Chapter Text
CHAPTER ONE:
The Black family mansion was silent, the kind of silence that hung heavy in the air, suffocating every bit of warmth from the room. Regulus sat at the long dining table, his fingers tracing patterns into the polished wood, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hear his own shallow breaths, the distant ticking of the grandfather clock, and the metallic clink of silverware being placed gently on porcelain plates. But the silence wasn’t peaceful—it was foreboding.
Across from him sat Sirius, his older brother, with his head held high but his body tense. Even from this distance, Regulus could sense it—Sirius was nervous. Not that he’d ever admit it. But ever since his sixteenth birthday a week ago, when Sirius presented as an Omega…everything had changed.
In the Black household, an Omega was synonymous with weakness, with shame. Especially for a boy. Especially for the heir that was supposed to uphold the family’s pure Alpha lineage. Sirius had never fit their parents' mold of perfection, but presenting as an Omega had been the final straw.
Regulus had always known what their mother was capable of. She had inflicted her cruelties on Sirius for years, punishing him, breaking him down. He had tried to shield Regulus from the worst of it, playing the part of the rebellious older brother, while Regulus had been the obedient ‘perfect child.’ But that hadn’t been enough to stop their mother’s wrath. And now, with Sirius having presented as an Omega… Regulus felt sick with dread.
The room was oppressively quiet, with their mother and father seated at either end of the table. Regulus’ stomach churned as he watched his mother’s fingers tap rhythmically on the edge of her glass. It was only a matter of time before she made her move.
Sirius kept his gaze forward, jaw clenched, trying to appear unaffected, but Regulus knew better. He could feel the unease radiating off of him, and it made Regulus’ chest tighten. He wanted to say something, to warn Sirius, but what could he say? What could he do? Any words of caution would fall flat. They hadn’t spoken properly in years, not since their mother had twisted them against each other, making sure their loyalty was only to her.
“Dinner was... adequate,” their mother said, her voice cold and sharp as a blade, breaking the silence. She set down her silverware with a deliberate clink, and Regulus’ pulse quickened. This was it.
Sirius stiffened but said nothing. He always knew better than to respond to their mother’s backhanded compliments.
Their mother’s eyes flickered to Sirius, and the tension in the room thickened. "Sirius," she said slowly, her voice dripping with cruel amusement, "come with us."
Sirius didn’t move at first. Regulus’ heart stopped. No. He knew what this meant. This wasn’t a casual request. Their mother’s Alpha voice had a sharp edge to it, one that even Sirius couldn’t resist.
"Now," she added, her voice commanding.
Regulus saw the flicker of panic in Sirius’ eyes, but his brother stood, obediently, against his own will. Regulus’ heart twisted painfully at the sight of his fearless, rebellious brother submitting like this. It wasn’t Sirius. It couldn’t be.
Sirius followed their parents without a word, his steps unnaturally stiff, robotic. They were leading him to their bedroom—Regulus knew it. His blood ran cold. He had seen this before, heard the whispers, felt the undercurrent of horror that lived in these walls. When their parents punished, they did it thoroughly. And cruelly.
Regulus’ hands trembled as he clenched them in his lap. His throat was dry, and he felt sick with helplessness. He should have warned Sirius earlier. Should have told him not to provoke them, should have—
The door shut behind his parents with a resounding click, and the lock slid into place.
Regulus’ heart pounded in his ears. His mouth opened, but no words came out. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t storm in there. He couldn’t stop them.
From his seat at the table, he strained to listen, every muscle tense. The silence on the other side of the door was unbearable. Then, he heard it—a muffled command in their father’s Alpha voice, low and sinister. He couldn’t make out the words, but the tone sent a shiver down his spine. He knew they were taunting Sirius, controlling him with their Alpha commands.
Forcing him to comply.
Regulus gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. He couldn’t bear this. Not again. Not after all those years of watching Sirius take the brunt of their parents’ abuse. He had to do something—anything. But he was frozen. Trapped in his own fear.
Please, don’t hurt him, Regulus thought desperately. Please, not this time.
But deep down, he knew the truth. Sirius was their target. He always had been. And Regulus... Regulus could do nothing but sit there, as his brother was led to slaughter. The heavy weight of guilt pressed against his chest, suffocating him.
He hadn’t saved Sirius then. He couldn’t save him now.
And it tore him apart.
The dining room was cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and refused to let go. Regulus sat frozen, his breath shallow as the sound of footsteps echoed from down the hall. His parents had taken Sirius behind that door—locked it, as they always did—and Regulus knew, with a sinking dread, what was about to happen. He’d seen it before. Heard it. Felt the weight of it pressing down on his soul.
But this time, it was worse. This time, Sirius was different. An Omega.
And their parents’ fury had reached a boiling point.
The first crack of the whip echoed like a thunderclap through the walls. Regulus flinched, his whole body recoiling at the sickening sound of leather meeting skin. His eyes squeezed shut, but it didn’t stop the images from flooding his mind. Sirius, his proud, defiant brother, forced to his knees, gasping in pain as their parents punished him in the most brutal, twisted way possible.
Then came the sobs.
Sirius never cried. Never. Not in front of them. But now, his broken gasps filtered through the cracks in the door, and Regulus’ heart shattered into pieces. He could imagine the welts on his brother's shoulder blades. The blood dripping down his back. Tears welled in Regulus' eyes, spilling over silently as he pressed his trembling hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. All he could hear was Sirius suffering, and the knowledge that this was his fault burned inside him like poison.
Every crack of the whip was a fresh wound on Regulus’ heart. They were hitting him longer than they ever had before—punishing him with a fury that could only come from years of resentment. Sirius had protected Regulus from this kind of pain for as long as he could remember. It was always Sirius, stepping into the line of fire, drawing their parents’ attention, taking the beatings and the punishments so that Regulus wouldn’t have to.
And now, Sirius was paying for all of it. For every rebellious act. Every defiant word.
Regulus could only sit there, helpless, as his brother suffered for him.
“Stop,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please… stop.”
But the door remained closed, the whip cracking again. And again. And again. Sirius’ broken sobs echoed through the walls, his gasps growing more frantic, more desperate with each passing moment. Regulus’ vision blurred with tears, his body trembling as the sounds of his brother’s pain ripped through him like knives. He clutched the table for support, his knuckles turning white, but it was no use. He was drowning in helplessness.
The door behind him creaked open, and Regulus didn’t even register the soft footsteps until strong arms wrapped around his trembling shoulders. Barty, Evan, and Regulus’ boyfriends had arrived.
“Reg…” Evan’s voice was low, filled with concern. “What’s happening?”
Regulus couldn’t speak. He could only shake his head as another whip cracked, followed by a gut-wrenching cry from Sirius. His boyfriends’ expressions darkened as they pieced together what was happening, the realization sinking in like a cold wave. Without hesitation, they pulled Regulus into their arms, holding him tight, whispering soft reassurances into his ear, but none of it helped. None of it could dull the horror unfolding behind that door.
“He’s my brother,” Regulus choked out, his voice broken. “I can’t—he’s only suffering because of me. They’re—”
“Shh, Reg,” Barty murmured, pressing his lips to Regulus’ hair. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”
But Regulus couldn’t believe him. He had always believed the lies their mother had fed him, always let her turn him against Sirius. And now, when it mattered most, he was powerless to stop her. His tears fell faster, staining his cheeks as his boyfriends tried to soothe him, but nothing could ease the growing dread in his chest.
Then, it happened. The one word Regulus had feared, the one spell that sent ice shooting through his veins.
“Crucio!”
His mother’s voice rang out, sharp and full of rage, and Sirius’ screams—his raw, agonized screams—filled the air.
Regulus’ entire body went rigid. His heart stopped beating. For a moment, the world itself seemed to stop. Then, with a strangled cry, he leaped from his seat, rushing toward the door. His hands slammed against the heavy wood, fists pounding desperately as he sobbed.
“STOP! Please, stop !” Regulus screamed, his voice hoarse, his fists banging against the door with everything he had. “You’re killing him! Mum! Stop hurting him, please!”
But there was no response. Only more screams. Sirius’ screams.
Regulus collapsed against the door, his sobs uncontrollable now, his forehead pressed to the cold wood. His boyfriends rushed to his side, pulling him into their arms, but nothing could silence the sound of Sirius’ suffering. Nothing could stop the guilt from tearing Regulus apart from the inside.
And behind that door, his brother was being tortured. And there was nothing—nothing—that Regulus could do to save him.
Sirius’ screams stopped suddenly, cutting through the silence like a knife. The abrupt quiet was worse than the screams—it was suffocating.
Regulus’ heart raced as the door flew open, and there stood his mother, her face cold and expressionless as though nothing had transpired. Walburga Black was always composed, always in control, and now she looked upon her youngest son and his boyfriends with that same eerie calm.
“Out,” she said, her voice sickly sweet, but it carried an unmistakable weight of command. “This is family business.”
Barty, Evan, and the others hesitated, looking between Regulus and Walburga with concern in their eyes. But they knew better than to argue. Slowly, reluctantly, they began to move toward the door, their gazes lingering on Regulus, silently offering their support before they left.
“Go,” Regulus whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I’ll find you later.”
With tight nods, they turned and left, the door clicking shut behind them. The house seemed to grow even colder in their absence.
Regulus’ gaze snapped to his father, Orion, who emerged from the bedroom where Sirius had been locked. His father stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his face set in a stern, disapproving scowl. He didn’t even look at Regulus as he spoke, his words aimed directly at Sirius, who was still inside.
“You have two hours,” Orion said, his voice void of any emotion. “Two hours to pack your things and get the hell out of this house.”
Regulus’ heart skipped a beat. They were kicking him out. Disowning him.
A wave of relief crashed over him so forcefully that he felt dizzy. Sirius was leaving. He wouldn’t have to endure this anymore. He wouldn’t have to suffer in this house under their parents’ control. Sirius was finally free.
Without a second thought, Regulus ran into the bedroom.
What he saw nearly shattered him.
Sirius was curled up on the floor, his body trembling, his face pale and streaked with sweat and tears. His shirt had been torn in the whipping, and his back was marred with welts and bruises from where the whip had slashed his skin. His once-strong hands were limp, raw, and bleeding from where they’d been struck over and over again. But it was the vacant, haunted look in Sirius’ eyes that tore Regulus’ heart to pieces.
“Sirius,” Regulus whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he knelt beside his brother, cradling his head in his lap. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
Sirius didn’t respond, his breaths shallow and erratic as his eyes fluttered shut. His body trembled uncontrollably, as though the remnants of the Crucio still pulsed through his veins, tearing him apart from the inside. Regulus’ vision blurred with tears as he stroked his brother’s hair, whispering soft, soothing words, trying to comfort him, trying to ground him.
“Shh… it’s over now,” Regulus murmured, his voice trembling. “They’re done. You’re safe. You’re getting out of here, Sirius. You’re never coming back.”
Sirius let out a broken sob, his body curling tighter into Regulus’ lap. Regulus’ chest tightened painfully as he looked down at his brother’s hands, covered in cuts and bruises from the brutal whipping. Without another word, Regulus gently took Sirius’ hands, holding them as delicately as he could. He winced at the sight of the deep, red gashes marring his skin, each one a reminder of the torment Sirius had just endured.
“I’m going to fix this,” Regulus whispered, his throat tight. He reached for the medical supplies he kept stashed in his room, disinfecting Sirius’ wounds with care, his hands shaking as he worked. Sirius flinched at the sting but didn’t pull away, too exhausted to fight. Regulus continued in silence, bandaging his brother’s hands with meticulous care, trying to block out the image of his parents standing over Sirius with the whip.
Once the bandages were secured, Regulus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ fragile frame, lifting him gently. Sirius was surprisingly light—too light—his body limp in Regulus’ arms as he carried him to his childhood bedroom. The room was filled with memories of the two brothers before everything had gone wrong, before their family had torn them apart.
Gently, Regulus laid Sirius down on the bed, pulling the blankets over his shivering form. Sirius’ face was pale, his skin clammy, and Regulus knew that even though the physical pain had subsided, the damage the Cruciatus Curse had done was still coursing through his brother’s body. The curse had flooded his bloodstream with dark magic, poisoning him from the inside out.
Sirius let out a soft groan, his body twitching as another aftershock of pain wracked through him. Regulus bit his lip, his heart aching as he watched his brother suffer, unable to do anything to take away the pain. Dark magic was coursing through his veins, torturing him after the spell had finished. Healers called it a wizard's Dark Magic Blood Level. If a wizard's blood was poised by dark magic, they could perish within hours.
“I’ll get you help,” Regulus said softly, sitting beside Sirius, brushing his damp hair away from his face. “Your DMBL it’s too high. We’ll get it filtered. We’ll get the black magic out of your veins. You’ll be okay, Sirius. I swear.”
Sirius didn’t respond, his eyes half-open, his breaths shallow. But Regulus knew he was listening. Knew that, in some small way, his brother was still there, still fighting.
“You’re going to be free,” Regulus whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to Sirius’ forehead. “You’re never coming back to this place. I promise.”
And for the first time in years, Regulus allowed himself to hope.