Chapter Text
Sirius never liked coffee. Actually, he hated it. His mother used to drink coffee when he was younger, and he stupidly associated her cruelty with the smell of it. He also hated eggs. No trauma response this time; he just genuinely hated eggs. He threw up once because of them, a few days after he ran away. Effie made some one morning, and he was raised with manners, thank you very much, so not eating what was made for him with so much love and time wasn’t something even thinkable for Sirius. After that day, he vowed to himself to never eat eggs again.
But yet, after he had made his disdain for eggs and coffee known to every person alive, he still sat every morning in front of a plate of fried eggs and toasted bread with a cup of coffee in the same café Regulus used to go to every morning before his classes.
Regulus would’ve taken the exact same order; Sirius knew that even if he never saw him there. He also knew that he was in the exact booth his brother would’ve sat in, with the door in front of him and his back against the wall. Sirius felt like those were the perfect conditions for Regulus to feel safe.
He couldn’t bring himself to eat. It was the third time in a week he tried, but his hatred for seventy-five percent of the components of his order made it impossible. It wasn’t for him anyway; it was for Regulus. And if he doesn’t come before noon, then the food will go to the trash, just like the other plates. So Sirius waited, patiently, without moving his eyes from his plate, to see the tips of his brother’s shoes, which were Doc Martens that had clearly belonged to Sirius in his youth.
The waiters would often come to his table, asking if he needed anything. He couldn’t bring himself to answer them and would just shake his head. Sirius could hear them talk about him, but he couldn’t care less. He could bear the whispering and the looks; he just needed to see his brother again.
Sirius wasn’t dumb. He liked people thinking he was, because then it was easier to get what he wanted, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew his brother was dead. He saw his grave. He saw the tombstone above the empty coffin, with his name engraved in it. He saw the day he stopped being a brother. He felt the way he became an only child. Yet, he didn’t want to live it. What was the point of life if he couldn’t see his brother again? So, he lied. To himself first, because fooling himself was quite easy, then to his friends, because if he smiled long enough, they’ll finish by believing he doesn’t care that much. And maybe someday he’ll believe in this too.
He nearly jumped out of his chair when he saw a pair of Doc Martens on the floor. He nearly shouted Regulus’s name before seeing a completely different face facing him. A tall, scar-faced brunet boy was looking at him, with a cane in his hand. Sirius’s face crumbled, clearly disappointed, and he let his eyes go back to his still untouched plate.
The boy seemed to be around his age, maybe older. He was watching Sirius with curious eyes, like he was searching for something Sirius couldn’t name. He was holding his cane with a scarred hand, and sometimes Sirius could see it make a circle in the palm of his hand.
“Really sorry to bother you, but I’ve been wondering for weeks now, do you, by any chance, know someone called Regulus?” The boy said. Sirius’s eyes found his again, and his brain flourished by the sound of his brother’s name.
“You know him?” Sirius asked, his voice not louder than a whisper.
“Yeah, he comes here every morning before his classes. Are you two related?” He put more of his weight on his cane, wincing a bit the more he stood. He was wearing the pin of the café, Sirius realised.
It took a few seconds for Sirius to answer, “He’s my brother.”
“Oh, that makes total sense, the two of you look like twins. D’you mind if I sit a bit?” He asked, moving his cane slightly in front of Sirius. He shook his head, and the boy sat in front of him. “Thanks. I’m Remus, by the way, nice to meet you.” He smiled at Sirius and his face seemed far warmer than before.
“I’m Sirius. Sirius Black.”
“Serious? Like in ‘Are you serious?” Remus asked, and Sirius let a small smile get to him as he answered.
“No, Sirius like the star. It’s a family tradition,” Sirius added after seeing Remus’ puzzled look."We’re all named after celestial bodies.” Remus hummed, then let his eyes settle on Sirius' plate.
“You’re not eating?” He asked, pointing to the eggs.
Sirius made a disgusted face. “Not for me. I’m waiting for Reg.”
Remus paused a bit. It looked like he restrained himself from saying something. Sirius didn’t comment on it and let his eyes go back to his plate, his hair falling in front of his face. The silence fell easily between them, Sirius was thinking of Regulus while feeling Remus’ brown eyes on his skull.
At some point, when he was getting comfortable with Remus’ staring and presence, he got up, and Sirius’ eyes followed him until he was standing in front of him again.
“Well, it was lovely to meet you Sirius. I hope I haven’t bothered you much.” He laughed awkwardly, his hand spinning his cane, “See you next time?” Remus asked, looking pointedly at Sirius.
He watched him, confused, then agreed with a quick nod. He saw a small smile take place on Remus’s face before he nodded back and went back to the kitchens. He stayed a few minutes in, then got out with a quick step and red cheeks. Sirius could hear brief laughter before he let his eyes follow Remus to the back of the register, where he smiled politely at the customers.
It was the first time in weeks that Sirius’s eyes were looking at something that wasn’t eggs, coffee, or the walls of his bedroom. He didn’t think of Regulus again, not until he was out of the café. He forced himself not to cry in the street of London, closed his eyes forcefully in the cab that took him to the Potters, then locked himself into his bedroom with tears decorating his cheeks. What a shitty brother he was, can’t even mourn his sole brother when he sees a pretty boy.
He couldn’t sleep, his mind was too loud. He forced himself to eat something in front of Effie so he would stop being under her worried eyes and smiled when she voiced her worries. I’m fine, I promise I am , that was what he always said. The same words, again and again and no one ever questioned it. How could they, when Sirius made sure they couldn’t?
Sirius went back to his bed as soon as he could. He couldn’t dream, the last thing he saw in his sleep was how Regulus’ body must have looked like. He saw the blue, pale body coming out of the waters, with his hair and clothes soaked in water. Sirius saw his hands around his throat, his eyes urging Sirius to save him. He was drowning and crying and begging for Sirius’ help, but all Sirius could do was watch him. James woke him up just before Regulus’ dead body fell on the ground. Since then, his rare nights were dreamless and empty, and he always felt tired when he woke up, no matter the amount of time he slept. It wasn’t like he slept much anyway.
He wanted to rot in bed until his skin merged with his bed. But he couldn’t, because then they would worry. They will ask him those stupid questions with their stupid pity . Sirius didn’t want their pity, he wanted their love. Maybe that was too much to ask for.
He didn’t go to the cafe the next morning because he couldn’t get up from his bed. He pretended to be sick and stayed in his room all day, watching his walls full of posters of his favourite artists.
No one came to bother him until the next day, when James asked him if he felt well enough to go to the movie night Marlene was doing. He agreed without knowing what he signed for, James’s voice not even reaching his brain.
Sirius knew James and Peter were waiting for him. They were in the living room, discussing loudly about football, while Sirius was sitting on the floor of his room, putting on his jewellery, a small mirror in front of him. His hand reached for his favourite necklace, a silver chain with a four-pointed star dangling at its centre. Its bottom point was longer than the three others, and in the centre of the star, a small diamond was resting.
Regulus gave me this necklace , Sirius thought as he put it on. He pushed his hair from his neck, watching himself closely in the mirror. He hoped they wouldn’t focus too much on his slightly reddened eyes and his sick-looking appearance. He smiled a few times at his reflection, trying to convince himself he was happy.
See, if you wanted to survive in Grimmauld Place, you had to be good at lying. Truth had value, more than money in this house. If you had nothing to gain, lie. If you wanted to eat, lie. If you wanted to have something similar to a childhood, you lie. You lie and you make sure no one ever finds out the truth, else you’ll get to know by heart how many lines and cracks were on the wooden floor of your bedroom. And Sirius was a good liar. He lied about everything, just because he was used to it, and most of the time lying was just easier than telling the truth.
So lying to everyone he knew was quite easy. He lied about being fine, and so far no one really questioned that. He lied about not caring about his brother’s death, and so far everyone believed him. He lied again and again, every morning and every night, and no one was questioning him.
He never really left the house, it was still inside of him, making his body rot within.
And Sirius couldn’t bear it anymore. He thought he got out of it. It was supposed to stay behind him with his fucked up childhood. But their claws were too deep in him. It was killing him slowly, making him mad before his inevitable demise.
He kept wondering about how Regulus felt before going into the waters. Had he felt like dying was the only way out of there? Did he cry himself to sleep every night, waiting for the courage to run away, to join his big brother wherever he was?
If he felt like this, Sirius could understand why he killed himself. How tragic it is to live constantly at the bottom of the well and all you can do is watch the sky above you, hoping someone will fall deep enough to reach you. How drowning of a feeling it was. Maybe Regulus had been able to finally breathe under the cold water.
Sirius was drowning in his head. He couldn’t think anymore, couldn’t live, and they were always watching and it was too much. He didn’t know if he had a way out of this situation. Maybe he didn’t, and he’ll end up just like his brother, trying to breathe under the water.
But Sirius couldn’t drown. He couldn’t do that to the people he loved more than his own family. He couldn’t just… give up like Regulus did and join him wherever he was, no matter how much he wanted to. No, he loved his home too much. He loved the tea he used to take with Effie on those Saturday afternoons; he loved talking with Fleamont about anything; he loved being with his friends; he loved the parties and the movies and the concerts they went to; he loved living . But he did more than just loving Regulus. Regulus was more than just someone who held a part of Sirius’ heart. Regulus was… everything . He was the stars Sirius loved to watch, he was the smell of hot chocolate on a cold evening, the delicate sound of a piano playing, the taste of snow in winter, the warmth of the Sun in summer.
But Regulus was dead and Sirius had to live without him.
Sirius was putting on the multiple silver rings he owned when he heard loud footsteps in the corridor outside his room. He quickly got up, put the mirror on his desk then opened his door before whoever in front of it tried to knock on it. James was standing in front of him, his hand raised. He put it down then eyed Sirius weirdly before smiling.
“What’s taking you so long? We’re going to be late.” He said, tossing back the hair in front of his eyes.
“Sorry, couldn’t find my hairband.” Sirius replied, then closed his door and went downstairs, his body brushing James’. The latter said nothing and followed him silently, but Sirius could feel his eyes on the back of his head.
James had acted like that for weeks now, even after Sirius almost begged him to act normally. At first, when the pain numbed everything around him, it was nice to know that someone was looking after him. He knew that he had someone he could rely on and it had always been like that with James.
They met for the first time in middle school, when Sirius was still hoping his mother would love him one day. He knew no one and no one seemed to care about him, except James and Peter. Then, it had always been the three of them. No matter what they were doing, it was the three of them always together. Joined at the hip , that was what his teachers would say about them.
James had been the one who took Sirius in his lovely home with his lovely parents when he ran away. James had been the one who let him cry his eyes out when Sirius had his first heartbreak. James had been the one who cried with Sirius when Regulus died.
James had always been the one. He meant so much to Sirius, he was his family, his first friend and everything in between. He knew Sirius better than Sirius knew himself, and he understood quickly that Sirius wouldn’t grieve his brother like everyone grieved. But he never said anything and let Sirius handle the situation how he wanted to and it was great at first, because he didn’t feel forced to feel anything.
But now, he could do anything to feel something other than emptiness. And he would do anything to make James stop looking at him like that. He couldn’t bear it anymore, his eyes full of pity for Sirius. He couldn’t bear how he stopped having other emotions than pity for him. And for God’s sake he would do something very bad the next time someone treats him like he’s made of glass. He wasn’t going to explode or anything, so why couldn’t anyone treat him like they did before?
Sirius wanted everything to be like it was before. He was tired of the looks, of the tears, of the empty apologies and of life itself. He was so tired and so empty it hurt far more than grief.
“Pads…” James said, almost whispered, when they were on the stairs. Sirius stopped and turned around to face him. “You know… You know that you can tell me everything, right? You don’t have to pretend or keep everything to yourself with me, you know that right?” He asked, his eyes full of the pity Sirius was sick of.
He could tell the truth, Sirius thought. He could cry the tears he held back for hours now and tell James how empty he felt and how much he missed his brother. How he couldn’t bear living without him anymore and how he didn’t want to live at all anymore. How sick and tired he was of the pity everyone was giving him and how he just wanted everything to go back to normal. How he wanted to hug his brother one last time.
But he couldn’t. The weight of the truth was already weighing down on him and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He would say the truth, then what? What could James do about the emptiness inside of him? James could never replace Regulus. He could never fill the hole widening inside of Sirius. James could be everything, but not Regulus .
James couldn’t bring Regulus back. He couldn’t fill the hole inside of him. James couldn’t do anything . What was the point of telling something? All Sirius would get is pity . James would tell his parents and they’d send him to a stupid therapist to whom he’d lie to again and again.
There was no point in filling the hole inside of him. It was a Black’s destiny to bear alone the weight of their own soul.
Sirius smiled softly, “Don’t worry about me, and worry more about how Lily will react when you give her the stupid necklace.”
James’ furrowed brows disappeared with a sigh. “That’s low, Sirius, really low.” He said as he walked down the stairs. Sirius laughed until he couldn’t see James anymore then sighed in his hands.
Walburga would have been proud of him. Sirius wanted to throw up.
He joined Peter in the living room. He began to talk with him about something he couldn’t even concentrate on to remember what it was when James came into the living room a few minutes later.
“Hey Wormtail,” James interrupted them, his hands full of snacks, “You're driving?” He asked as he went outside.
“What? I haven’t touched a wheel for months!” Whinnied Peter, following James outside. Sirius was behind him, closing the door behind them. Even if he complained, he would still do whatever James asked him to do. That was how Peter was, he’d drink every word James ever said to feel like he mattered to someone, because what was worse than living without mattering to anyone?
“Mum punished me, I can’t drive and Sirius doesn’t have a driver’s license.” Said James as he put all of the snacks in his car. “Isn’t it crazy that she punished me even though I'm legally an adult? I can drink alcohol in front of her and she’ll say nothing but she suddenly draws the line at driving?”
“Prongs, you drove your parents into a tree.” Said Peter as he got into the car. Sirius said nothing, still mirroring their movement.
“God forbid I make a single little mistake once,” mumbled James as he buckled his belt, and Peter laughed. Sirius laughed too, but just because Peter did. He didn’t even know what they were talking about, his ears full with white noise.
He tried to include himself in the conversation but as he was the only one in the back seat and Pete and James could talk to a wall for hours without a problem, he let them rant about whatever, his mind drifting away as he watched the city move quickly through the window.
—
“Sirius? Are you even listening to me?” whispered Regulus, crossing his arms in front of his torso.
Sirius’ eyes focused on Regulus, sitting in front of him in his childhood bedroom. He still had a baby face with his full cheeks and his eyes not as cold as he forced them to be. Sirius had been graced with some sleep, apparently. They were probably in Grimmauld Place, Regulus never left the house. It was dark and Regulus was whispering, their curfew must have been hours before. If their mother found them, they wouldn’t be allowed to eat for at least three days.
“Sirius? Sirius! You said you were going to listen, you liar!” He said as loudly as he could, which was still a faint noise in the silence of the room. “I know you don’t care about it but you promised! I've listened to you talking for hours about all goody Potter, and you’re literally going to see him tomorrow so—”
“I’m so sorry Reggie.” Silence answered Sirius first, Regulus frowned, his brows deep between his eyes. “I should’ve been there, I should’ve stayed like I said I would.”
Regulus looked at Sirius weirdly, like he couldn’t understand a word Sirius was saying. He should’ve been around eleven, maybe twelve, Sirius thought. He was still the baby Sirius was seeing every time he closed his eyes. His dark hair wasn’t as long as Sirius’, but he was carefully growing it without their parents’ permission.
Sirius wanted to cry in his lap and beg for his forgiveness. He wanted to hug him until he became a part of Regulus. He wanted to stay in that nightmare of a house to protect Regulus like he’d promised he would. But he couldn’t anymore, Regulus was dead and he was dreaming of a conversation they never had.
“What’s wrong with you? Did Maman throw you too hard on the desk? Are you really alright?” Regulus’ eyes and voice were tainted in worry as he got on his knees, searching for blood behind Sirius’ head.
Sirius brushed him off gently, keeping his hands in his. They were soft from the lack of piano lessons and smaller than Sirius remembered.
“I’m fine Reggie, I just miss you.” Sirius said, his eyes on their joined hands. Regulus shook their joined hands a bit, making Sirius look at him. The pale skin of his ears was red and Sirius laughed silently at the sight. Regulus scoffed, clearly unamused that Sirius was laughing at him and rolled his brown—almost dark—eyes when Sirius’ body visibly shook with amusement.
“I’m right here, Sirius. I’ll always be here. It’s me and you first, always. Toujours ensemble, remember?” Sirius said nothing at first, his eyes full of tears he’ll never release. “Now quit being sentimental, I have things to tell you.”
He smiled, nodding quietly at Regulus, his heart breaking when Regulus did that half smile of his before ranting fastly about that new book he read a few days ago. Sirius put his forehead on Regulus's shoulder, stroking gently the hands he was still holding. He slowly sunk his head down on Regulus’ laps and even if he sighed loudly, Regulus’ hands still found Sirius’ hair and played gently with it, a small smile Sirius couldn’t see on his face. His eyes closed while listening to his brother’s heated whispers and Sirius listened quietly, humming from time to time to keep Regulus aware of his attention, the beating of his heart syncing with Regulus’.
Sirius wished it was real. He wished to hear Regulus' beating heart, to see his eyes full of life again, to feel the warmth he usually felt when Regulus would smile. Sirius wanted to love and miss his brother, not the corpse they couldn’t find. He wanted to hear him play the piano again, listen to him complain about the talentless people in his class, laugh with him in the night because of their respective imitation of their parents, admire his hair and the way they keep getting in front of his eyes, even when they’re at their shortest.
Sirius missed Regulus so much it felt like his heart stopped beating. Maybe it did, maybe he died when Regulus stopped living. It felt like it anyway.
The next time Sirius opened his eyes, he was back in the car, with Peter and James screaming the wrong lyrics of a song on the radio. They were close to Marlene’s place, but Sirius didn’t really care. He sighed and rested his head against the head restraint of his seat. He closed his eyes again humming Regulus’ favourite composition, quiet tears rolling down his cheeks, because Regulus Arcturus Black was dead and Sirius didn’t know how to live with it.