Chapter Text
November 17th
Had anyone told Regulus 8 years ago, that one day he'd be sitting in a white room confessing the horrifying memories that haunt him to the world, he would call them deranged and recommend the nearest Psychiatric hospital.
Yet there he was, with a familiar face explaining that he only has to give as much information as he feels comfortable with. The right amount of things to inspire people to seek guidance. But he couldn't help to wonder if his story would “move” people, or make them see him as unworthy of their time. If his vulnerability would feed their hatred or their love.
Well, he was now going to find out.
His makeup artist was done and his manager finished his pep talk, all that was left now was sit in that chair, scatter his brain for memories he wished to bury, carve out his heart for a camera, and see if his tears were entertaining enough.
As he got up and felt a tender hand on his arm “Remember, if you need a break, you get up and we'll understand” Ted offered a soft smile. “It's alright, I agreed, didn't i?” He shrugged and tried to sound normal through the tight knot in his throat.
That was the thing, he agreed to this, he said yes. So why was he feeling so sick? He had weeks to mentally prepare, he practised weeks in front of a mirror, wrote too many scripts to count and memorised most of them. He was the one who agreed to make a change. So why did he feel like he needed to run away?
Ted gave him sympathetic eyes to try to comfort him- which did not work. “It's still okay to not feel okay. You're human Reg, let yourself feel.” He took a deep breath. “If you want to cry or scream you do that, and if you don't want to go through this anymore, we'll leave.”
“That simple…?” He felt vulnerable, Ted made him feel like a child. “That simple bud”.
He doubted for a moment. He had an outing, nobody would judge him if he couldn't do it, right? No, that was a lie, he would hate himself for it later. He said yes because he knew that no one deserved what he went though. It's a cause that was needed, children out there needed it.
“No, I'll do it. I said yes for a reason, and I'll stand by it” More confident now, he reassured his manager with an affirmative look. He walked to the marble table, and felt the eyes of everyone in the room as he made his way. Once he reached it, he hesitated before sitting on the white chair, but did it nonetheless.
Looking up he saw the faces of strangers and a ridiculous amount of cameras, but he didn't say anything on that- perhaps later he would. One of the strangers said “We start filming in 5… 4…”
Damn the counting, it made him even more nervous.
“3…”
Yup, not getting any fucking better.
“2…”
He took a deep breath, ignoring how his stomach was hurting.
“1…now!”
As the cameras began filming, he tried to remember the long familiar speech he spent too many days memorising, and once he did, he spoke.
“Hello, my name is Regulus Black, mostly known as Regulus Vance, member of the band “Soulbreak”. Also once known as Denebola Black.” He said the name with a bitter tone. He truly wondered if giving the world his deadname was worth it, but he knew it would be taken as a sign of vulnerability. It's not like they didn't know he's trans, they just never knew his birth name. Well, until now.
“Today I'm here to tell a story not many know in honour of the 19th of November, the World Day for the Prevention of Child Abuse, and to remember all children out there that if you're suffering of abuse, there will always be someone to help you, even when you think there isn't.
I was once alone, trapped in a house where I wasn't loved, and thought that there was no way out. I followed rules that only made me feel emptier by the day, I wore dresses that made me feel out of place and accepted punishments as a form of “love”.
By the age of 16 i was a lifeless corpse, I was surviving in a prison made to kill me, and it almost did. Had i not accepted the love and help of those who worried for me, i would've bled myself out in the living room of that hell”
His bones were burning, he could feel every broken part of his body. The blood in his mouth felt metallic. His legs were as numb as they could get, yet somehow they were shaking uncontrollably.
The harshness of his mother's belt still burned like fire and his head felt like a big rock weighing him down. Regulus tried to lie down, to rest his body for the time his parents got ready for bed.
Once he heard a clicking sound, he grabbed his mother's belt and began to crawl to the main door. With every drag, the blood from his body stained the white carpet beneath him even more. The raging pain in his knees made him want to scream, but he bit further into the belt to muffle his cries.
“The night they sent their “daughter” to the hospital, I was supposed to die, but I fought, because I was not as alone as I thought, and because for once I wanted to live.
With the help of the people who I loved and trusted, I gathered the strength and the enough evidence to take legal action against them.”
She was holding his hand like it was the last time “Reg please, listen to me, if you don't do anything they'll kill you” Emmeline's voice was breaking more with each word, and so was his heart. “I can't Em, I'm not brave like… like…. i'm really, really scared” he was forcing himself to answer between cries.
“Oh sweetheart” Mrs Vance cried, hugging him a little harder.
“Please dear, we can't help you if you don't let us” Mr Vance said steadier than the rest of them. “Allow us to help you, I promise we'll get you out” He was stroking his hair, a fatherly affection he always assumed- not that he would know much about those.
He understood he should accept their help, but god knows how scared he was. Everytime he even thought of leaving that house, his mind went places he didn't know existed. He felt weak and terrified, he felt like a coward.
He would always tell them that everything would be alright as long as he followed the rules, and they didn't need to worry. He'd reassure them that if it ever got bad, he would come to them for help.
But this time was different, this time it didn't matter if he played their game. Ever since his brother left without looking back, his parents made sure to daily beat any possible idea of running away out of him. This time, it already got too bad. He promised he would ask for help, and he hated lying to his loved ones.
Regulus hesitated, but swallowed the knot in his throat that kept him from speaking.
“Fine, I'll let you help me”
“I fought with everything I had, because freedom was my goal. I wanted to be finally happy, I deserved it.
I was guided in the way and still to this day I'm grateful to my dad for moving heaven and earth for a child he barely knew” At the simple mention he realised just how many tears were falling from his face. Yet he didn't mind, because it was his dad he was now crying about, not his biological father, not Orion Black. His tears were there because of the man who loved him as his own the moment he laid his eyes on him, Eugene Vance.
Even with a breaking voice and a shivering lip he kept on speaking.
“Thanks to those who gave me help and encouraged me to fight, I am here. And I know I'm not the only one who deserves to be happily free. I know there are countless children endangered by abusive families who deserve happiness. So here I am, reminding you that even if you're scared, even though seeking help will always be a struggle and sometimes we feel alone; no matter how alone we feel or we are, we have to try. Because living is worth the fight”
Today was the trial, today they would know whether his fight was for nothing or if it was worth everything. He felt every single feeling his body ever felt; pain, confort, happiness, anxiety, fear, confusion, warmth, coldness. He felt intensely overwhelmed.
Regulus silently prayed to whatever god or goddess that could hear him that all they've done was worth it- he found himself doing that lately.
At the very end his overwhelmed state did not allow him to concentrate much on anything, contrary to the beginning of it, where he was over analysing every word and gesture.
He zoned out, he couldn't stop thinking if Sirius would be proud of him. If he was right by begging Mr Vance to not call him to testify because he was already happy, he didn't need to be dragged back. But maybe he was wrong, maybe he wanted to see them go to jail, maybe he even missed him...
Unfortunately, he knew he was right. Sirius was happy with his new family, he didn't need to be brought back to this hell, and he definitely did not miss him. No matter how much he wished to be wrong, he knew the truth, and not even his overthinking would change reality.
The thought made his eyes sting, and quickly they were filled with tears. Though he hadn't realised until he suddenly felt someone hugging him so tight he could hardly breath.
“We won, son! We won! My baby we won!” He heard Mr Vance cry beside his ear. It took him a full minute before the words sunk in and a smile grew on his face. His world felt warmer, happier, and as if it was a part of his nature he hugged his dad back.
Free, he was finally free.
“Cut!” The same stranger ordered. The word brought him back from his thoughts, only to realise the soft smile he was wearing and the feeling that was filling his heart; pride, he felt proud of himself.
He cleaned his tears as he got up and went to hug the friend who waited for him just some steps away. “You did so well Reg, I'm so proud of you” He tugged him in without thinking twice. “I know, thank you”
That day he didn't go to his house, that night he chose to go home, to go visit his family. He did already visit on Sunday and called his mom in the morning, but he didn't care, he needed to see them. To be held by them again, to feel their love closely.
He messaged his mom before getting in his car telling her he was probably going to crash there until next sunday, and as always, she sounded delighted.
Knowing about his arrival already, his parents were waiting for him outside, sitting on their rocking chairs. Once he stepped out of the vehicle and saw them waiting peacefully for him, he remembered the feeling of everlasting belonging he felt every time.
Home. This was home, and he wouldn't trade anything for it.