Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One day was all it took for Regulus’ world to come crumbling down.

Not that it had been particularly stable, anyway—from the outset, he was walking on shaky legs, trembling at the world around him like a newborn fawn. That changed a bit when his brother left. He felt his absence like a phantom limb, and his trembling legs didn’t tremble anymore only because they’d already given way.

This, though? This was something else entirely. No, actually, this was fucking insane, because what do you mean gods exist and monsters exist and one is trying to eat him?

What do you mean that one of the only tolerable people at Umbridge Academy was actually part goat?

Regulus shook his head. Nothing about today made sense, and it wasn’t even afternoon yet.

“Less head shaking, more running, Regulus!” Benjy yelled, grabbing hold of one of Regulus’ hands and taking him along. His hooves pattered loudly on the tile as they sprinted through the hallways.

Regulus stared at them for a second, watching the way they hit the floor, the way the fur disappeared into the charred rips of Benjy’s jeans.

Nope, still real.

Part of Regulus hoped he’d trip, hit his head, and then wake up to the revelation that this whole thing had been one wild dream. Or maybe he could skip the waking up part altogether. That sounded even better.

Actually, now that he was thinking about it…how much did it hurt to get eaten by a monster, he wondered? When compared to his Mother’s punishments, where on the pain scale did it fall?

He glanced behind for a moment, then back at Benjy—at his panicked face, fast breathing, and palpable fear and desperation.

No, he couldn’t do that to him. Benjy had been one of the only tolerable things about Umbridge Academy, and there was no way he was going to traumatize the guy—goat?—as repayment for that.

He sighed, although it came out as more of a wheeze—he wasn’t exactly in the best shape, okay? Metaphorical absence of legs and all, remember? Sue him if he didn’t do a lot of cardio when he was locked up in his room all day.

But he pushed through. This was life or death, here, and since he’d just decided to live, it’d be kind of shit to do the exact opposite, running be damned.

Just then, Benjy yanked him to one side, nearly dislocating Regulus' shoulder in the process as he pulled them into an empty classroom.

“Help me block the door!” Benjy yelled, although it wasn’t nearly as loud as it could have been had he been able to breath properly.

He then grabbed two desks, piling them by the door and propping one of the seats so it was tucked just below the door handle. Regulus hurried to help him, pushing the teacher’s desk over with more strength than he knew he had in him.

Well, he supposed, adrenaline was a hell of a drug.

“That won’t hold them for long,” Benjy said lowly, stepping away from their makeshift barricade. “We need to find a way out.”

Regulus stared at him incredulously. “We literally just blocked our only way out, genius!”

Benjy gave him an almost disappointed look, and Regulus briefly considered strangling him right then and there. “That’s not the only exit, Regulus.”

He then moved towards the windows, and Regulus trailed after him, apprehension growing in his gut.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Regulus said in disbelief. “Benjy, that’s a three story drop! Are you insane? We’ll break our legs!”

This did not seem to deter Benjy. If anything, he looked more assured. This, in turn, was far from reassuring for Regulus.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

Benjy didn’t answer—he simply slid the fire window open, popping the screen out. Regulus watched as it fell onto the grass below.

Benjy then turned back to look at him, pulling his backpack over one shoulder, digging around in one of the pockets until he pulled out a beat up Converse shoe. “Here, put this on,” he said, holding the shoe out for Regulus to take.

Regulus did take it, but only because they were both about to die, so he figured he’d humor him in their last few moments.

“It’ll slow down your landing—you won’t die,” Benjy explained. “Most you’ll get is a couple scrapes and bruises when you hit the ground.”

Regulus stared at him. Looked down at the old shoe in his hand—the laces were fraying at the ends. Looked back up at Benjy. “This is a shoe,” he said flatly.

Benjy rolled his eyes. “It’s a magic shoe, dumbass. Put it on!”

Regulus stared at the shoe doubtfully, holding it as if it might come to life at any moment and bite his fingers off. For all he knew, it might—or it might just be an ordinary shoe, and he was about to crack his head open when he fell to his death.

From the hallway, the sound of thundering footsteps increased, and Regulus could practically feel the floor shake as the giants got closer. Distantly, he could hear them going on about tasty blood and whatnot, but he was too busy exchanging shoes to think too much about it.

“Put this in your bag,” Regulus said, holding out his own shoe.

Benjy dismissed him, bending down to put the other old converse shoe on his own foot. His had a styrofoam insert of some kind to accommodate for his hoof. “Just leave it, Regulus, it’s fine.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “Put it in your bag, Benjy,” he said again. “It’s a good fucking shoe, i’m not leaving it behind.”

Benjy rolled his eyes as he stood up, but he obliged, taking the offered shoe and zipping it into his bag. “Better?”

Regulus gave a fake smile. “Much, thanks.”

Benjy rolled his eyes again. “Great,” he said. “Now jump out the window.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“That’s what the shoe’s for, Regulus, you’ll be fine.”

“It’s a fucking shoe!”

Benjy let out a frustrated snort. “Just jump, you asshole, or I’ll push you!”

“You first!” Regulus shouted back.

That was his first mistake, he thought, as the giants drew nearer. They must have heard him.

Fuck.

Benjy shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, putting one foot up on the windowsill. “But I better see you down there, alive. I’ll be in so much trouble if you die under my watch.”

“Good to know where your priorities lie, then,” Regulus snapped pettily.

“Oh, don’t be an ass,” Benjy said. “And also, don’t die.”

He pulled his other leg up so he was sitting fully in the open window. “When you jump, make sure to yell ‘maia!’”

He demonstrated.

Then, he jumped.

Regulus ran to the window just in time to see little wings sprout from the old Converse as Benjy clumsily, but slowly, crashed to the ground. He tripped over his feet when he landed, falling flat on his face, but he wasn’t dead, and nothing seemed to be broken, which seemed like a point in the shoe’s favor.

Behind him, the door began to shake as the giants rammed against it. Shit. They were huge, strong, and persistent enough that that barricade wouldn’t hold them for long.

There was nothing else for it.

Regulus scrambled onto the windowsill, feeling his gut clench as he looked below. Benjy was back on his feet now, gesturing for him to hurry up.

Regulus glanced back at the door, then back at the ground below.

He’d never been particularly afraid of heights, but he was more than a bit freaked out at the moment. Given that his only options were ‘get eaten by a giant’ or ‘put your life in the hands of a beat up flying shoe,’ he thought that was pretty understandable.

“Hurry up!” Benjy yelled up at him.

Jesus Christ. What had he done for this to be his life?

Taking a deep breath, he yelled, “Maia!” before throwing himself out of the window.

For a brief, terrifying moment, he worried it hadn’t worked—that his shoe was broken, or Benjy had lied to him, or any number of things that would lead to him splitting his head open within the next few seconds.

But then, he felt the resistance at one of his ankles, and his fall began to slow a bit. When he did hit the ground, it was hard enough to leave bruises, but he was still very much alive.

All thanks to a magic fucking shoe.

“Hurry, we have to leave before they catch up to us,” Benjy urged, reaching over to help him up. “Or before something else comes along as backup.”

Regulus rose to his feet, only to be immediately dragged off by Benjy.

“Backup?” Regulus repeated, incredulous. They were fucking man-eating giants! They didn’t need backup!

And he certainly didn’t want to think of what sort of things would be willing or able to provide it.

Regulus wasn’t sure whether or not to be grateful when Benjy didn’t answer him, simply continuing to drag him along as they ran off into the woods.

Regulus didn’t know how long they ran for, but it was long enough that, when they stopped, he clung onto a tree, leaned over, and vomited up what little he’d eaten for breakfast.

Lungs heaving, he slid down against the trunk of the tree until he was sitting at its base.

“We should be good to rest for a little bit,” Benjy panted, bending over to put his hands on his knees. “Crossing that stream should’ve helped put them off our scent for a little while, at least.”

“Great,” Regulus wheezed. “So are you going to explain what the fuck just happened now?”

Benjy collapsed in front of him, crossing his shaggy lags into a classic criss cross applesauce position. He studied Regulus for a moment, but Regulus was too busy fighting for breath to care.

“You’re a demi-god,” Benjy finally said, with absolutely zero preamble.

Regulus briefly stopped breathing to fix him with an annoyed look.

Benjy didn’t say anything else. There was no “ha-ha! Just kidding!”

Regulus laughed derisively, suddenly hit with a wave of anger, and maybe hurt. “Come on, you can do better than that,” he said. “You’ve been lying to me all year, haven’t you? What’s one more, huh? You can lie about being human, about being my friend, but add in a couple crazy cannibals, and suddenly you suck at it?”

Benny’s expression softened a bit. “I didn't lie about being your friend,” he said, and Regulus scoffed. “That’s not all I am, of course—I’m a satyr, and I was assigned to protect you, to watch over you until I could safely bring you to camp. But you are my friend.”

Regulus looked away from him, the sincerity in his eyes a bit too much to bear.

Fine. He’d bite. “What camp, then? Are you kidnapping me or something? Is this, like, a cult situation?”

Benjy rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not a cult.” He frowned. “Well, not really anyway.”

“Wow,” Regulus said, voice dripping in sarcasm. “That is so reassuring.”

“Shut up!” Benjy huffed, although his expression read more amused than anything. “I’m trying to explain this to you.”

“And you’re doing a bang-up job of it.”

Benjy scowled. “I’d do far better if you’d actually let me talk, asshole.”

Regulus gave a mocking bow—or, at least, an imitation of one. It’s kind of hard to bow when you’re sitting slumped against a tree. “You have the floor.”

Benjy glared at him. “Like I was saying earlier,” he said, emphasizing the words, “you’re a demi-god. No, I’m being serious! One of your parents is a god, and that’s why the monsters came after you! They can smell that you’re not fully human.”

Regulus scoffed. “I’m sure Walburga and Orion would be flattered to know you think so highly of them, but I assure you, there’s nothing divine about them.” If anything, they were more like the monsters of the story. “And I shower regularly, by the way!”

Benjy let out a frustrated groan, rubbing at his temples. “No, you idiot! Walburga and Orion aren’t gods, obviously. But one of your parents was.”

Regulus stared at him. Surely he could see the problem with that statement.

“I don’t know which one is actually your biological parent, or if either of them is, but either way, one of your parents was a god. A Greek god.”

Okay, Regulus was really starting to worry for Benny’s sanity now.

“And you don’t literally stink,” Benjy continued, unaware. “Not in the sweaty or dirty sort of way. It’s more like they can tell what you are by your smell, and what they smell, they want to eat.”

“Glad to know I smell edible, then.”

Benjy rolled his eyes again. He was doing that a lot lately, Regulus noticed. “You smell very, very edible to them, yes. Which means that, as long as there are monsters, you’ll always be in danger.”

Great. Just great. A lifetime being chased down by man-eating giants. Just what he needed.

“So, what, I have to live the rest of my life here? In the woods? My options are to become a hermit, or to get eaten by a monster?”

“No, that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Benjy said, exasperated. “There’s a camp, south of here. A safe place for other demi-gods. It’s protected against monsters, so they can’t attack you while you’re there.”

“And while I’m not there?”

Benjy just shrugged.

Right. Well, then. It was camp or die.

“I can’t just pack up and head south, Benjy,” Regulus said frustratedly. “Mother and Father would never allow it.”

Benjy winced. “Tell them after you get there?”

Regulus leveled him with a flat look. Yeah, because that would go over well.

He frowned. “If I’m so tasty-smelling, then why the hell haven’t I been attacked before?”

Benny’s brow crinkled in thought. “Maybe because your parents are such horrible people? Maybe because you never leave the house except for when you’re away at school?”

If being with his parents was the price he had to pay to live a monster-free life, then…well, maybe the man-eating giants weren’t so bad. They hadn’t exactly reacted well to diplomacy or negotiation back at the school, but maybe if Regulus brought a gift? He was sure no one would miss Thomas from Biology. Besides, the kid was a waste of space to be honest—he’d be much more tolerable as a giant snack.

“The camp,” Regulus said, interrupting that train of thought. “Is that where you’re trying to take me now?”

“Yeah.”

“What happens once I get there?”

Benjy frowned. “You just…stay, I guess. At least for the summer.”

“So you’re basically asking me to trade one prison for another.”

Benjy’s expression soured at that. “It’s not a prison, Regulus. It’s a home to demigods and satyrs and so many others—it’s a safe haven. The only safe place many of us have ever known.”

A cage to keep the monsters out was still always going to be a cage. But Regulus kept that thought to himself.

“How far away is it, then?” he asked instead.

Benjy perked up a bit at that. “You’ll come?”

Did he have a choice at this point? “No, that depends on how far away it is.”

Benjy considered that for a moment. “If we take the train, we would probably get there in seven hours.”

Great.

“If we take the Gray Sisters’ Taxi, though, we’ll be there much sooner.”

“How much sooner?”

Benjy shrugged. “Maybe half an hour? I’m not entirely sure. I’ve only ridden with them once.”

He looked a little green at the thought, too. But if it cut six and a half hours off of their travel time and reduced the period of possible exposure to monsters, Regulus was willing to risk a bit of car sickness.

“Alright, let’s do that, then,” he decided.

Benjy looked at him in surprise, something hopeful written on his face. “You really will come, then?”

Regulus shrugged. “Might as well. If I don’t like it, I’ll just leave.”

That probably wasn’t likely, he thought. True, his self-preservation instincts maybe weren’t that great, but he wasn’t an idiot, nor was he a masochist. Unless the stupid camp was worse than Grimmauld Place, he’d likely be staying there for the foreseeable future.

He sighed. “Alright, we should probably get going now, though, right? I don’t know where the road is, and I haven’t got a phone to look for a taxi, so—“

Benjy wasn’t listening. Instead, he began to dig around in his backpack once more, pulling out a Ziploc bag of what looked like fake old pirate money or something.

“What are you doing?” Regulus asked suspiciously, as Benjy stood up with one of the coins in his hand.

“Calling us a taxi,” Benjy grinned at him. He then proceeded to drop the coin to the forest floor, shouting something in a language Regulus had never heard before, and yet was somehow familiar with: “Stêthi, Ô hárma diabolês!”

Well, that…didn’t sound great. The sound that followed after didn’t sound great, either.

A violent screeching noise, like metal being torn apart, filled the air as a taxi appeared out of nowhere. It hurtled down between trees, zigzagging at impossible angles, tires smoking as it skidded to a stop right in front of them.

The vehicle was a smokey grey, rusted, battered, and dented with broken headlights that flickered ominously and paint peeling off in jagged strips.

That was reassuring, Regulus thought sarcastically.

The entire taxi looked like it was barely holding itself together—a deteriorating thing that seemed more suited to ferry lost souls than living passengers.

“Passage? Passage?” the driver—an old woman with stringy hair and bony hands—asked. She mumbled over the words, as if her mouth was too slow to catch up to the speed at which she was talking.

“Two to Camp Half-Blood, please,” Benjy said, sliding into the back seat. Cautiously, Regulus followed him in.

Thinking back, he understood why Benjy had looked nauseous when recalling his experience with the taxi. It looked like a death trap on the outside, and the inside wasn’t much better. There was a strong smell of mildew and rust, and the seats were ripped, and Regulus tried to avoid the jagged points of springs sticking up through the holes. The entire car seemed to vibrate, as if it was barely keeping itself from falling apart.

In the front, three old women sat crammed together, their faces etched in deep wrinkles.

“Out-of-metro fare bonus! Ha!” one of them croaked excitedly, her voice like gravel under wheels.

“Buckle up,” Benjy said quickly. He grabbed a hold of a black chain next to him and drew it across his chest, taking the appearance of a rudimentary seatbelt.

Regulus looked at it apprehensively—that was more likely to crush his ribcage than anything if they crashed—but copied the motion until he, too, had a sketchy seatbelt on.

No sooner had he fastened the chain than the three women cackled, the sound bouncing off the grimy windows and torn up seats as the taxi suddenly lurched forward, accelerating at a near impossible speed.

Regulus clutched the edge of his seat, his heart pounding and his stomach in this throat as he watched the trees whip past, the taxi zigzagging through the forest with no regard for physics.

Fucking hell. Each twist and turn felt like they were narrowly escaping certain death, the vehicle skimming dangerously close to trunks and branches that seemed to reach out for them. Regulus jaw snapped uncomfortably as the car gave a lurch to jump over a stream. Not for the first time, Regulus wondered at what he'd done in his past life to end up in this situation.

Suddenly, the old lady sitting in the middle screeched, “Look out! Go left!”

The car lurched to the left, narrowly avoiding contact with a rather large tree.

Regulus fought to keep his breathing under control. This was insane.

“Well, if you’d give me the eye, Tempest, I could see that,” the lady driving complained.

Give her the eye? What the fuck did that mean?

“Road!” Tempest shrieked. Sure enough, the forest thinned to reveal the rapidly approaching freeway.

“Brake!” the woman on the right screamed.

Instead, Regulus was thrown against Benjy as the driver yanked the wheel to the left, narrowly avoiding a few cars as they joined the freeway traffic, weaving from lane to lane in a continuous series of Jersey drifts.

Regulus could feel his heart beating frantically in his chest, and he briefly wondered if he was about to have a fear-induced heart attack.

He gripped the edges of his seat tighter, trying to take his mind off of the very likely possibility that they were in mortal peril. No time like a near-death experience to make casual conversation, right? “Sorry,” he said, leaning forward a bit, “but can you see?”

“No!” the driver screamed.

“No!” the lady in the passenger seat screamed.

“Of course!” screamed Tempest from the middle.

Regulus blinked, then leaned back in his seat. That...what? He looked over at Benjy, who was looking a bit green. “Are they blind?”

Benjy shook his head, then looked like he immediately regretted the motion. “Not completely,” he managed to reply. “They have an eye.”

“Only one eye?”

“Yeah.”

“Each?” Regulus asked hopefully. But he wasn’t stupid. He knew what the answer would be before Benjy even said it.

“No. One eye total.”

Well that was wonderful. They were going to die.

Benjy seemed to sense Regulus's unease. “They’ve been doing this for centuries,” he muttered, though the reassurance felt half-hearted. “They won’t crash.”

Regulus wasn’t so sure. “They don’t even have two eyes between them.”

Another sharp swerve sent them sliding in their seats, and Regulus clutched the edge again, his breath catching in his throat. Oh, my god.

"Just a little longer," Benjy muttered, his own hands gripping the seat tightly. "They'll get us there fast."

Fast, indeed, Regulus thought grimly as the taxi weaved through cars at a speed that should be impossible. But at what cost? It was a miracle they hadn’t crashed, he thought. But, perhaps “miracle” wasn’t the right word in this world of gods and monsters.

Only days ago, he’d thought he was a relatively normal kid, and now he was hurtling down a freeway in a taxi driven by ancient, half-blind women.

How quickly things could change.

In order to distract himself from the dangerous blur of traffic outside, Regulus focused on the women in front of him, watching with a mixture of horror, disgust, and fascination. One moment, their shared eye was in the socket of the sister in the middle, and the next, it was being held by bony fingers, swiftly placed into the socket of the one on the left.

Regulus fought the urge to close his eyes as the taxi swerved between lanes, barely missing the other cars. He’d always considered himself a curious person, always willing and ready to learn new things, but the jerky movements of the car and the squelching noises of the eyeball combined in a way that made him have to focus most of his attention on not projectile vomiting instead of on the anatomic impossibility occurring in the front seat. 

Regulus let out an undignified yelp when the vehicle jerked sharply to the right, throwing him against the car door and Benjy into his side. The Grey Sisters, however, seemed entirely unfazed, their toothless grins widening with every sharp turn. Tempest, in the middle, held the eye aloft, passing it quickly to the driver who jammed it into her socket with a triumphant cackle.

"See? We're doing just fine!" the driver shrieked, swerving once more, this time narrowly avoiding a semi-truck.

"Fine?" Regulus exclaimed incredulously, his voice strained. "You're driving on sheer luck and a single eyeball!"

Benjy grabbed the chain seatbelt tighter as the taxi rocketed ahead. "It's perfectly safe," he said, though his pale complexion and shaky voice betrayed his own unease.

Regulus glanced at him sideways in disbelief. "Really? Are we even in the same car right now?” Another sharp turn sent them both sliding again, and Regulus swore under his breath. "I should’ve taken my chances on the train."

"Relax, boy," the sister in the passenger seat crooned, her voice raspy but oddly melodic. "We always deliver our passengers in one piece... mostly."

Regulus wasn’t comforted. "Mostly? Oh, well that’s fine, then. Super reassuring."

"Hold on, hold on!" the driver interrupted, her gnarled hands yanking the wheel as they veered off an exit ramp at a speed far higher than the yellow signs recommended. The taxi bumped onto a smaller, winding road lined with thick trees once more.

Benjy breathed a little easier, though he still looked queasy. "We’re getting closer now."

Regulus tried to steady his heartbeat, watching the darkened landscape blur past. "Closer to what? An early grave?"

"No, to Camp Half-Blood," Benjy said, though his voice held a bit of a wry twist. "Though with the way we’re going, I’m not surprised you’d think that."

Regulus shook his head, trying to focus on anything but the insane ride. "So...do they always drive like this?"

Benjy nodded. "Yeah. They like to make an impression."

Regulus scoffed. That was one way of putting it. "Well, they’ve certainly accomplished that."

"We’re almost there," Tempest said, once again in possession of the eye. It fixed on the horizon, the other two sisters leaning in to catch a glimpse.

"Just over this hill," the driver added, her grin widening as Tempest handed her the eye again. "You'll be safe soon enough."

Regulus wasn’t sure he believed that.

Then, without warning, the taxi took a final, bone-rattling lurch, landing with a jarring thud. The taxi slowed down, the screeching brakes echoing through the stillness, and the dense forest around them began to thin as they came to a stop at the base of a hill. 

“We’re here,” one of the sisters rasped, holding the eye in her hand as she peered at them. They all turned to grin, their gnarled faces twisted unsettlingly. For the first time, Regulus was faced head-on with five empty eye sockets. He fought his hardest not to flinch at the sight, though he wasn't sure he was successful. 

Benjy unlatched his makeshift seatbelt with shaky fingers and a sigh of relief, giving Regulus a wan smile. “Told you it was fast.”

Regulus managed a nod, his legs feeling wobbly as he prepared to step out.

He was stopped by the wrinkled hand of the old woman in the passenger seat, her liver-spotted grip vice-like around his wrist. "You have many challenges ahead of you, boy."

Well, that's great, he thought, squirming a bit in an attempt to get her to release him. She didn't budge. 

"Trust your friends," Tempest croaked. "They will not fail you."

What friends? Other than Benjy, Regulus had no friends. The only other person he'd considered a friend since his brother left had moved away months ago, and he hadn't seen her since.

The driver apparently decided to add in her own two cents as well, because she said, "And trust yourself. You cannot afford to fail them."

Well. That sounded cheerful. Thankfully, the woman in the passenger seat apparently decided they were done with him, as she released her grip on him. He rubbed his wrist as he stepped out, shutting the door of the death cab behind him. Almost immediately, it shot off down the road, disappearing in a cloud of smoke. 

"What was that about?" Benjy asked, regarding him curiously with a tinge of worry. 

Regulus shook his head. "I have no fucking clue, mate."

He took a deep breath, looking up at the hill. According to Benjy, Camp Half-Blood lay waiting on the other side. They'd made it here in record time thanks to three insane woman and their likely long-expired license. 

He just hoped it was fucking worth it. 

***

At this point, Regulus was prepared to accept the idea that pigs could fly and hell had frozen over, because what do you mean that Camp Half-Blood’s director was the Greek god of wine, and that his right-hand man was half horse?

He tried his best not to stare, he really did, but it was easier to forget Benjy was half-goat when he was wearing jeans. This guy—Chiron, Benjy had called him—was decidedly not wearing jeans, given that he had the body of a horse with the four legs to match. He had a feeling Chiron was used to newbies staring, though, because he graciously ignored Regulus’ attempts at hiding the fact that he was gawking as they walked through a tour of the camp.

The camp itself was surreal, too. Rows of cabins, each unique in design, formed a horseshoe shape for the demi-god children to live in. Kids of all ages roamed about in bright orange shirts, some practicing archery, or dueling with swords, or crafting armor at a forge (A forge! What kind of camp had a forge?).

It felt like he had stepped back into history instead of into a camp.

Chiron spoke in his steady voice, explaining the different areas of the camp. “Over here, we have the training grounds. You’ll spend a fair amount of time here, learning combat techniques and how to defend yourself against monster attacks.”

Regulus nodded numbly. Right. Because that was a normal thing to say, and training children for combat was a normal thing to do.

Chiron must have seen something in his expression, because he said, “Being a demi-god means you’ll attract them. It’s better to be prepared, to know how to protect yourself.”

Sure, okay. He glanced around at the campers as they shot arrows with practiced ease, landing bullseye after bullseye. He felt a slight pang of anxiety. “And if I’m not…good at this?”

“You will be,” the centaur—centaur!--said firmly, brooking no room for argument. “Everyone starts somewhere, but everyone ends up where they need to be.”

Oookay, then. That was frustratingly cryptic. What if where Regulus needed to be just happened to lie in the jaws of a man-eating giant?

“You’ll find your strengths in time, Regulus,” Chiron continued when that failed to reassure him. “It’s not just about fighting. There are many ways to protect yourself, and many ways to make life at camp worthwhile.”

He went silent for a while, and they stood side-by-side, watching as kids no older than Regulus himself wielded swords against each other as if it were as natural as breathing.

“Ah,” Chiron said after a moment. He waved to an older camper, who jogged over to them, his sandy brown hair bouncing with the movement. When he reached them, Chiron said, “Frank, this is Regulus. He’s new to camp, and unclaimed.”

That last part didn’t mean anything to Regulus, but it apparently did to Frank, because a look of understanding dawned on his face.

“Regulus, this is Frank. He’s the head councilor of the Hermes cabin, where you’ll be staying until your godly parent lays claim to you.”

Regulus studied the boy in front of him. He was tall, lean, and carried himself with a casual sort of confidence. It was likely he’d been in the councilor position for a while, then. He seemed nice enough, his expression open and warm as he studied Regulus in return.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Chiron said. “Frank, if you would show him where he’ll be staying, please.”

Frank nodded. “Of course, Chiron.”

Regulus watched as Chrion walked away, his hooves thudding softly on the grass. He wished Benjy was here, but he’d had to report to his goat elders or something, so he wouldn’t be seeing him for a while.

He sighed, turning back to Frank, who gave him an understanding smile.

“Come on,” Frank said, motioning for Regulus to follow him. “I’ll show you the Hermes cabin.”

Regulus fell into step beside him, continuing to take in the details of the camp. There was an intense rock-climbing wall he’d somehow missed the first time, which moved and spewed lava at the campers who attempted to climb it.

That had to violate multiple child-safety laws, he thought, as he stared in in horror. 

But no one else seemed to mind. In fact, all of the campers seemed perfectly at ease, going about their insane business in their neon-orange shirts, laughing and chatting as if they weren’t participating in numerous deadly activities.

It was a stark contrast to the ugly twist of unease and anxiety tightening in Regulus’ stomach.

“So,” Frank began, breaking the silence, “you’re new to all this, huh?”

Regulus bit back a snappy retort, settling for a short nod instead. Yeah, new—as in he didn’t know any of this shit existed until yesterday.

Frank gave him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry. Everyone’s in the same boat when they first get here. You’ll catch on quick.”

Regulus eyed the rock-climbing wall doubtfully but didn't comment. Soon enough, they’d arrived at the horseshoe of cabins. The first one they passed was covered in what appeared to be grapevines, and Regulus couldn’t help but ask, “So the god of wine runs this place? Dionysus?”

Frank laughed at his tone. “Yeah, Mr. D’s been here for a while. He’s, uh, a bit…unique, but you’ll get used to it.”

That was one way of putting it. Regulus had nearly had a stroke when he’d met the guy, not the least because he absolutely refused to get his name right. Reginald was the closest he’d actually gotten to saying Regulus.

They continued past the grapevine house, Frank taking him on a loop tour around the horseshoe.

“Each house belongs to a god,” he explained. “It’s where their kids stay when they’re at camp. This one—” he gestured to the one on their right, a structure of marble with ornate roses and doves carved into the stone, “--belongs to Aphrodite. Their head councilor’s out on a quest right now, but he should be back soon.”

It really was a beautiful cabin, Regulus thought. With a pang in his chest, he briefly thought his brother would like it. He shook his head to clear it. He’d made a mental vow to forget about Sirius. Although, frankly, he was really quite terrible at it.

“And that one?” Regulus asked in an attempt to crash and burn that train of thought.

Frank followed his finger to a building of simple wood, without any of the pomp-and-circumstance of the previous cabin. “That belongs to Artemis.”

Regulus frowned, struggling to recall what little he knew about Greek mythology. “Wasn’t she a Virgin goddess, though?”

Frank gave him an approving grin. “Yeah. But gods tend to be a bit…volatile, and it’s best to honor them anyway. No one ever stays in her cabin unless her hunters come to visit, but we still have one here out of respect for her.”

They continued on, passing the Athena and Demeter cabins before they reached the U of the horseshoe. The two cabins at the head were the largest by far, dwarfing the others.

“And who do these belong to?” Regulus asked, staring up at the imposing buildings.

Frank glanced at them, but continued to walk as he said, “Zeus and Hera. They’re empty too, though. Hera doesn’t have any children other than with Zeus, and after World War II, the Big Three swore an oath not to have any more demi-god children.”

Regulus glanced over at him. “The Big Three?” he asked.

“Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades,” Frank replied as they passed another wooden cabin, this one much larger than Artemis’ had been and painted green. Regulus could wager a guess that this one belonged to Posiedon.

“Why’d they swear off having children?” Especially Zeus, Regulus thought. One of the only things he could remember about the guy was his propensity for producing offspring.

Frank grimaced at the question. “Well…” he began carefully. “Their children were kind of responsible for starting the World Wars.”

Regulus stopped. He blinked. “What?” he asked incredulously. “Are you saying Hitler was a demi-god?”

Frank shrugged. “I’m not actually sure who was and who wasn’t. They don’t exactly teach us that. All I know is that the Big Three felt that their children had too big of an effect on history, so they swore on the Styx not to have any more mortal children.”

They passed another cabin, this one more of a fortress than anything, its exterior covered in weapons and metal chains.

“That’s actually pretty responsible of them,” Regulus wondered aloud. If Regulus had had a kid who brought about the deaths of millions of people, he would also never want to have children again.

Frank shrugged, but didn’t comment.

They passed a few more cabins, Frank pointing each one out to him and explaining which god they represented, before they came to a stop in front of a simple, light-colored wooden one. It looked sturdy, if a bit plain—certainly far less pretentious than most of the other cabins they’d passed.

“This is the Hermes cabin,” Frank said proudly. “It’s technically for the children of Hermes, but since he’s the god of travelers, it’s also home to the unclaimed and wayward demi-gods.”

He opened the door, and Regulus stepped in after him. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, you’ll be staying with us for now.”

The cabin was bustling with activity. Bunk beds were crammed into every corner, and there were a few mattresses scattered over the wooden floor. Kids of all ages milled about, chatting or playing games. It was loud, chaotic—the exact opposite of anything Regulus was used to. But, he thought as he took the place in, it was alive in a way that none of his previous arrangements had been either. It would take some getting used to, but in time, he might be able to like the place.

“Welcome to the madhouse,” Frank said with a grin. “You’ll get a bunk and some basic supplies. It’s a bit crowded, but we manage.”

Regulus fought back a smile at that. Crowded, indeed. “So… how long do I stay unclaimed for?”

Frank shrugged. "Depends. Some gods claim their kids right away, others…not so much. Don’t worry about it too much, though. You’ll fit right in here. We take care of our own.”

Regulus swallowed. He imagined living here for years, unclaimed, unwanted by his godly parents, his mortal parents, and his brother.

He shook the image away. “Right,” he said.

Just then, a horn sounded—or was it a conch? Regulus didn’t know. All he knew was the sound brought a grin to many of the campers faces. He looked to Frank, a questioning look on his face.

Frank grinned. “Dinnertime,” he said.

***

Two weeks later, Regulus was finally starting to get into the swing of things. He was getting better at archery, thanks to the tutelage of Alice, the Apollo cabin’s head councilor. He was also getting used to being whacked at with sharp objects—as a daughter of Ares, Dorcas was a fierce fighter, but she was also incredibly helpful when she wasn’t focused on beating him to a pulp. He hadn’t quite mastered the climbing wall, though. Climbing was fine—he could climb trees all day, no problem. He just couldn’t quite get past the whole ‘spewing lava’ bit.

He’d even made friends. To be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure how that happened. One day, he was a loner, the new kid at camp who didn’t talk to anyone except Frank, and the next he’d been adopted by Pandora, Evan, and Barty. They were all a bit insane, if he was being honest. It made sense for Barty, because apparently Dionysus was also the god of insanity, so his children being a little crazy seemed normal. Pandora, as a child of Apollo who occasionally suffered from visions of the future, also made sense. Evan had absolutely no excuse, though, and he was nearly as crazy as the rest of them.

But after a bit of a shaky landing, Regulus had settled into a routine here. One he almost enjoyed. Picking strawberries with Barty, Evan, and the other Demeter kids—Xenophilius, Pandora’s boyfriend, was also a bit weird, but he was starting to grow on Regulus—sparring with Dorcas and the more tolerable members of the Ares cabin, archery with the Apollo kids, and the occasional nail painting session with some of the Aphrodite kids.

Thanks to Lily, he was even flying through most of the Ancient Greek books, reading at a pace he hadn’t previously thought possible.

Everyone was nice enough, after they got used to him. Being the new kid was weird no matter what, Regulus knew that intimately, but apparently his brand of weird was shared by the other campers.

In fact, there were very few kids that Regulus actually disliked. Gilderoy, one of the Aphrodite kids, never ceased to get on his nerves, so Regulus did his best to avoid him. Two of the Ares kids—Avery and Mulciber—were a bunch of thick-headed assholes who seemed to enjoy picking on some of the younger kids. Regulus asked Dorcas to train him harder with the sole purpose of eventually being able to kick their asses in training.

And he practiced. A lot.

By himself, or with whoever was on the training fields while he was there. He wasn’t willing to be weak and helpless like he’d been the first time he’d come face-to-face with a monster. Benjy had saved his ass, putting himself in danger to do so—there was no way he was letting anything like that happen again. Especially not when he now had the means to defend himself.
Not when he now had something to protect other than himself. 

But as with almost every other good thing Regulus had ever had, it was ripped out his grasp before he could even try to hold onto it.

Chapter Text

James didn’t know where everything went wrong. One minute, they were fine, ready for a triumphant return from a successful quest. The next, he and Remus were dragging Sirius’ unconscious form over the boundary line as Peter ran ahead shouting for help. 

James could feel the weight of Sirius pressing down on his shoulder, the warm, sticky feeling of fresh blood clinging to his skin through his shirt. His breathing was shallow, his head lolling from side to side despite their best attempts not to jostle him.

The sight of Chiron’s figure galloping towards them made James’ knees go weak in relief. He’d know what to do. 

“What happened?” the centaur asked as he approached them. 

“I don’t know,” James got out, panicked to the point of near hysteria. “We were fine, everything was fine, and then a bunch of monsters appeared out of nowhere. They got the jump on Sirius before we even knew what was happening, I—”

“Alright,” Chiron cut him off smoothly, seemingly unruffled. “Let’s get him to the Big House. We can talk more later.”

The next four hours were some of the worst of James’ life, and as a half-blood, that was saying something. Under the influence of nectar and ambrosia, as well as a little bit of Apollo’s special brand of healing, Sirius was starting to look much better, his wounds beginning to close and the color in his face beginning to return. The blood had been cleaned off him, and his ripped shirt had been replaced with the standard orange camp shirt. 

He wasn’t waking up, though, and James was getting worried.

“He’ll be alright, James,” Chiron had assured him before he’d left. “His body is on the mend. It’s just stressed at the moment—it will take time for him to wake up, but that is completely normal.”

James nodded woodenly, barely able to absorb the words.

Every time he looked at the still form of his best friend, guilt gnawed at his stomach. It had been his quest. He’d asked Sirius to come with him. He should be the one lying in the infirmary bed, not Sirius. 

Peter stood at the foot of Sirius’ bed, face pale as he regarded him. Remus sat at his bedside, one of Sirius’ hands clasped tightly within his own. James thought briefly that Sirius would be ecstatic about that development had he been awake, and the feeling of guilt twisted even tighter. 

Sirius frowned in his sleep for a moment, groaning in pain, and James let out a noise like a wounded animal. 

Remus glanced up at him. “James,” he said firmly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

James made a doubtful sound. “I asked him to come. On the quest, I asked him to—”

“He would have found a way to come even if you hadn’t,” Remus said. He glanced at Peter. “We all would have.”

That actually wasn’t helpful at all. “I should have known—should have helped. If I hadn’t—”

“James, stop,” Peter said softly, cutting him off. “You can’t think like that.”

“I didn’t mean for him to get hurt,” James whispered to himself. He should've gone alone, should've done literally anything else, because now his best friend was lying unconscious in an infirmary bed giving no sign that he'd wake up anytime soon.

Peter sighed. “Of course you didn’t,” he agreed, “but it happened. And that’s not your fault. It’s how things went. You aren’t responsible for the actions of the monster that got him.”

“I’m responsible for him being there in the first place,” James argued. He wasn't sure why this was a debate in the first place. Really, they should all be mad at him. 

Peter shook his head.

“Shut up, James,” Remus said frustratedly. James looked at him, shocked at his tone. “Sirius is lying in an infirmary bed—which isn’t your fault—so you should pull your head out of your ass and focus on him. It’s no use playing the blame game. It won’t change anything. All you can do now is be here for him when he wakes up.”

James stared at Remus, blinking in surprise. He’d never spoken to him like that, not in all the years they’d been friends. He tried not to let it affect him—he knew Remus was just as worried as he was—but it still stung a bit. 

Peter took pity on him, reaching out to give his hand a quick squeeze. “He wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over it either, James.”

James nodded in appreciation. Despite the way the words had stung, Remus was right. Throwing a pity party wasn’t helping anyone. But he couldn’t sit here and do nothing. Thankfully, the appearance of Lily solved that problem. 

“James,” she said as she swept into the infirmary, “Chiron’s asking for you. I think he’d like a debrief about your quest.”

James nodded, standing up from his seat, body a bit stiff from sitting for so long. He didn’t particularly want to leave Sirius’ side, but he was no use just sitting around, and having something to do might distract him from the guilt still gnawing at his stomach.

“I’m glad you’re back, Remus,” Lily said to her brother, patting his shoulder lightly. “We were worried when you guys ran over time.”

Remus gave her a tight smile. “So little faith? You didn’t burn the shrouds already, did you?”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Course not,” she said. “We knew you’d come back.” Her eyes settled on Sirius, and the amusement on her face was immediately replaced with worry. “How is he?”

Remus looked down at the boy in question. “He’s getting better,” was all he said. He reached out to tuck a lock of black hair behind Sirius’ ear, his fingers brushing against his cheek before he pulled back. 

Yeah, Sirius was going to be so mad he’d slept through this. As his best friend, though, James would glad regale him with the story once he woke up. When he woke up. 

Lily nodded, taking that answer for what it was. Then, she turned back to James. “Let’s go then, Potter.”

James took one last look back at Sirius’ still form before following Lily out. As they moved towards the Big House, Lily chatted away, evidently trying to take James’ mind off of the fact that his best friend was still unconscious. Most of her words floated past him like water, filling his ears but never truly reaching his brain. 

His thoughts were still with the infirmary behind him, and focusing on anything else was a bit of struggle. Still, Lily was one of his closest friends, so after a bit of moping, he did try to pay attention to what she was saying. 

“...and we got a new kid, while you guys were gone, too,” she was saying when James finally tuned in. 

He looked over at her at that. New kids were rare—an unfortunate fact of being a demigod was that you were more likely to die before sixteen than you were to make it to the safety of Camp Half-Blood. Even with the help of a satyr, the trip could be difficult and more than a little dangerous. 

“What cabin?” he asked.

Lily shrugged her shoulders. “Undetermined right now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was claimed soon,” she said. “He’s improved pretty fast since he got here. Fab and Gid are running a betting pool as to who his godly parent is—right now, I think there’s a three-way tie between Ares, Athena, and Aphrodite.”

James, who had been about to tune out again when Lily had said ‘undetermined,’ raised his eyebrows at that. That was an interesting combination. Lily saw his expression and let out a soft laugh. 

“Oh, he’s great,” she said. “Sharp as all get out, both with his brain and his words. He caught onto Ancient Greek almost immediately, and he’s become a force to be reckoned with on the training field—he can hold his own against Dorcas for a while now, even.”

James had to admit that was pretty impressive. Dorcas was one of their best fighters and was absolutely deadly with a spear. 

“Not to mention he’s drop-dead gorgeous, too. I’ve never seen a prettier boy—except maybe Sirius.” She frowned. “Actually, they share a few similarities, I think. It would make sense if they were related…maybe he is a child of Aphrodite, after all.”

At the mention of Sirius, all the levity of the conversation left James’ body. 

Lily must have noticed, because she softened immediately. “Hey,” she said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be alright, James. Don’t worry.”

James made a noncommittal noise. He hoped so, but it did nothing to quell the worry in his chest. 

Lily sighed. “Come on, let's hurry up and get this debriefing over with, yeah? Then you can go back to the infirmary to see him.”

***

So apparently everything was so much worse than he’d originally thought. After he, Remus, Peter, and Sirius had left for the quest, the gods had gone completely radio silent. Even Mr. D hadn’t been able to get a message to anyone on Olympus, which was more than a little bit worrying. 

Not to mention the sharp drop in the number of monster sightings.  Apparently, other than Sirius’ attack, the last big group of monsters they'd seen had been the Laistrygonian Giants that had driven the new kid to camp. 

Something big was going on, and James felt more than a little bit out of his depth. 

“What’s happening, Chiron?” James asked. From beside him, Lily bit her lip in worry. 

Chiron let out a troubled sigh. “I wish I knew, James.” He paused for a moment, a worried frown crossing his face, and James felt his heart sink. “We’ll have to call for another quest.”

“What?” Lily burst out in surprise. “They just got back! Having another one so soon…”

“Seems unlucky, I know,” Chiron agreed grimly. “But it must be done. I will call for a meeting of the head councilors, see who will be willing to lead it.”

James remained quiet. 

Lily scoffed. “Who’d be mad enough to volunteer?” she asked. “Everyone knows something’s off. And after Peter’s dramatic entrance, everyone knows how Sirius came back. No one will want to go.”

“We’ll find someone,” Chiron said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “We can’t afford to wait and hope things will get better on their own.”

James clenched his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms. The memory of dragging Sirius’ unconscious body over the hill was still fresh in his mind, and the thought of sending more of their friends into danger made him sick. 

It was true that, as a half-blood, there was always risk involved when leaving the camp. But with the state of the world in its current condition? With the gods not answering anyone’s prayers? There would be no one to help them in the case of an emergency. Going on a quest now was practically a death wish. 

“I’ll go,” James heard himself say, before he’d even consciously made the decision. Both Lily and Chiron snapped their gazes over to him. 

Lily shook her head. “James, you just got back,” she protested. “You don’t have to—”

James cut her off. “No, I do,” he insisted. He turned his gaze to Chiron, locking eyes with the centaur. “I can’t sit around and do nothing knowing things might just get worse. I won’t leave Sirius until he gets better, but if someone still needs to go after he wakes up…I’ll do it.”

Chiron studied him for a long moment, something old and sad in his eyes. James didn't know what it meant, but it wasn't exactly reassuring. “We’ll discuss it later, James. But for now, focus on Sirius. Your friends need you.”

James gave a curt nod, though the knot of dread at the thought of what was to come did not loosen. Still, something had to be done, and he'd now been on more quests than most campers combined. He might as well be the one to do it.

After a nod of dismissal, he turned and left the Big House, Lily at his side as he made his way back to the infirmary. He was a bit worried about how he'd explain to Remus and Peter that he'd literally just signed up for another quest almost immediately after returning from one--they definitely wouldn't be pleased. He also wasn't sure how he'd be able to convince them not to go with him. After Sirius, there was no way he was letting another one of them get hurt. 

Apparently, he needn't have worried about that, though. The sight that met them upon their return was equal parts wonderful, worrying, and confusing, and immediately swept all quest-related thoughts out of the window. 

Wonderful, because Sirius was now awake and alert.

Worrying, because the look on Sirius's face made it seem as though he’d just seen a ghost. 

Confusing, because the person Sirius was staring at stood with his back to James, so he had no idea who it was. Pandora—only one camper had hair that blonde and curly—stood next to him, a reassuring hand placed on his shoulder. 

James looked between them and Sirius in confusion. Why was Pandora comforting this other camper, when Sirius looked as if he was about to pass out?

“Sirius,” James called out, perhaps in an attempt to break whatever strange tension was going on between them. “You’re awake.”

Sirius only glanced at him before his gaze returned to the man in front of him. The man didn’t even flinch in acknowledgement of James’ presence. 

Underneath his relief that Sirius was awake, the dismissal admittedly left him feeling a bit unsettled. Sirius never ignored James, not even for Remus. 

Pandora pushed herself up on her toes to whisper something in the other guy’s ear, too quiet for James to hear. But whatever it was managed to get a reaction from him. James watched as the guy’s head nodded and he followed Pandora as she moved away. 

“Reggie,” Sirius called out as the guy turned away. His voice was hoarse, though James wasn’t sure if it was because he’d just woken up or due to the emotions flitting across his face--fear, grief, hope, anger, and countless other emotions warred in his expression, leaving James even more confused as to who, exactly, the guy was and what, exactly, Sirius' relationship with him was. 

The guy—Reggie—stiffened immediately, his posture going rigid, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. But he didn’t turn around. 

James officially had no idea what was going on. 

“Reggie,” Sirius breathed again, heartbreak on his face. 

“Don’t call me that,” Reggie—not Reggie?--gritted out. “You don’t get to call me that.”

The venom and anger in the guy’s voice took James aback, before he felt himself becoming angry in return, riding to Sirius' defense. “Hey, watch how you talk to him.”

That got a response. The guy whirled around to look at him, and James was momentarily struck by how beautiful he was. Elegant high cheekbones, a jaw sharp enough to draw blood, a defined cupid's bow over a pair of lush lips. It was ruined slightly by the stormy expression on his face and the redness rimming his eyes, but James had his glassed on--he wasn't blind. The guy was gorgeous. 

He tilted his head. Actually, he resembled Sirius a bit. This must be the new camper Lily had been talking about earlier. 

James looked back and forth between the man glaring at him and the one sitting in the infirmary bed.

He’d always thought Sirius had been handsome. It was an objective fact. Part of it was just genes—the other part could probably be attributed to the fact that he was a child of Aphrodite. But despite the similarities between Sirius and the stranger—the slope of their noses, the prominent bone structure—they also seemed completely different. 

Where Sirius’ hair was wavy and long, this guy’s was shorter, his tighter curls ending at the nape of his neck. It was also more than a few shades darker, which shouldn’t have been possible given that Sirius’ hair was already a dark black, but his guy’s curls seemed to swallow the light around him. 

His features were far sharper than Sirius’ as well. Where Sirius reminded him of a wildfire, this guy was pure ice—sharp and cold. 

And angry. 

“What?” he spat as he glared at James. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Reggie,” Sirius warned, causing the guy to spin back on him. James was momentarily distracted by just how graceful the movement was. Huh. Maybe the guy did ballet?

“I just told you not to call me that,” he said, voice low and dangerous, something about it causing the hairs at the back of James’ neck to stand on end. 

“Reggie,” Pandora said softly, placing a placating hand on his arm. 

Surprisingly, ‘Reggie’ didn’t snap at her, which was good because then James would have had to beat him up.

That would have been a shame for multiple reasons: one, he didn't really want to ruin the guy's face--it would feel a bit like a crime against humanity, really. For another, he had absolutely no idea who the guy was or what his relationship was with Sirius or Pandora, so it'd be a bit embarrassing for him to beat up a stranger without knowing all of the context.

Instead, the guy seemed to soften slightly under her touch. 

“Let’s go,” Pandora continued when he showed no further signs of protest. “Evan and Barty are waiting.” 

She grabbed ahold of one of his hands, pulling him along. Reggie followed, his movements stiff, but he froze again at the sound of Sirius’ scoff.

“What, she gets to call you Reggie, and I don’t?” Sirius said sourly. “I’m your fucking brother, you asshole.”

James's eyes snapped to Sirius in surprise. He'd only mentioned a brother once, in his early days at camp. Something about a half-brother who was the second coming of their mortal parents. Someone Sirius had wanted to leave behind, along with his previous mortal life. 

James had heard him talking in his sleep, though. He knew that wasn’t quite the whole story—that Sirius might’ve missed him more than he let on. He’d never said anything, though—they all had ghosts they wanted to keep in the closet. 

It seemed that this particular ghost had gotten out, though.

“You’re not my brother,” Reggie said flatly, voice void of emotion. James shivered at the sound. “You stopped being my brother the day you left.”

Damn. Okay. That was a bit harsh, James thought.

With that, he strolled from the room, Pandora trailing in his wake. 

James looked back at Sirius, who looked completely stricken. The part of James that belonged to Sirius was indignant on his behalf, cursing at his best friend’s brother for hurting him. The other, smaller part wondered if it wasn’t a bit hypocritical of Sirius to be offended when he’d once said something so similar. 

James quickly shoved those thoughts away, though, moving towards Sirius and sitting at the edge of his bed. Lily, who’d been silently watching the whole exchange, followed suit. 

“Are you okay?” James asked quietly. Sirius gave him an incredulous look. So that was a no, then. Alright, that seemed fair. Maybe he should change the subject. “Where are Remus and Peter?”

Sirius shrugged. “Peter went to grab some of my things from the cabin. Emmeline came to get Remus a few minutes after I woke up—not sure what for, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer.”

They were silent for a moment. James wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Which was weird, because he rarely ever had a shortage of words, especially where Sirius was involved.

“So,” Lily said after a moment, breaking the silence. “You have a brother? And that brother is Regulus?”

Not Reggie, then. Regulus. James pictured him in his mind, mentally studying all of his sharp angles and lines. It suited him, he thought. Regal and sharp, just like the boy himself.

Sirius winced, whether at her tone or at her words James wasn’t sure. “Apparently not. Didn’t you hear, Lily? I’m not his brother,” he said bitterly. 

Yeah, that had been a bit rough. 

Lily ignored this. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had a brother, you asshole,” she scolded him. James knew that, had Sirius not been injured, she would've whacked him over the head. More to herself, she said, “And I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner. I knew you two looked alike.” She sighed. “Well, I guess there goes the idea that he’d be an Athena kid. Another win for the Aphrodite cabin, I suppose.”

Sirius gave her a look of complete confusion. “What? No. Reggie isn’t a demi-god.”

James blinked at him slowly. What was he on about?

Lily gave him an unimpressed look. “No, Sirius, I’m pretty sure he is.” 

Sirius shook his head in denial. “No, I would know if he was.”

Look, Sirius wasn't an idiot. At least not usually, which was why James knew that there was something else behind his denial. Something that refused to let Sirius accept the truth. Lily wasn't privy to the same Sirius-related knowledge that James was, though, so she just looked at him like he was, in fact, an idiot.

“He reads Ancient Greek easily but struggles with English, he’s ADHD like the rest of us, he can see through the Mist, Celestial Bronze makes him bleed, and he didn’t disintegrate when given Ambrosia or Nectar,” she said, ticking of each item on her fingers. 

Sirius continued to stubbornly shake his head. “No,” he said adamantly. “There’s no way he’s a demi-god.”

Lily rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up. She mumbled something about needing to go somewhere before leaving the room with one last backward glance. He watched her go silently before turning back to his best friend.

James studied him quietly for a moment. He was paler than usual, perhaps from blood-loss or something else. His expression was nearly blank, his eyes seemingly miles away. He may not know all the details, but the interaction between the brothers had thrown Sirius completely, to the point that James knew it wasn't just about the words Regulus had spat before he'd left.

“Why can’t he be a demi-god, Sirius?” James asked quietly.

Sirius glanced down at his hands, fiddling with the sheets. “Because if he is, then I left him behind with those monsters for no reason at all,” he whispered brokenly. 

Oh, that...that was just sad.

James scooted forwards, mindful of Sirius’ bandages as he drew his best friend into a gentle hug.

It wasn’t long before Sirius began to sob. 

Chapter Text

Pandora smelled like honey and flowers, was all Regulus could think as he shook in her arms. 

She ran her fingers gently through his hair, rocking him in her arms in time with his sobs. The gentleness, the comfort—something he’d never really known—only made him cry harder. 

“I know,” she whispered into his hair. “Let it all out.”

Regulus didn’t think he could let it all out if he cried for the rest of his life. The amount of grief, pain, and anger that had built up in the span of three years was far larger, far deeper, than the short span of time should have allowed for.

He’d been happy here, too—or the closest thing to happy he’d ever been before. 

And then Sirius had to show up and ruin it. 

Not one word from him, not even a whisper in three whole years, and somehow, he managed to show up right when Regulus was beginning to make a life for himself. 

He scoffed, although it was cut off as another sob erupted from him.

It wasn’t fair. 

“Who do we need to beat up?” came a low voice. It sounded teasing, but it carried the undertone of a genuine threat—Barty. 

“No one, yet,” Pandora said softly, her hand continuing to stroke his head. He curled into her further, burying his face into her shoulder. 

“Yet?” he heard Evan ask lightly, although it contained a sharp edge to it. 

“I’m waiting to see what Reg wants to do,” Pandora said simply.

Oh. 

Oh, he loved her, Regulus realized. All of them. In the span of a few weeks, he’d gone and gotten attached to these three losers. He didn’t want to have to let them go.

Wait.

Why should he? Why should he have to give them up, just because Sirius was back? He was a demi-god. He belonged here. Pandora, Evan, and Barty—they were his people. Sirius may have taken everything in the past, but this was now. 

After three years, he didn’t have the right to take anything anymore. Regulus wouldn’t let him. 

After a moment, his sobs slowed to sniffles, and he sat up, wiping his eyes on his long sleeves. He took his friends in—all of them sitting on the forest floor, a wet spot on the shoulder of Pandora’s shirt. All of them were staring at him in concern, but there wasn’t an ounce of pity there—none of them were looking at him like he was weak for crying, like he was a coward. 

No. In their eyes, there was only warmth and patience, and Regulus felt something break open in his chest—something that he hadn’t even noticed he’d been choking on his whole life. 

“Sorry,” he sniffled, staring down at his scuffed-up shoes. The Regulus from three weeks ago would've been horrified by their condition, but this Regulus had nearly gotten incinerated by lava a few to many times to care about a couple scrapes in the leather. 

Pandora reached up a hand to wipe away a stray tear from his cheek. “No, Regulus, don’t apologize,” she said softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“What happened, Reg?” Barty asked, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. 

Jesus, at this rate he was going to start crying all over again. 

Regulus glanced at him for a moment. “My brother happened,” he said finally. He didn't really know what else to say, and he figured that summed it up quite nicely. 

Barty’s eyes widened, and Evan breathed in sharply. 

“ That brother?” Evan asked incredulously. 

Barty elbowed him in the gut hard enough for him to wheeze. “Does he have a different brother, idiot?”

Evan glared at him. “Shut up, you ass.” He then turned back to Regulus before Barty could respond. “He’s here, then? What, is he a demi-god or something?”

Regulus nodded miserably. 

“Regulus’ brother is Sirius Black,” Pandora said evenly. Regulus looked away, unable to meet her gaze. 

Barty and Evan froze, staring at her in shock. 

“You’re kidding me,” Barty said. “You’re kidding, right?” He looked to Regulus for support, but Regulus just shook his head. “Shit.”

Yeah. That about summed it up. 

Evan hummed. “You know, now that I’m thinking about it, you do look a bit similar.”

Barty elbowed him again, and Evan looked a bit guilty. “Sorry,” he told Regulus sheepishly, but Regulus shook his head. 

“It’s fine,” he said, though nothing about this situation was actually fine. “If I had known he was a half-blood, I would have told you guys.”

He hadn’t actually told them much about his brother in the first place, or about any of his family, for that matter. But it had come up in conversation a few times—there was no better way to bond than by sharing trauma, right?

And really, they shared quite a lot of it. There wasn’t a single good pair of parents between them. Barty’s adoptive father was an abusive work-obsessed asshole, and his mom didn’t have the spine to stand up for himself or their son. Pandora’s mom was a drunk who had gambled away all of Pandora’s meager savings when she was nine. Evan’s parents were emotionally unavailable and manipulative, and words like ‘mistake’ and ‘disappointment’ had constantly been thrown his way during childhood. 

And don’t even get Regulus started on his own parents.

But somehow, they’d all managed to make it out. They’d left the past and the horrors of their families behind them and found a home at Camp Half-Blood, with each other. 

Until it came back, nipping at the heels in the form of Regulus’ brother. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Barty said decisively, shifting until he was sitting pressed against Regulus’ other side. 

Evan nodded, reaching for one of Regulus’ hands and squeezing it. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We’ve got your back, Reg. Whatever happens.”

Pandora ran a hand through his hair again, and he leaned into the touch slightly. “This is your home now, Regulus,” she said softly, but leaving no room for argument. “No one can take that from you. Not even Sirius.”

Regulus relaxed at that, leaning his head onto her shoulder. Home. That sounded nice, in theory. His family had a plethora of houses, of course, but Regulus didn't think he'd ever truly had a home. 

“Besides, we’re a team now,” Barty added, a slightly mischievous look on his face. “If he wants to try anything, he’ll have to get through all of us first.”

Regulus felt a surge of affection for them. They’d been here long before Regulus had gotten here. They’d probably known Sirius far longer than they’d know him. By all rights, they should be siding with his brother. 

But they were here. And they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

Regulus smiled slightly at the thought. “You guys aren’t so bad after all,” he said. 

Barty groaned. “Don’t tell anyone, Reg, you’ll ruin my reputation.”

Evan snorted. “You do that well enough on your own.”

Barty reached over to whack him, and Evan let out a noise in protest. Regulus watched them fondly. 

He didn’t know what it meant, now that Sirius had appeared back in his life. It was another earthquake in an already unstable house. But no matter what, this time was different—this time, Regulus had people in his corner. This time, he wasn’t alone. 

***

Things weren’t quite normal again after that, but Regulus hadn’t expected them to be. Pandora, Barty, and Evan all treated him the same of course, although if they hung around him a bit more, that was nobody’s business but their own. 

Dorcas didn’t look at him any different, either. She’d taken one look at him when he’d showed up at the training field the next day and shoved a sword into his hands. 

“Glad to see you’re still alive," she'd said, then went right back to beating his ass in the training ring, forcing him to focus on not getting stabbed instead of on his emotions, which Regulus was grateful for. Other than Pandora, Barty, and Evan, she was rapidly becoming one of his favorite people, actually. 

But to almost everyone else, he’d gone right back to being the strange outsider. 

Word had somehow gotten out, and everyone knew Regulus and Sirius were brothers. Everyone knew they didn’t get along—although no one had to be told that. It was obvious from the way Regulus refused to even look at Sirius, from the way he immediately left the room whenever the older boy entered it. Obvious from the scowl on Sirius’ face and the curses he threw at Regulus’ back whenever he left. 

And they’d all known Sirius first. Regulus was the new guy, the outsider, the wild card. Their loyalty was to Sirius first. 

Regulus had to admit, it bothered him a bit, but nowhere near as much as it could have. For one, he was used to being an outsider. And for two, he had his own people, now. He didn’t need anyone else.

The longer Sirius was back, though, the more restless the campers became. Regulus began to hear whispers, people wondering why Aphrodite hadn’t bothered to claim him yet. 

He had to admit, he couldn’t help but wonder the same himself. Maybe he’d never be claimed. Not that that would be surprising, he thought bitterly. It would just be another thing Sirius had that Regulus couldn’t. 

“I hope he eats shit and dies,” came a bitter young voice from beside him. Regulus looked over to see Rosalind, one of the younger campers from the Aphrodite cabin who’d once painted his nails, glaring fiercely off into the distance. Regulus followed her gaze to find Mulciber manhandling one of the Pegasi, who reared at him. 

Regulus glanced back at her. “That’s a bit graphic,” he said, amused. 

She rolled her eyes at him. “He deserves it.”

Regulus didn’t contradict her. Mulciber was an asshole, that was true. He’d only gotten worse since Sirius and his friends had gotten back. Although, surprisingly, his treatment of Regulus still hadn’t changed—he was still just an asshole. 

“Maybe,” was all he said. He then went back to piling hay into a wheelbarrow. He was on stable duty with Rosalind, Henry Nott and Greta from the Hermes cabin, and one of the kids from the Athena cabin whose name he couldn't remember. 

He felt Rosalind’s eyes on him for a moment, but he studiously ignored her in favor of the hay. 

Despite being one of Sirius’ actual siblings, she hadn’t treated him any different since his— their— brother’s return. In fact, if anything, she seemed to see it as a reason to hang around him more often. 

Regulus admittedly didn’t know what to make of it.

“You know,” she started slowly, “I hope you get claimed soon.”

Regulus froze, looking over at her. She was smiling softly at him. 

“I wouldn’t mind having you as a brother.”

Regulus’ heart clenched in his chest. “Thanks,” he choked out. “You wouldn’t be an awful sister, either.”

She grinned at him, then skipped over to her own wheelbarrow. 

Regulus tried to ignore the ache in his chest. As sweet as it was, Regulus was pretty sure she was the only one who thought so. Sirius certainly didn’t, given how he’d left him behind the first chance he got—Regulus hadn’t forgotten what he’d said before he’d left. 

And as nice as it would be to finally be claimed, to know who his godly parent was, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to be Aphrodite. 

Not that there was anything wrong with the goddess of love. No, the problem was Sirius. Sirius had gotten away from Grimmauld Place, away from Regulus, and as angry as Regulus was, he didn’t want to take that away any more than he already had.

True, a part of him would feel a nasty sort of satisfaction about joining the Aphrodite cabin, but he knew what it was like to think you’d made a life for yourself only to have the past come crashing back in. And he knew what it was like to have something all your own, only for it to be torn away and given to your brother. 

So as much as he hated Sirius, he hoped that Aphrodite never laid claim to him. 

“Regulus!” a voice called, and Regulus looked up to see Greta frantically waving him over. He shared a look with Rosalind before dropping his pitchfork and jogging over to her.

“What’s wrong, Greta?” he asked, giving her a once over. She looked fine, if a bit panicked—at least, she wasn’t sporting any visible injuries. 

“Mulciber’s got Henry and Siobhan cornered,” she panted out. “Siobhan told him off for the way he was treating Stormfeather, and he went off on her. Henry tried to intervene, but Mulciber only went after him, too.”

“Where?” he demanded, grabbing a nearby shovel. Greta was already moving, and he followed after her, Rosalind trailing behind. 

He cursed at the scene he found when Greta slowed to a stop. 

Henry was sporting what was soon to be a black eye, the skin red and swollen shut. His lip was split, and there was a thin trail of blood dribbling down his chin. Mulciber had the Athena girl—Siobhan—backed up against a wall, a knife pressed against her neck. To her credit, she didn’t look scared in the slightest, her face instead burning with anger and hatred.

Regulus tightened his grip on the shovel. “Drop the knife, Mulciber,” Regulus said, keeping his tone even. 

Mulciber looked back at him in surprise, before his face twisted into a nasty grin. “Or what, Regulus? What are you gonna do?”

Regulus shrugged, making a show of studying the shovel in his hands. He then gave Mulciber a considering look. “It rained yesterday, did you know?” he asked casually.

Mulciber’s face twisted into confusion.

“When it rains, the dirt becomes soft,” Regulus continued. “Easier to dig.” He lifted the corners of his lips, although he was sure no one would call the expression on his face a smile. “Being a half-blood is so dangerous, Mulciber, wouldn’t you agree? Getting hurt is a part of the job description, really. It wouldn’t be too unbelievable if one of us just went missing. It’s happened before, hasn’t it?”

Mulciber seemed to understand where he was going with this, as his face had gone a bit pale.

“What do you think?” Regulus asked conversationally, resting the shovel on his shoulder. “Do you think they’d look for you? Would they even notice you went missing?” Regulus smirked. “It wouldn’t matter, anyway. They wouldn’t be able to find you.”

Mulciber looked properly scared now, although he was trying very hard to keep hold of his anger. 

“Back away from Siobhan, Mulciber,” Regulus said, finally letting the emotion creep into his tone. “Put the knife away and leave, or we’re going to have to test out just how soft the ground is.”

Mulciber hesitated, glancing between Regulus and Siobhan, his grip on the knife and his determination both visibly wavering. His attention settled back on Regulus.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Mulciber muttered, eyes narrowed, but his tone carried a distinct note of uncertainty. 

Regulus shot him a smile, all teeth. “Would you like to find out?” he asked sweetly, taking a step forward. His grip on the shovel tightened. “I’ve had one hell of a week, Mulciber. What if this is the one thing that tips me over the edge?” He tilted his head at the boy in front of him. “You aren’t exactly the most well-liked person around Camp, you know. I’m sure people would understand if you wound up in the infirmary—even if I’m the one who put you there.”

Mulciber shifted on his feet.

“You’ve got enough enemies already, Mulciber,” Regulus said finally, voice soft, although the threat was clear. “Do you really want to add me to that list?”

Mulciber’s bravado cracked under his gaze, and he slowly lowered the knife, stepping back from Siobhan. She remained pressed against the wall, her gaze never leaving the knife in his hands, but her posture relaxed slightly. 

“Fine,” Mulciber spat at him, attempting to save face. “But this isn’t over, Black .”

Regulus didn’t flinch, refusing to let the hit show in his expression. “Yes, it is,” he said firmly. “If you know what’s good for you, it is very much over. Now leave, before I change my mind and bury your body in the woods.”

Mulciber hesitated a moment longer, then turned and stalked past them, ramming into Regulus’ shoulder and hissing curses under his breath as he left. Regulus watched him until he disappeared from sight.

As soon as he was gone, Regulus let out a relieved exhale, dropping the shovel in favor of helping Henry. “Are you okay?” he asked Siobhan as he hoisted Henry up, slinging one of his arms over his shoulder. 

Siobhan nodded, her fierce expression replaced with one of exhaustion now that Mulciber was gone. “Fine, thanks,” she responded, positioning herself under Henry’s other arm. “Thanks for the help by the way.” She grinned shakily. “You were pretty badass there, you know.”

Regulus scoffed. Yeah, right. He’d been bluffing the whole time, and he had absolutely no idea what he was saying or if it was even going to work. Really, he was just lucky Mulciber wasn’t smart enough to tell he was lying. 

“Hanging in there, Henry?” Regulus asked in lieu of responding to that. 

Henry groaned. “Just peachy.”

Regulus huffed in amusement. “Your face looks pretty bad—”

“Oh, wow, thanks.”

“—but you should be fine with a bit of nectar.” He looked over at Siobhan. “Let’s get him to the infirmary.”

She gave him a sharp nod. 

“Thanks, Regulus,” Henry mumbled, though the words were a bit slurred. 

“Don’t mention it,” he said, as they dragged him off, leaving the stables behind. 

***

Regulus stared at Henry’s sleeping form. Siobhan sat across from him, pencil scratching across the pages of a sketchbook. 

“You were…impressive back there, you know,” she said, breaking the silence. Regulus looked over at her to find her studying him carefully. “You really had him scared.”

Regulus stared back, unsure of how to respond. “He had a knife to your throat, Siobhan, and Henry was already on the floor.” 

She shrugged. “I’m not complaining, Regulus.” She went back to scribbling in her sketchbook for a moment, before she threw it to the floor with a frustrated huff. “Years of training, and when I finally need to defend myself for real, I freeze up! If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I’m not certain I’d still be alive.”

Personally, Regulus didn’t think Mulciber would have actually killed her. But he wasn't likely to have just left her alone, either. 

Regulus stood up, walking around the bed to pick up the sketchbook she’d thrown. He glanced at it briefly—she was talented, that was for sure—but only briefly, because it wasn’t his business. 

He held the book out to her. “The blade was against your carotid, Siobhan. If you’d moved wrong while trying to defend yourself, you would’ve bled out then and there.” Hesitantly, she took the sketchbook from him. “Besides, you’ve frozen up once. Now it’s out of your system—next time, you won't.”

She gave him a small smile, and Regulus sat in the empty chair next to her, which had originally been occupied by Greta. 

They sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to Henry’s rhythmic breathing. 

“Have you ever frozen up before?” Siobhan asked quietly after a moment. 

Regulus paused. “Yes,” he said just as quietly. Multiple times, although they’d been quite different from the events of today. 

“You didn’t with Mulciber,” she said. 

Regulus considered his words for a moment. “I don't really know Mulciber.”

Siobhan glanced over at him curiously, but he kept his eyes fixed on Henry. “It’s often those closest to us that hurt us the most,” she said wisely. “Because they’re the ones with the power to do so.”

Regulus hummed noncommittally. 

She was right, of course. No one had hurt him more than his brother had when he’d left. No one had even come close. But he hadn’t been thinking about his brother when Siobhan had asked him the question, and that was somehow even worse. 

“For the record,” Siobhan said, breaking him out of his thoughts, “I don’t think you’re a child of Aphrodite.”

Regulus looked over at her in surprise, and she laughed. 

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re certainly pretty enough to be—” Regulus scowled at that, but she continued, “--but you’re missing the spark—the flashiness.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow at her. “The ‘flashiness?’”

She shrugged. “I don’t know how to describe it, really. Your brother’s got in spades, of course, and Gilderoy’s an ass, but he’s certainly flashy. Even Roz and little Daisy have this, like… draw to them, you know?”

Regulus supposed he did know. Sirius was the definition of an attention seeker, but that really stemmed from the fact that he was somehow always at the center of attention in the first place. He certainly wouldn’t have described Rosalind as flashy, but now that he was thinking about it, he supposed he could see what Siobhan was going on about—no matter who she was with or where she was or what she was doing, it was really impossible not to notice her. 

“You don’t have that,” Siobhan continued. “You kinda seem to just…disappear, sometimes. If I’m not paying attention to you, or if I don’t already know you’re there, you just kind of…aren’t.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow at that. “Wow, thanks Siobhan,” he drawled. “That makes me feel so loved.”

She laughed, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. Regulus was surprised to notice he didn’t even flinch. “I don’t mean it that way, Regulus,” she said, eyes bright with amusement. “Besides, it can be a useful skill, you know. Anyway, all I’m saying is that I don’t think you’re an Aphrodite kid.”

“Sirius is my brother,” he said quietly. 

Siobhan raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe,” was all she said. 

Maybe not.

Regulus leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The sound of pencil on paper told him that Siobhan had resumed her sketching. 

What would he do if he wasn’t a child of Aphrodite? Would that mean Sirius wasn’t his brother? Would that be so bad?

They’d grown up together at Grimmauld Place. They shared a childhood filled with unspeakable horrors, although their pain was different and they bore it in different ways. Everything that made Sirius loud gave Regulus reason to stay quiet. Every reason Sirius had to break the rules made Regulus choose to follow them. 

But, different as they were, they’d been brothers, for a time. Would having different parents erase that, take away the fact that they’d grown up as siblings? Would Regulus really mind that? Would Sirius care?

He supposed it didn’t really matter in the end. Nothing he did would change his parentage, whatever it may be. Nothing could change the past. 

Chapter Text

James was fed up. 

It had already been a week since he, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had gotten back from their quest. A week since the revelation that Sirius’ brother was a demi-god. A week since James had stupidly volunteered to go on yet another quest.

And now he was running out of time.

Chiron wasn’t pressing him—he hadn’t said anything, but James knew he was anxious for another quest. He’d have to leave soon. And James hadn’t had the chance to tell his friends because Sirius was so focused on his brother or on Remus that he didn’t have an ounce of attention to spare for anything else.

He kicked at the sand angrily, watching as the crests of the waves whitened before they crashed against the sand. 

Everything was such a mess. 

A screech sounded to his right, and James was immediately on alert, scanning the beach for danger. 

He found no sign of monsters. 

Instead, he watched as a group of campers splashed around in the waves. Pandora was easy enough to make out, and he thought he recognized Mr. D’s son. James did a double take when he saw Dorcas Meadowes of all people wading in the water, watching as a few of the others were locked in a splash fight. 

One of Sirius’ younger siblings—maybe Rosalind, James thought—sprinted out of the water, shrieking all the while, Mr. D’s son fast on her heels. She rocketed up the beach until she reached the shade the woods provided, latching onto one of the two figures standing there and pulling him in front of her like a shield. 

“Using Reggie to protect you?” Mr. D’s son teased, and James was surprised to notice that it was, in fact, Regulus that Rosalind was holding onto. “That’s cheating, Roz.”

“He’ll protect me,” Rosalind shot back with full confidence. James was surprised by her surety. Nothing about Regulus screamed 'protector.' In fact, he carried himself more like a predator, James thought--with a feline grace and a chilliness that would be more likely to scare the little girl off instead of bringing her comfort. 

Regulus didn’t seem to find it unusual, though, his posture relaxed even as Rosalind and Mr. D’s son circled around him, the young girl giggling as Mr. D’s son teased her.

Admittedly, James had only seen Regulus around a few times since their first interaction, but the boy had always seemed tense and closed off--less prone to exploding than Sirius was, but with an intensity and fire impossible to miss. 

Here, though, there was a lightness to him that he hadn’t ever seen before—hadn’t thought would be possible for the younger Black brother. 

The campers in the water continued to splash around, peals of laughter reaching James’ ears as he watched. At some point, Dorcas had been roped into the fun, and she was now just as soaked as the rest of them, her hair plastered to her face as she dodged an incoming wave. 

After a moment, one of them broke off, making his way up the beach to join the others. 

“Roz, are you bullying our Reggie?” the newcomer said as he approached them.

Rosalind stuck her tongue out at him in response. “If anything, Barty’s the bully.”

“Oh?” the newcomer asked, although he didn’t sound surprised. “Are you bullying Reg, Barty?”

Mr. D’s son—Barty—grinned impishly, continuing to circle around Regulus. “Wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t such a priss. Afraid of a little water, Reg?”

Regulus didn’t rise to the bait, unmoving from his position between Barty and Rosalind. “Who would protect the innocent from you ruffians with me down there?”

“Henry could manage,” the new guy said, gesturing to the other figure sitting in the forest shade. 

“Henry still only has one working eye,” Regulus countered evenly. 

James startled slightly, squinting. Sure enough, even from this distance, he could make out the boy’s swollen black eye. He briefly wondered what had happened to it—he hadn’t heard of anyone getting hurt other than the usual scrapes and scratches, and that looked pretty serious comparatively.

Rosalind suddenly jumped onto Regulus’ back, clinging on like a limpet. Regulus barely reacted to the sudden weight, simply moving his arms to support her legs until she was piggybacking him. James found himself gaping slightly at the sight.

“You can’t have him,” Rosalind said possessively, wrapping her arms loosely around Regulus' neck.

Barty let out a startled laugh. “Do you hear that, Ev? Little Roz has stolen our Reggie from us!”

The other boy—Ev—shrugged. “So we steal both of them, then.”

Barty bumped Ev with his shoulder. “I like the way you think. Let’s get ‘em!”

As one, Barty and Ev surged forwards, Rosalind shrieking as they tore her off Regulus' back, dragging both of them to the water. James was sure Regulus could break out of their grip if he truly tried, but as it was, he only made a show of struggling. 

James watched in disbelief as Sirius’ bright younger sister and cold younger brother were dragged into the waves and seamlessly pulled into the splashing war. Rosalind’s shrieks turned into laughter as Barty and Ev splashed her mercilessly. For his part, Regulus seemed to slowly shuck off his reserved demeanor, occasionally throwing in his own wave of water. 

Here, among friends, he seemed at ease—almost like a normal camper, completely different from the Regulus James had thought he knew—completely different from the boy Sirius described. 

James watched them all from a distance, feeling a twinge of jealousy at the carefreeness of it all, at the ease with which they all interacted. 

That could be him—him, and Sirius and Remus and Peter and Lily and Marlene and Mary—but instead, he sat alone with the knowledge that he’d be leaving soon. With the knowledge that something was very wrong with the world, and it was about to be up to him to fix it. With the knowledge that Regulus Black could have this while Sirius was a hollow shell of himself. 

Suddenly, the sun didn’t feel so warm anymore, and the peals of laughter became grating on his ears. 

He stood up, taking one last glance back at the carefree campers, before turning his back and leaving the beach behind him. 

***

The next morning, James woke up to someone incessantly shaking his shoulder. This was strange for two reasons: one, as an early riser and a son of Apollo, James was usually up before everyone else. Two, if he did happen to sleep in for whatever reason, his siblings all knew better than to wake him up. 

“Get up, James,” came a familiar voice, its tone urgent enough to shake some of the sleep-induced fog from his head. 

“Wasgoinon?” he murmured, reaching for his glasses as he sat up. Glasses on and vision finally clear, he was met with a pale-faced Marlene. Immediately, he was on alert, all traces of tiredness gone in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

“Pandora’s had a vision,” she said hesitantly. “Chiron wants you to see the Oracle.”

James’ stomach dropped. 

So it was time, then. 

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he said finally. “Let me get dressed first.” 

Marlene nodded. 

As she left, James swung his legs over the edge of his bed, his mind racing. He pulled on a fresh shirt and jeans, lacing up his beat up red sneakers, the routine motions doing nothing to settle the ball of anxiety in his stomach. 

A vision from Pandora wasn’t unusual—instead of inheriting their father’s skills in archery, she’d received the gift of prophecy. She was nowhere near Oracle-level, her visions usually being far less clear, shorter, but much more frequent. 

But occasionally, she Saw something big—something important. In this case, something quest-worthy, apparently. 

He slipped his camp necklace over his head, the familiar weight of the beads grounding him a bit. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself. This was what he’d signed up for, after all. He had to be ready—unshakeable. 

James stepped out of the cabin, the rising sun casting long shadows across Camp Half-Blood. In the early morning, very few of the campers were awake, and the only sounds were the chirping of birds in the forest and the clinking of machinery sounding from the forge. 

He made his way to the Big House, each step feeling heavier than the last. When he reached the porch, he found Marlene waiting for him. She gave him a tense smile before leading the way inside. 

The air was cooler in the house, and James fought the urge to shiver. He lost that battle when his eyes found Chiron’s face, his expression carrying a gravity that didn’t bode well for him.  Pandora was seated at the table next to where Chiron stood, her face tired and drawn. She looked up when he entered, and her expression changed from exhausted to apologetic. 

James shook his head when she opened her mouth. “It’s okay, Pandora,” he told her before she could apologize. “I knew it was coming.”

She looked at him sadly. “So much is coming, James,” she said in response, and James felt his stomach sink to his toes. 

“What did you see?” he asked fearfully. 

She shook her head at him. “You need to see the Oracle.”

James felt his shoulders slump in defeat. This was really happening, then. After a moment, he straightened up. “Right,” he said. “Okay. Now?”

Chiron nodded. “I believe that would be best,” he said. “You will, of course, have a few days to prepare first, but the sooner you get a prophecy, the better.”

Right. Okay, then. “Alright.”

James turned, narrowly avoiding crashing into Marlene as he made his way to the attic stairs. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he pulled the chord down to reveal a wooden ladder, and then he climbed up into the attic. 

He was met with the customary smell of mildew and rotten wood, with a hint of something reptilian. The sight of armor and old artifacts and pickled monster parts drove the point home. He’d only come up here twice before, and the last time had resulted in Sirius being gravely injured. 

He swallowed as he turned to face the mummified body of the Oracle. 

All at once, she stood up, her mouth opening and pouring out a thick green fog. James felt his heart begin to race.

It wasn’t any less creepy the third time than it had been the first. 

Then the Oracle began to speak—well, in a manner of speaking. More like she spoke into his mind . 

She gave the usual spiel--'I'm the Oracle, blah, blah, blah.'

James waited until she was done, steeling himself before asking, “What is my destiny?”

The mist swirled more thickly, and suddenly he was met with a foggy green imitation of his mother. His heart clenched in his chest at the sight of her. He hadn't seen her in a while, and even the pale green imitation of her face caused a wave of fierce longing to wash over him. He missed her.

With the rasping voice of the Oracle, his mother said: You’ll travel over land and water both, to find the last words a loved one wrote.

He'd have to IM his mum after this to make sure she was okay. He'd never forgive himself if she'd somehow died and he'd only found out later because of some stupid prophecy.

The green mist swirled and shifted until James was now staring at his father—not Apollo, but the mortal man who had raised him—as the Oracle said: You’ll seek the echo, the voice long past. You’ll reveal the future, both open and cast.

Was this just going to be a slideshow of all of the people he missed the most?

Again, the fog changed form, this time morphing into Remus: The brothers shall mend what once was torn, In Sun and Moon’s light, the past is reborn.

Sirius replaced Remus to say: The Dog guides the way when all seems lost, but knowledge comes at a very steep cost.

That also didn't sound great. James could only hope it was a cost he'd be willing to pay. 

Finally, the fog took Pandora’s form as the Oracle delivered its last line: Death claims the King, and shadows rise. But Fate endures, and love survives.

Then the green mist dissolved, and the mummy was once more motionless in its seat, leaving James standing in the cluttered attic once more. 

He exhaled shakily, his mind reeling from the prophecy as he made his way back downstairs to where Chiron, Marlene, and Pandora were waiting. 

His throat caught slightly at the sight of Pandora, whose face he’d just seen swirling in mist, speaking with the Oracle’s voice. The real Pandora's face was familiar--warm, if a little tired--but the immediate contrast and the raspy echo of the Oracle's voice were unsettling, to say the least.

He shuddered a bit, tearing his gaze away from her.

Mr. D must have joined them while he’d been in the attic because he was sitting next to Pandora at the table, an open soda can in his hand. It was hard to tell through his sunglasses, but James thought the god of wine might even be asleep.

The other three were far less relaxed, though, faces tense with worry as they looked at him.

“Well?” Marlene asked, her voice tight. “What did she say?”

James shook his head. “It was kind of a lot,” he admitted. “Longer than the others I’ve received.”

He didn’t miss the look Chiron and Pandora shared at that.

“What does that mean?” Marlene asked worriedly, but no one answered her, because none of them knew.

“What did the Oracle say exactly, James?” Chiron pressed. 

James took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He thought back to a moment ago, fighting to recall the exact words. “It said…it said I would travel over land and water both to find the last words a loved one wrote.”

He let out a shaky exhale. He had though the same back in the attic, but it sounded even worse on the ground floor when he wasn't surrounded by creepy green mist. The last words a loved one wrote? Was someone he loved going to die? Had they already?

Marlene placed a grounding hand on his shoulder, and Chiron gestured to him to go on.

“It said I’d seek the echo, the voice long past, and I’d reveal the future, both open and cast.”

Chiron and Pandora shared a grim look at that, and James realized they already knew what that meant. 

“What?” James asked, glancing between them. 

They shared another look, and finally Pandora said, “We’ll tell you in a moment. What was the rest?”

James hesitated for a moment, a bit frustrated by that answer, but her face was open and honest, so he dutifully shared all of the Oracle’ words with them.

The third group of lines seemed to make them relax a bit—mending what was torn and the past being reborn—although James wasn’t sure how the past being reborn could be a good thing. It rarely ever was. That's why people studied history in the first place, wasn't it? So they didn't repeat the same mistakes in the future. 

When he got to the line about Death taking the King, though, Pandora jerked violently in her seat, all traces of color draining from her face. 

James watched as she closed her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek.

Well, that didn’t bode well. What kind of reaction was that?

“What does it all mean, Chiron?” he asked helplessly, although he knew the centaur was unlikely to hold all of the answers.

Chiron shook his head, as James had expected. “The meaning of a prophecy is rarely ever clear until its events have already passed,” he said. “But,” he continued, “Pandora’s vision may provide us with a clue as to what you are looking for.”

What was he looking for? ‘The words of a loved one’ or ‘the echo?’

James turned to Pandora expectantly. When she finally opened her eyes again, they were wet and rimmed red. When she spoke, her voice sounded hollow; “You seek the Echo of Delos.”

James’ eyebrows raised in surprise. Delos? That was the birthplace of Apollo—of his father, and his father’s sister. It was all the way across the ocean, in Greece. And he’d never heard of an ‘Echo of Delos,’ anyway.

Chiron saw the look on his face. “The Echo has been lost for many years,” he said. “It is believed to be the first and last prophecy ever spoken by Apollo himself before he took his seat on Olympus.”

Ah. ‘The last words a loved one wrote,’ then. So at least no one he loved was dying, then. 

“So I have to find the prophecy?” James asked. “How am I supposed to do that if it’s been lost for so long?” 

Pandora looked up at him. “When the Echo of Delos was made, the gods feared it so much that they tried to destroy it,” she said. “But it was too late, and it couldn’t truly disappear. Smashed into pieces, the gods hid the shards away, hoping it wouldn’t come to pass if no one could find it and read it.”

James stared at her, his mind struggling to process what she was saying.

The idea of a prophecy so powerful or so dangerous that the gods feared it made James’ stomach curl with unease. The last prophecy like that hadn’t ended well—at least, not for the Titans. 

“So, you’re saying this Echo…it’s scattered in pieces?” he asked. Pandora nodded. “And I have to find all of these pieces?” She nodded again.

Great. Just great. Why couldn't anything ever be easy?

“Each piece contains a part of the prophecy,” Pandora said. “Only by reuniting them can the full message be revealed.”

James rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache forming. This was just getting more complicated by the moment. Honestly, he didn't know why he'd expected anything different. “And how, exactly, am I supposed to find these pieces? Do we even know where any of them are?”

Mr. D cut in, speaking for the first time since James had entered the room. “Of course not, John,” he said derisively. “The whole point is that you’re not supposed to know where they are.”

James studied him for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. “You’re a god,” James began slowly.

“What an astute observation,” Mr. D said drily, taking a swig from his soda can.

“Do you know where any of the shards are?” James continued, undeterred. If anyone did, it would be a god. 

Mr. D stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable behind his sunglasses. “No,” he said shortly. “There’s only eight shards, and I wasn’t tasked with clean up duty.”

“Eight?” Well, that wasn’t too bad. James had been picturing scouring the world with a dust broom to sweep up little slivers of prophecy—eight shards was much more manageable.

Mr. D made a noise of affirmation. 

“That at least helps narrow it down a tiny bit,” James admitted. “But where am I even supposed to start looking? They could be anywhere!”

Chiron cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “The prophecy offers some guidance. ‘Travel over land and water’—this suggests that your journey will span many places. Perhaps across the world.”

Yeah, he’d gotten that, thanks. 

“You will need to look for clues,” Chiron continued. “Once you find the first shard, its location might hint as to where the others may be.”

So, like a treasure hunt. A treasure hunt with the added high-stake possibility of death-by-monster. Lovely.

Mr. D cleared his throat. “Start at the Met,” he said. All eyes turned to look at him. “Ask for a ‘Mr. D.’ Not me, obviously, but I know a guy there—did me a favor once a while back. He’s obsessed with prophecies—it’s unhealthy, really. But if anyone can help you, he can.”

With that, he stood up, crumpled his soda can in his fist, and strode from the room.

James stared after him for a moment. 

“Well, that was surprisingly helpful,” Marlene commented. 

James snorted. But the humor didn’t last long before the weight of what was to come settled back on his shoulders. 

Chiron must have seen something in his face because he said, “It will be a dangerous and demanding journey. One that will test you and your chosen companions in many ways. But there is hope in those final words, James. You must remember that.”

But Fate endures and love survives.

Chiron had a point, he realized. That didn’t sound too bad. The line before it, though…

“And what about the rest of it?" he pressed, his voice tinged with desperation. "What does 'Death claims the King' mean? Who’s the King?"

James noticed the way Pandora’s eyes widened and she turned her face away from him. See? That was exactly why he was worried. There was no way that was a good sign.

"We don’t know yet," Chiron admitted. James would wager a guess Pandora had an idea, though. "But prophecies often have double meanings. It could refer to a literal king or to something more symbolic."

James clenched his fists, frustration bubbling up inside him. "That’s not very reassuring."

A king dying on his quest, shadows rising…that wasn’t exactly a lovely rendition of the future. 

James looked back at Pandora, but her gaze was fixed on the table in front of her. James wondered if she was even still with them, mentally, or if her mind had travelled elsewhere. To a king, perhaps.

“We will help you as much as we can," Chiron said, drawing James’ attention away from Pandora again. 

Marlene nodded. “I’ll come with you, James. You—”

“No!” Pandora burst out. All three of them turned to face her in surprise. She curled in on herself a little bit, but she didn’t rescind her words. “It has already been decided by Fate.”

James pressed his lips into a thin line—he was getting real sick of that word being thrown around. “So, who's supposed to go with me then?” he asked, crossing his arms. 

Pandora cleared her throat, glancing away for a moment before looking back at him. “Sirius,” she said finally, “and Regulus.”

James’ brain did a record scratch. He blinked. And then he glared at her. “Sirius has barely even recovered from the last quest, Pandora!” he said angrily, though he knew it wasn’t her fault. “And Regulus is inexperienced and an asshole to boot!”

At that, Pandora’s expression hardened into stone. “Don’t talk about him like that,” she snapped, and James almost took a step back at her tone. 

He’d never, ever heard her sound like that—especially not directed at him. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” James continued to stare at her, eyes wide, and after a moment, she seemed to thaw a bit. “You’ll need both of them for what’s to come, James.”

He decided it wasn’t in his best interest to argue with her, so he just nodded his head slowly. Internally, though, he disagreed. 

Chiron coughed pointedly. “Pandora,” he started cautiously, “are you sure?”

Pandora turned her gaze to Chiron, and there was so much anguish there that James wondered what, exactly, she knew. “The brothers,” she said cryptically, in lieu of an explanation. “The Dog…”

She trailed off, and her words must have meant something to Chiron because the confusion disappeared from his face, dawning understanding only to be replaced with a terrible sadness. “I see.”

James didn’t. He did not see. What the hell was going on? What were they talking about? Was Sirius in danger? Was Regulus? 

He opened his mouth to ask, but Chiron got there first. “The three of you will find the Echo,” he said firmly, leaving no room for protest. “This is their quest, now, as much as yours.”

James gritted his teeth, frustration mounting. “I don’t get it. Why them? Sirius doesn’t deserve to be thrown back in when he’s only just healed. And Regulus…he’s never shown any interest in Sirius, even when he was injured. And he’s his brother!”

Pandora leveled him with a look, but James refused to be cowed this time. “You’ll see, James,” she said, certainty evident in her voice. “Sometimes the ones you least expect have the most to offer.”

James sincerely doubted that. He shook his head, bracing his hands on the table in front him. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “We’re talking about life and death, the fate of the future, and you’re telling me I have to rely on Regulus Black? I don’t know him, and I don’t trust him enough to save my ass if it comes down to it. He hasn’t even been here a month yet! And putting Sirius and Regulus together? That’s a disaster waiting to happen—they can’t even stand to be in the same room together!”

Chiron moved towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Give them a chance, James,” he said. “Regulus has shown a lot of promise in the time he’s been here. And quests have a way of bringing people together. Perhaps it will be good for the brothers to spend some time together.”

James let out a frustrated huff. For some reason, he doubted that. “Fine,” he said, though he wasn’t happy about it. “I’ll go to the Met, talk to Mr. D’s contact. Maybe he’ll give us something concrete to go on.”

Marlene shot him a small smile, and Chiron nodded approvingly. “A wise first step, James,” the centaur said. 

“We’ll leave at first light tomorrow,” he decided. The sooner they got on the road, James thought, the better. 

Chapter Text

Regulus was going to throw up. Or punch someone. Or slit his wrists. Whichever came first—or maybe all three. 

He was still deciding at the moment. 

“You’re joking,” he said flatly, searching Chiron’s face. 

“I am not,” the centaur replied evenly.

Regulus gaped at him. “Are you insane?” Sirius made a noise of protest, but Regulus refused to even acknowledge him. “I’ve only been here three weeks, and you’re telling me I now have to leave and risk my life just because some stupid prophecy mentioned a pair of brothers?”

Did no one hear how insane that sounded?

Frank had woken him up this morning—which had immediately put him in a bad mood, because he was decidedly not a morning person and being shaken awake earlier than necessary definitely didn’t help—telling him he was needed at the Big House. When he’d gotten there, he’d been met with the unwelcome sight of his brother and his brother’s best friend. Pandora had been the only comforting figure in the room, but the look on her face had done absolutely nothing to put him at ease.

Then, they’d dropped the bomb. They expected Regulus—an unclaimed newbie, mind you—to venture off on a quest with his brother and his brother’s best friend because some mummy in the attic had ‘foretold’ it, or whatever. 

“You’re not the only one risking your life for this, Regulus,” his brother snapped. “James and I will be in danger, too—that’s just what being a half-blood is like. Stop being such a coward.”

Regulus flinched, his anger subsiding just enough to register the hit before it rose again. “I have no desire to play the hero, Sirius,” he spat back. “I’m not like you. I don’t care about being a part of some stupid prophecy, I don’t care about fate or your stupid plans! I’m only here in the first place because I’m not exactly keen on being eaten alive by monsters, which is something I’d be risking by going on a quest with you!”

He practically shouted that last part, his chest heaving in frustration. Did they really expect him to be fine with this? To just roll over in submission, say 'Oh, yeah, this makes total sense and isn't insane at all,' and then jog off to face his death with a smile on his face? Yeah, no thanks. 

Pandora, who had been standing to the side, quietly watching him, finally stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Regulus,” she said softly, her voice calm but insistent. “You’re more involved in this than you think. We can’t fully understand it yet, but you do have a role to play.”

Regulus turned to look at her, his eyes stinging suddenly. “You knew?”

He saw the answer on her face, and he suddenly felt a pang of betrayal. It hurt more than it should. He'd thought she was on his side in this. She must have been able to see the thought written in his face, because her face crumpled in pain. 

Her hand tightened on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her eyes wet. Regulus looked away, but he didn’t step out from under her hand. Even angry and hurt, he couldn't push her away. That alone was a scary thought.

“You should have told me,” he said quietly. 

She nodded her head once. “I know.”

It was an admission, if anything, and a kind of apology in its own right.

He swallowed. “I don’t have a choice in this, do I?”

Pandora shook her head, and Regulus’ stomach sank. And that was really all there was to say, wasn't it?

He took a deep breath. Resignedly, he looked up, meeting Chiron’s gaze. “Fine. Whatever. When do we leave?

“Tomorrow,” the centaur replied evenly. “At first light.”

Regulus let out a sardonic laugh. Of fucking course. “Great,” he snapped. “Wonderful. Don’t talk to me until then.” His brother’s friend made to protest, but Regulus cut him off. “That’s my condition. I’ll be here at sunrise tomorrow. Don’t bother me until then.”

With that, he turned sharply on his heel, leaving the others and the Big House behind.

*** 

Surprisingly, his wishes were respected, and no one came to bother him the whole time he moped in the woods. 

Part of him was grateful—most of him, actually. The cool darkness of the forest, the birdsong drifting down to him from the treetops, the sounds of a babbling creek nearby and the rustling of leaves in the breeze—all of it was far more preferable than words would have been.

A small part of him, though—the one that had broken long ago—pathetically wished that someone would come after him. Evan, Barty—even Pandora, who he was still angry with hours later—maybe their presence could have offered a small measure of comfort. 

They didn’t appear, though, and Regulus sat alone. Even as the sun began to set and the shadows around him lengthened, he didn’t move. He’d never been afraid of the dark—he’d always found it comforting. If no one could see him, then no one could hurt him.

But he didn’t hold the same fondness for the cold, and without the heat of the day, the air around him grew chilly, making him shiver. 

He stood up, dusting off his jeans and wandering off through the woods. He wasn’t ready to face anyone yet, and he was even less ready to face what tomorrow would bring, so instead of heading back to the main camp, he found himself walking along the beach. 

He unlaced his shoes, sinking barefoot into the cool, damp sand, watching at the waves crested and crashed against the shore. Just days ago, he’d been playing around in the water with people he’d come to call friends. How much had changed, in such a short span of time.

Thankfully, the rhythmic sound of the waves offered a strange sense of comfort, like a song the ocean was singing just for him. 

He stretched his eyes out past where the waves met the shore, taking in the expanse of the ocean. The water that had whetted the sand beneath his toes may have traveled anywhere else in the world. The vastness of the ocean made him feel a bit silly, suddenly—his own worries insignificant in the face of the ancient, enormous force of nature. 

He sat down on the beach, the dampness of the sand soaking into his jeans. 

Why was he so resistant to the idea of this quest? He’d said it was because he didn’t want to get eaten, but that was really only partially true—three weeks ago, he’d been considering the merits of just letting the giants have him, and even before that, he’d never really put much stock in staying alive. If he died, he died—why put in the effort to change that, or to speed it up?

Maybe he just didn’t want to leave so soon. He’d grown fond of Camp Half-Blood in the time he’d been here—fond of the people, the woods, the ocean, and even the crazy activities they were expected to participate in. 

Part of it could definitely be attributed to the fact that his brother was also going on the quest, and Regulus wasn’t sure he had the strength to face him. He’d been avoiding him as much as he could, and if that wasn’t possible, Regulus had implemented the silent treatment instead. 

What else could he do? He had nothing nice to say to Sirius, and if they actually got around to talking, Regulus feared he might do something embarrassing like cry and ask why Sirius had left him. And Sirius had never been gentle—kind, yes, at least towards the beginning. But the soft one had always been Regulus—it was part of why their parents— Regulus’ parents, he thought sickly—had always favored Sirius, despite his loudness and propensity for rule-breaking.

That same strength that he’d always admired in Sirius had become something he hated when it had been turned on him. In the nights before he’d left, in the venom his brother spit whenever they were in the same room even now…

No, Sirius wasn’t gentle or soft. He didn’t pull his punches when he was in the ring. He was the strong one, the one who stood up to their parents, who did his best to protect Regulus when he wouldn’t protect himself. 

It was left to Regulus to patch them both up in the end when their parents’ anger won out. And after three years, Regulus wasn’t sure he remembered how anymore…he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. 

It was almost completely dark when the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears, the only light coming from the crescent moon overhead and its reflection on the water. He didn’t look away from the water to see who it was as they sat down in the sand beside him—after so many weeks of training on the sand, he’d grown familiar with the sound of their footsteps.

“You didn’t show up for training today,” Dorcas said quietly after a while, and Regulus almost laughed.

“Can you blame me?” he retorted, his eyes still on the horizon.

She cut him a sideways glance. “Training is even more important right before a quest.”

Regulus let out an annoyed huff, flinging himself backwards into the sand. His Mother would be absolutely appalled by his behavior, and he felt a nasty sense of satisfaction at the thought. 

She watched him for a long moment, her gaze steady and unwavering. “You can be angry, Regulus. You can hate it. But you can’t run from it.”

Regulus clenched his jaw, the words settling uncomfortably in his chest. That was such a child of Ares thing to say, and Regulus thought he might appreciate it more if it didn’t resonate so much with what his brother had said earlier: coward .

He didn’t reply, just turned his head away, staring back at the horizon as if he could follow the sun where it had sunk.

Dorcas didn’t push further. She sat with him in companionable silence, watching the waves while he watched the moon. Regulus appreciated that about Dorcas—she knew when to speak and when to just be.

After a long moment, she rustled around a bit, pulling out a paper-wrapped package from her jacket. 

“Here,” she said, holding it out to him. 

He sat up slowly, carefully taking it in his hands, giving her a questioning look. 

She shrugged. “I was going to give them to you at training today, but you didn’t show up, so I had to hunt you down instead.” 

Regulus stared at the package in his hands. The wrapping job was just awful, some of the paper ripped in places with random, crumpled bits of tape trying to hold it together—it looked as if someone had tried to wrap it, gotten angry, and then just thrown a bunch of tape on it and called it a day. 

He felt the corners of his mouth lift up in amusement at the sight. 

“Say,” he said teasingly, “did you wrap this yourself?”

In the moonlight, he could make out the rolling of her eyes as she punched him in the shoulder. “Just open it, smart-ass.”

Regulus let out a small chuckle, but he obeyed, tearing the paper open with far more gentleness than its wrap job deserved.

“Oh,” he exhaled softly as he finally tore all the paper away. “Wow.”

He looked up at her, but Dorcas’ gaze was resolutely fixed on the ocean. “It’s customary to give a camper their own weapon when they go on their first quest,” she said by way of explanation.

Looking back down, he turned the dagger over in his hands. It was one of a pair, its twin resting in an unassuming leather sheath. The blade in his hands gleamed faintly in the moonlight, the yellow tint of the Celestial Bronze just barely visible. The hilt was wrapped in dark leather, twined expertly so as to leave no gaps. He ran a finger over the carving that sat just below where the blade met the handle--his constellation, the Regulus star set slightly deeper into the metal than the others.

A lump swelled in his throat. 

Regulus traced his thumb along the edge of the blade, feeling its sharpness. He gave it an experimental twirl, feeling the way the hilt slotted perfectly into his palm, the way the weight felt just right. It was clear she’d taken the time to get every little detail right—he wasn’t sure how she knew his exact palm size, or the right weight to make it with, but she’d done a masterful job.

He wasn’t sure what to say—a thank you felt too small, and neither of them were really huggers. 

“It’s…beautiful,” he finally decided, his voice a bit thick. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”

More than perfect. 

Dorcas nodded. “You’ve gotten good with a sword, Reg,” she said in response. “And I think you should still take one with you. But you’re much more suited to dual-wielding, and daggers will be deadly in your hands.”

He hoped not—he didn’t really want to kill anyone, honestly. Not even monsters. 

But he nodded appreciatively anyway. “Thanks.”

She turned to look at him then, placing one of her hands over his. “You’ve got to be ready,” she said, her moonlit eyes searching his face. “You’ll need them out there. You’re more skilled than you give yourself credit for, Regulus.”

He looked at her in surprise, and she gripped his hand tighter.

“You need to learn to let go—get out of your own head,” she continued. “You’re always so focused on doing what I’ve taught you that you forget to think for yourself. So just don’t think. Let your instincts take over—it sounds sort of counterintuitive, but you’ll be a better fighter for it.”

Regulus nodded, speechless. 

Don’t think. Yeah, right. Regulus was only ever thinking, thinking, and then overthinking. 

“I’m serious,” she said, squeezing his hand. “If you don’t come back alive, I’ll haul ass to the Underworld just to kill you myself.”

He gave her a small salute and a grin, which she followed with a smile of her own.

“You’re such a loser,” she said, laughing softly. 

“Yeah, but so are you,” he said happily. “That’s why we’re friends.”

He froze. Were they friends? He saw her almost as frequently as he saw Pandora, and they seemed to get along well enough, but—

He was interrupted by a hard flick on his forward. He reached a hand up to rub at the spot before glaring at the perpetrator. 

“Stop thinking,” Dorcas said firmly. Then, more softly, “Yeah. We’re friends.”

Regulus gave her a small smile, which she returned. 

“I know you’re worried about your brother,” she said then, and his smile vanished as fast as it had appeared. “Don’t. While you’re out there, focus on yourself—on staying alive, and maybe also keeping those other two idiots alive as well. Don’t let your emotions get in the way, or it’ll get you killed. Save the heartfelt confessions and brotherly love until you get back.”

Regulus glared at her. He supposed it was solid advice, but the last bit was really just too much. “Hey, Dorcas,” he started.

“What?”

“I’ve got this fancy new pair of daggers, you know,” he said casually. “You want to test them out?”

Instead of the rolling of eyes he was expecting, he was met with an evil grin. 

“Thought you’d never ask,” she said, pulling herself to her feet and then looking at him expectantly.

He sighed. He’d just asked a child of Ares to fight with him—he really shouldn’t have expected anything else.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take James long to pack. He’d barely even unpacked from his last quest, and either way, he rarely ever brought more than the bare essentials—Remus and Peter had always been the over-packers, bags stuffed with random things they probably didn’t need, 'just in case.'

Briefly, James wondered if he shouldn’t follow their lead this time—Sirius packed much the same way he did, and he couldn’t picture Regulus as the ‘always prepared’ type. 

He shook his head. Thanks to his parents, he’d have the money to use if they ever needed to buy anything extra. Which, actually, now that he was thinking about it, made him sound super spoiled. Money was money, though--and it was dead useful on quests. Besides, traveling light had served him well so far—he saw no need to change that now, especially given the gravity of their quest.

Failure wasn’t an option this time.

Not that it had been last time, of course--James was admittedly a bit of a perfectionist. But the stakes were much higher this time. Chiron hadn't said it, but James wasn't an idiot--the fate of Olympus could be riding on this. 

He slung his bag on his shoulder, the weight of it and shape of the straps far too familiar to be comfortable with. He took one last glance around the cabin to ensure he didn’t leave anything necessary behind—not that there was much to leave. 

James was usually just a summer camper, so he never stayed long enough for his pile of things to accumulate beyond normal summer camp level, despite the fact that this place sometimes felt more like home than the house he grew up in.

He loved his parents, don’t get him wrong—by all rights, they were the brightest spots in his life. Despite the…specifics of his conception, his mum and dad were really the only people he knew that felt untouched by everything that came with being a half-blood. They knew, of course they knew, how could they not, but they didn’t hold the same heaviness he did, they didn’t have the paranoia that death was breathing down his neck and would be catching up to him any minute now.

The problem was that, after everything he’d gone through, he felt a bit…tainted with it. Heavy, like a stone had grown inside him, weighing him down. And he refused to let his parents see that. They always knew how to read him—his mum especially—even better than Sirius, Remus, or Peter ever could, and he could tell that seeing the toll life was taking on him hurt them. 

He refused to hurt them. 

So he went to boarding school, and then he went to camp, and he rarely ever went home. He wrote to his parents often, he Iris-messaged when he could, and he refused to let anyone see that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t perfectly okay.

He felt like he had started to slip on that a bit ever since the last quest, since Sirius had been hurt. Despite Remus and Peter’s—and later Sirius’—assurances, the guilt had gnawed at him until it had left a bit of a hole. 

Unfortunately, he had very low hopes that this new quest would do absolutely anything to fix that. 

With a sigh, he stepped out of the Apollo cabin, into the early morning, leaving the resting forms of his half-siblings behind. The air was cool, the grass wet with dew and the sun just beginning to rise, the sky starting to turn from a boring grey to a dusty pink. 

James loved watching the sunrise. It was like watching his Father, like the warmth of the coming sun might really be the warmth of his Father’s gaze or his proud smile. 

He probably wouldn’t be able to see it this morning, though. Not fully, at least.

Camp was quiet, despite the fact that everyone knew today was quest day. In true Camp Half-blood fashion, though, everyone had said their goodbyes the night before. 

Well, almost everyone, that is.

James felt a small grin break out onto his face as he took in the forms of Remus, Peter, and Marlene waiting for him at the foot of Half-Blood Hill. He jogged over to them, suddenly feeling much lighter in their presence than he had moments earlier.

“About time,” Marlene called out as he approached. “Thought you’d gotten lost.”

James rolled his eyes, even as his grin widened. “Me? Lost? Are you sure that’s not Pete you’re talking about there, Marls?”

Peter scowled playfully at that. “I would have you know, that as a child of Hermes, I, in fact, rarely ever get lost.”

James chuckled, and Marlene rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you snot,” his half-sister said, but it sounded fond. 

Remus stepped forward, his expression softer than the others, a mixture of worry and pride. He'd understandably been very angry with James when he'd found out about the quest--more specifically, when he'd found out that he wouldn't be going on it--but Chiron had helped convince him, and once his anger was gone, all that was left this: worry for James' safety and well-being, pride for his bravery and what completing the quest would mean.

"We wanted to see you off. You know, make sure you don't forget anything important," he said.

James raised an eyebrow, the teasing grin never leaving his face. "What, like my toothbrush? I’m not Sirius, you know."

“Oi! I heard that!”

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. 

James turned with a smile as he watched Sirius jog leisurely over to them, his own bag over his back, his sword strapped to his hip. He’d have to shrink it down once they got to civilization, but James knew Sirius felt the weight of his blade at his hip like a comfort, a reassurance, so he didn’t mention it. 

“That was the point, you idiot,” James teased, a shit-eating grin on his face. He grunted as he got a hard whack in the side for that.

Remus shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Peter didn’t bother to hide his laugh at the faux look of outrage on Sirius’ face, and Marlene just rolled her eyes, muttering something about boys. 

“No maiming before the quest has even started, boys,” came a new voice, and James turned to see Lily shaking her head in false disappointment as she and Mary approached them.

“Aw, way to take all the fun out of it, Red,” Sirius bemoaned, with a dramatic crossing of his arms. 

James laughed and immediately proceeded to go against Lily’s orders to whack Sirius in the arm.

“All packed and ready then, Jamie boy?” Mary asked once she and Lily had reached them.

James gave her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but her lips twitched a bit, and James grinned. 

“You’ve got your bow?” Marlene asked, eyes searching his figure as if she could find it. 

Their dad—Apollo—had given James his own bow and quiver of arrows for his first quest. James had immediately fallen in love with them and practically hadn’t put them down since. They were in their dormant form now, though, so no matter how hard Marlene looked, she wouldn’t be able to see them.

“Yes, mum,” James teased, and she glared at him. 

“Fuck off, I’m just making sure,” she grumbled.

James’ grin softened a bit. “I know, I know. Thanks, really.”

Marlene shrugged, though her eyes softened. "Just come back in one piece, alright? We’ll be here waiting."

“Don’t worry, Marls,” came Sirius drawl, “I’ll keep him out of trouble.”

She snorted at that. “More like you’ll jump into trouble with him.”

Sirius shrugged, grinning at her. “Potato, tomato.”

Marlene mumbled a fond ‘idiot’ under her breath, which only served to make Sirius smile wider. His eyes glanced minutely to the side, then, and his smile vanished completely, replaced by a signature scowl that alerted James to the arrival of Sirius’ younger brother. 

He turned to see Regulus making his way towards them, in step with Pandora, who was practically attached to his side and speaking to him in low tones.  Regulus’ expression was serious, completely void of any levity, and James was once again hit by the stark contrast between this Regulus and the one he’d seen on the beach a few days ago. If he put the two different Reguluses side-by-side, he'd probably second-guess whether or not they were even the same person. 

Strangely, Pandora’s face was also serious, her usual soft look completely absent. James frowned at his half-sister in concern, but she was too busy talking to Regulus to notice. Once the two got closer, though, their conversation died, and Pandora’s severity was wiped from her face completely.

He blinked at the change. In the past few days, he'd seen sides of his half-sister he'd never seen before. A bit bitterly, he wondered if he really knew her at all.

“Good morning,” she greeted cheerfully once she’d reached them.

Regulus didn’t say a word, although he gave Lily a civil nod, which she returned. 

James glanced between them curiously, wondering when, exactly, that had happened. He supposed Lily had mentioned him earlier, but he hadn't known they'd been civil enough with each other to the point that Regulus would acknowledge her over his own brother. Though, he thought, perhaps he shouldn't be surprised. Regulus would probably acknowledge anyone over his brother, if given the chance.

“Morning, Pandora,” Mary greeted back cheerfully, before turning a teasing grin to Regulus. “Good to see you all bright and cheerful, baby Black.”

Sirius scoffed at that, mumbling something under his breath, but he largely went ignored. 

“Mary,” Regulus replied evenly. “It would’ve been good to see you, too, but then you had to open your mouth.”

James sucked in a breath, glancing at Mary in anticipation, ready to intervene if needed. Something like that would usually warrant at least a right-hook to the face from her. But then she did the last thing he was expecting—she tilted her head back and laughed, fully and openly. 

“Oh, but how could I resist?” Mary said breathlessly. “You’ve got such a tease-able face.”

Regulus scowled.

James stared at Mary in disbelief. A tease-able face? Regulus’ face was usually emotionless, annoyed, or threatening violence. There was nothing tease-able about him. In fact, James was surprised Mary was still standing.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Regulus drawled, and James shivered at the tone. “You, on the other hand, have a very punchable face, Macdonald.”

Mary just grinned in response, and James stared at her in disbelief. She was always fond of fighting—not unexpected from a child of Ares—but James had to wonder if she’d gone insane in the few weeks he’d been off on his quest.

“You’d have to be fast enough to catch me first,” she sing-songed.

Regulus just raised an eyebrow. “I am,” was all he said, and it wasn't prideful or bragging or cocky--he stated it like it was a fact. 

Mary rolled her eyes, but she still had a smile on her face. “Aw, the baby’s all grown up. You’re no fun anymore—I miss when you could barely pick up a sword.”

James stared between them, at a loss for words. When the hell had this happened? Were they friends? That's what this was, wasn't it? What the fuck.

Regulus scoffed. “And whose fault is that?”

“Hey, I’m only partially responsible,” Mary said, shrugging. “Most of the blame falls on Dorcas.”

“I’m sure Cas would be happy to hear that,” Regulus responded evenly, and Mary scowled.

James raised his eyebrows at the nickname. It had taken James two years before he’d been allowed to nickname Dorcas Meadowes without her threatening to cut his…well, without threatening his prospects of having biological children in the future. 

Regulus had only been here three weeks. 

Just then, Chiron appeared over the hill, calling out to them.

James felt his stomach sink a bit. This was it. They were really doing this.

He glanced around at his friends, finding them all looking at each other in apprehension. 

Remus shot him an encouraging smile, though it wasn’t as effective as it would’ve been had it not been tinged with worry.

Mary’s smile had disappeared, a serious look on her face as she said, “Good luck.”

Lily surged forward to wrap him in a tight hug, and James had barely managed to reciprocate before she moved on to Sirius. 

“You’ll be okay, James,” Peter said encouragingly. “You’ve got it in the bag, don’t worry.”

James returned his smile weakly. “Right.”

Marlene patted him on the shoulder, drawing his attention. “You better come back alive, asshole,” she said seriously, “or I swear to the gods I will hunt your ass down just to kick it myself.”

James grinned a bit at that. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

She gave him a curt nod. “Good.”

Pandora, who had just been with Regulus, turned to him, grabbing his hands with her own. “You’ll be okay,” she said, searching his eyes, and James felt himself relax minutely. “Take care of them, but make sure you take care of yourself, too.”

James nodded.

“We’ll be here when you get back,” Remus assured them. “Make sure you do come back.”

“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Lupin,” Sirius grinned, and James fought back a smile. Flirting even now. Honestly, Sirius was hopeless. And hopelessly in love. Maybe once they returned from this, the two of them would finally suck it up and get together. 

He shook his head in amusement, hiking his backpack up over his shoulder. “See you in a minute, guys,” he said, beginning the walk up the hill. 

“In a minute,” they chorused back. 

Sirius gave them all a goodbye wave, falling into step beside him, and together they climbed the hill, Regulus quietly trailing behind them.  When they reached the top of the hill, James took a moment to look back. 

The sun had crept a bit higher over the horizon, casting the camp in an early morning light. His friends still stood at the bottom of the hill, staring after them. He gave them a brief wave. 

He wondered how long it would take until he’d see them all again— if he’d see them all again.

“Coming, James?” he heard Sirius ask from behind him.

He took a deep breath. After releasing it, he said, “Yeah, of course.” 

On the other side of the hill Chiron waited beside the car, talking with Argus, who would be driving them into the city. From there, they’d go to the Met to search out Mr. D’s ‘Mr. D.’ And after that? Well. James could only guess. 

***

To say the car ride was awkward was an understatement. James found himself making eye-contact with more than one of Argus’ eyes in the rearview mirror multiple times, sharing a moment of miserable camaraderie in the loaded silence of the Black brothers. 

It was worse for James, because he was sitting in the backseat with a brooding Sirius, which meant he could see every single glare Sirius shot towards the passenger seat. Honestly, there had nearly been a full-out brawl over who would be in the front. James had immediately been ruled out, because there was no way he was letting Sirius and Regulus sit together—he wasn’t sure they’d make it to the Met in one piece if they did. 

Regulus hadn’t made a fuss about it, just opening the passenger-side door and sliding in, which immediately set Sirius off. James wasn’t even sure that Sirius actually even cared about riding shotgun—he was probably just pissed that his little brother had immediately taken it.

If James was being honest, though, he thought it was the best arrangement anyway. If Sirius had been in the front seat, James would have had to sit next to Regulus, which would have been uncomfortable for both of them in addition to making Sirius jealous. If James had sat in the front seat, the brothers would have killed each other within the first two minutes. 

This way, Sirius and James could sit together while keeping the brothers apart, so despite Sirius’ grumbling, James had not come to his best friend's rescue and had just immediately taken his spot in the backseat. 

There had been nothing but awkward silence ever since, and James was starting to get antsy. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, bouncing his knee and drumming his fingers along to the rhythm on his other leg. He stared out the window, watching as the trees began to thin. They’d be there soon, but not soon enough, in James’ opinion. 

“So…” he started, clearing his throat awkwardly. “This is exciting.”

Sirius gave a dry snort from beside him. Regulus, staring out of the passenger window, didn’t react. 

“Anyone up for a game of I-Spy?” he asked hopefully. 

Sirius shot him an incredulous look. Regulus didn’t react. 

“I’ll go first,” he said, clearing his throat again. “I-Spy…something green.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “If it’s a tree, James, I’m gonna hit you.”

It was, in fact, a tree. “What? No, it’s not a tree.”

“A bush.”

“No.”

“The grass?”

“Nope!”

A pause. Sirius turned to glare at him. “It’s not Reggie’s shirt.”

James froze. From the passenger seat, Regulus stiffened, his spine straightening slightly. 

“Er…” James trailed off, his eyes darting to Argus for help. Argus just blinked half of his eyes, the others focused on the road. “No?”

He didn’t sound convincing, even to his own ears. 

Regulus was, in fact, wearing a long-sleeve shirt in a mossy green color. How he was still wearing long-sleeves at the start of summer was beyond James—it was like the guy was immune to warmth. Which, James thought, would make sense given his frosty personality. 

Sirius’ jaw clenched. “Fine,” he gritted out. “My turn.”

James held his breath. This was probably not going to be good.

“I-Spy a pretentious asshole.”

Called it.

James’ eyes darted nervously to the passenger seat. “Okay,” he tried to intervene, “maybe we should—”

“Oh, you don’t know the answer?” Sirius interrupted, his voice mean. “That’s okay, I’ll help you—his name is Regulus Black.”

James winced. “I don’t think—”

“Since you didn’t get it, I’ll just go again,” Sirius continued. “I’ll give you an easier one this time. How about… I-Spy with my little eye a fucking coward.”

Regulus flinched visibly at that. 

James coughed uncomfortably. “Why don’t we—”

“No, no, James, it’s Reggie’s turn to guess,” Sirius interrupted again. “What do you think, Reggie, huh?”

James was watching Regulus nervously, so he saw the tick in his jaw. After a brief moment of silence, James felt a flash of relief at the thought that Regulus would just ignore Sirius, but then he opened his mouth and said, “Let me guess. Does his name start with Sirius, and end with Black? From what I’ve heard, he’s very good at running away.”

His tone was bored—lazy, even—but his stiff posture betrayed him. He wasn't completely unruffled by this, it seemed.

Sirius’ eyes flashed angrily. “At least I had the guts to leave,” he spat, words laced with venom, “instead of laying down like a doormat and obeying their every command.”

Regulus was silent for a moment. “It’s almost funny, really,” Regulus started, voice frosty enough to make James shiver, “how confidently wrong you can be.”

He didn’t say anything else, and James saw how off-balance Sirius became in the absence of a return jibe. 

He didn’t seem ready to give up, though. In fact, James felt that his best friend was itching for a fight. “Oh yeah? Please, enlighten me then, Regulus. What noble cause were you fighting for while acting the perfect little puppet?”

That got a reaction. James watched as Regulus' eyes flashed angrily in the rear-view mirror, glaring at Sirius with so much fire that James fought the urge to lean back a bit. 

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” Regulus asked, tone cold even as his voice vibrated with anger. “But you don’t know shit. You left, Sirius. You don’t get to judge from the outside when you have no idea what it’s like on the inside anymore.” He turned his gaze back to the window, and muttered, “You were gone long before you left, anyway.”

Sirius blanched at that for a second before the anger reared its head once more. “And why the fuck would I stay? To become a good little soldier like you? I got out because I wasn’t about to spend my life bending over backward for people who couldn’t care less about me!” 

His voice was raw with emotion, his anger barely masking the hurt underneath. James fought the urge to reach for his best friend’s hand, but an angry Sirius was the only Sirius that didn’t desire touch.

Instead of fighting back, Regulus just let out a tired sigh. “You still don’t get it, Sirius,” he said, the anger gone from his voice, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion, and if James was reading it right, an incredible sorrow. 

“I don’t get it?” Sirius screeched, in near hysterics. “I lived it, you little asshole. You don’t get to tell me what I don’t get.”

Regulus scoffed. “You only ever lived it with me, Sirius,” he spat. “You have no fucking idea what it was like alone.”

The implication there made James’ stomach turn a little, but he didn’t have enough time to think it over too deeply because Sirius was already spitting his reply.

“You should have left, then! But no! Little Reggie, Mummy and Daddy’s favorite. Too scared to break away, too scared to stand up for what’s right!"

James watched as Regulus flinched from the words as if they were a physical blow. He watched in real time as the pain registered on his face for a moment before all emotion was eradicated entirely—nothing left except empty, dead eyes.

James felt the temperature in the car drop by two degrees at the sight, the hair on his arms raising slightly.

He knew instinctively then that whatever Regulus said next was going to hurt. 

“You ran because you couldn't handle it,” Regulus said, his tone as emotionless as the rest of him. “I stayed because I could.”

Sirius surged forward, but James quickly placed a firm hand on his chest, holding him back. 

“Hey,” James said firmly, pushing Sirius’s chest until he was back in his seat. “Stop, both of you.”

He cut Regulus’ figure a look, but apparently, he wasn’t done.

James felt dread rise in his gut as Regulus raised his dead eyes to meet Sirius’ in the rear-view mirror—there wasn’t a hint of life within them. “It’s a useless argument, anyway. You’re no longer a Black. You may still be breathing, Sirius, but to me? You died the minute you left.”

James felt the weight of the words like a punch to the gut, and his heart broke a bit at the horror on Sirius's face. 

This was no longer about petty sibling rivalry—not that it ever really had been, but before it had been contained to glares and whispered insults. This, though? This was a deep, festering wound between the two brothers, laid bare in the cramped space of the car. 

"Alright, enough!" James barked, his voice coming out slightly louder than he intended. "If you two keep this up, I’m throwing you both out of the car and you can walk the rest of the way."

Neither brother responded, both going back to staring resolutely out their respective windows.

James let out a slow breath, glancing between the two of them. "Thank you," he muttered, settling back into his seat. "Now, let’s all act like adults for five more minutes until we get there, yeah?"

The silence settled in again, but this time, James didn’t bother to break it.