Barty always leaves in a haste. It’s the screeching of the chair against the floorboards and a rushed “See ya!” thrown over his shoulder as he’s halfway out the door.
“He never hangs out with us anymore,” Dorcas usually worries. Pandora reminds her Barty is his own species, and everyone grieves in different ways.
Evan, for example, cries his eyes out every night. She hears him in the room adjacent to hers. He’s not really trying to hide it. She lays awake wondering if she should say something, but then morning comes and all is well again.
They are doing okay.
Barty throws the entrance door open. As usual, there is no one home to tell him off. He runs up the stairs, forgoing taking off his shoes. His father will give him shit later for staining the carpet but today he can’t bring himself to care. There’s a giddy sort of energy buzzing through his veins. He can taste iron in his mouth from the way he has been biting his tongue the whole day.
He swiftly grabs three candles from his drawer and expertly lights them up. He shuts the curtains and rushes to stand in front of his mirror. The flames are casting dancing shadows across his face and he spares a second to fix his hair before bracing himself.
His gaze clings to the mirror, so intent that the anticipation all but rises on his tongue.
“Regulus Black,” he says.
His own unblinking reflection stares back at him.
“Regulus Black,” he says again, more forcefully—almost as if he believed the creature could be moved by the sheer force of his desire. It’s dark outside, even though it’s barely five o’clock. Inside it’s almost pitch black save for the weak candle light.
“Regulus Black.”
The window snaps open and he jumps back, breaking eye contact with his own reflection. The gust of wind blows the candles so he’s nearly blind as he walks across the room to close it.
He’s only a few steps away when he feels a hand snap around his ankle.
“Shit!” he screams as the frigid limb pulls him down. He falls unceremoniously to the ground, already registering another hand grabbing at his knee. “Fuck!” He flinches at the sharp nails stabbing his skin.
The creature is nearly on top of him now, animalistic. It’s growling, drool coming down his chin, rabid look in his eyes, looking like it will strike him any second now.
And Barty is so happy his chest hurts.
“You missed me that much, huh?” Barty chuckles, lifting his hand to caress Regulus’ head. His hand is caught in the air in an iron grip and Barty holds his breath as the creature seems to debate whether to rip it off or let it go.
The creature growls once before finally easing its grip so Barty takes it as an invitation to proceed with his original plan. Slowly, he takes his hand to Regulus’ head and starts caressing it. He watches with rapt attention as the creature’s gaze loses its murderous edge and turns into something more—sentient.
“You’ve been trapped all day,” Barty sighs. “Probably been driving yourself nuts, isn’t that right?” he coos. The only response is the creature burying his face between his neck and shoulder. He feels his pulse quicken. It’s a gamble whether he’ll end up with his neck split by sharp teeth. He licks his lips in anticipation.
It’s exhilarating.
They stay like that for a few moments. Barty loses track of time. Not that he even tried to count when he already feels perfectly content like that; sprawled on the floor and holding the creature against him.
Some sounds from outside can be heard through the open window. Cars passing by. People having conversations. The bell of an old church signaling the start of a new hour.
“Why is your window open?” The voice is light when it finally speaks. “It’s freezing.”
Barty barks out a laugh. “I was going to close it, you know? Before you decided you preferred to cuddle on the floor.”
“Did I tackle you again?” Regulus lifts his head and there’s a little apologetic pinch around his eyes.
Barty huffs. “You wish your scrawny ass could take me down.”
“I literally gave you a concussion the other day.”
“Because I was not prepared! I can anticipate all your moves now. I’m glad you don’t remember how I flung you across the room that time.”
“You’re a shit liar,” Regulus tells him with a small smirk tucked in the corner of his mouth.
Now that Barty’s eyes have adjusted to the darkness he can make out some details in the other boy’s face. Like the soft curl of Regulus’ eyelashes and the way a small furrow appears in his brow as a gust of wind blows through the window.
Barty flicks Regulus’ forehead and the other boy tsks. “Are you five?” Regulus asks exasperated as he pushes himself off the floor.
Barty closes the window and joins him on the bed. They lay beside each other, arms barely touching. Cuddling seems to be reserved for him and the creature—as he calls pre-conscious Regulus.
“One to ten?” Barty asks and he feels Regulus nod beside him. “Okay. One, two, three, GO!”
“Nine,” they say at the same time and chuckle when they realize.
“Wow,” Regulus’ voice has a mocking tinge that drives Barty nuts. Barty cranes his neck to look at the teasing smirk Regulus is directing at him. “Is thinking of me all you do at school?”
“Mostly,” Barty shrugs, and his smile widens impossibly when the blunt response catches Regulus off guard. Honestly, Barty is done playing games. He has been over it for exactly five months now. Ever since he found out what it felt to never get another chance to say anything to Regulus ever again. “Classes are boring. Besides, I like thinking about you.”
Regulus groans. “You should really pay attention in class. You know finals are just around the corner and not even you can memorize a full year worth of content in one night.”
“Such little faith in me.” He sighs dramatically.
“Barty…” there’s an unfamiliar severity in his voice that makes Barty feel antsy. He suddenly feels the urge to stand up and run around. “You need to graduate, remember? You need to get out of here.”
“We promised” is what Regulus doesn’t say, but Barty hears it anyway.
“Barty?” seven year old Regulus asked cautiously when he found Barty frantically piling up large rocks in his yard, looking too desperate—too betrayed.
“They are gone!” Barty screamed as he threw a rock at his window. “They forgot me!” A bigger one. “They forgot I was outside!” Finally, he threw with so much force the window broke.
Afterwards, they broke into his house together. Hours passed and the sun set, and they played and laughed and everything was great again. And no one bothered to look for them.
“Reg,” Barty said in a hushed tone, “I want to leave.”
That almost brought Regulus to tears. But then—
“You are coming with me.”
It was not a question. It was not an order. It was an inevitable fact.
Immediately on board, Regulus yelled, “I want to go to Australia! They have huge birds there and all kinds of snakes! You love snakes, don’t you, Barty?”
Their imaginary destination changed each week, but throughout the years one thing remained the same: Barty and Regulus would leave this town behind. Together.
And then.
Things changed.
Because now Regulus can’t go anywhere else.
Barty groans loudly.
“This conversation is boring me out of my mind! Let’s talk about something else.”
Regulus sits up, staring at Barty with a strange urgency. “Not before you promise me you will pass the exams.”
“Do you know you look hot when you glare?”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. If looks could kill I’d already be there with you.”
“I’ll kill you right now and you can see how you like it.”
Barty sits up lazily. “Do it. I don’t care.”
“You don’t mean that,” Regulus says.
It scares him, Barty realizes.
His eyes have turned sad, and against everything in him begging to not cave, Barty feels his stomach churn at the sight.
“Please,” he should hate the way his voice sounds—pleading, pathetic—he doesn’t. It’s just Reg. “Let’s talk about something else.”
Regulus purses his mouth, and Barty already knows he is going to cave.
“Okay, Barty. Whatever you want.”
They talk a lot that night. Barty updates him as usual on the school gossip—he only started paying attention after Regulus passed away—and asks Regulus about death. Regulus tells him how he feels like he loses more and more control each day. He tells him about how it feels to be inside the mirror, and what it’s like haunting a house. Barty makes a couple of ghost jokes and Regulus hits him in the face with a pillow every time they’re bad.
They talk about the old times. About them building sand castles and Barty destroying everyone else’s so that theirs could be the best. About Barty breaking his foot and Regulus driving him around town on the back of his bike, and about how Barty enjoyed shouting lewd things at people only to watch Regulus’ reaction as they sped away.
They huddle under the covers and make up fake scenarios. “What would you do if…”. Sometimes they sound too real to what could’ve been. They pretend it doesn’t hurt.
Normally, Regulus disappears before sunrise. He starts looking less corporeal for a few minutes before he simply…fades away.
Barty usually holds on to his hand until he vanishes into thin air.
Today, however, even though the first rays of sunlight are already filtering through the curtains, Regulus is still solid next to him.
He blinks at Regulus when he notices, surprised.
Regulus chuckles and explains, “You did say you missed me a nine out of ten, so I’m reluctant to cut our time short today.”
“You’re not tired?” his voice sounds hopeful.
Regulus smiles warmly, an expression only ever directed at him.
“You know what?” He chuckles. “Not even a little bit.”
There’s a burning feeling swelling in Barty’s chest. It’s too big. Too familiar. It started taking root thirteen years ago and he has kept it well fed. It has grown out of control like a wild beast. Now it’s beyond hope.
What do couples say?
Till death do us part?
That’s hilarious.
No, it fucking won’t.
“Reg,” there’s a lump in his throat. I will never leave you. As long as you are here, I will always stay.
Five months ago Barty started telling the truth. But this time he fears it’s not what Regulus wants him to say.
“I am happy that you’re here,” he opts to tell him instead.
Regulus frowns, but he shuffles closer under the covers, until his cold feet are resting against his calves and his head is tucked under his chin. “Me too.”
Barty snorts. “Why do you sound guilty for?”
“I have been so selfish my entire life.” Regulus’ hand is caressing his back softly. Barty is sure the other boy can hear his heartbeat with how hard it’s beating against his chest. He wishes Regulus had a heartbeat too, just to confirm he feels affected in the same way. He hasn’t gotten to hold Regulus—the real Regulus—ever since he died. Regulus’ pained voice makes Barty hold him tighter. “I have hurt so many people to get what I want. I have ruined a lot of lives just because the alternative was less convenient. And I don’t feel proud—I really don’t. But then I was dying and I was waiting for all this regret to hit me—for all this pain, all the anguish that I caused to catch up with me—but the only thing I was thinking,” he laughs, voice thick and heavy, “I’m dying and the only thing on my mind is: ‘I’m going to leave Barty alone’. Just that thought. On a loop.” Regulus exhales shakily.
“And then nothing,” Regulus continues, a wet sob escaping his lips. “And then I appear here. With you.”
The words hang between them for a long time.
The town starts to wake up—dogs barking, neighbors greeting each other—and Barty doesn’t know what to say.
Barty has never been good with words. He is holding Regulus tight enough to bruise and he can’t bring himself to break the silence.
Thank you. That’s the only thing on his mind, but it doesn’t really make sense.
A distant memory comes to his mind. It’s him and Regulus hidden on the back of Sirius’ older friend’s car in a drive in movie theater. It’s Regulus trying to muffle his giggles at a scene too frisky for a couple of ten year old boys. It’s them running off when Sirius catches them. It’s childlike curiosity. It’s them pressing their closed mouths together afterwards on a chaste first kiss.
Barty caresses Regulus’ cheek and it is so easy to tilt his head down and melt into Regulus’ pliant lips.
He exhales shakily. He’s pretty sure his hands are trembling too. It’s not nerves. It’s a buzzing energy flowing through him.
It makes his heart beat harder than a drive at max speed.
It’s Regulus.
A switch is turned on. His hands are desperately clutching at him. He pries open the other boy’s mouth and takes everything he is willing to give.
Regulus. Regulus. Regulus.
Better than a prayer. It’s a summoning. It’s the thumping of his heartbeat spelling it out. I will never leave you.
It’s holding on for dear life to the straight line of his shoulders as the other boy starts to fade away. It’s pulling him impossibly close, hoping to merge, to have Regulus possess his body and do whatever he wants with it.
Barty doesn’t beg and Barty doesn’t give up control.
Unless it’s him. He trusts him with his hands wrapped around his neck.
Barty sucks on Regulus’ tongue and Regulus makes a sound that makes Barty want to punch someone’s teeth out. One of his hands goes to Regulus lower back and Barty could cry because he needs him closer and he can already feel his grip slipping because Regulus is almost see-through now.
Take me, Barty begs. Take me. “Take me.”
Regulus makes a choked up sound and grabs a fistful of his hair and crashes his lips into his so hard he tastes blood and—
disappears.
Barty shouts in frustration. Slamming his empty hands on the mattress.
His alarm sounds, signaling it’s time to go to school.
He gets ready, unmotivated but only getting up because Regulus will give him shit if he skips.
Class is boring, his friends walk on eggshells around him, and he spends the whole day counting down the minutes until he can go home.
To Regulus.
“Regulus Black,” he calls again that night.
“Regulus Black,” this time with an unfamiliar feeling—nervousness. He is usually so at ease with Regulus but to be fair he also has a massive fucking crush on him and they just made out for the first time.
He almost laughs.
His reaction stares back at him with an embarrassing smile.
“Regulus Black.”
He waits, holding his breath.
He hears cars drive by outside, going all sorts of places. He doesn’t wonder about their destination anymore. He is good where he is.
He waits for Regulus to appear, but it quickly becomes evident that this night is not like the others.
He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
“Don’t do this to me, Reg.”
The church bell starts ringing. Some hours have passed.
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