unspeakable | jegulus

your loneliness says that you've sinned

chapter title: sisters of mercy by leonard cohen ("yes you who must leave everything that you cannot control / it begins with your family, but soon it comes round to your soul")

content warning:
sexual content

He jolted upright. Fear constricted his lungs like he was breathing with paper bags in his chest instead of the proper machinery. He was sweating through the sheets. James blinked tears from his eyes and scrubbed at them uselessly. No sense trying to sleep again now. When he looked up at the still dorm room, awash with tepid winter sunlight, his eyes blurred with tears that weren't from his bad dreams.

When had life lost the easy tranquility he didn't even realize he'd had? Why was everything so terrible, and difficult, and cruel? Regulus. He wanted to hate him but he couldn't. There was so much about him that was bad, so many obvious things, impossible to miss or excuse, but there was something else. He didn't have evidence for it, but he felt there was something good in his core. Everything dark about him felt like barbs on iron armour protecting a heart as soft as his silken hair, his skin. Maybe James was falling into some kind of trap. Maybe it was useless to try to find good in a boy like Regulus. But if he was capable of doing morally questionable things, who could say Regulus wasn't capable of goodness?

He had to talk to him.

He had to see how he felt after what he'd done to Barty.

It was the last day before winter break. James stood, and stretched. He cringed at the sight of all the dried blood under his fingernails. The cut on his arm had already scabbed over, not before staining his sheets with drops of dirty looking reddish brown. James showered as quickly as he could, lingering for a few minutes under the scalding hot water once he was clean, trying to wash all of yesterday away with the dirt and sweat. He wiped steam off of the bathroom mirror and poked at the cut on his lip. He was getting used to being battered. At least it made him look tough. He brushed his teeth and hastily brushed his wet hair. Even with the cut on his lip he thought he was finally starting to look more like himself again. He smiled at his reflection even though he wasn't particularly happy.

"You can do this." He felt an inexplicable stab of grief in his chest when he met his own eyes in the mirror. He watched his face blur. Did he really still look like himself? His smile turned upside down. It was a bit grotesque that the dimples in his cheeks showed when he smiled but also when he cried. James tried to swallow his tears. "You can do this," he repeated, firmly, and hit his own chest, listening to the hollow sound of his fist knocking on his ribcage like he was knocking on the door to a house. "You know who you are. You're still you." Why didn't he believe it? He poked his finger at his chest in the mirror. "James." He felt stupid. He felt like he was an imposter posing as himself. He poked his finger at his chest, his skin. "James." His face twisted, eyebrows furrowing, mouth pulled into an unnatural looking frown. "It won't be like this forever. You changed before, you'll change again, and life will go on, even though it'll be different. There's good in this now." He could see in his own expression a recognition of the lie. He stared guiltily into his face. "I love you," he whispered to himself. "I promise I'll start acting like it soon."

No classes today. James wrapped himself in a towel and went to change, muttering curses to himself when he remembered his blood-locked trunk. He shoved Regulus' cloak onto his unmade bed and took his wand out of his bedside table. "Diffindo." Casually, another shallow cut opened on his arm, right beside his scab from the day before. Blood magic was more expensive than the other magicks James knew. He stuck his middle finger in the cut, wincing, then drew the rune Regulus had shown him. "Recludo." Another ugly looking burst of magic from his hands and his eyes, a dark red absence of light. James could taste it in his mouth, like dirt after rain and the smell of rust. He shuddered. He resisted the urge to retch. If this was a spell he was willing to share, what the hell was Regulus keeping from him? James absently sucked his blood off of his fingertip to get the taste of dark magic out of his mouth.