marauderstower | Poly-Marauders Torture Hell

Entry tags:

Poly-Marauders Torture Hell

TIMELINE: 2 mo after Find Out Pregs. Relatively soon after getting Remus to return from being a TRASH HUSBAND. Bun In Oven about 3mo along.

Regulus finds out about the plan before he knows he's even supposed to be involved. He finds out when he overhears Bellatrix talking about it and his blood runs cold. He slips away quiet and hidden to send off a panicked owl with what information he can give without being incriminated.

S.

Do not go home tonight. B going there. Will be V. BAD. Safe elsewhere.

R.

Each emphasized word is underlined twice.

He barely gets it sent off and goes back among the others when Bellatrix slings an arm around his shoulder and asks him if he's excited to go on the mission. He forces a smile at her, but he feels like he's going to vomit. It's easy to get there though, easy to get to the flat with Bellatrix's...methods. They're left waiting for Sirius to return home and Regulus is only barely not shaking. Bellatrix is draped over an armchair like this is a social call, leg hanging over the arm of it. Regulus is standing nervously behind it and looking at the door every so often.

"You know he's not going to change his mind," said soft. They're not wearing their masks tonight.

There's a silence before Bellatrix's voice slithers out from her perch where he can't see her. Her knife smile is in his mind. "That's not the point, darling cousin."

(Regulus isn't religious, obviously, but what he does now is something very like praying.)

WARNINGS: torture, violence, Mean Things Being Said, Bellatrix Lestrange.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TIMELINE: 1 1/2 mo after torture thread. Long enough for Sirius to heal. Lily Preg 4 1/2 mo. No prophecy just yet so Potters not in hiding.

Regulus isn't sure when his vindictive anger has turned into a real plan, but it has over the past few weeks. Kreacher is doing better but he'll never be the same - Regulus wonders if the same will happen to him. He knows what to do though. He creates a replica of Salazar Slytherin's locket and folds a note into it cleanly, sealing it waterproof afterward. He smiles grimly at it and leaves it at home when he goes to meetings. He has to wait for the right time. There's another couple of weeks' preparation afterward, though it's for his new job spying on the Order.

(He has to be able to withstand torture, they say, as though the Order are the ones that torture people for information. It's fine. He can take it. They don't break him. It leaves them satisfied with his skill. Will make the Order believe he's defected, they say. Regulus wonders if they realize they're not being consistent with their reasoning.)

Finally, finally, he's meant to be sent off on his first mission to them. It's harrowing to think about what he's really going to do, but Bellatrix kisses his cheeks and tells him he'll be wonderful and he manages to smile at her, knife-like and smug. If they think he disappeared on the job, it means they won't suspect him of doing anything wrong. They won't go after his family. All right. That night he gathers what he needs, which isn't much. The locket, himself, Kreacher. It's enough.

He almost laughs aloud when he's meant to cut himself to pass wards. What a smug fucking bastard, he thinks, not for the first time, slicing open his palm jagged and raw. It hurts, but he's used to that. He's practically in a maelstrom of worry as they progress, Kreacher leading the way. It's only when they've ridden the small boat all the way to the center - to the potion - that Regulus comes back to reality, staring down at it. Right. He has to do this. Kreacher knows what to do. Make sure Regulus drinks it all no matter what, then switch the Horcrux with the fake locket. Then leave him there to die and go destroy the real one. It's a simple line of reasoning to follow. He starts drinking the potion on his own, dipping the goblet in and bringing it to his lips, hands shaking.

His entire body feels as though it is on fire.

Every nerve in his body is singing in desperate pain, feeling in equal parts burned away and raw - maybe they are both, he doesn't know. He manages to get through half of the potion before Kreacher has to help him, sitting on the ground as the Elf pours more of it down his throat, crying himself. Regulus can't see - what he can see is the way everything terrible he's ever done in his life is played back behind his eyes. Joining the Death Eaters, hurting people, not being able to save Sirius. He's going to die but he deserves it for everything terrible he's done, doesn't mind it because he can finally do some good--

--Kreacher is already switching the lockets when something slices through the torturous haze. Something he hasn't accounted for.

They don't know how to destroy it. Kreacher doesn't.

"Kreacher," he gasps out, desperately - "take--to Dumbledore." It's all he can get out before the thirst consumes him utterly and he crawls toward the water. By the time Kreacher finishes deciding whether Regulus means the locket or himself he's being dragged into the water and there's a yell of alarm, a small hand grabbing him, and a loud crack--

Side-along Apparition with a House Elf hurts more than it does with people. Or maybe it just does because every part of him is dying. But the thing about House Elf magic is it ignores the wards of Wizards and Kreacher is able to take him directly to Dumbledore's office inside Hogwarts, soaking wet and sobbing and laying at his feet bleeding and broken. Even Dumbledore doesn't know what to do with him but Kreacher explains and he can help, settling the younger Black brother in hiding and tending him until he's able to travel.

It takes days, but finally he's well enough to be moved. There's permanent damage to his right leg and he'll never walk without a cane - his nerves really were being singed away - and he's pale and wan and sunken but he's stable and that's all they can ask for right now. Dumbledore chooses where to take him carefully before bringing him along to an Order safe house, pausing outside before sweeping in. It's the house that Sirius is currently at, naturally.

Regulus inhales sharply because he never expected to be here. Never expected to be alive. Never expected to be forced to face Sirius again, to account for his failures with a man that surely hates him. He stands rail straight and resolute in the entry even though he's gripping so tightly to the head of his cane that his knuckles are white. It's a little funny maybe, that he looks well put-together even while so clearly ill.

Finally, Dumbledore speaks, booming as he ever does when he's calling for attention. "Mister Black, if you would come here and assist with our newest ward? I'm afraid I can't stay long."

He's not talking to Regulus.

Edited 2016-10-16 17:17 (UTC)

Healing the broken bones had been quick as those things could be, although it had been a delicate process with how thorough the breaks to his legs had been. Bellatrix was very skilled at what she did. Healing the emotional trauma was taking longer. Sirius doesn't flinch at wands pulled out in his vicinity anymore, at least, and he's counting that as enough of a win. The nightmares are standard fare of being in the middle of a war, anyways, and he's learning to stay quiet even when he wakes from them so that he doesn't startle whoever he's sharing the bed with that night.

It means he's not as well-rested as he could be, but that's standard fare of being in the middle of a war, too.

It also means that he'll still be looking a little tired around the edges when Dumbledore calls for him. It also means that, for a brief moment when he sees Regulus in the doorway, he can't help but freeze. His entire body is immediately screaming for either fight or flight. He isn't entirely certain the brief surprise (the brief fear) is kept from his face.

He takes a shaky breath; another, and the relief and something approaching happiness that settles on his face is far more reflective of how he feels to see his brother.

"Regulus," he says, moving forward once he's certain he's not shaking, "You're here. What happened?"

He wants to fling his arms around his brother in a hug, but he's not certain the other man could take it and he's not certain his heart can stand him flinching away. Instead, one hand is offered nervously but eagerly to him.

"C'mon, let's get you inside. --Thank you, Dumbledore."

Those emotions are not, in fact, kept from Sirius' face and they hit Regulus like a physical blow. He's gotten good at hiding his emotions, at compartmentalizing so that he doesn't get caught but this is... different. Something indescribable floats across his expression, but the main component is hurt, second only to guilt.

He exhales sharp and it's shaking--trembling from a mix of remorse and self-loathing. He's about to speak when Dumbledore does it for him.

"Young Mister Black arrived in my office a few nights ago with something that will change the entire tide of the war, but that means now I must tend to it. I leave him in your capable hands."

It's like he knows--Regulus takes Sirius' hand tentatively, like he thinks it's a trap even though now his brother looks happy--and takes a step forward that thunks hard on the floor with his cane. "Sirius," he breathes, and it's a little hoarse.

Once he's sure they're going to be able to work things out, Dumbledore takes his leave.

The hurt what sticks out to him, of course, and now Sirius is the one with guilt twisting in his gut. But Regulus takes his hand anyways, and Sirius squeezes it as though he can communicate every emotion he's feeling in the moment. His goodbye to Dumbledore is a little short. He's quite distracted.

"Reg," he says, and there's something bright in his voice-- relief, or joy, or something, even Sirius isn't certain, "I was so worried about you. C'mon, let's get you lying down."

He really looks like he needs to lie down.

Regulus waits until Dumbledore is gone before he speaks again. When he does his voice is shaking and he looks like he's about to cry--"I'm fine," he manages, "I don't need to lay down."

It just goes downhill from there, even though Sirius is standing here in front of him, isn't physically broken anymore. "I'm so sorry," he gasps out on a sob, unable to keep it in anymore even though they're still in the entryway. "I'm sorry for--everything, for not being able to stop her, not being able to help you, I had to leave you, I understand if you hate me--"

He hasn't let go of Sirius' hand though, clutching at it desperately. It's like he hasn't even registered the good emotions in Sirius' voice.

Regulus isn't letting go of his hand, but Sirius is letting go of Regulus'. He can't help it. He absolutely has to move in to hug his brother, no matter how public a place they're in. It's an instinct older than everything they've been through.

"Don't apologize," he says fiercely, "You think I don't realize you almost got killed trying to save my life? Merlin, Reg, she was trying to get me to hurt you. Why didn't you just play along?"

Regulus flinches but it's not because it's Sirius - he's too used to the torture now, still too pained from the after-effects. But he relaxes into it, shaking his head and burrowing it into Sirius' shoulder. "I fucked up," he whispers, barely audible.

"If I'd been able to derail her enough she wouldn't have escalated, it wouldn't have gotten so bad--" At Sirius' question his head snaps up to stare at him, eyes wide. "She really would have killed both of us then," he says, "that curse doesn't work if you don't really hate someone. It... It would have failed, and she would have known I was lying about just doing it to be a spy."

Ah. So that's it.

"Sorry," he murmurs at the flinch, but he doesn't pull away because he can't bring himself to, and Regulus in leaning in anyways.

He shakes his head at Regulus increasing list of supposed sins. It isn't until the confession, though, that he stills again, his own eyes widening with surprise, before they melt into something young and vulnerable and hopeful.

"You--" He can't even put it to words. He'd known Regulus had cared, after all, at least enough not to want to harm him. He knows Regulus had said he'd loved him, when he left. It's still a very different thing from not hating him, as well, "--Surely you hate me at least enough for it to have worked a little. I left you."

"Don't be a stupid prick," Regulus says, brow furrowing. "Why the fuck would I hate you? I told you to leave if you could." He finally shakes his head, one hand grasping at Sirius' sleeve. "I was upset, sure. Not angry. I thought you hated me, you always avoided me--"

But he's not trying to guilt Sirius. He stops himself. "I've been working up toward leaving for months now. I was using the pretense of being a spy so I wouldn't get killed, so really you were helping me. I just feel awful."

"I avoided you because I felt awful for leaving you. Every time I saw you, I'd think about--"

But Regulus is speaking again, and Sirius is shaking his head and leaning forward to cautiously bump their foreheads together.

"Don't feel awful. I'm so proud of you. You're out now, nn? And you kept Bella from killing me and Dumbledore just said you've got something that'll turn this around-- Merlin, Reg, you can't believe how grateful I am."

"I just--I thought I messed up. I thought I went too far down the hole. I thought I was too far gone. Maybe I was, then. But that's not your fault." Not his fault their parents got worse, either. He doesn't say that part, though. Sirius doesn't need to know.

He leans in closer when their foreheads touch, his eyes lidding nearly shut. Finally relaxing. His grip tightens though, when Sirius finishes speaking. "He can't die, Sirius. He can't die and I had to stop it. Now we can." He won't explain how he had to do that, either. There's a pause, and his voice gets even lower. "He still thinks I'm spying."

"It was," he says softly, not quite able to let the guilt go, "I left you and couldn't find a way to come back to get you. If she hadn't burnt me off the tree I would've gone back once I realized I couldn't get you out of there."

It's something that he hates with everything in him. It's a guilt that he can't help but let loose, now that they're talking again. It makes it a little easier to listen to what else Regulus has to say, even if it makes his blood run a little cold.

"Will you-- have to go back to him? Or will we be able to-- finish it, before then?"

"I'm glad you didn't come back. It--" he hesitates here before pressing on. "It wasn't a good place for you. You could never conform like that. I slipped under the radar." And became a Death Eater, but, well, we can't have it all.

As for the question--he breathes slow before nodding. "I'll likely have to, yes. I can't... right now. I have to come up with a plausible reason for..." His leg. He grimaces a little as he shifts his stance, having thought about it now. "I can keep him out of my mind, but a bad lie will fall apart anyway. Until then, I can feed him old information that will feel valid but not be useful. I've only just become a part of the Order, after all."

He smiles then and it's a little sharp, a little sly - he's happy to be pulling this on someone he hates, in any case.

Edited 2016-10-16 23:25 (UTC)

"I should've tried harder, for you." Tried harder, so Regulus hadn't had to become a Death Eater.

"We'll figure out a good reason for your leg, then, and-- some things you can tell him that won't people at too much risk." His laugh is rough; proud, "Merlin's beard, Reg, you're such a Slytherin."

And he says it with obvious approval, rather than judgement.

"Speaking of your leg, though-- c'mon. Just because you may not need to be lying down doesn't mean you should be standing on it. Let's get you sitting down."

They can keep talking, obviously. But this close to the front door probably isn't a good idea, as it is.

"Stop," he says, and it's a little hoarse. It's a little too raw even now.

But then he lets out a laugh - a real one, one of those so-rare barking things that makes his head tip back for the sheer joy of it. "Always been, big brother. It's just finally come in handy in a way you can appreciate."

(He says brother like it's something easy they've said every day.)

"All right," is a little quieter, a little calmer, and he nods for emphasis. "Lead the way. I could do for a sit." When they move, he'll have to focus his attention on how he walks - it's only been a few days after all, and less than that he's been walking at all. "Dumbledore says it's permanent."

That laugh is so bright and surprising. The word brother is just as wonderful and as startling. He manages a laugh of his own as he squeezes him just a little tighter for a moment. The tears prickling the edges of his eyes are happy ones, now, as is likely evidenced by the broad smile on his face.

"'ve been appreciating it for a couple months, little brother. Just glad you're finally here so I can tell you so to your face."

He shifts now, careful, to better support Regulus as they start to move towards one of the rooms. The inhale of his breath at the discussion of the damage is a little fretful.

"What happened? --If you want t'talk about it, I mean."

"Lucky for both of us no one else has thought of that fact. Or just think it's suiting them instead." He's compartmentalizing, a little. But it's fine because the happiness is real. He squeezes Sirius back, glad enough to be moving to another room. Once they're there he'll immediately settle to sit, wincing and squeezing the outside of his own thigh to try and settle the muscles there.

"Not actually sure why it's happened. There was... A potion. Had to drink the whole thing and there was no way to bring a sample. It..." He frowns then, brow furrowing. "It was quite bad, and Dumbledore said that it's one of the lasting effects. We don't know yet if there will be others."

Don't know if he will be able to tell Regulus drank it or not. He doesn't say this, either. It's not important.

The words earn a somewhat more tired laugh, "Lucky us."

And they really are, at least a little. What were the odds, after all, that they'd end up together again?

Regulus' words earn a frown. He settles to sit next to his brother, studying him with obvious worry.

"Hopefully we'll-- find out sooner than later, if there is anything."

He'll probably be worrying for a while.

Regulus shakes his head before sighing, stretching his leg out straight because bending it feels worse right now. He tips his head back too, swallowing and closing his eyes. "We think it would have manifested by now. Hoping nothing else pops up, but..."

He wants to be as honest as possible about this. "When I say it was bad at first, it was... Very bad." He breathes out and it's almost shaking. "I was supposed to die. I should have died."

He's happy he didn't, but that doesn't change facts.

"--Oh."

His voice can't help but tremble just slightly at that. He's going to have to lean forward to try to catch at his hand again.

"Thank Merlin you didn't. I don't know--"

He doesn't know how he would've lived with himself, if he had.

"I'll be fine," Regulus is trying to reassure him - and he really thinks he will be. Maybe. Probably? He won't say that part. He breathes out slow, squeezing Sirius' hand.

"Things will be all right, Sirius. Back now, yeah? Not going anywhere." Until he has to.

"Good," he says, squeezing Regulus' hand firmly, "You stay here with me, okay? I love you."

His voice only trembles a little when he says it. The last time the words were directed his brother's way was in the emptiness of his flat, after Bella had tortured him. It's better this time.

"I love you too," Regulus says softly, and his own voice definitely shakes. "I'm still so sorry. I just--I wish I hadn't had to leave you."

The guilt still eats at him. "If I hadn't--if I was better at healing spells, I could have..."

He still isn't looking at him.

The shake of his head is instant as he squeezes Regulus' hand once more.

"You didn't have the time. You would've gotten in trouble. Remus found me and I'm-- I'm all right now."

Mostly. Physically, anyways.

Edited 2016-10-20 14:55 (UTC)

"I could've spun a story. I could've gotten away with it." Maybe. Probably not.

He shakes his head too, this time. "So no, it's not all right. I appreciate you saying it though, and I'm glad you've healed up." Physically.

"I wanted to kill her, but it might've blown my cover."

Regulus Arcturus Black.

Poly-Marauders Torture Hell

DO U WANNA STEAL A HORCRUX

OR MAYBE KILL THE DARK LORD?

I THINK SOME MURDER IS OVERDUE

MAYBE START WITH THESE DEATH EATERS DOWN THE HAAAALLLL

IT GETS A LITTLE LONELY, THAT HOUSE WAS LIKE A TOMB

PEOPLE TORTURED AS YOU WALK BYYYYYYYYY

SIRIUS PLEASE I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE, DON'T RUN OFF ALONE AGAIN

WELL REG MAYBE I'M NOT GOING TO. I'D STAY HERE IF YOU JUST STAY IN BED

WE ONLY HAVE EACH OTHER, IT'S JUST YOU AND ME, WHAT ARE WE GONNA DOOO (DO YOU WANNA STEAL A HORCRUX)

(yes he wanna steal a horcrux) /emotional strings music

we did it :')

indeed ; ;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)