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Everything hurts. That’s the first thing Regulus feels when he gains consciousness, though the moment he feels it, he desires sleep once more. He can barely move and it feels like he’s been ripped apart.
He can’t fathom what’s happened to cause this pain, this agony.
He hasn't realised he’s making noise. Not until two sets of hands grab him, holding him down, whilst a third grabs his jaw and tips a potion in. Regulus isn’t in his right mind, otherwise he’d spit the potion right out again, but he can’t think. He can only focus on the pain.
“It’s okay, Reg,” comes a soothing voice. It’s familiar, but his brain can’t place who is talking. A hand presses against his forehead and it’s nice and cool in contrast to the burning that is already there. Still, he cries out. The fingers card into his hair, pushing the sweat-soaked hair back, away from his skin.
The pain eases. Not by a lot - not by enough. But it does. His throat stops feeling raw and painful, and in the back of his mind, he realises that he’s been screaming this entire time. He’s aware enough - a little bit at least - to realise that he’s not able to see anything clearly. His eyes are open wide, but everything is a blur. His vision keeps flashing black.
A hand finds his, and he clings to it, not caring that he’s probably crushing someone’s fingers. He just needs something to grip onto, something to focus on as he attempts to handle this pain. Suddenly pain shoots up his arm, a fresh pain and it’s almost too much. The pain threatens to make him pass out.
The flashes of black become more constant now, and his body is exhausted by the few minutes of consciousness. He doesn’t fight to stay awake, because being awake means suffering the pain even more. He closes his eyes and lets the darkness take over him.
Regulus doesn’t even try and count each bout of consciousness and agony. His mind doesn’t want to recall how many times he’s woken up, only to scream and shout and sob in pain. It’s only in the last few moments, as the darkness comes, that he hears the voices of those around him. Mostly men, though sometimes there’s a woman.
Hands always hold him down, and Regulus always fights them. But he knows the potion will help with the pain, so he takes it willingly. It doesn’t do enough, but anything is better than nothing.
Darkness keeps returning, but after the first wave of darkness he dreams of grey-skinned beings with flesh falling from their bodies. His nightmares are so life-like that they terrify him to his very soul. He’s not sure which is worse - the nightmares or the pain.
Fingers carding through his hair becomes a comforting feeling. The voice keeps telling him that it’ll be fine. That soon he’ll be fine. He’s not so sure about that. He’s not sure about anything.
“Much better. He’s calmer,” comes a woman’s voice. Regulus opens his eyes a crack. The room is light. The brightness instantly hurts him and he winces slightly.
“Nox,” he hears a man - Sirius? - say. That’s what brings him to open his eyes again, because Sirius left home yesterday. Well, maybe not quite yesterday because of the pain-filled days. But sometime in the last few weeks.
Has he come home?
Hope causes Regulus to try and open his eyes again. He still hurts, his body is aching. He feels weak, drained. But he’s not screaming. He doesn’t feel the urge to rip at his own skin.
“Sirius?” His throat still aches. It feels raw and painful, and the word is a whisper. “You came home.”
“Reg, it’s okay, we’ve got you and you’re safe. James had to run and do something, or he’d be here.”
Regulus doesn’t care about stupid James Potter and his stupidly messy hair or stupid, sexy smile. All that matters is Sirius. “You…” he whispers.
“Your throat is wrecked," Sirius says. “It’ll take some time for you to… just don’t worry about talking. Pomfrey said it’s best that you try and rest it. She said that just talking can reverse the healing. So just… just whisper. Just one or two words.”
Reg gives the slightest of nods to show he’s heard.
There’s a woman murmuring again, and he hears a door creak.
“You need more rest. Do you think you can sleep? Sleep through the recovery as much as you can, and then… fuck, Reg. I’m glad you’re okay.” There’s emotion in Sirius’ voice that Regulus has never heard before - that Regulus doesn’t understand.
“Arm hurts,” he whispers, because that’s the focus of the pain now.
“I know. We’re trying to… we’ll help. We’ll work out how to fix that.”
Regulus closes his eyes, though he knows those grey, lifeless bodies with their empty eyes are waiting for him.
The soup is lukewarm and the person in front of him is a blur and he’s being spoon-fed like a child and he’s angry. His thoughts are a little clearer. Sirius is here, but he’s pretty sure here isn’t home because Kreacher would be caring for him, and (thankfully) Kreacher wouldn’t keep stroking his hair.
He hates lukewarm soup. It needs to be hot, it needs bread that’s smothered in butter. He needs homemade, not this trash soup.
“Reg, what can you tell us about what happened?” that first familiar voice asks. It’s soft, kind, and Regulus hasn’t realised how much he needs someone to talk to him like that until now.
“Did something happen?” he asks. The last thing he remembers is Sirius making a scene when leaving Grimmauld Place. Regulus hid upstairs, hoping Sirius would come and say goodbye at least, but that didn’t happen. There was shouting and screaming and then an eerie silence, and Regulus knew something bad was happening downstairs.
He feels sick. They’re asking what happened with Sirius. They must be.
“Sirius? Is he okay?” Regulus whispers. His hands try to find purchase on the bed, but he can’t seem to muster the strength to push himself up, though he tries.
“Lay down,” the voice orders firmly. “You’re resting. You can’t get up!”
“Where’s my brother?” he demands, because he’s almost sure he heard Sirius’ voice. Didn't he?
Maybe Sirius came back and his parents did something bad? He feels panic wash over him. No, it’s not panic. It’s complete fear. He’s trying to get up, his body protesting heavily. He feels dizzy, sick, but he needs to find Sirius. Voices are calling his name, more voices joining in. Hands are pressing him back down.
He fights with all that he has. It’s not much, but he doesn’t care. His mouth is forced open and a potion is poured inside, and people are shouting.
And it all goes black, and the grey lifeless figures’ empty eyes turn to him, and bony fingers with flesh melting away reach for him.
He wakes up screaming, and his eyes open wide. The creatures got him - again - and dragged him under the water. Their skin melts off their bones, and their eyes are wide and dead and hungry. He knows he’s drenched in sweat.
“Regulus!” This time the familiar voice is even more clear, and it sounds like James Potter, but… different. Yes, different. He looks around wildly, the blur looking more life-like as his gaze moves wildly around the room.
“Where’s Sirius?” he demands, his voice not much more than a whisper. He wants to scream. He wants to get up and run to find his brother, but he has a vague recollection of being prevented from doing so. He forces himself to calm down enough so he doesn’t get knocked out again. Inside, everything is a flurry of panic and emotions and he feels the same sickness as before. His body still screams at him in pain, but his brother needs him. He’s already racked with guilt for not helping him in the past.
“He’ll be here in a few minutes. I’ve sent someone to fetch him.”
“J… James?” Regulus whispers. “What happened to him?”
“Nothing. Sirius is fine. What… why would you think something has happened to him?” There’s a heavy weight of suspicion in James’ tone. “Is something bad due to happen?”
“Mother or Father… he shouldn’t have come home,” Regulus mutters. “He got away. I don’t know what they did, but he got free. Shouldn’t have come home.”
There’s a long silence, and if it wasn’t for the blurred outline of a person, Regulus would assume he’d been left alone, but he waits, everything on edge. “Everything hurts,” he adds in a hushed whisper.
“I’ve a potion to help. Are you feeling strong enough to drink it yourself?” It’s pressed gently into his palm and Regulus feels James’ hand close around his and carefully guide it to his lips. He doesn’t say anything, silently appreciating the help, even if he hates dumb James Potter.
James has never been this nice to him before, so something bad must be happening. If it isn’t Sirius, then it’s got to do with what happened to him. In the very few coherent moments, he wondered to himself if he had this time stepped in to protect his brother. If he somehow protected Sirius, then this pain is all worth it.
“I’m glad you’re here,” James says, interrupting the quiet that has fallen. “Reg, I can’t tell you how much I’ve… I’ve missed you. I didn’t want it like this, but I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe from now on, okay?”
“Why have you missed me?” Regulus asks quietly.
Silence for a long moment, before James’ uncertain voice breaks it. “Do you want me to say it? Tell you how I feel?”
“Feel?”
“Reg, you know I’m in love with you.”
Regulus doesn’t answer, because the last thing he ever thought he’d hear from James Potter is a declaration of love. Especially since James is dating Lily Evans. This is weird, and his brain can’t comprehend what is happening.
“I think I need to sleep,” he whispers. He doesn’t want to sleep because of the grey monsters that haunt him, but he’s tired, and everything still hurts, and how can he deal with this situation? He needs Sirius.
“Oh.” James sounds so hurt at his words. “I’ll… I’ll be in the next room. Just call me and… I’m here. I’m here no matter what, okay?”
Regulus tries to nod. He closes his eyes with the intention of waiting for James to leave. He listens for the door to close, but the seconds pass and he’s certain James hasn’t left the room.
As he waits, he finds the darkness again. Grey fingers grabbing at him once more.
His eyes fly open and the blur is more person-shaped. He can tell it’s his brother from the way the blur is fidgeting around.
“Nightmare?” Sirius asks quietly.
“Yeah,” Regulus admits, his voice just a whisper. “You okay?”
Sirius laughs. It sounds older than Regulus is used to, though he's rarely spoken to Sirius for a while, so he dismisses it. “'Course I’m okay. James said… Reg, you’re acting a little… I mean, you have every right to act…” A sigh, because clearly Sirius doesn’t know what to say. “You’re safe though. We’ll keep you safe, Reg. This time I’ll protect you.”
“What happened?” Regulus asks. “Did you come home? Did you come back for me?” He can’t keep the hope from his voice. “Is that where it went wrong?”
The blur moves. “Home?” Sirius asks. “Reg, what’s the last thing you remember?”
“You left home,” Regulus tells him. “And I’m sorry I stayed upstairs. I was scared. A coward. But you came back for me, right? Are we at the Potters’ house?”
Sirius doesn’t answer and the silence stretches on. The blur moves, and Regulus realises that someone else is in the room. He sighs impatiently. “Who are you gesturing to?”
“Oh. I… it’s Remus. I just... “ Sirius takes a deep breath. “Regulus, your last memory was something that happened two years ago. I left home two years ago. In those two years, a lot has happened. You dated my best friend - which I still don’t approve of, though I hate how upset he looked earlier more than anything - you… you joined a bad group, but you did a good thing to help us.”
Regulus knows the bad group. He’s heard whispers, but never thought he’d end up mixed up in that. The story has no merit, because he’d never date James, with that stupidly adorable grin and those amazing eyes. Not a chance.
“Bullshit,” he hisses. “You’re full of crap, Sirius.”
“You can deny it all you like, but you’ll have to face up to it sometime,” Sirius says. “Regulus, I’m trying. Things have been bad between us for years, but you’re my brother and I love you. I want to keep you safe.”
“Did a fine job of that so far,” Regulus snaps. His throat burns and his fingers weakly move to it. Sirius quickly gives him a potion to help with the pain. It eases up the agony running through his body.
“We got there and they were ripping you apart,” Sirius says quietly. “You’re right - I failed to protect you. But I won’t fail again.”
The blur moves, and Regulus realises Sirius is leaving, but he needs to ask.
“Something was ripping me apart?” he asks.
“That’s not for now,” Sirius tells him. “Rest and recover. There’s a lot of talking to do, but you need to be better before it happens.”
Two weeks pass. Healing takes a long time, but with each day, the pain is just that little bit less. He asks questions, but no-one answers. Well, they answer the ones about his healing, but the ones about where he is, or the truth of what is happening go unanswered.
But finally he wakes up and the pain is half of what he’s used to. He can move his arms and legs with that little bit more strength.
“Any better?” Madam Pomfrey says. She wraps bandages around his arm. The ones that hurt. The bandages aren’t dry, so he knows there’s something on them to stop the pain. Well, ease it, at the very least.
“I think my vision is clearer. The pain isn’t too bad.” He lets out a sigh. “Will I be here much longer?”
She’s quiet for a moment, and he studies her expression. It’s not worried, it’s thoughtful. She packs away her medical kit and steps back, looking him over.
“As long as you take it easy, no,” she tells him. “Get as much sleep as you need - it’s your body trying to recover. Ignoring it will only prevent your healing. I’m just a call away.”
She gives him a tired smile and leaves, and Regulus stares after her. He can’t help but wonder why he’s in this bed rather than at St. Mungo's. But he’s got the all-clear to move around, and though his body starts to feel the pain as he slowly sits up and swings his legs out of the bed, he continues on. He pushes the sea green blanket aside.
His legs shake underneath him. He can hear low voices in the other room. He can hear Madam Pomfrey talking, but can’t make the words out. His brother is there - he can see for himself that his brother is fine. That thought is what pushes him to keep standing, though his legs want to give way. He grabs the bedside table, his fingers knocking against a frame.
He glances at it. A picture of James with his parents. He’s in James Potter’s bed, which is so very confusing. He supposes he must appreciate that someone he barely knows has given up his room. He’ll have to thank him.
He shuffles his feet across the floor slowly, clutching at furniture as he goes. His body hates each movement, but Regulus doesn’t want to be stuck in that bed anymore. He doesn’t want to spend most of the time sleeping. He doesn’t want to see those dead, lifeless eyes.
He reaches the door of the bedroom at the same time as the familiar sound of someone Flooing away.
“Sirius?” he calls, though his voice is a whisper. He glances around for stairs, but sees none. “Where are you?”
He can see a bed in the room facing, so turns in the hallway and shuffles up there, using the wall to steady himself. He passes the bathroom, and can see the kitchen at the other end of the hall, facing them, so his gaze moves to the last door. It’s open, and as he gets to the doorway, he sees them. There are three of them, and he can’t see their faces because their backs are to the door.
“Sirius?” he whispers again, his legs shaking. He holds onto the doorframe, his fingers white as he clings to it. Sirius rushes over and an arm is wrapped around him and he’s walked to a chair.
“You should be resting,” Sirius scolds, and he still sounds older.
“Madam Pomfrey said… just don’t overdo it,” he mutters quietly. “I couldn’t be there any longer. It feels like months in that bed.” He closes his eyes and sinks back into the chair.
“Just over a month. There was a solid week where you didn’t even wake up.” He moves around the chair and sits down on the sofa nearby. “So, you’re able to move around, so I suppose you have questions?”
“What really happened?” Regulus asks. “You came home?”
There’s another long pause and Regulus is sick of it. Sick of Sirius and James tiptoeing around him and hiding things.
“Regulus, I just want to be clear,” James says, “that your last memory is the day Sirius left home. Your last memory is when you’re fifteen?”
“I am fifteen,” Regulus murmurs.
“Regulus, look at us.” This time it’s Remus who speaks, and Regulus slowly opens his eyes. He’s never minded Remus, though his parents disapproved of him because he’s not a pureblood. They’re all sitting on the sofa, and it’s clearly them, but…
They do look a little older. Sirius doesn’t look eighteen, and his hair is much longer than it had been.. Remus has a new scar across his face, yet it looks like it’s been there a while, which wouldn’t make sense unless it happened in Hogwarts, and James looks grown up.
They look like they’ve aged a couple of years at least.
“Regulus, this is our flat,” Sirius says gently. “We think that after the… incident you went through, it caused some sort of amnesia. So Madam Pomfrey suggested we take it easy and tell you things a little at a time and hope something triggers the memory.”
Regulus can only stare. Slowly he turns his head, looking around the room. This clearly can’t be the home of a noble pureblooded family like the Potters. Cheap furniture, too many plants, and so many cushions and blankets. There’s a shelf that’s a little wonky and there’s a stack of books on the floor.
As he turns his head back to Sirius, he sees the folded duvet at the end of the sofa, with pillows sitting on top.
Sirius looks too settled here. Remus Lupin wouldn’t be here.
“It can’t be true,” he says quietly, though there’s evidence to prove otherwise. “Two years. I can’t… please let this be one of your pranks.”
His gaze moves between the three men. Remus is watching with pity, Sirius’ gaze is filled with determination, and James… James is looking at him with some fucking adoration.
“You said… you said in the bedroom… we… were we…”
James risks a glance at Sirius first.
He nods. “After Sirius left, you kept seeking me out, asking about him. We kinda got closer. When you were sixteen and I was seventeen… things happened. Snogging mostly, but… there were feelings. I like to believe that we both felt them, even if you never admitted to…”
“Wait, you never told me that,” Sirius says. “Reg never said he loves you back?”
James shrugs and shakes his head as though it doesn’t matter, but he’s not so good at lying. It’s right there on his face.
“Then he started recruiting, and we suspect - though we’re not sure it was her - that Bellatrix introduced you to him. You joined the dark side, Reg. You pulled away from me. Said it was for my safety, and that was the last I…” he trails off once more.
“I’d never join them,” Regulus snaps, though it makes his throat hurt.
“The followers take a mark - the Dark Mark,” Remus explains gently. “It’s his way to call them, to summon them. We think… when he summons them, it causes pain.”
Regulus realises with a start that they’re all staring at his bandaged arm. He uses his free hand to grab for the bandage. James starts forward, but Sirius grabs James’ arm and shakes his head. Regulus unwinds the bandage and as he does, he sees the terrifying mark on his arm.
He feels sick. He feels cold. The sight of it makes him shiver. Remus is quick to fetch him a blanket, draping it carefully over his lap.
“What did I do?” he whispers.
James and Sirius look helplessly at each other.
“Tell me.”
“Reg, it might be too much. How about we tell you a bit more tomorrow?” Sirius tries.
“No. I want to know. I have a right to know what I’ve done.” He doesn’t want to know if truth be told, but he needs to.
“We don’t know for sure. Death Eaters… well, they… they wear masks. But they’ve been raiding. A lot of it happened when you were at school, so we know that you weren't involved in the worst of the worst. We don’t know how much you did, but you’ve got the Mark, which means you’ve… you’ve done something to gain his trust.”
“What makes you so sure about that?” Regulus pushes. “Maybe I just got the Mark recently? Maybe I haven’t had a chance to do something bad?”
The three men sit in silence for a long moment.
“You were in a position to learn something that we don’t think he’d want people to know,” Sirius finally explains. “Look, maybe you did bad things, maybe you didn’t, but… but at the end, you did something good. Something to be proud of.”
“I did?” Regulus is hopeful at this. He looks at his brother with pleading eyes. “What did I do?”
“You took something from him that might help take him down,” Sirius says proudly. “But you also put yourself in danger. No one can know where you are. You can’t go home. You can’t leave this flat. The only people outside of the room that know you’re here are Pomfrey - because she’s been healing you - and Dumbledore. Not even the Order knows. We’ve been forbidden from even telling Peter.”
Regulus takes some time to think about this. He likes the pride in Sirius’ voice, but he’s scared because what if he did something really bad? What if he killed someone or tortured someone? But he did good, too
“Did he catch me?” Regulus asks quietly. “Is that why I’m hurt?”
Regulus is hating the silences.
“Kreacher,” Sirius finally admits. “He used Kreacher to help him hide the object. There was a potion… it… we’ll go into that later. But Kreacher was close to death after drinking it in order for the item to be placed. He came back and you looked after him and ordered him to show you the place. You… you drunk the potion yourself, and ordered Kreacher to take the item and destroy it. You ordered him to leave. He came to me because he was scared for you - he brought us to you. But…”
“But what?”
“The potion made you want a drink. But the water was filled with inferi, so the moment you touched it, they came for you. We got there and I thought it was too late. They were already clawing into you, ripping at you, pulling you under the water.”
Regulus can’t breathe. He feels sick and can’t stop thinking about the nightmares.
“Grey creatures,” he whispers. “They look like their flesh was… was melting off their bones. Dead, lifeless eyes. Hands digging into me and pulling me under the water.”
“You remember,” Sirius says, sitting forward, his eyes wide. “You… shit. I mean, I’m glad you’re getting your memories back, but I don’t want you to remember the bad things.”
“I don’t remember. Not properly.” Regulus’ hands clench together, and James reaches out, his hands taking Regulus’. “The nightmares. Every time I sleep, those things come for me.” His voice shakes as the words come out. “They ripped me apart?”
“I thought you were dead,” Sirius whispers. “The most terrifying moment of my life. It was touch-and-go for the first few days, but you’re alive.”
“And you’re here. With us.” James’ hands tighten slightly. “Where you belong.”
“I… James, I don’t remember that we…” Regulus says quietly.
James just smiles. “You admitted that you had a crush on me for a while before approaching me about Sirius. So if your memories are back two years, you’ll be right back to having that crush on me.”
Regulus reddens at this.
“Please,” he says, rolling his eyes. “As though I’d ever have a crush on someone who can’t even—”
“—Brush his hair,” James finishes, laughing. “You’re still only seventeen, and I’m eighteen now. So nothing can happen until we’re both above the age of consent, which means you can take time to get to know me again. We can work on a friendship and maybe you’ll fall for me all over again.”
“I’d like friendship,” Regulus says quietly. He looks between Remus and James as he says this. When his gaze moves to Remus, he suddenly notices Sirius’ hand in his. “Are you two…”
“Yeah. Yeah, we are,” Sirius murmurs. “I think you know as much as we know in regards to what happened to you, Regulus. I’m proud of you, and we’re here for you - we’ll help you through the nightmares and help you regain your memory. We’ll keep you safe.”
Regulus manages a smile. He’s exhausted, both physically and mentally, but he feels like things could get better. He’s back with his brother, James Potter fancies him, which is a dream come true (not that he’d admit it), and he’s being treated with a kindness he’s not used to. He’s sure that they can find it in their hearts to offer each other forgiveness.