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One leg dangled off the roof of the tower, the other tucked in tight to his chest. You could jump. Perched precariously near the edge, Regulus swung his leg back and forth. Jump. He could jump, but it would likely be messy. And trauma inducing for whoever found his body. Especially if they knew him. No, he wouldn’t jump today. He would wait until he got home for the holidays- Grimmauld Place had high windows. It was the only way to escape the Dark Lord. Escape his whole life, really. You could cut, the voice sounded almost desperate.
That was more manageable.
Out of his boot, Regulus pulled out the knife Bellatrix insisted on giving him. (‘good for torture,’ she giggled) The itchy restless feeling got stronger, pushing from under his skin. He imagined it was a bit like if he filled his body with flobberworms, writhing and squirming. Sounds like something Sirius would do. But he knew how to stop the feeling.. Regulus aligned the blade between two mostly-healed lines, making it perfectly parallel before pushing down. The thin, silver, possibly cursed blade glided through his skin, the pain feeling satisfying and good and right. He cut three more before the feeling stopped, and just sat there for a second watching the blood fill in the cuts, trickling down towards his elbow as he held his hand up to the sky. Maybe if he kept reaching, he could touch the stars. Regulus switched arms, slicing one straight line, and was halfway through another when the door in the room under him burst open. The blade went out of control, cutting a deep and crooked line, and Regulus hissed in pain and annoyance.
“Where are you, Slytherin git? Out after curfew?” Sirius. He hadn’t even talked to his brother since he ran away last year! He’d tried, once, but Siri had just turned away. This was not the reunion he had in mind. Please, don’t see me… Regulus froze, his knife in hand, scooting away from the edge. How did Sirius even know he was here?
“That’s weird, it says he’s just over here. But I’m standing right there, and he definitely isn’t,” It was stupid Potter. Stupid Potter, the brother-stealer, was right under him. Great.
“The Map never lies,” That must be Lupin. He’d seen him on Prefect patrols before, but he’d never known him to talk so ominously. Honestly, he thought Lupin was the sensible one. Regulus debated what to do. He could just jump… nope. They would probably try to save him. Or just watch. He wasn’t sure which would be worse. He could… try to get past them? Stay up here? He shifted, and the blade he placed beside him rattled down the roof, falling past the balcony. Of all the bloody things.
Everybody underneath him went silent, and he cursed softly. Of course it would fall. Yes, we just needed that dramatic tension. Blood dripped from his arms as he sat, sleeves rolled up and body unmoving. He should probably move.
“I think he’s on the roof,” said the last of their gang. Philip? Paul? He tried to pay attention to his brother, but the last one always slipped his mind.
“Well, I’ll go get him,” Nope. Nope, nope, nope, Sirius did not need to do that. He was just fine up here. Alone. Without Sirius. His prayers went unanswered as his brother’s head popped up, and he clambered up, grunting. No, no, no no no. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as Regulus hastily shoved his sleeves down. “What are you doing up here?”
“Stargazing,” The younger lied promptly, unflinchingly meeting the other’s eyes. Sirius knew he was lying. Regulus didn’t really care. Sirius couldn’t do anything worse than what Regulus could do to himself.
“Right. What’s on your arm?” Regulus’s eyes widened slightly, but he knew that Siri - Sirius caught it. After all, what good was being a pureblood if you weren’t trained to be perfect? Regulus knew what Sirius was expecting it to be. A Dark Mark. Even if many people didn’t know the name, people told stories about the tattoos branded on the arms of the Dark Lord’s followers.
“Nothing,” he said, even as he felt the sting of the silken fabric rubbing over the cuts. Liar.
“Show me your arm,” Sirius demanded. Rude. It’s not like Regulus would show him if it was a Dark Mark. Which it wasn’t. But Regulus wouldn’t show him anyways.
“No!”
“Show me!” At that, Sirius lunged towards his brother, but Regulus scrambled away. His brother growled, almost like a dog, and Regulus fought the urge to hiss back like when they were little. With that, a strange sort of cat - and - mouse (or dog. Why did he keep referencing their childhood games ugh) ensued, both (though Sirius more than Regulus) trying to stay on the roof without falling. Eventually, Regulus being smaller and slightly woozy from blood loss, Sirius managed to clamp a hand around Regulus’s left wrist.
“Ow!” Regulus yelped, pain shooting through his open cuts. Sirius glared as he tore the green sleeves upwards, with a dramatic air around it. Sirius was rather dramatic. His brother’s jaw dropped as he lit his wand, holding it close to Regulus’s arm, the cuts perfectly visible. Hm. That wasn’t particularly good.
“What…” Regulus winced, scooting away, as Sirius looked at him confusedly. His big brother followed him though, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. A dying fish, in the air and flopping around desperately. Without the flopping. Regulus squeezed his eyes tight, not wanting to see the look on his brother’s face.
“Reggie…” Sirius’s voice sounded soft and caring, and Regulus hated it.
“Go away! ” He furiously blinked away his tears, glaring at Sirius. He was aware that his mood had just shifted dramatically, but really? He was fine. He definitely did not need Sirius coming here. How was Sirius even here, anyways?
“Are you kidding me? Leave you like this?” The older boy looked almost offended.
“It never stopped you before!” Regulus spat, and Sirius reeled back.
“Well, I didn’t know you were slitting your fucking wrists before! ” Regulus froze. What. “I-” Sirius said, looking horrified. Good. He’d known his brother was blunt, but really? Regulus shut his eyes, swaying slightly. Don’t cry. His head felt dizzy… he felt dizzy. He wobbled back and forth, vaguely aware he was tipping backwards. A hand latched onto his shoulders, dragging him back up. Regulus pulled his eyes back open.
“Oh, fuck fuck shit. We gotta get you to Pomfrey fucking five minutes ago!”
Regulus was fine. He didn’t even hurt, and he said as much as he tried to pull away, hand flopping over Sirius’s grasp uselessly. Sirius pulled him in, though, and then he was… not on the roof? Sirius was holding him tight, and they were going fast. His head was swimming as they bumped down stairs, and garbled words swum in and out of his mind, his head, his ears. Everything sounded underwater. He hated water, always afraid that he would inhale and liquid would flood his lungs, he couldn’t even swim. Fish could swim. Regulus was swimming, through the nonsense of his half-conscious mind. He was a fish. This was nonsense. He hadn’t spoken with Sirius for a good long while. How long? Sirius’s hair was long, that was for sure. Like Snape’s. Or Dumbledore’s.
“Reggie! Reggie stay awake! Oh fuck, don’t die -” Somebody poked a finger into his face, and he squeaked a little. Who went around stabbing meaty fingers into people’s faces? Probably stupid Potter. Regulus felt his head loll back, and tried in vain to pull it back up. Sirius swore. So vulgar. Mother would be disappointed, but she always was, wasn’t she.
A loud banging noise sounded, and Regulus curled into Sirius tighter. It sounded a bit like spellfire. Or a door. Who knows, with Sirius. Maybe he cursed a door. He heard panicked snatches of conversation. Sirius. Stupid Potter. And someone with a matronly sort of voice - actually it might be the matron. Who knows, he didn’t visit the hospital wing very often. Who knows what she would say. About a lot of things. He made a soft mewly sound when he was deposited onto something soft. Sirius…
Regulus spluttered as something slipped down his throat. And another something. Potions. Maybe it was poisons - that would make his job easier. He tried to force open his eyes, but all he saw was messy blobs and smears and blinding light. They slid back shut.
***
His head was pounding. Regulus tugged the blankets over his head weakly, curling away from the bright light. It was too bright. Once in second year their DADA professor called him too bright. Regulus was always rather smart - the hat had wanted Ravenclaw. Stupid hat. Stupid like Potter.
“Regulus?”
It almost sounded like… but it couldn’t be. What else couldn’t be was this being his bed. Regulus’s bed had green blankets, which cast green light. Right now, he was curled in grey. He rubbed at his eyes, and felt something strange and fuzzy on his arms. What…? Bandages. Regulus didn’t use bandages. He just cast a few episkeys. Who bandaged him? Oh, Merlin. He had been… on the roof… and then Sirius… oh no. Oh, Merlin. A sob choked out of his throat. Now they all knew. Stupid Potter, the Gryffindors, he probably told everyone already. Okay. Regulus’s breaths came in shaking gasps. He would just obliviate them all. He was bright. Only bright people could come up with such excellent solutions.
“Reggie?”
The covers were whisked off of his head, and he looked up, silver eyes full of tears and curled into a ball. Pathetic, really. And there, standing above him, was Sirius. He coughed, clearing his throat.
“Why are you here?” His voice was soft and high, and he sounded like a toddler. Great. “You can go. I’m fine, see?” Regulus waved his bandaged arms in the air weakly. Like a fish. If fish had arms. Actually, that would be terrifying.
“Are you fucking kidding me Reggie? You are not fine,” Regulus frowned. Well, he supposed that if he found Sirius on a roof, wrists covered in bloody lines, he wouldn’t think it was fine… But that was Sirius. He was Regulus. The soft one, the weak one, the broken one. Siri was meant to stand tall and be a king. He deserved the name Regulus. Because what kind of king gives up on his duties? Sirius at least made new duties for himself, a purpose. Regulus just floated through life. Like a fish. Okay, what was up with all these fish metaphors? Regulus didn’t even like fish. He liked cats. Finally, he shrugged weakly.
“I - I mean…” He struggled for words, and sucked in a gasp when Sirius suddenly hugged him. “Er…” He awkwardly patted his brother on the back. How do people hug anyways? The older boy laughed wetly, pulling back and sitting up.
“Why - don’t - “ Sirius was struggling with his words seemingly. Hm. “Why did you do it?” Regulus startled himself by barking out a laugh. That was usually Sirius’s department. Who was looking at him with brows furrowed and eyes welled up.
“Well… it’s not like my life is any good, is it?” He is aware that he is sort of oversharing, but it doesn’t really matter. He’ll be dead soon enough anyways, and this will never have mattered to him.
“Don’t… don’t say that,” Hmm. He must have been speaking out loud, then. Either that or Siri is very sensitive. It could be either. What were the potions that Madam Pomfrey gave him, anyways? He felt rather floaty. Like a- not a fish.
“Calming draught, sleeping potion, blood replenishers… Fuck, Regulus, you’re a mess, aren’t you?” Regulus shrugged, leaning into his brother. He picked at the bandages on his left arm. Soon enough, he would be Marked there. Or he would be, if he didn’t die first.
“I’m to join the Dark Lord,” Regulus tugged Sirius to lay down next to him and curled in, like they were young. “Did you know that?” Probably not. And his suspicions were confirmed when Siri jerked up.
“What? Oh fuck Reggie, we gotta get you out of there.”
Regulus lifted a shoulder. “I’ll be dead by then anyways,” He shut his eyes, soaking in the warmth of his elder brother. Maybe being dead would be like this. If so, it would be rather pleasant.
“Shit, don’t say that,” Sirius shook him desperately, and Regulus looked up at him. “We’re going to get you out of there, you can stay with the Potters!” He wrinkled his nose. He didn’t even know the Potters. Well, except for stupid Potter. “You can stay with me, and everything will be okay, Reggie. It will.”
Regulus nodded. Maybe that was a stupid thing to do, but whatever. Even bright people could be stupid sometimes. And when Sirius hugged him again, tighter, he realised maybe it wasn’t stupid.
“Everything will be okay.”
And maybe it would be.