Bleed Black

A/N: Well…yeah. Hi. I got bored, decided to write this story. It’s about the lovely Black brothers, set a year before Sirius was sent to Azkaban and Regulus was killed. It might turn into an Alternate Universe. Then again it might not. I do know, however, that it will be NC-17 in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights belong to J.K Rowling. I’m only doing this to pass the time away and see if I still suck as badly at writing as I think I do.

1979

Someone was knocking.

And he didn’t give a damn. Perhaps he should have been more on guard. These were dangerous times, after all. The war was in full swing. Everyone was in danger – men, women, children, babies; witches and wizards, even the muggles. All of it seemed very far away, though, with a string of drool running from the corner of his mouth and a buildup of gunk making it hard to open his eyes.

Knock, knock.

Like a joke. Knock, knock. Who’s there? He didn’t care.

Rolling over, he grabbed at an overstuffed pillow, used it to cover his head. That muffled the sound a bit but it also cut off oxygen. He found himself moving it aside a moment later in order to get a breath of air. He could smell smoke – Remus had been by the flat the other night. And wherever his mate went, the smell usually followed. He had picked up smoking – what were they called? It was a muggle thing. Sirius couldn’t be bothered to think of the name. Ah, well. He had picked up smoking death sticks…much to his and James’s amusement…Lily’s horror.

Times are dangerous enough already, Remus! Do you want to die? He remembered Lily squawking when she first caught straight-laced Lupin at it. Well, at least he had the good sense to look ashamed of himself. There was no point arguing with the woman. Especially since half of the time she was right.

Knock, knock, knock!

He might have stayed in bed…if his thoughts hadn’t drifted to James, Remus, and Lily. What if it was one of them at the door? Well. It wasn’t likely to be James or Lily. They had just gone into hiding and weren’t likely to come out anytime soon. But it could be Remus, or another member of the Order.

Sirius surrendered. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he crawled out of bed. Standing there, barefoot and bare-chested, he marveled at how cold the air was. The little hairs on his arms and neck stood on end.

Grunting and grumbling, he ignored the next volley of knocks completely, and padded over to the chest of drawers instead. He grabbed up a sweater and pulled it on.

He considered going for the sock drawer next, but a few more knocks changed his mind. Again he wondered if it was someone from the Order. For the first time, a trickle of fear managed to reach him through the haze of drowsiness.

He hurried out of the bedroom. From there, he navigated his way down the hallway – in the semi darkness, he still managed to avoid the umbrella stand, a feat he didn’t have time to feel proud of (what time was it anyway? 4 am? 5 am? The sun wasn’t up, who the hell would come calling so early?). Sirius reached the front door. He seized the handle and yanked it open just in time, because the person on the other side had been about to knock again if the raised fist was any indication.

Regulus Black stood out on the landing. His face was pale, his meticulously groomed hair, unkempt. The self-satisfied expression he regularly wore in the presence of someone he considered to be his subordinate was absent.

Not that Sirius noticed any of it. He was ready to slam the door in his face the moment he saw who it was.

Seeing that, Regulus managed to get his foot in.

“Wait a minute.”

Sirius fixed him with a glare. He stepped back.

Regulus faltered. He pushed the door open another inch or so, but didn’t step over the threshold, as though expecting he might be ambushed if he did.

“Well, you’ve got my attention. Come in.” he said gruffly.

Regulus complied with his older brother’s words, stepping into the entry way, glancing around.

And the silence that followed compliance, Sirius did notice, because it never happened. There was always some sort of a retort, a scathing remark…he looked the younger male over.

“Close the door. It’s cold enough as is.” He ordered, just for the hell of it.

The door got closed. Nothing was said. Sirius’s eyes narrowed. It didn’t bode well.

They both stood there in silence. Older brother and younger brother, one looking mad as hell and feeling as though he was just hit by a train, the other looking like he was simply in the path of that train, stuck on the tracks, soon to be hit.

“I...was wondering if I could stay with you.”

Sirius blinked.

“Sorry, frog in your throat? I didn’t catch that.”

“I was wondering if I could stay with you…Sirius.” Regulus said, louder. He looked like he might be sick.

With good reason, Sirius figured. They had never been close, but he knew how the youngest Black worked. He had been a pampered little prince since the day he was born. There was nothing he couldn’t do, couldn’t have. Everyone was willing to bend over backwards for him, except for Sirius.

He was aware of that. That was why he steered clear…usually.

It had to be one hell of an emergency if Regulus was willing to degrade himself by crawling to a brother who didn’t even have the good sense to worship him for the God he was.

He tossed his head back and gave one of his bark-like laughs. “You’re having me on, aren’t you?” he demanded, taking a step forward.

Regulus didn’t retreat – couldn’t. The front door was at his back. His brother stood before him. It was clear he would rather be in the apartment, facing Sirius, than out there.

Now the question was…why?

“I’m not having you on.” His voice had a flat, almost robotic sound to it. The only thing that betrayed any emotion were his eyes. As dark as Sirius’s, they glittered with distaste – and desperation. He was at the end of his rope. “It’ll only be for a few days, a week at the most. I just need some time.”

“You have time at Mum and Dad’s, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Bellatrix’s? I’m not sure her husband would be thrilled, but I know Bellatrix would love to see you. Is it true you’re fucking her?”

“No!” Regulus said, a bit too loudly, a bit too quickly. His face had gone hot, with anger or embarrassment, hard to tell.

“Tsk. Rodolphus would castrate you if he knew, Reg. But I guess he’s too busy killing innocents to notice his new wife is having an affair with her own cousin.”

“Shut UP!” Regulus snarled, surging forward.

Sirius caught him by the wrists and forced him back, using his body weight to pin him to the door.

“What?! What the hell did you plan to do just then? I thought you were asking to stay. I thought you needed help, time to think. Tell me, what is it the little prince has to think so goddamn hard about?”

“I’ve changed my mind.” Regulus hissed, straining to break free of the iron grip being applied to his wrists.

“No you haven’t.” he scoffed. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was enjoying this. It made waking up before the crack of dawn almost worth it, to see Regulus in such a sorry state after years and years and years of being considered second-rate next to him – of almost letting himself think he was, before James Potter came along and opened his eyes and the Marauders were born.

“You haven’t. You can’t change your mind. Because once you’re in there’s no going back, right?” Sirius pressed on. He felt his brother stiffen in his hold, and grinned. “Hit the nail on the head, didn’t I.”

Their eyes met.

“I need your help.” Regulus said, changing tact at top speed. “Please.”

Sirius released one of Regulus’s wrists. With the now free hand, he pulled the sleeve of his robes up. Turning his arm over, he saw, clearly imprinted upon his brother’s pale flesh, the Dark Mark.

“What have you gotten yourself into?” Sirius muttered, letting go of his arm quickly, as though burned. He suspected that was what he would find…but suspecting and knowing were two different things. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Regulus?”

“Please. You’ve got to understand, Sirius. Mum and Dad were always raving about how right the Dark Lord was. They didn’t say anything directly but I…I knew they wanted me to join up. I …didn’t know what that would mean, though - ” Regulus lowered his head. Perhaps to hide the fact that, despite the fact that his words oozed with remorse, his eyes still burned with defiance for Sirius. He was putting himself on the spot and it was almost more than he could take.

But Sirius wasn’t fooled.

Regulus was honest about wanting out, but it wasn’t because of the lives he had seen taken. He wanted out because he was afraid for himself.

Sirius gritted his teeth, disgusted by the whole display. He took a step back. “Do what you want.” He said, gruffly.

“I can stay?” Regulus asked incredulously. He had probably thought he would have to do a lot more mooching than that.

“Do what you want!” he barked, turning his back on him.

The fun of the situation was gone. All that was left was the sour taste of morning breath. Sirius hated him, he realized. Hated his own little brother for being so damn gullible, for thinking he was just as gullible. Over and over a strange picture played in his mind. A 5-year-old Regulus, kneeling before the Dark Lord, his forearm presented, ready to receive the mark. His stomach churned.

He was a lost cause. The drunken uncle no one wanted to mention at reunions.

Still, Regulus was his brother. He could hate him but he couldn’t ignore the pull of having to defend one of your own.

A while later, as he sat on his bed, it hit him that, for once in his life, he had surrendered and bowed down to Prince Regulus.

A/N: Comment? You don’t have to, but it would be nice to know if anyone is a fan of the pairing. No flames please.