Paint It... Potter?

Babe.

And so they forgot about it. Or at least they tried to for the next two weeks. Although Regulus now had a serious aversion to water. He figured that out when he had a panic attack in the shower. Luckily Barty was the one who found him. It was the first night they came back. He decided he really needed a shower, so he went to the upstairs bathroom, he turned it on fine, but when he tried to get in was when the issue happened. He was fine for a moment, but then water got in his eye and his foot slipped, and he landed himself outside of the shower. His head hit the floor with a crack.  Not a minute later and there was a knock at the door.

"Hey Reg, you good." He didn't say anything couldn't say anything. The word burnt too much to even attempt to say, and the air felt heavy in his lungs. He felt the solid rapid pounding of his heart. He was breathing to quick, too much, yet it couldn't possibly be enough. The pounding in his chest spread to his head, pounding behind his eyes.

"Reg!" He called again. But Regulus barely heard it. There was an almost static sound mingling with the slamming of his heartbeat throughout his body.

"Regulus!"

Barty called for him a third time, it could have been more, but Regulus wasn't registering much of anything. The ache of his ribs, as he took quick shallow breaths. The burning in his arm where the splintered black scar sat. The stabbing pain that lived in the ankle he broke, though it was long healed. And the searing feeling of his mother's ring in his cheek. All of the cuts along his legs and back placed by his mother. It was too much. To much.

"Regulus, I'm coming in."

But he didn't care. He sat there naked back pressed to the wall next to the door. He clawwed at his chest. Maybe he could reach through and grab his heart if he tried hard enough. But then the door opened and he was hit with cold air and the image of his best friend crouching in frot of him. Regulus looked into his eyes. Barty was talking. He was always talking. Sometimes it annoyed Regulus, and sometimes he pretended it annoyed him, but really secretly he loved it. Regulus never was one for conversation. And Barty could more than make up for it.

"I was going to go get potter." Regulus finally could make out the words barty was saying over the pounding in his head.

"Good thing I didn't though, don't think he'd be able to handle himself if he saw you like this." Barty attempted a joke, and it melted Regulus's heart. "I mean, I myself am having a few thoughts." Barty shrugged, and Regulus cracked an uneasy smile.

"Can you blame me?" Barty laughed out, although Regulus knew it was a bit forced."This was some set up, right?" Barty asked."Oh no, Potter, help I'm naked in the upstairs bathroom, I hope you don't come in and ravish me." Barty said in a high-pitched poor imitation of Regulus voice.

"Shut up." Regulus croaked out. Although he was smiling and the room had stopped spinning around him, he was still on edge.

"Ah," Barty said with a sincere little smile. "There he is." Barty leaned against the edge of the tub. It had stopped running, which was calming for Regulus. Who had for the first time noticed that he was completely naked in front of Barty.

"I'm naked." Regulus said eyes wide.

"Yeah," barty shrugged, looking him up and down. "So?"

"Merlin Barty." Regulus said, scrambling for a towel.

"Nothing I haven't seen before." Barty shrugged, raising an eyebrow. Regulus blushed a bit.

"Yes, it is." He said a bit louder than he had thought.

"They're all the same," Barty said

"No, they are not Regulus said, bringing a towel around himself. It wasn't so much being naked that bothered him, although he did have his insecurities. His ribs stuck out too much. He didn't have enough muscle. All in all he was rather small. But what really bothered him was the scars. He knew he had scars everywhere. They were up and down his back and under his arms on his ribs, and no one save for his brother had ever seen them.

"And how would you know?" Barty asked. "Regulus, you slag." He gasped, pressing a hand to his chest seemingly scandalized. "Last I knew you didn't have a sex life." Barty leaned in, grabbing his face as he whispered. "Who did this to you?" Regulus pushed Barty off of him. The other boy had no regard for personal space.

"Shove off." He said. Scowling at Barty.  In truth, he still had no sex life, but, Barty knew that he was just trying to make Regulus laugh and distract him from the situation.

"Alright then," Barty said, standing up and stretching. "We've still got to get you clean, though." Reg paled, but Barty smirked at him, realizing how the idea made him feel.

" I mean, I could probably convince Potter to come up here if you'd like." Regulus's face took a turn from the ghastly pale to a pink that coated his cheeks.

"I'm sure you'd love that, wouldn't you. Maybe he would give you a sponge bath if you asked nicely. Who am I kidding. Barty asked. He would love to run his soapy lit-"

"Fucking Salazar." Regulus said running his hand over his face. "Shut up Barty." Barty laughed again.

"How about a bath?" Barty suggested the idea made Regulus feel miserable. "Just a shallow one if you like. And I'll wash your hair and all that for you too."

"You're not touching my fucking hair." Regulus was very particular about how he kept his hair and surely Barty would muck it up.

"Alright then." Barty said clapping his hands together. "I'll run you a nice warm bath. And you can pamper yourself as much as you'd like." Regulus rolled his eyes at Bartys choice of words."would you like wine and crackers too?" Barty asked shutting off the tap.

"No" Regulus said with another eye roll. "You'll stay though?" He asked suddenly anxious as he tried to step into the tub.

"Of course." Said Barty sliding down the wall next to the tub.

"And Barty." Regulus said

"Yeah?" Barty asked looking up at him.

"Thank you." Regulus said as he finally sat in the water.

"Anytime babe." Barty said with a wink.

The two were late to dinner that night, everyone noticed but nobody said anything. They had a special relationship. They were almost like kindred spirits. Two halfs of the same person. So when they were late to dinner, they slid wordlessly into the two chairs next to each other. that somehow were left open for them, and the conversation continued.

That night, things took a turn for the worst. It was a cold sweat sort of sleep. An uneasy eerie excuse for rest greeted him as his eyes closed. In his dream he was back in the lake. But this time it was the voice of his mother.

"I hate you." She spoke into him

"I know." He shrugged off. Clamping his lips closed, fighting against the water, trying to force its way into his mouth.

"You're a disappointment." She yelled at him

"I know he said." And as the word escaped him, water found its way in buring into his lungs.

"You're worthless." She told him.

"I know he told her, his tears mixed with the water. And where the air left his mouth, water replaced it.

"It would have been better if you had died in that lake." She hissed in his ears.

"I know." He said with his last available breth finally succumbing to the dark water.

He sprung up in his bed, reaching for his chest. He brushed his hands over his body, attempting to get the water off of himself. But there was nothing. There was nothing. It was a dream. A nightmare. It was a nightmare.

He got out of bed, he grounded himself as his feet hit the cool hardwood floor. He didn't remember deciding where to go, he just sort of knew. He reached the door, and pushed it open, wincing as it creaked, but carrying on anyway.

"James?" He called.