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Sirius O. Black (pad_foot) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2011-06-09 11:07:00

Entry tags:

regulus black, sirius black

WHO: Sirius and Regulus Black
WHEN: .Just after midnight last night.
WHAT: With four friends attacked in two days, Sirius isn't having a great time of it.
WHERE: Roof of building D
STATUS: Incomplete.
RATINGS: PG-13.

A figure sat curled precariously on the ledge, legs pulled closely into his chest, forehead resting on his knees and hands knotted through strands of long, dark hair. Sirius’ shoulders jumped occasionally, but the lip clamped firmly between his teeth stifled any noise. Sirius had stopped crying regularly some time before his fifth birthday, knowing even then how little good it did. How no’ one ever came and nothing ever stopped. He’d cried again, once, when he was sixteen in the Potters sitting room. But he’d cried silently that night, with his head on James’ Mother's shoulder and a burning pain across his scalp and forehead reminding him of his own Mother's final hex against him. And then he’d stopped. And there had been a war, a child and deaths and almost a year of living in this place, and he hadn’t shed a tear. Until now.

Sirius took a silent gasp of cold night air, letting it rattle awkwardly into his constricted chest, fingers tightening in his hair. In his mind’s eye, an image of crimson blood and torn flesh flashed before him. And then there were the others. And he was ashamed with how they made him feel. His own friends, and he could barely stand to be around them. But their muttering dragged him back there, to where the other prisoners would babble to themselves behind their iron bars. To the cold and the damp.

Lifting his face from his knees, Sirius took another deep, shuddering breath, felt the chill smart as it hit his lungs. Then he froze, suddenly aware of a presence behind him. In a single fluid motion, the wizard was down from his perch and spinning around, staring into the shadows and quickly dragging a hand across his blotchy face, scrubbing salty tracks away and sniffing hard. Then the elder Black was glaring at the intruder.

“Go away,” he croaked, and he sounded so bloody pathetic and weak he very nearly threw himself off the building in sheer embarrassment. Sirius winced, dragging an angry hand once again over his swollen eyes, fingers curling into a hard fist at his side. It was too dark to make out whoever it was properly, but he didn’t want company. He didn’t want anything. “Go away,” he repeated.

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arrogant_black
2011-06-09 12:38 pm UTC (link)

Juno had not been asleep for more than five minutes before all the emotions Regulus had been holding back for the sake of looking after his injured girlfriend broke the levies and flooded to the front of his consciousness. He should have apparated to Juno the moment she said she was just blocks away from Dean’s garage, this was his fault for just not doing something that would have been a no brainer for his brother – just go and do. Instead he’d hesitated and that horrible woman had found Juno, leaving her alive but no longer with them.

Behind the guilt and regret lay all the pain of losing all these friends. Eames would make it but Ariadne was gone. Molly was gone. Regulus knew Parker was wrong, handing over Dawn to Glory wouldn’t solve anything and just result in more death and destruction, but after a day like today, when things just wouldn’t ever be the same it was hard to think rationally. Last time everyone else’s friends had returned, but Regulus’ hadn’t, Severus never came back, Regulus couldn’t help but assume his connection with those who’d been attacked and killed would render this a permanent situation. What wouldn’t he do to reverse everything, or simply keep anything else from happening?

The room was terribly stuffy and the four walls, like every other thought in his head, were pressing in, accusing him and adding to his distress. He wanted to stay and watch over Juno, but he needed air, to breathe, and he was bolting out the door and up the stairs to the roof before he had a chance to root his ass to chair and remain still. And this coward’s way of dealing with things was just one more weight on his mind.

Summer was just around the seasonal bend, but it was a cold late spring night, the force of it hit his lungs like a kick to his already pained gut. After crashing through the door Regulus had sought the ledge farthest from, bracing himself against the barrier for he didn’t know how many minutes just breathing before dropping to the ground and pressing back as tightly as he could against the wall. The dark night was both welcoming and dangerous, the blackness concealed so much that Regulus felt he could hide forever in it, but it threatened to take him away, and he would be adrift in those cold, dark shadows for eternity. He had traded the battle of encroaching, crushing walls for a fight against breaking away in the endlessness of night.

Focused on his own self so much Regulus didn’t even realize his brother had joined him on the opposite side of the roof, much less what his brother was doing, until, when Regulus’ nerves had numbed to the point he thought he could return to Juno’s side and he stood and started walking towards the door and his brother quickly jumped to his own feet and called out.

Regulus paused, almost left without saying a word, but for some bizarre reason, perhaps the idea that someone was better than no one, he turned and walked towards his brother. Maybe he’d grown accustomed to his brother’s harsh moods that he didn’t even flinch when he saw the scowl materialize on his brother’s face the closer he got. Regulus kept enough respectful distance between them that he could almost pretend he didn’t notice the blotched skin and raw eyes his brother was sporting. And whether or not he saw it didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to say anything anyways.

His hands were almost calm enough to fish out a cigarette and his wand to light it. He left the pack on the wall between him and his brother in case Sirius wanted any.

“Remember when we lit off a handful of fireworks in one of the larger cooking pots from the kitchen, and we thought putting the lid on it would make less of a mess or noise, but we were wrong- really, really wrong and it even got the lid stuck in the ceiling?” It was the most random and least comforting thing to say. Or maybe it was comforting to think of a moment when the real life consequences were nothing compared to what they were dealing with now?

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pad_foot
2011-06-09 10:32 pm UTC (link)

Regulus was not going away. In fact, what Regulus appeared to be doing was carrying on hanging around. Which, as any sane person would tell you, was the exact opposite of going away. Sirius glowered darkly at him, torn somewhere between wanting to yell at his brother, smack him, give into the painful hole that had been torn in his chest and spontaneously combust from embarrassment. Maybe all four. It wasn't like there anything else he could fucking do right about now.

The animagus's gaze flickered down to the packet of fags between them, but it was otherwise ignored. Sirius was finding breathing enough hastle right now, what with the painful lump lodged in his airway, to consider smoking. Not to mention his whole throat felt as if it was raw from yelling and trying not to yell and the last ten minutes and Merlin knew what else. Instead he exhaled slowly and shakily, scraped the back of his hand once more under his nose and turned to swing himself back to sit on the ledge, legs dangling down into a dark and endless expanse of space beneath them.

He lifted his right hand, rubbing his fingertips agitatedly through his hair, scrubbing at his scalp. He couldn't stop thinking about Lily. And Juno. And Eames and Ariadne and Molly and Regulus and Harry and James, all of them crowding for space in his attention until he rather wanted to scream and lash out. He barely caught the end of his brother's sentence, spoken softly and carefully through the tense silence. Sirius blinked rapidly, sucked in another lungful of cold air through the narrowed tube of his throat and tried to remember. It was so long ago, now. Good memories forged in that house were like gold-dust. Gold-dust hidden in shit, he thought bitterly - and uou had to sift through if you wanted even the smallest speck.

But he found it eventually. Sirius didn't smile, and his voice caught a little as he replied. "I still think it would have been better if we'd done it in the first hallway. The portraits would have gone mental."

He stared blankly out over the city. She was out there, he thought. That bitch who had done all this... He could find her. He imagined a hell-whatever had a very specific scent. He could probably go before anyone realised he was gone. He'd tear her fucking throat out. Could she honestly be any worse than Bella? Did he even care? Sirius' fingers twitched at his side, a cold breeze rushing past under his dangling feet.

"Juno asleep?" he finally asked. He'd offered the spare room to Regulus when they'd found Juno, and he'd accepted. They hadn't discussed it any further, were studiously ignoring the fact that they were chosing to share space.

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