The Story of Regulus Black - Years 5-7

CIII. Talk to Me

CW: mentions of torture (both physical & psychological) and child abuse

When Regulus Black awoke the next morning, he was warm.

He let out a quiet groan of displeasure caused by the fact that he was awake at all. He instinctively sought out the source of the warmth that he was receiving, tightening his arms around whatever it was that he was holding onto. He heard what sounded like a quiet breath of laughter as something tightened around his own waist and the vague sensation of a kiss on his forehead overcame him. He let out another groan that was quickly followed by the smallest of smiles as a hand gently brushed the hair from his forehead and another kiss followed.

"Good morning," said Barty quietly, his voice deeper than usual and hoarse from disuse.

"G'morning," Regulus mumbled in response, burying his face into the crook of Barty's neck and relishing int he warmth that was being supplied to him.

"How'd you sleep?" Barty asked, running his hand soothingly up and down the length of Regulus's spine. He focused on the feeling of Regulus's breath against his neck, the warmth of it mixed with the coldness that came with the tip of Regulus's nose.

Regulus was quiet for a moment before he gave the smallest of shrugs. "Fine," he lied, and Barty frowned a bit when he heard the doubt that dripped from Regulus's voice. It was as though he didn't even believe his own lie.

Barty sighed quietly. "Reg-"

"Sorry," he said quickly, lifting his head and staring at Barty through bleary eyes that were still half-closed. "I didn't sleep very well. I had a lot of bad dreams."

Barty's frown only deepened. "I'm sorry, my love." He reached up and tucked a few loose curls behind Regulus's ear. "Do you want to talk about them?"

Regulus shook his head. Talking about them would be like reliving them, reliving the horrible things that had been done and said, and that was something that he - above all else - did not want to do. "No," he said. "How did you sleep?" He was quick to flip the conversation onto Barty, to figure out how the boy was doing after he had done so little talking about himself and his own well being the day before.

Perhaps it was Regulus's fault that he hadn't spoken about it yet. Maybe he simply hadn't pushed hard enough, hadn't asked enough. He had been so focused on his own personal issues and what had happened to him to insist on Barty speaking about his own experiences, his own problems with what had happened to the two. He felt guilty, guilty for not urging Barty to speak about his experiences and guilty for putting Barty into that position in the first place.

Barty simply shrugged. "I slept fine," he said, and Regulus didn't catch a single trace of a lie. Even then, though, the smallest of frowns tugged at the corners of his mouth and Barty was quick to resume the motion of rubbing his back. "Really, Reg, I slept fine. I don't even think I had any dreams, and if I did then I certainly don't remember them."

Regulus shifted his body, propping himself up on his elbow and draping his other arm across Barty's chest. "Barty, you haven't talked about yesterday." He watched Barty's face fall for the briefest of moments before it returned to normal. "You went through something too, Barty. Something a lot worse than what I did. I just... you always say that it's bad for me to keep things bottled up, but it's bad for you, too. You have to talk about it."

Barty pursed his lips for a moment, his hands stopping near the small of Regulus's back. "Reg, I don't really want to talk about it right now."

Regulus's frown only deepened. "Barty-"

"Not now, ok?" There was the smallest hint of a snap to his voice. He immediately tried to backtrack, guilt settling over him the second he had stopped talking at all. "I just don't want to talk about it. Not right now, at least. Later."