It was like whiplash. One moment he was sitting in the kitchen of the flat in London, the next he wasn't. Regulus was so disoriented and dizzy, his guard completely down, and he didn't even have time to come entirely to grips with the fact that he'd changed locations before he felt his arms grabbed roughly and he was lifted up so hard his shoulders made popping sounds and he felt like his arms were being ripped off, and before he knew it there was a whisper and jet of sparks hit him directly in the face, hard and forceful and his nose broke and blood burst onto his chest, dirtying the pyjamas he was wearing.
"That's for being a defiant ickle bastard," a low voice growled.
Another pugnus to the face and he felt his lip burst against his teeth and he spat blood onto the floor. One of his teeth had broken from that one and it lay on the floor before his feet.
"That's for fall I took from the library when your bleeding Mother disappeared the stairs." Regulus could smell Greyback, so pugnent was the scent of the repulsive man. "And this - this is for makin' my life a livin' hell the last three weeks while I've been tryin' at tracking you down."
A third pugnus hit Regulus, this one square to the jaw and temple and Regulus felt a zing that went through his whole skull from the hit, as though his brain was jolted by it, and he felt dizzy and lost his fotting, his legs giving out beneath him so he hung from the grip that held his arms so taut.
"Enough, Greyback," came a cold, regal voice.
Regulus felt the ringing of his head in his spine as a shiver that went through him at the sound of that voice. This is it, he thought, this is it. I'm going to die.
Voldemort hissed, "Rosier.. McNair... release him."
They did. Instantly. Without any prelude. Regulus's weak legs weren't prepared and he dropped to the floor like a stone, landing in the blood that had fallen from his mouth and nose and his elbows scraped a cold stone floor.
There was a ringing silence.
Then, "Leave me with the boy."
The disappointment in the room was palpable as the three men departed.
Regulus struggled up from the floor to his feet, his knees shaking.
"I see you were not expecting to be facing me, were you boy!" Voldemort hissed. He walked slowly around Regulus, studying him. "You let down your guard and your mind is free for me to explore and I see many things now, Regulus, many truths you hid from me... You've been a very, very bad boy."
Regulus laughed, "What am I, five? You're talking to me like I'm a child."
A jet of magic hit him in the back of the knees, sending him crushing to the concrete beneath his feet without warning yet again. He let out a cry of surprise as his knees hit the floor.
"Don't you dare speak to your Lord like that again, boy!" Voldemort growled.
"You - you are not my Lord any longer." Regulus's voice trembled as he got up to his feet, balling his fists in defiance.
Voldemort hissed.
"Just get on with it. Just kill me if you're going to do it, stop playing mind games with me you old fool." Regulus had no idea where the strength came from to speak such words. But there they were - out in the universe, hanging between him and Voldemort, so heavy Regulus half believed he could see them.
"Oh I do wish your dear Mother was here to listen to this!" Voldemort whispered. "Whatever would she think?"
Regulus stiffened. His mind raced. What did that mean? What did that mean for Walburga? Did Voldemort mean she wasn't here in this place or here alive? And what would she think? What would she think? What would she have to say about Regulus standing stock straight before the Dark Lord and defying him? Last Regulus had seen her, she would have applauded the act, he thought, but had something changed? Had Walburga defected back to the side of the Dark Lord?
Voldemort smiled, "You don't know where your darling Mother is, do you, boy?"
Regulus didn't dare to speak.
"She's in Azkaban."
"You're a liar," Regulus said.
"Am I?"
"About a great deal of things, yes."
"But about this?"
Regulus was silent.
Voldemort laughed in a low, breathy manner that was so creepy that Regulus could feel his blood run colder having heard it.
"You may get on your knees, Regulus, and you may beg me for mercy. I extend the chance only once, for you are a child, and you were dragged away by your poor, dear Mother who was weakened by her love for her boy. She made the wrong choice. She made the wrong choice and she will pay, in time she will pay greatly for her choice, but you -- You do not need to fall into the same folly as she has done. You are a valuable resource to me, Regulus, and I do not take lightly the time that you have already invested in my service. I would consider sparing your life, boy, if you will in turn fully devote yourself to me."
Regulus just stood there.
"I said KNEEL!" Voldemort screamed, and he flicked his wand and Regulus's knees went out again. He managed to hold back the cry of pain this time, simply hitting the floor with a wince of pain.
Voldemort stared at him expectantly.
Regulus drew a deep breath, collecting all his strength. He stood back up.
Voldemort waved his wand and again the boy fell.
"STAY DOWN OR I SHALL TAKE BACK MY OFFER!" Voldemort bellowed, his entire auror throbbed with magic, keyed up by his anger. Regulus could feel the Dark Mark's burning - so hot that when he looked down at his arm, the mark was truly, literally aglow as bright as it had done when the iron had branded it onto his body.
There is no way I'm getting out of this alive, he told himself. No way. But I shall see Maryrose again once it is over... and if I must die, I ought to do it in style.
He got up.
Voldemort looked shocked.
"Honor - is worth more - Love is worth more - than anything YOU COULD EVER OFFER ME!" And Regulus Black gathered up all the saliva he had in him and spit directly into the face of the Dark Lord.
There was a horrible, long moment in which Regulus was fully, completely aware of what he had just done - and he watched the spittle as it slid across Voldemort's face. The cold stare of the Dark Lord did not falter, and that was possibly the most terrifying part of the whole affair, as Voldemort reached up and slowly wiped off the spit with a handkerchief as calm as could be.
Regulus felt a lump rise up in his throat, but he forced back the panic and he kept his eyes perfectly level, staring directly back into Voldemort's face.
The Dark Lord took a deep breath, then drew his wand. "Draw your wand, boy."
"I don't have it."
"You don't have it?" Voldemort asked.
"If you recall, I was in the middle of eating breakfast with my brother when you hauled me here against my will. I'm not in the habit of clutching my wand when I am with people I love."
"There's that love again, always your weakness, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry you don't know what it is to let your guard down for a moment, sir. I'm sorry your friends aren't real and you can't trust them enough to drop your little stick there long enough to take in a meal."
Voldemort acted as though he hadn't even heard this. Instead he simply raised his wand level to Regulus, and said, "I told you once that you would die because of love and now you shall. AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Regulus saw the green sparks.
They were coming directly for him.
It was like slow motion...
And he closed his eyes.
"Regulus! Run!"
For the second time in a week he'd heard that voice. But it was so real this time, so bloody real and he opened his eyes and there was the brightest flash of teal...
"RUN YOU ONLY HAVE PRECIOUS SECONDS! Run!!!!" Maryrose screamed.
Regulus ran. He ran to the door and out into the corridor. He could hear Voldemort shouting, screaming, could hear him coming after him, and Regulus went pellmell down the stairs, tripping on his trainers. He could hear Greyback and Bellatrix, Lucious and Evan.
"KREACHER!" He screamed, "HELP!!!"
CRACK!
"Master is needing Kreacher?"
"GO!!!! GO TAKE ME ANYWHERE KREACHER WANTS TO GO!!!!"
CRACK!