marauderstower | Poly-Marauders Torture Hell

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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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Regulus sees the hesitation in Remus and he knows he's missing his chance to end things. To get it over with, to make things better for everyone—

—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."

His resolve is crumbling now, disintegrating into a thousand tiny pieces and slipping through his fingers like sand. The myriad faces that Regulus has shown since entering the room have thrown Remus off kilter despite his better efforts to remain focused, and he finds that confusion and uncertainty are quickly moving in to take up residence where he'd been so certain of what he had to do before.

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!"

He hadn't even realized his voice sounds snakelike - but when Remus yells he startles mid-word, staring up at him with wide eyes and genuine surprise and alarm.

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.)

Edited (casually improves situation slightly) 2016-11-01 20:49 (UTC)

It's a lot to follow at once. He's still trying to process the initial situation, his mind sluggish from the fogginess of sleep and the lingering head injury. But then everything else happens, and it's too much, too fast. He doesn't know if he's even blinked more than once before things escalate.

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?"

You would have thought he'd stunned himself, the way he freezes when Regulus hits the floor. He'd done that – him – and even the soft rustle that's the only accompanying sound to Regulus' landing seems to echo deafeningly in his ears.

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."

It's hard to make his eyes focus properly when Remus' face swims into view, but at least he hasn't passed out again. He lets himself be guided back down because now that he's conscious and trying to move there's a glimmer of pain at the edges of his senses, and he'd rather avoid that. Plus, now that the other man is close, he doesn't need to get up, necessarily. His uninjured had lifts to grip at Remus' arm, tight as he can manage it.

"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?"

He's already reaching for the pitcher of water next to Sirius' bed, gaze flitting worriedly toward the diagnostic charms that monitor Sirius' vitals. Not that any of the rotating colors make much sense to him, but Sirius seems stable, and that's what matters right now.

"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.

He takes the water glass but doesn't drink it, distracted by Remus' words. The shake of his head is slow; careful.

"'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."

"He... what?"

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–"

"Yeah."

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.

His heart throbs in his chest with every word that falls from Sirius' lips. The hand he didn't even realize was grasping Sirius' arm (the uninjured one, thankfully), tightens with every struggled phrase that hits his ears, and he doesn't want to believe what he's hearing. Not that he doesn't want to believe in Regulus' innocence; rather, he doesn't want to believe that he could have made such a grievous error. And still, he has to be sure. No chances – that's what he'd promised both himself and Sirius, even if the latter hadn't been conscious to hear it. They couldn't afford to be wrong about this.

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..."

The guilt in his gut grows as Remus' hand tightens around his. It explodes almost completely was he watches the spells emerge from the tip of his brother's wand.

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."

Remus nods mutely, and still it's a moment before he can gather the courage to turn and face what he's done to the person he loves more than anyone in the world. Can he even claim that anymore? Could he have done this to someone he really loved? Would he have believed so wholeheartedly that Regulus was evil if Regulus really meant as much to him as Remus thought he did?

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.

It takes a moment for Regulus to come to properly. It's like waking through a fog, his body sore and aching but he barely notices that because his mind is scrambling to remember something, something important—and then he opens his eyes Remus' face swims into view and he remembers.

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.

He feels but doesn't see Remus leave his side. He's too busy struggling to get his stomach to settle; get his mind to be something like steady again. When he hears Remus wake up Regulus, though, he has to open his eyes.

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."

Nothing breaks inside of him at the sight of Regulus scrambling away in terror, because there's nothing left in him to break. He watches numbly, tears still flowing freely but heart so broken that he's simply beyond feeling anything at this point.

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.

Regulus lets out a low sob when Sirius speaks, dropping onto his side so that he can cover his face with his hands. He just lets it happen, breathing raggedly and almost hyperventilating all over again. "Don't," he whispers, "it's not your fault, gēge. I should have been better. I should have stopped her sooner. I shouldn't have let her hurt you. Besides, I'm the one of us a Death Eater, I deserve it—"

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."

"No. No, dìdì, 's not-- your fault."

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.

He'd thought he was beyond feeling any more pain, but each of Regulus' words hits him like a blow. He takes every one of them in turn, though, head bowed and shoulders hunched, hands balled into fists on the floor, because he deserves them. He's the reason that Regulus is at this point, and anything that happens from here on, he's entirely to blame.

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."

Regulus just sits there for a very long time, silent and bitter and watching Remus blankly because he doesn't know what to do. The worst part is he can't blame Remus for being so ready to believe he could do it, hurt as he is by it. Sirius isn't the one fallen from grace. Regulus is.

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."

"Remus--"

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."

Remus still has the presence of mind to locate a Healer once he's left, wiping his eyes before motioning the green-clad witch down the hall towards Sirius' room. After that, he moves blindly, staggering away past rows of empty chairs until he spies a door opening onto a darkened room.

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.

Regulus holds onto Sirius' hand like it's a lifeline, his other moving to smooth over Sirius' hair again before kissing his forehead. "I'm going to take care of everything, okay? It'll be all right."

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.

"'s long as-- y're careful," he mumbles, fumblingly managing to squeeze his brother's hand again. He may be concussed and on his way out of consciousness again, but he does still know his brother-- even if he's not quite catching on to the intricacies of exactly how distressed Regulus is.

He's still fighting to stay awake when the Healer finally comes in, and there's a flicker in his expression when he notes her lack of accompaniment. She fusses over him, frowning over what the diagnostic charms are telling her and maneuver her way around the stubbornly still Regulus.

Soon enough she's got him downing a painkilling potion so that she can lift the numbing spell off of him. She's checking in to see how badly his head injury is making him feel. She's explaining that head injuries are delicate things and they try to avoid doing too much spellwork for fear of getting something wrong.

"We can take the edge off the symptoms, perhaps," she tells him, "But fully making them go away-- It's too risky. We already weren't entirely certain you'd regain proper consciousness and we don't want to cause that to be a threat again."

It makes sense, really. It's still got Sirius grumbling a little; irritated at having to stay in bed a little longer when he's clearly needed by his best friend and brother at least, if not the rest of the war.

"The more you rest now, the faster we'll be able to release you," the Healer chides back in response, "Really, counterintuitive though it may be, you ought to sleep more. The fact you managed to be awake for-- more than a minute is a good sign that you're out of the woods when it comes to going completely comatose. And you really musn't try to get out of bed just yet. The spell says you were clearly in a lot of distress while trying."

That earns a bitter snort out of Sirius as he hums his agreement. Satisfied that he's at least heard the words if not quite planned on listening to them, the Healer makes a few notes before bidding them both farewell.

Sirius slumps a little more back into the pillow, when she goes, the exhaustion he was trying to hide clearly visible now, as his concern for his brother. This time when Sirius squeezes his hand, it's a lot weaker. The flutter of his eyelids indicates he really ought to be heading back into sleep.

"...He d-didn't know," he murmurs again, softer now, "'nd everyone's on edge nowadays. Please don't-- hate each other 'cause of me. Or... blame y'rselves."

"Always careful, you know me. Quick and quiet and careful." Another lie falling smoothly from his mouth. He wonders how much his sins have compounded.

Regulus listens carefully to everything the Healer has to say, taking it in and cataloging it for later. It's good to know, and once she leaves Regulus turns his attention fully back to his brother, nodding and holding onto his hand. "I know," he lies, "I know now that we've just made mistakes. I'll go talk to him, things will be all right." He's repeating himself purposefully to sink the thought into Sirius' mind, to ease him.

"I love you," he murmurs, and waits for him to drop off to sleep. It's only then that he moves, pressing the back of Sirius' hand to his own forehead. These affections they learned themselves, bucking tradition and their parents. It's all right. They've had each other, at least. "I'm not like them," he whispers when he's sure Sirius won't wake, "I'm not."

Telling himself so he can be sure. Finally he lets go, making sure his brother is settled in and comfortable before he leaves the room. It takes him ages to find Remus, stalking from room to room and up and down the hall, searching for any sign of him. He's good at this though, well-practiced. Finally he's at the room Remus is in, opening the door and stepping inside before closing it behind him, standing there to block the way out.

"Remus." He hates himself and is afraid of Remus even now, but he has to do this. Can't let it go on like this. His voice is firm but not cold, somehow.

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