Heavenly Waters||Sirius Black

Chapter 10

For a moment, it's only silence.

Older brother staring at younger brother, younger brother glaring at criminal. Sirius knows that Regulus thinks he's guilty, and as badly as he wants to defend himself, he's stuck on something else.

On the lines that cross over his little brother's eye, over the bridge of his nose. The one that cuts through his cheek bone, and another that interrupts the bend of his mouth. Scars. He'd seen these ones before.

For as pissed off as he still was at Remus, he couldn't deny the sorrow he feels for his old friend. Hurting Regulus was the last thing the werewolf ever wanted to do, Sirius knew that as a fact.

He stares at the thickness of the scar that dents his's brother's eyelid, fighting the impulse to ask what had happened. When it had happened.

"Stop it," Regulus snaps and Sirius jumps, startled. His hands are still in the air, desperate to show his little brother that he wouldn't ever hurt him. That he hadn't hurt anyone. But he can't speak. He's stunned by how he looks the same despite the scars, the only difference is his close cropped hair and the age in his eyes. Time.

A cruel friend.

"Reggie, If I could just—"

"Just what?" His brother sounds disgusted, enraged. "You don't deserve anything, Sirius. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

Sirius swallows past the lump in his throat. It hurt, more than he thought it would. The sting of his brother's hatred was strong, nearly crippling. He breathes in shakily, exhales slowly, "I didn't kill anyone. I'll take Veritaserum right now, Reggie. I'm far too weak for Occulumency, so go ahead. Look in my memories. Put me on trial."

Regulus blinks, seemingly taken aback by his offer. Sirius cranes his neck to wipe his tears on his shoulder, pleading in a whisper, "I never got a chance to tell my side of the story. Please. And if you still think I'm a murderer, you can blow my head off."

Sirius stares as his brother thinks, waits nervously as he decides to give him a chance, or get rid of him. His fingers flex in the air, and for a brief moment, he wishes he had a wand. But he couldn't hurt Reggie. Not really.

"Incarcerous,"

Sirius winces, dropping to the floor as thick cords wind around his arms and legs, his mouth covered so he can't speak. He hears footsteps leaving the kitchen, and panic sets in and weighs on his chest. Would his brother really kill him?

The ropes around his wrists burn with the heat of fear and Sirius begins to shake, clenching his eyes shut. It wasn't death that he feared anymore. He would end his own life before he went back to Azkaban. Trapped and chained like a dog. Never.

He would never go back.

He doesn't notice when the ropes disappear, doesn't hear Reggie calling his name. He finches when something nudges his side, eyes flying open to see his brother knelt down beside him. Sirius scrambles backwards, clutching at his chest and exhaling, voice panicked, "Sorry! Sorry! I-I don't know—"

"Breathe," His voice echo's in Sirius' ears, and a shaky laugh escapes the escaped prisoner. He sucks in a deep breath, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the whispers and echos and darkness. And while Sirius tries to regain his composure, fight the dark waves of misery that taunt his mind, Regulus can only stare at the shell of the brother he used to idolize. Sirius was the smartest, the fastest, the most powerful. This wasn't Sirius. Wandless, powerless. Weak.

Regulus looks away just as Sirius begins to breath better. He smiles shakily, and peers down at where his little brother is whiteknuckling a potion bottle. Sirius snatches it from his hand, feeling a flare of triumph when Regulus whips his head back around and stares at him in shock.