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It’s a Sunday in March and James wakes up and cries. He doesn’t know why, but tears are rapidly falling from the corners of his eyes anyway. Realizing that this is going to happen whether he likes it or not, James gently extracts his arms from Regulus to roll onto his back and cover his face with his hands; he lets it overtake him.
Regulus shifts a little when James removes his arms from him, but he remains asleep. Of the two of them, Regulus is more restless in his sleep while James is typically dead to the world. It comes with the territory of Regulus’s PTSD and James’s strong medication.
This morning, James would like Regulus to stay asleep for as long as he can. Regulus has been putting in long hours ahead of his charity’s fundraiser in two weeks for manticore habitat restoration.
James can’t bother him with this. Not something as meaningless as crying for no reason.
He doesn’t feel sad, exactly, just… bad. It’s not dangerously bad though, at least not yet. He knows his mind enough to know that.
And so James cries. He isn’t sure how long it goes on. Regulus begins to wake as James’s tears slow. Regulus turns, searching for James’s warmth, then pauses when he sees him.
“Oh, my love. You should’ve woken me,” he says, once he’s taken stock of the situation.
“‘s’fine.” James shakes his head. “I don’t even know what’s causing it.” His lip quivers a bit as he speaks, and James would be embarrassed with almost anyone else, but this is Regulus. Regulus, the man James loves and is loved by. Regulus, who used to be the most closed-off individual James had ever met, but who can now share every part of himself with James, just as James knows he can share every part of himself with him.
So because this is Regulus, James lets his lip quiver and feels no shame. He lets Regulus hold him until the tears slow and then stop. Once they do, James takes a deep breath in, holds it, then releases it slowly.
“Alright then,” he says, turning to face Regulus. His husband looks to him, following James’s lead. James gives a soft smile and a gentle kiss on the lips. “I love you, you know that?”
“I know, darling. I love you too.” Regulus returns James’s smile. “I’ll make breakfast. Anything else I can do?”
“Mm, no, but I’ll come with you.” It had taken a bit of practice, but James learned early on that being around people is always better for him than being alone. Specifically, when he’s not having the best day, he needs to be around people he loves.
So instead of staying behind and letting his mind fester while Reg cooks, he will follow. He’ll attach himself to Regulus’s back while his husband makes them French omelets, and James won’t say much, but it’s enough.
Later, Harry arrives from his mothers’ house. James still feels a bit off, but seeing his son brightens him instantly. Sunday may have started off a bit a wobbly, but James is determined to have a great week!
~*~
It’s a Monday in March and it’s a bad one. When James comes into consciousness, he can feel something wretched stirring within him, and it is starting to rot there.
Regulus is already getting dressed, and he starts to smile when he notices James waking. That smile is replaced with naked concern when their eyes meet.
“James?” Regulus pauses as he’s buttoning his shirt and approaches James, reaching for his face. “Alright, my love?”
James closes his eyes.
Very early on in their relationship, Regulus made it abundantly clear that lying of any kind would be completely unacceptable, even the smallest of white lies.
When they began their relationship, Regulus had only just begun to work on his trust issues stemming from his abusive childhood. Because of this, honesty was one of the core tenants of their relationship.
Even small lies are off the table, as they hold the same weight to Regulus. A lie is a lie, and his trust will be broken from any level of dishonesty.
In the four years they have been together, James has never lied to him. Even when James was heavily pining and trying to hide that fact, he never outright lied to Regulus, which Regulus knows and appreciates endlessly.
James was happy to agree to the zero-tolerance lying policy, especially since he was doing that already. It has made their relationship incredibly durable and prevented many potential arguments.
“It’s not good today.”
“I’m so sorry darling.” Regulus strokes soft fingers across his forehead, and down the bridge of his nose. “How ‘not good’?”
“I’ll be able to do what I need to, I’m just going to struggle a lot more than usual.”
“Is there anything I can do to make it easier?”
James opens his eyes and slowly sits up, pulling Regulus in a tight hug. “Other than this? Not that I can think of right now.”
“Alright. Please tell me if that changes.”
They hold each other for a while until Regulus has to leave for work. Once he does, James steels himself for the day then goes to start on breakfast for himself and Harry. Doing anything today feels nearly insurmountable and absolutely grueling. He feels that this is the same amount of effort it would take someone to chew and swallow broken glass.
As James smiles at Harry, he can almost feel the broken glass in his mouth and picture it splitting his skin, blood dripping down his chin. He loves his son more than anything in the world; why is it so hard even just to smile at him today?
Harry is an angel today, but it is agony for James to act okay around him as they get him ready for Kindergarten. He is relieved when Harry gets on the bus and he can drop the façade, and he hates himself for it.
James returns from the bus stop and drops to the floor the instant the front door shuts behind him. He’s crouching down, head between his knees. James isn’t sure why, but often, when he hurts like this, his instinct is to get to the floor. Maybe things aren’t as heavy down here, or maybe it makes him feel more grounded (pun intended). Whatever the case, taking a break down near the ground sometimes helps him.
He eventually gathers the strength to stand, and goes straight to bed. James will have to go back to the bus stop to pick Harry up later, and he’ll have to be a good father and pretend like he isn’t burning up inside. For now, he will get rid of these feelings through sleep.
James doesn’t get any laundry or dusting or exercising done today like he had planned, but he saves the scraps of energy he does have for cooking dinner this evening. While Harry colors at the kitchen table, James cooks. It’s lemongrass chicken and rice noodles tonight, something incredibly easy to make on a good day. He recruits Harry to help put together some spring rolls. Harry’s turn out about as well as expected for a distracted 5-year-old, and James praises him for his hard work.
Things are easier with his son than they would be with almost anyone else, but it’s still so cripplingly difficult to do anything today. Speaking, smiling, even moving in any way is agonizing. James doesn’t know why it hurts or what is hurting, but it’s excruciating. He makes it through, and Harry is none the wiser.
When Regulus returns home, James could cry in relief. It doesn’t matter that they just saw each other this morning, James is hurting, and all he wants is his husband. When they kiss hello James brings him in for a long hug.
“How was your day?” Comes Regulus’s low murmur. James rubs his forehead against his husband’s shoulder.
“It’s been a long time since I felt this bad.”
“I am so, so sorry, darling. I’m right here.” Regulus grasps him tightly.
After dinner, James spends the rest of the evening curled up on the couch while Regulus plays with Harry. He's glad to be in the company of his family, even if he can't really interact with them right now. Regulus handles most of Harry's bedtime routine, as usual. James feels the heavy weight of guilt settle in further when he feels relief once Harry has fallen asleep. He is just completely at his limit with the amount of smiles he can fake today.
This was a bad one. Really, really bad. James’s next routine psychiatry appointment is in three weeks. If he has another day like today before then, he’ll reschedule it for a closer date.
~*~
It’s a Tuesday in March, and James feels a bit better. There’s still something wicked swirling in his chest, but he’s able to summon the energy to get out of bed in a reasonable amount of time. He goes about his day and enjoys the time he spends with Harry.
He’s still pretty exhausted from yesterday, and doesn’t want to see anyone outside of his family, but he does have lunch scheduled with Frank. He really wants to cancel, but Frank’s been so busy with work lately that they haven’t been able to connect in a little while.
The problem is thankfully solved for him when Frank owls to tell him he is so sorry, but he is caught up in work again and could they please reschedule for next week? James is terribly relieved. He catches up on dusting and listens to the record player Sirius made for him and Regulus.
Harry and then Regulus returning home lifts the heaviness inside him a bit. He ends the day tired and a bit wobbly, but hopeful.
~*~
It’s a Wednesday in March, and James wakes up heavy. His chest is on fire, and his mind—
His mind—
It’s agony.
He’s lying on his side, and on instinct, his knees come up to his chest, putting him in the foetal position. It is his body’s feeble attempt at anything to alleviate some of the pain.
Behind him, Regulus stirs. “Mm, James?”
James can’t answer. He’s trapped somewhere. He’s staring at the place where the wall meets the moulding meets the carpet, except he’s not really looking.
Regulus nestles closer to his back and reaches up to bring a gentle fingers to James’s temple, rubbing softly.
“Are you far away, my love?”
James doesn’t respond immediately, but he takes Regulus’s hand and pulls the attached arm around himself, placing his own arm over Regulus’s. He brings their joined hands to his mouth and gently touches his lips against Regulus’s fingertips.
Finally, James finds strength within himself to softly grunt in response to his husband’s question.
Regulus shifts even closer and places his forehead against James’s neck. The coolness it brings feels—well, not nice, nothing feels nice, but it doesn’t feel bad.
Something is happening to James. The only real way to describe it is complete and utter torment. Hell in his mind. There are needles pricking his brain, and he's sure his mind is bleeding out. The pain isn't physical at all, and he knows it’s coming from within himself, but that doesn’t help.
Regulus helps.
It’s agony, still, but at least he’s not alone. He couldn’t bear to do this alone.
After a while James pulls together enough mental energy to speak the first—and most important—thing in his mind.
“Harry. Reg, you need to go take care of Harry.”
Harry is on Regulus’s mind as well, and with that opening, Regulus sits up a bit to wave open the covering on the single clock in their room. It was a gift from Sirius, who knows that James cannot always stand to look at clocks.
7.37. Harry will probably be in in about 10 minutes, loud and confident and perfect, asking for breakfast and chattering about anything. Regulus aches to leave James like this, but it will be a brief absence, and their son needs his attention too.
Regulus squeezes James’s hand and gently untangles it from his own. He uses it to stroke through his husband’s hair. They stay this way for a few minutes, before Regulus leans down to press a lingering kiss to James’s temple.
“I won’t be gone long, my love.”
James doesn’t respond.
He lies there and hurts and drifts. He’s still staring at that place where the wall meets the moulding meets the carpet. He stares and stares, unblinking. If he blinks he knows things will move in the darkness behind his eyes. Something bad will come and get him, he's sure. At some point, tears fall from the corners of his eyes and drip onto the pillow. He’s not sure if he’s truly crying or if his eyes are dry from not blinking for too long. It’s probably a combination of both.
James finally rips his eyes away from that one spot. He tries again to close them, but that is badbadbadbadbad, so he just finds another innocuous spot in the room—the curl of the handle of the closet door—and stares at that instead.
He needs to get on the floor. He hurts and he needs to get on the floor. The bed is too soft and warm and so James needs to get on the floor. He drags himself off the side of the bed, pulling a large blanket with him. He curls up on the carpet and covers himself with the blanket, tucking himself in. It’s better down here, a bit.
He cries, completely silent.
At some point he falls asleep, maybe. He thinks he dreams and that’s bad too. He remembers people talking and feeling the weight of their disappointment. Maybe that wasn’t a dream after all.
Either way, James continues to cry. He was right, earlier. This is utterly unbearable to go through alone.
“Oh, my love,” he hears from the doorway. And Regulus is there —he’s not alone. James doesn’t lift his head or move in any way, but Regulus comes to him, crouching down stroking his hair. and it’s like a gasp of air after being on the verge of drowning. Regulus is here.
James makes a sound in the back of his throat and leans into his husband’s touch. His gaze is currently stuck on the bottom of the bed frame, but if he could muster up the power to look at Regulus, he would. James is going to get through this, and Regulus will guide him through it.
He wishes he could look at him.
But—”Harry.”
“He’s with your parents for now. Lily will go to him after work. I’m here with you all day.” James feels a splash of shame at that. The people in his life shouldn’t have to cover for this. It’s his job to take care of Harry during the day, and he isn’t doing it. And speaking of jobs—”Work?”
Harry is James’s full-time job, but Regulus runs a charity for magical creature rights. It is incredibly important, and Regulus cares about it deeply. James doesn’t know the time, but Reg should probably be there now.
“Not today,” Reg replies, and that’s not right. Yes, James would feel better with Regulus here, but he can’t let Regulus miss work for this. He wishes he could act okay enough for Reg to go to work. He wants to try that, but he really, really can’t. James can’t even move. It hurts so, so bad.
“Don’t do that, I’m—” The thing is, James would love to lie here, he really would. If it was anyone else he would, but this is Regulus. He can’t lie to Regulus. He thinks about trying another route, and instead of saying he’s fine, he could say that he’s safe.
…He can’t say that he’s safe.
He hurts so badly that the only thing really stopping him from hurting himself as a distraction, or even doing something that would stop the pain altogether, is that he hardly has the energy or strength even to move right now.
Regulus clearly knows where that sentence was meant to go, knows what it means that it was left incomplete. He continues stroking James’s face softly.
“I’m here today,” he repeats. “Would you like me to lie down with you?”
James has never not wanted Regulus to lie down with him. When he’s like this, Regulus will always ask.
“Always,” comes the automatic answer.
“Would you like me in front or behind you?”
“Front.”
Regulus briefly takes his fingers from James’s hair and lies down on the floor under the blanket with James. James is still curled into a ball, so Regulus positions himself so he’s a bit underneath him and can wrap his arms around him. As soon as he does, James is burying his head in Regulus’s shoulder. He’s rubbing his forehead there, rubbing and rubbing and rubbing. James is trying to ease the pain in his mind. It doesn’t work, but at least he’s being held by Regulus.
James falls asleep, and this time he doesn’t dream. When he wakes up, he’ll find that when Regulus returned earlier, he brought in a smoothie and a plate of toast under a stasis spell. Maybe James will be able to stomach some, maybe he won’t.
James will still feel awful, and Regulus will still be there.
~*~
It’s a Thursday in March, and James needs to contact his doctor. He feels marginally better than yesterday, but he is still in agony. Regulus stays home again. James would insist he go to work if only his mind didn’t keep returning to the potions and pills he’s sure Reg locked up yesterday and how he could—
So no, James does not insist that Regulus goes to work today. As if Regulus would even agree when he knows James is hurting like this.
They’re in bed again and Regulus has brought some french toast he’d quickly whipped up the magical way. Normally, they cook the Muggle way, and normally, James is strictly forbidden from eating in the bedroom, but these are extenuating circumstances, and Regulus just wants him to eat.
James had managed about half of the smoothie yesterday throughout the course of the day, but refused any of the toast. In this state, it’s hard to get his body to accept food. Eating means putting effort into keeping himself alive, and James could not do that yesterday. Today he really needs to eat, though, he knows that. James does not want to waste in this pit in his mind. He wants to feel good again.
Regulus talks as they eat, giving James something else to focus on. He talks about the new fairy protection law he wants to get traction on, and about the mystery novel he’s currently reading.
It helps immensely, and James finishes a slice and a half of french toast and half an orange before he has to give Regulus the plate to take away.
“I need to owl Sandra,” James says during a pause in Regulus’s musings.
Sandra is James’s lovely psychiatrist/mind healer. She’s a half-blood Muggle doctor who is also trained in magical healing. James wants to contact her today, but the thought of putting a quill to parchment makes him feel as though he may cry.
“How about I floo call her? That would be quickest.” Regulus is an absolute angel.
“Okay. What are you going to tell her?”
“That your depressive symptoms have re-emerged and are severe, and that you need to see her as soon as possible. Is there anything else you’d like me to add to that?”
“No, that’s the main bit. Anything else I can tell her during the appointment.”
Regulus leaves the room to go to their floo, and James falls asleep. When he wakes, Regulus is sitting up next to him with a hand in James’s hair, reading his mystery novel. James snuggles closer and wraps his arms around Regulus’s torso.
“Love you,” he whispers into his husband’s hip.
“I love you too. So much. Go back to sleep, I’ve got you.” And James does.
The next time he wakes up, he cries. He’s hurting so badly. He doesn't know what is going on inside his head, but it's sharp. Regulus holds him, whispering kind words that James doesn’t really hear, but appreciates all the same.
Once James’s tears dry, he actually does feel a few degrees better.
“Will you read to me?”
“Of course. Can we eat first, darling? I can order a curry?” And oh, wow, that actually sounds delicious right now. James nods.
“With a smoothie please?” Regulus smiles, and kisses his forehead.
“Absolutely.”
James doesn’t really leave the bed again all day, but this day ends much better than the one before it. He feels slightly, slightly better. Plus, he has an appointment with his doctor tomorrow, and he’s hopeful she can give him something to help. This is the worst depressive episode he’s had in years, but he knows he’ll make it through.
~*~
It’s a Friday in March, and James showers for the first time in several days. Regulus spends most of the morning coaxing him into it, and then washing him once they’re both in. Still, it’s a success in Regulus’s book, and James feels clean, physically.
Mentally, he’s still a roiling mass of filth and anguish. He doesn't know when it will end, but it needs to end soon. He is being tortured by his own mind, and he doesn't know how much more he can take. He is utterly exhausted and in so. much. pain. He wants more than anything to just go back to sleep and have Regulus hold him, but he has to make it to his appointment.
It’s grueling, but Regulus helps by picking out his clothes and handing them to him one by one as James slowly dresses. Putting effort into anything is agonizing. James thanks every deity he can think of for Regulus Arcturus Potter.
In the waiting room, James grips Regulus’s hand tightly. It’s not that he’s nervous or worried—he’s glad to be here and seeking healthy relief—it’s just that it is taking a Herculean amount of effort not to curl in on himself and shatter to pieces.
Most of the time, James attends his appointments alone. Today, he absolutely cannot let go of Regulus, so they go together. Sandra is warm and helpful, and they agree to increase James’s medication dosage.
The appointment is quick, but James feels the building need to scream. Regulus herds him home, where James collapses face-first onto their bed, screaming and sobbing into their pillows. Regulus is right there with him, stroking his hair and speaking in soft tones.
“Outside clothes” are absolutely forbidden on their bed, but these are extenuating circumstances, so Regulus accepts that he will just wash the blankets later.
James is screaming and screaming and screaming, because it hurts, it hurts, it H U R T S ! He doesn't know what else to do. After a short period of time, the screams taper off and leave only the sobs. Abruptly, James goes absolutely still, face-down.
Regulus notices immediately and firmly nudges him to his side. “Breathe, James. I need you to breathe.”
James doesn't want to breathe. He really wants to stop breathing right now, actually, because maybe if his breathing stops the pain will too. His eyes are squeezed shut and his hands are pressed against his chest, where there is an ache nothing has been able to soothe.
"Please breathe, darling, breathe for me." Alright. For Regulus? James can breathe.
He croaks in a small breath, and then another. Once he’s reliably breathing again he grasps at Regulus, pulling him as close as he can possibly get. They shuffle around and end up with Regulus on his back, James pressed against him. James’s face is in Regulus’s neck, hands tightly gripping his arms. He's shaking and gasping, but he is breathing. Regulus rubs soothing circles around and around on James’s back.
They’re currently on top of their largest and softest blanket, but Regulus summons a different one from the linen closet and settles it over them.
“Oh, the blanket,” James moans, when it lands on them. “I’m so sorry Reg— I didn’t— the blanket—“
Regulus knows he’s talking about the clothes on the bed. It had been a slight point of contention in their relationship once James started getting more comfortable with Regulus and around Regulus’s things. The first time James entered his room and laid down on Regulus’s bed fully clothed, Regulus made excuses for him to leave and scourgified clean all of his bedding. However, they still didn’t feel clean, and Regulus had a complete meltdown.
He ended up going to a Muggle laundromat, still in full panic mode. Once Sirius heard about this incident, he immediately set about modifying a washer and dryer for Regulus. Due to the infused magic, it is physically impossible to ruin or change the texture of anything that gets washed or dried. It’s Regulus’s favorite feature, and it shows just how thoughtful his brother is.
When Regulus tried to explain to James that outside clothes were strictly forbidden on the bed, James apologized for his mistake then earnestly asked why, if the bedding could easily be washed.
Regulus didn’t really have an answer as to why, he just knew that outside clothes were dirty and they made the bed dirty and that made him feel dirty. That was enough for James. He would occasionally forget and slip up in the beginning, but that hadn’t happened in years. Until now.
“It’s alright, my love, everything can be washed.” Regulus repeats James’s old talking point back at him.
“But—“
“James,” Regulus says sternly, daring his husband to argue. “It can be washed.”
James nods his head mournfully but doesn’t try to argue again. Instead, he quickly falls asleep wrapped up in the calm Regulus provides.
Hours later when James wakes, he immediately bursts into tears. Regulus is right there underneath him, and having him there helps.
The day passes in this way, with James hurting and Regulus soothing. At 8PM James takes his new dose of medication and hopes tomorrow is a better day.
~*~
It’s a Saturday in March and it is a better day. James wakes up starving. Regulus did coax him to eat yesterday, but it was much less than what James would normally eat in a day. Now he is ravenous.
Regulus is already awake when James stirs, and he gives James’s face a thorough scan, checking for signs of distress. James leans in and kisses him softly, whispering a gentle “good morning.” He hardly waits for Regulus’s response of the same before he pulls back and speeds to the kitchen, in search of something to eat.
Regulus is quick to follow, but he gives James space. James quickly corrects that and grabs his hand to pull around his waist as he cracks a few eggs into a pan
“Good morning,” James says again, once the eggs are cooking and he’s turned to face Regulus. “I love you. So much.”
“I love you too. How are you feeling?”
“Mm. Hungry. Other than that, not great—honestly not even good! But it’s better than yesterday. Not agonizing. It’s probably not the medicine, since I only changed it yesterday, but I think I’m coming out of it. Yesterday was a bit better than the day before, and today is better than that.” He shrugs. “I think we’re coming up.”
“I am so relieved. I hate when you’re in pain. And even if that changes, you’ll tell me and we’ll get you through it together.” Regulus gently nudges his forehead against James’s. Then he gestures to the eggs. “Will you make some for me?”
“Already am, love.”
“Mm, you’re so good to me.” James makes a face at that.
“The past few days…”
“No.”
James snorts a laugh. “No?”
“No. You’re not any trouble, or inconvenience, or any other negative thing you may be thinking. You’ll agree with me soon. Your mind is just trying to make you hate yourself. I won’t let it.”
“I know, I know. I don’t actually hate myself or think I burden you, it’s just weird up here right now.” James gestures to his head.
“I know, darling.”
After breakfast, James still has some energy left and decides to spend it doing laundry, particularly, washing their bedding. He still feels bad about having outside clothes on the bed, and he wants to fix the problem as soon as possible.
Regulus goes to his home office and catches up on work. There is a lot to do, especially with a fundraiser so close, but luckily Pandora was able to take on the most urgent tasks these past few days.
James wanders into Regulus’s office in between changing loads of laundry, and settles there once it’s all done. There’s a great big armchair in the corner, near Regulus’s desk. It’s James’s favorite spot in the room, because he can sit there and watch Regulus work.
James is a restless man by nature, but he will sit still and watch Regulus for hours. Sometimes, when the timing is right, he can watch the sun’s rays shine directly on Regulus’s face. In these moments, he has to talk himself out of believing Regulus is a genuine god.
Today, James brings in their giant purple blanket—now clean—and curls into a ball on the armchair, dozing in and out of consciousness. His mind still aches, and he's exhausted, but he feels safe here, in Regulus’s space.
James may not feel good—not quite yet, anyway—but this can still be a good day.
Tomorrow will be another Sunday in March. James doesn’t know how he’ll feel then. What he does know is that he won’t feel bad forever, and Regulus will be by his side through it all, and that is enough.