A piece of a fanfic I will probably never finish p2
Regulus fault was that he didn’t expect it.
He was prepared for his mothers hand. He always was. It was at the back of his mind at all times. Never leaving him alone. He was prepared for his mothers hand. The consequences of his actions weighing down on him before they even happened.
And when he stood there, with courage he had been gathering for years, he knew his mother wouldn’t be happy. But regulus also knew he could do it. He had done it before. Sort of, when it was more childish stupidity than bravery. A mouth he hadn’t learned to keep shut yet.
He had paid his entire childhood for it.
Now things were different. He was prepared for two options. The one where his mother let him stay, for petty reasons or the hope that he would “snap out of it” again. maybe even so that they wouldn’t look bad because they lost both their children, but that was petty too.
And the other one, the most likely one. Where she would kick regulus out of the house and disown him. Even for that he was prepared. In any way regulus didn’t expect to leave unbruised
But Regulus, like a fool, didn’t even consider the third option.
When you’re staring a hyena in the eyes. You don’t think about the snakes in the grass.
He expected sharp nails, sharp teeth and sharp heels. Not a python crawling on the ground, ready to cut off any and all air supply from its prey. Letting it suver slowly.
When his mother raised her hand. Cutting trough the air to hit his cheek. He dodged. Turned his head away, something he never dared to dream of before. His brother would have been so proud. In that small moments regulus thought about a better world. Where his mother wasn’t able to hurt him anymore. Where he would look back at this moment as the turning point. Its gonna get better now.
Then the blow hit. He stumbled back. His breath was taken from his grasp. Regulus wheezed and croaked. Backing away until he tripped over a pair of shoes and landed on the ground.
“Come on, take it like a man, girl.” His father mocked. A sneer on his face as he looked down at his child.
“Stand up and take me like a man.” He demanded.
He had stood up, and been nocked down again. But he hadn’t given up.
Regulus stood up again and again, until his legs gave out, and his breath was shaking, until his face was bruised and his ribs broken. Until his shoulder was dislocated and his nose fractures.
Until his fusion blurt and everything went black
