Dead or Alive || { Self Para }
He couldn’t breathe. Regulus realized that as he was choking on his sobs that were silenced from his feathered pillows. His tears were hot, burning his eyes, and staining the pillows as his hands, once full of blood, held onto Kreacher.
“Kreacher.” Regulus couldn’t help the hoarseness of his own voice, how scratched it sounded as his hands ran over Kreacher’s head with gentle strokes. “I didn’t know.” He stared down at his sickened friend, hating himself in the process. This was his fault, not Kreacher’s. Kreacher was lucky. He managed to escape, whilst someone else might not had too. But there was suffering and Regulus knew, faintly, what suffering was like. It was being forced to become heir of a family that made decisions for you, without consent, and watching as your eldest brother was able to become happy and make a name for himself.
He was trembling and Kreacher was claiming that he wanted to be left alone. “You’re too kind, Master.” Were the other words that left Regulus sick to his stomach. He wasn’t kind that was the problem. He was fearful and needed to say yes, to clear his mind and allow the favor to be granted to the Dark Lord. Saying ‘no’ was not an option. He had to be the strong one, something that his brother didn’t grasp. He was doing this because he had to. He didn’t have a say. He barely even held onto his name and maybe once he had admired the Dark Lord for being powerful, but he didn’t understand that he wasn’t meant for a lifestyle of murder. He was too soft and the mark was on his left arm, when he didn’t want it, and he couldn’t cry. He had to smile and be proud. Grateful for this gift, this privilege, despite hating his own tainted skin.
He listened intently. He heard of the potion, the water, the inferno, the need of water. Each sentence cause Regulus’s heart to pound. He ordered Kreacher to tell him, Regulus needed to know what occurred, where it occurred, he wanted to see the place and know. This wasn’t what he signed up for. He didn’t sign up to have his houseelf, his friend, his Kreacher to die. He thought he was being helpful and not aiding in another death. He was angered at the world, at the Dark Lord, for a moment that Regulus didn’t quite grasp. Why did it have to be Kreacher? Was he not being careful enough? He had to harden himself up. Become ruthless, do something and get revenge.
He wasn’t sure how long he waited for with his tears. He remembered the scenario, the giving Kreacher away, everything he said, and never thinking that something horrible would come to him again. Kreacher was almost taken away from him just as Sirius would. Unable to get them back in his life and he would be stuck with Severus. Which wasn’t a bad thing, but Severus didn’t quite grasp him. He wasn’t aware of his past, how he grew up, about his brother and house elf. There’s a reason people assume families are perfect, but the Malfoy’s and Rosier’s had the title of perfect.
He was caring for Kreacher in his arms, allowing him to stay in his bed. The dishes that Kreacher was meant to do, Regulus forced Kreacher to not do. He needed rest, sleep, especially after the torture that was endured. Regulus was sickened by it all and forced Kreacher to stay in his room, in his bed. Regulus could sleep on the ground for once. Maybe once he would knock on Sirius’s door and share the bed, but those times no longer existed. The tmes were no longer simple.
He wasn’t sure when the tears stopped, but he allowed his sleeve to dart across his face and wipe away the remaining tears and snot. He couldn’t appear weak, even with the discomfort of his wrist where the mark sometimes burned. He was the youngest of them all when he got it. His stomach churned in disgust as he forced himself up to tend to the dishes.
He hated himself again in that very moment and wanted to go back to sleep. But knew, if he didn’t do the dishes, that the punishment for Kreacher would be so much worse and Regulus wasn’t sure if his house elf would be able to take it. A person and a house elf could only take so much and Regulus was trying to refrain from his only friend from becoming even more injured.
The tears had dried and Regulus took a deep breath as he scrubbed ruthlessly at the plates that his family had eaten off of. Regulus wasn’t sure how he was even able to eat in that moment, not aware that Kreacher was close to death. He didn’t know and that was what made the whole situation worse. He was being played without knowing. Allowing everyone to push him around until his own friend almost died.
Regulus’s jaw tightened. He wanted revenge, for a death to be given for the almost killing of his best friend. He wanted some form of justice and Regulus didn’t care if it would be given dead or alive.