Chapter Text
Regulus Black was not sure what to do. This was an interesting revelation, as his entire life had been laid out before him in simple and easy to follow steps: Do what his mother said, don’t ask too many questions, and uphold the family name. The problem at hand was the direct result of ignoring those rules- spitting on them, defiling them, and ruining his noble bloodline, as his mother would say.
Lying on the couch of Desdemonia Lewis’ surprisingly homey flat, Regulus watched the ceiling fan tick by in rhythmic circles to soothe the torrent of thoughts threatening his mood. He had spent the night before with a chest tight with panic, glancing over to the fireplace every other second in anticipation of a screeching Walburga Black. He tried not to think about what she would do to the place after Des had put so much care into making it feel safe. She always knew what to break to make things hurt the most. He smiled slightly, thinking about how at least this time he had made it out in one piece.
One year ago, he had been graduating Hogwarts and was primed as the perfect Black heir to join Voldemort’s army. Now, after a handful of betrayals and years worth of careful confidant work for Dumbledore, he was finally out. Out of the Black family, out of his childhood home, out of Hogwarts, and out of a determined and undeniable future. He was all at once incredibly grateful and overwhelmingly terrified. Unfortunately for him, the one thing that he desperately wanted right now was to tell his brother about it.
When they were younger, Sirius had a sixth sense for when he was having days like these, days where everything was too much and the anxiety ran through his body like a lifeforce. His brother would come into his room and find him hiding under his blankets, shaking like a leaf. He would sit on the floor, or sometimes on the bed, and just talk. Rambling about the newest album Andromeda had snuck him, or the plot of a Jane Austen novel, or the scientific differences between two rocks. Anything simple, easy to understand and calm to fill the silence. He somehow knew it would pause all the worries and give him enough time to catch up to the world and breathe. Eventually, he would grab another blanket from the floor and crawl onto the other side of the bed, falling asleep between him and the door, safely guarding him with his broad back and lanky arms. If he had Sirius right now, lying between him and that damned fireplace, he might be able to fall asleep.
Thinking of him made the brisk air of Des’ living room that much colder, and he turned to pull the scratchy blanket closer around him. He left his brother behind much longer ago than his family, and while he regretted it more than anything, he wasn’t sure there was a way to fix it.
-+-
Much later, the smell of warm tea pulled through his body and settled him down into his designated kitchen seat. He had just finished a shitty attempt at a supper, which certainly got an A for effort despite it’s lackluster appearance. If anything, at least he knew how to make a good cup of tea. He ran a tired hand over his face, and rubbed his eyes enough to see white spots.
Desdemonia was usually good about leaving him be, but today she appeared to be in a particularly nosy mood. She propped a hand on her chin, leaning on the dark and lightly scratched wooden table, “Still being kept up at night? You know, it would be best if you nabbed a tea with a bit less caffeine in it, Reg,” she said in a reproving lilt. Warm brown eyes looked him up and down, and the look gave him the feeling that she wanted to pick him apart but stopped herself, if only for his sake. It was a common occurrence between them, but this time her knowing stare pinned him down. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to ask the question sitting in her mind or not.
Something about the afternoon light and thinking about the worn-out subject of his brother made him more open, and he gave in slightly, “I just have a hard time winding down enough to rest,” he paused, considering his words, “I’m not sure why, but I keep thinking she’ll come back.”
She looked surprised at his honest response, and smiled, “Oh that’s only natural, isn't it?”
She sat up from the table to begin folding laundry, ever productive in the easy way she lived her life. Considering what to say next, they sat in silence for a moment.
“Have you thought about talking to Sirius? Of anyone, he would know what to tell you about leaving your family behind, how to move forward with things.”
“I don’t know how, not after everything that’s happened between us.”
“Just talk. It’s never as hard as you think it is,” she answered matter-of-factly, and laughed at his skeptical look. On the one hand, she was probably the most reliable friend he had at the moment, and he desperately wanted to take her advice. On the other hand, what he had experienced through his childhood was so out of the ordinary that he couldn’t help but want to shut her out and claim that she didn’t understand, pushing her further out of the uncomfortable vulnerability of his soul. He sighed, and let the thought ruminate.
He had spent most of his time at Hogwarts with that outlook. Believing that he couldn’t listen to people, couldn’t listen to Sirius, because they didn’t understand the position he was in, his responsibilities to his family and more importantly to himself. The careful and tedious roles he played with every conversation to make sure that everything would go right. Despite all of that, he had come to learn that it didn’t always mean people were wrong with their advice. It just meant that he had to be more patient in understanding it.
He finished his tea, and as he stood to wash the cup she moved forwards to wrap her arms around him in a deep hug. A thousand emotions made themselves known all at once, memories of a mother that should have been and regrets from a brother that wanted to be there more. A few traitorous tears skipped down his face as he crumpled into her warm arms. Des’ tight curls brushed against his face and smelled wintery, like anise. She gave him a tight squeeze, and pulled away.
“Like I said, try decaf you anxious little thing. Goodnight, sleep well,” she said, and lights were turned off unhurriedly. The night was full of familiar linen and quiet chirping of crickets, and for once he slipped into a long, kind sleep.