Crimson Rivers

Chapter 32

Evan, mid-lecture about the benefits of climbing, abruptly stops to say, instead, "Wakey-wakey, Regulus."

"What?" Regulus asks, blinking at him.

"Fuck's sake," Evan grumbles, scowling. "He interrupts me every time. He's so fucking annoying, you know."

Regulus stares at him in confusion. "Who?"

"Come on, wake up," Evan insists, rolling his eyes, and Regulus opens his mouth to ask what the fuck is wrong with him when the tree branch snaps, making him jolt, and then his eyes split open as the whole world swirls into focus.

There's a body next to him, warm and solid. Disoriented, the first thing Regulus rasps is, "James?"

"No, still not him," Barty says, coming into view as he props up and leans over to peer down at him, eyebrows raised. He looks faintly amused. "After all these months, you'd think you would stop asking by now."

"Fuck off," Regulus mutters, reaching up to knuckle at his eyes as he shudders through a yawn.

"You were jabbering on about Evan again," Barty informs him.

"He finds you very irritating, you know," Regulus says as he drops his hands, lips twitching slightly. "I think it pisses him off that you interrupt us."

"Lovely. Genuinely, nothing pleases me more than being a thorn in the side of the hot ghost that lives in your dreams."

"Well, he dies, usually, but you keep interrupting."

Barty hums. "In that case, he should be thanking me. Anyway, you get particularly chatty before you start screaming your head off, so I know now to wake you up before then."

"Right," Regulus sighs out, pushing up on his elbows and shifting to sit on the side of his bed, rolling his shoulders. "Time for me to get up, I suppose. You, too."

"No bath?" Barty asks quietly.

Regulus shakes his head a little stiffly. "Not now. Later today, after I've gone out."

"Bad day?" Barty murmurs.

"It's fine," is all Regulus says. "I'm going to brush my teeth. You can see yourself out."

"Ah, Regulus, your chivalry knows no bounds," Barty replies dryly, but he's still amused. "I do so love when you demand I come lay beside you through the night, mistake me for another man the next morning, and then immediately kick me out afterwards. Truly, you know how to make a man feel special."

"Glad to be of service," Regulus quips back as he pushes to his feet. "Now, get out."

"Prick," Barty calls after him.

"Bitch," Regulus responds, then heads right across the hall to enter his bathroom and shut the door.

For a long moment, Regulus just stands there and breathes, flexing his fingers, and then, with a sigh, he turns on the tap and grabs his toothbrush.

His eyes crawl over to the bathtub, scowling automatically as soon as he looks at it. As extravagant as it is, he fucking hates it. Even after months, bathing is still the bane of his existence. He does it; what's a long, grueling process that always leaves a puddle of water on the floor and makes him feel like he's failing as a human being, but he does it. He is clean, by the end, and that's all that matters.

He doesn't always bathe alone, which helps on the really bad days. Well, no, he always bathes alone. He'll never be able to bathe with another person in the tub with him, where they can touch him, where he can feel their fingers on his skin. But someone will be there when he needs them. Barty usually sits on the toilet and chatters away, not bothered by his nudity and fully unafraid to make lewd, teasing comments even when Regulus is crying, which Regulus honestly appreciates. Sirius, for obvious reasons, doesn't come into the bathroom when Regulus is bathing, but he'll sit outside the door-much like Remus did-and talk to him the entire time, no questions asked.