3Broomsticks, a mingle meme

[madam_rosmerta]

THREE BROOMSTICKS: A MINGLE MEME After a long day, you find yourself tired, achey, in desperate need of a drink, and maybe even a pillow to rest your head on. Three Broomsticks is a warm refuge from the freezing cold snow gusting outside. "Welcome to the Three Broomsticks, luv! What can I get for you?" Madam Rosmerta is bright and cheery, heralding the bar where a number of wizards are already seated, wetting their whistles with ale or butterbeer. INSTRUCTIONS 1. Post with your character, noting their name/canon in the subject, and any preferences. 2. Roll a number and tag out to others. 3. Profit. TIMELINE a) NORMAL. It's just another day in your character's life. Nothing to see here. b) TIME HAS NO MEANING. Obligatory option to allow the different generations to interact. Is your character part of the younger crowd, and you always wanted an opportunity to thread with their parents? Maybe now, with the aid of a Time-Turner, you can make it happen! c) MISC. Make something up. It could be an AU universe where anyone from anywhere can be dragged into the Three Broomsticks. Parents or children can be your character's classmate or colleague, instead. The dead never died. Those from other worlds can have an established life, here. OPTIONS 01. PARTY ANIMAL. You're drunk, rowdy, and ready to have a good time. Did you receive good news? Crashing someone's get-together? Meeting up at the Three Broomsticks after work with your crew? Stopping by after watching the Quidditch World Cup? Who cares, let's shake things up (just be sure to give Rosmerta a good tip before you go.) 02. GOSSIP AND RUMORS. Drunks are always easy to coax into sharing the latest gossip in the wizarding world. The warm setting makes it even easier to get someone to open up to you, or for you to blab to someone else. 03. SCHEMING. There's a war going on, don't you know? Careful what you say during a meeting, you don't know who might be eavesdropping. Are you undercover? Trying to stay under the radar, whether it's the Ministry's, Order's, or a Voldemort-sympathizer on your tail? 04. LONER. There's no such thing as being alone here. Your character might not want the company, but company's coming anyway, pal. 05. THE DATING LIFE. Why would you think bringing your date here is a good idea? It's loud and rowdy, and you're sure to have someone crash into your intimate moment. Maybe that's a good thing, depending on who you're here with. Are you the crasher, or the crashee? 06. FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT. Here we go. It's inevitable for some drunk to get a little too rowdy. Are you that drunk? The one on the receiving end? Are you giving poor Rosmerta a hand by breaking up the debacle? Or you could be the one who is helping the poor soul who got clobbered. Yikes, that'll leave a shiner. 07. FRISKY. When the booze is flowing, there's always a chance for someone to get hot and bothered. Did someone catch your eye at the bar? Flirting up a storm with your date? With a little liquid courage, you too can admit your eternal feelings for that one person... even if they're a sworn enemy. Take it upstairs, you crazy kids. 08. SPIKED DRINK. Didn't your mama ever tell you to keep an eye on your drink? Now look what's happened, you drank something you weren't supposed to! Are you the poor sap who got hit with a love potion, some luck, or are you suddenly sporting some rainbow-colored hair? Go crazy with the results! 09. FIRST MEETING. Everyone's got to meet for the first time at some point. Maybe you get along asap. Or it could take you some time to warm up to each other. Are you coworkers, and this is your way of extending the olive branch after a job gone good or bad? Maybe you need something from this person. 10. WILDCARD. Choose any option above, or make up your own scenario.

Comments

[thedogfather]

[ right away, sirius' senses sharpen and his eyes narrow; there's far more to it than what regulus is telling him, and immediately sirius feels a clutching in his gut, something cold and misgiving squeezing at his insides. it's a terrible feeling.

he'll push. but not right now. food first, and a bit more time for regulus to decompress before sirius is railroading him with questions. reckless and wild and forward as he is, sirius has grown at least a little bit of patience since they were younger, and it has its limits, but he'll let it go for now.

.. just for a little while.

sirius glances over his shoulder at regulus once or twice as he works, but more or less he leaves his brother to his work, and works on putting together something of a stew from the canned meats and vegetables and broths he's recovered from the pantry. it's not going to be anything gourmet, but it'll be edible, at least. might be better with some rice or pasta to pour over it, but they're fresh out of that for the moment; if reggie's going to be living here a bit more permanently, he supposes they'll need to get him stocked up.. ]

Order up.

[grayblack]

[Good timing, just as Regulus has finished cleaning the table to a polished shine and the last of the dust is off the benches. Meals are few and far between, he makes do with what he can find and he'd been planning on eating at the Three Broomsticks but hadn't got round to it yet, so the scent of whatever Sirius has found to put into the stew is making him almost a little lightheaded.

It's also a good excuse to put off talking a little longer. They are neither of them strangers to silence during dinners, either because there was nothing they were allowed to discuss or because neither of them bothered to try getting a word in edgewise over their parents, but this silence doesn't have that same icy blanket to it. It's almost comfortable. Half of Regulus' first bowl disappears within a minute before he makes himself slow down and savor. It's more than just edible, considering Sirius had patched it together from what he'd found.

Once he's halfway through his second bowl, he sets his spoon down and props his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them, and looks over at Sirius.]

I'm sorry I didn't tell you.

[thedogfather]

[ sirius cocks a brow at regulus as he eats, at how quick he is to scarf it down and go for seconds, and he doesn't say anything, but he's wondering what that means, how long he's been hiding, running. it's worrisome.

he's eating now though, at least, so there's that. and sirius will keep stuffing him full of food as long as he needs to. he only eats one bowl himself, doesn't need more than that, but he takes his time with it, so they're more or less finished around the same time. sirius wipes his mouth on the back of his knuckles because he's a well-bred, aristocratic boy of course, then pushes the bowl aside and crosses his arms casually over the tabletop, leaning his weight onto them.

he doesn't get the chance to even ask anything however, before regulus is apologizing, and sirius is silent, for a moment, his gaze dropping to the table while he tries to gather his thoughts. ]

Me too.

[ he says, finally, and normally it might sound scathing, but sirius' voice is soft and low. he is sorry. sorry he didn't know sooner. he could have helped. sorry he didn't try harder, work harder. he's sorry about a great deal of things.

rubbing a hand over his face, sirius exhales then lifts his eyes to regulus' face again, and they're sharp, intense, focused. ]

But you'll tell me now. What are we up against, here?

[grayblack]

[It's still difficult to even think about for too long, he's seen the Dark Lord pull thoughts from the heads of people who aren't even there. His fingers twist around each other, find a loose thread on the edge of the arm wraps and worry at it, and he looks at that instead of at Sirius.]

I-I don't know how to start. I don't know how...I don't know if you'll believe me and you need to believe me, Sirius.

[There's a lot in his eyes when he looks up again, a hunted expression of mistrust, because what reason would Sirius have to believe him? They've been on opposite sides since Regulus was eleven. But this is still Sirius, still his brother who stormed through a crowded pub to drag him home, a place he hates, because he'd known it was where Regulus needed to be.

He takes a breath and folds his hands tightly.]

I did almost die. Everyone...they all think I'm dead. Everyone else. They don't know what I've done. He doesn't know that I know, not yet. I'm sorry, I haven't needed to talk very much since the cave. [He can tell his words are running all over the place, and his hands would be flying with gestures too if he wasn't keeping them still.] He can make horcruxes. He has. I learned about one.

[thedogfather]

[ sirius knows quite well that he's a bit of a prat when it comes to listening. he usually needs time, time to process and cool off before he's really ready to absorb things he doesn't want to hear. but he'd processed it all long ago, when he first began to realize he was losing his brother to his parents, that regulus was slipping away and there wasn't a single damned thing he could do about it. he's raged already, they've fought, rowed, screamed, and it's over, it's in the past.

grieving regulus' presumed death - it sort of put things in perspective, when you feel like you've gotten a second chance. sirius is ready to listen, open-eared and waiting. ]

So you were -

[ - really one of them, he means to say, but doesn't finish. it was a presumption, really, assuming that regulus had really become a fully fledged death eater, not simply a supporter of the cause. he'd known it, they'd both known he knew it, but still somehow knowing it for certain hurts. sirius can't help but feel like he'd failed. he'd been too damned self-absorbed, too defiant and willful. he'd given up too soon, should have tried harder to pull his brother out of the fire.

sixteen. he was sixteen. a bloody child.

sighing hard, sirius scrubs his hands over his face, and keeps his thoughts behind his teeth. there are more important things to discuss. ]

Horcrux?

[grayblack]

I—oh. [Regulus pauses, thrown for a moment by the question, horcruxes are all he's been thinking about since the moment Kreacher had said the word and Regulus had realized the awful depth of truth behind it. He forgets sometimes that it's a secretive branch of Dark magic, even from most Dark wizards. And Sirius has always gone out of his way to avoid any trace of darkness on him.

He's still shining with that now, almost glowing with his determination to do right. He thinks he's imagining the burn of the Mark on his arm, the sinuous movement, the way it twines through him inside. He imagines a lot of things.]

He's cut off a part of his soul and put it into an object. He can't die.

[Then he reaches up to his neck and tugs on a silver chain, and pulls a green and silver necklace out from beneath his shirt.]

If I don't kill this, he won't die. He doesn't know I have it. No one knows except Kreacher, no one.

[thedogfather]

[ sirius is quizzical, but the moment regulus starts to explain he feels a heavy stone drop into his gut.

it's.. it's barbaric in a way that sirius doesn't have words for. he's seen a lot of terrible things since voldemort began to rise, he's heard stories, seen deaths, tortures, watched the wizarding world break apart in ways he never could have imagined. voldemort is unclean, he's disgusting, abhorrent, and yet somehow this seems too far even for him.

he's severed his own soul? is there anything more.. more base than that? more wrong? just the thought of it is enough to make sirius tense up, and his hands resting on his own forearms bunch in his sleeves, like he's hearing nails on a chalkboard. it's a crime against the natural world, it is, and when regulus pulls the chain from under his robes sirius is staring at it like it's the most repulsive thing he's ever seen. ]

That's..

[ merlin's beard, even the implication of a horcrux aside, the idea that it somehow makes voldemort invulnerable is even more terrifying. sirius drags a hand over his mouth, thumb rubbing against the scruff on his jaw. ]

.. is that the only one?

[grayblack]

I don't know.

[He stares at the locket, turning it over in his fingers. It's heavier than it should be. When it hangs around his neck (and it always hangs around his neck) the world is darker and more full of shadows than he knows it is. He avoids people at the best of times, and that's only been made easier with this. People avoid him now.

He lets the locket fall against his chest, against his heart, and laces his fingers again, twists them, picks at the loose thread along the wraps, watching as he pulls slowly and it unravels stitch by stitch by stitch.]

I don't think so. He doesn't do things that way. He's. Careful.

[And yes, it's said with the quiet confidence of someone who's watched him do things.]

[thedogfather]

Okay. [ he says, not feeling okay at all, but trying to keep it together, because like it or not, this is the truth of it. ] Okay.

[ he'd asked for this, he knows. like ripping off a bandaid, he'd needed to know, needed to hear the worst of it, to know exactly what they're up against because sirius had never really been the sort to hide from the things that intimidate him. better to know exactly what they're facing, in all of its ugliness.

he hadn't tried hard enough to protect regulus before, he's not going to blow this second chance. ]

Guessing you don't know how to get rid of it?

[ if he did, he might not still be carrying it around, right? ]

[grayblack]

I don't. I can't find...I've tried. So many things.

[And for a moment the sheer exhaustion leaches through as Regulus closes his eyes, scrubbing his fingers through his hair as he bows his head, stretching his neck. He's been on the move with it, trying something new to destroy it every time he has a chance, stopping only long enough for a few hours' restless sleep at a time, here and there a full night.

He'd even spent an afternoon in a forge, pumping the coals to white and staring as the necklace just. Sat there. Still cool to the touch when he'd finally pulled it back out. Laughing at him. Whispering.]

It whispers. All the time. It never stops.

[thedogfather]

[ sirius doesn't know the first bloody thing about horcruxes, how they function, what sort of area of effect they might give off, what sort of influence they might have on their bearers. he wouldn't think the pull could be that strong - how potent could one shard of one man's soul be?

but voldemort is no ordinary man, and hatred is like a poison, it seeps into everyone and everything around it, creeping like ivy, difficult to exterminate. whatever the case, it's clearly affecting regulus in some way, and sirius can't help but worry. he loves his brother, and he's so incredibly proud of him for doing what he's done, for turning away from voldemort where others are too terrified to, but regulus has always been.. the softer of the two of them. more easily persuaded, more malleable. it's what got him into this mess in the first place. sirius can't help but be concerned that the hideous thing might be weighing on him a bit more than it might others. ]

Well, you're not on the run anymore.

[ he says, succinctly, making the assumption that this arrangement isn't temporary. as far as sirius is concerned, they're sticking together, there's no running anymore. he'd already been considering offering this place up to the order, anyway; it's his now, for better or for worse, might as well do some good with it. with the right protections, it'd be impenetrable even to voldemort himself, even on top of its already incredible amount of protective spells and charms already on it. save hogwarts itself, sirius doubts there's any safer place in britain. ]

You should take it off for awhile.

[grayblack]

[His hands go to the locket immediately, fingers wrapping around the sharp-edged glass and metal. He never takes it off, not unless he's going to try (again) to destroy it (and fail) (again), but. It's heavy. It's heavy, and he's heavy, the food and the familiarity of home making him slow and warm. Safe.

He can't stay, he can't stay long in any one place, he can't risk being found, but.

There's a tremor in his hands when he slides them up the chain, and it almost seems to weigh itself more, the chain pressing links into the back of his neck as he lifts, drags, pulls it off and lets it fall to the table with a dull thud much louder than something of its size ought to have.]

...don't touch it. I don't want it to hurt you.

[Moving fast, sharply fast, Regulus gets a dusty rounded glass cover, the type that should have a cake beneath it, and covers the hissing, whispering thing a little more firmly than necessary.]

[thedogfather]

[ sirius watches the thing, how it eerily resists being removed, the too-heavy sound it makes when it falls against the table, and even after it's trapped beneath the bell cover sirius still stares at it, aggravated and repulsed, like it's a snake reared to strike.

he isn't worried about touching it. for better or for worse, sirius black is a bull-headed, stubborn creature, resistant to outside influence, and regulus was able to carry it safely enough - but he's got no desire to touch the thing, anyway.

he hates its presence, though, and after a tense few moments he tosses his linen napkin over the glass cover for good measure, because it feels like the damned creepy thing is watching them. ]

You shouldn't need to wear it all the time. Not while we're here.

[ rubbing at his chin, sirius lapses into thoughtful silence, and after a few moments he speaks again. ]

You should let me put it in the safe.

[ there are upsides to being the heir to a very old, very secretive, very dark family. now that their parents are gone, the full knowledge of this place has been passed on to sirius. he knows all of its secrets, every inch of grimmauld place from top to bottom. there are hidden places only he can find and access, places anyone would be hard pressed to find. it would be unwise to leave the horcrux unattended and unprotected, but so long as they're going to be in the house.. ]

[grayblack]

[Now that it's off him, it's like breathing in the first breeze of spring, crisp and sweet. Regulus sits again, suddenly drained and a little hollow, but lighter, so much lighter. He already can't bear the thought of putting it on again, letting it weigh him down, cut into him, whisper. He can't hear it anymore.

Still staring at the cloth, he nods.]

I will. We should. Until we...

[He trails off and looks up at Sirius, uncertain suddenly. He's been off trying to kill this horror, he doesn't know what Sirius has been doing. Had avoided finding out, he thinks, because if he'd known, it would have been so much harder to stay away, to keep focused on his purpose, but that's been dashed anyway. Sirius is here, Sirius has rescued him, and now he isn't certain he can go back to keeping a distance.]

Are you...you'll help me?

[thedogfather]

[ sirius can see the difference already, like someone's lifted a weight off of regulus' shoulders, and it only reaffirms his desire to put the thing away, to hide it and protect it so he doesn't need to carry it around, influenced and affected. no one should have to deal with that.

you'll help me, regulus asks, and sirius looks mildly thunderstruck, because of course he'll help, you prat. he nearly says as much, but stops himself - because if regulus feels that he has to actually ask that, it's sirius' own fault. for not being around. for not looking out for him. for letting him fall into all of this.

so he sighs softly instead, and nods. ]

Yeah. Of course.

[ he says, quietly, then glances toward the covered glass again. the sooner he gets the thing locked away, the better. scowling, he pulls away the cloth napkin, then hesitates only briefly before lifting the lid. without wasting a beat, sirius tosses the napkin over the horcrux and snatches it up that way, not terribly keen on touching it barehanded. wrapping it tightly, sirius knots the napkin, and pushes up from the table. ]

I'll get it squared away. [ a beat. ] You should.. get some sleep, Reggie. You look a mess.

[grayblack]

[His eyes don't leave the necklace when it appears again, and he follows the little wrapped bundle. It looks so innocuous like this, wrapped in pale cream linen as if it's something precious to be kept undamaged. But the lifted weight is so much, he's able to shoot Sirius something like his old skeptical stare.]

You don't like my new look?

['Exhausted suspicious traveler' is easy to maintain.

It's easier to make even a weak attempt at something lighthearted than tell Sirius he doesn't sleep very much.

He finishes the last few spoonfuls of stew first, then stands and lets his feet take him upstairs to his room. The fire is going, and the bed has been turned down, and Kreacher has worked hard to at least make the place look livable. He hopes, as he kicks off his boots and undoes the long white wrappings on his arms, that Sirius' room looks like this too.

It's fatigue that lets him drift in uninterrupted sleep as long as he does, but eventually the whispers creep back in around the edges, perhaps only memories of the whispers he'd heard from the locket every night, but this time he can hear Sirius, he can't hear what he's saying, only his voice, angry and afraid and in pain and screaming and the whispers are laughing and—

—and he opens his eyes with a sharp, dragging gasp that sets him to coughing, curling up around seizing lungs, but as soon as he can draw a clean breath he's moving, he needs to know, he needs to see him. When he opens Sirius' door, he hardly notices that Kreacher had indeed made some effort here as well, he can only look at his brother. Here. Alive. Asleep. It must be fifteen years since he'd last ended up in Sirius' room after a bad dream, but he closes the door behind him and curls up on top of the covers, weak with relief that he's all right. He'll go soon. In a minute. He'll just close his eyes for a minute.]

[thedogfather]

[ sleep is generally hard to come by when you're fighting a war.

from the order's side, it's a constant paranoia, constant fear. what they're fighting isn't straightforward, it's sneaky and corrupting, it's nagging and bleeding and terror. witches and wizards live in constant fear of who will be captured next, who will be killed, who will return to their home after work to find the doors smashed in and the dark mark hovering in the sky overhead.

it's dissonance and fractured trust, it's not knowing who your friends are anymore, being terrified that they're being controlled, or turned against you. sirius hates it. he's straightforward, brutally honest, would much rather charge in wands blazing than deal with the ugly, insidious truth of it, how the roots of unrest have spread through everything like creeping ivy.

but it is what it is.

once regulus is off to bed without argument, sirius sees to the horcrux. the safe in question is on the third floor, behind a wall in the linen closet, inconspicuous, and invisible unless you know it's there. sirius taps his wand in succession over five different shelves, a specific pattern, a specific order, and a small space at the very bottom, very back of the closet opens up, the wall before it vanishing. behind it is a small, grey safe with no buttons, no dial, no face at all.

with the tip of his wand and a muttered spell, sirius draws a fine cut along his palm, just deep enough to bring blood welling up, and he presses his hand to the front of the safe. when it's pulled away, the blood lingers, shining on its smooth surface, but quickly after it's absorbed, sucked into the safe itself, disappearing without a trace.

a seam opens up around the edges, and the front of the safe creaks open. it's empty, thankfully, and sirius is quick to toss the napkin-wrapped horcrux into it, staring at it darkly for a few lingering moments before he's snapping the safe shut. it seals itself up, and with a tap of his wand to the bottom shelf, the wall reappears, seamless and perfect, and sirius straightens up.

they have no way yet to destroy the cursed thing, and its presence alone is disturbing, but tucked away in the safe, sirius feels a little lighter for it, less weighted.

so, with that done, he looks in on reg to see that he's sleeping comfortably before it's back downstairs to clean up the dishes. he paces the floors, hesitant to even be under this roof, but soon enough he slinks off to his old room. the dust has been cleared away and the fire has warmed the space, and sirius can't help the tired grin that splits his face at the sight of the gryffindor pennants and muggle posters still stuck to the wall. mother had never found a way to remove them, and it feels like a personal triumph.

it's been a long day and night, but sirius still has difficulty falling asleep. again and again he's going over the day's events, reabsorbing the fact that regulus is alive, that he's here, and safe. lingering on thoughts of voldemort, and the horcrux hidden in the linen closet. even without those thoughts, it's not easy for him to fall asleep here, to feel safe surrounded by these dusty walls and the too familiar creaks of the old settling house.

the fire is burned down to embers by the time regulus' weight on the mattress makes him stir, and sirius' eyes open slow, blinking into the dimness.

even though his brother is a man grown now, it's still such a familiar sight, and sirius feels the nostalgia of it crashing over him in waves. bleary-eyed and half-asleep, he flings out an arm to tug regulus in, holding strong and fast. ]

S'okay. [ he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. ] You're safe.

[grayblack]

[Regulus starts awake again when something touches him, but it only takes a moment to recognize Sirius reaching for him across the years. He hadn't climbed under the covers the way he'd done when they'd both been children—sometimes all the way under, a shapeless lump that Sirius had prodded and wondered aloud what it was and if it was a monster he needed to tickle to defeat—but he still shifts closer and curls into the arm.]

Not me. You.

[It's a whisper, hesitant, he should let Sirius fall asleep again, but...]

I heard you. In my dreams. I needed...I had to see you were safe. Go back to sleep.

[thedogfather]

[ it's so bizarre, like being catapulted into the past. here in grimmauld place again, it's the middle of the night and regulus is crawling into his bed, quiet and afraid, and sirius is comforting him sleepily. suddenly they're boys again, and nothing has changed, there's no war, no horcrux, no voldemort. ]

I'm all right.

[ his voice is still rough, and his movements heavy and lazy, but he makes no attempt to move away or banish regulus; his arm remains in place, looped over his brother's back, keeping him near. there's nothing in this world that could erase his innate drive to protect, even if it's his own safety that regulus is dreaming about, sirius has to shield him from that, too. slow and lazy, his thumb moves up and down along regulus' spine, soft and soothing, and his eyes are closed again but he isn't asleep, not yet. ]

[grayblack]

[He's silent for a long time, he thinks, listening to the sounds of the house settling back into being occupied, focusing on the slow, steady rhythm against his back. He'd never been as tactile a person as Sirius, never reached out as much for it, never minded as much when he didn't touch people. But each sweep is grounding him just that much more, reminding him that he's here, he's safe, Sirius is here, Sirius is safe.

It's his left arm he reaches out with, to wrap around Sirius' chest, but his eyes are closed and he doesn't think about it.]

Are you?

[There's no one here but them, there's no reason to whisper, but it still feels like he should. Like they really are children again, and he's snuck down the hall to his brother's room and they need to whisper or risk being overheard and Regulus ordered back to his room.]

[thedogfather]

[ for all they'd become estranged, and grown apart as they aged, sirius had all but forgotten how desperately cute his brother could be. they're only a year apart, but somehow regulus has always felt.. younger somehow. smaller. softer. like something to be protected.

maybe it was nothing more than sirius' own arrogance making him feel that way, but he'd never lost that opinion, and he's feeling it again now, with his brother's skinny arm closing around him, that need to defend. to make him feel like everything will be all right. it's such a peaceful, quiet moment, regulus warm and smelling familiar beside him, the embers popping in the fireplace, that he's nearly dozing off again when regulus' voice whispers through the dimness. sirius chuckles, the sound like a soft, rolling growl. ]

Yeah.

[ his eyelids flicker open, and sirius' mouth pulls into a slow, sleepy smile, but it disappears in an instant the moment his gaze falls to the inside of regulus' arm. the image is sharp, clear, and unmistakable, and with a jolt of recognition sirius is snapped entirely awake, aware, a sick feeling twisting in the pit of his stomach. quick as a whip, he snags his brother's wrist and holds it. ]

No - oh, Reg, no -

[grayblack]

[The adrenaline spike has him tensing to bolt, he's even halfway sitting up before he realizes why, but the pain in Sirius' voice has him curling into himself. He wants to pull his arm back, hide the Mark back beneath layers and layers of cloth, why hadn't he remembered, he hadn't ever wanted...]

I didn't want you to see.

[He finally forces himself to tip his head up, to look at Sirius' face in the dark. Does he hate him now? Now that he has the proof of how deeply Regulus had buried himself?]

Don't look at it. Sirius. Don't.

[thedogfather]

[ just the sight of it, the knowledge of what it meant, what it still means, is like a hot knife in his heart. it stings, and it aches, and sirius feels a hot swirl of emotion churning in his gut and it makes him feel sick, dizzy with shock.

how had it gotten this bad? regulus was always too obedient, malleable, so ready to eat up all the venom that his parents had been trying to feed them both and yet sirius couldn't bring himself to consider that it could have gone this far. that he'd have been so close to it, so deep in it that he's been branded forever with this vile, twisted thing. that he'd allowed it to happen.

a sound moves in sirius' throat, dry and aching like a wounded animal, but he doesn't let up, doesn't release his grip. he's angry, ferociously angry. angry at their parents for poisoning their children with hate, angry with voldemort of being the evil, hateful creature that he is, angry with regulus for being fool enough to allow himself to believe it.

but mostly, sirius realizes, he's angry with himself. regulus had been so young. sirius knew it, knew how he was, knew how soft his brother had been, how desperate he was to feel useful and worthy. he'd known all of that and he'd still run away, left him in the jaws of the beast to fend for himself knowing full well that he couldn't stand a chance against the overwhelming darkness. he'd been so damned selfish. arrogant. he'd been a bloody fool, and his little brother had suffered for it because sirius wasn't there to protect him when he needed it most.

his grip on that wrist is painfully tight, knuckles white, but he can't let up. that awful, ugly mark - he could have prevented this. could have stopped it. there's a tightness in sirius' throat that threatens to choke him, a horrible, grieving fury swallowing him up. ]

Dammit, I - [ his voice feels thick, like he can't force words through a too-tight throat, and sirius' opposite hand moves to grasp at regulus' neck, pulling him in 'til their foreheads touch, long fingers tangling in dark hair and tightening like he's looking for an anchor. ] Reggie, I - I'm -

[ sorry, sorry, so bloody sorry. ]

[grayblack]

No, no, no, Sirius, no. [It's rapid-fire, sharp whispers as Regulus scrambles to wrap his free arm around Sirius' shoulders and shakes his head, leaning in, anything to show that he's here, he's here, he's alive. That thing on his arm and everything that surrounded it, it hasn't stopped him.]

I wanted to tell you, as soon as it happened I wanted to tell you you were right about everything, I wanted to start running and never stop, I hate it, I'm sorry, I never wanted you to have to look at it.

[He's tugging weakly at his arm, even though Sirius' grip is bruisingly tight and he'll never pull it free without fighting him off and he'd rather die, he'd rather die right now than lash out. But it's awful, stark and almost smug curled beneath his skin, a claim Regulus will never be able to shed, and one he'd never wanted to burden Sirius with. He wears the wraps to avoid drawing attention to it, to avoid accidentally seeing it, and if he'd been more careful...

If he'd been more careful, maybe he could have kept Sirius from hurting like this.]

[thedogfather]

[ for all of regulus' hopes, there's simply no way he could have hidden it forever. or even for a long amount of time. those wraps were simply too suspicious, and sirius would have ferreted it out on his own eventually. secrets like this.. they have a way of outing themselves, no matter how hard you might try to keep them hidden.

and besides, for what it's worth, sirius would much rather know the truth and feel the pain now, than be hidden from it, and allow his brother to suffer on his own.

this ache, it runs through them both, back and forth like a snake swallowing its own tail, an endless loop. at last sirius releases his iron grip on regulus' wrist, and he uses that arm to scoop his huddled brother in close, squeezing him, all but crushing him as if somehow sirius could protect him from all of this with his own body, shield him as if it were something physical assailing them both. ]

No. [ he says, sharply, and surely, despite the rough quality of his voice. ] Don't keep anything from me. Not anymore. You swear to me, Reg - no more secrets.

[ sirius squeezes his eyes shut, presses his face against the crown of regulus' head, into his messy, overgrown hair. ]

It's not your fault.