Peter stood by the doorway, watching the tall man in the cloak. His chest tightened with anticipation and guilt.
    Peter saw James. He saw the flicker of recognition as James saw him. He heard the words, like a blow to his stomach. I thought you were better that this! He screamed at the small form of a rat at the doorway. He turned back to his adversary.
    You'll see. James snarled at The Dark Lord. I hope you feel some remorse.
The man froze, then leveled his wand, whispering the curse.
    He watched as the light left James Potter's eyes. He watched as the form crumpled to the ground. He felt proud of James' last words, then immediate shame. He wasn't their friend anymore. The moment he earned the Mark, it was over.
    Voldemort went up the stairs. Wormtail heard the screaming of Lily. The wails of  Harry. He was there when Sirius ran in, sobbing over his best friends' bodies and checking on Harry. He was there when Sirius gave his bike to Hagrid.
    He allowed himself a moment of regret, feeling the familiar swirl of guilt. He then pushed it to the back of his head and steeled his emotions. He had a job to finish.
    They would never know how much he regretted his decision. They would never know how much fear he felt, he much shame he had knowing it was his life or his friends', and choosing his own. They would never know how guilt ate away at him, that he felt so happy, so grateful, when the silver hand shone and squeezed, crushing his airway and taking his life. They would never know that he was happy to give his life just so all this never happened and he could have his brothers back.
     He was a rat, and he knew it.