PART I JAMES
Regulus is just staring at him, eyes wide, something complicated twisting up his face that James can't quite interpret.
"Reg?" he asks cautiously.
But Regulus doesn't respond, at least not right away, his body rigid at James's side. Eventually he manages to force his expression into something vaguely blank, which James knows is a bad sign.
"Sirius knows about us," he repeats robotically. "Does he know because you told him?" there is something brittle about his voice.
James wants to say no, that he would never betray Regulus's trust like that, but he's not about to throw Remus under the bus.
"You were missing," is what he says instead. Which Regulus seems to take as an admission of guilt.
"Fuck James," he hisses, before he grips his knees, head dropping down between them. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."
"Hey, it's okay," James says, even though he has absolutely no idea if that's true.
"I can't deal with this right now, I don't even—Fuck—I can't."
"Reg—"
"He'll never forgive me for this," and then he laughs, head still between his knees, breaths coming in and out in wheezing gasps. "No, that's stupid. He was never going to forgive me anyway. But now he'll hate me. Properly hate me—"
"Regulus," James says again, trying and failing to stop his spiralling.
"I don't want to fight with him. I don't want to hurt him. I'm so tired of hurting people."
Who have you hurt? James almost asks before he stops himself. "Regulus you have to breathe okay?" James's hand goes to the back of Regulus's neck, squeezing just enough that he can feel it. "No one is fighting anyone," though he isn't sure he can promise that, not knowing Sirius as well as he does.
"What if he never speaks to you again?" Regulus sounds out of breath. "You'll resent me. You'll hate me too—"
"This isn't your fault Reg, I knew what the consequences were," though he can't help the panic that rises up in him at the thought of Sirius cutting him out of his life. "I won't hate you."
"You will. You fucking will," another choked laugh bubbles out of him. "But I guess that doesn't matter either," he's talking to himself, James realizes. "I already made sure you would."
James feels those words like they're hands twisting his gut. "Regulus," he says more sternly, squeezing his neck again, not tight enough to hurt, just enough to anchor him, to keep him grounded in his body instead of his unraveling nightmares. "Breathe. Now. Breathe with me. In and out."
"I—"
"No, no more talking. Just breathe, okay? Open your mouth and inhale."
After a few seconds James hears the sound of breath being slowly taken in.
"Good, that's good. Again, do it with me." And so they breathe together. In, two, three, out, two, three. In, two, three, out two three. Again. And again. And again. Until James feels certain that Regulus isn't about to pass out. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to Regulus's temple.
"You need to trust me."
He feels Regulus sag against him. "That isn't the problem."
"Then what is?"
Reg doesn't speak, and after several minutes James gives up waiting, letting out a heavy sigh. "Reg," he says softly, "keeping things from me? Things you think I can't handle? That's not trust."
