Chapter Text
James cannot sleep.
He cannot close his eyes without seeing the day’s past events in his mind, stuck reliving what happened like a broken record. He cannot begin to understand where he truly went wrong with things, how a seemingly innocent comment could trigger Regulus that much.
He’s really fucked it up this time. If Regulus didn’t seem to like him all that much before, he can’t bear to imagine how he must hate James now. And what’s even worse, he can't even talk to his Mum about it, not without Regulus overhearing the entire conversation. Sirius wouldn’t understand, either.
So, what is he supposed to do now? Should he ask Sirius to replace him as his Mum’s companion? No, scratch that. That’s a terrible idea. Sirius hated Regulus when they met, no doubt the both of them will be much more uncomfortable if they have to stay in the same room for a week. Sirius doesn’t have that much leave from work either.
He won’t ask Remus, or his Dad. They’re both busy at work, and they don’t need to come clean up one of James’ messes again. He promised his Dad he would take care of his Mum, so he will do it well.
He has to stay. He’ll stay. He’ll stay and try to make it up to Regulus.
Ultimately, all that matters is his Mum. He really does like Regulus, and he’d like to at least be friends, but family comes first. That’s what he’s always thought.
Semper fidelis . There’s no choice, not really. Semper fidelis , he repeats to himself.
It’s why they took Sirius in without a second thought. He might not have Potter blood running through his veins, but he might as well have. Regulus will have to suck it up, because he’s not leaving his mother. He’s not going to let his family down.
Not again .
Snapping out of his thoughts, James runs his hands through his hair, making it stick up all in different directions. He pushes the covers off, sitting up. The nurses were too kind to turn his couch into a makeshift bed, giving him some bed sheets to cover himself.
It still isn’t enough to put him to sleep. Maybe taking a walk will help cure his nerves. He could also ask Dorcas for a sleeping pill. Whichever is easier. Faster, too.
It’s twelve-thirty in the morning though, and he really doesn’t want to bother any of the kind nurses just because he can’t sleep; it’s not fair for them. He groans, rubbing his eyes and stretching his arms over his head.
All of a sudden, he hears rustling of sheets, and James is certain it wasn’t him; is his Mum up? He snaps his gaze over to her bed, finding her peacefully asleep. Weird. It came all over from Regulus’ side of the room, then. Maybe he can’t sleep either. Maybe James has finally gone crazy, and he’s hallucinating the whole thing, just looking for excuses to talk to Regulus again.
He wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the case. Horrible case of inbreeding in her Mum’s family. Awful genetic pool, must’ve finally made him go mad.
Euphemia Potter, neé Nott, had a rough childhood, to put it lightly. She never does speak much about it with him, but James can sometimes see her sadness. It’s all in the small things. His parents’ hushed whispers after she gets particularly awful correspondence from the Notts, Euphemia’s face after seeing her brothers on the Daily Prophet, it would take a blind man not to see the wound has never closed.
He’s not idiotic enough to believe one can possibly have such a childhood and remain unscarred.
Not after having seen what the Blacks have done to Sirius first hand. The hurt doesn’t go away, you just learn to live with it.
The scars might fade away and blend in, but they’re still there, waiting. Waiting patiently for something to open them back up.
All things considered, James likes to think Effie is happy with her life. Pleased with her job, in love with her husband, and grateful for her two wonderful sons. Wonderful might be a stretch, though. She’s the most positive person he knows, and she’s been with James through thick and thin. Picking him up every time he fell down, and showering him with all the love she never got to feel first-hand. Breaking the cycle. Making sure James doesn’t have even an ounce of an idea of what it is to grow up that way.
Nothing stops his father from teasing her terribly about the inbreeding all the time, though. He finds the whole affair terribly funny. So does Effie, funnily enough.
Clearing his mind from what feels like the hundredth time that night, and leaning back against the couch, he debates going back for that pill after all. This hospital is doing things to his mind. Well, maybe not the hospital itself. Its residents, more like. Regulus, in particular.
He can’t help but feel like he’s missing something. Missing the final piece in the puzzle, one that very well seems like it’s much bigger than them all.
Regulus makes him feel like that. Regulus and his desolate side of the room. Regulus and his untrusting stare. Regulus. Regulus. Regulus.
Just, Regulus .
Today’s affair reminded him awfully of how Sirius was the first few years after taking him in. Terrified. Untrusting. Withdrawn. James doesn’t know what caused Regulus to become the way he is, but he’s determined to help him. If Sirius could get out of that bad mental space, so can Regulus. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to try.
It’s still twelve-thirty in the morning, and James hears Regulus’ bed sheets rustling again . He could have hallucinated it once, but twice? Not likely.
James squints his eyes at the source of the sound, trying to make out Regulus in the dark room. Maybe he’s one of those sleep walkers. Hopefully not.
He really does need to get those new prescription glasses his Mum’s been nagging him about. He can’t see a damned thing in the dark with his current ones. Blind as his Dad, as Effie always reminds him.
It’s probably nothing. Regulus is asleep, and so should he be.
He lays back down on the couch, pulling the thin sheet up to his chin, begging sleep to take him. Alert and awake, he stares up at the ceiling, trying to put his mind to rest. Seems like an impossible task, so far.
He loses track of time, thinking about his friends, about his dad’s conference, about Sirius. His phone vibrates from where he’s left him last, and he hurries to pick it up, grateful for a most welcome distraction.
He hears another sound coming over from Regulus’ bed. He seems to be mumbling to himself about something.
Sirius again. He’s sent him a picture of Remus and him at his home, curled up on the couch. Remus on his part seems blissfully asleep, and Sirius is staring lovingly at him, just content to hold his boyfriend while he rests. James’ heart twists painfully in his chest, always overjoyed and excited that his friends have found a kindred soul in each other, but also the tiniest bit envious of their connection- one James has yet to find with anyone.
James quickly types out a response, cooing internally at the awfully domestic picture of his favourite couple. Remus is sure to be grumbly about the picture once he finds out about it. And he will , if James has anything to do with it. What are brothers for, after all?
And, when the clock strikes 1 in the morning, after having tossed and turned around in his bed for half an hour, Regulus rolls his eyes, grumbling, "One would think they'd know how to tuck in bedsheets appropriately in the best fucking hospital in town."
James perks up, flashing a grin, and bursts out, "Ready to admit you need my help?"
"Take a hint, Potter. I have this covered."
He snorts, raising an eyebrow over his thick glasses. “Clearly not,” James teases, nodding to what is now clearly an uncovered socked foot peeking out of the fluffy duvet covering Regulus’ form.
Regulus huffs, glaring daggers at him. “Think yourself funny, do you?”
“Very,” James cuts in, feeling lighter after leaving yesterday’s events behind them. “On my way to becoming a full time comedian, I’d say.”
“Can comedians make beds?” Regulus replies, looking at him with mirth in his eyes.
“Depends for whom.”
The corner of Regulus’ mouth twitches upwards, and James be damned if that isn’t the single most endearing thing he’s seen all day. It disappears as quickly as it comes, and he now knows he will try his best to make Regulus smile as often as possible. If not for Regulus, but for James himself, who doesn’t deserve living a life without seeing it ever again.
Regulus rolls his eyes, laughing. “For me, you dimwit,” he counters. “My foot’s going to fall off from the cold.”
“Poor you. The travesty!” James says, already standing over to Regulus’ side of the bed and peeking at the socks Regulus is wearing. “ Snakes , really?”
Regulus blushes furiously, swiping his foot at him and aiming to kick him away. “Shove off, they’re cute.”
“Snakes aren’t cute,” James counters, wrinkling his nose in distaste, and inching closer to see the sock more clearly. Damn these glasses, he can’t see shite. Oh, Cartoon snakes. With little glasses and baby fangs.
James smirks, standing back up and leaning against the side of the bed. “I stand corrected. Those snakes are cute.”
“Damn right they are. My—” Regulus stops for a second, taking a deep breath. “Sister got them for me. Worn them ever since.”
Oh. Oh . Can James just stop making a complete ass of himself for a second? Making fun of his sister’s socks. Fantastic . He rubs his neck anxiously, trying to think of— anything to say. “I—I didn’t know.”
Regulus bursts out laughing, covering his mouth with both of his hands. “Your—your face! You should have seen it,” he teases, hushing his voice again to avoid waking Euphemia up, still sleeping peacefully next to them. “I bought them last month, you silly man. They look bright new!”
James blushes slightly, pointing to his black frames. “See that? Blind as a bat.”
“I thought people got glasses to stop being “blind as a bat”,” he teases, raising his eyebrows at him in disbelief.
He perches down on the end of Regulus’ bed, taking his glasses off and handing them to Regulus. “I got a new prescription. These are ancient , they barely help me anymore.”
Regulus clicks his tongue, grabbing the glasses carefully. “They do look beat up,” he says, running his fingers through a crack in the top of the frames. “Is that—tape? Really, Potter?”
James smiles sheepishly at him, shrugging. “I’ve had them since highschool, my brother picked them out for me. I’m attached to them, you could say.”
“Oh. That sounds nice. He sounds nice, too. Nicer than he was to me, at least,” Regulus replies, handing the glasses back safely to James, who perches them again on his nose with a smile.
“He really is. He’s the nicest to Moony, though.”
“Moony?”
James huffs out a laugh, unused to speaking to someone who doesn’t know all of them. The marauders. Thick as thieves, ever since they met each other in elementary. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and well, Prongs. “His boyfriend, and one of my best friends. I think I mentioned him before. His name’s Remus. You’d like him. Quiet, that one. Kind of like you.”
“Oh, right. That you did. When did they start seeing each other?” Regulus asks, seemingly interested in Sirius’ love life. The same Sirius he despised at first sight.
“They got together in, what was it— eighth grade? Yes, that must be. Together since eighth grade. Isn’t that fantastic?” James rambles on.
Regulus swallows, nodding quickly. “That’s a lot of time.”
“Almost as much as he’s moved in with us. Time flies, doesn’t it?” James replies, already fishing his phone out of his pocket to show today’s picture to Regulus. “See? That’s Moony,” he says, pointing at Remus in the picture.
Regulus squints at the picture, seemingly taken aback. “They—they make a good couple.”
“Sure they do. I got them together.”
He lifts an eyebrow, staring at James sceptically. “Of course you did.”
“I’m not lying!”
Regulus keeps staring at him, eyebrow cocked in disbelief. “Whatever you say, four eyes.”
James looks at Regulus incredulously, before bursting out laughing. He pants, smiling widely at Regulus. “Was that a—joke? Did you just tease me?”
“Shove off,” Regulus replies, cheeks pinking and making a dismissive gesture towards his still uncovered foot. “Get to it, twat.”
“Of course, His Majesty,” James replies, taking a bow, and holding the sheet right over the foot. “Like this?”
He covers the foot entirely for a moment, before suddenly grabbing the duvet and uncovering Regulus’ entire calf. “Or is this better, Your Highness?”
Regulus glares at him from the other side of the bed. “Potter.”
“Yes, Regulus?”
“Cover my leg.”
“And—why on earth would I do that?” James replies, relieved at the easy back-and-forth between the two of them.
Regulus holds the bridge of his nose, exasperated. “Because I asked?”
“I didn’t hear a question. ”
“Fix the duvet?” Regulus asks, gritting his teeth tightly.
James tsks, grinning even more widely. “Now, now. Where are your manners, Mr. Smith?”
“ Potter. ” Regulus warns, his stare turning even more sour.
James throws his hands up, always one to know when to drop an issue. “It’s my pleasure.”
He makes quick work of the bedsheet and duvet, fixing them both quickly and arranging the duvet to avoid it slipping out again. “That better now?”
Regulus huffs, a small smile peeking out. “Yes. Go to sleep now, Potter. I’m starting to get a migraine.”
“Right away, sir!” James teases, saluting at Regulus and walking back over to his own makeshift bed. He gets into the bed quickly, eyes falling shut almost automatically. He doesn’t seem to be having any trouble sleeping any longer. Weird.