Reg Kept His Arms Firmly Around Caradoc, Fingers Running Gently Up And Down His Side To Try And Soothe

" i know i will be dead long before you read this but i want you to know that it was i who discovered your secret. "

—REGULUS A. BLACK

Irritated and overstimulated from the busy shopping street, Regulus wasn't trying to be a pain to anyone else and yet the other woman's attitude immediately got his back up. Drawing on every inch of bitterness his mother taught him, Regulus stared at Georgette with a cool stare. "You're not the only one in a time crunch, so you can wait your turn politely," he said, his gaze dipping to the mess of her hands. "You can't brew in that state, surely. You might be better going to Mungos for a pre-brewed potion. These ingredients are going to do nothing for you," he said haughtily, before reaching for a vial of Jewelweed.

While working with her hands and the splinters that lived in Georgette's fingers was something she lived for, there were times that she had to get some of the wood out of her skin. Normally she had a brew set up for such occasions but had realized, while bleeding, that the last drop wasn't going to do what was needed to repair her skin. Damn. She hated leaving the store but she couldn't work well if her hands were to the point they had found themselves -- she had gone a little too far without healing herself properly. It would be great to say it was the first time but when it came to her work that wasn't the case nor would it be the last.

She washed her hands with soap and water then gathered her things to run to the Apothecary, rushing between people, trying to get the errand done as quickly as possible. Unfortunately when she got into the store someone was standing just where she needed to be. If Georgette had it her way she would have just shoved him out of the way and not thought twice about it but there were too many people around and she didn't want to deal with attention from others. "I don't know who you think you are but some of us are in a bit of a time crunch so if you could --" she motioned for him to shove off while trying desperately not to shove him herself.

"I'd be perfectly happy, I think. I have all the friends that I need, I don't need any new ones," Regulus said with a shrug. The last thing he needed was more people in his life to disappoint. "I just can't see how you can make friends from a brief conversation in public...it's surface level at best."

"You would really prefer to never have to talk to anyone again? Wouldn't that be terribly lonely? How would you make new friends?" They were so fundamentally different it seemed like each of them struggled to understand the other person.

Reg leant his head gently against the top of Caradoc's, relaxing into the comfort and security he found when his boyfriend was near. "I won't tell you not to be scared. I'm terrified, more so now...and now I have someone other than just me to worry about. Whatever comes, we'll face it together...be it good, or bad," he said, trying to be strong for the both of them despite the anxiety that seemed to be constantly nestled within his soul. "I don't want any regrets either, or any 'what could have beens'. I love you, my dear. I love you and I'm choosing you over anything else."

Reg considered Caradoc's words before sighing. "The likelihood of them not being related to me is slim...all purebloods seem to be related in one way or another, it's just a matter of closeness. Come back here when you're done, we can debrief from it all. I might be able to help you identify some of the people you fight against, then you can pass the information to Edgar. For now, why don't we go upstairs? I'm exhausted, let's head to bed."

Fin.

“Yeah, I hope the tide changes too,” Caradoc murmured, leaning his head against Regulus’s shoulder. “But I’m scared. Even going home makes—makes me scared. Not a ton of people know me, I know that, but muggle-borns are getting captured and killed every day. I-I don’t want to die, Reg. I want to have a life with you. If something . . . If something ever happens to me, I just . . . I don’t want to have any regrets, you know? I don’t think I can fix things up with my parents, but I can have a relationship with you. And that’s what I want.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, trying to keep calm, trying not to think about all the horrors in their world right now. “I have another mission tomorrow—for the Order. Gonna try and get some Death Eater intel. Not exactly sure who we’re going after, but I don’t think it’s anyone related to you,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll get back from late.” And hopefully he wouldn’t need to visit St. Mungos, he thought to himself.

VILLANELLE Killing Eve / 4.08

It was shameful, truly, that they'd had to go through such loops to meet up as brothers. To meet in a room booked under another man's name, under heavy warding, and even then to be so suspicious of each other than they couldn't even sit down casually. He knew that Sirius' air of nonchalance was a mask, and he wasn't sure that his brother would ever trust him fully again. Their relationship was broken, potentially beyond repair, but Regulus wanted to at least try. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't try.

Nodding slowly at Sirius words, Regulus swallowed back a lump of emotion in his throat. The words he had practiced were gone as he stared at his brother, fearing that if he fucked this up that he would be lost to him forever. "It won't come as a surprise to you that our parents marched me in front of the Dark Lord as early as they could. They didn't want to risk it. And I wanted to do the right thing, to make them proud. That's all I've ever wanted. To be a good son, to be a good brother. You were gone, so they were all I had left," he said, his gaze falling. "But I was awful at it all. I was having lessons to teach me to be better. For all intents and purposes, there was nothing stopping me. My magic is strong, I have an iron-clad will like a true Black, and I had an outstanding teacher. I could have been like Bellatrix, I know I could. But I had a mental block that was preventing me from casting truly dark magic, because in my heart I knew it was wrong. I knew it. And I can't live like that any more. I can't fight for their cause."

Regulus lifted his gaze, his eyes fixed intently on Sirius. "I'm not sure I believe in your Order. I'm not sure they have a chance at all. But I'm hoping that by providing them with information, it will give the Order an edge. A way in. He's just a man....a very powerful man, but he's just a man. The regime has to be undermined, the Death Eaters...some of them just seek power. If we can prompt some in-fighting, along with disrupting raids and attacks...I don't know, maybe it's a chance." He paused for a moment, stuffing his hands in his pockets to disguise the shake. "I know this doesn't fix anything. I don't expect you to trust me, I don't expect anything from you. I know you have your own life, and I know there's no place in it for me any more. I'm not asking for anything at all. But I wanted you to hear it from me."

Sirius put his hands casually in his pocket, his hand fingering his wand in his pocket. While he leaned against the door, looking every bit the part of a bored and unbothered man, he was alert. He leaned against the door so he could hear everything on the other side, his hand in his pocket so he could whip his wand out at a moment's notice. Some part of him - the part that had been working with the Order for years - thought this might be an ambush. It would be just his look to speak to his brother for the first time in years and end up killed because of it a few days later. He still came though, because despite the estranged years between them he just couldn't believe Regulus would do that to him. He hoped as much anyway.

His face was set, unreadable - a skill they had both learned from all their years in the Black family manor. "Edgar told me something alright," Sirius said with an unamused laugh. "But I want to hear what you have to say." Double agent. Yeah right. Sirius had it in his mind to tell Dumbledore he should keep an eye on Edgar, not entirely sure someone wasn't doing an Unforgivable on him if he was so easily convinced of something so stupid. All that had been proved to Sirius so far was that he was right to think Regulus had followed in Bellatrix's footsteps; the two of them doing the Black family proud as they traipsed after Voldemort.

Every time he thought about what he had done, Regulus was filled with an impending sense of doom. He'd sold his soul to a man he didn't trust, a man who would use the information he gave without consideration to the danger it put Regulus in. Sure, protectors were being provided - but really, what was a few Order agents against the might of his extremist family? If his betrayal was revealed, the Dark Lord was the very least of Regulus' problems. Bellatrix would flay him alive, he knew it. Still, he had to remain firm and confident in his decision - he couldn't continue as he had been, and therefore something had to change.

The abruptness with which Regulus had stood up had disrupted the table and the pint of beer toppled over, liquid running over the side of the table and into his shoes. "Motherfucker," he cursed, fumbling for his wand. He cast silencing charms over the room before vanishing the beer. "You can fuck off. Go back to where you came from, and tell Edgar Bones to find me someone else. This is not happening. Is he taking the actual piss?" Regulus ranted furiously. With his wand still in hand, he conjured a bottle of firewhiskey and practically ripped the lid off before lifting the bottle to his lips. It was a sick irony, he supposed, that his own instructions had led to James Potter being before him once again. "Get out. Get out."

There was a double-agent working for the Order. He'd had his own suspicions, but the rumours were confirmed once and for all when James had been asked to act as a protector for them. Of course, he had jumped at the chance. It was an honour, really; the amount of bravery that must take was nothing less than admirable, and James meant it with everything he had when he said he would protect them with his life. The technicalities of their arrangement had been discussed briefly. He had been sworn to secrecy – he was not even to tell Lily, or Sirius – at least for the time being, and so he had left his girlfriend at home with a poor excuse as to why he had to go out. She was far too clever to believe it, but known enough not to question it.

Eyes landed on the black-haired boy as soon as he ascended the spiral staircase leading to the private room that had been arranged for the two of them to make their acquaintance. James recognised the curve of his nose, the set of his jaw at once. Of course he did. He could recognise it in darkness. Mouth agape, it took him several seconds to regain any sort of composure – much less the ability to speak. "Regulus?" His voice was incredulous.

Regulus sometimes felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he wasn't sure what to do with that feeling. It wasn't as if there was anything he could put down to make it easier - he enjoyed his job, so he was hesitant to let go of his work. He could hardly step away from the cause that he had pledged his life to, and since Sirius had turned his back on their family, his parents had doubled down on ensuring that Regulus stayed on the right path. Their focus was stifling, and it had hardly lessened since Regulus moved out to live alone. All he could do was his best, and Regulus was terrified that his best wasn't good enough.

Enter Rabastan, a mentor Regulus had turned to when his eldest cousin's attention became too much. He was grateful, truly, and yet Regulus knew that he shouldn't need extra tuition to be able to cast an unforgivable. He was the male heir to the House of Black, and he couldn't cast an unforgivable without his stomach churning...it was pathetic, and he knew it. "Yes, the imperius curse...I've never managed to do it strongly before," he said, twirling his wand between his fingers. He nodded at the instruction, and he could almost hear his mother's high pitched voice shrieking that he had to mean it.

Summoning the anger and anxiety that was always simmering beneath the surface of his emotions, Regulus turned his wand towards Rabastan. "Imperio," Regulus cursed, willing Rabastan to do some ballet pirouettes.

Rabastan liked the youngest Black. It had been with an unusual generosity that he'd taken Regulus under his wing when he'd joined the Death Eaters. There was something akin to recognition in the act. He'd seen something in Regulus that resonated. Perhaps it was his position as the second son of a noble house, and the weighty expectation that came with that status. Rabastan did not think on it. He was merely willing to give Regulus his time.

He had of course set the enchantments already. But rather than extinguish the other wizard's enthusiasm, he permitted him to add his own spells to the mix, watching all the while and judging his choices. He approved. Regulus was cautious and thorough.

"You'll learn," he replied, stepping closer. A smile drifted his lips fleetingly, fading as quickly as the breeze that passed through the glade where they stood. There was no need for a mask, here. Nothing would get through the spells without him knowing about it in good time. "So, the Imperius Curse? Cast it on me first. Let me see what you can do." Then he slowly grinned, wickedly and full of mirth. "Just don't make me do anything too absurd."

"No rule, but maybe there should be....too often I've been here first, and someone else has just waltzed along and stolen the last vial and then I have to wait for a restock," Reg said with a roll of his eyes. He'd started a small stock of potions ingredients at home, but it never seemed to be enough. "A store that doesn't seem to be able to keep the correct amount of stock in, Longbottom."

"Last I checked, there isn't a rule against browsing the same shelf." Frank said lightly. The Blacks were something else these days, their words cut as sharp as knives. Every single one of them had it and Frank didn't particularly enjoy it. "It's a store, Regulus."

The longer he sat there, the heavier the weight of Lucius' judgment seemed to be. They were family now, and Regulus' family seemed to be dwindling every time he blinked. He ached for more - not that he thought he would find that in Lucius Malfoy. It was the pureblooded way to be like this with family, and Regulus was tired of constantly second-guessing himself around those who were meant to care. He was alone in the world, more alone than ever, and he was trying to cling to any sort of familial relationship he had - including that with his new, judgy cousin-in-law. "Hmm, maybe....but this is tastier. I've got Black family genes, I'm all skin and bones, I don't need to worry about eating several pies," he shrugged, pushing his plate away. Lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, Reg looked at Lucius and asked "how are you adjusting to having Narcissa's hobbies in your home? She's got a fascinating collection," he commented, curious as to how Lucius was adjusting to that. "Happy wife, happy life...that's what they say, right? Not that I'd know."

Lucius took a moment to let his attention drift from the pie on the table, up to the wizard in front of him. Words hung on the tip of his tongue, ready to judge on the need to eat two pies, though, they faded away, not in the mood to end up in any real banter. He wanted a night to relax from his duties he did earlier before heading home to his wife.

"You do not think substance might be better?" Get a proper meal in to fuel him. "The food here isn't that horrid." He had better at other establishments. "Married life is fine." They had spent a lot of time together, but it was nice knowing that at the end of the night, she did not have to leave, a comfort waking up to her beside him. "That is good to know. I do not like when she is unhappy."