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Gwen won't let go.
Her hand is like a vice grip on Sirius', their fingers intertwined tightly like devils snare. Sirius won't either, he won't let go. Even when Regulus comes in and looks ill with relief as he checks her wound. He's brewing more potions, potions that should help her heal from the inside.
Gwen can see it on Lily's face as she helps Regulus. The line across her throat would never really heal. The scar would be forever. Panic rises at the thought, her limbs tingling and chest heaving for air. And then she hears Sirius snapping, telling them to leave.
She wants him closer, wants out of this bloody cot and up in her bed. She's not supposed to speak, but she does while Regulus and Sirius are arguing, breaking the tension by murmuring, "Can I move?"
Regulus freezes at the sound of her voice, looking even more emotional. But he also looks apprehensive, his eyes lingering on her throat. He opens his mouth to speak and is promptly interrupted,
"No," Sirius insists, eyes flashing with a tidal wave of emotions. "You're not moving."
Gwen ignores him, peers over her shoulder at Lily and whispers, "I'd like to clean up and sleep in my bed, Lils."
The Veela studies her friend, notes the way her hand briefly rests in her stomach. Sees when Lily looks to Regulus and begins to nod and reply quietly, "Yes, Gwen. I think—"
"No!" Sirius says loudly, voice shaking slightly despite his firmness, "No moving!"
"Could I see you for a moment, Sirius?" Lily finally says, her voice curt and eyes narrowed. Sirius' face grows worried, his eyes darting back to Gwen. He didn't want to leave her. He never wanted to leave her. Gwen smiles faintly, her chest aching at the thought of letting go of his hand. But she wanted to get out of the Potter's dining room, wanted to wash away the feelings she was having.
She hears yelling, but Regulus is doing his best to distract her as he studies the wound left by the curse, his voice warm as he says, "You had me scared for a minute."
"You're brilliant, Little," Gwen murmurs, eyes closing for a brief moment. "No need to be scared."
When she opens her eyes again she finds him standing stiffly, hand hovering just over hers. Affection was not in the nature of Black descendants. At least not towards anyone other than who they were most loyal to.
His throat bobs, his jaw clenched tight. And she sees it, the reflection of her own eyes in his, reflective with tears and emotions that Regulus Black did not want to put into words. Words made it real. Words made it real that Gwenyth Whitlock had almost died.
His heart clenches painfully when her lips barely quirk up, her voice tired as she whispers, "I thought you didn't like me."
He so easily can picture where he'd been sitting when she'd said words like that. So easily could feel his heart racing like it had when he'd tentatively sat next to the Veela of Hogwarts, watched her friend wade in the shallow waters of the lake. Too easy. It was too easy for him to imagine what his life would look like without her in it.
Regulus clears his throat, shrugs half heartedly and mutters, "I don't like it when you almost die. If you could refrain from doing that ever again, I'd be eternally grateful."
"I'll consider it," Gwen teases, and Regulus' lips twitch into an easy smile. He hesitates before finally grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. Her touch allows him to reconcile with his turmoil. More than he was afraid of her dying, he was afraid of seeing Sirius cope with it. He wouldn't easily forget his brother's outburst, his screams of pain. It was too much for him to carry, too much for him to think about.
He's stirred from his thoughts when Lily and Sirius renter the room with shared looks of irritation. Gwen blinks up at Regulus and asks plainly, "Don't tell me the yelling is over. It was just getting good."
He stifles a laugh and gives a subtle shake of his head to the Veela, knowing by the look on Lily's face that the redhead had won the argument. He clears his throat and says calmly, "Okay, Ninnie. We'll sit you up in just—Sirius!"
His older brother is blatantly ignoring everyone in the room, striding forward and gingerly lifting the Veela into his arms despite Regulus' squawk of horror. Gwen just smiles, looking rather proud of herself for getting what she wanted. Out of this room. She wanted to get out.
Regulus looks to Lily for help, insisting, "Sirius, you can't just—"
This time it's Lily that cuts him off, looking apologetic as she says, "It's the only way he'd agree. He doesn't seem too fond of anyone else touching her let alone helping her bathe."
"Please!" Regulus scoffs, "Haven't I made it clear that Gwen is missing a few parts that I am interested in!"
Sirius just glares, silent and broody as he turns the weak Veela to gently rest her head on his shoulder. Gwen winces at the motion and everyone freezes until she mumbles, "I'm okay."
Sirius sends one final look to both Lily and Regulus before carefully but hurriedly taking the girl out of the room. The trek up the stairs is slow, but the house is quiet. Gwen nearly asks where everyone is, if everyone is okay. But her throat hurts when she speaks, her words feeling scratchy when they reach her lips. She bites her tongue, eyes closing as exhaustion beckons at her mind. Rest sounds so nice, so peaceful. So enticing that if Sirius wasn't alive and she didn't need him, she might have succumbed to the offer of eternal sleep.
He refuses to set her down, even as they reach the bathroom. His arms are tight, strong around her when he shuts the door behind them. Gwen slowly lifts her head to tell him she can stand, but he's already reaching for his wand. His voice is a broken whisper as he says spells, and Gwen watches him instead of the tub filling with water.
Soon the room is growing hazier, and Gwen knows he's warming the water until it's just right, just scalding enough for her to feel clean. She could handle the heat, could handle fire. Perhaps because of her dna. But she couldn't handle his silence, his brooding. His sadness.
Sirius reluctantly sets her on the sink, his eyes locked onto her throat. Gwen sits silently, lets him look. Let's him cry and slump forward to rest his head against hers. She smiles weakly and strokes his hair back before straining to lift her arms. Sirius pulls back at the motion, quick to remove her clothes so that her arms may rest again by her side.
She finds herself studying the red on her fingers, brows furrowing slightly. Red. Her lips twist into a pained expression and then his hand is covering hers, his other one making quick work of her button fly on her trousers.
"Let me stand," Gwen finally says, her eyes burning with emotions she refuses to feel. Not right now. She would feel them later, when she was alone and didn't have to see Sirius looking at her like she may disappear.
He shakes his head, lips pressed into a firm line. Gwen pushes weakly at his chest, but he only moves closer, only lifts her up with one arm so he can awkwardly shove at her pants until they're around her knees.
"Sirius," Gwen whispers, and it sounds like a plea. She's not sure what for. He shakes his head again, pulls her pants off and tosses them aside. He so carefully scoops her into his arms, so timidly pulls down her knickers before hunching over and setting her in the bath.
The water stings at first, hot and not hot enough. Gwen wants to burn away her skin, the scar on her throat, the feeling of Antonin Dolohov's hand pressing against her windpipe. She wants to burn it away and sink down the drain with the water.
Sirius kneels by the tub, grabs her hand and begins to scrub it until the red disappears and leaves the water tinged a shade of pink. He grabs her other hand, does the same with just as much silence surrounding them.
Gwen stares silently at the water rippling from Sirius' furious cleansing of her palms, her heart suddenly racing. She finds that it's harder for her to breathe, and she sucks in a breath. She draws her knees up to her chest, tiredly rests her forehead against them until the buzzing in her ears dies down and the pain in her throat quells to a dull ache.
It's the only sound in the bathroom, water sloshing and her quiet breathing. Until it's not. Gwen lifts her head when she hears the clang of Sirius' belt buckle hitting the floor, her eyes raking over his mud covered jeans and shoes as they join her pile of clothes. And then he's stepping into the water, carefully moving her forward and cursing at the temperature of the bath.
Gwen smiles faintly, her breaths easier now.
Breathing was easier with him.
{{cuties. I love them. And boy do I love regulus.}}