InsaneJournal

Sirius was sprawled over the couch with the kind of casual elegance he was known for. If you ignored the three empty beer bottles lying forgotten on the carpet or the overflowing ashtray. The flat, miraculously, had been tidied, and the dulcet tones of the Sex Pistols and died away. The only sound filling the sitting room now was the muffled chatter of the television, which cast blue, flickering light over Sirius’ face as he stared dully at it. He’d never understood why Muggles went for this thing so much. It was alright, he supposed. But he could hardly spend a whole day with it. He’d only been staring all of tonight in a vague attempt to distract himself from the fact that Regulus had gone out and had not come back. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

Sirius sighed, peering over to the window, where the morning light was battling to break through the drawn curtains. For a moment he considered texting his brother again, but knew that Regulus had probably chosen to either ignore all messages or turn the bloody PDA off completely. Sirius was just flipping the silver box over in his hand, considering texting Araidne to see if she was free, when the door creaked.

Sirius sat up so quickly an arrow of pain shot up his back, but he ignored it and peered instead over the back of the sofa, usually pristine hair crumpled where he’d been resting against a cushion. Relief surged briefly through him like a wave, releasing tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in the long muscles across his back, letting him breathe properly for the first time in hours. Then it was quickly replaced by something else, something that bubbled in his stomach and made his cheeks flush angrily.

“You’re a fucking wanker, you know that?”

Heavy feet carried Regulus up the single flight of stairs to his second floor flat, cursing the fact that of course it wasn’t on the first floor, but grateful none the less that he didn’t have to climb all the way to the top floor just to slip into his bed. He’d just started thinking of that place as his, which somewhere in the back of his mind he knew was a bad thing, because whatever truce he had with his brother was too much of a good thing, his pessimism, as always, winning out.

Salazar. He just wanted that bed. The night before had gone predictably well, leaving Regulus at that place were he could just sleep for days, a feat considering the past three nights he’d fallen back into insomnia - that was the cycle, getting wasted bought him two days of sleep, three if he was lucky before his memories took over his dreams and then he couldn’t sleep for reliving the past every night, and then he was back at getting wasted.

He had not counted on anyone being up when he arrived, least of all Sirius, despite the fact they now shared living arrangements. Regulus still found it difficult to wrap his mind around the idea he should count on Sirius, the last three years having undone all the previous. It was a hard switch to make going from trusting no one for so long to the possibility he could trust Sirius again.

“Uh,” he was momentarily taken aback when Sirius’ angry face appeared over the back of the sofa, “good morning to you too?”

Sirius did a rather good jump of half jumping, half falling off the couch, leaving a long indentation where he’d spent the night and loping around with his arms crossed over his crumpled t-shirt. He leaned against the back of the seat, one ankle crossed over another, dragging a critical eye up his brother’s dishevelled form. If there had been any doubt over where Regulus had been, it was almost completely wiped from his mind by the bags under his siblings eyes and the exhausted droop of his shoulders.

“You look like shit,” he commented, remembering a few days ago when Eames had told him exactly the same thing. There was a long silence, where Sirius cocked his head in an almost canine fashion, half expecting some confession or... something to come tumbling from Regulus. But there was just silence, so after a moment the dramatic lines of Sirius’ face distorted and twisted into an expression torn somewhere between disgust and disappointment. “Are you a fucking idiot, Regulus? I’ve been up all night waiting for you!”

Oops. That second bit wasn’t something he’d planned on admitting. Not that there was a whole lot of hiding it., with the rubbish and the state of the sofa. Sirius took a deep breath, trying to save face by tilting his chin proudly up and fixing Regulus with his best irritated gaze.

What could Regulus say? He did look like shit, he knew it, he felt it, damn he felt it, in a conversation face to face his poor looks were something difficult to hide and dismiss. He settled for a very small shrug, anything bigger and that might just spend his energy, and remained silent. He threw in a dispassionate stare for good measure, knowing that it would tick Sirius off, and Regulus was sort of in that kind of mood after that kind of admission from his brother.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” This was not the best response, something that might explain why Regulus ducked out of life about once a week would be better, an apology even more so, but Regulus wasn’t there yet. And the disappointment coming off of Sirius in waves only fed Regulus in all the wrong ways. “No, really, I didn’t.”

He moved to the cupboard to retrieve a glass, an act as much to get water as it was to dismiss his brother’s concerns. “Tell you what, next time I’ll just do it here.”

If one thing had come from almost fifteen years of their living together, it was the ability for both brothers to hit precisely the right nerve to set the other off. Regulus’ blasé attitude towards his quite obvious problem, for some reason, irritated Sirius more than if he’d fired a string of insults his way. He wasn’t sure why, exactly - he’d spent over four years not caring (or at least convincing himself he didn’t care) what Regulus got up to. But it hadn’t been flaunted under his nose then. He’d suspected, but he hadn’t had to watch as his little brother self-destructed. Of course, it was quite alright for Sirius to implode, but for some reason when Reg tried it...

“You,” Sirius snarled to the back of Regulus’ head, “You are such a fucked up, selfish little twat, aren’t you? I mean... What the fuck is your problem?” He turned angrily, scooping up the empty green beer bottles and moving after Regulus to slam them loudly down on the counter. The crash of glass against the surface rang through the flat as Sirius braced both hands of the counter, forcing himself to breathe through his nose as Regulus busied himself getting water.

Regulus closed his eyes when Sirius slammed the bottles on the counter, if he was quicker on his toes it would have been more like a blink and a flinch as it was frighteningly hostile, but Regulus was a bit slow at the moment. He kept his eyes closed as Sirius spat at him, what did it matter, Sirius couldn’t see how that affected him. He only turned back to face his brother when there seemed to be a lull in the dramatics from Sirius.

Everything in Regulus screamed that he should back down, that he should just explain to Sirius that he needed this one night week to function as anything resembling normal the rest of the time. That sometimes the weight of what he’d done, chosen of his own volition or forced into whether through fear or actual physical coercion, was too much for him to accept and still live without some kind of retribution meted out against him. That he needed that two or three hours of nothingness as much as he needed the pain, as twisted as that was.

But there was that barb, the anger in Sirius positioning against the counter, and the insult about being selfish that stayed any kind of explanation from Regulus.

“Selfish?! Oh, well that’s only if you think I’m doing this to harm you, because that’s what everything is for you, all about you, Sirius,” as he spoke a scowl spread across his face. “Typical!”

Sirius gave a bark of his usual sharp laughter, glad that Regulus was arguing back. Sirius could argue. Sirius was good at arguing. And it was a lot easier to be angry than to deal with... whatever other emotion he was currently shutting away at the back of his head and doing his best to ignore. Sirius’ scowl mirrored his brothers almost perfectly. “Yes. Fucking selfish! You piss off to fucking kill yourself and don’t give a shit how I... how everyone is supposed to feel about it!”

Sirius pushed himself away from the counter, not trusting himself completely so close to Regulus. Sirius liked to think he’d never, ever physically hurt his brother - hadn’t he spent his whole childhood trying to prevent anyone doing exactly that? But he also knew his moods, knew them well enough to know how he could shock even himself. Sirius moved away, back into the main space of the room, where there was enough space and air for him to actually breathe. He spun on his heel, glaring over the dimly lit room - someone needed to open those curtains - to where Regulus remained.

“At least I know what a dick I’m being half the time! You can’t see far enough past your own fucked up bubble to even notice!”

“Oh really?!” Regulus shot back, bypassing the bit where Sirius had just admitted he cared whether or not Regulus killed himself. That wasn’t the point right now - though it actually was - but angry people are never, ever, wise, and Regulus was very angry. In his mind Regulus had managed to twist this around to be about how Sirius was a dick, his brother had broached the subject after all.

“And you think that excuses your behavior? You know so it’s okay to be the worlds biggest ass? Because that’s exactly what you’re being right now!”

“HaHA!” Sirius gave a scoff of laughter, turning away from Regulus and pushing his hair angrily from face, scraping it back over his forehead. “What are you? Fucking twelve?!” He spun back, at the other end of the room now, although his tone rose to make up for the increased distance. A small voice at the back of his head piped up that this noise would not do much to solve his tense relationship with Abbott, but it was a very quiet worry, and quickly drowned out by the rush of furious blood through his ears. His words rose to a shout.

“You know what? Better an ass than a pissing Death Eater. At least I haven’t fucking killed people, Regulus. Just because you didn’t have enough backbone to say ‘no!” He glared furiously across at his brother, barring the way to the bedrooms and the front door, trapping his brother into replying. Because every bad thought Sirius had ever had about his brother was dangerously close to spilling out, and damn it if he wasn’t going to make Regulus stand there and listen.

Regulus was about to comment on Sirius pacing up and down and how it was bordering on tantrum proportions only a child would throw when his brother shot at him with that. Regulus froze, the color, what little he had after the night he had, drained from his face and he had to consciously think to still his stomach. He had nothing left to throw up but he was sure even just dry heaving right now would be seen as weakness, never mind that perhaps a bit of something like that might do good to dispel the bad air.

But Regulus was not going to back down now, not after being jabbed at about not being able to stand up for himself.

“Oh, but you tried you fucking hypocrite,” his voice started low, he feared yelling would result in him doubled over clutching his stomach, but as he continued, and each volume increase didn’t result in what he feared he was finally shouting at the same level as his brother. “The only reason murderer isn’t tacked onto the end of your name is because your friend had an uncharacteristic moment of foresight and halted the crime you knowingly set in motion, hell, you were even willing to use your other friend as the murder weapon!”

Regulus had been actually been shocked to learn that about his brother from those books, always resting on the idea that somehow his brother was just made of better stuff than he was, in a way he was, Sirius hadn’t tried again after the Whomping Willow incident, but still, learning that had disappointed Regulus.

“At least I’m sorry for what I’ve done!”

Sirius froze. Everything froze. He could feel the sudden absence of thought, mixing with the furious rattle of his pulse and the waves of blood pounding through him. His throat seemed to have closed up, and the limited colour drained from him until he matched Regulus in their sickly colouring.

For a moment, he couldn’t do anything but gape at his brother, his mouth opening and closing in a mindless motion, words dying on his tongue. Then rage like he hadn’t felt since he had confronted Peter rushed over him, mixing with the familiar shame and guilt of that story until he could hardly stand it. Regulus was looking at him with a mixture of hatred and disappointment, and his mind was sent back to the day he’d run away, and to the day he’d done that to Remus.. And Sirius would do anything to stop that memory resurfacing.

Sirius was vaguely aware of his feet moving to the sofa, his hand snatching up his wand before he strode to meet his brother, his face twisted beyond recognition, his knuckles white around the sliver of wood.

“You...” he managed, his voice hoarse. “You have no fucking idea... Don’t you dare...” A spark shot out from the wand clenched in his fist, and Sirius swallowed hard enough for the muscles to clench in a wave down his throat. “Don’t you fucking dare!!” His voice lifted until he was shouting again, this time inches from his younger brothers face.

Regulus stared down his brother, not moving back one step as Sirius approached. He saw the wand in his brother’s hands, saw the way menacing manner in which his brother held onto that it. His eyes flit from the wand to his brother’s face a few times before his gaze, something he tried to keep purely one of anger and not horror, though he surely failed, remained fixed on Sirius’ face. His brother had never physically hurt him, that was some unspoken rule between them when they were younger, she hurt them, and they were allies against her, but Regulus knew in that moment Sirius could and would use that wand against him. What little trust for his brother he’d had built up these past few weeks crumbled.

“Do it,” he challenged, as, of course, the worst thing he could do in that moment, provoking his brother more, was the option he chose. “Who’s more like her now.”

Morgana was making her way toward Sirius' apartment because Mordred had requested it of her. Hurt and angry, he had spent most of the time - since the announcement of Azazel being gone - alone in his room, holding Philippa's bunny for comfort. He stayed silent and when he did talk it was through his mind; a method that he fell back one whenever he was frightened or upset. He only came out to eat, which Morgana suspected her did only for her. This had her more than relieved and as much as she was still antsy with him speaking in her mind (though she was slowly growing accustomed to it) she would deal with it because it gave him comfort. Morgana hated seeing upset and would do near anything to have him happy.

She wouldn't lie to herself or to him and say that she wasn't glad that the demon was long gone. Nevertheless, she was more than willing to accommodate him as he coped with the loss of someone he considered a friend. He had already lost so many people important to him. Morgana understand that all to well and knew that he would need the time. As well as the support.

When he had sent her after something that he had left in Sirius' apartment she had agreed to to get it in the morning. It was now early and because he was still asleep, Morgana decided that it was the best time to go fulfill her promise. She knew that Morgause would keep a close eye on him. She might not always like how her sister went behind her back when it came to Mordred or what she might be teaching him, but she did trust her to protect him.

She hadn't expected Sirius to be awake and had been expecting to nip in and back out before he even knew. He left his front door open.

However, she heard voices raised. She hesitated by the door. She cared for Sirius. A lot. She also found herself feeling for Regulus. And also frustrated by the stubbornness of the brothers. That didn't mean she was going to get involved. Morgana was a meddler when she cared for people, Arthur was right there. Nonetheless, Regulus had a point. Morgana didn't know how Sirius was in relation to Regulus outside of the books and what she could guess. It wasn't her business, and right now her biggest concern was Mordred. They could deal with their troubles on their own, she was only there to get what was requested of her.

She had considered leaving but then decided to go in after they calmed down. Morgana hadn't believed that Sirius would physically hurt Regulus. As much as they fought and insulted and pranked each other she hadn't believed that.

That was why she couldn't quite believe her ears as Regulus encouraged Sirius to 'do it'. A number of things flashed in Morgana's mind but in the end she refused to believe that he really would have done it. Morgana was all too familiar with hot-headed men with ugly tempers. Except unlike Uther who truly would have done harm, Morgana viewed Sirius more like Arthur. Perhaps darker in temperament but still with a nobleness that would keep them from crossing that last line. That didn't mean, however, there wasn't plenty of damage that could be done before that line.

The decision was both hers and taken away from her, as she stalked into the room. Her eyes flashed gold and she sent them stumbling back. One of the first spells her sister had taught her was how to defend herself. Holding her hand out, her eyes still gold, their wands flew into her hand. "Stop it." Her tone brooked no argument. "Both of you, this instant."

Sirius rage was almost completely extinguished with Regulus’ last comment. His angry expression fell, replaced by one of pure shock, his lips parting in a silent gasp. Because suddenly he saw himself, standing over his brother, wand in hand, his face ugly and twisted in some horrendous emotion, and saw how true that was. How much he did resemble her. He was still staring when something’s invisible hand ploughed into his chest and sent him stumbling back, his wand flying off towards the doorway.

Sirius swallowed hard, the shove doing what was needed for the anger to swell once again, covering his painful emotion at that last insult. He turned angrily, expecting Hannah or Remus or... someone. Not expecting Morgana to be the one standing in the doorway, her face stormy, two wands clutched in her grip. Sirius scowled heavily at her - perhaps the first time he’d really done so, before sending his glare back to Regulus.

“You’re a fucking joke,” he spat at his brother, one hand flying to sweep his hair back from his eyes again. He turned to Morgana, ignoring the voice in the back of his head which was randomly piping up with how annoyingly attractive she was when she looked about ready to knock him out. “What are you doing?“ One hand swept out once again, gesturing furiously to Regulus as that anger roared in his chest again. “He... He bloody well asked for it!”

Regulus, positioned as he was with Sirius between him and the door had seen Morgana enter, though it was more out of his peripheral vision as he was so intensely focused on his brother, and the change sweeping over Sirius. The effect his words had had, quite the opposite of what he’d expected, was just as shocking for him as it seemed to be for Sirius - had that really just happened? Had they really just pushed each other to that point where if one more step was taken things would have been irreparable?

Those few seconds while comprehension and awful realization dawned on the two brothers gave Morgana the advantage over them, though, Regulus wasn’t much of a threat to begin with. Bone weary and battling withdrawal symptoms to begin with, he was more in a state of shock than any kind of formidable opponent. He’d not even been holding his wand, which had been in his pocket, and even if he had he wouldn’t have been much use with his. The shove back didn’t phase Regulus much, not after everything, though he did stumble from it and he ended up crashing against, and catching himself on the table.

And those few seconds of honest reflection that had shown Regulus and Sirius just what they were about to do to each other were dashed in that insult, to which Regulus’ only response was to gap speechless at his brother. He was a joke? The rational part of his brain tried to accept this as just another hurtful thing said in the heat of the argument, but Regulus had reached maximum capacity of those somewhere around the point Sirius started calling him selfish, it was a no go.

He snorted derisively and silently shook his head, disengaging from the fight.

Morgana winced slightly. The expression on her face softened and she looked apologetic when Regulus hit against the table. Whatever else she had been about to say was stopped by what Sirius said next. Morgana's head turned sharply to look at Sirius, once again. She pushed back her own temper because the situation did not need it on top of everything else. Now wasn't the moment to yell at Sirius for what an utter bastard he was being.

She arched a cool brow, completely unimpressed by his temper. Not that it wasn't an impressive one. It was simply that Morgana had faced down worse without flinching. And Morgana doubted that Sirius - unlike others - would raise his hand to her. Not that she couldn't handle herself if he attempted it. "I'm keeping you from doing something that you'd regret." Morgana retorted, tilting her upwards sightly, her chin out just a bit. Or something more. With the way Regulus was visibly retreating and with what Morgana had just walked in on, the ‘more’ hung thickly and obviously enough in the air.

Sirius stared at Morgana for a long moment, his angry stare meeting her strong gaze in some kind of stalemate. There weren’t many people who would meet Sirius’ gaze like that when he’d worked himself into such a temper. This kind of temper which clouded all logical thought and made magic crackle through him. He was aware of Regulus, stood by the table, although after what had just happened he couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He wasn’t sure what it was. Whether the comment had shook him, maybe how close he’d come to actually hurting his little brother. Perhaps it was the fact that a member of his family had managed to hurt him again, after so long of swearing he wouldn’t let that happen.

“Morgana,” Sirius moved towards her, just a couple of steps before he froze. “I’ve already done something I fucking regret. I regret waiting up all night for him,” he waved back at the figure of his sibling by the table, still avoiding looking over. “Worried out of my fucking mind someone would find him dead in a shithole somewhere, because his idea of a pleasant evening out is pumping himself full of pissing heroin.”

Sirius whirled to his brother, his words becoming faster, angrier. There was still an angry splinter of hurt somewhere deep in his chest, but he allowed the fury to cover it, allowed it to roar up until it almost ached. His voice caught around it. “Why can’t you have fucking stayed away?!”

Regulus saw the way Morgana seemed to soften her features when she looked his way and was starting to think something was going to go in his favor. But then Sirius started talking and Regulus instantly knew where his brother was going with it.

“Sirius-” he called out warningly, but it seemed as if Sirius either didn’t hear him or chose to blatantly ignore him. “Sirius, fuck, don’t-”

But the words had been spoken and whatever advantage fate seem to have handed Regulus for that fraction of a second was obliterated by his stupid brother. “Fucking- I can’t believe-” Regulus mumbled to himself, trying to accept the damage was done, though not doing a great job of it.

But if he was stunned before it was nothing compared to how he felt when Sirius finally turned to face him. Could there be any more moments where Regulus just simply stared at his brother in disbelief? Regulus had thought everything jaw dropping would have been capped by the revelation he did drugs. He’d thought wrong.

But he bit back any retort, any jab back pointing out how each time he came back it was at the behest of his brother and for no other reason and how fucking unfair it was to put that on him. He just wanted this to be over, he wanted to check out of whatever this reality was, he wanted to run. But instead he did as he always did when dealing with a particularly gruesome confrontation, he froze where he stood half leaning against the table, and simply cast his eyes to the side and refused to make any kind of acknowledgement of Sirius’ words.

She didn't move back when he looked forward and she didn't turn her gaze toward Regulus. Even though she did want to check to see was doing alright. Morgana certainly allow her mind to consider - or her face to show - any sympathy for Sirius. She remained impassive and firm against his glare. When he said her name she didn't respond, knowing that he was doing to, allowing him to continue to speak.

Her gaze did momentarily dart toward the younger Black brother when Sirius waved toward him. A flickering of gray eyes falling onto the male. Before looking directly at Sirius. "Sirius." She began calmly, but whatever she had been about to say he cut off. She needed him to calm down. She likely shouldn't have come bursting in as she had but when Morgana was angry her passion could cloud her sense quite well. "Siriu .." Her step forward seemed to stop before she could even have the thought turn into action. Everything seemed to freeze.

Morgana had been here long enough to know what heroin was. They mentioned it enough on the films and the television shows. And while opium hadn't been in Albion there other plants that had similar effects. There might have been those who might not realize how horrible such plants were but Morgana had seen effects of them Her father had been firm and Gaius had agreed that her potions would never contain anything of the sort, no matter how badly her nightmares got. Morgana refused it. She couldn't imagine having her mind so clouded. This were bad enough as it was. She had always felt a sort of bitter sympathy (yes, sympathy, more than simple pity) for the characters on the shows, those on the news. Because she could not comprehend quite yet what sort of pain could be so bad that one had to willingly drug themselves. She who had nightmares rip at her night after night since she was a small child. There was a sharp sadness and sense of curiosity. And Morgana fought not to look upon Regulus with such eyes because she knew he wouldn't appreciate them. Because she knew that she didn't understand. That there had to be more than what Sirius was painting. But it was a matter of calming Sirius now.

Lips pursed she walked a bit closer to Sirius, "That's enough." She said softly, calling his attention back onto her. Possibly stupidly but if his profile was truly a glimpse to what he was giving Regulus ... the other man needed to leave. Every word Sirius said further damaged the tentative bond the brothers had. If he hadn't shattered it with the current confession. Her father had once told her, Gorlois had once told Morgana that a body could forgive the one they loved near anything. It was surprising and an amazing thing. Morgana hadn't been quite certain of what he had meant until Arthur had forgiven her and even more so with how she was forgiving Merlin. Nevertheless, as wise - and true - as those words were Morgana felt there had to be a stopping point. Sirius was definitely reaching it with Regulus. And ... Regulus was reaching it with Sirius. They needed to be separated. Morgana could see no other option and she was not equipped to play mediator.

She extended her hand out to Regulus. She handed him back his wand. Morgana had seen the look on his face and couldn't fathom the sort of betrayal that he must have been feeling. In that moment she had not been looking a Regulus, her eyes completely focused on Sirius.

When she felt the wand being taken she looked at him, "Go." She said softly. He looked like he wanted to keel over.

From across the room, as if from a greater distance Regulus heard Morgana give him permission to leave. It took everything he had to pull him from his spot to focus on that command he almost didn’t acknowledge it. That was his ability, to detach, to go somewhere mentally where what was being said or done stopped having any real time effect on him. He could almost watch everything going on without any kind of feeling even as he directed his eyes away from the scene.

But this was his chance out, though slow from pulling out of that place, and he wasn’t going to pass it up. A few blinks to let the realization settle and he was silently skirting around his brother to grasp the wand in Morgana’s hand.

He was running before he hit the stairs, practically tripping over his own feet and only saved a tumble head over heels by his hand on the rail. Driven to get out of there, to find something that would help him to forget before his mind had a chance to process everything that had happened.

Sirius was trapped in some kind of silent contest with Regulus, glaring across the space and inwardly willing, screaming for his brother to do something. Anything. If he’d been Regulus, he’d have hexed Sirius five ways into oblivion by now. But Reg had never been that person. Sirius was, as had so recently been pointed out, closer to his relatives than he might like in that respect. He would meet a confrontation head on, throw himself in kicking and screaming and causing Merlin knew how many casualties in the fray. Regulus... Regulus did what he was doing now. Stayed quiet, looked away. Broke silently.

If he’d just fought a little more, maybe things wouldn’t be so fucked up.

Morgana’s eyes caught him, switched him from one prison to another with no effort. The animagus drew himself up to his full height, met with this new opponent, tilted his chin in that proud fashion he’d often made fun of people for. Somewhere, the eleven year old version of Sirius wanted to push past her, find his brother and try and fix everything. That or just crawl under his duvet and cry. He wasn’t sure which. But he wouldn’t let himself. What was the fucking point?

Morgana passed the wand over, finally breaking the stalemate for a moment and leaving him, in a sense, on his own. In the second of relief Sirius let out a breath he hadn’t known he ‘d been holding and let his eyes close, chin sagging down to his chest for a moment as he struggled for some kind of control. At his sides, pale hands curled into fists. Emotion was still strangling him, crushing against his chest, making every breath a battle. His fingers twitched for his wand as the echo of the argument rang through his skull, and he barely heard a body leave the room until the door clicked shut.

Morgana was at a lost of what to do. She didn't turn to watch Regulus leave. Although she felt as much as heard the signs of him leaving. She stood there unaware of how to give Sirius comfort or whether she should smother him with something. Only after she strangled him of course.

They stood there for a moment with Sirius' fist clenched and Morgana frowning severely looking at a point between the corner of his eye and behind him. She gave it to him. The next act. She had swept in and taken as much control as she could - as she been allowed - as was necessary, of the situation. Morgana knew taking more wouldn't be forgiven. So she waited for him to take the next action, which wasn't so much putting herself in a position of weakness but allowing herself to regroup. Prepare for whatever onslaught of temper or broken emotion that he might want to fling at her for her unwanted interference.

Sirius let his eyes open, landing on Morgana stood before him. She was staring at him coolly, no emotion easily distinguishable from the next. With Regulus gone, with just the two of them in the room, some of the anger which had fuelled Sirius for Godric knew how long seemed to break, twisting into something else entirely as the enormity of what had happened reached him. He and his brother had been so close. If not to a truce then perhaps to the closest thing they would ever manage to it, and it had been destroyed almost beyond repair by a few chosen words. Sirius preferred when he had thought he had hated him. At least that hadn’t been so... delicate.

Sirius felt his cheeks flare pink, bringing back some of the colour into his face as he finally tore his gaze free, scowling down at his feet, slipping his hands into his pockets so she wouldn’t see how tense he still was. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, and he wished that the mad anger would flare up again, if only so he wouldn’t have to think. He shook as if he needed a cigarette, but he’d smoked them all waiting for Regulus’ return. Merlin. He was so angry.

“That was none of your business, Morgana,” he told her sharply, before turning away and striding back to the safety of the sofa, sinking down into the spot he’d occupied most of the night. Sirius sagged against the cushion, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes until red and gold stars exploded behind his lids. He spoke from the darkness, hating how his words caught in a way that was almost foreign to him. “You should have left it the fuck alone.”

Morgana hesitated before crouching down in front of him. She had stood for a long moment staring at him before deciding on what to say. "Sirius look at me."

Sirius sighed in a way that he hoped came across as irritated, before dropping his shaking hands and tilting his chin to meet her gaze in a silent challenge. His jaw was set in a hard line, and he felt a pressure in his chest which he couldn’t quite place. He was furious, silently fuming in a way that seemed to eat him up from the inside, and for a moment he wildly considered snatching his wand back. Or simply transforming, catching Regulus’ scent in the cold winter air and following it until he found him. It wasn’t too late. And the twat was probably... Sirius could find him in less than an hour.

But then what? Carry on the argument? Stop him from doing something stupid? Curse him until even he couldn’t recognize him? Sirius didn’t know what would happen. Couldn’t predict what he’d do. And something in Morgana’s gaze held him in place.

“I hate him.”

"I know." She said softly. More emotion than he had ever heard in her tone. That night or any other time. Because she comprehend the amount of rage and defeat that he was feeling. The confusion, the indignation that someone you loved could create such a heart-splitting situation. The insult that they would dare pull you into it. What Sirius felt toward Regulus for hurting himself was so very different from what Morgana felt toward Uther for what he did to others. Because there was likely the added guilt. Despite his best efforts it had shown on Sirius face. Possibly only obvious to Morgana because she had had it when Gwen had pushed her away. It had stayed with her until she had been forgiven. The feeling that you had let down someone who had expected so much better of you.

And again, there was just so much to what was going through him that she just. could. not. imagine. Nevertheless, Morgana also knew that he didn't. He didn't hate Regulus completely or half as much as he would like to believe. She didn't say this, however.

Morgana reached out and brushed his hair out of his face, giving him ample time to push her away.

Sirius’ gaze drifted away at her words, down to the floor and the overflowing ashtray but not actually seeing it. Merlin, everything was screwed up. How had it got this way so quickly? Sirius was an expert of brushing things off, of pulling the mask of arrogance and charm and jokes into place until he was just Sirius Black. Annoying, mischievous, womanizing prat. He could cope with that. There were only a few who had the privilege to see past it. Regulus had been one. James another. Rose and Hermione to an extent and now, through sheer bad timing and something that happened to be twisted and broken inside them both, Morgana.

Her touch made him flinch, startled at being pulled from his thoughts. Then he relaxed into it, let her push his hair back and feeling a little more of the anger leave him. Or at least retreat; hide back inside him until he was alone and could let it out. He was tired, suddenly, exhausted and aching and he reached up to find her hand, tangling his fingers through hers, connecting him to something solid.

“He’s going to fucking kill me,” he told her. And he assumed she’d understand. He didn’t mean it in the obvious way, but there was only so long Sirius could watch Regulus do this. He had spent too long protecting his brother for this not to hurt him. But he’d spent too long running from them to admit it. To show it in any other way but hatred, because it was what he wanted to feel. He remembered Regulus’ face when he’d squared up to him.

“I nearly hurt him. I could’ve…” He swallowed hard, glancing up to her face instead of staring at their locked hands. “Fuck. I’ve fucked this up, haven’t I?”

"You truly could have." Because care as she might. Understanding as she was. She wasn't going to spare his feelings. Morgana sighed. "Yes, Sirius, you did. Whether or not you did it irreparably is up for Regulus to decide. On his own time" Because Sirius going in and barging for answers would very likely lead them back to this moment, if not beyond it. There was the very strong chance that Regulus had gone out to do exactly what Sirius didn't want him to do since leaving the apartment. However, Morgana wasn't thinking on that. She wasn't going to make assumptions even when they were jumping in her face for her to make them. "Cornering him again won't help either of you." Morgana knew Sirius wouldn't react well to that but he had to understand what he had been doing - however, he had been doing it - was not working.

Regulus didn't need pressure. He needed understanding. Morgana was grasping at slipping edges on how to give it to There was only so much and so far she could compare him, either of them, to herself or familiar situations in order to decide what to do next. How to act and what steps to take; despite that, Morgana knew that much.

It was difficult for her to keep from demanding what the hell had been going through his head. She managed. Morgana swallowed it all back and instead stood up, her hand still clasped in his. "We need to get you cleaned up a bit and then you should get some rest."

Sirius nodded, accepting the words and appreciating the truth in there. No ‘you’re a better person than that’ from Morgana, because he was perfectly aware that he wasn’t. Not all the time. Not when a dark mood took him. Sirius’ wildly shifting attitudes were confusing even to him. Although he knew he still madly wanted to charge after his brother, get hold of him before he did something incredibly stupid – Sirius wasn’t sure what he would do to stop it, but he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to Regulus tonight. And that fact made his stomach boil over with the simple frustration that his brother still had that much of a hold over him. Why couldn’t he run away properly? Why couldn’t he sever all the connections like he wanted to five years ago?

Morgana got up, pulling Sirius’ hand with her so he was forced to look up into her face. Then he allowed himself to clamber to his feet, still holding onto her like she was about to slip away. “I’m fine. I’ll sleep round James’,” he told her, his voice suddenly thick. “Or Harry’s.”

It was a lie – he wouldn’t sleep. But being alone with his own thoughts wasn’t something he really wanted to be subjected to, and he needed one of the people closest to him to remind him that, somehow, things would work out in the end. Perhaps he’d transform and spend a bit of time as Padfoot beforehand. His emotions weren’t so complex when he was a dog, and it was a welcome retreat. Sirius sniffed, realizing he’d been staring at her with something close to desperation, his emotion rare and raw on his face as he forgot to keep it locked back. He started, breaking the eye contact, untangling his hand from hers.

“You… you probably came for Mordred’s things.” He turned sharply away, pushing his hair back as he strode over the room and squatted down at the small pile of bags and shoes by the door. He felt his shoulders sag as he sorted through, finally locating a small, red backpack that he knew contained a few of Morgana’s ward’s books and drawings. It had been left last time he babysat for the two children. Sirius took a moment longer, breathing deeply, trying to compose himself and pull the mask back in place before he stood up and carried it back to Morgana. His hands were still shaking.

Morgana's heart broke just a little at the way he looked at her hand. Or more accurately, it broke a little bit more.

She couldn't have said that he wouldn't have. Even if she deeply wanted to believe it because Morgana wasn't absolutely certain that Sirius wouldn't have. That was why she had said nothing.

Her face searched his when he stood and her breath caught at the naked emotion that she found there. She swallowed and resisted the urge to pull him into her, against her, for a hug. IT sort of dawned on her why she had stormed in and gotten involved. The realization hadn't quite clicked and now wasn't the time to mull it over. She would deal with her own thoughts later. Sirius was what mattered now. And she didn't quite believe him but that was okay. So long as he went somewhere else that wasn't his apartment and he wasn't alone.

Her heart seemed to still when he pulled away from her and she, in reaction and acceptance, nodded at his words. Her jaw clenching just slightly as her face closed in and she dropped her hand to the side, not allowing him to see how her fingers closed into her palm, into the warmth that had been left. "I did." She said after a moment. "Thank you."

She took the bag her eyes holding his for a moment, her hand careful not to touch his, and held the sack against her chest. "Promise me that you'll go to Harry or James?" No matter what he might think of himself at the moment, if he promised her, she would believe him.

Sirius handed the bag over, finding himself drawn once again into that intense stare. He couldn’t help but think, if just for a second, that perhaps if they’d been stood here under different circumstances... Well, who knew? Morgana had always been different from other girls. Something of a puzzle. And not one he had any hope of figuring out. At least not right now Regulus and the evenings events captured his full attention. Not for the first time, he really understood the need of his brother - the need to separate yourself so completely from what was happening that it couldn’t hurt you. That you wouldn’t feel it even if it did.

“I’ll go to them,” he told her. Not immediately, he knew. But eventually he’d find them. There was a heartbeats silence, then Sirius ducked quickly enough to press a brief kiss to her cheek, his hand finding her wrist and squeezing gently in a silent thank you. Then he pulled back, offered her a small smile, and stepped out of her way so she could move to the door.

It wasn't until he heard it close softly that he finally allowed himself to move back to the sofa, slump down into the seat, and press his face back into his hands.

He just wanted it all to be over.