Chapter Text
Sirius POV
He always liked poetry. Sirius remembered that as well as he remembered his face. Well, he supposed that over time, he might forget that too. He couldn't know for sure. They had no pictures together; not any that he had kept anyway. Now, he was all alone.
They had parants, obviously. He had come to the obvious conclusion that everyone does. It doesn't matter if they're dead, or alive, or split, or just terrible. Everyone still has parants. Theirs just turned out to be batshit crazy. Sirius managed to leave at sixteen. He had managed to himself emancipated, which was unsurprisingly easy: he had always been the black sheep, the embarrassment. He got disowned in the process, but hell, he was happy about it if anything. But regulus... no. Regulus stayed. Either he didn't want to leave, he was too afraid, too attached, sirius didn't know. He supposed that he would never know, now.
Regulus had drowned himself last summer.
In that stupid cave by the docs.
He was never coming back.
And it was all sirius's fault.
Although it was mid-autumn -October, specifically- nobody had told sirius this. He never knew, he didn't know. Well, he assumed that there was no way for him to know. Anyway, why bother telling him that his brother had just died? He had been disowned. Well, that would mean that he wasn't his brother anymore. Just a stranger that he shared his blood with. But it still hurt all the same.
He never would have expected anything. After sirius had left home, the two started drifting away, their relationship strained. Not slowly, but rather abruptly. He assumed that regulus had hated him for abandoning him. Sirius guessed that he was right for that, to some extent.
But that was all that he could do now anyway: assume. He would never be able to ask him, not now. Not anymore. Sirius black was alone again.
The ratty box only came yesterday. It was botched up and torn, and it had arrived by royal mail. How they got his address, he had no idea, but there was no return address for it. It came with a very formal looking letter from his parants. Well, if you could even call it that. It was just a sentence or two in truth, bluntly explaining that regulus had died. He wasn't coming back. They didn't even tell him where his grave was. If he bad been buried... cremated... nothing. It just stated that he had drowned, and that was that. Simple. Easy. Done.
The box on the other hand, was by far much, much less simple, let alone easy. Regulus had always been sentimental at heart, even if he didn't usually show it. He had always truthfully just been a big softy, even if hardened on the outside. Like a black cat. On the outside, sure, he had come across as cold. But the inside... no, the inside, the regulus which sirius had known and grown up with, was sweet. and sentimental. But now, opening the box, sirius felt that he was probably a bit too sentimental.
A video-camrea. Printed photographs. A scruffy old notebook. A Teddy bear. And a small bag of liquorice.
That was all that he had. Sirius had been given these batty and old possessions. They had to have been worth about five pounds all together, at a push. So why did they feel like they could buy the world? Well, his world at least.
Number one: The video camera. He didn't want to open that. Not yet, anyway.
Number two: The printed photographs. Young pictures of himself and regulus stareing back at him. The age range between the photos had to have been wide. From when they were children, up to the year before sirius had left, he presumed. Others were with some of regulus's friends. Sirius only knew them briefly, and not very well. Evan rosier and Barty Crouch Jr. Regulus probably did have other friends, sirius could assume again, but those two had to have been his main two. He wondered if they knew that he was gone. That it was Sirius's fault. That regulus was never coming back... anyway. So now he had pictures which they shared. Good. He wouldn't forget his face.
Number three: a scruffy old notebook. Sirius recognised this well, it was the book that regulus had always hidden from him. He found it not too long after his fourteenth birthday, and had quite promptly forgotten about it until now. Some of the pages were half falling out, others yellowing, some were partly ripped up. Still though, it was unmistakably reggies.
Number four: A Teddy bear. Sirius's Teddy bear. Regulus had kept it. He didn't know how to feel about that revelation. He tucked that thought to one side for now.
Number five: liquorice. Sirius hadn't the faintest clue why this was here: regulus hated liquorice.
He couldn't bring himself to open that stupid video camera. Regulus took it everywhere with him, the sappy idiot. He seemed so cold, so distant, so quiet to anyone else. Not sirius. He knows his brother. Well, knew. He knew his brother.
Opening the battered old book felt wrong, like an invasion of his privacy, even if regulus had for some reason decided to leave it to him. He wondered if he had written a will of any sort. But he guessed that there was no such thing as privacy anymore. No more privacy for dear reggie. Everything was out. He wondered what his parants had done with his bedroom... probably thrown away his things. Maybe given them to a relitive? Who knows, anymore. Their- nope- his parants were never sentimental. He somtimes wondered if they knew what feelings were. Genuinely. The positive ones, at least. He wondered how regulus had held up with them without sirius to stick up for him... nope. He pushed that thought back down again.
But still, opening the book was tempting. And for some reason easier than the camera. Also, whats one last wind-up for his little brother? Regulus would never let him anywhere near the ruined thing. So, why not open it? There was no harm done by it to anyone, except possibly himself. At least not anymore.
He opened the book.
Blank.
The first page was blank. At first sight, at least. He wondered why. He turned the first page, and looked at the second page.
It was written in a very fancy cursive font, in the centre of the page, presumably in fountain pen. It was dark, black ink. And it had a few blobs around the corners and sides of the pages. The pen had probably leaked at some point. Regulus always had the fanciest handwriting out of the two. Their parants always said that it was a good trait for a surgeon or solicitor to have. He couldnt ever imagine regulus as either of the two.
"Property of R.A.B. If found, please return immediately. Thank you. Regards,
-Regulus Arcturus Black."
Alright, then. This hadn't been so bad, so far. Could've been worse. He could get through this, right?
Nope. No way that he could. If he needed a stupid mental pep talk to himself for just the first page? No. He'll come back to this another day.
And with that, sirius closed the lid to the box, the items stacked inside a bit more neatly now, and carefully tucked it under his slightly ripped up sofa that he was sat on. His appartment was nothing special, one bed, a few rooms. But he lived alone, so he didn't need anything else. And at least that way the box would be safe there, as well as out of sight.
Out of sight, out of mind.