Chapter Text
‘Do you know why he had to leave?’
The words cut through the silence like a blade. Like a pair of scissors through a piece of paper, separating it into two parts. Two half’s that were once one, of the same material, originating from the same tree.
Alphard looks at the door of the sacristy. Not at the altar or the ceiling, not even the huge stone tiles that the floor is paved with, like most people tend to do in churches. But then again Alphrad isn’t like most people. At least not in this family. It’s probably the first time since Sirius confirmation that Rhea sees him in a church, or at all. And that was two years ago.
‘I’m not sure. But I think I should know.’ She keeps tapping her fingers on her thigh and continues to stare holes in her uncles side profile. She’s a bit worried that he might vanish into thin air every second.
‘Why is that?’ He asks.
‘somehow...it feels like I’m responsible for it.’ She can feel her hands shaking. The words are hard to get out. ‘Like it’s my fault but...no matter how hard I try to remember what I did, I...I just can’t.’ It feels like her heart is beating in an irregular rhythm.
‘Maybe that’s because it’s not your fault. Belief me, it’s nothing you did and there is nothing you could’ve done to change it.’ His voice sounds kind of distant, Rhea doesn’t like it.
‘But you know, do you? Why he’s gone, I mean.’ Her voice is much more quiet than before. She isn’t sure why she asked, she already knows the answer. He and Sirius were very close, or as close as it’s possible when you only see each other every two or three years.
‘He isn’t dead, kid. He’s just somewhere else and we don’t know for how long.’ Her uncle says. ’But yes, I do know.’ Usually she hates it when someone addresses her with pet names but this time she doesn’t mind. Since as of late a kid is exactly what she feels like. A small, helpless child.
‘...but you’re not going to tell me, am I right?’
He finally turns his head to look at her and tries to smile. But it doesn’t linger. ‘No, I don’t think I’m entitled to. But he won’t be gone forever so eventually you’ll get the chance to ask him yourself.’
Rhea doesn’t believe a single word of what he’s saying and she thinks he doesn’t either.
Alphard gets up and the bench squeaks a little. As soon as they’re outside he wishes her goodbye with a wave and turns to leave. This way it feels like they’ll see each other again tomorrow or so. But Rhea knows it’ll be a much longer. About another year, then her confirmation will be held. With or without Sirius.
She watches him go. Trying to manoeuvre his way from the graveyard without stepping into one of the dozens of puddles this nights rain left behind.
He’s leaving. It’s the second time in three days that a person that gives her a sense of safety leaves her alone. Safety is weird word in this context since she isn’t actually in danger if Sirius or Alphard aren’t around. But it’s the only word that fits.
Sirius always gave her a small pause from the rest of the world. No matter how crowded or filled with void her surroundings were, time seemed to halt and everything got a little bit darker. Like in a theatre, when all lights go out except for one that makes all focus shift to the protagonist of the scene. In their case it was them, but mostly Sirius.
Everything sort of stopped when she stepped into his room or hid in closets with him. Or when they laid on the porch in their garden to watch the stars. Or every time he shot her glances from across the dinner table, trying not to laugh over the very obvious lies their father told their mother. This always meant that their parents would argue all evening into the night and that meant no one would check if they were in their beds sleeping.
So every time this happened Rhea would spend half of the night in Sirius’ room playing pretend with him, and it happened a lot. Pretending that the world is different but knowing it's not. Pretending and knowing that everything in those four walls is temporary and doesn't exist outside of them. Pretending in the safety of knowing that it's just a game.
Pretending not to pretend.
She knows her uncle tried to make her feel safe today as well. He managed it more than most people do, which isn’t hard since most of then don’t even try. When she saw him sitting in one of the benches from which you couldn’t see anything except the pulpit directly in front of you, pressed so close to the wall as if he waned to become part of it, some knot in her lungs unfurled and she could breath normally for the first time that day. He didn't make the world stop or the lights go out but she hadn't expected him to.
He wasn’t Sirius, they weren’t even a bit similar personality wise, but he was the closest thing she had.
Uncle Alphard and the rest of the Black family didn’t get along. It’s been like this for as long as she can remember. She didn’t know why but he was excluded from pretty much very occasion her family used to come together. And even if he weren't he wouldn't want to go to most of them, but there were some he decided to attend anyway, like Sirius’s confirmation for example. But no mater how hard he tried, he would never measure up to Sirius.
A hand on her shoulder brings her back to reality. ‘I should have known he’d come. So typical, only shows up to either ruin everything or to laugh a the pieces.’
She looks up at her mother who grits her teeth. ‘Come now, your father is waiting and it’s freezing!’ Walpurga grips her daughter around the wrist and tugs her in the direction of the parish hall where their car is parked. Over their head's the sky is getting darker again, there will be more rain.
It’s evening and the day was, except for the church visit, eventless. If Rhea’s honest she didn’t expect anything else, but a little bit mourning or worrying or even confusion would’ve been nice regardless.
As much as she appreciated seeing Alphard today she hates that he planted the idea in her head that Sirius might return. That he would eventually turn up on their doorstep and everything will be as before.
She’s pretty sure that he won’t.
Sirius may be a bit rash and over reactive from time to time but he was also stubborn. This meant if he was set that leaving was what he wanted to do, for what ever reason, than he’s going to leave and going to stay away. He only left three days ago but to Rhea it feels like much longer.
Rhea stands at the top of the staircase staring at the door on the other side of the hallway. A normal sized wooden door with a small golden plaque on it, much like the one on hers. The only difference being the letters engraved in it.
‘S.O.B.’ She whispers. ‘Sirius Orion Black.’
Her words sound like a spell that summons the object, or person, of her desirer. But it doesn’t work, of course not. Every step that carries her closer to her brothers room makes her pulse rise. Before she reaches for the door handle she nocks.
Nothing.
Slowly she opens the door and peaks inside. But Sirius isn’t there. He doesn’t sit on his bed or his desk, turning his head so forcefully in her direction that his hair slaps in his face. He always did it intentionally, she knows that by now but she still always laughs like she doesn’t.
But not now, because he isn’t here and laughing over an unmade bed and desk that’s covered with stickers on the bottom would be silly.
But if he were here he’d halt for a short moment, listening if he could hear their parents screaming at each other downstairs, which you could at the moment. She thinks this time it’s about her uncle. There is always something worth fighting about. After he confirmed that there was no one to disturb them in the near future, he’d indicate her to come in and close the door behind her.
She does.
‘Do you have time for me right now?’ She’d ask. ‘Depends. What do you want?’ He’d answer.
‘You know what I want.’ She always says, because she hates calling it "playing pretend",it sounds like their playing house or pretending to be fairies. But calling it by what it actually was isn’t an option either, because…actually she doesn’t really know why, it just wasn’t possible. Even though there is a word for it.
‘Of course I know. I know everything.’ He always says and when she rolls her eyes he’d ruffle her hair, which she hates even more.
Sirius’ hair was longer than hers by now. Originally it had just about reached his ears and hers was shoulder length. But once, on a night like this, he had reached for the scissors and said that, if she wanted to pretend she was him her hair needed to play its part as well. So they cut it.
It looked horrible because one side was slightly askew but Rhea liked it anyway. Obviously their mother was horrified but couldn’t do anything about it so she fixed her daughters hair cut a bit here and there and they let it grow out again. And so did Sirius.
Currently she and her mother are on an agreement that her hair doesn’t reach further than her jaw, because she doesn’t like it, if it’s tickling her neck. But this agreement doesn’t apply to Sirius, so his is about as long as hers was before. Their mother wasn’t a fan of that either but never did anything about it despite the occasional remarks when he left it open while eating. Their father was laughing about the whole debacle in secret, giving his wife another reason to stare daggers at him. Rhea never saw the looks of 'it-is-just-hair-don't-fuss-about-it' or 'maybe-you-should-shave-both-their-heads-the-next-time-but-that-would-bother-you-more-than-them' as Sirius liked to call them. Sometimes she's even convinced Sirius made them up to stop her from feeling bad about it. But if she ever does feel bad about it she just reminds herself that Sirius loved his hair so much he considered it a personality trait of his. And he would've never found that out if it weren't for her.
The first thing Rhea does when she allows herself to move again is placing a small jar on her brothers bedside table. It’s filled with exactly 50 paper stars and a string of lights, so it can serve as a lamp. She had the idea for a long time but thought this year would be the right occasion. Only that he isn’t here to receive his gift.
‘Happy 17th Sirius.’ She says and then turns around to face his closet.
In there, on the top left shelf is a huge cardboard box. It’s filled with Sirius’ old clothing, she has a similar one in her closet, but she never opens hers. Sirius’ on the other hand practically belongs to her at this point. When they started to do what ever it was they’re doing the “game” would be as follows:
Rhea recalls a moment of her life that she wasn’t happy about and ask her brother what he’d done in her place. Then she’d dress up in her brothers old clothes and pretend she were him and Sirius were her. They’d play through everything that happened and it would make her feel better.
It’s like replaying past experiences in your head, with the difference that this way they didn’t stay in her had. It also wasn’t the same thing as talking about it, she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to formulate her sorrows in a way that sounds accurate. This way they created a distance between her and her problems, it made it easier.
Only after some time they started to act out moments that made her happy or just any moment. Then Sirius didn’t pretend to be her any more and she didn’t pretend to be him. They were just Sirius and…
She didn’t really know what to call herself, because she wasn’t Rhea. She hadn’t been Rhea for a long time. But she didn’t know if it was right to give...it…a name. It felt too personal, too real.
Until Sirius said, that that’s okay. That it felt too personal because it was and it’s normal to be afraid to name things you don’t quite understand. But often times doing so made it easier to deal with them and if you some day decided that it doesn’t fit you can always either rename it or leave it be.
When he said that, it sounded too poetic or adult to be formulated by him. She said so and he laughed. ‘Actually a friend’s mother said it to me. It helped me and I thought it might help you as well.’
‘Helped with what?’ She asked but he didn’t answer. He only asked if she wanted to give it a name or not. She said, she’d think about it and that she did.
She wanted the name to feel as personal as the feeling of “pretending” was. Sirius and her ended up to both search for a fitting one on their own, until eventually she found it. The name she, since then, used every time her and Sirius got together like this.
Then every time she entered this room and he hers.
Then ‘Rhea’s room’ became ‘Regulus’ room’ and the plaque on her door meant ‘Regulus Arcturus Black’. Probably the biggest suprise about it was that it never felt like pretending, strange definitely, but never like she pretended like the name fit her. It just did, even though it took some time to get used to it.
It was all a very gradual transition. She didn’t even notice the shift until Sirius sat her down one evening and asked her, if she wanted him to talk about her as ‘Regulus’ instead of ‘Rhea’ in front of his friends. He said they’d be okay with it and she said, yes.
Now that Regulus holds his brothers old trousers of his year nine uniform in hand he considers for the first time if he should take them to his room, just in case.
If he’s honest he thought about telling someone, after all it’s been almost a year since he officially named himself. But it still felt weird to consider this as himself. Even if he sometimes catches the little voice in his head calling him Regulus or even talking about himself the way he does right now.
Like he’s a boy.
It’s okay behind closed doors, more than okay actually. But outside of here, in the presence of other people than his brother it’s different. Some days he’s sure it’s only because he’s not used to it, if it felt strange with Sirius at first as well. But on others he thinks it’s because he isn’t supposed to be this way, because it’s wrong for him to be like this. He doesn't feel like this about other people, but with himself it's different, sometimes at least.
Sirius would immediately grab him by the shoulders, shake him and tell him to stop thinking like that. And that sometimes things just are the way they are, without us having an explanation for them and that Alphard once said that to him and it helped him and he thought it might help him too.
Then Regulus would, again, ask, what it helped him with. And Sirius would, again, not answer but assure him that he was okay with it, his friends were okay with it and other people would be too if he decided this was what he wanted.
He said, he wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted, but it was a lie. He was sure, but he wasn’t ready to tell Sirius that yet even though he knew anyway.
And now...now he would probably never be able to tell him even though he wanted to. He wanted it more than anything else.
‘I’m ready, Sirius. Can you hear me? This is what I want.’ He whispers into the darkness of his brothers empty room. The room with an unmade bed and a desk full of stickers. The room with a closet that contains Regulus’ greatest blessing and greatest sin at once.
He sinks to his knees and cries. Something he swore not to do. He swore he wouldn’t cry about Sirius’ absence, because he knew it’d feel like this, like it finalises it.
He doesn’t know how long he stared at the floor boards of the room with eyes blurry from tears, clutching the trousers to his chest, when he decides that it’s enough. He also decides to actually take the piece of clothing with him, just in case.
Before he closes the door he glances at the small, star filled, glowing jar on the bedside table.
‘Goodnight Sirius. I hope you had a nice birthday, wherever you are.’ The door clicks shut but this time, Regulus doesn’t stay in the room.