ENCHANTED ⇒ jegulus

TWELVE

When James finds Regulus, he is hunched over a toilet bowl in the men's bathrooms. The sounds of desperate retching fill the room, paired with the sounds of shaky, hyperventilated breathing noises.

James closes the door behind him. "Regulus?" He calls out gently. Only the sounds of retching answer him. James sighs softly, crossing into the stall.

Regulus is crumpled against the toilet bowl, his head bowed, his frail hands clutching the toilet bowl so tightly, so fiercely that they have become ivory. He's shaking and his hands tremble, struggling to grip the porcelain.

The worst part about the sight is that Regulus isn't actually getting sick. James is sure he would have rathered see the sight of Regulus vomiting rather than the shaking boy that sits in front of him.

"Regulus..." James repeats. "That...that was rough and I just wanted to check-"

"Just go away, Potter," Regulus tries to snap but it holds no weight. His voice is unusually weak, a rock salt rasping sound.

Oh Merlin. James bites his lip. Regulus is crying. Regulus Black is crying. It plays like a mantra within jamss' head. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Maybe he should have let Sirius come. He has no idea how to comfort Regulus. James suspects briefly that even Sirius mightn't have any idea of how to do that either.

James pauses. He hesitates. "Are...Regulus, are you crying?" He asks, hoping to all Gods that the answer is a firm no. He doesn't particularly want to see Regulus Black cry and he is certain that Regulus doesn't want James Potter to see him cry either.

Regulus' head whirls around to look up at James. His silver eyed are glassy and red rimmed, his cheeks are stained with the sight of streaks of tears. "Just fuck off, leave me alone," He grits.

James shakes his head. "You know I can't do that." He says firmly. "That Vow ensures that I'm there for you, so I'm not going to leave you alone to weep in a murky ministry bathroom,"

As if to prove this, James slides down the wall of the bathroom stall so that he is sitting next to Regulus.

"I'm sorry, I thought Harper-"

"Well, he didn't," Regulus interrupts roughly. He shakes his head, finally tearing himself away from the toilet bowl. "I...I'm sorry for snapping, fuck," He murmurs. "And I'm not crying, by the way," He adds hastily. But James watches as he dabs at his eyes.

"It's...it's okay if you are, though, you know that right?" James says.

Regulus shakes his head. "No, no it fucking isn't," He inhales sharply. "Nothing about any of this is okay. They're not going to do anything about Harper. I...I told you all I wouldn't be of any benefit to this case,"

"That's not true. You offered a lot of evidence, Regulus," James tries. "I...I know this isn't easy for you, but you did the right thing,"

"I'm not offering anything other than a solution for Harper's team. They like that I have that stupid fucking mark. They like that Harper doesn't," Regulus pauses. "By fucking existing, I've given them a defense to use," His breathing has evened out a little bit more.

James glances at Regulus. "It's not about that. It shouldn't be about that. Regulus, he fucking stabbed you! You...anything could've happened, you could've lost the-"

"Not like he would've minded that. It's not even his kid, Potter," Regulus whispers, finally looking James in the eye. His eyelids are decorated with discoloration and heavy bags that sit beneath them. "I...I got myself stabbed because-"