Brotherly Relationships Be Like. I Miss You. I Hate You. I Can't Stop Loving You. When Did You Stop Loving

Brotherly relationships be like. I miss you. I hate you. I can't stop loving you. When did you stop loving me?

Reckless, egged on by the warning glint in his brother’s eyes, Regulus continued. “You know, you talk a lot about how much you hate Mother, but you really are exactly like her.”

Sirius’s fist connected with his jaw faster than he could dodge, leaving him with a ringing in his ears and the taste of blood in his mouth.

Regulus ran a thumb over his lip as Sirius stood there, panting; it came away red. He smirked to hide the pain. “See? I say one thing you don’t like, and you go flying off the handle. Who do you think you learned that from? I can’t imagine it was Precious Prince Potter.” He felt like he was walking a tightrope, half an inch either way from plummeting, but he couldn’t stop. “You’re an asshole, you know that, Sirius? A proper asshole. Presumably so are your friends, since none of them have bothered to tell you. Actually - actually, I bet the only reason they keep you around is because you’re the one person shitty enough to make them feel good in comparison!”

Sirius's eyes were shining silver with tears, Regulus noticed with a jolt, but whether he’d even hurt his brother or just driven him into an impotent rage he couldn’t tell. He swallowed spit and blood, mouth suddenly dry. When had the room gotten so silent?

“Regulus, you should go,” Lily said, voice low. She was halfway out of her seat, one hand on James’s shoulder, but Regulus turned such a scornful gaze on her that she sat back down.

“I would love to leave, but if you haven’t noticed, I’m being kept prisoner,” he explained, enunciating each word as though educating a toddler. “Actually, wait - since you don’t have any legal grounds to keep me here, I’m not a prisoner - I’ve been kidnapped!”

“Regulus,” Sirius growled, “fuck off. Go to your room.”

Outnumbered. Regulus felt four glares boring into him, and offered Sirius a mocking smile. “Of course, Mother,” he said with a false curtsey, skipping backwards out of reach of Sirius’s next ferocious swipe. One last scathing look to the room at large, and he turned tail, making it three steps up the staircase before the tension in his chest snapped like a garrotte and he broke into a sprint. He slammed the door of ‘his’ room behind him, and threw himself onto the bed, half-wishing the frame would snap under the abuse. No such luck; it just took the hit, no complaints.

He could call Kreacher. He could summon Kreacher back here, Apparate away, tell the Dark Lord everything he’d learned during his imprisonment and damn the consequences. The more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed, and Regulus was on his feet and halfway to the wardrobe before he remembered that nothing in there belonged to him. The robes he’d arrived in were strewn across the bed, an extra blanket to stave off the winter chill; he screwed them into a ball and tucked it under his jumper. Lily’s jumper, but he wasn’t going to leave it and turn up at home half-naked. His wand was still unaccounted for; he’d have to get a new one as soon as possible.

“Krea-” he began, when he was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.