Chapter Text
Regulus’s heart rioted, beats thundering like the steps around him. Blood and ash mixing into the dirt beneath him. Everything was ablaze, the trees, the branches, the leaves and the stars above. His gaze flickered, dust clinging to the corners of his eyes. The metal of his mask felt cramped over his face, his skin slick with sweat under its silver cover.
Voices called out, almost indistinguishable from the roaring in his ears. Curses blasted past him. He’d never escape this. How’d he ended up here anyway?
A man stumbled out from the fire and fell to his knees, hands desperately clawing at the mud and dirt. Regulus raised his wand, dark incantations at the ready. The man looked up, fear carved into his features.
His deep brown features; James.
Regulus wavered, the killing curse playing on his lips, tears filling his eyes. Six syllables; a flick of his wrist, and he would be gone. His misery, his pain and his desire. The dispute that threatened to tear him apart; family dragging him one way, love the other.
James’ hands searched the mud. Fingers spread wide, curling around everything that even faintly resembled his wand. Regulus' throat bobbed. Never. Not in this universe. Not ever.
He lowered his wand.
At the same time James’ left hand brushed against something in the grass; light brown wood engraved with a spiderweb design. His fingers tightened around the little stick, fear vanishing from his face as he lunged forward. Regulus felt his stomach drop, felt his knees give way as he scrambled backwards. James pointed his wand at him, eyes fiery brown in the smoke around them. Regulus’ breath hitched. There was no place he’d rather be.
James took a step forward, wand pressed against the slender silver of the Deatheaters' mask, tipping Regulus’ head back, making his heart skip and his lungs tighten. Regulus cried. He cried and he shivered, cold gripping his throat with its damp claws. His hands were at war with him, begging him to jab his wand into James’ chest, begging him to throw everything aside and grab the boys’ face; draw him away with a kiss that would last forever. A kiss that would turn this burning forest into the red and gold of James’ dorm, to the green and silver of his own. This wasn’t real. This was nothing but a nightmare. Oh merlin, let it be a dream , Regulus’ eyes fluttered shut. I beg of you. Give him back.
James’ lips parted. The tip of his wand briefly separated from Regulus’ silver mask as James made a motion through the air.
“Crucio!”
His lips wrapped around the letters. Regulus felt nausea rock through his body. He folded in on himself, lips trembling, tears streaming like cold fingers down his heating cheeks. He wanted to scream, wanted to cry out to make it stop. Anything to stop the pain, to stop her. He fell to the ground, barely acknowledging the wet dirt and the rain that swept in over them. The fire sizzled, the rain drummed against his silver mask, the night was a cloak and it swept over him in painful, choking embraces. He saw himself fall and crawl into a ball on harsh wooden floors. Clothes drenched in sweat, hands scratching at his tie; trying to force air down his lungs. A shrill voice ordering him to stand, demanding attention and order. Faces looked down on him from their places on the walls. Every single pair of eyes watched him. Everyone’s but his.
His.
Every single Black watched over him but the one he’d loved the most.
The one he’d trusted.
The one he missed.
Regulus was thrown back into the forest as the pressure eased over his chest. Something had changed. He felt the cool breeze against his cheeks and gasped for air, tasting the mix of ash and blood that filled his lungs.
He recoiled. Trying to rise as his entire body shook violently. He swallowed hard before throwing himself forward and letting his guts roll out over his tongue. Warm, sticky acid splashed from his gum and onto the ground. He shivered with fatigue. Feeling too warm and too small for his clothes.
His vision was blurry. Darkness covered all as the fire died out. He steadied himself against the ground. There was something there, something that gleamed in the last sparks from the burning forest. Something silver…
“Reggie?”
His mask.
Regulus’ eyes snapped up. Panicking. No.
James’ face was stricken with horror. A twisting, terrified, disgusted horror.
Regulus had lost his mask. James would know. James would see his face and he would know.
“James..” Regulus’ voice betrayed him. It died out when Regulus’ eyes met James’. For a blank second those brown depths held every part of him. In the next, Regulus felt like his bones were falling through open air. Every sparkle in James’ eyes was replaced with icy daggers of disbelief, of disappointment and fatigue. Whatever Regulus had hoped to see, it wasn’t this. The urge to just fall into this man’s arms, to break down into his most vulnerable form and heal within James’ warm embrace, was overwhelming.
Regulus stumbled to a halt, not realizing he’d been moving in the first place. His gaze lingered on James’ silhouette.
“What is this Reg, what’s going on?” James reached out to touch his shoulder. “I barely hear from you for months and then you do something like this?”
Regulus’ stomach turned once again. It wasn’t fair.
“Please, just leave that mask and come with me. Let me take you home. Mom will help you.”
Regulus chipped for air. He doesn’t know, he told himself. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t need to.
He doesn’t want to, chirped another little voice in his head. The perfect James Potter doesn’t know because he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t care because he doesn’t need to. He doesn’t need you. He doesn’t want you.
“Reg?” James’ voice was soft. Soft, yet it stung like needles on his skin. Bile rose in Regulus’ throat as his anger welled out of him. How dare James plead with him now?! How dare he talk to him - treat him - like he's something delicate? Like a child, like a scared little bird ready to fly away? In one swift movement he raised his wand and whispered the words. A curse shot out like an arrow sent by the angels themselves. James flicked his wand and warded it off. There was a beat of silence, then Regulus flicked his wand again, words barely brushing his lips as another curse reached for James’ body in the dark.
And so the dance began. Regulus growing more desperate with every incantation, every curse. He would flick his wand and James would ward off whatever spell he threw at him. He’d flick it again and James would ward it off again. Sweat pearled on Regulus’ forehead. He could see the emotion leaving James’ face. See the care and interest melt away. He flicked his wand again. James warded it off again. Would he leave him now?
With every step Regulus’ swings grew weaker and weaker, his desperation threatening to drown him. If only James would understand. Regulus could show him, Regulus could make him understand. Life… isn’t as easy for everyone. He hadn’t had the same choices James had. He… hadn’t. He didn’t.
James looked almost bored now, his wand pending forth and back with every protection. A new sense of dread gripped Regulus like sweaty hands climbing up his spine. He needed to do something. Needed to catch James’ attention again. Needed James to look at him again.
Regulus hadn’t noticed how close they’d gotten. At some point James must’ve stopped backing away because now the tip of Regulus’ wand brushed against James’ chest, the sudden resistance almost breaking the wand from Regulus’ grip. He faltered. His breath reached for the next words and faintly, he felt them recoil. Then James’ eyes found his, pity imprinted in his gaze, and the anger was back. Regulus held James’ eyes for a heartbeat before it became too much. Pain, anger and regret caused him to sweep forward again, flinging curses til his voice was but a whisper. His throat went dry, every hiss of a curse leaving burns like acid. Regulus’ arm ached, he felt the backlash of each curse jolt through his muscles. It made him nauseous, it made him stagger as he moved; made his fingers shake and his skin feel like a feverish layer on top of him. He flicked his wrist, then cried out silently as the curse exploded from his wand, his arm barely able to stay upright. His clothes clung to him, drenched in sweat. Another curse blasted away, the words out of Regulus’ conscience. Sprawling, unforgivable magic traveled through him until it reached its destination, and Regulus’ mind went blank.