dear_mun | (no subject)

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No, you know what? No. This doesn't get to happen right now, and let me tell you why. I have a whole laundry list, we could be here for hours. But I'm guessing your attention span is like mine, so I'll give you the "I cheated off of Lily Evans' notes" version.

One: You don't get to ask me to come out when you're also playing that DICK. Fine, so back home I wouldn't know who in the hell he was. But having to share space with him? Not happening. It just isn't.

Two: Still, you're playing that bastard. And considering what said bastard has done to ~~Reggie~~ ~~my family~~ everyone I know? You do realize what you're asking is akin to betrayal, or torture, or...something equally horrible?

Three: Do you even have the time for me? Let me tell you, I've both been there, and done that. And I don't have to put up with you for sixteen years by proxy, mate. I'll tell you what I told Prongs years ago: get your shit sorted, and then we'll talk. Worked out well enough for him, why can't it for you?

It just isn't happening. Let it go.

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Of course I had friends.

[And it sounds extremely petty and childish to say that, and as soon as it's out of his mouth, he wishes he could take it back. He did, it's true, but arguing that? It was so... blatantly immature and, frankly, right up his brother's alley.

At the next words though, he practically sees red, a white hot anger coursing through him and you little bastard, he wants nothing more than to open his mouth and tell Sirius just what he did finally die for, but he doesn't. Some secrets were meant to be kept.

Regulus grits his teeth instead, nails digging into his palms.]

...shut up. You don't know anything. Go back and play hero with your friends, see how far it gets you in the real world.

And how many of those friends are people your almighty dark lord doesn't like the look of?

[The truth, Sirius already knows, is "not far". He's seen so much more death than he ever wanted to think possible, far too much for a one lifetime. It's not right, it isn't fair, none of this is, and Merlin, how he really would like to just curl up and pretend that the world extended no farther than his bedroom. But hiding from this, as far as he's concerned, is akin to agreeing with it. And while it might have looked to some like their whole group of friends followed Potter's word, and Potter's word alone, Sirius is just as much of an agitator. He always has been. Sure, he could have gotten a free pass based on his connections and family alone, but that was playing it safe.]

I know enough. Think for yourself for five sodding minutes! [~~All you had to do was come with me.~~]

[Regulus was never good at holding his own against his brother. Even when they were little, and their scuffles left them rolling around in the lush garden, they always ended with Regulus pinned, squealing for mercy, and Sirius boasting about it for the rest of the evening. When the fights extended to the schoolyard brawls- Sirius might have gotten a black eye once or twice, but in turn, Regulus was constantly nursing a split lip, a bruised cheek, a sore shoulder.

Sirius was, simply put, good at antagonizing anyone. But he especially knew how to push Regulus' buttons, growing up with him in those few years- and nobody, not Malfoy, not even the Potter brat, could get under his skin like his own brother could.]

Why do you think I'm dead, you idiot!?

[It comes out, angry and heated, before he can stop himself and- well.

Sirius has always been too good at antagonizing him.]

[Sirius is sort of stunned into silence for a moment. It's not often that Regulus snaps back--not harshly enough to make him really pay attention anyway--and for once it's enough to jar him out of his tunnel-vision rhetoric. Had Regulus forgotten about that whole "mass murdering" part, because that had seemed pretty obvious to him from the beginning. Working for Voldemort had a high mortality rate: sometimes seemingly as high as not working for him. It had been so easy to assume that Regulus had fucked up, eventually proved too soft, hell, looked at his "lord" the wrong way. Was it even difficult to anger him? It sure as hell never seemed like it, what with all of the things you could and couldn't be much less do in order to be on the "right" side of the war.]

Well, let's see. You swore fealty to a homicidal maniac. Gee, Reggie, what part of that is supposed to be unclear?

[~~Aside from all of it.~~]

Yes, fine.

[Cooling down a little. That had been close- it was hard to believe that he'd actually snapped like that, but Sirius wouldn't see it. Sirius was still so blind, even when all of the evidence was right in front of him. He'd rather believe in his own idea of the world, rather charge forward headfirst than doubt anything that he might think is reality. It was annoying and it pissed Regulus off to no end, but- it was useful, he supposed, when one was trying to keep things from the older boy.]

I deserved everything that I got because I chose to follow my family rather than to go after some half-cocked prick who wouldn't know loyalty if it spit in his face.

[It was almost easier, to fall into these roles. Regulus found, quite suddenly, that he didn't necessarily mind being the bad guy- Sirius hating a mask was far better than Sirius hating the truth.]

[DAMN IT, REGULUS, he didn't mean it like that! He's never meant it like that, but that's how it always sounds. Always. They never seem to be able to find a point of similarity, even if they happen to be talking about the same damn thing.

~~Brothers. Idiots.~~

Of course, Sirius doesn't see it any other way than he's right, and he's clearly being vilified for standing up for what he believes in, because Merlin forbid a teenage boy disagrees with his parents.]

Sure, Reg, because I asked to be related to this conniving bunch of assholes! Sure sounds like a great reason for blind obedience to me!

[Even if Regulus was the only one who seemed halfway decent, growing up. He cares, really. He's just terrible at showing it, and without an explanation as to why Regulus is (was?) ~~dead~~ the way he is (was?), he can't get over the idea that even his own brother has fallen into the family's bullshit rhetoric, and maybe that's his fault. Maybe it isn't. But is there even anything he can do anymore?]

[Regulus is just happy enough that they're off the topic of his death- even though their family has been argued over, Sirius' complaints have been voiced, Regulus' defenses have been yelled so many times in the past... well, it's almost a comfortable subject now. One he feels he can play along with, without getting as emotionally involved.

It's easier to pull back and let himself yell.]

Don't you get it? Blood is all we have in this world. You don't just pull away and leave it for nothing.

[But he did, and in the end, Regulus did too.

He isn't sure how to feel about that.]

Edited 2012-07-06 08:34 (UTC)

[Comfortable, easy, and yet it never ceases to ignite Sirius' anger. ~~Goddamned Lions.~~ He couldn't say why he cares about being right so much: of course he's got an ego to rival James Potter, but in this conversation, one they've had so many times, he should have learned a long time ago that it's futile. If the goal was simply to be "right," it would actually be easier to give up and put that into the denial corner with everything else.

He can't admit that he cares. Least of all to himself.]

NO! YOU don't get it, Regulus! If that's all you have left, I feel sorry for you.

[He hesitates for a moment, as if he hadn't quite heard him- Regulus flat-out stares at his brother, before what Sirius said finally managed to sink in and his eyes narrowed slightly.]

You-

[He can't even get the words out. Regulus' fist tightens, and before he knows what he's really doing (and that's always how these things start, isn't it?) he shifts his weight and throws a hard punch right at Sirius' jaw.

Feel sorry for that, asshole.]

[YOU. DID. NOT. JUST.

Of course, this is really no different than any other Black family reunion. In fact, fists thrown is on the tamer end of things, considering that Sirius had to get his penchant for jinxes as "harmless pranks" from somewhere.

But usually, the fight coming from Regulus' end seems so...ineffectual. (Of course, it would, when you're distracted and more worried about trying to impress your friends than getting into an actual fight. Or when you're so mired in denial that the plane tickets back from Egypt expired years ago.)

Sirius is left actually speechless. Luckily, he hasn't quite embarrassed himself by leaving his jaw on the floor too, but his awe-struck stare is incredulous.

HOW DARE--? He wants the words to come out--at least an indignant cry--but thankfully they don't. He'd only remark with a shudder on how much like his mother it sounded.

Instead, his wide-eyed stare hardens into a steely-eyed glare, and the only words he can manage to find are:]

Fuck you.

[Regulus expects a punch back. He really does. And when none comes, Regulus almost feels- proud. Almost disappointed. A strange mixture of both. He won the fight, insomuch that it was a fight.

He takes a small step back, as if still preparing himself for the retaliating blow that wasn't coming any time soon. At the words, Regulus simply manages to arch a condescending eyebrow- keep calm, keep cool, act superior- and the faintest of smirks tweaks at the corner of his mouth.]

Don't feel sorry for me.

[Darkly, almost ominous, before he turns on his heel to leave.]

[He's so used to the superiority act that it still annoys the everliving hell out of him, but it's normal. Expected. And incredibly stupid looking. But it's part of that whole Black upraising, and Sirius, begrudge it as he might, understands that.

What he can't stand for, is being ignored. Which includes being walked out on, especially by someone who should, by all rights, be dead, and still packs a meaner punch than a werewolf. Maybe he's a glutton for punishment. Maybe he just has a lot of unresolved issues that he doesn't want to face. Maybe...

In any case, he grabs Regulus by the back of his collar, and yanks him back, refusing to let him leave.]

Don't walk out on me, you superior twat!

[Regulus practically chokes when Sirius yanks on him, stumbling backward and almost losing his footing. He can't turn to look directly at him, not with his brother's hand clasped firmly on the back of his shirt, but he can make an indignant noise that sounded almost like a yelp and try to pull away.

He pulls a hand up to loosen the front of his collar, trying to smack Sirius' arm away with the other one.]

This conversation is over.

[He says- and tries to still sound intimidating and dark, even with his now somewhat-breathless voice.]

Let go of me.

Not until you admit that what you're doing is wrong! You're not a murderer, Reggie, you're not; stop acting like you're in love with this genocidal cunt, and act like my fucking brother!

[Well. That sort of just slipped out.]

[Regulus can't deal with that. He can't. He yanks himself out of Sirius' grasp, turning around, more livid than Sirius has probably ever seen him.]

Your brother?

[He can barely grit it out, the words are spoken with such venom. Anger bubbles up inside of him, anger stemmed from hurt and betrayal and watching his big brother take his suitcase and leave.]

Your brother? Who left? [And he's going to reach forward now, fisting his hands in Sirius' shirt and jerking him forward.] Which one of us left, you bastard? [He wants to punch him again. He almost does.] Don't you fucking dare.

[The exchange is enough to have Sirius abandon all pretense of pretending like this is all something it isn't. Like he doesn't care, like the detachment was as easy as he constantly tries to make it look. He's furious, and being impassioned makes it a lot harder to lie.]

YOU COULD HAVE COME WITH ME!

[He has to take a small step back at that, it's so loud. Regulus winces for a moment, his hands falling to his sides and balling into fists, before he just scowls.]

And you could have stayed.

[He practically spits it out.]

Not with that bloody yapping cow! Sitting around and pretending like we're above this? Like nothing's wrong because it doesn't touch us is just as bad, and--

Reg, I couldn't.

Fine.

[Another step back, creating more distance between them. Regulus' gaze flicker away from Sirius, down to the floor, just a split second of weakness, before he takes a deep breath.]

Then go.

[Go right now, leave and don't you dare come back, because he can't deal with this anymore. A small part of him says it hurts too much, but really, honestly, he's just angry.]

[GODDAMN IT, REGULUS, THAT ISN'T WHAT HE WANTED! Not that he meant to open up at all, mind. It does hurt too much, but it's happened, and it's out in the open now. He isn't sure what he expected. Maybe remorse was too much. And they're Blacks, forgiveness is out of the question before it's even an option. But a small part of him expected something, even if he isn't sure what. But it isn't this.

He reels back, just as angry now, and finally swings that punch in retaliation.]

JUST LISTEN, YOU PRAT, I'M TRYING TO--

[Trying to what, Sirius? Apologize? Rationalize? He stops short, not sure what he means. But he's trying! He's very trying!]

[It actually catches Regulus by surprise- he'd honestly, somehow entertained the notion that Sirius would tuck off like a dog, done with the conversation.

Instead, he gets Sirius' fist in his cheekbone, and he stumbles back and actually, embarrassingly, falls. It's more out of surprise than anything, but he can't really defend himself with that when his ass and hands hit the dirt.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, before gingerly touching the sore spot on his cheek. Ow, you fucker.]

I've been listening! I'm a terrible person and an awful brother and I'm stupid and I make the wrong decisions because you're perfect and can do no wrong. Sound about right?

[Aiming a kick at one of Sirius' legs while he's down there. Fucker.]

[Regulus, you realize kicking someone in the shins, or trying to, isn't exactly the most effective tactic when you're falling on your own ass? The laugh MOSTLY catches in his throat, but it's there all the same. Regulus looks like an idiot, and...okay it's more satisfying than he wants to admit.]

No. Perfection requires too much effort, and I enjoy my free time. In a myriad of sordid, naughty ways that mum would have a bloody heart-attack over, and--do you think I should send a letter? As a parent, shouldn't she want to know?

I'm sure she'd love hearing about some of the things you've been up to too, and--

[Sirius, this is something you say to someone you didn't just punch in the jaw. This is something you say to someone you're not constantly fighting with or trying to bait.

~~He misses it.~~]

[Even if it wasn't effective, Regulus still felt a little better. He scrambles to get up not long after that, trying to ignore the flush that was currently rising on his cheeks, and looking away with a half-scoff.]

As if she'd believe anything, coming from you.

[But it's enough to make him want to hit him again. Sirius, you're terrible. And while they're on the subject-]

You're disgusting.

[Sirius fucking grins. Merlin, it's been too damned long, and honestly Regulus feels more like his brother right in this instant than he has in years.

Maybe he should feel worse about that than he does. C'est la vie.]

No more than you are, Reggie-kins~.

What? I never-

[And that flush? Totally noticeable now. Regulus blusters for a moment, shaking his head, before taking a deep breath and... wow what does he really say to that?]

-I'm nothing like you. And don't- that's ridiculous, don't call me that!

Edited 2012-07-06 10:15 (UTC)