[ regulus pulls away a bit, but just enough to turn over, which is acceptable. sirius is on his side, and he remains there, one arm crooked beneath his head for support. and at last he opens his eyes, watching his brother from beneath heavy eyelids, still and solemn as the glassy surface of a lake. the room is still dim, lit only by what dawn light can filter through the heavy, dusty curtains, but it's enough to see by.

sirius is quiet for a few long moments, his expression tight and hard. there's really nothing that kreacher could really do to ever endear himself to sirius; they're old enemies, and they always will be, it's doubtful that anything will ever reconcile them. but.. ]

Doesn't matter, how I feel about him. He was there for you when - [ it's hard to voice, he's ashamed, but sirius pushes the words out anyway. ] - when I wasn't. And good thing he was, too.

[ because it wasn't sirius that saved his brother, it was that damnable elf, but even sirius can admit that that's a debt he can never repay. after a moment, sirius uncurls one hand to run his fingers gently through regulus' dark, messy hair, slow and soothing, back and forth. ]

But he's still here.