regulus arcturus black. (
rab) wrote in
marauderstower2016-10-15 12:31 pm
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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.
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.
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"Accio wand!" is out of his mouth before the wand even hits the floor, the brittle blackthorn flying into his outstretched hand. He's panting then, reeling from the rush of adrenaline and the sight of Regulus on the floor before him. He hears the words that Regulus is saying, but it's as though they don't quite compute, or his brain can't work fast enough to catch up with their meaning.
He raises his wand again, but hesitates. The powerful blood lust from before has subsided, replaced by a growing sense of disorientation. Regulus' words hold an unexpected note of desperation, but on the other hand, Sirius had expressly named his attackers before going into a coma. Still...
His hand shakes, indecision halting his actions as he stares down at the once noble and haughty Regulus Black.
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Thinking is still a bit of a scattered thing. Turning thoughts into words takes effort. Still, he does his best to turn the concern him into words to address the person that has always been his priority.
"...Reggie--?"
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—he grimaces, shifting where he sits to glare up at Remus, doing his best to look angry instead of hurt. He fails miserably. His voice is sharper anyway, outright bitter. He's the evil one, after all. "Do it. Kill me, get it over with. You're better off this way, don't make me say it again."
Then Sirius' voice filters toward them and it's his name and he has to do his best not to let out a low sob. He's awake. He's calling his name. Maybe he really will be okay. Sirius sounds confused though and he can use it to his advantage. Even if his brother did tell Remus he'd hurt him, he still doesn't want him to have to watch Regulus try to goad Remus into killing him. "Gēge."
It's soft and thick in his throat, like something syrupy or poisonous. "Go ahead and rest some more, gēge. Everything's fine here. Get some more sleep, yeah? It's been a rough few days, I want you to feel better."
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The goading words disturb him because for some reason he hadn't expected that particular tactic (tactic? or defense mechanism?), though it does leave him sure of one thing, at the very least. He realizes with a start – and no small amount of relief – that he was never actually going to kill Regulus (could never kill Regulus), but the realization alone doesn't change anything that he's seen or heard since the attack. Sirius is hurt and they are at war and he cannot let his emotions blind him (
though isn't that exactly what he has been doing?).Then there's a weak query from behind him and Remus nearly forgets himself, halting his turn toward Sirius only because Regulus is speaking in that voice that's barely his own and it terrifies Remus.
"Stop..! Stop, what are you telling him?"
They hadn't known what to expect when Sirius awoke (if he awoke), but the chance that he'd been Imperiused was always there. And now with that dark and honey-smooth tone Regulus sounds for the world like he's issuing a command, not a reassurance, and Sirius could still be in danger and Remus doesn't want to believe the worst anymore but he can't take any chances because Sirius is hurt and they are at war and he acts without thinking:
"Stupefy!"
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He wants out. His chest is tight and he's miserable and Remus hates him and is rounding on him and there's a split second when he thinks Remus really is going to kill him and it terrifies him, honestly terrifies him, he realizes he can't deal with the thought of it—
But it's Stupefy and in that moment Regulus realizes where he truly stands in Remus' heart. He doesn't resist or even try to dodge it. Besides, the brief respite of black oblivion is better than this. When the spell hits he crumples bonelessly, sliding sideways down to rest wholly on the floor instead of half on the door.
(For now, there's nothing.)
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And then Regulus is unconscious on the floor because of Remus, and there's a startled sound rather like a yelp escaping from Sirius. He forgets himself, in the moment, trying to struggle out of the hospital bed and finding himself inhibited by the sheets and his own clumsy, healing limbs. Somehow, he manages to get words out, too, though they're still fairly slurred.
"Moony, what-- the fuck?"
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He feels unsteady on his feet, like he might pass out himself until Sirius' voice brings him crashing back to reality once more. Remus whirls around, practically dropping his wand and Regulus' in his haste to get to Sirius' side. He's dropping to his knees and placing a firm hand on Sirius' shoulder to urge him to lay back, babbling almost incoherently with sheer relief:
"Sirius! Sirius... careful, don't push yourself. You've been hurt – badly. Just lie back, please. How's your head? No, stupid question, forget it just– Merlin, Sirius."
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"Why-- th'hell did you--" There's a wave of nausea that interrupts his train of though; his breath coming in sharp for a moment, "--Stun Reg?"
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"Here, drink this," he says, pressing the glass of water into Sirius' hand. "Can you remember what happened? Bellatrix and–" He can hardly say it aloud despite everything he's just done, but he gulps a breath of air and forces himself to continue. "–and Reglulus. They attacked you. You've got a severe concussion. Broken arm, legs, ribs... For a while we weren't... weren't sure if..."
But he can't finish the statement, still too shocked and horrified by everything that's happened to think about what might have happened.
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"'s not..." He needs a moment to marshal his thoughts; takes a careful sip of his water before Remus can interrupt him to make him, "Was... Bella. Reg tried t'-- save me."
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There's a growing sense of unease in the pit of his stomach – a clenching, tightening feeling in his gut that makes him feel vaguely ill. He doesn't look over to where Regulus lays unconscious on the ground – can't look now – instead focusing all of his attention on Sirius.
"Sirius, are you sure?" He's as afraid to ask as his is to hear the answer – terribly afraid that he may have made a horrible, unforgivable mistake. "When we found you, you said... both of their names and–"
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It's as instant as he can manage, his eyes shutting briefly because it's too much to keep his eyes open, for a moment. There's an odd nausea forming in him that isn't because of the concussion, as he starts to process what Remus means-- what he must have assumed.
"She was... gonna kill me, Moony." His eyes open again as he starts to speak, fighting and failing to hold Remus' gaze, "Already had-- Crucioed me. Tried t'make Reg do it, too."
Words are hard. Thinking and speaking is already exhausting, but this feels crucial. This is clearly a wrong he needs to right.
"He couldn't. Wouldn't. It got... bad." A shadows passes over his face; the memory already a haunting hurt, "He... c'nvinced her to-- keep me alive. Made it hurt less after she-- left."
And now he can't help the guilt that creeps over his face; the way he tries to shift his head to find his brother's still form, "Was tryin'-- t'tell you."
But the words had obviously not come out right at all.
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His hand shakes worse than ever as he lifts Regulus' wand. The whispered "Prior Incantato" is barely audible, because the tightening in his stomach has moved to his chest and he feels like he can barely breathe.
A numbing spell. Intricate and complex. A spell that would have no other use outside of lessening someone's pain to an immense degree. And then...
A protection spell. A powerful one.
Regulus' wand clatters to the floor as the vice grip Remus has on Sirius' arm clamps down even harder. There are tiny silver spots dancing in front of his eyes because he can't breathe – he doesn't remember how – and he sways on his knees next to the bed, tears spilling silently over his cheeks as he turns wide eyes on Sirius in stunned disbelief.
"Sirius–" he gasps, still light-headed though he manages to draw in a lungfull of air even as his vision swims dangerously. "I think I've made... a terrible mistake..."
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He inhales sharply at the sight of the protection spell; a small and sudden bit of clarity slipping into place. He'd wondered how the Cruciatus curse had stopped hurting as much-- hadn't had time to think of the possibility of Regulus protecting him. A loose, overwhelmed sob escapes his lips before Remus drops his brother's wand, turning to him with horror etched into his face and regret in his words.
It takes him a moment to formulate words, because he's trying to get his thoughts back together and trying not to tremble with his weeping. His hand squeezes back at Remus shakily; wearily.
"....Breathe," he finally manages, before his eyes shut tiredly. It's too much. He's still weak; barely able to hold the conversation now. Eventually, though, he gets the quiet words out; eyes still shut, "Wake-- up my brother, Remus."
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He doesn't know the answers. He feels numb, a gaping hole opening up and slowly growing inside of him, filling his chest where his heart should be as he climbs shakily to his feet, unsure for a moment if he'll even be able to stand.
But he does stand. And he picks up Regulus' wand. And he moves to Regulus as though through a dream, the sounds of Sirius' ragged breathing and his own short, quick gasps for air growing muffled until all he can hear is the rushing in his ears as he kneels down next to the pale-faced boy – because that's what he is, really. It's what they all are. Children, forced to grow up to fast, fated to make mistakes that nobody twice their age should have to bear.
Regulus look so small where he lays, his delicate features pale against the hard floor, and Remus can't help but to reach out, his quivering fingertips brushing sorrowfully over one high cheekbone. Probably the last time he'll ever touch that face.
"Renneverate," he whispers, letting his hand drop away so that he won't be touching Regulus when he wakes. He hasn't the right to touch him anymore – probably won't even be able to help him up off the ground – and he can't stem the flow of tears that he as of yet refuses to give any voice to.
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He remembers very suddenly and his first reaction isn't anger or that heartfelt begging to die. No, it's something instinctive, ingrained, and if Sirius is capable of looking he'll recognize exactly what it is. It's familiar when his breath catches sharply in his throat, eyes wide and wet and terrified. The way he moves too, a jerking scramble away from him (not back into the door but sideways) using his hands that causes him to nearly topple all over again.
It's the same way he'd reacted the first time their parents had hit him - betrayed by and fear of someone that's meant to love him, to protect him. His breathing is a little ragged still and he doesn't speak, just stares at him unseeingly. He doesn't even register that Remus is crying.
His gaze clears as it flicks down to the wand in Remus' hand and that kicked dog noise escapes his throat again. He can't help it. "Going to finish the job?" It's hoarse, and he can't even pretend it's something other than begging. For death or absolution, he's not sure which.
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He regrets it almost instantly, because that reaction is one that hurts more than almost anything. That's got him trying to fight his way out of the bed once more, this time nearly falling off it before the charms protecting patients from doing exactly that have him forced back onto the bed again. There's a muffled oath of pain when he nearly tumbles out and another for when he's pushed back on.
His voice is a soft sob when he manages to speak, fighting for Regulus' attention.
"Dìdì... dìdì, 'm sorry," he says, "He knows you... helped, now. I didn't-- tell him well 'nough, when they... found me. He d-didn't know."
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Behind him, Sirius is saying something – trying to excuse what he's done – but there is no excuse. He's proved himself the monster beyond the shadow of a doubt; it's there in Regulus' eyes and in the pain with which he moves. There's no forgiveness for monsters like him, and there's no going back.
"No," he hears himself say, and like every other sound in the room it sounds oddly muffled. Slowly, so as not to frighten Regulus any more than is strictly necessary, he sets the blackthorn wand on the ground, sliding it toward the cowering Slyherin. He lets go when the wand is just at the extent of his arm's reach, pulling back and closing his eyes.
"But you can, if you want. I won't stop you."
No going back.
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He quiets and sits up again when Remus speaks, when he moves — he eyes the elder warily, ready to scramble back again if need be. He doesn't need to though, and snatches up his wand so soon as it's close enough. He holds it in a white-knuckled grip and then—lets out a crazy little laugh at the absurdity of it all.
He feels nothing. "What the fuck," he manages to spit, "makes you think that I'd want to kill you?"
It's patently clear he doesn't mean Sirius, either.
"I can't even fake a Cruciatus on someone I love, much less kill them."
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Another feeble struggle against the charms holding him in. The spells monitoring his vitals make a soft sound of concern as he gets more and more restless; nothing immediately life-threatening but honest enough given the state he's working himself up to. It's honestly a miracle he hasn't lost consciousness again.
And then Remus is saying those horrible words and he lets loose another sob.
"Please-- stop," he pleads with both of them, the room starting to spin again and his eyes shutting briefly to fight off the dizziness.
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He's crying a bit more noticeably now, the silent tears having turned to soft gasps verging on actual sobs and he knows he's about to lose it. It's the flashes of bright color from the spells over Sirius' bed that spur him into movement, and he pushes himself to his feet, reaching out blindly for the wall to steady himself.
"I should... go. Find a–" His throat feels thick, and he can barely get the words out as he stumbles toward the door. "–Healer." He's very nearly through it when he pauses, head still hung so that his hair falls over his eyes and unable to look at Sirius or Regulus. His last words come as a barely audible whisper before he bolts from the room:
"I'm sorry, Reg."
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He still doesn't say anything as Remus leaves. He wonders if he'll even come back. Finally he stands slowly, mechanically, tucking his wand away in his robes. He moves over to Sirius then, looking at him with a mix of guilt and pain before he reaches out tentatively to stroke over his brother's hair. He feels hollow.
"Calm down, gēge. Everything is okay. It was just a misunderstanding, things will be all right. I'll be all right too." He's only barely able to make sure his hand doesn't tremble. "I love you, okay? I'm sorry I couldn't help more but I'm glad I could at least stop her from killing you."
A breath. All his words feel like ash in his mouth. "I know better, now. Better than to let people hurt those I love."
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He starts to say something, but he doesn't even get the name of his friend out before the other man's gone. It's got another loose sob escaping his lips; has him reaching for Regulus before his brother even starts to move. Once Regulus has brushed lightly at his hair, he lets his unhurt hand reach up, trying to grasp at the young man's hand.
"I-- love you," he says, earnest despite the way he's struggling to keep his gaze focused on Regulus. He's very obviously getting woozy again, "So much, dìdì. Thanks for-- looking out f'r me."
His eyes slip shut again, stay closed for a moment, before he manages.
"Y'did-- good, Reggie."
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He breaks down again the moment he enters the empty hospital room, collapsing into a chair where he allows the events of the past twenty-four hours to hit him full force, shoulders shaking with the intensity of his sobs.
He'd ducked away not because he wanted to be alone, but because he didn't want Sirius or Regulus to see him in their path should either of them have cause to come this way. He's done enough for one lifetime – to the both of them – and the best thing (the only thing) that he can do for either of them now is to stay out of their way and let them get on with their lives.
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It's not exactly a lie so it falls easily from his mouth. When the Healer returns without Remus he grimaces slightly, unsure if he's annoyed or even more hurt. It's stupid. He refuses to step away from his brother so she has to work around him, keeping a slight distance because he exudes an aura of don't touch me so strong it's almost palpable.
His thumb rubs at the back of Sirius' hand the entire time, waiting for her to clear him. She's glad he managed to wake up, in any case.
Soon enough he'll stalk off to find Remus. Until then, he'll be right here.
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