The Story of Regulus Black - Years 5-7

XXXIII. Holiday Break

CW: child abuse (verbal), self-harm, & mention of child abuse (physical)

Regulus stayed inside. For all of Christmas break, he stayed inside. He curled up in his bed, and he thought, and he was filled to the brim with guilts and regrets that he knew he couldn't take back.

Regulus Black truly felt like the worst person in the entire world.

He had hurt Benji. He had hurt Benji in the way that he swore he would never hurt anyone. He thought back to the words that he had spoken to Christian over the summer, and it just made him feel that much worse.

"Do you want to know the difference between you and me, Christian? I never would have cheated on you in the first place."

Apparently, Regulus was not as good as he thought. But, that wasn't very surprising at all, was it? He was a Black, after all - perhaps bad just ran in his blood.

But no, that wasn't it at all, was it? Because Sirius shared the same genes as Regulus, and Sirius was good. Sirius was better than Regulus could ever even dream of being. It wasn't written inside of him, because if it was then the same would be said for Sirius. Regulus had made choices in his life that had led him up to this. Regulus was simply an inherently bad person who tried to pretend that he was good.

Everyone was right.

Sirius was right, the Dark Lord was right, all of them. Regulus had been wrong to think that he was good. He was... he was just bad. He was a bad person who made the occasional good decision.

And he lay in bed, and he wallowed in these thoughts, and he let himself feel. He didn't try to shut himself down, and he instead let himself feel every single negative thought that ran through him. He let the voice in his head carry on unopposed, screaming and screaming and insisting that Regulus was the worst person in the world. He let it all go on because he knew that he deserved it. Merlin did Regulus deserve it.

His mother yelled at him, and she told him how disappointed she was in him for being too weak to get out of bed, and she told him that what he was going through was worthless in the grand scheme of things; that he was worthless in the grand scheme of things. She would shout for hours, telling him she had done so much for him and how dare he take it for granted. And Regulus took all of her words because he knew that he deserved them. He took it all because what else was he supposed to do?

When she wasn't yelling, she was quiet. She was standing by his bedside, silent as she watched him eat. Because as much as she was disgusted by her son's behavior, she needed him to eat so that he could keep his strength up for any plans that the Dark Lord may have. She knew of the plans, and she was absolutely furious at the way that Regulus was acting.

Regulus forced the food down, and then he lay down and tried to fight off the threat at the base of his throat; the threat that the food was presenting to him by twisting and rising and threatening to force its way out. And his mother would yell, and then she would leave, and Regulus was left alone.

The only reason that Regulus was showering was so that he could have a space that was safe and secluded enough for him to carry out what he wanted. He would slice open the skin on his ribs and on his biceps (because yes, he had moved onto the skin of his upper arms for the hope that it would hurt more; perhaps the skin there would not be used to the pain and it would hurt worse than it did on his ribs), and he would watch the water run red beneath him, and he would think.

His showers were steadily increasing in length as the time between the making of the incision and the healing of it would become longer and longer. He would spend more time focusing on the sting and the burn of water against open wounds, and he would close his eyes, and he would force himself not to focus on anything else.