Chapter 1: The Way to Get There
Chapter Text
Despite James’ best efforts–and Harry’s at that, though Harry didn’t know what they were begging for, even why they were begging–Sirius remained committed to attending his mother’s funeral. It didn’t matter what James asked, or how he pleaded. Sirius, for reasons James was not allowed to know, just kept reiterating he had to do it and it wasn’t optional.
With all the begging, Sirius was distinctly in a strop for the days leading up to the funeral. Sirius switched to a refrain that he didn’t need closure, he was just going for his reputation. James didn’t believe him.
There had been absolutely no reconciliation until Sirius showed up in James’ room, with ties in hand, and without a word started getting James dressed the rest of the way. When James was fully dressed, he broke his silence. “Honestly, how do you still not know how to do your tie up?” Sirius complained, and James huffed quietly.
“Well, I’ve got you, haven’t I? You do ‘em once, I don’t untie them, they’re done,” James looked pleased with his response, but it didn’t make Sirius soften even an ounce.
“What would you do without me?” Unlike some of the times he’d used the phrase, Sirius looked like James’ answer this time could actually make or break their relationship.
“Perish instantly.”
“No. You’re not allowed. Harry needs you.”
“I promise I won’t then. But I’d be lost, Pads, genuinely. So please don’t go anywhere unless you can’t help it.”
“Okay,” Sirius agreed, and James tried to pretend he trusted the soft, wavering tone he had never really heard Sirius use.
“Okay,” James repeated. When Sirius finished his task, James caught both of his hands and squeezed them gently. “It’s going to be okay,” James promised.
“I’ll believe you when this is over,” Sirius agreed. James, after a long deliberation, decided to leave it there. He’d had more than enough time to know when he was losing a battle Sirius had already had in his mind.
James couldn’t remember a time he had ever been in a space quite so extravagant yet dark. He was pretty sure that when he squinted, the ceiling and walls both had gilding. It was so dark, though, that even trying to see a couple feet in front of him resulted in eye strain.
Sirius, despite looking tired, looked like he fit in the halls completely, and he didn’t hesitate as he led James through veritable masses who had all turned up. It reminded James, mildly, of some of the auction halls for particularly rich people that he had seen in films and television programmes.
Sirius’ usual attire having been replaced with a well-fit suit only made the experience that much more surreal, because since Regulus’ departure a decade ago, Sirius had not engaged in any aspect of the potential Lordship, no matter what people around him had done to try and force him to do so, especially as his grandfather was aging rapidly with the fallout with Regulus.
Now, it was evident that they hadn’t needed to bother; there was no risk of Sirius forgetting his manners even in Regulus’ genuine and complete absence.
“Do you want to find someplace to sit and wait?” James asked, when Sirius had made a circuit of the massive room Walburga’s casket was in. Sirius only hesitated around the casket for a half-second before carrying on.
“I need to see who’s here,” Sirius replied with a shake of his head.
“Mr Black, I’m so sorry for your loss,” a woman caught Sirius by the shoulder and he clearly forced himself to pause to thank her through gritted teeth. It set the precedent for what became a rather awkward hunt on Sirius’ part as he searched for someone, but James could only guess based on Regulus’ assertions who that would be.
Sirius was eventually stopped dead in his tracks of attempting to avoid as many people as possible while clearly hunting for someone by nearly literally running into Remus Lupin. The thwack they made as they collided made a stir and caused James to wince.
“I’m terribly sor– Sirius,” Remus looked as if he wanted to bolt, but Severus Snape put his shoulder against Remus’ and it kept that from occurring. It also immediately drew Sirius’ attention.
“What are you doing here?”
James missed whatever Remus was going to go with as a lie–or perhaps truth–because his only option was to make a mad dash for the door he’d just watched Regulus be pulled through without anyone else noticing. He struggled for a moment to find his way forward once he’d passed through the doorway, due to the dimness, but in the end he just headed for a sliver of light, and shoved his way in after Regulus, before slamming the door shut and hoping that had been the correct choice.
Chapter 2: So Much Left to Know
Notes:
same cw applies to the whole fic <3
Chapter Text
Remus Lupin had never disliked having social connections more than he currently did, dressed up in a proper, three piece suit and tie, and trying to pretend he belonged at the funeral of Walburga Black. The main, small consolation was that Severus seemed as utterly uncomfortable as Remus felt. The other consolation was that Regulus didn’t exactly ask this of him regularly or under normal circumstances.
They had been separated from Regulus immediately, but so long as he was still in view, Remus wasn’t overly concerned. That concern was, regrettably, rather immediately replaced with a much more pressing concern: Sirius had spotted them, and Sirius was edging into histrionics about it. He didn’t even blame James for ditching, presumably to swap tasks of ‘Regulus Watching’ with them.
“What are you doing here?” Sirius demanded. “I doubt the old bat invited you, let alone the both of you. Rather cruel joke, this one.”
“No, Regulus invited us,” Severus replied before Remus could respond to Sirius. Sirius looked like he might scream for a moment, before he shut down all of his emotions. It was not unlike when Regulus got overwhelmed.
This did, in retrospect, make sense, given that they had some shared upbringing.
“That’s a worse joke. Regulus is dead.” There was emphasis, but no emotion, behind the statement.
“He’s really very active for someone dead. He hiked what he claims is all of Devon just last week,” Remus forced a dry, amused tone. It didn’t set Sirius any more at ease from the look of it. It took a long, aching moment for Sirius to actually reply to the statement.
“That’s just… Remus, why? I know things went badly, but this is just cruel,” Sirius broke out of the blankness in favour of genuine grief. “Regulus is dead. I know. I’ve seen the proof.”
“What? No, genuinely, Sirius, he’s been staying with us and Mam since last week. When did you get proof?”
“First… around nine years ago. And then… again, a couple of months before Walburga kicked it,” Sirius replied, with some amount of uncertainty. “I don’t trust you. But follow me, it’s better to talk in private if you’re not pranking me. If you are, can you reschedule it? I’m a bit busy today.”
“I give you my word on Hope’s life, we’re here to try and stop anything from going wrong, at the request of one very alive Regulus Arcturus Black,” Severus replied evenly.
“I second that. On my mam’s life. I promise. I wouldn’t if I didn’t have complete and utter confidence that I woke up in the same hotel room as Regulus Arcturus Black this very morning,” Remus didn’t let himself hesitate even though he was still caught on ‘proof’ being an aspect of whatever Bellatrix–presumably–was pulling.
Sirius nodded once before he pivoted on his heel and led the way out of the main hall, into a private study lined floor to ceiling with books.
“Right. So. My brother’s not dead. Convince me. James has been trying, and I have been letting him think he’s succeeding, but I know he’s wrong. So why would you be different?”
“What exactly did you receive as proof that Regulus is dead?”
“Photos. Lots of them. And letters. So convince me what I’ve seen wasn’t real.”
Remus hesitated for a long moment, mostly out of horror.
“This isn’t convincing me!” Sirius snapped, and it was accompanied with a flood of tears. “All these fucking years, you could’ve asked how he was!”
“I knew how he was, Sirius, I’ve seen him every Christmas, most Easters, and most Augusts for the last decade,” Remus replied. “You weren’t exactly talking to me, understandably. I didn’t need to ask you because I could ask him, an arguably more reliable source on his health. Beyond visits, we text. Have you checked your messages from him?”
“Why would I? He’s dead. I’ve seen the proof,” Sirius reiterated. “His number was blocked, anyway.”
“It won’t give old messages, will it?” Remus asked Severus hopefully, but wasn’t overly surprised when Severus shook his head. “Damn.”
“Do you still have the proof?” Severus asked and Sirius genuinely halted, as if surprised Severus was addressing him directly.
“Yes,” Sirius finally admitted after a long moment. “I didn’t know what to do with them. Not with the warning.”
“The warning?” Remus prompted.
“That if I shared them, the same thing would happen to Bellatrix. And the photos, they… they weren’t pretty. It was… a portion of what Regulus said he went through. I don’t think I… at the time… I knew what Rosier did… but I didn’t… I didn’t really understand what… I didn’t understand what Riddle, what Bella herself, I didn’t understand what they’d already done to Reg, let alone what they could do.”
“Bad enough you’d protect Bellatrix even though she hurt Regulus,” Remus murmured, and Sirius nodded miserably.
“The photos went back to when he was just a kid,” Sirius’ voice cracked and Remus itched to reach out. To his surprise, and Sirius’ clear surprise as well, Severus was the one to offer physical comfort in the form of a firm but gentle grip on Sirius’ shoulder.
Severus didn’t manage to say anything, though he opened his mouth a few times, before simply squeezing Sirius’ shoulder in a repetitive pattern.
“Did they do that to you too?” Sirius asked Severus, who Remus would have to commend later for not flinching in response.
“To a much, much lesser extent. I was genuinely a talent grab and… someone more useful for the drug operations. Not willingly, mind, but I was from a poor family and my parents weren’t paying attention so long as I gave them a paycheck.”
Sirius nodded. “You knew? What they did to him back then?”
Severus pursed his lips. “We all did. Rosier had to learn somewhere. Practice, I believe, was what Riddle termed Regulus for Rosier. Behind Regulus’ back, of course.”
“You let him,” Sirius accused but it held no weight.
Severus replied, regardless: “I hardly controlled my own circumstances once we were signed on. I didn’t let anyone do anything, except for Regulus. I never let him alone if he didn’t explicitly send me away. I wasn’t able to prevent anything because I like being alive, but I never made him be alone in the aftermath unless he asked. And sometimes, like how he ended up with you, I acted against what Regulus was asking me to do in his supposed better interests.” Remus had never seen him quite so regretful, and he’d seen him in a stew of misery many times.
“By taking him to hospital,” Sirius looked like he was guessing, but it paid off, because it kept Severus talking.
“By taking him to hospital where they’d contact you and you’d get him out. I’d only just gotten a car, you see. It didn’t last long. It mysteriously and spontaneously combusted the next day. Hence why until Rosier was arrested I was playing nice. Again, I’m quite attached to being alive.”
Sirius’ breath caught, but he visibly suppressed the sob that was trying to escape. “Thank you. I’m sorry you couldn’t save him the last time. Sounds like you protected him more than I ever did.”
“When do you think Regulus died?” Remus interrupted.
“About a month after James found out he quit working with Marlene.”
“Sirius, that was nine years ago. We swear to you on Hope Lupin’s life, we have been in contact with Regulus in the last nine years, regularly.”
“The photos–” Sirius broke off. “I suppose they could’ve staged it if they needed blackmail.”
“We all have them,” Severus murmured, grimly. “If we passed out during… anything. They’d take photos of our many, many deaths.”
“That’s–that’s fucking insane.”
“I didn’t want photos of my actual death ever getting to my mother for the reason you’re currently experiencing.”
“Grief?” Sirius asked in disbelief. “She would’ve gone along with–”
“My father abused her into a lot. She won’t leave him, but at the end of the day, that’s because she’s scared.”
“So you refused to let Evan do that Regulus,” Sirius filled in before nodding slightly. “Let’s say this isn’t a prank. If I walk back into that room, I’ll find my brother?”
“Somewhere, yeah. James is taller, so if we find James, they’re probably together.”
“James is on friendly terms with Regulus?” Sirius looked so taken aback that both Remus and Severus failed at suppressing a genuine look of apology.
“Temporarily at least. I think Regulus is more fond of Harry than he wants to admit.”
“Regulus has met Harry,” Sirius repeated blankly.
“Entirely by accident, but yes. He’s talked to Effie about Harry regularly since he’s been back in the UK. James is taking it surprisingly well, mostly because Regulus cracked the code on what Harry wanted to read about.”
Sirius opened his mouth, closed it, and then looked utterly miserable. “Of course he did. He’s great with kids.” He didn’t even try to hide that he was crying as he turned on his heel and headed off with determination, on a clear mission to find Regulus.
Chapter 3: Found Myself Alone
Notes:
Same CWs apply <3
Chapter Text
Immediately upon entering the funeral venue, Regulus found himself cut off from his moral support. It wasn’t entirely surprising, given that he had been absent for so long, and he’d caused such a stir before he’d left. It was natural that people would want to speak with him, and even more so if there were any who were being paid to try and isolate him, which was never outside of the realm of possibilities.
The hall was familiar, some place he’d spent many gatherings of a variety of kinds, including some strictly illegal ones which he never wanted to relive. Faced with some of the same faces, some who knew none of it, and the looming threat of a likely plot about to unfold, Regulus struggled to hold on to which reality he was, at that very moment, actually navigating, and which role he was meant to be playing.
It was almost a relief when he was finally forced to the eastern exit by a painful grip on his wrist, and appearing from behind him, Bellatrix finally showed her face. She’d done a remarkable job of making herself as traditional looking as possible, including an updo. It meant that until her hand grasped his arm and wrenched him around, Regulus genuinely did not see her coming. It was possibly the first time in his life she had ever managed to catch him genuinely off guard.
“Hello, cousin, coming with me to the other room?” Bellatrix asked with a feigned pleasantness.
“Of course, Bella,” Regulus replied and managed for it to not be through gritted teeth. He didn’t put up a fight as she dragged him away.
“You couldn’t even bother to shave today, Vega? Such a shame. And a suit–not a dress,” Bellatrix looked genuinely upset when they were behind a closed door.
“Regulus, and it’s called ‘personal grooming’, also known as ‘trimming facial hair’, also known as ‘having a beard’, and I think I’d look a bit odd in a dress at this point.”
“Your mother would be ashamed.”
“Well, yes, given she was my entire life. Honestly, Bella, what is this about? You’ve had your fun. Let me go find Sirius and clear up your mess, again,” Regulus put on his best ‘disappointed’ expression and refused to let it so much as quiver.
“It’s not my fun, I’m merely the messenger,” Bellatrix replied with a self-satisfied smile. “And I don’t think you can clean up your own remains, Reggie.”
Regulus had to work not to grimace at the nickname, which changed multiple sounds in his name. “Rex is the usual nickname, if you wish to use one.”
“Yes, dear, I’m sure it is. Now, then… Since you came willingly, my job is easy. I’m just supposed to keep you here for a… shall we say… a talk? Do you understand?” Bellatrix’s eyes were lit with excitement that Regulus was filled with dread to see, especially as she reached out to adjust his suit how she saw fit, wherever she saw fit.
His back had already gone stick-straight when the door opened, but he wasn’t expecting Bellatrix to recoil away from him. The recoil alone snapped him back a couple of paces, so that he could see the two other occupants of the room.
“Okay…” James Potter’s voice sounded like he was trying not to spook Bellatrix further–or perhaps to not spook Regulus, Regulus really wasn’t sure.
In fact, Regulus hardly felt like he existed at the moment, not when he was so filled utterly to the brim with dread that there was no place for his consciousness around it.
“So, what’s going on?” James followed up, as he moved to be between Bellatrix and the door, his eyes darting between Bellatrix and Regulus.
“Now we wait for our Lord and Master,” Regulus replied, dully, as he could only dread whatever outcome James being in the room might have.
“What?”
“Tom Riddle,” Bellatrix’s voice was an awful, grating sing-song. “Would like to have a word with his wayward little bitch.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, are you trying to refer to Regulus? That’s not exactly an accurate label,” James countered, and in a different life, Regulus might have found the attempt endearing. As things stood, it was a mild irritant for him, and only stayed mild because Bella was infuriated.
“No, she’s right. It’s a fair enough descriptor,” Regulus sighed, and settled in to wait. This apparently involved allowing Bellatrix to do whatever she saw fit about his appearance, short of maiming him, which he was certain she would have done if she hadn’t just been told to ensure Regulus wasn’t a threat and relatively attractive–the basics of any meeting with Tom Riddle.
James looked far less comfortable with this situation. There wasn’t very much for Regulus to do or say on that front–James was here voluntarily and could leave voluntarily as well, in theory. In fact, Regulus would prefer if he would simply do that, because it would save them both quite a lot of energy and effort.
In the end, though, it didn't particularly matter for Regulus, because it turned out that Regulus’ decade of running had been from the wrong thing all along.
Chapter 4: Kick Out the Devil's Sin
Notes:
Same CWs apply <3
Chapter Text
While they waited, when Bella was particularly distracted by chastising Regulus, it was comforting to see that James was able to send a singular text. It was, in fact, the only thing Regulus really registered about their environment while they waited for Tom Riddle to show his face. Bellatrix, preoccupied with making both Regulus and herself presentable, didn’t notice the minute gesture, and probably wouldn’t have missed more than that, but James didn’t press it.
When their waiting finally ended, Regulus wished more than ever that he’d just stayed in France, even if it meant he would have ended up running for the rest of his life.
“Hello, Regulus,” Riddle practically purred the greeting, and it was accompanied by a genuine caress to Regulus’ face. He forced himself not to flinch away. Only years of practice actually enabled the feat.
For a brief moment, he toyed with the idea of disobeying, of not responding as he was expected. And yet, despite the fact that James was there, despite all urges to run, to fight, to scream, to do anything but obey, Regulus had no control over the response. In the end, it was practically pavlovian, though Regulus thought he might prefer the concept of visible facial mutilation over the words he couldn’t keep himself from saying.
“My Lord,” Regulus’ head dipped slightly, in an awkward approximation of a bow, the best he could manage while his face was being held.
“We’ve both aged, you and I, haven’t we, Regulus?”
“Such is the order of things, my Lord,” Regulus replied, uncertainly.
“No, it was not meant to be,” Riddle practically crooned the words, and Regulus swallowed harshly. “You should be dead many times over.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“So why are you still alive? Your Lord does not wish it. You know what that means,” Riddle looked saddened by the announcement, but it merely turned Regulus’ stomach. Briefly, he struggled, but Riddle merely clamped his hand down until Regulus had a choice between squirming and injuring his spinal column. When he went still, he was expecting imminent death, and instead Riddle surprised him: “Bellatrix–handle the unintended one.”
As much as he’d been frozen before, Regulus was equally locked out of control before his body was in motion, pushing Riddle away to put himself between Bellatrix and James. He caught a knife to the forearm for his efforts, but Harry’s father was still alive for the moment, and his suit took the brunt of the knife anyway.
Riddle’s response was to simply tut.
“Silly of me, really, I should have anticipated attachment. I thought you’d spent enough time away.”
“You’ll never make me agree with murder, Tom,” Regulus snapped, and Riddle merely chuckled at him as if he were a meddlesome child causing a mild, but amusing hold-up.
“No? I nearly have, before.”
Regulus swallowed around the lump in his throat. Bellatrix tittered with laughter, despite the fact that Regulus was currently preventing her task. “Go on, then, Bella, try again,” Regulus didn’t intend to challenge her, and yet, his mouth moved without his conscious permission.
The knife slammed quite nearly all the way into his shoulder joint, but all components of a full suit buffered the injury just enough that he was able to simply grab the knife from her with his other hand. It only made it as far as it had because Bellatrix had properly thrown herself behind it. Behind him, James’ back hit the wall next to the door, but upon a glance, it was simply James reining in his clear desire to flee. Regulus almost wished he would give in and let Regulus handle it on his own.
The second of distraction was just enough for Bellatrix to pull another knife without Regulus noticing immediately.
“There’s already one corpse, why must we make it more than that, my Lord? Are you sure that’s a fitting punishment for me?” Regulus asked.
The question would have once been taken as insolence, but now Regulus could see that Riddle was actually considering it.
“You can’t be allowed to just wander with your knowledge, Regulus, surely you understand.”
“No, actually, I don’t. I have been ‘wandering’ as you say for nearly a decade. I don’t see why I’d start things up again. I tried. I failed. I learned. I moved on. I just want to see my brother.”
“I cannot trust you, sadly. Bella, try again,” Riddle instructed, and Regulus moved before she had the chance, slashing the wrist of the hand currently holding a knife. It was deep enough that it automatically resulted in her hand spasming, and the second knife clattered to the ground.
“Shit, fuck,” James, suddenly, was able to move at the sight of blood, and inexplicably to Regulus, did so so that he could prevent Bellatrix from bleeding out. At the moment, Regulus was too far from himself to care enough to do it. He was rather surprised Riddle was allowing it.
“You know I hate to get my hands dirty,” Riddle chastised.
“Good thing you could walk away, hands clean, right now,” Regulus replied and couldn’t force it into anything except detached. “But you’d need to take your lap dog with you.”
“And to think, she calls you my bitch.”
“Apologies, let me rephrase, Tom, kindly take your lap dog with delusions of grandeur, and unnecessary jealousy, with you. Or perhaps you prefer your bedmates un willing. There you are, Bella, I’ve solved it for you. Just pretend you hate him, he’ll like you more,” Regulus snapped, and he was stunned when Riddle merely laughed. A second later, Riddle flipped open a switchblade Regulus couldn’t quite remember him drawing. The punishment he’d anticipated would still be dealt, then, just by a less mangled hand than Bella’s currently was.
Regulus desperately wished he could do something other than stand completely still as Riddle moved towards him, and then pressed him backwards towards the wall. Between a body against his and a knife on his cheek, Regulus couldn’t hold onto much of anything at all, even when abruptly the room had significantly more people in it.
At first, it was just his brother, Remus, and Severus. The only thought he had was that he’d really thought he’d had enough of a handle on dissociation to handle things like this. When it shortly after expanded to include actual, uniformed police officers, Regulus lost his tenuous grip on the moment, and dissolved into fragments of himself.
Chapter 5: The Answer Lies Within
Chapter Text
Knitting himself back into awareness was a laborious, lengthy task. He had done it before, but never while feeling quite so locked away due to sheer loneliness. The task meant that Regulus was not truly aware for very much of the next couple of days. What he was aware of was that he nearly stabbed a police officer before they got someone with psychiatric training in to de-escalate the situation. That, and that Sirius was capable of crying essentially indefinitely.
The police interrogation ended for Regulus before everyone else simply because he got placed on a temporary psychiatric hold before he could remember how to talk his way through the mandatory assessment, and they managed to pull up his history and connect the dots enough to let him go. It turned out that " I promise I have only ever attempted to stab people who I mistake for my rapists while my actual rapists are in the room" combined with the failed criminal cases and the other times he had been hospitalised could go a long way. He had full intent never to try it again, nevertheless.
When he was finally freed to the flat that Sirius shared with James and sometimes Harry, with instructions not to leave London as there would be further questioning, Regulus felt wrung out but much more himself. Harry had been sent to his grandparents for a couple of days, and it was probably for the best, because they made a very awkward group at the best of times. Nevertheless, he was saddened to not get to have that type of distraction. A child who just needed people interested in them could do a lot for one’s self esteem.
Currently, with Sirius having just provided ample evidence against Riddle and Bellatrix, and Regulus knowing his brother had had to see such evidence meant things were even more awkward, though. James, Remus, and Severus could only try and navigate around them, not with them. It was better Harry not experience that at all. That didn’t mean Regulus didn’t wish to spend time with a child instead, anyway.
Inevitably, he and Sirius got kicked out to go on a walk together to ‘sort things out’. Regulus thought this was a rather unnecessary way of handling the situation when they clearly just needed time. After all, Sirius had immediately unblocked Regulus’ number when he had confirmation he was alive, and Regulus couldn’t even fault him. If Bellatrix had killed him, there was no doubt she would have taunted Sirius with his phone. No one but him, Sirius, and Severus seemed to understand how that could undo almost a decade of hurt.
James and Remus had both been quite distressed by the concepts and experiences, and Severus was kindly talking them through it, which also felt entirely unnecessary because it seemed so obvious that Regulus couldn’t actually understand why it was surprising or distressing. It was probably best to leave it to the person who had continuous personhood for the events, really.
“Are you leaving again?” Sirius asked, when they’d reached the Thames path, after walking for a long while in utter silence. Regulus didn’t manage a response at first, because he didn’t know how to answer.
“I don’t know,” Regulus finally said. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t. I’m unwell, though, and the last thing I want to do is put that on you.”
“I don’t suppose I could persuade you to do that anyway?”
“No offense, Siri, but the last time I put my complete trust in you went terribly.”
“We’re both older now,” Sirius protested.
“But I don’t feel that way, and I doubt you do either. So, for now, I’d say I’ll probably stay close but not strictly with you. Does that sound acceptable?”
“I’ll take whatever I can get. Regulus… I thought you were dead.”
“No, I’m just an artist. I use a pseudonym in France, which is probably why you didn’t find me. Leo Archambeau. If you want to look me up. I’ll relocate. That was… an offer. Change my appearance, change my name, new life. Since I have a pseudonym no one knows is me already, I’ll just… use that if they’ll let me. We’ll have to be careful, but… no one at the funeral knew who I was, just that I was a Black. I bet if I was a blond or a ginger there’d be far less familial association,” He felt detached from the concept, but Sirius didn’t look like he felt ambivalent by any means.
“You’ve… been doing art,” Sirius whispered after a moment.
“Yes,” Regulus confirmed after a pause to try and figure out what aspect was wrong for Sirius.
“I thought you were dead. Reg, those pictures. Some of them… if he hadn’t signed them, they were really really illegal for me to even have, but he wanted to brag when he sent them. And at the end of the series you looked…”
“Dead. Yes, he did that. Staged deaths, I mean. Never know when you’ll need to blackmail someone’s family,” Regulus managed a slim smile. “It’s okay, Sirius, it’s in the past.”
“Are you, though? How do you grow up to be ‘okay’ with that in your past?”
“Well, I have just been on an involuntary psychiatric hold,” Regulus granted. “But before this whole… affair… I was actually doing exceptionally well on recovery and therapy and such. My past is my past, yes, and I don’t talk about the entirety with anyone, ever, but the good news is that I don’t need to do that in order to do therapy. You should consider that. Therapy, I mean.”
“I’ve been in therapy since the day you originally fucked off to Wales, it just took a while to actually make anything resembling progress and then they faked your death. Then I was making progress, and then I found out you weren’t actually dead, which I was convinced was like… pseudo psychosis, holding onto hope it was lies. Then you came back and I just feel… out of sorts.”
“You might consider different therapy, then. You really should be able to conceptualise a future without PTSD.”
Sirius frowned at him for several minutes before striding ahead and flopping down on a bench. “My life looks like a genuine walk in the park next to yours, kid.”
“It’s not a competition.”
It took several minutes for Regulus to actually force himself to sit down next to Sirius. “Hope and Effie will be coming tomorrow. Are you going to mother-hen me the whole time?”
“I thought we just established you would prefer we have some degree of separation. I’ll respect that.”
“Maybe you can talk to Effie, too. I think you could use it. You can tell her anything you want.”
“What?”
“You held onto those photos and those letters for up to nine years, Sirius. And then you got more. You can talk about it now. You’re not disrespecting me by doing it, I promise.” Sirius’ breath caught, and Regulus pulled him into a tight hug. “I couldn’t do it then, so I’m doing it now. You have permission to talk about how they made you feel, no matter what details about my past they reveal. I literally couldn’t give a fuck about it, but I do give a fuck about you. Do you understand me?”
“J’suis compris,” Sirius replied before hugging him back as if his life depended on it.
The brothers split off, with Regulus taking Hope, and Sirius taking Effie. This lasted approximately an hour, before Sirius declared it time to switch, looking like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
“Let’s take a walk,” Effie suggested, with a smile that only sort of looked forced. Regulus couldn’t blame her; Sirius had lightened his load only by adding to hers.
“I’m sorry for whatever you might know.”
“Now. Whyever are you apologising about that, Regulus?”
“I told him to talk to you, mostly,” Regulus replied, and Effie huffed slightly in response, as if she hadn’t anticipated him doing something like actually responding.
“Fair enough, apology denied, however.”
Regulus shrugged slightly.
“I wanted to know how you feel about what he’s seen–he says your response rattled him.”
“I am… sad that he saw. I was more content with him having only concepts, not actual images.”
“Child pornography,” Effie corrected gently, and Regulus shrugged.
“Sure.”
“Are you able to talk about it?”
“No, but I do do therapy that doesn’t rely on me calling it that, mostly because it has never felt like that to me.”
“What did it feel like?”
“Torture followed by blackmail material generation, which it was used for so I wasn’t wrong.”
“They made you feel ashamed.”
“Well, yes, obviously, Effie, I adore you, but what kind of person do you think creates a series of non-consensual pornography, if you prefer the word, and doesn’t make their victim feel ashamed?”
Effie clenched her hands together and bowed her head before nodding. “Sirius is right, you’re several steps ahead of both of us on processing this one.”
“Well, yes, I’ve had since the first photograph to start doing that. You’ve had either nearly a decade or in your case an hour. Naturally I, the person in the photos, who has been in therapy about this issue for a decade, will be ahead of you in processing it.”
His response made Effie laugh, though he genuinely couldn’t comprehend why.
“Promise me something, Regulus?”
“Anything.”
“Should you find that despite that fact you need someone to listen, you’ll remember I’m happy to support you however I can?”
“I will, Effie, I promise.”
At the end of Regulus’ last day staying with James and Sirius, he and Sirius ended up sleeping in Sirius’ bed, like they had when Regulus had lived with him.
“I promise I’m not leaving permanently this time. We’ll go to therapy together. We’ll figure it out.”
“You’re going away for at least a few weeks, maybe up to a year, though,” Sirius pointed out. “And then coming back in a way I don’t know, as a–a person I don’t know. As a stranger.”
“Not to you. Never to you. We’ll meet accidentally, but we’ll meet again, and we’ll be friends.”
“But not brothers anymore,” Sirius whispered.
Regulus couldn’t argue it, really, since legally they wouldn’t be. “I don’t have to, if you’d rather I just go to Wales and hope for the best. And I feel like we’ll still be brothers, though I understand why you might not.”
“I’d rather you change everything and still go to Wales, or France, for that matter. And then I’ll come find you.”
“I’m getting some mixed messages, I have to be honest.”
“Do whatever the pigs, or spooks, or whoever is handling this now, tells you is best, okay? Just tell me before you go.”
“You got it, Siri. And I’ll text you so please don’t block my new number.”
“Never again, I cross my heart.”
Notes:
Almost at the end now, lovelies xx
Chapter 6: Why Not Take a Look?
Notes:
Actually I don't know any CWs apply. This is just the "and they all lived mostly happily ever after (AND GOT THERAPY)"
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In the end, it was nearly a year before Regulus –now legally Leo – was able to see his brother again. And, for safety, it was from Scotland, where he had not recently been seen by his original chosen name. A modest art show to create a false trail for his newly chosen name was an easy enough invitation to send Sirius.
What was truly impressive was that his brother had now walked by him three times and not stopped once. James Potter had managed to do it twice as well. Remus, even, had done it once. But the person who actually properly identified him was Severus. It was oddly fitting–the person who had seen the most of him against both of their wills was also the one who could see through hair dye, contacts, and a bit of minor facial reconstruction.
“Your art is quite beautiful,” Severus’ voice was louder than usual, in part to get at least Remus’ attention. “I’m a great fan, Monsieur Archambeau,” Severus added, and it was with no small amount of humour.
“Ah, thank you. Please, call me Leo, Monsieur…?” Regulus trailed off in clear question.
“Call me Severus,” Severus skipped his surname entirely, and Regulus grinned in response.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Severus. Which piece is your favourite?” He gave Remus precisely thirty seconds before ‘accidentally’ bumping into him. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Are you alright?”
“Ah, this is my partner, Remus,” Severus jumped in. “Are you alright, Rémi?”
“I’m fine, it’s a pleasure to meet the artist behind these beautiful paintings,” Remus pretended at wide-eyed awe, an emotion which from Regulus’ perspective had to have some genuine awe behind it. “Despite the self portrait, I would not have recognised you.”
“James, it’s the artist!” Sirius’ voice was not as intentionally loud as Severus’ had been, but it was pretty close. “Excuse me, I’m sorry for interrupting, but can I get a second signature on a painting? In tribute to uh–” Sirius’ act faltered under sudden genuine emotion. “In tribute to my late brother? I have one of your paintings, of the constellation Leo, and while it has your normal signature, it would really mean a lot to me if you could make it out to him.”
To Regulus’ astonishment, it was a painting that he had left in Roscoff, Brittany, in the care of an elderly woman. “Is the original owner of this well?”
“Yes, she was displaying it in her restaurant. I asked if I could buy it, because his name, you see, was Regulus.”
Regulus smiled. “I’d be happy to oblige your request. Would you mind terribly if I took it with me and we met up, so that I can do him justice with the modification?”
“That would be… fantastic, yes,” Sirius jumped slightly when James elbowed him to get him to agree. “I can give you my mobile number?”
“I’ll add you on WhatsApp,” Regulus confirmed, and Sirius’ grin was massive. Only once the digital connection was established did the painting actually get handed over.
Regulus moved forward with modifying the painting and arranging a drop off with his brother somewhere near, but not exactly in, where Severus had grown up, simply because it was a half-way point on the train between Edinburgh and London. It was not the most convenient meet up, but it was certainly better than one of them thinking the other was dead while the other thought they were blocked.
For the first time, Regulus could stop running, because this time, there was no one to actually chase him. All of the risks posed were merely theoretical. Even with an odd commute to a miserable town in the Midlands and only occasional holidays from the relative safety of Scotland, he had to admit it was nice to not be running from something he was ignoring.
Notes:
And there you have it folks. That’s the series. Even the prequel was reworked to work as a completed work <3
Shout out to Yusuf/Cat Stevens for a great album to work with for a random song/band fic that started when I was at a very low place, and while it has been hit hard with the writer’s curse, I’m significantly better than when I started it. #TherapyHelps (so does my beta reader who is now also my LEGALLY WEDDED HUSBAND, MoorMage14).