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Someone Else’s Life

Summary:

Reimaging of Chapter 50 of Crimson Rivers by Zeppazariel with a happy ending

*Contains spoilers for Chapter 50 and potential spoilers for any prior chapters*

MUST read Crimson Rivers at least to that point prior to reading this

Notes:

Chapter 50 was just like- holy shit
And now I don’t know what to do with myself.

Like seriously;

"You're a fucking death eater?!"

"No, but I did trust you, Sirius! I fucking trusted you, and what did you do? You ruined it. You ruined everything."

“Grow up, Regulus."
"You won't let me!"

"You're mad, and you want to lash out, but you don't really want to hurt me. You couldn't kill me if you tried, not even if I gave you the chance. So, sure, you're a death eater. You're a death eater because you wanted to get back at me, since you're a mean, miserable little shit. You're also a death eater to make sure none of the others lay a hand on me. Let me guess, you told them only you could kill me?“

"You underestimate how much he loves me."

“You underestimate just how much I love him."

And it's here, with Regulus underneath him, being beaten to death by Sirius' hands, that Sirius realizes he hates him, too.

Regulus is gagging on his own blood.

"It's okay," Regulus gasps, one bloodstained hand coming up to shakily cover Sirius' around the dagger. His fingers are slick as they wrap around Sirius' hand, and he swallows, he swallows his own blood just to look right at Sirius and choke out, "I love you, too. Wanted to say it for a while. Sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't. Sorry I'm saying it now, but I do. It's okay, right? It's okay. I love you, too."
Sirius feels a horrible, cold sensation slowly crawl through his body, and he can't—he can't move, can't look away from Regulus' face. His hands ache, knuckles busted, and his little brother lays bloody and beaten beneath him, under the threat of dagger's death, and Sirius is the one who put him there.
And he knows why.

Regulus never intended to go home.

"Don't, please don't do this to me. Sirius, please just—please do it, or let me do it. Don't make me live without you, please don't, Sirius—"

Regulus leans against him and sobs like he just lost everything, and maybe, in a way, he did.

 

 

This is a fix-it of 50 because I’m struggling with the fact that Zar is taking a week off from updating. (Which is a totally valid thing to do!!!!)

Zar is a literary genius and Crimson Rivers (along with his other Jegulus fics) is a work of absolute art.

The beginning- up until “He wants to drive the dagger down into Regulus' chest and twist.”- is verbatim Zar’s writing from 50, so if this chapter is fresh in your mind, you can skip past that to read the actual fix-it part.

This fic is essentially the end of the book, if Zar had chosen to end it at 50 chapters, so I do not intend to make a second chapter. However, this is now officially a series, so there may be more works as future chapters are posted.

All credit for this fic goes to Zar and his utter brilliance. And if you’re Zar reading this, which I doubt you have the time for with all of the writing you’re *hopefully* doing, I love you. Please never stop writing.

Trigger warnings (I suck at warnings, so please do not hesitate to let me know if I have missed anything)
- some language
- implied mentions of grief related suicide
- major character death
- mentions of death
- mentions of sacrificial suicide
- mentions of sedation/needle/IV
- brutal fighting
- mentions of blood

Disclaimers:
All characters belong to J.K. Rowling (whom we do not like)
Hunger Games concept belongs to Suzanne Collins

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

"Only one of us can make it home," Regulus tells him. 

Sirius softens, helplessly. "I know, and that's you. It's you, and I know you know that. I know you know I'll make sure you get home, and it hurts, it scares you, but giving into anger isn't going to help. It's only going to make it worse when I'm gone."

"I'm not going to be hurt at all," Regulus states, and he sounds like he means it. He looks like he means it. "I'm going to be entirely at peace when this is all over." 

"Stop it," Sirius whispers. "Just stop. Don't you get it? You can't prove something I already know isn't real."

Regulus doesn't move, doesn't break his gaze, doesn't do anything for a long moment—and then, calmly, he says, "Are you willing to bet your life on that?" 

"Yes," Sirius says firmly, then holds his arms out and leaves himself an open target. All Regulus has to do is throw his dagger, and that'll be it. He doesn't. 

"Are you willing to bet someone else's life on that?" Regulus asks quietly, holding his gaze. "Your moon's, perhaps." 

Sirius freezes. All of his muscles lock up as his heart starts beating hard and fast in his chest. "Regulus—" 

"I know your moon, don't I, Sirius?" Regulus says, staring him down. "Oh, that would hurt, wouldn't it? That'd make you give up altogether, if I just so happened to say their name."

"Shut the fuck up," Sirius bursts out, frantic and ferocious in a heartbeat, feeling wild and untamed and pushed to the brink just that quickly, just that easily, because it's Remus. It's Remus, and Sirius can't be rational about Remus. 

"Their life would be ruined the moment they were connected back to you," Regulus murmurs. "Because that's what you do. You ruin things. Why don't I share with the world just how easily you ruined the moon? A name. That's all it'll take." 

"Don't you fucking dare," Sirius hisses, stepping forward and hearing his blood rush in his ears, instincts going haywire, everything thrown off balance by the threat. If Regulus says Remus' name, that's it. Remus is dead. He—he wouldn't do that, right? Remus is his friend. So, why does he look like that? Why is Sirius so scared? "Shut up. Stop. You wouldn't." 

"No?" Regulus says softly, never breaking his gaze, never backing down. His mouth opens, slowly, lips shaping around the very first syllable, "R—" 

Sirius doesn't let him finish. Doesn't even give him the chance. In seconds, he has Regulus flat on his back on the ground, hitting him once, twice, a third time. 

"Shut the fuck up!" Sirius roars, shaking all over as he leans over Regulus and hovers his fist in threat. 

Regulus coughs, then slurs, "R—" 

Sirius hits him again. 

Again. 

Again. 

And again. 

Things go in and out, his mind in an uproar, and he's here, then gone, here, then not, and back again. Sirius feels like the world is spinning around him, swirling in a hazy wash of dull watercolors, the air stale and the stench of death and blood clinging to the inside of his nose. 

Everything seems to fall apart, and it hurts, because this—it's proof. It's convincing. Sirius, for the first time, doesn't believe in his brother. Because Regulus wants to say Remus' name, and that would hurt Sirius more than dying by Regulus' hand. This isn't anger. This goes beyond Regulus just being angry at him. Regulus meant it. Oh, oh fuck, he meant it when he said Sirius was dead to him, and he's—he's actually trying to do it. 

He actually wants to kill Sirius and get home, whatever it takes. His own brother. Sirius, who was going to die for him. Sirius, who still wants to. Sirius, who still would, if it wasn't for the fact that the man he loves is under threat. 

And it's here, with Regulus underneath him, being beaten to death by Sirius' hands, that Sirius realizes he hates him, too. 

After everything that Sirius did for him. 

After everything that Sirius suffered for him. 

After everything that Sirius tried so fucking hard to fix. 

After all of that, it was Regulus who threw it away, angry and betrayed and hurt. His little brother. Always his little brother. 

And Sirius hates him for it. 

"I gave everything for you!" Sirius shouts, then hits Regulus again. "And this is what you give to me?!" 

Regulus is gagging on his own blood. 

"You ungrateful, spiteful, hateful piece of shit!" Sirius chokes out, his vision blurring with tears until the way Regulus lays there, face covered in blood, doesn't even seem real. Just a simple illusion. A dream. A memory he wants to hold onto and shove away in equal measure. 

A rattling breath escapes Regulus, and he lifts his hand weakly, fingers slack around his dagger. "R—" 

Sirius hits him again, heaving out a harsh breath that escapes him like a sob, hot tears dripping down the length of his nose as he confesses, "I hate you. I fucking hate you. Why would you do this? How could you do this to me, after I—after all of it? All I've ever done is love you! Everything I did, I did for you! It's your fault, and I hate that you were ever fucking born!" 

Regulus pushes the dagger forward, still trying, still fucking trying, even now. It wobbles, swaying weakly through the air, too slow, laughably slow to the point that Sirius easily snatches it from his grip as he wheezes, "R—"

"Shut up!" Sirius bellows. 

"You'll—" Regulus coughs again, eyes rolling around before settling on him once more. "You'll have to kill me." 

"I will! Don't fucking push me, because I will," Sirius snarls, vibrating in place, suspended in this moment of horrible, sickening rage, and hurt, and betrayal, and fear. 

Regulus just looks at him and whispers, "R—" 

Sirius hits him with one hand to shut him up, and Regulus twists beneath him, wheezing, only for him to jerk to a halt the moment he sees Sirius raise the dagger up. 

Sirius doesn't bring it down, but he wants to. He wants to so badly that he's shaking. He wants to drive the dagger down into Regulus' chest and twist. All he has to do is try to speak Remus' name again, and Sirius will. 

Something flickers in Regulus’s eyes, but it’s gone in a flash, and Sirius is so caught up in his rage that he doesn’t notice it. “R-”

Sirius plunges the dagger into Regulus’s chest. He stares down at his little brother as the blood begins to pool, staining his shirt crimson.

Regulus opens his mouth and Sirius yanks out the dagger, prepared to stab him again, only for Regulus’s expression to crumble. The mask fading away, leaving only a boy in its wake. Regulus could have been six years old again as he stared up at Sirius, almost bewildered, a little bit sad, and maybe, just maybe, heartbroken. 

"It's okay," Regulus gasps out, a struggle. "I love you, too. Wanted to say it for a while. Sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't. Sorry I'm saying it now, but I do. It's okay, right? It's okay. I love you, too." Then Regulus is coughing, blood spilling past his lips. His eyes become a little unfocused as Sirius drops the dagger to the earth, realization dawning on him.

Regulus had- he’d tricked him. All of this, it had been so Regulus would die and Sirius would live. Because he knew Sirius would never stop fighting to protect him and he knew that Sirius was better than everyone else. He knew that Sirius would succeed. So it had to be Sirius to be the one to do it, Sirius needed to be the one to kill him.

A sob wretched its way up Sirius’s throat and past his lips. “No, no, no.” He chorused, reaching down to cup Regulus’s face, despite the blood there as it continued to bubble out of his mouth. “No, Reg, please. I’m sorry. No, I’m sorry. I didn’t- please…”

Regulus gives him a weak smile and then his eyes drift from Sirius’s face, staring up into the sky without seeing. 

The cannon fires. 

Sirius’s tears mingle with Regulus’s blood. “Reggie. No, no. Don’t go, please don’t go. It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re-”

Sirius isn’t there. And once he is there again, there’s a lot more blood on his hands, his arms, his clothes. He’s covered in it. And Regulus is still dead.

He killed his little brother and he can’t take it back. 

Pain rips through his back and he looks down just in time to see the tip of an arrow emerging through his stomach. He scrambles to the side desperately, and turns to see Narcissa standing there with the other death eaters flanking her. Her bow still raised. Everything is hazy. They are all going in and out of focus. Nothing is clear. Nothing makes sense. All he knows is Regulus is dead and he wishes he was too.

Something prickles in his knee and he knows he must have been shot again. After that, he knows nothing at all. He is nothing at all. He simply ceases to be.

 

~•~

 

James doesn’t think he’s a person. He can’t be. Because if he is a human, himself, then this is real. This has really happened. Sirius has just killed Regulus. Narcissa has just killed Sirius. He watches numbly as the death eaters depart and the claw lowers to collect Sirius and Regulus’s bodies. His best friend and his fiancé. Gone. In the matter of minutes. 

He isn’t real. He isn’t breathing. He’s going to explode. He’s going to kill someone. The first thing he notices outside of the screen is Frank’s pitying look. The second is Lucius’s smirk. Fucking Lucius. He immediately begins to stalk over to the man, only for Frank to grab his shoulder and pull him back.

That won’t do. James needs- he needs- he… what he needs is for this not to be real. 

He slumps and Dorcas is there, like she has just materialized from thin air. “Come on, James.” She wraps an arm around his waist and gently begins to guide him from the room. “It’s okay, you’re okay, you’ll be okay.”

It’s not. He isn’t. He never will be. 

He digs his heels in when they’re in the doorway. Refusing to go any further. “James,” She murmurs.

“I can’t.” He says helplessly. “I can’t leave them.”

“I know, I know. Sweetheart, you aren’t. But we have to go. They aren’t here. This isn’t where they are. We have to go. There will be riots starting, we need to leave before they begin.” Dorcas pushes, tugging on his waist again.

Reluctantly, he follows. “Mentors return to their districts as soon as their services are no longer required here. You’re going home.”

“They were my home.”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Just breathe, James.”

Somehow, they make it back to their rooms. Remus is standing there, in the center of the room. Like he’s been waiting for them. His eyes are red rimmed, but he isn’t crying now. The moment he sees James, he is surging forward into James’s arms. James is too out of it to really comprehend what’s happening, so he doesn’t return the hug. It doesn’t seem to matter to Remus.

Dorcas is all business, a whirl of motion as she flits through the rooms, collecting and packing their things. Anything they might wish to take back with them. There isn’t much. 

Suddenly they are on the roof. James isn’t sure when they got there. But there’s an aircraft with the Hollow seal waiting for them there. Dorcas gets him aboard, tucking him into a seat before she’s gone again. 

That’s when James starts screaming, screaming like he’s in pain. Like he’s dying. Because he feels like he is. Someone from the Hollow comes over to him, injecting him with something. He fights to stay awake, but it’s no use. He’s asleep before he can even register his eyes closing. The last thing he remembers is a face with green eyes, dotted with freckles, framed by red hair. 

 

~•~

 

When James wakes up, he isn’t in district six. He isn’t anywhere he recognizes. It makes him panic. Until he sees Remus sitting in a chair next to his bed. No, that isn’t right. He blinks blearily at Remus and opens his mouth to ask him what the hell is going on, when the same woman from before sweeps into the room. Her hair is tied back into a rumpled ponytail. She looks tired, but there is a certain fire in her eyes.

Remus gives her a warm look when his eyes land on her and that doesn’t make sense either.

She turns to James and there’s something glimmering in her eyes. “Hello, James Potter. I’m Lily, Lily Evans.”

James furrows his brow. Perhaps he hit his head. He turns to Remus, who only nods. “What- ?”

“I’m sure, you’re very confused.” She says, a tad more gently than her introduction. “You’re in district thirteen, the heart of the rebellion against the Hollow, against Riddle. We hijacked one of his planes to get you out. Your parents are here too. They’re alive. They’re okay. We got them out after the reaping. You and Regulus have inspired a lot of people.” Even hearing his name hurts. “With the help of your story, we can turn the tide of the oncoming war.”

“Regulus is dead.” James rasps. Saying those three words takes a lot out of him.

Lily’s smile is sad when she replies. “He isn’t.”

“What?”

“Sirius either.” Remus adds from his chair. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days and somewhere in the back of his mind, James wonders how long he was out for. 

“I saw them die. I watched it happen.” James protests. He won’t allow himself to have hope. 

“Minerva McGonagall is with us. She helped fake their deaths. We developed a mutt, an insect the size of a fruit fly. It’s bite replicates the signs of death for up to an hour. Slows the heart to the point where its beat is undetectable. She ordered the cannons to be fired prematurely. One of our aircrafts got them both out and brought them here. It was a near thing, but our medics were able to save both of them. Regulus is showing signs of waking up soon, though Sirius won’t wake for hours yet. They’re alive, James.”

James flicks his gaze to Remus, who nods once more. 

“Can I see him?” James asks. He still doesn’t believe it. He won’t until he has seen the proof for himself.

Lily nods and together, she and Remus help James to his feet. He’s unsteady, his leg aching terribly. But he ignores it as they take him from his room, down a hall and to the doorway of another room. “He’s in there.” Lily says. 

It could be a trap, James knows that. But he doesn’t care. Not when there’s the chance that Regulus is on the other side. He turns the knob and slowly, so slowly, he opens the door. And there. There. There is Regulus, his dark hair splayed haphazardly across the pillow. An IV in his arm, a breathing mask covering his nose and mouth. But there, so noticeable is the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

James lets out a choked noise, stumbling forwards, towards Regulus. He’s still asleep, so James runs a gentle hand through his hair, smoothing it before seating himself at Regulus’s bedside. 

It doesn’t take long for Regulus to begin stirring, but to James, it feels like an eternity. 

Regulus’s eyes peel open and slowly he peers around, taking in his surroundings. “Hey.” James whispered, a certain gentleness in his tone that is reserved solely for Regulus.

“What?” Regulus asks, slowly, confused and still a little sleepy, his voice muffled slightly from the mask. James relished in the way his breath clouded and fogged the inside of the mask, a sure sign of life. And his voice. His voice. God, he loves that voice. Regulus raised a hand and gingerly pulled down the mask to hang around his neck. It rested there for a moment before he grimaced and lifted it clear over his head, resting it on the pillow beside him. “No, I wasn’t supposed to survive. I don’t- I can’t remember what happened. How did I win?”

“You didn’t. We faked your death and stole you away before the Hollow could realize you were alive. The people who have been rebelling from the Hollow developed a bug that simulates the effects of death. It bit you. You didn’t win, but you’re alive. The games are still going on.” That last bit, he wasn’t sure about. The moment the words came out of his mouth, he regretted saying them. He had no idea what was going on in the Hollow now. So anxious to see Regulus, he hadn’t thought to ask.

“Sirius?” Regulus asked, sounding scared.

“He’s alive too. I haven’t seen him yet, but Remus’s friend, Lily, she’s here and she said he’s alive, they got him out too. He’s here, Reg. You’re both out. Safe.”

Regulus sagged, relief rushing through him so fast that it was almost like he was melting. 

“You did it, James. You found a way to save us both.”

James shook his head. He wouldn’t take the credit for this. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t even know about it until a few minutes ago. When I watched you and Sirius on that screen, heard the cannons fire, I, well, I didn’t react very well. Dorcas took me to the roof and then I had to be sedated. I just woke up a bit ago. But I thought- I thought you were… dead. Both of you.”

“I’m sorry.” Regulus said. His eyes were earnest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just… couldn’t bear the thought of having to live without him. I was trying to save him.”

“I know, baby, it’s okay. I know. It worked. Your plan worked. It gave the rebels the perfect opportunity to get you both out. You were both on the brink of death as it was, so it was easy to play it off as you actually being dead. You saved him, Reg. You saved you both.”

Regulus blinks hard and fast. “Sirius was on the brink of death?” 

James nods. Regulus will need to find out eventually. “He- uh- didn’t handle it very well either. So he was distracted when the death eaters found you both. Narcissa shot him in the back. Arrow went through his abdomen. He was going to bleed out. But he’s alive. He’s going to live.”

“He can come to our wedding.” Regulus whispered, before he promptly started to cry. James slowly climbed onto the bed, carefully not to jostle the IV, and wrapped his arms around Regulus’s battered body.

There would be time for anger later, because he was still a little angry.

But for now, there was just the future they once more had a chance at. And to James, that was enough.

Notes:

The whole crew lived happily ever after in secrecy in district thirteen.
James and Regulus got married.
And several years later so did Remus and Sirius.
The end.