Regulus woke, gasping and reaching frantically about for his wand. He'd been an idiot for thinking about Orion Black's inferius the day before - absolute idiot! He clutched the wand in his fist, heart beating so hard he thought it might come right out of him, like a horribly grotesque cuckoo clock.

Easier for Voldemort to eat it, I suppose, Regulus thought. He shuddered at the thought. What if... what if Voldemort really did ever catch up to him? Would he make Regulus one of those awful horcruxes, too, like Alabaster?

He got up and walked through the safe house, checking all the windows and doors, peering outside. It was dark, but he could just see the sparkle of the starlight reflecting off the snow, and the sea beyond the cliff.

He thought of kelpie eggs, and school, and Oni.

The thought of Oni made his stomach churn.

What would she be thinking about now? She who had see what happened to defectors before? Would she recognize the sudden disappearance for what it was?

He pictured how he would feel if the tables were turned, if it was her that had gone suddenly missing from school, no trace and no word.

He felt cold thinking of it.

Cold because losing the things he loved was something he associated with the feeling of biting, ice-coldness...

"In cold blood, as they say."

And suddenly Oni was no long who he was thinking of.

"Do you know what love is? Answer me boy."

Regulus's fingers gripped tightly onto the window sill through which he now stared at the glistening on the sea. His knuckles were pale and white from the pressure of his grip.

"Love, Regulus, is weakness.... and if you do not kill love... you will be killed by love."

The sea glimmered in the distance, and under the stars, it suddenly seemed teal.

Teal like her hair.

It had hung about his face like a privacy screen that night in Diagon Alley. She had leaned over him, looking down into his face, a blurry haze of pale peach skin, wide eyes, and teal hair. "If you could be anywhere in the world right now... where would you be?"

"Here."

She had laughed, and he had noticed how much he liked her nose. He hoped she never changed it. Or anything else for that matter. What a waste of a special ability... why anyone as perfect as Maryrose should be gifted the ability to change... why fate was making a joke of itself, wasn't it?

"You'd be in Diagon Alley. Of all the places in the whole world you could be."

"Diagon Alley doesn't matter. I'd be with you, though. I'd be laying here, under you, like this. I don't want to be anywhere else. Or else nothing else matters about where I am."

She sat up straight. He felt her knees on either side of him, she was straddling him, seated on his abdomen, bent forward, his hands on her hips. Her teal hair fell around her shoulders, messy and tousled, but somehow falling just right, and she smiled at him.

"I would be in Paris. But I'd still be straddling you."

"Why Paris?"

"C'est beau, mon amour."

"Vous êtes plus belle," Regulus answered.

Maryrose's eyes widened and gleamed. "Tu parles françois!"

"Oui. Un peu."

She laughed. "That is incredibly hot."

Regulus showed off, "I also know Latin."

"Smarty pants."

"Pulchra es, et amo te."

She shivered. "What's it mean?"

He smiled. "You're beautiful and I love you."

"You're flirty and charming in multiple languages! Tu es sérieux, ou quoi?"

"Non, mon frère est." He grinned and enjoyed the sound of her laughter.

Then it was back beneath the teal curtain of her hair, her voice low and husky.  "You... are... so... smart," Maryrose bent forward again and started kissing him, punctuating each word with a kiss. "And brave... and handsome... and... I... love... you."

The memory dissolved into teal haze once more... and Regulus was still staring at the sea.

If he could be anywhere right now, it would still be there.

Hearing her say the words I love you.

Instead of reading them from her silenced lips.

I love you, I understand.

"Avada ---"

Regulus shook his head, pushing away from the window of the safe house. He couldn't let himself sink into that memory, he couldn't. It wasn't allowed to play in his head like this. Not again. Not when he was awake to stop it. Wasn't his nightmares enough?

"You took everything I had in me with you," he whispered, as though talking to the swimming visage of Maryrose that continued to loom just behind his eyelids. "Or he did, anyway. Voldemort. He banished my heart into whatever corner of the universe you've been sent off to."

He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand trying to think of what had happened next to her, of where she was now. He couldn't imagine it, couldn't imagine what the soul did when the body was killed. The useless casing that held a person was just that - a casing. He knew he believed that. Maryrose could have been in any body - any body at all - and he would have loved her as fiercely as he did anyway. He loved her now, with no body. She couldn't have simply ceased to exist, it was impossible. She had just changed shape, true to form. She'd gone from tangible and teal haired to -- whatever she was now, wherever she was now.

Cadmus Peverell came to mind then. Not the portrait, per-say, but the story. How Cadmus had asked Death to give him the ability to recall the soul of his lost lover, how he had surrendered to Death because it drove him mad being apart from her. Whatever the soul was, it was just out of reach for a man, but in death it could be reached again.

He closed his eyes and - and what? Was this praying? He wasn't sure, but he murmured, "Please let me see her again someday, my Maryrose."

His hand went to the small round disc about his neck and he held it tight.

"See that it gets back to me."

The words echoed in his mind. He had said them to her, not the other way around, and it held the same vibe as the plea he had now.

See that she gets back to me, or me back to her. Alright? Please. If anyone is out there, if anybody can hear me. It didn't matter where it was - he didn't reckon he cared a lick if it was in Diagon Alley, or Paris, or even the horrid cave of his nightmares, surrounded by inferius - the only place he wanted to be was with her.

By then, the sun was rising and long streaks of light were coming across the sea, painting it brilliant colors of pink and purple and orange. Despite the beauty of it, his mind was still clouded and he felt shaky and unsettled.

Walburga was moving about in her room of the Safe House, soon she would come out and she would be trying to be all motherly and attentive, trying at talking with him and being cheerful in the way she'd been the last week since they'd left Grimmauld Place. That sticky, false feeling cheerful that was meant to make him feel better, but only made him feel worse.

He couldn't deal with it right then.

Gone for an errand, be back soon. R.A.B.

He pulled on his coat and stepped quickly out of the Safe House, running down the hill and out of the reach of the charms, skidding on snow and ice, catching himself just before he fell down against a tree trunk. His breath hung in clouds before him, drifting away, and he stared at the sea for a few more moments before he disapparated away.

He found himself in a village, he wasn't sure why he'd come out where he had, or why. The village wasn't familiar, and he wasn't entirely positive what he had thought about when he disapparated, honestly. He probably ought not to have been able to do it, he realized, and he wondered for a moment why his magic had actually transported him without the Destination, Determination, Deliberation that he ought to have been required to use - yet here he was.

Regulus walked quickly, his coat pulled tight 'round himself, eyes darting about, taking in the village.

Then he saw it.

The motorbike was parked in front of a diner.

He walked up to it, staring at the motorbike. He touched the fender - it was warm from driving. He looked at the diner, and he went inside without thinking about it, eyes glancing about the tables tucked into little booths. He heard the laugh before he saw the face, and his heart leaped into his throat as he turned and spotted his big brother.

The moment he saw Sirius, Regulus knew he had been thinking of nothing but a safe place when he had disapparated.

And here he was.

Sirius was sitting at a booth with Bilius Weasley, both clad in jumpsuits, laughing over mugs of coffee and there was a plate of toast and jam between them.

"---and the miserable old woman doesn't give a rats arse that we hauled ourselves all the way out here sg this forsaken hour just to have her put us off for another couple hours!" Bilius was grumbling as he tore a couple packets of sugar for his coffee, "She doesn't care we lose money in the run of it!"

"At least we get brekky," Sirius said, "Well, second brekky for me. Ever since James left the Ministry he's been ---" he suddenly stopped mid-sentence, eyes landing on Regulus across the diner. He stared.

Bilius Weasley turned around and saw Regulus, too. "Isn't that your brother?"

Sirius stood up.

Regulus walked over, his mouth dry and heart pounding.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius asked.

Regulus stood there before Sirius, unsure what to say. "Hullo."

"Hullo," Sirius echoed him, then, "What are you doing here? Oughtn't you have classes today? Are you skivving off? I - why are you here?"

Regulus looked around the diner. Mostly old muggles eating their traditional English breakfast plates, talking or reading newspapers, none of them looked familiar, none of them were paying the bothers any attention.

"I needed to be some place safe."

Sirius stared at his brother, not looking away. "Bil," he said, "Tell the old hag we'll have to degnome her garden another day. Or else take my share of the pay if you can do it without me." He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a coin purse, counted out a few sickles, and tossed them on the table, "For my coffee. I've got to go."

"Alright," Bilius nodded. "See you." He watched the two brothers walk away.

Outside, Sirius paused in the lot next to his motorbike. "What's going on?"

"A lot."

"Is it something on at the school?"

"No," Regulus hesitated. "Well, yeah there was plenty going on at school, too, but - I haven't been there all week."

"It isn't holidays yet."

"No, not yet. Soon. But I haven't been back since the incident at the theatre. Did James tell you what happened?"

"Tell me what happened?" Sirius chuckled, "Don't be a sodclump. There's half a city block blown to bits by a wizard duel and you think I would only have heard of it if Potter told me about it? I mean, yes, he told us but its been all over the news, even muggle news!"

"Well you know I - I got them out, him and Jasper," Regulus said, lowering his voice as he spoke, "Well I was seen. I was seen helping. Greyback saw it and Mother fought him and I'm sure he's told You Know Who by now... Which means he knows about us being defectors. Which means he wants us dead."

Sirius stared at Regulus.

Regulus wasn't sure what reaction he'd expected but Sirius's reaction was so mundane - it was hard to believe it was fully him at all. "Of course he wants you dead, anyone against him he wants dead."

"But he didn't know about Mother and I before."

Sirius reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter.

"He wants to kill us. Don't you care?"

"Welcome to the club, kid, he wants to kill all of us."

"But this is different."

"How?"

"You know what he does to defectors?"

"The same as he does to enemies."

"But he can control us more," Regulus said, showing the Dark Mark discreetly. "He can find us. Track us. Hunt us. We're on the run, Sirius, we've got the Safe House, and we're on the run."

Sirius drew a long drag off his cigarette. "Ferfuckssake."

"I'm scared, Sirius!"

The last words hung in the air and Sirius let out the smoke he had in his lungs. He looked around the village. "What do you want me to do, Reg?"

Regulus wasn't sure. He wasn't sure what he wanted or what he expected, or what, at all, Sirius could possibly do.

"Give me one of those," he gestured to the cigarette.

"No, you'll destroy your lungs," Sirius answered.

"You're destroying yours."

"And if I was jumping off a bridge, would you do it too?" Sirius asked. Then, thinking better of it, he said, "Or something less fun."

Regulus could feel a rage in him building up. "Just give me a damned cigarette, Sirius!"

"No! I told you, it isn't good for you. What kind of big brother gives his kid brother a fucking cigarette!"

Regulus yelled, "I DUNNO THE SAME SORT THAT DOESN'T GIVE A DAMN THAT THE DARK LORD IS COMING AFTER HIS LITTLE BROTHER AND HIS MOTHER AND WHO JUST SHRUGS OFF LIKE ITS NOTHING AND LIKE I AM NOTHING!"

Sirius looked as surprised as if Regulus had slapped him.

"WHAT KIND OF BROTHER DOESN'T EVEN TRY TO HELP?" Regulus continued, "I tell you I'm scared and you light up a fucking cigarette. Its not a big deal Mother and I are being hunted down. You don't even care! You couldn't care less!" He turned and landed a hard kick into the wheel cap of the motorbike.

"Hey now! Don't go taking it out on her, she didn't do anything!" Sirius snapped.

Regulus laughed. "You give more fucks about that motorcycle than you do me, your own bleeding brother!"

"And they say I'M dramatic, Merlin's arsecheek -"

"I AM NOT BEING DRAMATIC!"

"YOU ARE!"

"James Potter wouldn't say I was being dramatic."

"He might not say it, but he certainly would think it."

"He wouldn't. He would be worried about me, and try to help me figure out what to do!"

"Then why didn't you go talk to him then?"

"BECAUSE I WANTED MY BROTHER!" Regulus snapped.

Sirius said, "Well here I am Regulus." He tapped his chest, "In all my glory."

"Tu es sèrieux," muttered Regulus in frustration.

"Toujours."

They stared at one another. Sirius's lip threatened to quiver into a smile.

"You know what - just... nevermind. I thought things were different and I guess that's my idiot mind trying to make things better, when really they're not," Regulus said, "But I really thought, after the platform, after the wedding --" he shook his head.

The joking smile on Sirius's face faded, and his expression and voice was serious now. Sirius said, "Reg."

"I thought it was different between us, like it used to be when we were kids, before --" he wasn't even sure before what.

"Regulus!"

"What?!"

"Come back to the flat with me. We'll start this over, okay?" Sirius put his hands on his brother's shoulders.

Regulus nodded, "Okay."

Sirius reached into his pocket and withdrew the keys to the motorbike, climbing on. "C'mon, little brother. Hop on."

Regulus nodded again, and awkwardly got onto the motorcycle behind Sirius. He'd never been on the motorbike before. He felt reckless.

"Hang on, alright?" Sirius said.

Regulus hugged one arm around his brother, and his fist closed around the charm at his neck.