Black Brothers drabble: "I've got you"
"Don't do it," Sirius spoke quietly, desperation in his voice. Before he'd found Regulus in the boys' bathroom, eyes teary and rubbed red, shaky hands running through his hair, tracing the paths Sirius had carved into the strands years ago, soothing him from nightmares or punishments— before he'd found Regulus there, desperately trying to hold his pieces together, he hadn't even thought he could ask for it.
Before then, he hadn't even given the thought the time of day. It was less painful to pretend not to want something than to admit that he wanted it more than anything in the whole wide world, that he'd get on his knees and beg for it, with a chance of still being denied. But here, as Regulus fell apart, Sirius saw his chance to become the glue to squeeze in between the fragmented parts of the boy he'd raised. His baby brother.
"Don't take the mark. Come with me to the Potters, I'll— I know that we haven't spoken and I'm sorry, I— I'll make it all up to you, I swear, just please. Please don't take it," Sirius begged. He'd always thought himself above begging. It turns out he was not above anything that would give him his brother back. Regulus stared at him, gaping, as if he couldn't quite understand what was happening.
Sirius opened his mouth to speak, to continue laying out his arguments, when suddenly, Regulus shot forward, colliding with Sirius' body. He tucked himself right into the spot that had always been his— head under Sirius' chin, fingers clutching at his shirt, arms wrapped tightly around him. Sirius brought his arms up, holding the younger as he shook in his embrace, sobbing.
"I'm here," Sirius whispered. In the face of Regulus' despair, he could only gape, "I'm here. I've got you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I have you."
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