater.
There was no use in stifling the noise, but when Regulus, in his pained comma, began shivering, he broke even further, crying into the boy’s back.
- - - - - - - - - -
Eventually he read the letter. Out of curiosity, he told himself, but reality made him realize, much later, the worry had been the cause.
It resembled a suicide note rather than a goodbye, and it broke his heart with every word.
The Horrocrux.
The act of bravery.
Perhaps Regulus would have done better in Gryffindor, considering to what depths he was submerging himself into just to go against the Dark Lord. He would deny any claims of tears as he read through the letters, but he couldn't deny the anger that surged through him.
How could the boy be so stupid? So goddamn reckless?
Without hesitation he scribbled a note down for Remus in case that he came back early, and disappeared from the room with a crack.
- - - - - - - - - -
“I'm so sorry, Reg. I'm so sorry- I should have tried, I should have-”
His words would do little impact. He knew this well from years of friendships- especially since the incident in sixth year with Snape and Remus. But he still had to try, act to make amends.
Quietly, Sirius Black promised himself he would never let go of his brother ever again.