Shattered Masks, Unbroken Vows - Jegulus

Chapter 9

The room was quiet, but not peaceful. The stillness of the Order's house felt suffocating, like a silence that was waiting to be broken. After showering and changing into fresh clothes, Barty and Evan sat on their respective beds, eyes flicking to Regulus, who had settled onto his own. There was something fragile in the air, as if they were all walking on broken glass, not knowing where to step or how to begin.

Regulus leaned back, his wet hair clinging to his skin as he tried to relax, but he felt too tense. His entire body ached, both from the ordeal of the last few years and from the venom that had nearly killed him. Scars ran up his arms, over his chest—reminders of what he had survived. His thoughts were scattered, and though he was trying to keep his distance emotionally, part of him felt something shift, like the unspoken tension between him and the two boys he had once called friends was about to come crashing down.

It was Evan who broke the silence first, his voice hesitant, unsure. "I still can't believe you're here," he muttered, his eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and guilt. "After all this time... Merlin, Reg, how are you even alive?"

Barty, sitting on the opposite bed, shook his head slowly, staring at Regulus. "We thought you were dead. Everyone did. How the hell did you survive?"

Regulus didn't answer immediately. His expression remained unreadable as he looked at the floor, as if avoiding their gaze. He could feel their questions weighing heavily in the room, but he wasn't ready to share everything. Not yet. He wasn't even sure if he could explain it all. The isolation, the horror of what he had done, and the fear that had haunted him for so long—it was too much to unpack in one conversation.

"I did what I had to," Regulus finally said, his voice low and tired. "I didn't want anyone to get involved. I kept my distance on purpose."

Barty frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "You kept your distance... from us? Reg, we thought you were gone. We didn't even know where to start looking."

Evan's face softened as he realized what Regulus was implying. "You didn't want us to find you," he murmured. "Because you were afraid we'd... die."

Regulus nodded slowly, still not looking at them. "You would have," he said simply. "I couldn't drag you into this. I made choices, and I wasn't going to let those choices destroy the only people I ever gave a damn about."

There was a long pause as the weight of Regulus's words settled in. Barty looked stricken, guilt written plainly on his face. "We would've helped you," he said quietly. "You didn't have to face it alone."

"You think I didn't know that?" Regulus shot back, finally looking up at them, his voice sharper than he intended. "You think I wanted to do it alone? I had no choice. If I'd told you, if I'd asked for help, you would've been dragged into something worse than death. I couldn't risk that. Not for you."

Evan exhaled softly, his eyes sad. "We didn't even notice you were slipping away. We were so caught up in everything—the cause, the war, our own stupid loyalties. We didn't see how much you were struggling."

Barty's voice was thick with emotion as he spoke next. "You disappeared, Reg, and it tore us apart. We didn't know where you went, didn't know if you were alive or if..." He swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on the floor. "We should've been there for you. We should've known."

Regulus shook his head, his voice softer now, almost resigned. "You couldn't have known. I didn't want you to."

Evan and Barty exchanged a glance, both of them clearly torn between their relief at seeing him alive and the guilt that weighed them down. They had been best friends once, closer than anyone, and now there was a chasm between them that none of them knew how to bridge.