Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

- P A R T  1 -

'Hold, hold on, hold onto me
'Cause I'm a little unsteady
A little unsteady’
Unsteady by Ambassador X

J A M E S

James Potter did not do well in confined spaces, which was ironic having grown up aboard the Elder which was nothing but confined spaces. In short, the cell was his version of hell.

He paced it often. He exercised. He sat with his face pressed up to the tiny window, catching glimpses of earth below them every time the ship turned the right way. Most of all, he waited until his birthday. 

He hadn’t been locked up that long in the grand scheme of things. Only six months and he only had one more month before he would turn eighteen and finally be released from the ship to float in endless space alongside his father. 

He was torn from his morose thoughts by the sound of the alarm blaring.

It was odd because James was fairly sure he had never heard an alarm like that. He still had several hours before the guards were due to bring in his next meal, and he hadn’t been allowed to leave the cell once since he had been unceremoniously shoved into it.

He sighed heavily and scrambled off of the little ledge he had settled on beside the window. But before he could even get his footing on the ground, the door was barged open and two guards hurried in, followed very quickly by his mother.

Euphemia Potter was a force to be reckoned with and she always had been. Even when James had been a very young child, he had always known this. People listened when she spoke, she commanded the kind of attention and respect that very few knew how to wield. But she knew how to wield it with a precision and certainty that left James in awe.

“Mum?” His jaw felt like it had gone completely slack at the sight of her. The guards stopped on either side of the door and watched Euphemia closely as she hurried over to take James in her arms.

“Hi sweetie,” she said as she clutched him tightly to her chest. The warm embrace made James feel like he was about to start crying. He hadn’t been certain that he would ever hug his mother again, or that he would even see her before it was his time to be floated out into the stars. But here she was, very real and right in front of him.

“Mum, what’s happening?” James demanded into her shoulder. It was a slightly awkward hug based solely on the fact that James had outgrown his mother by age 15 and now stood at least a foot taller than her. He was crouched slightly to allow himself into her embrace, but he didn’t really care about how strange it would look to anyone else. 

“It’s happening,” was all Euphemia said, before pulling away and placing a hand on each of James’ shoulders and looking him straight in the eye.

“What?” James almost bellowed. Distantly he became aware of the sound of many people moving through the corridors of the lockup. It sounded like some people were struggling and shouting. A horrible truth dawned on James and his eyes widened with horror.

For all of his waiting and wondering, he had thought that he would have one more month of nothing before he would die.

“They’re killing us all aren’t they?” James blinked quickly in an attempt to keep the rapidly forming tears from falling down his face. He had to stay strong for his mother, who had only recently lost her husband. He was okay with this, he had come to terms with dying already. He felt far less okay with it under his mother’s eyes. In fact he felt like he was five years old again all of a sudden. He gulped. “They’re reducing the population to give more time for the rest of you. How many of us are there? 50? 100? That won’t buy enough time and you know it-”

“James, stop,” Euphemia said. “They’re not killing you.”

“What?” James blinked rapidly, confusion overtaking him.

“They’re not killing you,” Euphemia said again. “They’re sending you to the ground.”

The ground.

Oh .

“But it’s not supposed to be habitable for another four generations,” James said.

“Things have changed,” Euphemia replied. “Stretch out your arm for me.”

James did as she asked and offered her his wrist. With careful, practised hands, from years of performing surgeries too complicated for James to wrap his mind around, Euphemia placed a metal bracelet around James’ wrist and closed it. It hurt a bit, but James didn’t wince. He just continued looking at his mother’s face for any answers he could get.

“Listen to me carefully James, this is important,” Euphemia said. “They’re sending all 100 of the juveniles currently in lockup to the ground to see if it’s survivable-”

“So we’re being sent to a radiation-infested planet just to die?” James scoffed. “They may as well float us.”

“I’ve seen the readings. We think it’s survivable,” Euphemia said. “We’ve lived in space for years James, our bodies have adapted to higher levels of radiation. But don’t interrupt me. When you get down there, you’ll be dropped off near an old nuclear bunker. There will be supplies there, you get them, you stay safe, you stay alive and you wait for the rest of us to follow.”

“You’re coming too?” James asked. “I don’t understand.”

“The readings from these bracelets will prove to Crouch that the ground is survivable,” Euphemia said, tapping the bracelet on James’ wrist lightly. “That’s all I’ll need. But you need to promise me to be safe.”

“I promise,” James said immediately, without even a second thought.

“No James.” Euphemia shook her head, “I need you to promise to look out for yourself first, before anything. I know you, you’re good. I know you, but please for once, put yourself first.”

“I’ll try,” James said weakly.

Euphemia gave him a pained smile. “I’ve put as many medical supplies as I was allowed into the shuttle. There is a few days' worth of food in there too. But get to Mount Hallow and get those supplies.”

James swallowed, finding his mouth far dryer than he remembered it being just moments earlier. “Mum I-”

“No goodbyes thank you,” Euphemia said stoically. “I will see you again. On the ground James. This is the chance your father dreamed of.”

James nodded. He reached under his glasses and scrubbed at his eyes, determined to clear them of tears.

“Mum, I love you,” James forced out.

Euphemia smiled again. “I love you too darling. Now, it’s time for you to go before Abbott and Selwyn here are forced to drag you out of the room.”

James drew his mother into a hug again, resting his chin on top of her head, just in time to see a boy with familiar dark curls and green eyes being escorted past his room by two of his own guards. Their eyes locked briefly and James saw nothing but panic in them.

“Sirius,” James choked out. All of a sudden realising what all of the juvenile prisoners on the ship being sent to the ground would mean for his best friend. “Mum, please tell him that I’ll look out for-”

“He knows James,” Euphemia patted his back and spoke into his chest. James wondered if she was using the momentary concealment to pull herself together and be the strong leader she always had to be on the Elder. He never knew how she did it. He could never be as good at keeping his pain to himself as she was.

“Make sure-”

“I’ll keep him from doing anything stupid.”

“Thank you.”

“Now it’s time to go, James,” Euphemia patted him on the back again and he finally released her.

“Okay,” James nodded and heaved a heavy breath. “Okay fine, but I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Of course darling,” Euphemia smiled a warm comforting smile. James only saw the worry in her eyes because he knew his mother so well. That was the last thing he said to his mother before he was being escorted from the room. I’ll see you soon. He wasn’t certain that he really believed his own words.

It seemed that he was one of the last ones to leave, all of the cells stood open and empty now. Some showed signs of struggle. Torn bed sheets, scattered papers. But there was no longer any sign of the 100 juveniles who were always kept locked up here. It felt slightly eerie to James, despite not having left his room in the six months since he had been placed there, there were always the sounds of other inmates around. Now it was silent apart from the squeak of his own shoes and the noise of the guards walking either side of him.

He walked silently, with his head down until they reached a part of the Elder that James had never been allowed to enter before. He was marched through some doors and was hit by a wall of sound and confusion.

They were in a shuttle. The walls were lined with seats, which had heavy seatbelts on them. Every seat was occupied by someone, and a few guards remained, buckling people in and checking that everyone was behaving. James’ stomach dropped slightly at the thought of the guards leaving. Surely there had to have been a better plan than sending 100 juvenile delinquents to the ground? Apparently not.

“Take your seat, son,” said one of the guards who had escorted him- Selywn - James thought. The man gestured to an empty seat and James froze seeing who was already buckled into the seat next to it.

“James!” Peter tried to rise from his seat, but he was already securely strapped in so didn’t manage much more than a pathetic flop.

“Oh fuck no,” James snarled. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came for you James!” Peter’s eyes were wide and glassy, almost begging. James couldn’t stand the sight of it.  

“Mr Potter, you have ten seconds to take your seat before we will be forced to make you,” said Selwyn. 

“You can try,” James replied curtly. “I’m not sitting with him.”

“What are you? Four?” The girl strapped to a seat beside Peter chuckled. James recognised her immediately. Marlene McKinnon who had lived in the room across the hall from him until she was arrested. “Don’t want to sit next to old Petey here? Thought you two were mates.”

“Stay out of it, McKinnon,” James snarled. “It’s none of your fucking business.”

“5 seconds,” said Abbott, pulling his taser out of its holster. “Your mother said you’d go quietly Potter. We really don’t want to have to manhandle you.”

“Well too bad, she didn’t mention that I’d have to sit next to - argh.” 

James had hardly started his complaints before the taser was in his ribs and he was being violently shoved into the chair and having the buckles done up for him. By the time his body stopped violently twitching and he could breathe properly again, the guards were gone and the doors which he had come through were shut.

“Smooth Potter,” Marlene grinned at him over Peter. “Real fucking smooth.”

“Oh piss off would you,” James stared pointedly ahead, refusing to look at Peter.

“I’ve been dying to know what got you shoved into solitary,” Marlene asked. “Perfect Potter-”

The words were stolen from her lips as the engines of the shuttle engaged and the ship detached from the Elder with ease, throwing all of their heads back against the seats and stealing the breath momentarily from their lungs. The screens all around the ship flickered on.

“Prisoners of the Elder.” The image of Bartemius Crouch flickered onto the screens. He was standing in front of a bland wall that could’ve been anywhere inside the Elder, but was likely his own office. “You’re being given a second chance. As your Minister, it is my hope that you see this not just as a chance for you, but a chance for all of us. For mankind itself. You are going to earth. To discover if it is habitable. We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of your survival were better, we would’ve sent others. Frankly, we are sending you because your crimes have made you expendable-”

“Your dad’s a fucking dick Crouch,” someone yelled across the shuttle and James felt his eyes torn from the screen to see a grinning Barty Crouch Junior sitting across from him.

“Don’t I know it!” Barty replied. The gravity in the shuttle shifted and James found that he was no longer pressed back against his seat, but he was rather weightless instead. 

On the screen, the Minister continued to deliver his speech. “-your crimes will be forgiven, records wiped clean. This is your chance to make something of yourselves. The shuttle will land at a carefully chosen location not far from Mount Hallow. It was a military base built within a mountain. It was stocked with enough non-perishables to sustain three hundred people for up to two years. That is your only chance of survival-”

“James, look at me please?” Peter pleaded beside him.

“I don’t want to,” James gritted out, pointedly keeping his eyes staring straight ahead.

“Just hear me out okay?” Peter said. “I didn’t think they’d float him! I thought someone would be able to speak some sense into him before he-”

“You didn’t think they’d float him?” James tore his eyes away from the screen to glare at Peter. “That’s what they do Peter.”

“But I didn’t realise-”

“Hey Potter,” James turned back to face forwards only to see a grinning Barty Crouch floating upside down in front of him. “So what’d you do then? How’d you land yourself here with us despicable criminals? Never pegged you for one.”

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know Crouch,” James pulled in another heavy breath, trying to still his rage. “You should get back to your seat before the parachutes deploy and flatten you against the ceiling like a pancake.”

“Well, you know me, can’t resist a good space walk can I?”

“You wasted a month of O2 on an illegal space walk Barty,” James blinked at him. “For what? The shits and gigs?”

“Something like that,” Barty’s lips quirked up into a grin. The grin was gone from his face the moment the parachutes deployed and his body was thrown upwards, just as James had predicted, smashing into a mess of wires and pipes, sending smoke and sparks billowing.

“Barty, are you okay?” James demanded as Barty’s prone form was thrown back to the ground. Barty threw a thumbs up as he grabbed onto the straps of his own seat and pulled himself into it. Barty Crouch must’ve had the best luck in the whole world because that should certainly have broken his back.

“That was fucking brilliant!” Barty yelled over the sound of chaos. There were screams and shouts everywhere. Somewhere a computer was beeping loudly. Debris were being thrown around the cabin, James watched as a bit of pipe struck a girl on the other side of the shuttle. Blood began to gush down the girl’s face.

“James!” Peter yelled as the shuttle seemed to spin out of control. “I don’t want you to die hating me!” James glanced over at Peter, whose eyes were wide with fear now. He clung to the straps keeping him in his seat. “I didn’t mean to get your father arrested- I just-”

“They didn’t arrest my father, Peter, they executed him!” James bellowed over the engine noise. “I do hate you!”

As if prompted by James’ yell, the cabin went completely dark. James leaned his head back into the seat and squeezed his eyes closed.

If this is how I die, at least my body will make it to earth, James thought vaguely. 

Then, all of a sudden, with an almighty shudder. It was over. The lights flickered back on and James opened his eyes, suddenly aware that he had never heard quiet before in his life because there was nothing. No low hum of engines and generators. Nothing but the sound of people breathing.

With shaking hands, James quickly undid the buckles and was out of his seat before Peter could get the chance to say anything else.

“Is anyone hurt?” James asked quickly, eyes scanning over everyone.

“The door’s down here!” Someone shouted from below. For a second, no one moved. Then there was a sudden scramble all at once to undo the buckles and head to the ladder.

“Get it open!” Someone else below shouted.

“Wait!” James hurried down the ladder first, dropping down into a very similar-looking room, with the only difference being that there was a large empty panel of the room which was clearly a door.

“Stay back!” Someone was saying in an authoritative tone. “Give me a second yeah?”

“Wait!” James said again. It was crowded down here, everyone was already out of their seats and were thronging towards the door. James unceremoniously began pushing his way through the crowd. “The air could be toxic!”

“If the air is toxic we’re already dead!” Someone else in the crowd replied. 

“Open the door!” Someone else yelled. This was met with a chorus of cheers.

James felt his heart speed up as he finally made it to the front of the crowd and - 

“Sirius?” he demanded, blinking his eyes rapidly in case the figure in front of him was a strange dream brought forth from his months of solitude (James wasn’t entirely certain that this wasn’t all a dream yet, but he hadn’t really had an awful lot of time to think about it).

It wasn’t possible that he was here. Sirius was eighteen already, if he’d committed a crime he would’ve been floated without a second thought. But here he was, standing there, hand on the lever to open the door, wearing a guard uniform with a gun strapped to his hip and a slightly manic glint in his eyes that James knew meant nothing good.

“Why are you in a guard’s uniform?” Was the only thing James could think to say.

Sirius barked a laugh. “It’s good to see you too James.”

“Yeah, that of course,” James blinked again, still trying to convince his brain to believe what his eyes were seeing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun?” Sirius grinned a wicked grin.

“Open the door!” Someone yelled again. Muttering flew through the crowd, which only continued to grow larger as more people piled down from upstairs.

“Sirius?” Someone had materialised like a ghost beside James and he jolted slightly as Sirius’ eyes flew away from James and to his little brother.

“Hey Reggie,” Sirius grinned, “You’ve grown.”

James found himself looking now too. Beside him stood Regulus Black. James had only seen him twice before. Once earlier that day as he was escorted to the shuttle past his room, and once two years earlier when Regulus was pulled out of his parents’ room, kicking and screaming. 

Regulus was older now, stood taller, and held his head higher.

“You haven’t,” Regulus offered. 

“Open the fucking door already!” Someone yelled again. More cheers.

“Do you mind?” Sirius snapped at the crowd. “I’ve not seen my little brother in two years.”

Regulus took a few steps forward until he was right in front of Sirius. James couldn’t help but notice that both of them were coiled so tightly it was as if they were about to start punching each other.

James had never pretended to understand what existed between Sirius and his little brother. Perhaps no one else would be able to understand it, because no one else on the Elder had any siblings. It was an old law, designed to stop population growth and help conserve the limited O2 that the ship had access to. Each couple could only have one child.

The Blacks had broken that rule. They had been floated for it.

Sirius never seemed to spare his parents a second thought. The only thing James had heard about them after they died was ‘Good riddance’. Regulus, however… James knew that Sirius loved his little brother more than anything. Sirius had given up most of his life to protect Regulus. First from being discovered by The Elder, then from his parents. 

James knew that the Blacks were not kind to their children. James had spent enough time patching Sirius up. Offering him a refuge and an ice pack whenever he needed it. But Sirius had always gone back. Then one day, two years ago Sirius had shown up at James’ doorstep with blood on his face, tears in his eyes and only one phrase on his lips. “I did something bad.”

James hadn’t understood until they had gotten to the Black’s quarters and found the guards already there, pulling Sirius’ parents from the room. Sirius had given his parents up to the guards. He had told James later through tears as James helped him clean his wounds.

“I just wanted him away from them!” Sirius had sobbed as James cleaned his knuckles. “I didn’t realise they’d lock him up.”

“I know mate,” James had replied. He had finally understood then why Sirius had always gone back to his parents no matter what they did.

“Do you think they’ll let me see him?” Sirius had asked. “I need to explain- we’re better without them!”

Sirius had not been allowed to see Regulus once and his parents had been floated for their crime. Sirius knew it was his fault. James hadn’t really understood Sirius’ pain until he had gotten his own father killed. He understood it now.

Regulus and Sirius had a silent stand-off for a moment before Regulus drew his fist back and punched Sirius directly in the jaw.

“Owch- what the fuck!” Sirius complained, cupping his jaw and looking at Regulus with accusing eyes.

“You deserved that,” Regulus said blandly, still glaring at Sirius, his eyes narrowed.

“Yeah I did,” Sirius grumbled.

“What the fuck are you doing here Sirius?” Regulus demanded, his words were surprisingly sharp. Not at all the quiet and shy boy Sirius had always described.

“Not happy to see me then?” Sirius asked, still holding his jaw.

“No,” Regulus replied flatly.

“Yeah, fair enough,” said Sirius.

“A guard’s uniform?” Regulus cocked an eyebrow.

“I borrowed it to get on the shuttle,” Sirius said.

“Why?” Regulus demanded.

“To look out for you,” Sirius said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Regulus seemed to be holding himself back from punching Sirius again. He rolled his eyes instead.

“Open the fucking door!” Someone shouted again.

“Alright- alright!” Sirius sighed heavily and pulled the lever. Blinding them all in sunlight as the door slowly opened.

James sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from the ground. But it certainly wasn’t this . The door had dropped down to create a little ramp from the shuttle down to the mud below. The sunlight was dazzling and it took James a few moments to get his bearings. When he could see again he saw an awful lot more green than he had ever seen in his life.

There were luscious green plants everywhere, brown trees stretching up to the sky, James felt like he might fall over from the sheer blueness of the sky. It was overwhelming in the most wonderful way possible.

It smelt amazing too. Everything on the Elder always smelt like disinfectant and stale air. The air that poured in through the open door now felt… well fresh. James was suddenly struck by the fact that this was the first time in his life that he breathed real air that hadn’t been run through O2 scrubbers several hundred times already. 

Someone stepped down the ramp, very slowly, tentatively almost. James would never have used that word to describe Barty Crouch Junior before then, but the way he moved could only be described as that. He stepped slowly and confidently until he was at the end of the ramp, then jumped down onto the ground.

He grinned a slightly manic grin as he turned back to face the group. 

“Oh, we’re so back bitches!” 

Chaos ensued. James supposed he should’ve seen it coming, the crowd had been growing more and more restless every second that Sirius had delayed opening the door. Suddenly, everyone was in motion all at once, charging out into the potentially radioactive forest ahead of them, whooping and cheering as they did.

James saw Regulus cast a hesitant look at Sirius before charging off after the crowd. Sirius made to follow him, but James strode over and placed a hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

“Give him a minute maybe?” James suggested.

Sirius sighed heavily and drew his hand through his long hair. “Yeah maybe.”

“It’s good to see you mate,” James patted Sirius on the shoulder. “But respectfully, how the fuck are you here?”

“Later?” Sirius suggested. He glanced back over his shoulder into the shuttle. “They might need some help mate.”

James turned to see the girl who had been struck with the pipe earlier clambering down the ladder with one hand to her face to stop the blood from a gash in her head. There was another boy out cold, still strapped to his seat, leaning forward precariously as if he would slump the second the straps were released.

Years of helping his mother in the infirmary had not prepared him all that well for this, but James supposed he was probably the closest thing to a medic that they were going to get down on the ground.

“Come here,” James sighed heavily, gesturing to the bleeding girl. “Sirius, check if that kid’s alive and see if there’s a medical kit anywhere.”

Chapter Text

R E G U L U S

Regulus Black had never been much of an artist. That was until he found himself in the lockup.

There wasn’t much to do in the lockup, but for some reason, the guards were willing to provide paper and pencils when they were unwilling to provide books. So Regulus lay on his hard bed for hours sketching and writing poetry. It was all he had to occupy himself, the only way to keep out of his thoughts for long enough that they didn’t consume him.

The only way he knew anything about the passage of time was the slanted tallies he drew on his wall. One for every day he had spent in the lockup. 706 days.

Regulus Black wasn’t certain he knew what happiness was really. He had thought he did when he was younger. Back when he and Sirius would hide under the sheets and read the Odessy or Illiad together or when Sirius would sneak an extra slice of cake back from the mess hall for Regulus when it was someone’s birthday.

He had spent a lot of time alone over the past two years and had come up with one indisputable fact that he was certain of; He wished he had never been born. He didn’t want to die, now he was here he’d quite like to stay alive thank you. He just often found himself wishing that he had not been born at all. It would have been easier, he thought, than existing. His existence only made everything harder for everyone and it always had.

Sirius’ life would certainly have been much easier if Regulus had never been born. Whilst he was in his cell he had contemplated this often. Sirius would have been happy, Regulus thought. Perhaps their parents never would have raised a hand against him if not for the stress of hiding Regulus for all of those years. Sirius certainly wouldn’t have gotten his parents killed if not for Regulus.

He didn’t like his parents, but he had loved them, so it was difficult to reconcile the fact that the only person he had ever really liked had gotten them killed. All because Regulus existed. And he wished often that he didn’t.

The first time in Regulus’ miserable life that he was happy he existed was when he found himself on the ground.

Sirius had shown him picture books when he was a young child and they had depictions of the ground in them. Some photographs, some drawings. Regulus had spent the last two years in his cell imagining what it would be like to be on the ground. Imagining what his life may have been like if he was born in another time, as another person.

But here he was, himself, on the ground.

He ran through the trees with the others, staring up in wonderment at the trees surrounding him and allowing a small hysterical laugh to escape his lips.

“Fucking sick isn’t it,” Someone appeared beside where he stood in a clearing of flowers that had stopped him dead in his tracks. It wasn’t too far from where the ship had landed, he could still see it through the trees, and still hear the delighted cries around him. He could even still pick out Sirius’ form.

The someone in question who had interrupted Regulus’ marvelling at the purple flowers all around him was Barty Crouch Jr. Regulus recognised him from the survival classes that they had been forced to take alongside their usual school work. Regulus had recognised a few faces from that class on the ship with him. In hindsight, the strange and unforeseen addition of survival of all things to their schooling should have been a dead giveaway to Regulus that something like this would happen.

“Yeah it is,” Regulus agreed.

He did not know Barty well. Barty had always sat at the front of the class, giving snide comments amidst the lecture whilst Regulus had kept to the back of the room and stayed silent unless called upon. That was how he tended to handle any situation with a large group of people- so in every situation, as in Regulus’ life before the lockup, he had only ever met three people; his parents and Sirius.

“You’re the kid they found under the floor,” Barty said. It didn’t sound like a question.

“You’re the Minister’s kid who wasted a month of Oxygen on a spacewalk,” Regulus had heard someone mention it on the shuttle, a snide remark when Barty had been hanging upside down in the middle of the shuttle.

Barty’s grin turned mischievous, “that’s me.”

“You sound so pleased about it?” Regulus blinked. 

“It was fun,” Barty shrugged. 

“I hope it was,” Regulus said. “Must’ve been worth it then? Pissing off your dad enough to get sent on a death mission.”

“Well we’re not dead yet,” Barty said.

“No, we’re not,” Regulus agreed. “Did you expect that?”

Barty shrugged, “Nah, thought we’d crash and burn honestly.”

Regulus cocked his head and noted the hardly disguised angst in Barty’s features. Yes, Barty was upset with his father. He hadn’t expected him to do this to him. He had really thought that there was no way that his own father would sentence him to float. But his father had sent him on a spaceship to a potentially deadly planet. Wasn’t that the same thing? All but left for dead it seemed.

“Families are hard,” Regulus offered.

Barty huffed out a breath. “Not much of a fan of talking about it mate.”

“Me either,” said Regulus.

“Understandable, what with what your brother did-” Regulus didn’t let Barty get much further before he had him by the neck of his shirt.

“Don’t fucking talk about my brother,” he said, very quietly. 

You see, many people had mistaken Regulus’ quiet in classes and at mealtimes for shyness. But Regulus would not consider himself shy. He simply found that he knew when to speak and to listen. Growing up in that room, with only his parents, Sirius had taught Regulus how to keep quiet. Watching Sirius battle with his parents had taught Regulus when to step up. Watching Sirius crumble had taught him how to withdraw into himself.

“Ooh you’ve got claws,” Barty said, the grin on his face growing impossibly wider as if this was the best possible outcome for any situation. “I think we’re going to be friends.”

Regulus scowled. 

“I don’t have any friends,” he snarked back, releasing Barty who looked a little too much like he was finding being held by the collar funny than he was finding it threatening. 

“New planet, new you?” Barty suggested.

Regulus frowned again, “Technically this isn’t a new planet, it’s just the same one as we’ve always been in orbit of.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a fucking nerd!” Barty complained. “I was just starting to think I liked you!”

“So what if I am?”

“Then I’ll just have to tone out the sounds of your dulcet tones,” Barty said, throwing an arm around Regulus’ shoulders as if they had been friends for years and pulling him away from the flowers back in the direction of the drop ship. “You’re far too pretty not to keep around.”

For some reason, Regulus found himself blushing. Which was unacceptable. He didn’t blush!

But here he was, blushing anyway, despite how furious he was about it.

“I wasn’t done over there!” Regulus complained as Barty essentially walked him back in the direction of the shuttle where people were beginning to congregate again after running themselves silly in loops.

“You are now,” Barty said. “Let's see what’s going on here.”

What was going on here? Well, it appeared that the boy Regulus had walked past when leaving the cells earlier that day, the one with the glasses and messy hair, had sat a bleeding girl down on a crate that had been pulled out of the shuttle and was stitching her face up with a needle.

Other people had seemingly organised and were sorting through some crates and bags that had clearly been pulled off of the ship. There were less than ten of them there, the rest were still enjoying the trees and the breeze. Regulus could see that Sirius was among them. He was desperate to know how Sirius was here. It was almost as much of a shock as being on the ground - seeing his brother again. The tension simmered just beneath the surface.

I hate you , Regulus wanted to scream.

I love you anyway , Regulus could never say.

Regulus was greedy with his brother. He wanted all of him. He didn’t like Sirius having secrets that he didn’t already know. That had never been their way… well until it was.

“You should be all good,” The boy with the glasses said, patting the girl with the injured face on the shoulder. “Keep it clean, yeah?”

He stood up and stretched, moving away from the girl and wiping his now bloody hands off on his trousers. It didn’t show on the dark fabric.

“Sirius,” The boy asked, addressing Regulus’ brother, who perked up instantly at the sound of his own name. “The other kid?”

Sirius’ expression darkened and he shook his head. 

“Someone’s dead already?” Regulus asked as he and Barty came to a halt beside the piled-up supplies.

“Yeah, someone knocked a bunch of debris loose in the landing and it fucking speared him,” Sirius said, eyes flicking over to the boy beside Regulus.

“Uh,” Barty said, dropping his arm from Regulus’ shoulder to cross in front of his chest. “Oops.”

“Mistakes like that will get you killed down here,” said Sirius with mirth in his voice, his eyes flicking between Regulus and Barty, once, twice, three times, before resting back on Barty. “We need to sort through the supplies and work out where we are.” 

“We’re on the ground,” said a blonde girl who was rummaging through a crate. Looking much more like she was about to steal anything useful for herself than she was about to help. “Isn’t that enough.”

“We need to get to Mount Hallow,” The boy with the glasses said instantly. “We need to get the supplies there. There’s only a few days worth of stuff on the ship. It can’t be far, you heard what his dad said,” gesturing to Barty, “We’re supposed to have been dropped near to it.”

“Who elected you leader Potter?” asked a boy who Regulus didn’t recognise from anywhere.

The boy with the glasses narrowed his eyes slightly and huffed out a sigh, looking to Sirius for help. Suddenly it clicked who this boy was. Regulus had heard enough stories about Sirius’ best friend James Potter to last a lifetime. Regulus regarded the boy, wondering what on earth he could possibly have done to wind up here. Regulus had never seen him in the mess hall or in any of his classes. Was he recently thrown into lockup? Weren’t his parents on the council, the chief medical officer and chief engineer, Regulus remembered that.

He supposed it wasn’t that strange that he was here. After all, Barty’s father was the Minister and he was here. However, Regulus hadn’t thought that the James Potter that Sirius had spoken about for hours at a time sounded like the kind of person to break the law. In fact he sounded like the kind of person who would one day be in charge of upholding it. 

“I don’t care about leading anyone,” James huffed. “I’d just kind of prefer to live. And we need food for that.”

“Well, I think we’re going to have to walk a bit to get it,” said a short blonde boy, who was holding a map and stumbling towards them as if he was going to topple over his own feet at any second. 

“Pete, what do you mean?” Sirius demanded quickly.

Ah, yes Peter Pettogrew. He came up a few times in Sirius’ stories as well. He had not made the same impression on Regulus as James had, even from second-hand stories. Regulus couldn’t help but notice James huff as Peter came closer.

“They dropped us on the wrong mountain,” Peter said. “Mount Hallow is that way!” He poked his finger at the map as he spoke and Sirius looked at it. 

“They dropped us on the wrong bloody mountain,” Sirius repeated Peter’s comments. “Phenomenal. Well, any volunteers to come with? James and I can’t carry enough food for everyone between just the two of us.”

“Me!” Peter declared quickly.

“If he’s going, I’m not going,” James said quickly. 

Regulus thought this was intriguing. In Sirius’ stories it had always been the three of them. Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew were the best of friends. But here was James Potter, glaring at Peter Pettigrew as if he had personally offended him just by existing.

Sirius’ brow furrowed as he looked between Peter and James. “What the fuck’s wrong with the pair of you?”

“I can think of many things,” Barty drawled. “Would you like a list?”

“Oh shut up Crouch,” Sirius sniped. “Not your fucking business.”

“Well, you’re having this conversation in the middle of what I thought was a group discussion,” Barty said. “Thought someone else should chip in over you idiots.”

“And why did you think it should be you Crouch?” a small girl asked, eyes narrowed. “After everything your father’s done?”

The looks of dislike Barty was getting from the group made Regulus immediately feel like he had chosen the wrong person to stand next to. He supposed he hadn’t really chosen to stand next to Barty really, Barty had simply dragged him over here.

“Look, I’m just as pissed as the rest of you at him,” Barty said, clearly having worked out now was not the time to be a smart ass - Regulus thought perhaps Barty was smarter than he let on. “He threw me out here too.”

“I think Crouch here has just volunteered to do all that walking,” the blonde girl, who was still sorting through supplies said.

“Fine,” Barty said. “Fine, I’ll go then. Regulus will come with me? Won’t you? Sounds like fun doesn’t it.”

“Not particularly,” Regulus said dryly. Barty punched him lightly in the ribs. “Fine, I’ll come.”

“Reg, a word?” Sirius asked.

“What about?” Regulus demanded. He thought that perhaps he should have hit Sirius a little harder, as the bruise that was slowly forming on his jaw didn’t look nearly painful enough.

At the same moment, James’ eyes snagged on Barty’s wrist. “Have you been trying to take that off?”

Regulus tore his eyes away from Sirius’ pleading ones to look over at Barty. The silver bracelet on his wrist looked battered already as if someone had hit it with a rock.

“So what if I have?” Barty demanded.

“The Elder is using those to see if we’re still alive,” James said, his eyes had gone slightly wide. “If you take it off they’ll think you’re dead. The comms system in the ship was smashed up by your little 0 g experiment. That’s the only way they’ll know we’re alive.”

“And what do I care if they think I’m dead?” Barty cocked an eyebrow.

“Do you want your dad to think you’re dead?” James asked. When this had no effect on Barty, “Do you want everyone to think you’re dead?”

Barty shrugged, but Regulus could see him backing down slightly. Okay, so Barty did not care about his dad, but he did care about someone. Regulus filed that information away. 

“Hey, Potter, all that solitary never teach you how to keep your mouth shut?” Several boys had walked over to them and stood beside Barty.

“Oh piss off Mulciber,” James rolled his eyes. “Not surprised that you ended up down here.”

“You’re down here too,” the boy who had spoken, Mulciber, replied. “Must’ve been something pretty bad for them to float your old man. He was all big and important, wasn’t he? What’d he do?”

“Don’t talk about my dad,” James replied. 

“Look at you, down here already giving orders. Think you’re in charge, huh?” Mulciber taunted. He was clearly trying to get a reaction out of James, it looked to Regulus as if it almost worked. But James took a steadying breath.

“I don’t give a shit about who's in charge, Mulciber, I just want to go and get the food.”

“Well then, don’t let us stop you,” Mulciber grinned.

“I’ll stay,” Peter said in a small voice. “You go, James.” 

“Fine, whatever. Crouch, you still in?” James asked.

“Hell yeah! Group trip!” Barty faked enthusiasm before letting his features drop. “Enough enthusiasm for you Potter? Or should I keep trying?”

J A M E S

“Hey, James slow down,” Sirius said, his shorter legs struggling to keep up with James’ longer ones as James ploughed through the undergrowth quickly, hardly checking to see that the rest of the group was still with him. “Maybe try and enjoy it a bit mate? We’re on the ground for god's sake!”

“Sorry,” James grumbled. “Just want to get this over with.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Sirius asked. “You’re all strung up.”

“Well, we’re walking through a radiation-soaked forest on a planet that might kill us, excuse me for being a little tense,” James offered. It didn’t even scratch the surface in truth. He was so horribly aware that the survival of their group was the last possible option for everyone on the Elder. If they all died then everyone up there - including his mother- would die. It was an impossible weight. He hadn’t been this determined to live ever- certainly not in the last few months, it was a starling shock to his body, which had been so ready to die earlier that day.

James’ comment effectively killed any chance of conversation. Sirius stared at him blankly.

James did feel bad. He knew that this wasn’t like him, he wasn’t the grumbly sort. Tended to keep a smile plastered on his face in every situation. Sirius knew him too well. James knew he should tell him what this was really about. He steeled himself to do so.

“I just don’t get it,” Mary was saying as they walked, a few feet behind James and Sirius. “Why all of a sudden would they just send us down here?” Mary and Marlene had been the only other people willing to join the group on their trip. James wasn’t certain how he felt about it.

“Maybe they picked up on something from a satellite?” Marlene suggested. “But yeah, it doesn't make much sense. Kind of came out of nowhere too.”

“No, it didn’t,” Regulus said from his position at the back of the group with Barty. James had found himself slight fascinated by the quiet boy. He hadn’t really spoken that much thus far on the walk, but his voice was clear and not at all quiet when he spoke.

“What do you mean, no it didn’t?” Marlene frowned.

“Well, they put us through all of those survival classes,” Regulus offered. “As if they’d been planning this for months.”

“Around six months I’d think,” James said, feeling all eyes turning to him.

“What do you know, Potter?” Barty’s eyes narrowed and James heaved a heavy sigh.

“The Elder is dying,” James said. “With the current life support capabilities, they’ve got maybe three months of life support left. Four now they’ve got rid of us.”

Beside him, Sirius sucked in a sharp breath. 

“So that was the secret that they locked you up to keep?” Barty Crouch’s face spread into a grin. “That’s why you were in solitary?”

“That’s why Monty got floated?” Sirius asked, sounding smaller than he ever did. James knew that Sirius loved his parents like they were his own. Fleamont and Euphemia had dropped everything to help James pick up the pieces of Sirius after his parents were floated.

James heaved a heavy sigh, he ran his hands through his perpetually messy hair. “Yeah. Dad was the engineer who found the problem. He thought that people had a right to know about it. The council disagreed, and so did my mum. They were afraid that it would cause a panic I think. Anyway, Dad and I were going to go public anyway. The guards showed up before we could do it. Peter… he…”

“That rat!” Sirius declared. “The bastard got Monty killed?”

“Yeah,” James nodded. “But anyway. That’s why now. That’s why it’s worth the risk. Even if we all died, they’ve bought themselves some more time.”

“Oh James,” Sirius huffed out a pained laugh. 

“Well, whatever the reason, I’m just glad to be here,” Marlene said. “This morning, I woke up rotting in a cell and now I’m here, spinning in a forest!” As she spoke, she swung one arm around a tree, grinning as she went.

James had always liked Marlene. He had been in classes with her in school as they came from the same section of the ship. She had been a smiley kid, but she had been sickly. He remembered the day her father had been floated for trying to steal extra medicine for her. Marlene had gotten better when she got older, but her mother hadn’t. Marlene had been arrested for the same crime as her father, but she hadn’t been floated because she was only sixteen when she did it. It hadn’t mattered because Marlene’s mother had died anyway.

That had been around six months before James himself was arrested.

Sirius clapped a hand on James’ shoulder. The girls had continued their discussions of the things they liked best about the ground so far and Barty was chipping in whilst Regulus walked silently beside him, James would have forgotten he was there if not for the shrewd eyes that darted around, taking everything around them as they walked. Every time it flitted in James’ direction, he was certain that Regulus’ gaze held actual weight to it.

“You should have told me,” Sirius said. “How’d Pete find out?” 

“I told him,” James gritted his teeth. “Trusted him with it, just for him to go running off to the council.”

“You should have told me,” Sirius said again.

“I know,” James’ eyes were downcast, he was doing his best to focus on each step. One at a time. Rather than re-live the feeling of watching his father be sucked out of the airlock. He saw it enough already in his dreams, he wanted to avoid it as much as possible when he was awake. “I think he thought I’d blame you for it y’know?”

Sirius frowned. “But you didn’t tell me.”

“I know that,” James agreed. “But Peter didn’t.” This was something James had had quite some time to consider whilst locked up in solitary. He hadn’t told Sirius about it for one simple reason; Sirius would go to insane lengths to protect Regulus. When Regulus was in danger Sirius became unpredictable. James had wanted to tell him, of course. But he hadn’t been certain that Sirius wouldn’t react in an unpredictable way (see; Sirius managing to get on to the shuttle to earth in order to be with Regulus).

“You’re okay though?” Sirius asked. “Solitary didn’t drive you barmy? Was worried for a minute that it had.”

James huffed out a laugh. “No more barmy than ever mate. Just can’t wait for Mum to get down here, I’m worried y’know. Things aren’t looking good up there. I told her to look out for you y’know. She’d have done it anyway of course, but here you are. So no need for that then, huh?”

Suddenly, Sirius looked very shifty under James’ gaze. 

“How are you here Sirius?” James asked.

“Told you, I borrowed a guard’s uniform to get on the shuttle,” Sirius said.

“How did you find out about the Shuttle?” James pressed.

“Heard about it.” Sirius said simply.

James narrowed his eyes slightly at Sirius.

“I can hear things alright,” Sirius responded. He was doing his best to pull that unreadable mask onto his face. James remembered Sirius doing a much better job of this six months ago before the world had turned upside down. 

“What did you do Sirius?” James asked.

“I don’t think you want to know,” Sirius replied curtly.

“I was honest with you,” James offered.

“Six months late, yeah,” Sirius sniped back.

“Well, fat lot of good those six months did me. Locked up in a cell wasn’t exactly how I’d have chosen to spend it, is it?” James offered. “C’mon Sirius, it’s me. Whatever it is, I can help.”

“No you can’t,” Sirius said. “You need to stay with the group and wait for your mum to come.”

“Um… okay, so do you though,” James said. Suddenly a realisation came over him. “Wait, you’re not planning on staying with the group? What did you do Sirius?”

“I shot the Minister okay?” Sirius muttered, casting a furtive look around at the other four of their group, none of whom appeared to be eavesdropping. “I panicked! Some guard came up to me and said that Regulus was being thrown on a shuttle to earth and if I wanted on all I had to do was shoot Crouch and they’d make sure I could sneak on.”

“Shit Sirius, this is bad,” James rubbed a rather sore spot right between his eyes, dislodging his glasses so they sat slightly crooked on his face. 

“I panicked!” Sirius said again.

“Why the hell would you agree to that?”

Sirius just blinked back at him, seemingly confused by the question. It took him a moment to come up with a response. “My brother, my responsibility.”

James could only groan in response to this, covering his face with his hands. “Okay, it’s fine. You make yourself useful down here, surely they’ll pardon you right? Did he die? Did you kill Crouch?” There was never any use arguing with Sirius when it came down to Regulus. He was an immovable wall on this subject, always had been.

“Well, I didn’t exactly stick around to check his fucking pulse did I?” Sirius asked. “He was on the floor bleeding, so yes, I expect he’s dead.”

James was exhausted. His mind was reeling and all he wanted to do was sit down on that particularly comfortable-looking patch of moss that they were walking past. 

“We can worry about that later,” James said. “For now, we just need to get to that mountain and get the food.”

So they carried on walking for hours. Placing one foot in front of the other again and again. James tried not to think about the fact that his best friend was a murderer now. He had always known that Sirius would go to horrible lengths when it came to keeping Regulus safe. This was just further proof of that in James’ mind. Sirius’ love had always had a slightly violent edge to it, likely because of how his parents were.

“Reckon we’ve got to swim across it,” said Barty when they came to the shore of a river. They had followed it for a bit, seeing if there was any way they could get around it without having to get in the water. Regulus had helpfully pointed out that there was unlikely to be a bridge and they had all ground to a halt in a place where the river wasn’t that wide. 

“Can you swim Crouch?” Mary’s eyebrows raised. “Got a lovely pool in the Minister’s quarters do you?”

“No,” Barty replied. “But it can’t be that hard can it?”

James didn’t have any time to stop him before Barty was striding into the river.

It wasn’t that wide, perhaps 50 meters across. But Barty was spluttering in the water only a few feet from the bank. Before he drowned, James waded into the eater and grabbed Barty’s thrashing arms, pulling him back into the shallower section of the river. 

“Any more stupid ideas anyone?” Marlene asked.

“Maybe one?” Sirius suggested. He was grinning the same slightly unhinged grin that James had seen on his face several too many times and in one of his hands, he was clutching a large vine which dangled down from a branch that hung far over the river.

“You’re joking right?” James asked. “You think that’s going to hold your weight? That’s the kind of stupid plan that I’d come up with.”

“Any other suggestions?” Sirius asked. No one said anything. “Well then, see you all on the other side then.”

Without a second thought, Sirius was already swinging.

It was only seconds from when he landed on the other bank, whooping out a cry of delight and turning back to look at the others, vine still clutched in his hand as he grinned, before the spear flew out of nowhere and impaled him on the tree behind him.

Chapter Text

E U P H E M I A

“What’s the update, Effie?”

Euphemia tore her eyes away from the screen before her where her eyes were fixed on James’ pulsing heart rate. Alastor Moody was hurrying into the room with Edgar Bones right beside him. Alastor was the head of security on the Elder and worked on the council alongside Euphemia. She had always thought him rather callos and that was before he pushed for her husband’s death and her son’s imprisonment.

“We lost all comms systems in the landing,” said Kingsley from his place beside Euphemia. “We have no radio system, no voice or video communications at all and no way to communicate with them. The wristbands are all we have now.”

“Okay, fine, so what do we know?” Alastor asked.

Euphemia breathed in a heavy sigh. “We know they were off course when we lost contact with them. They likely didn’t land in the right place.”

“What does the dark tile mean?” Alastor asked, looking at the singular faded tile on the screen where the darkened picture of a young boy stared out at them.

“Deceased,” Euphemia said.

“Radiation?”

“Unlikley, the most likely scenario is that he was injured during the landing.”

Alastor nodded. “And what are the vitals of the rest of them telling us?”

“Spiking,” Euphemia said. “Two possibilities; they were injured during the landing or -”

“Radiation?” Alastor asked.

“No, it wouldn’t manifest like this,” Euphemia said. “The second possibility is that they’re excited to be there.”

She looked back towards the screen again, eyes darting away from James’ tile for a moment to check on Regulus Black’s. She hadn’t had the time to find Sirius yet. When she did, she was hopeful that it wouldn’t be with the news that Regulus had died. But his vitals looked normal, slightly elevated in the same way James’ were.

“So we’re blind?” Alastor asked. “We still don’t know any more about the conditions on the ground?”

“We know how they affect the human body now at least,” said Kingsley. “That’s more than we’ve had for 100 years, so I’d say that’s some progress.”

Alastor grunted his ascent. “So, when should signs start showing if there is radiation present?”

“I’ll update you as we go,” Euphemia said. “But we aren’t seeing any signs of that at the moment.”

*

“How are you doing Effie? How’s James?” Emmeline Vance approached Euphemia some hours later. Euphemia was sitting in front of a monitor beside Frank Longbottom, who was trying to extract GPS information from the wristbands so that they could at least have an idea of where the 100 had landed. It wasn’t going particularly well.

Euphemia glanced once again at James’ tile on the screen as she had been doing every thirty seconds since she had last seen him.

“Vitals are all strong, he doesn’t seem to be injured,” Euphemia said. “His blood sugar is low though. He hasn’t eaten.”

The phone beside the desk rang and Euphemia reached for it.

“This is Dr Euphemia Potter,” she said.

“Ma’am you’re needed in the medbay. We have just located Bartemius Crouch, Ma’am, he’s been shot.”

Years and years of medical training kicked in all at once and before she knew it, Euphemia was on her feet barking orders.

“Shacklebolt, get a hold of Pomfrey and tell her I need as much A neg as we can get in the OR now and for her to get there as soon as possible-”

“Effie what’s happened?” Alastor Moody demanded from his own desk where he was already half on his feet.

Euphemia was already by the door, on her way out of the room.

“The Minister has been shot,” she said, before hastening off to the OR to save Bartemius Crouch’s life. 

Now, Euphemia had never really liked Barty Crouch Senior. He was a straight-laced man, always stuck to the rules. She wasn’t certain that he knew how to bend them if it would save his life. But he was a good Minister, there was no denying that. He listened to the council and actually cared about the people of the Elder. They couldn’t risk losing that now.

After several hours of work, they had stabilised him enough to be confident that he would make a full recovery. It was gruelling work, but they had found him with enough time that he hadn’t bled out too much. She didn’t even need to go over the allowed ration for blood, she thought she might’ve if she had to.

“Perhaps you should get some sleep?” Poppy Pomfrey suggested as they cleaned the Minister’s blood off of their gloved hands.

“I need to go back,” Euphemia said.”I need to update the council. Can you do me a favour though? Can you check up on Sirius for me? Tell him to come and find me. He should know what’s going on.”

“Of course,” Poppy frowned. Euphemia wished she could tell her what was going on, but it was safer for now if only those with clearance knew what was going on.

“Thank you,” Euphemia said. With a slightly tired sigh, she headed off back to the council chambers.

Sirius Black was her son’s best friend. Ever since they had met at age 11 in school, they had become practically inseparable. When Sirius’ parents had been floated, he had only been sixteen and had been left all alone. Without a second thought, Euphemia and Fleamont had taken him in. He was like a second son to her, she loved him just as much as she loved James. Her heart lurched at the prospect of having to be the one to tell Sirius where James and his brother were.

She hurried into the council chambers, sighing a deep sigh of relief when she saw that James’ tile still showed a heartbeat pulsing away. She checked Regulus’ next and saw similar vitals to James’. The council chambers were fuller than normal, anyone with enough clearance to know about the mission to earth was here, all watching screens and working on what little information they could.

“Any updates?” Euphemia asked, drawing all eyes in the room to her.

“Two more dead,” said Kingsley, pulling up the deceased tiles to show her. “Avery and Mulciber. One second they were fine and the next we lost them.”

“Well that’s not radiation then,” Euphemia replied curtly. “We’d see signs of deterioration first if it were.”

“What about the Minister?” Alastor asked.

“Stable. He’ll make it,” Euphemia confirmed. “Do we know who shot him?”

“Yes,” Alastor grunted. “Maybe you should sit down Effie?”

“What?” Euphemia blinked.

“Just sit,” Alastor said.

Frowning, Euphemia did as he suggested, staring up at him with confused eyes.

“Who?” She asked.

“Sirius Black was the shooter,” Alastor said. “We have reason to believe that he snuck onto the shuttle after doing it and is now on Earth with the 100.”

“What?” Euphemia felt her ears start to ring. “How on earth could he have known about the shuttle?”

“Well, his motivations are clear,” said Alastor. And yes, of course, his motivations were clear; his brother. This was exactly why Euphemia hadn’t told Sirius anything about the Shuttle. He was reckless when it came to Regulus’ safety. “But we have the exact same question about how he knew.”

Euphemia started at Alastor, dumbfounded. “You think I told him?”

“Did you?” Alastor cocked an eyebrow.

“No, of course not!”

“Okay,” Alastor said. His eyes were narrowed enough to suggest to Euphemia that he didn’t believe her at all.

*

R E G U L U S

As they ran it started to rain. The water hit his face and made him gasp from the cold. It would have been thrilling to feel the rain on his skin for the first time if not for the circumstances. He didn’t quite have it in him to register it. All he could do was allow Barty to pull him along beside him as the image of that spear connecting with his brother played out in his head over and over again.

I hate him, Regulus thought.

I love him, the horrible feeling in his chest screamed.

He’s dead , his brain reminded him.

Regulus was greedy with his brother. He always had been. He was greedy with this grief too. It wasn’t fair that James Potter had been the one howling on the ground the second that Sirius had been speared. It wasn’t fair that tears spilt down James Potter’s face as Marlene pulled him back and he fought to get to Sirius. It wasn’t fair that Regulus found himself rooted to the spot as another spear flew towards them.

Regulus was greedy with his brother in many ways. One of those ways was that he was quite upset that someone else had managed to kill Sirius before Regulus had gotten the chance. It would be more poetically justified for Regulus to kill his brother than some random person in a forest with a spear.

As it was, Regulus didn’t think there was any poetic justice in Sirius being dead. He decided that he felt numb to it more than anything else. Sirius Black couldn’t just be dead. But it appeared that he was. Regulus decided to deal with this fact later, perhaps when they weren’t running for their lives through a forest.

They were running hard, only the sound of heavy breathing, heavier footfalls and James Potter’s sobs accompanied them. That and the strange buzzing in Regulus’ ears which he couldn’t shake.

“Stop, we should stop,” Marlene panted, grinding to a halt at the black of the group. They hadn’t gone nearly far enough away from the spear wielding lunatics for Regulus’ liking.

“Stop running from the spear-wielding crazy people?” Barty demanded. “I don’t think so McKinnon, keep going!” This was another one of those moments when Regulus thought that Barty Crouch was much smarter than he let on.

“Oh I’m sorry for being out of breath, Potter is heavy!” Marlene complained. Marlene hadn’t been carrying James Potter, but she had been dragging him.

With clenched teeth, Barty ground to a halt and released Regulus’ arm from his hold. Regulus hadn’t noticed how vice-like Barty’s grip was until it was gone. Regulus suspected that it would bruise.

He turned back to the group as Barty did. James Potter was on his knees beside Marlene, panting and sobbing.

“We have to go back!” Potter said. “We can’t just leave Sirius like that!”

“Black’s dead Potter, there’s no use us being dead too,” Mary shot at him. She was bent over slightly, hands on her knees, breathing heavily from all of the running.

“He’s not dead - he can’t be!” Potter replied through sobs.

“He is,” Regulus responded. James’ head whipped up to look at him and Regulus suddenly felt very much like Potter’s brown eyes were boring beneath his skin and pulling out the grief he was doing so well at keeping off of his face.

The way James Potter’s face screwed up made Regulus want to crumble right where he stood. But Regulus wouldn’t. He knew when to cry and when not to cry. He could cry when he was alone in their room when his parents weren’t about to come back. He couldn’t cry when there were people near him; it never led to anything good. 

Regulus clenched his jaw and swallowed heavily. 

“There are people down here?” Marlene demanded once she had caught her breath. “People are still alive down here?”

“We don’t know that for certain,” Mary squeaked. “It could’ve been-”

Screams ripped through the forest. Screams that Regulus would know anywhere, in any lifetime. He knew what his brother sounded like when he was in pain.

Before Regulus could quite comprehend what he was doing, he was running back in the direction they had just come from.

Sirius wasn’t dead.

He was alive and in pain.

“He was right there!” Potter said, careening through the trees at the river bank beside Regulus, only seconds behind him. James Potter was right. There was a blood stain near the tree where Sirius had been skewered. But both Sirius and the spear were nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s he gone?” Marlene asked, skidding to a halt.

“They took him,” Regulus muttered quietly. It was the only explanation. There was someone else in this forest, some other human-like species who had enough mental faculties to craft a spear and throw it with painful accuracy.

“Who are they?” Barty asked. Regulus glanced over at his new friend and saw his eyes were slightly wide with what Regulus assumed to be fear.

“We have to go after him!” Potter said immediately. 

“We don’t even know where he was taken!” Marlene said. James didn’t seem to be listening, he was already running to grab ahold of a vine.

“Potter!” Malene spat. “James, stop for a second and listen to me!”

James moved as if he was about to swing across the river, but stopped abruptly when Marlene crossed over to him and slapped him on the face hard enough to whip his head around to one side.

“Stop James,” Marlene said. “We need to take a second here! They haven’t killed him- whoever they are. But they’ve got weapons and they’re not afraid to use them. We don’t stand a chance.”

“He’s my best friend, McKinnon, I’m not letting him die out there!” James spat back, a red mark was already forming on his cheek.

“I’m not letting you run off on a suicide mission less than 12 hours after we landed on this planet!” Marlene said.

Ah, Regulus thought, so the two of them were actually friends then. McKinnon and Potter that is. They hadn’t done much more on the walk other than ignore each other, but yes. There was something in Marlene’s eyes that suggested to Regulus that she did indeed actually care about what happened to James.

“I can’t just leave him, Marlene,” James said, his tone slightly pleading.

“What if he’s already dead?” Marlene asked.

“Then I’ll bring his body back,” James replied quickly.

“And we’ll end up having to drag yours back as well,” Marlene said. “The best thing we can do right now is head back to the others and make a plan.”

“But Sirius-”

“Drop it, Potter. There’s nothing we can do for him right now,” said Barty.

James turned next to Regulus. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, leftover tears still making them look glassy. 

He wants me to take his side , Regulus realised quickly. He’s expecting me to go charging off after Sirius too .

Sirius would do it for me.

It’s a stupid plan.

I’m not Sirius.

“They’re right,” Regulus said. “We’re no help to him if we’re all dead.”

Without another word, before he could back down, Regulus turned and headed back off into the woods whilst his heart screamed at him to turn back around and help his brother.

*

Regulus thought it took far less time to get back to the shuttle than it had taken to get to the river originally. They hadn’t even been halfway to their destination of the mountain when they were turned around, but night had fallen by the time they got back to the shuttle.

People were not using the opportunity to sleep though. 

Someone had started a fire near the shuttle’s entrance. Mulciber, the guy who had taunted James Potter before they had left, was gathered with a group around the fire. In the darkness that encroached Regulus could make out the forms of other people. 

It seemed like one of Mulciber’s friends was crouched over a stump with his wrist outstretched, and a girl bought a rock down heavily on the bracelet which sprung open.

“Where’s the food then Potter?” Mulciber rose from his place lounging on the floor when he noticed them.

“We didn’t get it,” James replied. His voice was slightly horse now, must’ve been from all of the crying. “What are you doing?” He wasn’t addressing Mulciber now, but the two people by the tree stump who were now swapping positions.

“Whatever the hell we want,” replied Mulciber. “What does it look like to you?”

“Looks like you’re being fucking stupid,” James replied. His tone was suddenly cold. “These bracelets,” he raised his own wrist. “Are the only way we have of communicating with the Elder. If they think we’re all dead they won’t follow us down here!”

“And why would we want them to follow us down here?” Mulciber asked, an eyebrow cocked. Mulciber was getting on Regulus’ last nerve. His nerves were fried as he longed to be alone, just for a few moments, so that he could properly unpack everything that had happened that day. He was also tired, no, exhausted really. But even with all of this being true; Regulus could pick up on one thing. Mulciber wanted to be the leader, he wanted the group to follow him.

“Because we need them if we plan on surviving!” James roared in response.

“Calm down Potter,” Marlene placed a calming hand on Potter’s arm. “That’s not the main concern right now. We were attacked.”

One of the other boys who had been sitting near to Mulciber rose to their feet now. Regulus regonised Peter Pettigrew from earlier that day. “Attacked by what? Where’s Sirius?”

James let out a choked kind of noise.

“Don’t think what is the right question to ask,” said Barty, who had been suspiciously quiet. Regulus thought that it was likely the quietest that the boy had ever been. “I think we should be asking who .”

“What?” Mulciber frowned.

“No, who ,” Barty said.

“Did you see someone?” 

A crowd had started to gather as the news spread that the group who had gone to get food had returned. Shadows joining them from the darkness. The girl who had spoken had been in Regulus’ class for survival skills. He recognised her just from her white-blonde hair which was so pale that she looked a bit like a ghost by the light of the fire. Pandora was her name, if Regulus remembered right.

“I think the two spears lobbed at us were pretty telling,” said Barty.

“When the last man from the ground died on the Elder, he wasn’t the last grounder,” Mary said, looking around at the crowd. “We’re not alone down here. There are other humans here, or human enough that they can craft a spear and throw it pretty well.”

“Where’s Sirius?” Peter Pettigrew asked again.

James let out another one of those horrible choked noises. 

“Ask the spear that got him,” said Barty blandly. 

“He’s dead?” Peter reeled back.

“No he’s not,” Regulus found himself saying forcefully. He suddenly felt too many eyes on him. As if their gazes had weight, he found that he struggled to breathe slightly.

“They took him,” Marlene offered. “We heard them dragging him off after they struck him.”

There was a collective intake of breath around the clearing.

“If there are still people down here that’s good right?” Pandora said, looking around at the group. “It means we can survive down here too. The radiation won’t kill us.”

“Yeah, but what about the people? They don’t sound so friendly,” said someone else who Regulus didn’t know.

“Peter, where’s your wristband?” James asked suddenly.

“What about whatever the hell we want don’t you understand?” Mulciber demanded.

“How many Mulciber?” James asked. “How many have you taken off?”

“27 and counting,” Mulciber said, sounding very smug about it.

James’ features hardened. “You fucking idiots!” He took a deep steadying breath before continuing, “The Elder’s life support is failing. They’ve only got a few months left. They need the information from the bracelets as much as we need them! We need their help against whoever is out there! Taking off the wristbands isn’t just killing them, it’s killing us too!”

“Don’t listen to him,” Mulciber snarled and then turned to the group at large. “He’s one of the privileged. His mum is on the council. If they come down here, he’ll have it good. Not like the rest of us! The wristbands? They make you prisoners. We are not prisoners anymore! We’re fighters- survivors! The grounders should be afraid of us! Who’s with me?”

A chorus of cheers sounded through the gathered crowd.

“So who’s next?” Mulciber roared. “Who wants to be freed?” Regulus noticed that Mulciber was staring at the wristband on James’ wrist with narrowed eyes. Regulus thought that was interesting. It made sense. James’ mother was on the council. James was apparently sensible and noble enough to get himself locked up because he thought people should know about what was happening to the Elder. If James took his wristband off then the Elder really would believe they were dying. Because James wouldn’t take it off by choice, he just wouldn’t.

“Sign me the fuck up!” Barty grinned and walked forward. “Get this shit off me!” Regulus didn’t expect that Barty taking his wristband off would have the same effect as James doing so. On the group at large or on those watching the vitals on the Elder. But Mulciber seemed satiated enough. The Elder thinking the Minister’s son was dead would tide him over for now.

There was a scrambling of people clambering to get the wristbands taken off. Regulus saw the opportunity to slip away unnoticed and quickly did so. He circled around the back of the shuttle where the light from the fire didn’t reach and sat with his back pressed up against the cool metal.

Finally, he allowed himself to cry. Great guttural sobs that came from deep within his chest, within his soul itself. In his miserable life, there had always been one fact that Regulus was certain of; Sirius would be okay. He was invincible in Regulus’ opinion, no matter how many how many hits he took, even ones that left him spitting blood or holding his ribs, he always got back up. 

When that spear pierced him, it was as if Regulus’ perception of the world had shifted. If Sirius wasn’t invincible then no one was.

But despite what he had feared for a few moments earlier that day, Sirius wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. And if Sirius had any life left in him, Regulus knew that he would fight tooth and nail to survive.

Now it was Regulus’ turn to save his brother and he wasn’t planning on letting him down.

Until Regulus saw Sirius’ cold dead corpse, there was still hope for them.

Chapter Text

J A M E S

James had wanted to get some supplies, maybe a weapon and then run straight back out into the night to go and find Sirius. He had thought it was as good a plan as any.

Marlene however seemed to have more sense than he remembered her having. 

“You need sleep James,” she had said. “Just lie down for a few hours at least, we’ll go back out to find him when the sun’s up. No use us scrambling around in the dark really is there?”

James didn’t like that what she said made sense. He grumbled about it, but he did as she suggested. He spent several dark hours scrounging together whatever supplies he could find and managed to find a bit of torn metal that would work okay as a knife before he finally lay down to get some sleep.

He dreamt of his father in the airlock. He did that most nights. Waking up screaming himself horse or in a cold sweat. Even in the dreams, he never could save his father. 

When he woke, it was light outside. The fire had died down, there were signs of groggy people slowly waking up. People dipping off behind trees to relieve themselves and stretching out sore muscles from a night of sleeping on the ground or hunched on one of the seats in the shuttle.

“You’re up early,” Regulus Black said. He was leaning up against a tree and watching James carefully. 

“So are you,” James remarked.

“Going off by yourself to save Sirius?” Regulus asked. “Thought you might be smarter than that. But I suppose Sirius’ stories were biased by the fact that he was in love with you.”

James frowned. “Sirius isn’t in love with me.” This was more than James had heard Regulus say throughout the entire day of walking yesterday. His voice was smooth and actually quite pleasant to listen to. 

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Not like that he isn’t. He’s just obsessed with you is all.”

“I’m obsessed with him too,” James admitted quickly. “Which is why I can’t leave him out there by himself.”

“C’mon then,” Marlene appeared behind him, a pack slung over her shoulder too. “Let’s go get him.”

“You coming?” James asked Regulus.

Regulus frowned but nodded. “We need more people if we stand a chance.”

“I’m coming!” Peter was scrambling down the ramp of the shuttle.

“Absolutely not,” James scowled.

“Oh come off it Potter, we need all the help we can get,” Marlene replied, swiftly silencing James’ protests with a pointed look.

“Mary?” James asked. 

Marlene shook her head. “She needs to stay here. She grew up on farm station and she was going to apprentice with the engineers. She’s our best shot of getting the comms back up and running.”

“Barty, you coming?” Regulus asked. Barty Crouch was walking over to them from somewhere nearby.

“Oh hell no,” Barty frowned. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither should any of you.”

James watched as Regulus’ face suddenly turned cold. “You expect us to just let my brother die?”

“That spear was thrown with pinpoint accuracy from at least 50 meters, we’re lucky the second one missed! Going back out there is suicide. I’m a fan of being alive thank you! I’m going to stay here and build a fucking wall between us and whatever’s out there.”

“We’re wasting time,” James growled. “Four is enough.” 

“Like hell it is,” Regulus’ face was scarily devoid of emotions. “Give me a second.” He pushed himself off of the tree he was leaning against and moved over towards the smouldering remains of the fire. “Mulciber!”

James’ eyes widened as he walked to moved to stand in Regulus’ way. “What are you doing?”

“Getting us the help we need,” Regulus replied swiftly. “Get out of my way Potter.”

James didn’t move, Regulus quickly stepped around him. Mulciber was on his feet now, looking over at their little group. 

“What do you want Black?” Mulciber asked. “It’s too early for this.”

“I want you to come with me to get my brother back,” Regulus said.

Mulciber laughed. “Why would I do that? I hate the bastard.”

A cold smile flickered onto Regulus’ face. His eyes flickered over the clearing. “Scared of the big bad grounders are you Mulciber? Playing a different tune than you were last night.”

Mulciber’s eyes narrowed.

“Shouldn’t be a problem for you should they?” Regulus said.

James could have laughed if he wasn’t so miserable. Regulus Black, who to this point had done little more than punch his brother and remain silent was standing in the middle of their makeshift camp where everyone could see him and calling the leader of the brutes scared.

It was a clear challenge. The group was unsettled already. Mulciber had done a decent enough job at pulling them together the previous night. If he was seen to be scared of the grounders, he would likely lose any hope he had.

James suddenly looked at Regulus in a new light. He had been quiet but he had clearly been watching . He was more perceptive than James had thought. Suddenly James found himself wondering if Regulus would go to the same lengths as Sirius for his brother.

He was playing with fire though. Mulciber had been put in lockup for trying to stab a guard. James remembered that one, it had been big news back on the Elder when it happened.

“Fine, Avery, you’re with me. Crabbe, maybe help Crouch with his little wall?” Mulciber barked at a few of the other boys gathered around. James regarded the group properly now. He shuddered slightly when he realised that all of the people Mulciber was spending time with were the violent criminals. Not the ones like Regulus who was only there for his birth, Marlene for stealing medicine, Mary for getting caught stealing some of the mushrooms from the lab to get high. No, these were the kids who got caught fighting guards or in Mulciber’s case, trying to kill one. They were not the kind of people James wanted to be fucking with. 

He supposed he didn’t really have a choice. 

It was for Sirius.

Anything for Sirius.

“Excellent news.” Regulus’ lips quirked up into a little smirk. “Let's go then.”

Without another word, Regulus stalked off. James exchanged a look with Marlene, before hurrying off after Regulus.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” James muttered when he caught up to Regulus at the tree line. A glance over his shoulder told him that Peter, Marlene, Mulciber and Avery were following, but likely wouldn’t hear him if he kept his voice low. “They’re dangerous Regulus.”

“That’s exactly what I’m counting on,” Regulus replied curtly.

“We should watch our backs with them,” James said, shooting another furtive glance over his shoulder at Mulciber.

“We?” Regulus repeated, glancing quickly over at James, then quickly returning his eyes to staring straight ahead.

James frowned, “yes, we.”

“There is no we,” said Regulus flatly. “There is me and Sirius, then there is you and Sirius. There is no we. We don’t know each other. You should be the one watching your back with them Potter.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James felt his frown deepen as he clutched the makeshift dagger he had found earlier in one hand. 

Regulus’ eyes were narrowed as he regarded James. The younger boy seemed to decide not to reply. Pursing his lips and looking determinedly to the trees ahead of them.

“Hey Potter, what’s the rush about?” Mulciber taunted sometime later. “Bet Black’s already dead anyway, can’t survive a spear to the heart.”

“If the spear had struck him in the heart he’d have died instantly,” James growled through gritted teeth. “He screamed when they moved him, so it didn’t strike his heart.”

Behind James, Mulciber snorted, as if he was finding the whole thing funny. “ I doubt Black even has a heart, based on what he did to his parents and all.”

James tensed. Lips parted to speak, but before he could come up with a suitable response, Regulus spoke again from just ahead of James, turning around to walk backwards so he could meet Mulciber’s eyes.

“That the best you can do?” Regulus drawled. Eyes devoid of any emotion. “I’m sure you can think of something better. Keep trying.”

Jesus, did this kid have a death wish? Why had Sirius never mentioned Regulus’ tendency to be a little shit at every turn? Was that new? Had it come from the two years of being in lock up?

The best way James could describe what Mulciber did next was a growl. A sort of animalist groan punched out from him.

“Where are we even going?” Marlene asked, glancing between Mulciber and Regulus. “How do we even start to look for him?”

“We’re going back to the river,” James replied hastily. Whilst packing up his small pack of supplies James had been going over how he planned to get Sirius back. Contrary to popular belief ( cough Sirius cough ), James was actually quite good at coming up with plans. 

“And then?” Marlene asked.

James blinked back at her as they fell into step beside each other. “And then we follow his tracks.”

“His tracks?” Marlene repeated.

“Yes, his tracks,” James replied.

“And how do we know what his tracks are?” Marlene asked. She was taking the air of an exasperated teacher with him, which James’ frayed nerves didn’t really appreciate.

“I dunno McKinnon!” James burst out. “Like in movies and shit. We’ll know what we’re looking for when we see it.”

“Okay, fine, say we can follow his tracks. What’s to stop the spear-wielding freaks from still being there?” Marlene all but rolled her eyes as she spoke.

“Were you guys being quiet on the way to the river?” Peter jogged slightly to catch up with them. Peter was clutching a map of the area in his hands James retained his trustworthy approach of not looking directly at Peter, trying to tune him out. 

“Not really,” Marlene said. “They’d have heard us coming a mile off.”

“But they didn’t attack you when you were on this side?” Peter pressed, pointing out the close side of the river on the map.

“Yes that’s right,” said Marlene.

“But they waited until Sirius was across the river?” Peter asked, moving his finger to point at the far side, which was marked on the map as a part of ‘Hallow Mountain National Reserve’. The river twisted around the mountain, jutting off into different tributaries all over the place. It effectively encircled the mountain almost completely.

“Yes, we’ve said that.” Marlene nodded.

Years of working together on group projects, playing video games and sharing inside jokes meant that James’ brain caught up to Peter’s pretty quickly.

A small ‘oh’ punched its way out of James’ lips, “The river’s a boundary.” 

“What?” Marlene frowned, not as attuned to the train of thought as James and Peter.

“They’ll attack us if we cross,” Peter said, nodding.

“Which means that the whole area around the mountain is probably off-limits,” James added. 

Marlene had clearly caught up with the pair of them because she paled. “What are we gonna do for food?”

James sighed helplessly. He suspected he had whiplash from the bumpy landing or perhaps it was from sleeping on the cold hard ground the previous night, his neck ached. Everything was moving too quickly, his head hurt and his neck ached and suddenly the pack on his back felt too heavy.

He heaved a heavy breath, forcing his breathing to remain even. Refusing to give into panic.

Peter and Marlene were looking at him slightly imploringly as if he should be the one to supply the answer.

How the fuck did they all end up here? Marlene and Peter were two of his oldest friends. How on earth did all three of them end up… well on earth? Criminals the lot of them. Marlene, the girl from across the hall, an orphan now, she hadn’t been the last time James had seen her. And Peter…

Very suddenly, James remembered that he hated Peter. He tore his eyes away from the boy’s pale face to look back ahead. Deciding to focus instead on Regulus’ back as he made his way through the trees.

“I don’t know,” James admitted. “Think we can only deal with one thing at a time, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Marlene said shakily. “Yeah, get Sirius back, then worry about dying of starvation. Wonderful.”

*

When they made it back to the river, it became immediately apparent that Sirius had been brought back to the near side of the river after they had left. The first sign was the blood splatters alone on the shore where they had stood yesterday, which would have been enough to tell them that. The second sign was that James found Sirius’ gun (the one he had likely shot Bartemius Crouch with, but James tried not to think about that) lying on the rocks beside a larger streak of blood. He quickly shoved it in the waistband of his pants before Mulciber or Avery could spot it.

The blood was all dry. Peter suggested that this was because it had been a while since Sirius had been there. He had been nattering to Marlene about the skills they had learned in their survival classes in lockup for most of the walk. James had been doing his best to tune Peter out.

After this, they searched the shoreline for a while, staying quieter now, as if they were already behind enemy lines. James half expected a spear to fly out of the woods and skewer him like Sirius at any second. The woods remained empty.

“Might be easier if we split up?” Avery suggested after around 30 minutes of searching. “We could cover more ground if we did.”

James hated the idea. He thought it was a terrible, terrible plan. The rest of the group did not agree.  He did, however, put his foot down at the prospect of being paired off with Peter.

“I’ll go with Regulus,” James said quickly, eyeing Marlene pleadingly. 

Despite clearly having spotted the tension between James and Peter, Marlene looked at him questioningly. James tried to convey with his eyes only a ‘ I’ll explain properly later’ . Marlene must’ve understood, because she grabbed Peter’s arm and hauled him off.

“Don’t go far!” James whisper-shouted after them. “Find us if you find anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marlene shot back.

“You guys too,” James turned to Mulciber and Avery. “Regulus and I will take this way.”

Mulciber’s eyes were narrowed, but he didn’t say anything, sloping off into the trees with Avery hot on his heels. James turned back to Regulus and they silently began making their way down the bank, looking out for any sign of Sirius as they walked.

“What did you mean when you said I should watch my back around Mulciber?” James asked after they had wondered aimlessly for quite some time.

“Why do you care what I think?” Regulus replied. His tone was clipped and slightly too formal. Back to the man of few words that James had first observed yesterday.

“I care what everyone thinks,” James answered honestly.

James had always cared what everyone thought for as long as he could remember... His dad used to laugh about it. He had called James ‘his little sun’ because ‘the world revolves around you Beta’ . James liked it when people were talking about him, he knew that wasn’t a sin, it just made him a little self-absorbed. 

‘It’s okay for people to talk about you James,’ his father used to say. ‘Just make sure that they’re saying good things only.’ James had always taken his father’s advice beyond all others. So he did everything he could to make sure that people only thought good things about him.

He smiled as he passed people in the hallways. He helped younger kids with their homework. He volunteered at clean-ups and helped his mother in the medical ward in his spare time. People liked him- they always smiled back when he passed and praised him for going above and beyond to help their kids or thanked him when he stitched up a wound. And he liked it. Being liked that was.

He was used to it. Which was why he came pretty quickly to the conclusion that Regulus didn’t like him.

“That’s a bit pathetic isn’t it?” Regulus frowned.

“So?” James asked. “Why do you think I should watch my back around Mulciber?”

Regulus regarded James for a second, those green eyes flicking up and down him as if the younger boy were sizing James up.

“He wants your wristband off,” Regulus said eventually.

“What?” James placed a hand over the silver metal clamped around his wrist. 

“If the Elder thinks you’re dead then they won’t send anyone down after us,” said Regulus, as if this fact was obvious. 

“Why?” James felt his face screw up in confusion. “I’m no more important than anyone else down here.”

“Do you really believe that?” Regulus asked.

“I don’t understand the question,” James said, feeling as if he was about seven steps behind Regulus. The boy was infuriating to speak to.

“You’re the son of a well-respected council member,” Regulus offered. “And apparently, you're nice ,” he said the word as if it tasted bad on his tongue. “I imagine people like you and such. The Elder sent a bunch of kids down to the ground, of course, they’ll suspect that people are taking their wristbands off because it’s exactly the opposite of what the Elder wants us to do. But you wouldn’t take your wristband off, would you?”

“Not by choice no,” James said, feeling as though he was finally understanding what Regulus was saying.

“Exactly.” Regulus sounded slightly triumphant, a small smirk quirking up his lips. “So if your wristbands goes offline, they’ll know for sure that you’re dead.”

James nodded slowly. “You’re very observant, you know that?”

Regulus cocked an eyebrow. 

“You notice things,” James pressed. “That’s not the impression I got from Sirius about you.”

“Sirius mentioned me?” Regulus asked. His voice had very suddenly gone from the shrewd tone he’d taken to a much softer one.

“Of course,” said James. “Not until… after. But yeah, he talked about you all the time. He loves you.” James hesitated for a second before ploughing on. “You love him too.” It wasn’t a question. James was certain that anyone who Sirius loved with as much fervour as he loved Regulus couldn’t help but love him right back. James knew what it was to be loved by Sirius like a brother.

“He’s my brother,” Regulus said simply. As if those three words encompassed the world within them. It was the exact kind of thing that Sirius would’ve said about Regulus.

James nodded.

“But why are you so intent on getting him back?” Regulus asked, the shrewdness creeping back into his voice as he looked at James with those oh-so-intense green eyes.

“He’s my best friend,” James replied without thinking.

“That’s not it,” said Regulus. James couldn’t help but notice the slight creese in his forehead as his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Of course it is,” James scoffed. “What else is there?”

“You’re so intent on keeping everyone alive,” Regulus noted.

“Yes, of course,” said James. “I don’t want anyone to die.”

“You’re so intent on keeping everyone alive because…” Regulus hesitated for a second. “Because you couldn’t save your father.”

James felt his mouth fall open without him meaning it to so that it formed an ‘o’ shape. 

Regulus’ green eyes suddenly looked triumphant. As if he knew that he had just reduced James' brain to mush. As if he was satisfied that he had bore deep enough beneath James’ skin and exposed the very core of his being. Regulus would be right to think that.

James couldn’t face losing anyone else. His father had been big. So big that the space he had taken up in James’ heart now felt cold and dead, as if it had been jettisoned out of that airlock right alongside his father and was now floating in cold dark space with ice splintering over it. His heart felt so fragile in the wake of that loss.

He couldn’t lose Sirius in the same way he couldn’t lose his mother.

‘To love is to lose sometimes,’ James’ father had told him once when he was around seven and was crying over some girl he had liked. James couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but he knew he had given her a Valentine’s card which she had ripped up in his face.

James couldn’t- no- he wouldn’t lose anyone else he loved. He wouldn’t recover from it.

There was a shout in the distance, which sounded like Marlene. She didn’t sound like she was in pain or panicled, which was a relief.

“Sounds like they’ve found something,” said Regulus, his eyes still locked on James’ face.

Tearing his eyes away from Regulus proved to be a mission. But James succeeded. Without a word, he put his back to Regulus and headed off in the direction Marlene’s voice had come from.

James had been right. Regulus was perceptive. Uncomfortably so. It made something in James’ stomach squirm. As if he was being seen - really seen, all of the ugly truths and things he tried to keep hidden. He didn’t like it. He wanted Regulus to look somewhere else. 

What Marlene had found, was another patch of blood.

The pools were fresher here, according to Peter (with all of his well-honed and tested tracking skills - sarcasm intended). There was a trail through the woods of flattened grass, indicating where someone had been dragged.

They were just setting out to follow the trail when James heard a loud moan of pain from not too far ahead. It had him running before he’d fully registered it.

He crashed out into a clearing to see a tall wooden pole with Sirius strung up against it in a standing position. His shift had been ripped, exposing the place where the spear had penetrated the flesh. He was covered in blood. In his hair, on his face. His arms were bound up over his head, tied off to what appeared to be a metal loop which was hammered into the wood. The pole was thick and looked old and worn- as if it had stood there and fought against the elements for years. Sirius’ head lolled forward against his chest. He didn’t seem to be fully conscious. 

“There’s a poultice on his wound,” Regulus remarked from beside where James had ground to a halt at the edge of the clearing.

James lurched forward, his brain kicking back into action the second someone spoke. Sirius was right there - Sirius was bleeding - and - and James was falling. Falling face-first into a pit of spiked wooden barbs. Then, with a lurch, he wasn’t. Someone had grabbed his wrist and was hauling him up.

He splayed out on the grass, panting, glasses askew, his heart hammering in his chest. He shook his head for a second to clear it, to see that it had been Peter who caught him. The boy was sitting on his butt in the glass beside James, with a hand pressed over his chest.

“It’s a trap,” Avery noted. James became aware of the others around him, peering into the pit and eyeing the ground around it suspiciously.

“What’re they trying to trap?” Marlene asked.

“Us?” Mulciber suggested. For the first time, James noted genuine fear in the boy’s voice. 

“We need to get him down,” James scrambled back to his own feet, not letting himself dwell on the near-death experience. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

James quickly scrambled around the edge of the pit to Sirius, taking his face into his hands and slapping him lightly on the cheeks.

“Hey,” James said quietly, “Sirius, can you hear me?”

Sirius’ only response was a groan. 

“Okay, you’re fine. You’re gonna be fine,” James said, “I’m going to cut you down and we’ll get you back.”

Sirius muttered something that sounded like ‘ruuuurgh’ but James interpreted it as Regulus’ name. “He’s fine. We’re all fine.” James assured his best friend. “I’m just going to cut you down now.”

He pulled the metal shard dagger out of his pocket and started sawing on the ropes holding Sirius in place. 

A loud growl came from somewhere behind James’ back. He heard the group take a sharp breath. Perhaps they should have worried more about what the grounders were trying to trap. It felt like it could be relevant now.

James whirled around and saw- he wasn’t exactly sure.

He had taken biology and whilst there were no animals on the Elder, they had pictures of them in textbooks. They had learned about all of the different species that used to inhabit the planet below them before the bombs. James had never seen something like this in the pictures.

It had three heads. Three of them. Each looked similar to the others. James supposed the thing it looked most like was a dog. But he didn’t remember anything about dogs being that big. It was at least the size of a person, if not bigger. Its body was all muscle. Its teeth were snarling as it padded closer.

If there was one thing James Potter prided himself on, it was staying cool in a crisis. He hadn’t exhibited this particular skill that well in the last 24 hours, especially since Sirius had been missing. But Sirius was here now, James could think clearly again because his best friend was alive.

He reached into the waistband of his trousers and pulled out the gun, cocking it and firing a shot straight at the dog’s middle head. It missed.

“What the fuck?” Marlene shouted, scrambling back with the others, trying to avoid the pit whilst escaping from the growling dog.

James breathed and fired again, and again, and again as the dog charged forward. 

Just a meter away from their group, the dog crumpled to the ground.

James settled his breathing and shoved the gun back into the waistband of his trousers. It wasn’t the first time he had fired a gun. Alastor Moody (affectionately called ‘Mad-Eye’ due to a rather unfortunate lazy eye - James had never liked that nickname), the head of security on the Elder always ran a session for anyone who expressed an interest in becoming a guard once a year. James had learned there how to fire a weapon. He had good aim with a gun. It was the first time however that he had shot at anything other than a target. The first time he had killed anything.

He decided not to think about it.

Without a word, he turned back to Sirius and severed the remaining strands of the ropes binding him. Sirius crumpled to the ground.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Avery asked.

“Maybe that’s what they were trapping?” Peter suggested, his voice coming out as a high-pitched squeak.

“Where the fuck did you get a gun Potter?” Mulciber demanded.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” James replied, hauling Sirius’ dead weight up and looping an arm under his shoulder.

“I would,” Mulciber agreed.

“Well you’re out of luck Mulciber,” James said harshly. “Those were the last shots in it. You’ll have to find a different way to off me. Now c’mon, let's get the hell out of here in case that thing had any friends.”

Chapter Text

E V A N

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Susan Fawley asked when the airlock opened and she was able to move forward and help Evan begin to remove the helmet and suit he was wearing.

“You know I love a good spacewalk, Sue,” Evan replied with a smirk once the helmet was off of his head. 

“How was it out there?” Susan asked, setting the helmet aside on the nearby bench and moving to help Evan with his gloves as they made their way out of the airlock and into the prep room. 

“You know, this old girl’s falling apart at every turn,” Evan said with a frown. “But I fixed the hatch and the valves, should be fine now. Unless some other debris strikes it again.”

“If only we could control that,” said Susan, with a slight sigh.

“There was no damage to B dock though,” Evan said. “I was looking.”

“B dock is off limits and you know that.”

“Sue, an exodus ship was launched. Are you not at all curious about why? People are talking.”

“Engineering said that there was a malfunction during routine maintenance,” Susan replied. “What else would it be?”

Evan shrugged, pulling his arms out of the space suit as he did. “It just doesn’t make sense is all.”

“It’s not your job to ask questions pretty boy,” Susan teased. “Just fix whatever’s broken.”

“Fine fine,” Evan rolled his eyes. “Anyway, it’s visitor day. I gotta go and see if I’m on the list or not. I’ll see you later-” He made to head off, but Susan caught his arm.

“You haven’t heard?” She asked, eyes slightly wide.

“Heard what?”

“There’s some kind of virus going around lockup,” Susan said tentatively. “They’ve quarantined it. No visitors for at least two months.”

“What?” Evan demanded, his heart felt like it had dropped out of his chest and was perhaps rolling around on the floor beneath him. “But Barty’s birthday is only a month away. What if- I’ll never see him again?”

“Oh don’t be like that,” Susan said, worry filling her eyes quickly. “No, of course, you’ll see him again. He’s the Minister’s son, they won’t float him. As long as he’s kept his head down in lockup then he’ll be fine. He’ll get off with a warning at best.”

“You don’t know Barty like I do,” Evan said. “I guarantee he’s not being well-behaved.”

If there was one thing Evan knew about Barty Crouch, it was that he had never been well-behaved in his entire life. He seemed to live to spite rules. Evan had found it thrilling when they first became friends. Now he found it terrifying. He couldn’t handle the idea of Barty being gone.

*

“Hey, Dr Potter,” Evan approached the woman as soon as he spotted her in the mess hall. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something he was missing and he was determined to investigate it.

“Hello,” Euphemia Potter looked up from the table where she was deep in conversation with Kingsley Shacklebolt. “How can I help you?” 

If Evan wasn’t on a mission, he would have swooned at the idea of Kingsley Shacklebolt looking twice at him. Kingsley was the head of Engineering and Evan wanted to be him when he grew up. He was cool, calm and a fucking phenomenal engineer. Everything Evan wanted to be.

“I’m Evan, Evan Rosier. I’m friends with Barty Crouch,” Evan said. “I wanted to visit him today, but they told me that lockup’s in quarantine. I took a walk by there and I saw that the vents were open. I just, well… if it’s a virus wouldn’t the vents be closed?”

Euphemia smiled, which he suspected was supposed to be reassuring. However, the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “The virus isn’t airborne, so the vents are open. There’s no need to quarantine the airflow.”

“What’s the virus?” Evan pressed. “Is it a bad one?”

“You know I can’t tell you that son,” Euphemia replied.

“Don’t call me son,” Evan said immediately without even thinking about it. He winced slightly when he realised how rude that probably came across. “Sorry Ma’am. I just… can you tell me if Barty’s okay? I’m worried.”

Euphemia’s eyes softened. “I’m really sorry, I can’t say that either.”

“Something fishy’s going on,” Evan blurted out.

“Is it?” Euphemia asked.

“Yes,” Evan nodded. “And I’m going to find out what it is.”

*

Evan had learnt at a young age he needed to take what he wanted for himself. His parents had died when he was very young - his father from some virus that had swept through the ship and then his mother to drugs when he was only seven. He had been all alone and fought for everything that he had. 

The only person who had ever fought for him was Barty Crouch. Barty was a firecracker. He was unpredictable and even volatile at times. Evan suspected that was why he enjoyed the boy’s company so much. If there was one person who Evan would fight for in the whole world- it was Barty Crouch. He owed Barty that much.

So that was why Evan found himself crouching in a vent peering into the council chambers. He had never been there before, but he suspected it usually had less action going on. 

He caught the tale end of a voting session from which the Minister himself abstained and rather threateningly said, “You have ten days to prove it to me, Euphemia. No more. We’ll vote again then.” Before the group disbanded quickly.

Evan wasn’t certain what was going on as he hadn’t caught the subject of the vote. He did, however, notice the screens which seemed to be a temporary installation in the room. They all blinked at him through the vents, showing pictures of people and pulsing heart rates beside them. Many of the tiles were greyed out, reading the message ‘transmission terminated’.

“So?” A woman entered the room when it was only Euphemia Potter left at the table, her head in her hands.

“The Minister abstained from the vote to approve the culling,” Euphemia said. “It ended in a tie. We have ten days before the council votes again. He’ll have no choice but to approve it.”

“Okay, we can work with ten days,” the unknown woman placed a reassuring hand on Euphemia’s shoulder. “How’s James?”

“Heartrate is steady but elevated. He’s on the move I think. Nothing to suggest anything’s wrong,” Euphemia replied, glancing up at the screen showing the pictures and heart rates. Evan felt his heart lurch. James Potter, Euphemia’s son, was one of the prisoners in the lockup. Evan didn’t know what he was in for, no one seemed to. They just knew that James Potter had been placed in solitary confinement after committing a crime that had gotten his father floated. 

“Did we lose any more?” The woman asked.

“Five more this morning,” Euphemia said. “We’re down to sixty left. I don’t understand it. One second they’re fine, then the next we lose them. I don’t believe it’s radiation, so what is it that’s killing them?”

“The elements perhaps?”

“Perhaps,” Euphemia Potter nodded. She let out a long sigh, leaning back in her chair as she did. “Ten days to prove that the ground is survivable or we have to kill 300 people.”

Evan shuffled back in shock. The ground, they were talking about the ground. The husk of a planet that they were floating above which wasn’t supposed to be survivable for another four generations. Four more generations were supposed to live and die in space before humanity would have a hope of being able to survive down there, that was what they had always been told.

But Euphemia was talking about her son. Her son, who was supposed to be in lockup. Suddenly the pieces clicked in Evan’s head. The Exodus ship that had been launched, the mysterious virus in lockup. The prisoners had been in that ship, Barty had been on that ship. They were now on the ground.

“What was that?” The unknown woman asked. 

Evan mentally swore as he realised that in his surprise, his foot had banged against the metal of the vent. Both women were now looking in his direction. He began quickly shuffling backwards, but he wasn’t quick enough to get out of sight before Euphemia was able to pop open the vent cover and they were face to face.

“Hello Evan Rosier,” Euphemia said.

“I’ll call security,” the unknown woman said.

“No Emmeline, wait. I’ll speak to him first,” Euphemia said, turning her attention back to Evan, whose whole body had gone cold. “Do you want to come out of that vent so we can have a proper conversation?”

Reluctantly, Evan did as she asked. 

“You’re a sneaky one you,” Euphemia said when Evan had pulled himself free and was standing upright.

He was too busy looking at the screens to properly acknowledge her. His breath caught in his throat when he spotted Barty’s greyed-out tile. ‘Transmission Terminated’ flashed across his eyelids every time he blinked.

“How much did you hear?” Euphemia asked.

“Enough,” Evan replied. “You sent the prisoners down to the ground and now you think they’re dying.”

Euphemia let out another breath. “Yes. The wristbands are the only way we have of communicating with them. We lost all comms in the landing.”

Evan nodded. His mind was doing loop-the-loops. Barty wasn’t dead. It wasn’t possible, so what was the explanation for his vitals ceasing to be transmitted?

“They’re not dying,” Evan said.

“What?” Euphemia frowned. “What do you mean?”

“They’re not dying,” Evan insisted. “You said that one second they were fine and then you lost them? They’re taking them off.”

The other woman, Emmeline, blanched. “Why would they do something so stupid?”

Evan dragged his gaze away from the screen to look at Euphemia just in time to see the woman’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “Because we told them not to.”

“But that’s so reckless,” Emmeline protested.

“We sent a bunch of kids who don’t like rules down to the ground on their own,” Euphemia replied. “We should have expected something like this. Analyse the data we have with that in mind. Let’s see what we can come up with. Thank you, Evan.”

Evan blinked and frowned. “You’re not going to get me arrested?”

Euphemia shrugged. “What would be the point? You’re not going to tell anyone are you?”

Evan immediately shook his head.

Euphemia smiled. “Good, then I think you should get back to work. As should I.”

*

“You’re the one who called in the work order?” Evan placed his tool kit down on a stack of boxes and frowned at Euphemia Potter. 

He had been called out on a maintenance issue on S deck. It was a storage area and was usually off-limits. He had never been to this part of the ship before but it was stacked high with boxes and there were a few larger items which had dust sheets covering them. It would have spiked his curiosity enough without Euphemia Potter waiting there for him, with her arms folded and an unreadable expression on her face.

“Yes,” Euphemia replied.

“You know this area is off limits to people like me,” Evan supplied.

“Not when you’re with me,” Euphemia said.

“Look, if this is about what I heard… I said I wouldn’t say anything and I meant it,” Evan said quickly, mind jumping to the idea that Euphemia may have changed her mind about letting him go and guards could jump out at him any second. He would be floated probably, he was eighteen. There was no tolerance for anyone who stepped out of line. He knew that already.

“Relax,” Euphemia said. She herself sounded very far from relaxed which didn’t comfort Evan at all. 

“You’re not going to hand me over to the guards?” Evan blinked.

“You’re the youngest 0 g mechanic in 70 years,” said Euphemia.

“Well, 73 but who’s counting?” Evan muttered. “Wait, you looked me up?”

“Of course,” Euphemia nodded. “I needed to know who I was up against.”

“You make it sound like we’re against each other,” Evan pointed out. This woman and her strange demeanour were giving Evan whiplash. He felt like he was seven steps behind. He wanted all of the information so that he could solve the puzzle that was Dr Euphemia Potter.

“We don’t have to be,” said Euphemia. “I want to work together.”

“How on earth could I help you?” Evan asked. “You’re on the council, you’ve got the whole ship at your disposal. What do you need me for?”

“The Elder is dying Evan,” Euphemia said. “The 100 prisoners that were sent to the ground? That’s why. We have four months of oxygen stored up, but the life support systems are failing. Engineering are working on the problem, but they say they need six months.”

Evan was shocked, he could only stare at her as she continued.

“My son is on the ground. James’ father, my husband, was the engineer who found the problem. He wanted to tell people, my son wanted to help. It almost got them both killed, it did get my husband killed. Now the council have a choice; pray that the ground is survivable or kill 300 people to buy us the oxygen preserves that we need to give engineering enough time to fix the problem.”

“Oh,” Evan said, rather stupidly. It was a lot of information to take in all at once. He blinked the confusion from his head. “What do you need me for?”

“I have ten days to prove that humanity can survive on the ground,” said Euphemia simply. She moved over to one of the dust sheets, pulling it off of what it was concealing. It was a small drop ship, with enough space in it for two people and little more. It was old. It was probably already outdated when the bombs first went off and likely hadn’t been touched much since well before humanity had retreated to living in space.

“You have nine days to fix this ship up so that I can survive a drop to earth,” said Euphemia.

Evan felt his eyes widen and he regarded the small ship with professional interest. It was a piece of junk, he could tell that just from one glance.

“Why?” Was the only thing Evan could think to say.

“We lost all communication capabilities with the shuttle when it landed,” Euphemia said patiently. “I go down with comms equipment. I find the kids, I tell the Elder. No one has to die, we stop the culling of 300 innocent lives.”

Evan tentatively approached the shuttle, pushing the door open and looking at the control panel. “This thing is a piece of junk. They must’ve found it when they salvaged the Nimbus what, like 50 years ago? It’s old as shit, probably before the bombs, which means it’s more than 200 years old and hasn’t been used since then. You think I can get a 200-year-old escape pod equipped with everything it needs to survive a drop through Earth’s atmosphere in 9 days?”

“I hope so,” Euphemia nodded. “Can you do it or not? Should I try someone else?”

“No!” Evan said quickly, not looking up from the control panel. “Of course, I can do it. But I want to go with you.”

Euphemia frowned. “I’m not putting anyone else at risk for this.”

“Don’t trust my work then?” Evan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like I’ll be in just as much danger if I stay here. This pod can fit two people. I want in.”

“It’s too risky,” Euphemia said imploringly.

“You said your son is down there?” Evan asked. “My best friend is too. He’s like family, neither of us has anyone else. I want to come.”

Euphemia opened her mouth to protest further but Evan held up a hand to stop her.

“Those are my terms, Dr Potter,” he said flatly, cocking his head in the way that he knew made people think he was unwaveringly confident. “Take it or leave it.”

Euphemia hesitated for a moment, eyes raking over Evan’s face, seemingly trying to determine how set on this he was. She clearly worked out that he was unlikely to let this one go. “Well then,” said Euphemia. “You’d better get to work.”

R E G U L U S

Sirius was heavier than he looked. Between James, Regulus and Marlene they lugged him back. Mulciber and Avery dragged the body of the three-headed dog that James had shot with them, muttering something about food. Peter lagged along at the back of the group the whole way.

Despite them having left very early in the day, it had taken them so long to find Sirius that night had once again fallen by the time they arrived at the camp. Sirius remained unconscious for the whole trip.

“They’re back!” Barty yelled when they entered the clearing, hurrying directly towards the shuttle and placing Sirius down on the ground as James quickly began to check him over.

“Who’s hungry?” Mulciber yelled triumphantly as he and Avery dragged the massive dog into view. There were cries of delight amongst the group.

“He’s not dead then?” Barty asked, approaching the group gathered around Sirius.

“He’ll be fine,” James said, his voice sounding clipped. 

James’ sure fingers were probing around the poultice covering Sirius’ wound. Regulus reminded himself again that James’ mother was the head medic aboard the Elder. He had likely picked up these skills from her. The way James had spoken to Sirius in the clearing had made it clear to Regulus that this was not the first time James had treated someone with serious injuries. Perhaps he had even treated Sirius before, all of those times that their parents got a little too overzealous. 

“Someone get me some water and something I can use as a bandage,” James barked. 

Pandora and Mary had already been in the shuttle when they arrived, sitting close to one of the emergency lights and fiddling with a wristband which had clearly been removed from someone’s wrist. Pandora was on her feet hurrying off to get James what he needed.

“What happened out there?” Mary asked

“They were using Sirius as bait to try and catch that thing,” Marlene said, glancing out of the door at where the body of the dog was being regarded by the group, led by Mulciber who had a knife out and was starting to attempt to skin the animal. “We got there first.”

“How did you kill that thing?” Mary asked, gawping at the creature outside. “It’s massive.”

“James has a gun,” said Regulus flatly, finding that he was unable to tear his eyes away from his unconscious brother.

“You have a gun?” Mary asked, blinking.

“Sirius had a gun,” James corrected, his focus not wavering from the wound on his best friend’s chest. James was dabbing at the corners of the wound now with his sleeve, clearing away the worst of the dirt. “I found it.”

“And you know how to use it?” Mary asked.

“I did the guard training session with Mad-Eye,” James said. “I have good aim.”

“Ironic really based on the glasses,” said Marlene.

“But he’ll be okay right?” Regulus prompted, wanting James’ attention only on the job at hand.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine as long as we can stop it from getting infected,” James replied. His voice was very sure. Regulus understood why so many people seemed to like James, he had an air of easy confidence when he spoke. “The poultice stopped him from bleeding out. I’ll remove it tomorrow.”

Pandora returned with the items James had asked for, placing them beside him.

“Do you need any help, James?” Mary asked. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” James said. He dunked a cloth into the water Pandora had bought and began to properly clean Sirius’ chest. “Tell me what’s been happening here, please? Any progress on getting in touch with the Elder?”

“No,” Mary frowned. “The comms system is completely smashed. Practically nothing’s salvageable. I’ve been looking at the wristbands, but I’m not getting far, every time they get removed they die almost immediately. I’m trying to work out how to remove them without them losing signal before I can look at how to use that signal to speak to the Elder.”

“Good, that’s good,” said James. “How about the wall?”

“Started getting together what we could,” said Barty. “Crabbe was actually pretty helpful. He got a bunch of the guys working on it. Give it a week, maybe, and we’ll have a proper wall.”

“Okay, fine,” James said. 

It struck Regulus very suddenly that whilst Mucliber wanted to be a leader, James already was one. Without meaning to, or perhaps without even realising it, everyone stood here was looking to James for direction.

“What about the wristbands?” James asked. 

“People have been taking them off all day,” Mary admitted. “Crabbe was pushing for it.”

James nodded once. 

Was this a war council? Were they at war with Mulciber and his friends as well as the rest of the world? Regulus wasn’t sure. Was James in charge? It felt like he was to Regulus. Regulus wasn’t certain which side he would take if this was a war. He supposed he’d take whichever side benefitted him most. At the moment, it seemed that James was the most useful, especially when it came to keeping Sirius alive.

“Fine,” James began pouring something from a little bottle he had pulled out of his backpack over Sirius’ wound. Antiseptic perhaps? Once he was done with that he wrapped the wound tightly- poultice and all - before he got to his feet.

“That’s all I can really do for now,” James admitted. “I don’t have that many proper medical supplies. But he’ll live.”

All attention was suddenly drawn to Mulciber as he cried out into the crowd for attention. He was standing on top of an overturned crate and addressing the crowd.

“The Mountain that the Elder said we need to survive is out of the question!” He bellowed. “We need to find our own way down here- be self-sufficient. We can’t do that if we’re depending on the Elder to come down and rescue us. We need to be united! United against the Grounders. Show us you’re with us by taking off your wristband! Then we can eat!”

James huffed beside Regulus. “He wants people to take off their wristbands in order to eat?”

“Sounds like it,” Marlene agreed.

“I won’t do it,” James said.

“C’mon Potter, what’d they ever do for you?” Barty asked, showing off his bracelet-free wrists as he spoke. “Even your perfect Mummy agreed to send you down here to die.”

“My mother sent me down here to live,” James replied. “I was going to be floated in two months. The rest of you lot would probably have had your crimes excused when you turned eighteen. Me? I would’ve been too much of a risk to have in the population. That is if life support hadn’t failed before my birthday. My mother gave me a fucking gift sending me down here. I won’t betray her by letting her die up there.”

“How noble,” Regulus muttered. He had meant it sincerely, but it came out as a bit of a condescending remark.

James glared at him.

“I won’t do it,” James repeated. “You lot do whatever you want, but they’ll have to hold me down and cut my hand off to get this wristband off me.

“I’m with you James,” Marlene declared. “I don’t give a shit about anyone up there. But they don’t all deserve to die.”

“Me too,” said Mary. “I might need to grab some of the bands though, then I can look at them better. I’ll see if I can snag some as they’re taken off.”

“I didn’t want to take mine off,” Regulus hadn’t noticed Peter join them, but he was standing at the fringe of the group, looking at James with big apologetic eyes. “They forced me.”

Sides were being chosen here. Regulus had never been good at choosing sides. Even with their parents. He always just tried to sit back quietly and watch what was happening, doing his best to stay out of it until his parents left and he could go to Sirius’ side.

“So, Crouch, Black, you with us or with Mulciber?” Marlene asked bluntly, looking at Barty and Regulus intently. Regulus felt his eyes drop as soon as her gaze landed on him.

“There are no sides down here,” Barty protested. “It’s not us vs them, we all need to work together if we want to survive.” Once again, Barty reminded Regulus that he was actually pretty smart. Regulus was starting to like Barty. “My wristband is already gone, I’m going to eat the fucking food.”

All eyes turned to Regulus, who felt himself shift uncomfortably under the weight of the gazes. Regulus just shrugged. “Don’t give a shit, to be honest. I’m hungry though.” 

The only thing Regulus had ever been good at was self-preservation.

*

A few hours later, when the meat had been cooked over the fire, Regulus was sat beside Barty with his wristband freshly removed. They both munched on some meat and watched as the line of people had their wristbands removed before taking their meals.

Regulus watched as James marched up to the fire and grabbed his own meal.

“What do you think you’re doing Potter?” Mulciber demanded. “Think you play by different rules to the rest of us?”

James’ jaw was set as he glared back at Mulciber intently. “I thought there were no rules. What happened to ‘whatever the hell we want’?”

No one stopped James from walking away from the fire with the food and his wristband still intact. Although Mulciber did glare daggers at the boy’s back as he returned to the shuttle.

Chapter Text

J A M E S

“How’s he doing?” Marlene asked. Plopping down next to James where he was sat with a finger pressed to Sirius’ neck as he took his pulse.

“His heart rate is slow,” James admitted. “I think the wound is infected.” Sirius had been in and out of consciousness for the last three days. He had been moaning and screaming whenever he was awake long enough to realise he was in pain. James had nothing that he could give Sirius to help with this. He longed for some painkillers.

It had been a rough few days. James was worried that if he left Sirius alone then one of the annoyed others who had been kept awake the previous nights by his cries might try and suffocate Sirius to get him to shut up. James hadn’t slept much.

“Mulcuiber’s organised everyone into a watch rotation,” Marlene said. “He’s got people working on the wall around the clock. He’s sent a few people out to try and hunt, get something for dinner. He’s still intent on getting wristbands off. Not many people care enough to stop him.’

“I know all of this. What are you saying, Marlene?” James asked. He ran a hand across his face, scrubbing at his tired eyes and removing his glasses to clean them off on the bottom of his shirt. 

“You should say something again, people listen to you,” she said.

James frowned. “No, they don’t. They listen to whoever’s loudest. That’s Mulciber.”

“Oh please, I know you can be twice as loud as him if you try,” Marlene replied. “Try?”

“If Mary can get the comms up and running then it won’t matter about the bracelets,” James said. “Mulciber’s getting people moving towards a goal. That’s not a bad thing. We do need to build that wall and get something to eat.”

“Yeah but he’s a bad person,” Marlene countered.

“There are no good or bad people Marls,” James sighed. “He’s just scared. We all are.”

“You and your insistence on always seeing the best in people,” Marlene complained.

“Yeah, well it worked out alright for you didn’t it?” James bumped her shoulder. 

Marlene sighed heavily. “What are we going to do James?”

“Right now, I’m just focusing on getting Sirius better,” James said. He glanced over his shoulder at Mary, who was working on the comms system, doing something with the loose wires in the wall that James didn’t understand.  “Mary is looking at the comms, the rest are building a wall. There’s not much more to be done right now.”

“How’s he doing?” Peter approached tentatively.

“How does it look like he’s doing?” James demanded, bitterness encroaching on his tone.

“I’m just trying to help,” Peter offered in a small voice that made James’ heart lurch. 

James put his face into his hands again. “Any progress Mary?”

“That’d be a no,” Mary glanced over. “Sorry, I’m doing what I can.”

“It’s fine, you’re doing amazing,” James muttered. He gazed down at Sirius’ sweaty form. James had removed the poultice as soon as the sun came up the day they got back. The wound had been cauterised under the poultice. For some reason, the Grounders had saved Sirius’ life just to use him as live bait. It made James’ stomach hurt to think about what would have happened if they hadn’t found him when they did. That dog had been large enough to eat Sirius whole.

Sirius’ wound was infected and he was running a temperature. James was at a loss. He had used all of the antiseptic that he could and nothing was helping. The infection didn’t seem to have spread yet, it was isolated in the wound itself and the skin around it. But soon, very soon, it would make its way into Sirius’ blood stream and he would be a goner. 

“My mother would know what to do,” James said. He needed his mother. She always knew what to do, and kept her head cool in a crisis. James had always envied that ability and had done his best to try and learn to be as strong as her.

Sirius let out another guttural cry as James’ eyes rested on the small fire they had lit to give them more light in the shuttle. The smoke was curling up to the ceiling and making its way out of the door. Beside the fire was a knife- a proper one, not the shard of metal that James had used yesterday. 

“You guys want to help?” James asked, looking up at Marlene and Peter who both nodded. “Then hold him down.”

James grabbed the knife and held it under the fire, heating the blade until it was white hot.

“What the hell are you doing?” Mary demanded. She seemed to have abandoned her work to watch the scene unfolding in front of her.

“I need to cut away the infected bits,” James said. He felt a bit sick, but bit it black. This was Sirius he was doing it for. “Keep him still or I’ll end up fucking stabbing him.”

Marlene and Peter tensed Sirius against the floor and James took a heavy breath before taking the burning hot knife to the infected skin and starting to cut.

Sirius’ screams redoubled. 

R E G U L U S

“C’mon Baby Black, you can throw it harder than that,” Mulciber taunted. Regulus was standing in the trees with Barty, Mulciber and Avery. Mulciber had decided that Barty was trustworthy and wanted to see how well he threw a dagger. Barty had dragged a reluctant Regulus along.

Regulus was sure he could throw it harder than that, the dagger had glanced harmlessly off of the tree that was their target and landed on the ground. He was quite put off by the groans that he could hear from the shuttle where his brother still lay, dying for all Regulus knew. 

“Don’t call me that,” Regulus growled. 

“What would you like to be called then?” Mulciber asked.

“My name could be a good start,” Regulus offered. 

Mulciber was saved from having to respond when two of the boys who seemed to answer to him made their way over to them- Crabbe and Goyle. They were two large people, with thick arms and mean faces. Regulus didn’t like them.

“No sign of Willow and Sam anywhere,” the one on the left - Crabbe said.

Mulciber glowered. “They should’ve been back by now.”

“The hunting parties all came back empty-handed,” the one on the left, Goyle, said. “Maybe they went a bit further away to try their luck?”

“Or maybe they’re off shagging,” Barty suggested. All eyes turned to him. “What? We were all thinking it, I’m just the only one with enough balls to say it.”

“Whatever,” Mulciber said quickly. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll come back.”

“What if the Grounders got them?” Avery asked, eyes slightly wide with fear.

“They’re probably lost,” said Mulciber.

“Nick, morale is low. What do we say to people? The dying man groaning all hours of the day isn’t helping anything,” Avery said. “People are scared.”

“They’ll feel better when we get more food,” Mulciber appeared to be deep in thought. “Besides, I don’t expect Black will last much longer.”

Regulus’ eyes narrowed into slits and he was overcome with the sudden urge to throttle Mulciber. He sized the other boy up, he was taller than Regulus and stronger too. Regulus wondered what his chances would be in a fight against Mulciber. He expected that the others would probably help Mulciber out instead of himself.

“We say nothing about Sam and Willow for now,” Mulciber said. “I’m going out hunting, we need some food.”

“Oh hell yeah,” Barty grinned. “Let’s kill something.”

“Not you,” Mulciber said. Barty frowned. “You stay here with Baby Black and make sure that people are safe. If there are Grounders nearby we need to make sure we have someone protecting everyone. You’re a mean shot with that dagger.”

Barty grinned. Regulus thought that Mulciber didn’t sound like someone who wasn’t worried about the Grounders. In fact, he sounded like someone who thought that the grounders probably had taken Sam and Willow

“Avery, you’re with me. Crabbe, you come too. Goyle stay in camp and make sure they’re making progress on that wall.”

“Fine,” Goyle said, jaw set. “But someone had better keep Big Black quiet or I’ll kill him myself.”

At that exact moment, Sirius’ screams redoubled, ripping through the air with more intensity.

“Oh c’mon, let’s just kill him already!” Crabbe complained. Regulus didn’t stop to punch him, though he wanted to. He set off quickly in the direction of the shuttle and saw James Potter crouched over his brother’s writhing body with a knife in his hand.

“You’re not keeping him still!” Potter shouted, “Hold him down!” 

Regulus saw red.

He strode across the floor and grabbed James Potter’s shoulders, wrenching him back away from Sirius. James was larger than Regulus, he was well-built with strong arms and shoulders, but Regulus had taken him by surprise, so he was successful in pulling James back.

“Get off!” Potter complained. His arms lashed out, a bloody knife still clutched in his hand. 

“You’re fucking killing him Potter,” Regulus hissed, getting ahold of James in a headlock and somehow managing to hold him there despite the older boy’s strength.

“I’m trying to save him!” Potter protested, still fighting against Regulus. “I need to cut out the infection!”

“You’re fighting a losing battle there Potter,” Regulus hadn’t registered that he had been followed, but Mulciber was there now too. Barty and Avery standing on either side of him like bodyguards. “He’s a goner already and he’s bumming everyone out with his screaming.”

Potter finally managed to shake Regulus off and stared at Mulciber, breathing heavily. “Oh, I’m so sorry if Sirius is an inconvenience to you. Must really suck for your attempt to get everyone under your thumb. But you said we can do whatever the hell we want? Well, I want to keep him alive. This isn’t the Elder, down here every life matters. We can’t sacrifice the few for the many anymore.”

“He’s a lost cause,” Mulciber replied.

Regulus thought that Mulciber was right. He hadn’t seen Sirius since they bought him back. Sirius was pale and sweat was visible on his brow. His heart lurched at the fact that his brother would likely be dead in a matter of hours.

“Regulus,” James Potter’s voice, calm and even, pulled Regulus out of his trance. “I’ve spent my whole life watching my mother work. Watching her bring people back from almost dead. If I say that there’s hope, then I mean it. I can’t let him die. I won’t.”

The intensity in James’ eyes surprised Regulus. It was as if James was asking Regulus’ permission to keep his brother alive. Regulus didn’t think that James needed his permission. Sirius had survived without Regulus for two years at this point. 

“This isn’t about hope Potter,” Mulciber said. “It’s about guts. You don’t have the guts to make the hard choices. I do. We might as well just put him out of his misery. It’s been three days. He’s not getting any better. If he’s not better by tomorrow, I’ll kill him myself.”

Regulus had to take a stance. In the last three days, he had sided with Mulciber. He was the largest bully in the room, Regulus knew that if Mulciber liked him then he would be protected. He could hide behind Mulciber and use him like a shield. It had worked for years as a survival tactic with Sirius. And Regulus didn’t even give a shit about what happened to Mulciber. 

He did, however, give a shit about what happened to Sirius. 

Before James Potter came along with his healing hands. Regulus had been the one to help Sirius put himself back together.

“I’d like to see you fucking try,” Regulus snarled at Mulciber. “He’s my brother.”

“I’ll go through you too if I have to Baby Black,” Mulciber said sharply, eyes narrowed. 

“Oh you’ll have to,” Regulus spat.

Mulciber looked back at James. “Tomorrow Potter. If he’s not better by sunrise I’ll slit his throat.”

Mulciber turned on his heel and left, Avery followed quickly after him.

“Power-hungry, self-serving jackass,” Marlene muttered, glaring after him. “Doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.”

Barty hadn’t left with Mulciber and Avery. He lingered at the fringe of the group, eyes on Regulus. “Yeah, he might be all of that. But he’s probably right.”

Before he knew what he was doing, Regulus had punched Barty in the jaw. The hit was strong enough that it sent Barty stumbling backwards.

“I fucking told you not to talk about my brother,” Regulus spat.

Barty, the arsehole, laughed. He fucking laughed. One hand cradled his jaw as he straightened up.

“Nice to see that you do have a backbone, Baby Black,” Barty said. “You’re more than a pretty face after all. Go on Perfect Potter, save Big Black.”

A muscle in James’ jaw ticked as he moved over to the fire and held the blade into it again before approaching Sirius. 

Regulus had to leave the room, he couldn’t stand the sound of his brother’s screams.

*

It was quite sometime later when Regulus saw James Potter leave the shuttle. There was blood on his hands and he walked dejectedly over to a bucket of water to wash it off. Once he was done, he sat down heavily on a rock and placed his head in his hands, running them through his already messy hair.

Regulus abandoned his position. He and Barty had been chopping wood to help with the wall. It was well on its way, but Regulus didn’t expect it would do much more than keep animals out. It wouldn’t do that much against people apart from providing an obstacle. 

Regulus had spent his time whilst he was chopping wood considering the likelihood of Sirius’ survival. He had landed on the fact that it was unlikely he would be able to speak to his brother again, despite James Potter’s thoughts.

But, as he had decided before until Sirius was dead, then there was hope.

“The poultice,” Regulus said as he stopped in front of James. 

James looked up. In the light of day, Regulus could see how heavy the older boy was with exhaustion. How much had he slept in the last few days? Very little it seemed.

“The poultice?” James repeated, sounding slightly dazed from tiredness.

“The grounders used it to heal Sirius,” Regulus said. “Did it have any healing qualities to it?”

“Oh, uh, I dunno,” James admitted.

“Do you still have it?” Regulus asked.

“Um, yeah, one sec,” James jumped to his feet, suddenly filled with a purpose he had lacked a few seconds ago. 

He returned moments later, the poultice clutched in his hand as he poked at it.

“It’s some kind of plant,” James said as he stopped in front of Regulus. “I was always shit at knowing plants. I’d reckon it had some kind of healing qualities though or they wouldn’t have used it.”

“If we could work out what the plant was then do you think we could save Sirius?” Regulus asked. 

James frowned. “Maybe? I don’t know. If it had antibiotic qualities to it then yeah. But I don’t know what it is.”

“Give it here,” Barty had floated over to stand beside Regulus whilst James went off to get the poultice. He plucked it from James’ hands and looked at it closely. “I was fucking phenomenal at botany.” Barty mumbled as he inspected the plant in his hands. “Looks like a seaweed I think?”

“Are we near the sea?” Regulus frowned.

“No,” James confirmed. “But seaweeds can grow in lakes and rivers as well.”

“The river,” Regulus whispered in understanding. “It’s got to be from there right?”

“You two want to risk going back to the river with the spear-wielding maniacs again?” Barty stared at them incredulously. “And people call me insane?”

“No one said you have to come,” James shot back.

“Potter, you shouldn’t even go,” Barty replied. “You’re dead on your feet! How much have you slept since we got down here?”

“I’ll sleep when Sirius is better,” James said flatly, exhaustion evident in his eyes. “We don’t have any time to waste, c’mon Regulus, let's go.”

James Potter thought that Regulus was an ally. Regulus supposed that when it came to keeping Sirius alive, he was an ally. Regulus could work with a tentative truce if it meant that Sirius didn’t have to die.

“You’re coming,” Regulus told Barty. 

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Barty protested.

“You’re coming,” Regulus told Barty, more forceful this time. “If you were really that good at botany then you can help us work out what plant it is.”

“You want me to do half a day’s trek to that river and back? With the Grounders out there picking us off-”

“They’re what?” James asked, frowning.

“Willow and Sam went missing on a hunting trip,” Regulus said to James. “Mulciber says he isn’t worried, but some people think the Grounders have got them.”

James nodded once and reached into the waistband of his trousers, pulling out the gun he had used to kill the dog the other day.

“You said that was out of ammo,” Regulus regarded the weapon with interest.

“I lied,” James admitted. “Didn’t want Mulciber thinking there was any use in getting his hands on it. There are two shots left, that’ll have to be enough for us to deal with any grounders who come at us.”

The way James spoke made Regulus think he felt a bit sick at the idea of harming an actual person, even if that person was a Grounder. James was a healer, not a fighter.

“You’re cold-blooded Potter,” Barty commented humorously. “I heard you shot that dog right in the head three times and only missed one shot.”

James swallowed thickly. “I’ve got good aim.” He mumbled.

“Right well then, let’s get going,” said Barty, “With any luck we’ll only come across two Grounders and you can prove that you have good aim to me. I think it’ll be hot to see you with a smoking gun in your hand.”

*

Regulus had deja-vu on his third walk down to the river. Each time it seemed to take less and less time. On the walk this time, even Barty was quiet. James didn’t seem much in the mood for conversation, ploughing on quickly through the woods.

It felt simultaneously like the longest and shortest few hours of Regulus’ life.

“So what does this seaweed look like then?” James asked when they were on the shore of the river. It was a little closer to camp than where Sirius had been injured, having looked at the map now and gotten a better idea of their surroundings, Regulus and Barty knew where the closest part of the river was.

“Like that I think,” Barty pointed to the water. A bit away from the bank, where the water grew deeper there was a red tinge to the riverbed where a red plant was growing.

“We could make a net?” Regulus suggested. “Do you think there are fish in the river?”

Before the conversation could continue, James splashed into the river towards the red plant.

“Do I need to remind you that you can’t swim Potter?” Barty asked. “Neither can either of us, we won’t come in and save you.”

James didn’t need saving. His face was set as he ducked under the water, materialising seconds later with a large armful of seaweed.

“We can’t swim Crouch,” James said, only his head above the water. “But we can fucking stand can’t we?”

Barty hummed in approval. “I suppose you’re right.”

James waded out of the water. Regulus thought for a moment he looked like Poseidon rising from the water like that with windswept hair. 

James made it back to dry land and slung his backpack off of his shoulder, stuffing the seaweed in it. 

“We should get back,” James said flatly. “Sirius might not have much time and Marlene will only be able to hold Mulciber back for so long.”

James was still frowning and Regulus was struggling to reconcile this man with the boy Sirius had told him stories about. Apparently the two of them and Peter used to pull pranks. James now seemed far too serious for any of that. Regulus wondered what James would look like with a smile on his face. Perhaps if James smiled Regulus would be able to understand that the James from the stories and the James in front of him were in fact the same person.

Regulus was just about to open his mouth to try and say something to wipe the frown off of James’ face when the quiet of the day was torn apart by the sound of horns.

“Grounders?” James suddenly looked over his shoulder to the source of the sound. On the other side of the river, a flock of birds had taken to the sky.

“A war cry?” Barty demanded. “Get the fucking gun out, Potter.”

“Or a warning,” Regulus muttered, watching the birds. Then he noticed the fog. It crept through the trees, pouring out in waves as it trickled towards the bank.

“We should run,” Barty had spotted the fog too. It was yellow, in a completely unnatural way and it was thick. Very thick.

“Yeah that sounds like a good plan,” James agreed. The three of them broke into a sprint. The fog moved quickly. It billowed across the river and was hot on their heels.

“We need to find some cover!” Regulus shouted at the others as they ran. “Sounds like that horn was a warning- whatever this stuff is… we don’t want to let it catch us!”

“I know a place!” Barty said. Barty had been out of camp more than Regulus had. Barty slipped away to explore. For someone who claimed not to want to die, he had a startlingly double standard when it came to leaving camp.

Barty led the way, zigzagging through trees until suddenly he ground to a halt and reached down to the ground, wrenching something up.

“Get in! Quick!” Barty beckoned the other two forwards. James threw himself into the hole and Regulus followed him quickly. By the time Regulus had gained his footing, Barty was inside too, slamming the door shut.

“It’s getting inside!” James yelled, gathering up some fabric that had been lying on the ground to stop up a hole in the side of the - were they in a car? An old-school automobile from before the bombs? Yes, that seemed right. It was on its side and had two seats up front with a steering wheel. The back section that the three of them had dropped down into seemed to have its seats folded down, which meant that there was just enough space for the three of them to awkwardly crouch.

“Regulus, help!” Barty yelled.

Together, all three of them stopped up any holes they could to stop the fog from coming inside. It burned to the touch. Eventually, the fog stopped getting inside and they all slumped down, exhausted.

“What the literal fuck is that?” Barty demanded, panting slightly as he peered out of one of the dirty windows. Regulus could just about make out the shape of the fog pouring through the trees above them.

“Are you guys hurt?” James asked. James seemed to have burns all up his arms and he was shakily unscrewing a water bottle. Once he had the lid off he began to pour small bits of water over the burns, hissing slightly as it hit his damaged skin. 

“Not as bad as you mate,” Barty said, taking in James’ injuries.

“I’m fine,” Regulus said, “here, let me do that.” 

He took the bottle from James’ hand and slowly began to replicate James’ actions, dripping little bits of water down James’ arms. James clenched his teeth and let out a noise of displeasure. 

“So the horns were warning us that the fog was coming?” Barty asked, still looking out of the window.

“Not us,” Regulus said. “I imagine it’s a warning system for the Grounders themselves. This stuff is dangerous. We got lucky.”

James’ face paled even more, Regulus didn’t think it was possible for the older boy to look more tired than he already did, but suddenly James looked ten years older. “Do you think it’ll go as far as camp?”

“If it does, they’re in a much better position than us to deal with it. The Shuttle would be an excellent place to hide from this.” Regulus said.

“You’re right,” James breathed. “How long do you think it’ll last? We need to get back to Sirius.”

Barty turned away from the window. “Looks pretty thick to me. Don’t reckon it’ll clear any time soon. That Seaweed is no use to Black if we die, Potter, hunker down for a bit? You look like you could do with a nap.”

Chapter Text

M A R L E N E

“Someone just snap his fucking neck already!” Someone shouted from downstairs.

Marlene clutched the dagger in her hand tighter and glanced anxiously over at Sirius. He was even paler than he had been when James left and he was mumbling incoherently now. Very loudly. It was driving everyone insane. Marlene felt like she was going insane.

It had been several hours before nightfall when the fog had rolled in, causing everyone to come running for the shuttle. Marlene had already been inside, standing watch over Sirius, but people said that the fog had burned them and she saw the evidence of this.

She tried not to think about James out in the woods somewhere burned and dead. She told herself that he had found somewhere to hunker down to survive the fog. He would be back as soon as it cleared.

Mulciber and some of his guys had been missing from camp when the fog appeared as well. Marlene found that she cared less about them than she did about James.

She could count on one hand the number of people she cared about and somehow all of them hand ended up here on the ground.

There was James, of course, her oldest friend. He had been there for her through it all, when her father had been floated and when she got thrown into lockup after making a desperate bid to steal the medicine her mother needed to survive. James had even visited her for the first few months she was locked up. The only thing that stopped him later was the fact that he was placed in solitary confinement.

Mary was here too. Mary had been Marlene’s best friend for years. They had giggled together as kids and braided each other’s hair. 

Peter and Sirius. She cared about them as well. You couldn’t be friends with James Potter and not grow to like his friends. He had excellent taste. But Sirius was dying and Peter had, apparently, betrayed James.

Marlene and Mary had moved Sirius upstairs when everyone else came in. The downstairs area of the shuttle was much larger and could accommodate everyone for however long the fog remained. The upstairs was smaller. It also only had one entrance, a small ladder with a hatch at the top which could be closed and secured from the top.

But Sirius was still dying.

James was probably dead too, unless he had miraculously managed to find somewhere to hunker down and wait out the fog which was cruelly persisting outside of the shuttle.

Sirius whispered loudly.

“Right, that’s it!” Someone yelled from below.

“Marlene!” Peter’s pale face appeared at the top of the ladder, scurrying into the room. “Marls! Goyle’s going to kill Sirius.”

“But Mulciber said we could have until tomorrow!” Mary sprung to her feet. She had been sitting beside Sirius smoothing sweaty hair away from his face.

“Don’t think he cares!” Peter said urgently. “Help me!” He was shoving down the hatch that covered the ladder.

Goyle banged on the underside of it, causing Peter to put all of his weight down on the hatch until he was practically sitting on it.

Marlene threw herself into action, yanking free a loose pipe and jamming it through the handle of the hatch, effectively keeping it in place.

“Oh c’mon!” Goyle yelled, still banging on the hatch. “He’s a goner already- you’re fighting for nothing you idiots!”

Mary’s face was pale in the dim lighting as she looked up at Marlene. “What are we going to do Marls?”

“We wait for James to get back,” Peter offered. “He’ll know what to do, he always does.”

“James is probably dead,” Mary said flatly.

“He was with Barty and Regulus,” Marlene said, shaking her head. “He’ll be fine. He’ll come back.”

Marlene couldn’t stomach the doubtful look in Mary’s eyes, so she elected to ignore it. This was James they were talking about. He’d come through - he always did.

J A M E S

“I have always believed that dark times such as these can bring us together. I think everyone has the right to know what battle we’re fighting. I’m doing this because I want a life for all of you and for my child. Thank you.”

James finally peeled around the corner, fixing his eyes on his father across the room. Fleamont Potter shut off the recording device that he was speaking into and ran a hand over his face, letting out a large sigh. James had noticed the heavy signs of exhaustion on his father’s face over the past months. He hadn’t understood why his father looked so tired until he had overheard an argument between his parents.

The Elder was dying. Fleamont wanted to tell everyone, Euphemia didn’t want her husband to die. The council wanted the whole thing kept a secret.

“You’re telling people?” James asked. 

His father’s head whipped up, “James-?”

“Save it, Baba. I heard you and Mum arguing about it. I know what’s going on,” James said. His heart was fluttering pathetically. He wanted to be braver. He wished he had half of his parent’s bravery.

“James I-” 

“What’s the plan then? You’re going to break into the comms centre and send out that video?” James asked, doing his best to keep his nerves under control. He balled his hands into fists to hide their shaking.

“James-”

“I want to help Baba,” James said. “You’re right. People deserve to know.”

“No!” Fleamont jumped to his feet and crossed the space between them, placing his hands on James’ shoulders. James always felt very small when his father looked at him like this. “James, this is dangerous. I can’t get you involved. I’m doing this for you-”

“Dad, they’ll float you,” James said, his voice became pleading. “I’m not eighteen yet. Let me do it, please. I’ll record the message, I’ll break into the comms centre and distribute it. At least they won’t kill me for it!”

“James, no-”

Fleamont never got to finish his protests. The door banged open and four guards poured in.

“Fleamont Potter, you are under arrest for attempted treason against the Elder. In accordance with our laws -”

“No!” James found himself screaming as the guards grabbed his father roughly, shoving his hands behind his back.

“-your sentence will be carried out after a trial.” The guard finished rattling off the spiel that they were bound by law to say.

“No!” James shouted again, pushing the guards aside so that he could pull his father into his arms. “No Baba, no!” Suddenly, James felt like he did have some of his parent's bravery. He could do this. “I’ll tell them! I’ll make sure people know!”

“Absolutely not!” Fleamont yelled. “James stop!”

“You’re right! People should know, I’ll do it!”

The guards roughly pulled James away from his father. He felt his own hands be jammed behind his back. Without meaning to, he lashed out, his fist colliding with one of the guard’s faces.

“Score!” James woke with a start. The worst part about dreaming about his father every night was the first few seconds when he had to remind himself that his dad was dead.

“What’s that?” Regulus asked.

“Whisky I think!” Barty grinned. He unscrewed the lid and took a gulp, his face screwed up slightly and he smacked his lips against each other. “Way better than that shit they make on Farm Station.”

James blinked the sleep from his eyes.

“Is the fog gone?” He asked. His voice sounded scratchy to his own ears.

“It’s starting to clear,” Regulus said. “But not gone yet.”

“Is it the morning?” James asked.

“A few hours off yet,” Regulus said. “You slept for a long time.”

James grunted and shifted his body, stretching out his legs as best he could in the confined space. 

“Want some?” Barty offered the bottle to Regulus.

“Alcohol is toxic,” James said, with a frown.

“We’re on a radioactive planet,” Barty said flatly. “Everything is toxic.”

James frowned as Regulus took the bottle from Barty and took a gulp, immediately choking on the taste.

“Easy tiger!” Barty grinned and whacked Regulus on the back as he spluttered. “Never had a drink before I see?”

“When would I have had a drink?” Regulus asked when he could breathe again. “I spent my life hiding under the floor.”

“I hear the parties under there are crazy,” Barty said.

“You heard wrong,” Regulus responded. 

“You know you can be a right downer sometimes,” Barty plucked the bottle out of Regulus’ hands and took another swig.

“Oh I’m so sorry if my depressing life doesn’t lead to excellent conversation,” Regulus said. “Not all of us had the chance to do an illegal spacewalk.”

Barty grinned. “It was pretty fun.”

“It was pretty stupid,” James said.

“Clearly solitary confinement did nothing for your big head Potter,” said Barty.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asked.

“Just that you’re as righteous as ever.”

James glared at Barty. They had never got along. They were always aware of each other as both of their parents were high-ranking officials on the Elder. When they were young their mums had tried to set up a playdate. It ended with James crying and Barty laughing. They never had another playdate after that, but had always been in each other’s periphery.

James thought that Barty was careless. James didn’t like careless people.

“Let me try again,” Regulus snatched the bottle back out of Barty’s hand and took another swig.

“Hey, maybe slow down a bit?” James suggested, noting the very large gulp that Regulus took. “You’ve never drunk before and that shit must be pretty strong.”

Regulus managed the gulp without the spluttering that had come with the previous one. He turned his intense green eyes to James. “You’re not my brother Potter. Stop trying to protect me. I promise you, I don’t need it.” James narrowed his eyes slightly, unable to tear them away from Regulus. Regulus broke the eye contact first, looking over at Barty.

“I can be fun,” Regulus said.

Barty chuckled, taking the bottle back. “Now that Baby Black, I’d love to see.”

James’ eyes moved to the window above him. The yellow tinge to the world was gone and morning had crept in. It wasn’t completely light, but he could see enough to know that the fog had cleared.

“The fog’s gone,” James scrambled to his feet and shoved the door open. “C’mon, we need to get back to Sirius.”

*

Barty and Regulus spoke back and forth during the journey. James couldn’t find it in himself to bother waiting for them. For a moment he had thought that Regulus cared about Sirius. But he was being reckless, drinking and bantering with Barty when the only thing they should’ve been doing was getting the medicine back to Sirius.

James ignored them for the most part. He ignored everyone who cried out when he stormed back into camp. He went straight to Sirius. He found his path blocked by a closed hatch.

“Open up!” He hammered on the underside of it.

“I told you Goyle, we’re not letting you near him!” Peter’s voice was slightly muffled from the other side of the hatch.

“It’s me, it’s James,” James said. “Let me in, I’ve got what we need to heal him.”

There was the sound of something being moved and the hatch opened to reveal a pale Peter. James ignored him and pulled himself through the hatch. 

His mother had always talked about her ‘work switch’. She said it was where the rest of the world faded away and there was nothing that mattered more than the patient she was bringing back from the dead and occasionally the other people who were assisting with the surgery.

James hadn’t understood fully what she meant until he got to the ground and Sirius had been injured. It was as if the only thing that mattered was getting Sirius better. He ignored everyone else in the room until Sirius was treated. He crushed the seaweed up into a paste which he applied to Sirius’ wound before wrapping it with fresh bandages. He also decided that for good measure he wanted Sirius to ingest some of it too, in case the infection had spread into his bloodstream. 

Someone bought boiled water and James forced the liquid with crushed seaweed down Sirius’ throat, watching him aptly until he swallowed.

Then he finally sat back on his heels and huffed, raising his head to look around the room.

“James?” Marlene asked.

“Yeah?” James said. 

“Are you done?” Marlene sounded tentative. James realised that there were quite a few people in the room. Peter, Mary and Marlene along with Regulus and Barty who must’ve followed him up. He suspected that this wasn’t the first time Marlene had tried to speak to him, but it was the first time he was able to acknowlogege anything more than Sirius’ wounds.

“Yeah I’m done,” said James. “We just need to hope that it works.”

“Mulciber was asking for you,” Marlene said, shooting a furtive look to a corner of the room. James followed her eyes to see that Mulciber and Avery were also in the room, watching James aptly. 

“What’re you doing here?” James asked.

“We lost two people to the fog,” Mulciber said. His voice sounded flat, not the argumentative tone James was used to hearing from the man. “They were dead before we could do anything, but Crabbe got burned pretty bad. He’s downstairs, we could use your… help.”

James frowned. “Marls?”

“I’ll watch Sirius,” Marlene said immediately. 

“Okay then,” James scrambled to his feet. “Yeah, I’ll see if there’s anything I can do.”

He started to make his way over to the ladder, but Regulus caught his arm. 

“Will Sirius be okay?” He asked. His voice sounded small. James wanted to reassure him that Sirius would be absolutely fine. But he wasn’t sure himself. He had done everything he could and just had to hope that it was enough.

“I hope so,” James admitted.

Regulus let his arm go and James continued on his way down the ladder. 

Crabbe was bad. There was no other way of describing it. There were burns over his whole body, his clothes seemed to have melted into his skin. James knew before he examined him that there was nothing he was going to be able to do. Dutifully he started working, with Mulciber breathing over his shoulder.

“I told you yesterday that if I said there was hope then there was hope,” James said.

“And?” Mulciber asked. “Don’t sugar coat it, Potter, is there hope?”

James sighed. “This is beyond me. He’s a dead man walking.”

It hurt to admit. James wanted to help everyone. But this was bad. Actually, it was horrific. Even if his mother was here he wasn’t certain that Crabbe would be able to survive these injuries.

Mulciber sat down heavily on the other side of Crabbe.

“Right then,” he said. His voice was bland, devoid of the fire James had heard in it yesterday.

“I can try,” James offered. “But I think I’ll just be prolonging it.”

“Fine,” Mulciber said. “He asked me to kill him, y’know?”

“What?” James frowned.

“When we found him he hadn’t lost consciousness,” Mulciber said. “He asked me to kill him. I couldn’t do it. I wanted to… well you fought so hard for Black up there. I was hoping you’d do the same for him.”

“If there was anything I could do, I’d do it,” James said. “But even back on the Elder, he’d have died from this.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Mulciber nodded. “But I still can’t do it.” Mulciber had a dagger in his hands which were shaking.

James always wanted to do everything he could to take pain away. It had been his motto. He smiled and laughed or let people cry on his shoulder if they needed to. He looked down at Crabbe. Even though the boy was unconscious, his face looked to be in pain. It hurt James’ heart even though he didn’t like the boy.

Tentatively, James reached across Crabbe’s burned body and took the knife out of Mulciber’s hands. 

James wasn’t a killer. He was a healer. He took pain away. The only thing he could do to take Crabbe’s pain away was slide the dagger into the flesh of his neck, giving him a quick and painless death. He hummed as he did it. He had heard his mother do something similar in the med bay when there were sick or injured kids.

If Crabbe was even close to awake, he hoped that it could comfort him.

It didn’t take long before Crabbe was gone.

Mulciber let out a heavy breath and James grabbed a loose blanket to place over Crabbe.

“Think we’ll have to get used to that huh?” Mulciber said. He was watching James closely.

“To what?” James asked. 

“People dying,” Mulciber offered.

“Yeah,” James admitted.

“We’ve lost six people already,” Mulciber said. “And it’s only been four days since we got here.”

“We can make something of this,” James said. “People listen to you. We can build a wall and protect ourselves.”

“People listen to you too. But you still won’t take off that wristband?” Mulciber asked.

“We need them,” James said. “We won’t survive without them.”

“I’ve done it my whole life,” said Mulciber. “I can do it the rest too.”

“Let’s agree to disagree?” James offered.

“Yeah, fine,” Mulciber sighed. He hesitated for a moment. “I’m keeping Crouch and Baby Black close to me. Avery and Goyle too.”

James frowned. “Why would I care about that?”

“People listen to Crouch,” Mulciber offered. “People hate his dad. But no one hates his dad more than him. He did the biggest fuck you possible to him. People respect that. He’s also batshit crazy, which I respect.”

“Yeah,” James agreed. “But Regulus?”

“He’s a perceptive little shit that one,” Mulciber grunted. 

James wasn’t exactly sure what was happening. It felt like they were picking teams for a kid's game. It confused him. He and Mulciber weren’t friends. They didn’t like each other and never had. Just yesterday Mulciber had wanted Sirius dead. They were not on the same side.

But yet…

But yet they were both here on the ground.

“You should make up with Pettigrew,” Mulciber said.

“What?” James demanded.

“I’m keeping him close too. I reckon I can trust him to save his own skin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James asked, “You can’t trust Pettigrew as far as you can throw him.”

“Have you bothered to ask him why he gave your Old Man Up?” 

James was getting whiplash from this conversation. He had thought he understood Mulciber. He thought he was a power-hungry bastard. He didn’t understand him anymore.

“What does it matter? I trusted him and he got my dad killed.”

“He traded information to save his mother from being floated,” Mulciber said. “I think that makes him loyal.”

“To himself?”

“Exactly.” Mulciber nodded. “He’s one of mine now. Who are yours?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Who are your people?” Mulciber asked, “Who do you trust?”

“Why do you care who I trust?” James narrowed his eyes. 

“Oh c’mon Potter, I thought we were at an understanding,” Mulciber huffed. “We need each other. People listen to both of us. We need to work together if we want to live. Plus you know your way around healing people. We’ll need that if we want to survive. I want to know who you trust.”

“Oh,” James said, his mouth fell open slightly. Mulciber wanted a truce? He wanted to stop the in fighting and come together to try and survive the ground. “Um… Marlene, I guess... McKinnon. Mary too.”

Mulciber nodded once. “And Big Black?”

“With my life,” James replied without thinking. 

“Well then, you should probably get back to saving his,” Mulciber pushed to his feet. “I’m going to bury Crabbe and the others.”

Without another word, Mulciber was on his feet gathering Crabbe’s body up and leaving the Shuttle. James sat there for a moment longer before pushing himself up and heading up the ladder.

“You okay James? You look pale,” Marlene asked when James returned to Sirius’ side. His mind was running at a hundred miles an hour.

“Yeah fine,” James grabbed a cloth and wetted it in the bucket of water nearby before running it over Sirius’ forehead.

“Is Crabbe okay?” Marlene asked, casting a look over towards the ladder.

“He’s dead,” James admitted.

“Shit.”

*

James sat with his back against the wall in the shuttle.

Regulus and Barty had stayed. Regulus floated close to Sirius but never touched him. His eyes kept darting around the room before resting back on Sirius. Barty was clearly trying to keep the mood light as he kept up a steady flow of harmless banter. Regulus responded somewhat halfheartedly.

Mary had gone back to fiddling with a wristband. By her frustrated huffs, James suspected she hadn’t made any progress. Meanwhile, Marlene remained beside Sirius silently.

Peter had quietly sat down near James several minutes earlier.

“You know,” James said quietly. “I didn’t know that your Mum was going to be floated.”

Peter froze, eyeing James tentatively. 

“Mulciber told me,” James admitted. “He said that’s why you gave my dad up. Is that why?”

“Does it matter?” Peter asked.

“I’m struggling here Pete,” James said. “Mulciber thinks you’ve got survival instincts. Thinks that you’re only looking out for yourself. But do you know what doesn’t make sense to me?”

“What?” Peter asked.

“Why are you here?” James continued. “Getting yourself arrested and sent to the ground doesn’t seem like the best strategy for someone with survival instincts.”

Peter didn’t reply for a few moments. “I owe you.”

“What do you mean?” James asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not forgiving you. But I want to understand why. Why all of this?”

“Giving you and your dad up… it saved my Mum’s life,” Peter said. “I saw an opportunity to save her and I did. I traded your dad’s life for hers. I’m not ashamed of it. But I do owe you, James. I’ll do anything, I swear! If you want me to die, I’ll do that. I may have killed your dad, but you saved my mum.”

James shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “I don’t understand you, Peter.”

“What would you have done?” Peter asked. “If it were the other way around. If it was your Mum and you saw a way to save her?”

“I… I don’t know,” James admitted.

“Well then, it’s good that you’ll never be in that position then,” Peter said.

“James!” Marlene called. “He’s waking up.”

James scrambled to his feet and hastened to Sirius’ side.

“Oh hey,” Sirius mumbled. His eyes were heavily lidded. “What are you all doing in my room?”

James choked out a laugh which mingled somewhere in his throat with a sob.

“Hey mate,” James said. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit in the chest with a spear,” Sirius said, his voice sounded raspy and dry.

“Someone get him some water,” James suggested, before looking back down at Sirius.

“Was that a dream or did it actually happen?” Sirius asked.

James laughed again. He suddenly felt much lighter just from the sound of Sirius’ voice and his breathing. Sirius’ face had regained some of the colour it had lost.

“No, you actually got speared,” Barty said. “Looked pretty fucking sick, to be honest. I bet you’ll have a great scar.”

Sirius choked out a laugh.

“Barty don’t make him laugh,” James said, taking the water bottle Peter thrust into his hands and helping Sirius to take a gulp. 

“What? Scars are sexy,” Barty offered.

“If he laughs he might reopen the wound and undo all of my hard work,” James complained.

“My saviour!” Sirius joked weakly. “Thanks, James.”

James sighed. “No, thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Sirius said.

“You didn’t die,” James offered. “Please don’t die? I won’t be able to take it today.”

Sirius grinned. The sight warmed James’ heart. “I’ll try not to die tomorrow too if that works for you?”

“Yeah,” James chuckled. “Yeah, that works for me.”

Regulus was on his knees beside Sirius across from James. Sirius’ eyes seemed to gravitate towards his little brother and his grin widened.

“Hey Reggie,” Sirius said. “Sorry if I scared you.”

Regulus scoffed. “You didn’t scare me.”

“Sure I didn’t,” Sirius was still grinning.

“You’re pathetic, I should punch you again,” Regulus said. Despite his harsh words, James found that there was warmth in his tone.

Sirius laughed again. “Maybe don’t? I don’t think James’ fragile heart can take it.”

James lightly punched Sirius’ upper arm, light enough that it wouldn’t hurt. “Shut up.”

“Oh I so will not,” Sirius said. “I bet you were a wreck without James. McKinnon, was he?”

“Inconsolable,” Marlene said through a smile.

“I think I preferred you when you were unconscious,” Regulus said.

“How about a celebratory swig now then Potter?” Barty asked. James glanced over to see that Barty was clutching the whisky bottle he had found in the car.

James sighed, feeling the tension of the past few days wash off of him. They were still on the ground, they still had no food or any way to contact the Elder. There was still the threat of the Grounders and whatever that acid fog was. But at least Sirius was alive. That was something. No - that was everything.

“Yeah,” James said, holding out his hand for the bottle. “Yeah go on then.”

Chapter Text

S I R I U S

Sirius hated being injured. He always had, even when he was a little kid. It had been four days since he had woken up and he was already going stir crazy being kept in bed. 

James had assumed what Sirius thought was his true form of a mother hen. He fed Sirius food, helped him drink water and argued every time Sirius tried to get up. Taking care of Sirius seemed to make James happy, so Sirius allowed it. 

The slightly hollow and exhausted look in James’ eyes remained, but at least he was smiling.

James couldn’t spend all of his time with Sirius though. He was busy. Sirius wasn’t sure what James meant when he said that. It was all far more complicated than Sirius had considered before he had boarded the shuttle.

He hadn’t remembered that James too would be in the shuttle. His only thought had been to look out for Regulus. He had planned to get to the ground, grab Regulus and run off into the forest never to be seen again. But James being here was a hurdle. Sirius couldn’t ditch his best friend, and he couldn’t work against him to stop the people aboard the Elder from making it down to the ground as well. 

He couldn’t.

Also, it was unlikely that Regulus would agree to run off with Sirius. Apart from when he first woke up, Sirius hadn’t seen his little brother. James had been giving Sirius updates. Apparently, Regulus was working alongside the group to get the wall built and had been almost attached at the hip to Barty Crouch (Sirius wasn’t certain, but he suspected that Barty and Regulus had become friends somewhere along the way). James said that Mulciber had taken Regulus under his wing and Regulus seemed to be thriving working alongside the fairly ruthless man.

The other thing that Sirius worked out from the way James’ tone shifted whenever he mentioned Regulus was that for some reason James didn’t like him. It was strange to see dislike on James’ face, he wasn’t prone to it and it was an unsettling colour on him.

All of it made Sirius’ skin crawl.

He was desperate to see his brother. But James was persuasive when he wanted to be and he wanted Sirius to stay in bed for as long as possible. 

Sirius hated being injured.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that someone had entered the tent until his eyes settled on Regulus.

“You’re here,” Sirius said. Feeling immediately like it was a rather stupid comment.

“Yeah, James is busy, he asked me to bring you some water,” Regulus said, shaking the water bottle in his hand to demonstrate.

“What’s he busy with?” Sirius asked.

Regulus shrugged. “I dunno, him, Mulciber and Avery are locked in their tent having a war council.”

“War council?” Sirius asked, frowning.

“They do that sometimes,” Regulus said.

“James in a war council?” Sirius repeated.

“It’s a turn of phrase,” Regulus said. “Doesn’t mean an actual war council.”

“What are they talking about?”

Regulus shrugged again. “Don’t know.”

“You have an idea though,” Sirius said. He knew his brother well enough to know that Regulus would have picked up on something along the way that would point to what was being discussed. Regulus didn’t like being on the outside of things and Sirius knew that not being in that tent was likely winding him up - especially because of his apparent recent kinship with Mulciber. “Why’s James there?”

Regulus blinked. “He seems to have taken a reluctant leadership role.”

“Ah, yeah that sounds like James.”

“I told him not to trust Mulciber,” Regulus stated. “Mulciber doesn’t want the people from the Elder coming down here. He thinks that they’ll shove us all back into prisons.”

“What do you think?” Sirius asked.

“I think that James will do whatever it takes to get his Mum down here,” Regulus said. “I think that he’s too trusting.”

Sirius nodded. “You’re right.”

“Mulciber still wants James to take his wristband off,” Regulus said blandly.

“Does he now?”

Sirius wasn’t sure what that would achieve. From what he had gathered, there weren’t that many people still wearing the wristbands. One glance at his brother’s wrists told him that Regulus’ was gone. 

“What does Mulciber think that will achieve?” Sirius asked.

“If the Elder thinks James is dead they’ll give up,” Regulus said. “He’s their golden boy down here.”

“Why are you here Regulus?” Sirius asked. “I can tell when you want something.”

Regulus’ eyes narrowed slightly. “I want to know how you managed to get on that shuttle.”

Sirius had never been good at denying his brother anything. When Regulus asked for a bedtime story, he got one. When he asked Sirius to brush his hair, Sirius did it. Regulus was his. Sirius’ little brother. They had no secrets between them.

“I shot the Minister,” Sirius said plainly. “That was the deal. I shoot the Minister, they get me on the shuttle.”

“Barty’s dad?” Regulus asked. “Barty will be delighted.”

“Yeah I shot Crouch,” Sirius said. 

“Why?”

Sirius blinked. “To get on the shuttle.”

“Who for?”

“You of course,” Sirius said.

“Hmm,” Regulus humed. He nodded as if answering a question he had. “Well, that settles it then.”

“Settles what?” Sirius demanded. “Reggie, catch me up, I don’t understand.”

“It settles where I stand,” Regulus said. “The Elder can’t come down here. If they do, they’ll kill you for killing Crouch.”

“Oh,” Sirius said stupidly.

“So I need to get James’ wristband off of him to stop them from coming down,” said Regulus, as if this should have been obvious. As if Sirius was stupid because his brain didn’t work as quickly as Regulus’ did.

“But his Mum-” Sirius started.

“It’s them or you Sirius,” Regulus said. His tone was unsettlingly devoid of emotion. Sirius would never say it aloud, but sometimes Regulus reminded him of their father. Especially when he spoke like this, all stilted and full of purpose. 

“Regulus I -”

“What did you expect me to do, Sirius?” Regulus asked. “This is what we do isn’t it? Burn the world down to save each other.”

“We could run,” Sirius suggested. “Just the two of us?”

Regulus’ lip curled. “We wouldn’t survive ten minutes out there.”

“We could, I know we could,” Sirius said.

“You’re delusional,” Regulus replied curtly. “Besides, what would James think? Could you really leave him here?”

“I didn’t come down here for James, I came here for you!” Sirius argued. “And you’re talking about hurting James worse than me leaving would- he won’t go easily. You’ll have to hold him down and cut his fucking arm off. He won’t give up on his Mum like that. On everyone up there. That’s not who he is.”

“Yes, because the sun shines out of James Potter’s arsehole,” Regulus said. Something in his tone confused Sirius. Sirius wondered if Regulus didn’t like James. James wasn’t good at hiding anything, so his dislike of the younger Black was obvious to Sirius. 

But Regulus was harder to read. He hadn’t always been. Sirius wondered when the switch had flipped which took them from brothers to strangers in their brother’s clothes. Was it when Regulus was sent to lockup or was it before then?

“So what if it does?” Sirius said. “I won’t let you hurt James.”

“Not a lot you can do about it from bed is there?” Regulus cocked an eyebrow.

“So I’ll get up then,” Sirius said, throwing off the blanket and getting to his feet. 

“I didn’t think you were allowed ,” Regulus taunted.

“Clearly you don’t know shit,” Sirius said back.

Regulus laughed. “I’m glad you’re not dead Sirius.”

“Can’t say the same about you right now,” Sirius narrowed his eyes at Regulus.

“C’mon then, let's go cut James’ arm off to get that wristband,” Regulus said. He spoke as if he was suggesting that they go for a picnic. It made Sirius’ skin crawl. 

Regulus left the tent without sparing Sirius a second glance. Sirius was hot on his heels.

“Reggie, leave James alone,” Sirius hissed as the fresh air hit his face. The camp was alive with activity, people chopping wood, hammering metal and tying slats together in an attempt to get the wall finished as quickly as possible. Everyone would feel more secure when they had something to keep the grounders out.

Regulus ignored Sirius, making a beeline for a tent on the other side of the clearing and not stopping before heading inside. Sirius remained hot on his heels.

“Regulus, what's wrong?” James asked the second they entered the tent. James, Mulciber and Avery were there as well as Peter. They were pouring over the map Sirius had seen Peter with on the first day. Someone seemed to have drawn onto the map, marking their position and various other things. “Sirius? What are you doing up?”

“Reggie’s gone crazy,” Sirius offered.

“You shouldn’t be up,” James complained. “Your wounds hardly healed!”

“Baby Black, what is it?” Mulciber asked.

“I want that bracelet off of his arm,” Regulus said, glaring at James as if he’d personally offended him. 

“What?” James flinched back, grabbing his wristband in his other hand and holding it close to his chest. One glance around the room told Sirius that James was the only one wearing a wristband.

Mulciber humed. “You know it has been a while since we’ve had this conversation, Potter. Still stubborn as ever I presume?”

“You know my reasons,” James said. “You promised you’d drop it.”

“Take it off Potter,” Regulus said flatly.

“No,” James glared at Regulus. “They’ll start killing people soon. I’ve been saying from the start, getting in communication with the Elder has to be one of our main priorities.”

“But Macdonald hasn’t made any progress on that front has she?” Avery asked. “She said that she thinks it’s useless.”

“Which is why I won’t take my wristband off,” James snapped back, clearly fighting hard to keep his tone even. “They need to see that we’re alive.”

“Just fucking hold him down and cut it off,” Regulus suggested. “Take his hand with it if you need to.”

“Reggie, that’s enough!” Sirius complained. “Drop it, walk away.”

“No,” Regulus replied. “I want that wristband off your wrist, Potter.”

“Tough luck,” James shot back. “You think you’re tough hey Baby Black? Hiding behind your new mates-”

“James,” Sirius warned.

“No!” James snapped. His eyes were burning with something that Sirius didn’t understand. James took a steadying breath, “I’m not backing down here Sirius.”

“Everyone else had to take them off,” Mulciber said. “We’ve removed - Avery how many bracelets have we removed.”

“79,” Avery supplied. “It’s just Potter’s lot who still have them on.”

Mulciber nodded. “I think it’s time we stop agreeing to disagree, Potter. Take the fucking wristband off.”

James let out a frustrated noise. “Sirius, help me out here?”

“Lads, let’s let it drop maybe?” Sirius suggested, eyeing Regulus pointedly. “Let the man do what he wants. If he wants to keep it on, why shouldn’t he?”

“We should’ve killed you when we had the chance, Big Black,” Mulciber sneered. “You’re not one of us. You’re one of them.”

“I’m here too aren’t I?” Sirius snapped.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Mulciber replied. “All you’ve done is cause us problem after problem.”

“You stay away from him,” James hissed. The tone didn’t suit him. James was much better suited to jovial laughter and teasing than he was to threats.

From what Sirius had gathered over the last week, James and Mulciber had been at a tentative truce. Agreeing to work together rather than against each other. The looks that the two men were giving each other now told Sirius that all of that had just gone out of the window in this conversation.

“Oh? You think you’re tough now Potter?” Mulciber laughed. 

“Shut up,” James gritted his teeth. “C’mon Sirius, we should get you back to bed.”

James made to move towards the tent door, but Avery stepped into his path.

“Sorry mate, I like you. I do. But you’re not leaving here with that wristband on,” Avery said.

“Move before I make you,” James said. His tone was even. It didn’t sound like a threat, it sounded almost conversational, like he was fighting very hard not to snap.

“I’d like to see you try,” Avery grinned.

James tried to step around Avery, but he moved to obstruct James’ path and grabbed James’ wrist by the wristband.

Suddenly James had a gun in his hand. Sirius wasn’t sure where he got it from, but he did know that it was his gun. The one that he had used to shoot the Minister before boarding the shuttle down to earth. How James had it? Sirius didn’t know.

“Get out of my way Avery,” James said. His tone remained conversational, but his eyes flashed something dangerous.

“Oh c’mon Potter, a gun without bullets doesn’t scare me,” Avery grinned.

“Who said there were no bullets?” James asked.

“You did,” Mulciber cut in.

“I lied,” James replied. “There are two bullets left. One for each of you.”

Mulciber sneered. “You don’t have the balls.”

“Get out of my way Avery and we’ll never have to find out,” James said, cool as a cucumber. 

Avery moved, dropping James’ hand and letting him walk out of the tent, shoving the gun back into the waistband of his trousers as he went. Sirius cast one slightly reproachful look at Regulus before hurrying after James.

“You’re brothers a fucking maniac,” James huffed as he beelined back towards the tent Sirius had been staying in whilst he healed. “What was that?”

“He thinks he’s protecting me in his own fucked up way,” Sirius said. “Good call bluffing it with the gun like that.”

James stared at him. “I wasn’t bluffing.”

“Of course you were,” Sirius scoffed. “You’re James, you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“That was before. This is now” James replied. “To save my Mum I’d do anything.”

Sirius looked at his best friend. For the very first time, he wondered what James might be capable of if he was pushed to his breaking point.

E U P H E M I A

She was pacing. Back and forth, and back and forth and again and again.

“Hey, Effie. Maybe I’ll try pacing next time you’re doing a surgery and see how you like it?” Evan Rosier’s head popped up from behind a hatch at the back of the small shuttle. Eight of their ten days had passed. 

Euphemia hadn’t been able to convince anyone in the council to her side, despite the fact that no wristbands had gone offline for several days. The council did think that there was weight behind Evan’s theory that the kids were taking the bands off, but with no hard proof, no one would back her up.

She needed to get down there. She needed to see James, hold him in her arms and know for certain that he was okay. His wristband was among those that was still active. That bought her some comfort, but not enough.

“How much longer?” Euphemia asked. 

“Longer every time you ask,” Evan said with a sigh. “I’ve got most of it working but there are a few parts that are bust. I need to get ahold of a new fuel pump, I’ve scavenged what I can, but I can’t replicate that and it’s kind of important.”

Euphemia sighed. “Where can we get a fuel pump?”

“Got any other unused escape pods?” Evan suggested lightheartedly.

Euphemia groaned. “So you can’t do it?”

“Oh no I can do it,” Evan assured her, “but we won’t be launching today. Let me put out a few feelers, see if anyone on the black market can help me out.”

“Be careful,” Euphemia offered. “Alastor Moody has his eyes on me. He’s been asking questions about why I’m coming down here. I told him there’s been a strep outbreak and I’ve got it quarantined down here, but I don’t know how long he’ll buy it for.”

“Oh Effie, you know me,” Evan winked. “I’m always careful.”

Euphemia had indeed gotten to know Evan Rosier over the last few days. He was cocky, but only because he was so skilled. He really was an excellent mechanic. She wasn’t certain there was anyone else aboard the Elder who could bring this old shuttle back to life as quickly as he had. She supposed she should be thankful that there was only one part that was broken beyond repair.

Evan flashed her a grin.

“I’ll wrap up here and then try my luck,” he said. “You look like you should get some sleep.”

*

“Mundungus won’t help me,” Evan told her the next morning.

“You went to Mundungus?” Euphemia demanded. “He’s a sleaze.”

“He’s the best,” Evan offered. “He’s the only person who can smuggle parts under Mad-Eye’s nose.”

“But he won’t help?” Euphemia asked.

Evan nodded, “he said he’s done helping me. Said I owe him too many favours and I don’t have anything he wants.”

Euphemia gritted her teeth and reminded herself that this was for James. All of it was for James.

“I do,” she said. “Leave it to me. I’ll get your part.”

*

Euphemia didn’t Mundungus Fletcher. He was a disgusting man who made his money swindling desperate people. She had never been desperate enough to need his help before now. 

“Euphemia Potter,” Mundungus regarded her when she approached him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need a part,” Euphemia said, unwilling to beat around the bush.

Mundungus raised an eyebrow. “What kind of part?”

“The kind that pumps fuel,” Euphemia offered.

“Little Rosy’s got powerful friends indeed,” Mundungus grinned. “Like I told him, if you’ve got nothing to trade, then I can’t help you.”

Euphemia placed the phial of morphine she had been able to sneak from Medbay on the table. She didn’t like stealing. She was a firm believer in the rationing laws that made the Elder function. They shared everything, no one got more than their allotted amount. But she was desperate.

“Morphine?” Mundungus regarded the phial. “You must be desperate. What’s the pump for huh?”

“Like I said, it’s for pumping fuel,” Euphemia said blandly. Absolutely refusing to give Mundungus any more information. He could so easily turn her in for this. She wasn’t certain that he wouldn’t. Alastor had been trying to get Mundungus for years, this could easily buy him his freedom.

Mundungus nodded. “Give me a moment, I’ll be back.”

He disappeared off somewhere, coming back less than five minutes later with a fuel pump in hand.

“Not a word Mundungus,” Euphemia said as she took the pump and handed over the morphine. 

“I’m big into client confidentiality,” Mundungus grunted. “You can count on me.”

Euphemia felt like she had just signed her own death warrant. She didn’t believe his words for a second. She ignored the gnawing feeling and headed back off to S deck, trying her very best not to look suspicious. It seemed to work, no one stopped her and she made it back to Evan, handing over the part.

“You got it!” Evan grinned. “Excellent.”

“How long do you need?” Euphemia asked.

“To install it?” Evan blinked. “Maybe ten, fifteen minutes. Then I’ll need to run checks. Maybe 30 minutes total?”

“Good, work quick,” was all Euphemia could bring herself to say. 

Her heart felt like it was threatening to beat out of her chest. She paced for a bit, then stopped when Evan complained that it was distracting.

Euphemia was a woman of action. She was not good at sitting back and putting her life in another’s hands. She would be floated if anyone were to discover what was happening. 

Her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID to see that it was Emmeline calling. That was strange.

Emmeline wouldn’t call her unless something had happened.

“Hello?” Euphemia answered.

“Effie, did you steal morphine from the hospital?” Emmeline demanded.

Euphemia felt her stomach drop. She had thought that they had more time than that. Mundungus had gone straight to the authorities.

“Did they inventory already?” Euphemia said, already knowing the answer. 

“Alastor is here, he asked us if we knew what you were up to,” said Emmeline.

“Thanks for letting me know Emmeline,” Euphemia’s own voice sounded flat. Already resigned to her fate.

Maybe she wouldn’t be able to see the day that humanity returned to the ground. Maybe she wouldn’t see her son again. But the shuttle that Evan was working on and the communication equipment within it would. She could buy enough time for Evan to get out of here.

“How much longer Rosier?” Euphemia barked.

“10 more minutes,” Evan said. “I almost got it!”

“You have less. Work quicker,” Euphemia commanded. “I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”

“What?” Evan demanded, his head jutting up from behind the control panel. He was sweaty and grease-stained. Blonde hair plastered to his forehead.

“No matter what happens Evan, you hear me,” Euphemia said. “You get this working and you get out of here.”

“What about you?” Evan demanded.

Euphemia hesitated, only for a moment. Then she said what she knew she had to, “There’s not enough time for both of us to get out of here.”

“What? No?” Evan scrambled out of the ship. Euphemia was so, so aware that they were wasting precious minutes. 

Evan was only eighteen. She was the adult here, she had to be soft but stern. Convince him to go with strength and determination rather than run away from him like she wanted to.

“Evan, it’s fine,” Euphemia commanded. “You get that communication equipment to earth and we save the lives of 300 people tomorrow.”

“But- They’ll float you, Effie,” Evan said, he sounded so young. He reminded her so much of James.

“So they float me and 300 people live,” Euphemia placed her hands on Evan’s shoulders. “Or they float both of us and 300 people die anyway. Go and find your best friend Evan. Give him a hug for me? And… it’s a bit selfish of me to ask, but if you see my son. My James-? You tell him that I love him and give him a hug from me too yeah?”

“Effie-?”

“There’s not enough time for all the things we could say,” Euphemia gave a small sad smile. “ May we meet again Evan.”

It was an old Elder phrase. Taken from a prayer they said when someone died. Death was a ceremony for the Elder. Even those who died of natural causes were floated through the airlocks due to a rather horrible spot of Elder history which included cannibalism around 80 years earlier. 

When someone died of natural causes, they were placed in the airlock and floated out of it in the same way that criminals were. However, when someone died of natural causes, someone- an official or family member always said a prayer. It was said in private over those executed often, but never officially.

In peace, may you leave this shore. 

In love may you find the next. 

Safe passage on your travels,

until our final journey on the ground.

May we meet again.

“May we meet again,” Evan replied immediately. Just as families or friends at funerals would say at the end of the prayer. It gave Euphemia some comfort, but they were still parting words.

Euphemia patted Evan’s shoulders once and then turned to face her fate.

Chapter Text

R E G U L U S

Regulus wasn’t certain what he was doing. He didn’t know why he was standing above James Potter’s sleeping form with a crowbar in his hand. But there he was.

It was James Potter’s own fault really. Regulus probably would’ve let it go if James hadn’t pulled a gun about it. Now he wanted to get that wristband off just to spite the man. He wanted to see the look on Potter’s face when he realised what happened and who had done it. Just to see how far James could be pushed before he snapped.

To be clear; No one put Regulus up to this. He decided to do it all by himself. He found the crowbar and waited until James Potter was alone and had his defences down. He wanted James’ wristband off. It was the only way to protect Sirius.

James Potter slept alone, in a tent by himself, near the wall far away from others. No one else liked to sleep over there because it was too close to the wall and too far from the safety of the shuttle where most of the rest of the group slept.

Regulus wouldn’t understand this if he and Barty hadn’t been in the car during the acid fog with James when he had cried out and screamed in his sleep for his father. He wondered how James explained his sleeping alone to Sirius. He wondered if Sirius ever would crawl into bed with James the way that Sirius and Regulus used to do. Regulus hoped not. He didn’t want to share that with anyone, least of all James Potter.

Regulus tentatively climbed on top of James Potter, legs straddling him to keep him in place. He was very careful to not wake the older boy so that he could get a good enough grip on the boy before he started struggling.

Regulus was certain that James Potter would be a struggler. He had strong arms and shoulders. Regulus would have to be quick before Potter managed to shove him off. He knew that James was strong.

Very slowly, he waggled the prongs of the crowbar underneath the bracelet, still careful not to wake Potter. He had taken off a few of the bands before, Mulciber had shown him how to do it and he had taken five or six of them off for other people.

Once Regulus was satisfied that he was ready, he reached a hand up and clamped it tightly over James’ mouth before pushing down on the crowbar with the other one. 

James’ eyes flew open. He was sleeping in his glasses. Regulus wondered if he usually slept with them on (which would be strange) or if it was just because he worried about not having time to grab them if he woke up to an attack or another disaster. There always seemed to be something going on in camp that James had to get involved in.

And - ah yes - James Potter was a struggler. He yelled into Regulus’ hands and flailed his arms. James was very strong. Regulus had underestimated James’ strength. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Very quickly, before he could get the bracelet loose, Regulus found himself spilt out on the floor beside the makeshift cot that James had been asleep on. He was on his back and James Potter was hovering over him holding him down.

“What the fuck?” James demanded, his eyes were wide and alert, despite having been asleep just seconds earlier.

“I told you, Potter, I want that wristband off of you,” Regulus snarled.

“Fucking drop it Regulus,” James’ teeth were gritted with effort. James was strong, but Regulus wasn’t weak either and he was squirming trying to get free.

“It’s your mum or my brother,” Regulus said. “You can’t have both. Did he tell you? Did he tell you about what he did to get on the ship?”

“Of course he told me,” James spat. “He’s my best friend.”

Oh and what was that? Was that jealousy in Potter’s tone? For a second Regulus felt like he was looking in a mirror. Seeing the exact same emotions reflected back at him. Sirius belonged to Regulus. He always had, always would. He would never be anyone else’s in the same way.

But Potter thought Sirius was his . Regulus hated that he was kind of right.

“Then you know what they’ll do to him if they come down here,” Regulus said, still squirming. 

“He’ll get a pardon,” James replied. “We have a plan, he’ll make himself useful. Prove that they need him and they’ll pardon his crimes along with the rest of us. He’s not done anything unforgivable.”

“He’s a murderer Potter,” Regulus taunted. “He’s a big bad proper criminal like the rest of us down here- oh, apart from you. Your crime was what? Being too righteous? Being too noble? I’ve killed two people Potter-”

“Oh give me a break, you haven’t killed anyone,” James shot back.

“I killed my parents just by being born,” Regulus said, his gaze not wavering from James’ face. “They’ll kill Sirius too because he tried to save me. Let me save him back.”

That was too much. Regulus had revealed too many of his cards. Potter did not need to know how desperate Regulus was when it came to Sirius. He had done an excellent job of keeping up his act of tasteful indifference so far.

“Your parents death isn’t your fault,” James said. His hold on Regulus didn’t slacken, but his face filled with… was that pity? Regulus hated pity. Oh this was terrible. It wasn’t going at all how he’d planned it. He needed to get the situation back in hand.

“They died because they hid me for fifteen years,” Regulus responded. “Of course it’s my fault. But that doesn’t matter. Just take the fucking wristband off Potter.”

“It’s about more than just Sirius-”

“Nothing is worth more than Sirius,” Regulus cut Potter off before he could start preaching.

“-PEOPLE WILL DIE!” James shouted. “Other people, whole families. They will. Sirius has a chance, they don’t. Their only chance is the ground. They need to know that they can live down here!”

“Where do you get off being such a fucking saviour?” Regulus demanded. James Potter and his perfect morals were driving Regulus insane. It wasn’t possible that someone could be that… well good. Regulus wanted to crack James open and prove to the world that he’s not perfect. Regulus wanted to drag to the surface the boy who ruthlessly shot that dog or who pulled the gun on Avery. He wanted to see the messy horrible bits of Potter.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” James replied. “Stop making it so difficult will you?”

“Let me go,” Regulus demanded.

“Not if you’re going to lunge right for that crowbar,” James said. His eyes were big and had heavy eyelashes. In the dim light, Regulus couldn’t make out the exact shade of those eyes, but he knew they were brown and large and lovely. 

Of course perfect James Potter had perfect fucking eyes.

“Let me go!” Regulus demanded again.

“I’ll put you right back on your back if you go for the crowbar,” James warned.

“Get off me!” Regulus said.

James let Regulus go, backing off and glaring at him. Regulus didn’t move for the crowbar, he just glared at James.

“You’ll have to cut my hand off to get this wristband off me,” James said, his voice was certain and he glared right back at Regulus with a blazing intensity.

“What you gonna do, pull the fucking gun on me?” Regulus taunted.

“If I have to shoot you that’s what I’ll do,” James replied, as if it took no thought.

“You wouldn’t be able to kill me. Mulciber is right, you don’t have the stomach for it.” Regulus said. He wasn’t sure of this, but he had seen that slightly sick look James had on his face at the prospect of shooting people. He hoped Mulciber wasn’t right, he wanted to see if James was capable of it, if there was a button that could be pushed to teeter James Potter over into darkness.

“I wouldn’t have to kill you,” James assured Regulus. “I’d aim for the fucking balls. A man doesn’t need them to live. Clearly.”

Regulus laughed. It bubbled up in his chest and forced its way out of his throat before he could stop it. Did James Potter just throw out that pathetic of an insult? That was terrible, even by Regulus’ fairly limited exposure to being insulted (culprits only included his parents and Sirius).

“Why are you laughing?” James demanded. “Stop that! It wasn’t funny, it was threatening!”

Regulus found that this only redoubled the laughter. James sounded… well slightly pathetic. Suddenly Regulus understood that Mulciber was right. It was all bravado and no substance with Potter. He was putting on an act - a tough guy act. Trying to cover up the fact that he was just as scared as the rest of them. 

Honestly? Regulus found that he respected the hell out of it. It was just… so… well it was just so James.

Perhaps violence wasn’t the answer. James was too strong for Regulus to take down by himself. He had tried a group setting earlier that day and James had pulled a gun. He was certainly excellent at getting out of things, all of it was bravado, but no one was certain enough of that to challenge him.

“You’re a fucking maniac, you know that?” James demanded.

Regulus realised he was still laughing, chuckling under his breath as he watched James squirm.

“Stop looking at me like that!” James complained.

“Like what?” Regulus asked, his laughter slowly dying out, but leaving a grin on his face. 

“Like THAT!” James said.

“You’re very easy to mess with,” Regulus noted.

“And you’re a little shit,” James snapped back.

“Oo, I’m so scared,” Regulus chuckled lightly again. “Okay, I’m done. You win this round Potter. I’ll win the war.” James’ hands slackened on Regulus’ arms, letting him up. Not allowing himself to hesitate for a moment, Regulus snatched up his crowbar and left the tent.

He shook his head as he walked away, adding another item to the list of things he knew about James Potter; the boy was remarkably distracting when he was flustered. 

J A M E S

James had decided that if there was one hill he was going to die on, it would be this one. He absolutley was not removing his wristband. No matter how many times Mulciber bought it up, no matter who tried to intimidate him, it would remain on his wrist.

He still had the gun didn’t he? And he knew where to aim so that he could stop someone without killing them (The legs were the best bet). He could even patch them up afterwards. Maybe that would mean that they would be so thankful to him that they would leave him the fuck alone. 

Despite what he had told Sirius, he did have reservations about killing a person. 

He had decided not to count the mercy killing of Crabbe in his death toll. It wasn’t really his fault, it had been, afterall, a mercy killing. He had no choice. 

He told himself this over and over, but it didn’t make it any easier to come to terms with. Over the past week he kept feeling the urge to wash his hands, as if they had blood on them still. They didn’t, they were clean. He perhaps had the cleanest hands in the whole camp based on how often he had been washing them.

He wondered if everyone could see what a fraud he was. Here he was, preaching fairness and cooperation to the group. Trying to keep fights from happening and keep the peace when he himself killed a man and pulled a gun on another. His nerves were frayed and he felt like he was slipping away from himself.

But he had to remain strong. Like his mother.

Somehow he had managed to come to a peaceful cooperation with Mulciber.

Then Regulus Black had burst into that tent and ruined all of it. 

James was doing so well, then suddenly he had that gun in his hand and he wasn’t certain that he wouldn’t shoot Avery if he had to. 

Then he had Regulus Black pinned down under him and wanted to punch him in the stupid smug face. Regulus had laughed at him and it had done something funny to James’ head - made him see red.

James felt like he was a hundred different people all at once. He was the boy who patched up kids, who picked up litter. He was the boy who laughed and pulled pranks with Sirius and Peter. He was a shoulder for Marlene to cry on after her father died. He was the person who spat venom at Peter. He was the man who had slid a knife into Crabbe’s throat without a blink.

If James would do one thing in this life, it was save those aboard the Elder. That way maybe when he did finally die and he stood across from whatever entity judged a person’s soul, James’ would have some chance at redemption.

“Any hope Mary?” James headed straight to Mary the next morning, determined to cast thoughts of whatever it was that had happened last night with Regulus Black far from his mind.

He hated the boy. Regulus was mean and he made James feel exposed, which James didn’t like. He hated his stupid eyes that seemed to see right through him and his stupid words which could cut like a sword.

“Yes actually,” Mary grinned. “We’ll be speaking to the Elder in a few hours I’d reckon. Pandora let me take off her band and I finally managed to do it without frying the circuits. I’m working on wiring it through the shuttle’s anteni at the moment. With any luck we’ll be able to at least send some morse code messages.”

James grinned. “That sounds amazing Mary. Is there anything you need? I can do whatever.”

“No, it’s fiddly,” Mary caught her upper lip between her teeth as she pulled tentatively at some wires which were running out of an open panel in the shuttle’s wall. “I want to get it right.”

James nodded. “Just shout if there’s anything you need.”

“I will, thanks James.”

James backed away, leaving Mary to work.

Where could he go now? Where else could he hide? He probably should check over Sirius’ wound. It had only been a week since his best friend had almost been run through with a spear.

“Morning James,” Sirius grinned up at him from the cot that he was spread out on. His long hair was splayed over the makeshift pillow and he lounged back as if he were a king, limbs spilled all over the place. “Come to give me a clean bill of health so that I can get out of this bed?”

After Sirius’ brief excursion the previous day, James had practically manhandled Sirius back into bed and threatened him to stay in it. Sirius hadn’t put up as much of a fight as James had expected, which was suspicious and meant one of two things; Sirius’ wound was hurting and he was refusing to admit it or Sirius was mad.

James didn’t really care which. At least Sirius was alive, he could be mad all he wanted.

“Let me look at it you bastard,” James said, dropping to his knees beside Sirius’ cot and pulling his shirt up.

Sirius didn’t stop James from unwrapping the bandages. He did complain about having to sit up in the process, but instantly shut up when James started probing his wound. Sirius’ complaints died with a hiss of pain.

“Fuck James, that hurts.”

“Yeah, it would. You got stabbed less than a week ago.”

“I’m fine!”

“Sure you are,” James sighed. “I mean, it’s healing. You can get up if you're desperate to. But I don’t want to see you chopping wood or anything. Give it another few days to heal mate.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll go easy,” Sirius replied. James started wrapping the wound up again, but he could feel Sirius’ eyes on him.

“What is it Sirius?” James asked, keeping his eyes on the bandage.

Sirius didn’t say anything for a few moments. “Are you okay James?”

James snorted. “Is any of us okay?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Oh I’m fine,” James gritted his teeth. “Just fucking excellent actually.”

“That’s what I'm talking about,” Sirius insisted. James finished wrapping the wound and Sirius pulled his shirt back down. James still didn’t look at Sirius. “You’re deflecting James. Something’s up, you’re not yourself.”

“You don’t know me Sirius,” James replied quietly.

“What? Of course I know you, you’re my best friend-”

“I don’t think I’m the same person I was six months ago mate,” James huffed a heavy breath. “My dad dying? It’s done something to me, I’m all twisted now. I’m not actually sure what I’m capable of.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I killed Crabbe,” James admitted. “Stabbed him in the neck. And I shot that dog without even thinking about it. And yesterday, in the moment I wasn’t certain that I wouldn’t actually shoot Avery. I don’t know what’s happening Sirius, I feel like I’m losing it.”

“You’re not a murderer mate,” Sirius took James’ face into his hands and all but forced him to look at Sirius. “Crabbe was all but dead right? What you did was a good thing. You put him out of his misery.”

“They all wanted to kill you and I didn’t let them,” James said. This was a gnawing horrible thing that had been in the back of his head ever since he slid that dagger into Crabbe’s throat. If it had been Sirius there, could he have done it? Would he have fought harder to keep Crabbe alive if he was Sirius? James didn’t know. 

“You’re not a monster because you wanted to save your best friend,” Sirius said.

“But I should’ve saved Crabbe as well,” James said plainly.

“You can’t save everyone,” Sirius patted James’ shoulder and looked at him intently. “You know that right? You won’t ever be able to stop everyone in the whole world from dying.”

“I can try,” James offered. “I feel like a fraud.”

“You’re not mate.”

“Everyone’s looking at me to tell them what to do and I don’t know what to tell them.”

“No one has all the answers.”

“I don’t think I’m a good person anymore,” James said, he gazed intently at his best friend, looking for any reaction that could indicate… well indicate anything.

There was a long pause before Sirius spoke.

“Me either mate,” Sirius replied, giving James a small sad smile. 

“I’m not sure I know what good is anymore,” James admitted.

“Maybe there are no good people?” 

“My dad was good,” said James.

Sirius let out a heavy breath. “Yeah, he was.”

“So what does that make me then?” James asked. “I just wanted to save people, Sirius. I just wanted… I don’t know. But if everyone on the Elder dies it’ll be my fault.”

“You need to get that out of your head James,” Sirius said. “It’s too much for one person. Effie’ll be doing everything she can to get them down here. You know she will.”

“I wish my dad were here,” James sighed. “He’d know what the right thing to do was.”

“Yeah he probably would,” Sirius agreed.

“And he’s not because of Peter,” James said. “And I spoke to him, I understand why he did what he did. He wanted to save his Mum, I get it. But I can’t forgive him and that makes me feel like a bad person.”

“Come here James,” Sirius pulled James into his arms and they stayed there for a while, Sirius just silently holding James as they breathed together.

Somehow, James felt slightly lighter. Like the rocks that had settled in his stomach had been crushed into a fine powder. Sirius had that effect. He was steady, ever present. James was so unimaginably thankful that his best friend was there, that he hadn’t died.

“Are you okay?” James asked eventually. “I mean with all of this? You shot the Minister, Sirius and your brothers a fucking maniac.” James pulled himself out of Sirius’ arms so that they could look at eachother.

“Honestly? I don’t even feel guilty about it,” Sirius admitted. “I’d do it again. For Reggie, who by the way, isn’t a maniac. I don’t get why you think he is.”

“Sirius, he crawled into my bed last night and tried to cut my wristband off,” James said flatly. “He’s fucking unhinged.”

“He did WHAT?” Sirius demanded. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

James shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, I stopped him. You’re right, he thinks he’s saving you. The pair of you are both fucking insane about each other.”

“I’ll try and get him to back off,” Sirius said.

James grunted, “I doubt you’ll have much luck.”

*

“Okay, I think it’s ready,” Mary declared. It was the evening, James had spent most of the day chopping wood and pointedly avoiding Mulciber. He had caught Regulus looking at him several times, but he ignored him as well.

“So morse code?” James asked. “Do you know morse code?”

“ Do I know morse code ?” Mary mocked. “Did I grow up in a vent?

James laughed and held his hands up.

“So what are we waiting for then?” Marlene prompted. “Fucking plug it in.”

Mary laughed too. James thought that it was nice. All of his friends had been stressed all week. Tired eyes and mouths turned down in frowns. They deserved a bit of hope and being able to contact the Elder would give them that. The group were gathered around Mary’s contraption; James, Mary, Marlene, Sirius and Pandora.

Mary reached over the wristband which had wires running into it from all over the place. She grabbed a loose wire which had the copper ends exposed and reached to tap it on an exposed pin and -

“Ah shit!” James cursed as his own wristband gave him a sharp electric shock and suddenly released itself, clattering to the ground. Marlene’s band did the same thing and some confused shouts from outside told James that other people’s outside had done the same thing.

James’ stomach plummeted.

“What happened?” Sirius demanded.

“Fuck,” Mary complained, throwing down the wire and sitting back. “I think I fried all of the wristbands.”

James could feel himself splintering. This was what he had been worried about. He was losing it.

He punched the wall of the shuttle to stop himself from throttling Mary where she sat, letting out a frustrated yell as he did it. 

“James I’m sorry!” Mary said as James set about pacing the length of the room, running his uninjured hand through his hair and ignoring the pain in his knuckles. James screwed his eyes shut and tried to calm himself down. He wanted to be a good person, he was desperate to be one actually. A good person would say something good here.

“It’s fine Mary,” was all James could manage. He let out a long breath to calm himself- or at least project an air of calm. “Really, it is what it is.” 

It was over. James had fought for nothing, everyone on the Elder would die and he would never see his mother again. He was just going to have to learn to live with that. He needed some air. Needed to walk away and clear his thoughts for a few moments. To collect himself enough that he could face everyone.

He was tired. So tired. Tired of keeping up his anger. He wasn’t used to it and it didn’t sit right in his bones. He wanted not to be angry anymore. He wanted to be able to take a few steadying breaths and feel like himself for just five minutes.

James headed out into the night just in time to see the streak of fire light up the sky as a shuttle shot towards Earth.

Chapter Text

E U P H E M I A

“Have we heard from Evan?” Euphemia was on her feet the moment the door opened. She had expected to be marched straight to the airlock and floated immedatley, but the guards had brought her back to her quarters and thrown her inside, locking the door and staying stationed outside it.

She hadn’t expected the Minister to visit her. But here he was, clutching a tablet and looking at her with narrowed eyes.

“Barty please?” Euphemia prompted. 

“No word from Rosier.” Bartemius said stiffly. “But there are some things you should know.”

Euphemia huffed and threw herself back into her seat. “What’s the use? You’re going to float me? Just get it over with so I can be with my husband.”

“Effie, you’re not going to be floated,” Bartemius said.

“What?” Euphemia’s head snapped up and she stared at the man in confusion. She hadn’t thought that mercy was in his vocabulary. He hadn’t shown it when he had given the order to float Fleamont and imprison James. He certainly hadn’t even shown it when his own son was arrested and subsequently sent to the ground.

“Oxygen supplies have decreased dramatically,” Bartemius said. “Your husband’s predictions were wrong. We’re already seeing signs of oxygen deprivation. Medbay is overwhelmed, we need you.”

“But we have three more months,” Euphemia’s voice sounded small to her own ears.

“Not anymore,” Bartemius said, his voice still held that firm lifeless quality to it that Euphemia hated. “The council has voted to approve the culling. We need to take swift action if any of us hope to survive.”

“What?” Euphemia found herself on her feet again. “No, Barty- you voted without me? We need to wait to hear from Evan-”

“You’ve led that boy to his death Effie,” Bartemius said sternly. “The ground isn’t survivable-”

“We don’t know that!” Euphemia replied sharply. “The wristbands-”

“The wristbands all went offline an hour ago,” Bartemius said. He held out the tablet in his hand which showed James’ picture. His vitals should have been displayed next to the picture, but there was nothing but the words ‘transmission terminated’ in bold red letters.

Euphemia sucked in a sharp breath as she looked at it. 

This was nothing. James had taken the wristband off like everyone else. He couldn’t be dead. She wouldn’t allow herself to consider the possibility. No, her son was down there, alive and well, waiting for her. Evan would land safely and find him and then get in contact with the Elder.

Everyone would live. They had to.

“That doesn’t mean he’s dead-” Euphemia started.

“Enough!” Bartemius snapped. “Our children are dead Effie. Both of them. Indulging in your delusion is only getting more people killed. You led my son’s best friend to his dead because of a pipe dream that Earth was surviable a hundred years earlier than we expect it to be. I will not let you take the rest of this ship down with you. Now, you have two choices Effie; I advise you to choose wiseley. You can come with me to medbay and help the sick, or you can be floated. We need Dr Euphemia Potter back, not whatever this is that you’ve become.”

“I’ve not changed Baty,” Euphemia said. “I can’t just standby whilst 300 people are killed.”

“We’re not asking you to,” Bartemius replied. “You’ve been stripped of your position on the council for your insolence. We just need your healing talents.”

“You sound an awful lot like a man who’s picking and choosing who lives and dies,” said Euphemia with narrowed eyes.

“To ensure the survival of the human race I’ll do what I have to do,” Bartemius said. “Now, will you come with me to medbay?”

R E G U L U S

Everyone else in camp was wasting time bickering over if they should wait until morning to go and get whatever was in the shuttle.

There was no question that it had been sent down by the Elder. James Potter suggested loudly that there would be medical supplies and food in it and that they should go after it right away. Many others disagreed - it was too dark, the Grounders were out there.

Regulus knew only one thing. That the shuttle probably had a radio in it. Regulus had to get to the radio before James Potter could use it to tell everyone on the Elder that they were alive. Because if the Elder came down here, then Sirius would be killed for killing the Minister.

So Regulus grabbed a knife and slipped away.

It was for Sirius. Always for Sirius. 

The ship hadn’t landed that far from camp in the end. It only took Regulus around an hour of scrambling through trees to find it. He hesitated at the door to the shuttle when he saw a person inside it.

“Shuttle 2, this is the Elder, transmitting an automatic hail, do you read?” A woman’s voice came from the radio in the console.

The person was passed out in their spacesuit. It was a boy who couldn’t be much older than Regulus himself- maybe eighteen or nineteen. He was blonde and had a pretty face.

“Shuttle 2, this is Elder, transmitting an automatic hail, do you read?” 

Regulus pulled the door to the shuttle open. He didn’t allow himself to be distracted by the unconscious boy, he lurched forwards with his dagger and popped the radio out of the console, cutting the wires to free it so that the message stopped playing and the radio went flat. 

Regulus heard shouts in the distance. Apparently James Potter had won the argument and managed to convince the group to leave camp.

For Sirius .

Regulus hurried away from the shuttle, slamming the door shut behind him. There was a lake nearby, he could hear the water. He stumbled to a halt beside the lake and threw the radio into it.

There. 

Now Sirius would be safe.

Quietly, Regulus slipped back through the trees. His plan was to join the back of the search party and slip in unnoticed. No one ever had to know what he had done, they could all believe that the radio fell out during the shuttle’s landing, or that there had never been one to start with. 

What Regulus hadn’t banked on, was the search party having split into smaller groups. He found himself sneaking up behind one that comprised of James Potter himself, Sirius and Barty. Barty was holding a fiery torch as they searched the woods for signs of the shuttle. 

Regulus steeled himself and prepared to put on the performance of his life. James Potter could not find out what he had done.

“Wait up!” Regulus jogged to catch up.

“Reg?” Barty grinned when he saw him.

“You lot walk fast,” Regulus huffed. “Been trying to catch up since we left camp.”

Barty laughed and slung the arm that wasn’t holding the burning torch around Regulus’ shoulder.

“Mulciber was looking for you when we left,” said Sirius. 

“Was he?” Regulus asked. “Didn’t hear him, was at the back of the group.”

“Hm,” Sirius hummed. 

James Potter narrowed his eyes at Regulus suspiciously, but kept his mouth shut for once. It was a nice change of pace, Regulus thought, for the boy not to be shoving his own opinion onto everyone else.

“Over there!” Barty said suddenly. “I think that’s it!” Barty had spotted the shuttle up ahead through the trees. He released Regulus’ shoulders and the four of them hurried off towards it.

“Oh,” James Potter exclaimed when he opened the door to reveal the boy inside. He was waking up now, groaning as he fumbled to remove his helmet.

“Oh,” The boy replied, blinking.

“Evan?” Barty demanded.

The boy’s face broke out into a wide grin, “hey Bee.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Barty demanded with a choked laugh. He shoved the flaming torch he was holding into Regulus’ hands and moved forwards, pushing James aside so that he could get a better look at the boy.

“Couldn’t leave you alone down here could I?” Evan grinned, his helmet was off now. Regulus could see that he was bleeding from a gash in his head, but he didn’t look like he was in any pain.

“You’re crazy!” Barty laughed.

“Says you,” Evan replied.

“We should get him out of there,” James said. “I should take a look at that gash, it doesn’t look good.”

“Yeah, c’mon Ev,” Barty clambered into the shuttle. “Jesus did you build this thing out of scrap metal?”

“Yeah pretty much,” Evan laughed as Barty helped him undo the buckles that held him into his seat, once he was free they started scrambling out of the shuttle. “You know that storage area on S deck? This piece of junk was down there. Just needed a few extra parts and some TLC to get her going.”

“Insane!” Barty muttered, helping Evan to sit down on a log not far from where the shuttle had landed. “Ev, let Potter take a look at you. He’s got healing hands.”

“Wait Potter?” Evan asked, glancing towards James. “Like Effie? You’re James?”

“Yeah that’s me,” James nodded, crouching infront of Evan. “You know my Mum?”

“This is all because of her,” Evan explained as James started to take care of the wound on his head. “She found the pod and helped me get the parts. We were supposed to come down here together, but we were in a rush and - oh shit, we need to tell them you’re alive.”

Evan pushed James away and stumbled back towards the shuttle.

“Woa, slow down there mate,” Sirius said as Evan stumbled into him. Sirius helped Evan regain his footing.

“No you don’t understand. We ran out of time because the council were voting to cull 300 people,” Evan said. “They need to know that you’re alive!”

Regulus watched as James Potter’s face paled. “When?”

“Today? Now?” Evan said. “There’s no more time.” Evan pushed Sirius off of him and headed towards the shuttle. “Shit!” He cried out when he saw the slot where the radio should’ve been. “It must’ve come loose during re-entry- I should have strapped it down! Fucking idiot!”

“No,” Barty was at Evan’s side. “No, Ev, look. That’s a clean cut. Someone cut it out.”

Shit.

Barty Crouch was smarter than he gave himself credit for.

“Why would someone do that?” Evan demanded.

James Potter very slowly turned around to glare at Regulus. 

“You didn’t?” James asked, his voice was calm, but his eyes held utter and complete anger. 

“What?” Sirius asked, glancing from James to Regulus and then back to Evan and Barty.

“Tell me you didn’t do it, Regulus,” James said.

Regulus met James’ eyes and jutted out his chin. He had been caught. Potter knew. Regulus knew that there was very little he could say that would change the older boy’s mind now.

“So what if I did?” Was all Regulus was able to muster.

“You’ve fucking killed three hundred people,” James snarled.

“And Sirius will live,” Regulus responded, careful to keep his tone even. “If those people dying is what it takes then-”

Before Regulus could say anything else James Potter was on him. Strong fingers gripping his shoulders, bruised knuckles connecting with Regulus’ jaw. He punched so hard that Regulus saw stars.

And there it was. There was the switch that Regulus knew existed that would push James Potter over the edge. If he hadn’t been so dazed by the punch he might’ve felt victorious. He may have even laughed about it. He felt slightly smug about it even though he was dizzy from the hit. 

Regulus would wear the bruise James had certainly left with pride. He had been the one to push James Potter to violence.

Before James could land another hit, he was shoved back and Sirius put himself between James and Regulus.

“Sirius-” James growled.

“Sirius Black?” Evan asked. “They’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“What?” Barty asked, he had risen to his feet and was lingering nearby. Regulus wasn’t sure who’s side Barty would take if this turned out to be an all out fight. Regulus thought that Barty was probably the person he could depend on most to take his side here. But Evan may be a spanner in the works for that.

“Yeah, he shot the Minister,” Evan said.

“Oh shit,” Barty’s eyes widened, but he seemed unsurprisingly unbothered at the discovery that his father was dead. “They’ll kill you for that.” 

“Which is why no one can know that we’re alive!” Regulus spat blood out at the ground, glaring at James. “I told you Potter, it’s them or my brother.”

“You can stop this bullshit tirade to protect me or whatever,” Sirius stated, glaring at Regulus. “300 people will die, Regulus!”

“Better them than you!” Regulus insisted.

“Where’s the radio,” James demanded. “Where did you hide it, you bastard?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Regulus hissed.

“Crouch isn’t dead,” Evan said quickly.

“What?” Barty asked, the he frowned, registering Evan’s words. “Shame.”

Sirius blinked. “Well fuck.”

“Yeah, you’re a lousy shot mate. They stitched him back together in no time,” Evan said.

“See Reggie,” Sirius whirrled on his brother. “There’s no need for this bullshit. He’s not dead. I’ll do what James said, I’ll fucking prove myself useful or whatever. Anything. It’ll be fine. Just tell us where the radio is. C’mon Reg, you’re not a killer. I know you’re not, help us help them!”

And…

Well… Regulus had never been good at saying no to Sirius. 

Sirius’ grey eyes were wide and imploring as he gazed at Regulus. Over Sirius’ shoulder, Regulus could see James Potter still breathing heavily and glaring at him, but he hardly acknowledged it at all. Sirius was all that mattered. Sirius wanted him to give up. To help save all of those people on the Elder.

And apparently doing that wouldn’t lead to Sirius’ death.

With that fact in mind, Regulus found that he was far less averse to the possibility of helping.

“I threw it in the lake,” Regulus muttered.

“You what?” James demanded.

“You heard me Potter. I threw it in the fucking lake.”

*

The lake was shallower than Regulus had imagined it to be. 

The sun was well and truly up now, beating down on them as they searched the lake for the radio. Regulus wasn’t helping. He was sitting on the shore glaring daggers at James Potter as he splashed around in the water.

Regulus didn’t feel guilty. Absolutely not. He thought he was saving Sirius. He’d do anything for his brother. The brother who was currently sitting beside him pointedly not saying anything. 

“Say whatever it is that you want to say, Sirius,” Regulus spat when he couldn’t take the constant furtive looks from Sirius anymore.

Sirius sucked in a breath. 

“Oh c’mon, just spit it out,” Regulus groaned.

“You were going to let three hundred people - heck, everyone on the Elder die, for me,” Sirius said.

“So?” Regulus asked.

“So?” Sirius demanded. “That’s fucked up Reggie, I’m one person, I’m not worth that-”

“Oh, so you’re a fucking hypocrite now as well?” Regulus asked. “Jump off of your high horse Sirius. You got our parents floated and shot the Minister because you thought I was in danger.”

That shut Sirius up. Regulus struggled to hold back a grin.

“You know, we never got a chance to talk about it,” Sirius said, his voice was quiet and he looked down at his hands, picking at his nails.

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “About what?”

“Them,” Sirius said. Regulus didn’t need him to elaborate. He knew exactly who they were. The same people who they had always been. “Are you mad about it? Because I never thought they’d lock you up too-”

“But you did know that Mother and Father would die,” Regulus stated. 

“Yes I did,” Sirius admitted.

Regulus didn’t know how he felt about his parents’ deaths. He had never quite been able to wrap his head around it. He’d been unconscious when the guards came to drag them away, beaten into a bloody pulp on the floor as Sirius screamed at their parents to stop- to hit him instead of Regulus.

It hadn’t been anything specific that had set them off. More of a slow build over several months. A broken mug here, a screaming match with Sirius there. Then one day, their mother snapped and started hitting harder than she had before.

Regulus didn’t like his parents. But he had loved them in whatever sick twisted way he was capable of loving.

“I just…” Sirius trailed off and seemed to steel himself for a moment. “Reggie, sometimes I feel like I don’t know how to love people properly because of them. It’s all blood and screaming. I don’t want that for you.”

“It’s too late for that,” Regulus admitted. “That's all I’ve ever known.”

“I found it!” Marlene McKinnon yelled from nearby. She was holding aloft the radio that Regulus had tossed in earlier. 

“Thank fuck!” James said, splashing over to where McKinnon had stopped beside Evan. “Can you fix it?”

Evan took the radio into his hands and started examining it thoroughly. “I hope so. But it’ll take a while. Half a day at least to get it all apart and dry out the components. I won’t know until then what’s ruined.”

“What if those people don’t have half a day?” James demanded.

“I’ll work as quick as I can, but I’m not a fucking miracle worker,” Evan said.

Regulus snorted. Evan was quite funny. Regulus suspected that was why Barty kept him around. Evan glared at Regulus.

“Shut the fuck up Black,” Marlene said.

“Marls lay off,” Sirius muttered.

“No I will not,” Marlene snapped. “If those people die, their blood is on your hands, Regulus. And you’re not even helping!”

“I helped!” Regulus replied. “I told you where it was, I’m not a mechanic, I can't fix it.”

“Well -”

“Marls stop,” Sirius said. That was his big brother voice. Regulus knew it well. Stern and sharp. He sounded like their mother when he spoke like that. “We don’t need to speak to them right? They just need to know that we’re alive.”

“Yeah, but how do you plan on letting them know that without speaking to them?” Evan asked with a frown.

“Is there any extra fuel in that shuttle of yours?” Sirius asked, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah probably,” Evan nodded.

“Enough to make a firework display?” Sirius asked. 

Evan’s face spread into a similar grin as Sirius’.

*

Regulus decided to help. He threw himself into it actually, if only to avoid the accusing stares thrown his way from every direction.

He peeled away from Sirius and resigned to stay as far away from him as possible so that he could also avoid the conversation they had started beside the lake. Regulus had no intention of discussing his inability to love correctly with anyone.

Unluckily, Regulus found himself tromping through the forest, lugging the control panel from Evan’s ship back to camp with none other than James Potter, who seemed just as put out by the arrangement as Regulus was.

They bumbled along in silence for a while, not looking at eachother and not talking as they struggled to carry the heavy metal panel together.

Evan had taken charge and had barked orders so quickly that no one could protest. Evan, Barty and Marlene along with a few others had stayed back at the shuttle to continue siphoning the parts, whilst Mulciber and a few of his guys went off to set up the flares.

James and Regulus were to take the panel back to camp, extract the battery from the drop ship and mobalise the group in getting ready to fire off flares that would be able to be seen from the Elder.

And Regulus was furious about it. Furious that he had to spend any time at all with James Potter.

“Fucking put it down will you?” James snapped. “I need a break.”

“Too heavy for you Potter?” Regulus asked. “I thought that we were on a time crunch.”

“I just need a second.” James glared right back at Regulus. His eyes looked so pretty when he glared. It was distracting and Regulus hated it.

“Stop fucking looking at me,” Regulus said.

“I can look wherever I want to look,” James replied.

“Pick up the panel, Potter.”

James glowered, but did pick up the panel, together they continued through the trees in blissful silence until-

“I won’t apologise for punching you,” James said, setting the panel down again with little to no warning, making Regulus stumble over himself to set it down too.

“I wasn’t asking you to,” Regulus replied.

“Because you deserved it,” James continued, ignoring Regulus’ words. “You’re fucking feral. What was that the other night, huh? Crawling into my bed to get me in my sleep?”

“It doesn’t matter now does it?” Regulus pointedly ignored James’ searching eyes. “Your wristband is off anyway. I got what I wanted.”

“Hmm.”

“Pick up the fucking control panel Potter. You’re the one who wants to save everyone,” Regulus said.

“Fine.”

They walked in silence. Blissful silence that Regulus could have settled into forever. And then James just had to open his mouth again.

“You’re just as fucking crazy as Sirius is,” James said. “He’d have done the same thing for you and I know it.”

“Does it matter?” Regulus kept his eyes distinctly ahead.

“Yes,” James admitted. “It matters because you did it for love. Don’t get me wrong, it was still fucking stupid and if those people all die I might still hate you forever. But you’re helping, aren’t you? You don’t want them to die any more than I do.”

Regulus was furious. He had succeeded in pushing James over the edge. James had been seething at him, Regulus had half expected James to pull the gun out and shoot because of the wild look in the older boy’s eyes. The perfect fucking prick was ruining it with his kind words. 

Regulus hated it.

“Reluctantly,” Regulus said.

“I’m just trying to say…” James said. “I mean, what I like about Sirius is how fiercely he loves. You love the same way. It’s nice.”

“Right, no. Stop that,” Regulus suddenly dropped the control panel and turned to face James, feeling slightly vindicated when James tripped over himself to set it down too. “Absolutely not. You hate me.”

“Maybe?” James said. “I don’t know. I’m very confused at the moment.”

“Well stop it,” Regulus commanded.

“Stop what?”

“Being confused at me. Just fucking hate me, I’m the bad guy. I’m the one who’s willing to kill people to save my brother. I’ll do it again if I have to and I’m not ashamed of it.”

“I’m trying to be less of a dick to you over here,” James complained. “I’m tired of it. We’re all on the same side. My fucking wristband came off just like you wanted. Sirius didn’t kill the Minister. The Elder coming down here doesn’t hurt you. Just work with me?”

Okay, there was probably some truth in that. Regulus had thought that James did look tired. And he had been fighting more than anyone else had since they got down there. First to get to the mountain, then to get Sirius back, then to save Sirius’ life, then to keep the camp together and then in the last 24 hours against Regulus and Mulciber to keep his wristband on. When it was all laid out in a row, Regulus thought it made sense that James hadn’t been himself.

The James that Regulus had seen in the last week and a half was not the James Sirius had described. He was too serious and never smiled. Maybe James was trying to get back to himself?

But Regulus wasn’t having it. He’d seen James snap and he liked it. It was dangerous and thrilling.

“I don’t work well with others.” Was what Regulus settled on saying, glaring at James as he did.

“Try?” James suggested. “Sirius loves us both. I think it’d be easier for him if we didn’t hate eachother.”

Stupid James Potter with his stupid face and his stupid words that made total sense. 

Regulus glared at him. “We need to get this panel back to camp.”

James grinned and without another word picked up his end of the panel.

Regulus hated that James thought he’d succeeded in anything in this conversation. 

He hated even more that James was probably right.

*

Regulus found himself stood beside James as the rockets were launched. 

“Do you think we did it in time?” Regulus asked. They had enough fuel to make four rockets, Evan shot them off into the sky one after the other. They banged and fizzled as they shot off into the sky, shooting sparks around them as they began their wide arc upwards.

“I hope so,” James replied. It was early evening again now. None of them had slept much due to the action of the previous day. Night hadn’t quite fallen, but in the dim evening sunlight, the rockets lit everything up in red.

“Do you believe in wishing on stars Potter?” Regulus asked.

James frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Sirius used to talk about it,” Regulus said, gazing up at the rockets. “He used to say that people would wish on shooting stars and their wishes would be granted.”

“I dunno,” James admitted. “Never heard of that before. I don’t really get how a hunk of rock burning up would be able to grant a wish.”

“Maybe not. It’s stupid,” Regulus said quietly. 

“No, not at all,” James responded instantly. “It’s a nice thought. You like stars then?”

“Not particularly,” Regulus lied. He loved stars. He used to spend hours lying on his back staring up through the window on the ceiling of his parents room for just a glimpse of the stars as the Elder orbited around the earth. The stars looked so different from the ground. Regulus wasn’t sure if he found comfort in them anymore.

“What would you wish for?” James asked. “Pretend for a minute that the flares are shooting stars. What would you wish for?”

“You can’t tell people what you’re wishing for,” Regulus replied, still watching the flares in the distance as their trajectory changed and they began to head downwards. “That means that the wish won’t come true. That’s what Sirius always used to say anyway.”

James nodded, clearly deep in thought. “Where is Sirius anyway?”

Chapter Text

E U P H E M I A

Euphemia was exhausted. All day she had seen patient after patient with symptoms of oxygen deprivation. There was nothing she could do for any of them apart from periodically checking the radio for any sign that Evan had successfully landed. But no message came.

And she was useless.

She had five hours until 300 people would be killed. They would go to sleep in their beds and they would never wake up. The council would frame it as a malfunction of some kind. Lay the blame on the old space station. But Euphemia would know the truth. She would have to look people in the eyes and lie about how their friends and families died.

“People of the Elder. Today I need to talk to you about something important. So please could you do me the courtesy of lending me your ears for just a moment? My name is Fleamont Potter. I’m the Chief Engineer aboard the Elder. A month ago I discovered a serious flaw. One that I cannot brush under the rug. The life support systems on this space station are failing.”

“This is about our future. The Elder is dying. This ship, this glowing city in the sky that has shielded humanity for many generations - her time is ending. This is an undeniable reality.”

“Now, whilst there is still time, we must come together. I have always believed that dark times such as these can bring us together. I think everyone has the right to know what battle we’re fighting. I’m doing this because I want a life for all of you and for my child. Thank you.”

The video ended with James coming into the frame behind Fleamont as the recording device was shut off.

This was the closest thing Euphemia had to a photograph of her husband and son. Photographs were wasteful, even the computer memory that it took to keep a digital copy couldn’t be spared aboard the Elder. But she had kept the USB stick which stored her husband’s final message to the world at the back of her closet ever since he had been floated and now she stared at the picture of her husband and son, in the very room that she was in now.

It wasn’t right. 

None of this was right.

She couldn’t sit by and let more people die in a futile attempt to keep this horrid secret.

Perhaps she could even buy some time to allow Evan to get into contact with the ship. She didn’t believe that he was dead, because he had to be alive. Just like James had to be alive.

So she left her quarters and headed down to the communication centre and broadcasted the clip on the shipwide channel. 

When the message played through to completion, Euphemia steeled herself and broadcasted her own message. She hoped that Fleamont was right. That knowing the truth would bring the people on the Elder together. She wanted to do better. To be better. She didn’t want to choose who would live and who would die anymore.

“My husband was killed for trying to get that message out to you,” Euphemia said, eyes blazing as she stared directly at the camera. “We sent 100 children down to the ground in the hope that we could escape this sinking ship back down to Earth. Unfortunately, that hope seems to be lost. In five hours time, 300 people will be sacrified in an attempt to extend our oxygen supply. Unless we take action.”

Banging started on the door. The guards were here.

“The future doesn’t belong to the few, it belongs to all of us. Thank you.”

Euphemia shut off the feed as the door slid open and Alastor strode in flanked by two guards.

“Oh Effie,” Alastor said.

Euphemia set her jaw and stared back at Alastor.

“You voted for the culling?” Euphemia asked.

“I saw no other choice,” Alastor said.

Euphemia smiled sadly at him. “There’s always a choice.”

*

Euphemia was in handcuffs. It was a first for her and she wasn’t a fan of the experience.

They were in the council chambers and Euphemia was handcuffed to the table in the centre of the room, sitting in the seat she had at so many council meetings before. She had been escorted directly to the chambers from the communications centre and left alone for quite sometime before the council arrived and began debating the outcome of what Euphemia had done.

The conversation was halted when Frank Longbottom entered the room. The eyes of everyone gathered in the room turned to him.

“Sir,” Frank addressed Alastor Moody.

Bartemius Crouch was pacing. Alastor was watching a tablet in his hands which showed a live feed of the crowd gathered outside the council chambers. Kingsley was eyeing Euphemia aptly. The discussion had been heated before it fizzled out. Euphemia had left the council with very few options; she just had to pray that the people themselves would be able to pull together and overcome this. Even if she had no ideas how they would all pull through it.

“Go ahead Longbottom,” Alastor said. 

“The people gathered outside want to send someone in to speak to the council,” Frank said.

Alastor looked to Bartemius who nodded once his ascent.

Frank left and returned with a man by his side.

And Euphemia knew him. She had seen him in the medbay earlier that day stood beside his son who was suffering from severly low blood pressure due to oxygen deprivation. Amos Diggory was hardly a man, only a few years older than James, but he had arrived in Medbay clutching his son who was barely older than a year. There had been nothing that Euphemia could do other than give the poor screaming baby some extra fluids and a brief breath of proper fresh oxygen.

Amos looked around the room, shifting from one foot to the other.

His eyes rested on Euphemia.

“Ma’am,” Amos nodded at her. “I saw your video. Rubbish news.”

Despite the heavy grief in his eyes, Amos’ tone was light.

“I’m sorry you had to hear it like that,” Euphemia said. 

“No good way to hear it really.” Amos said, “So my son, Cedric- that’s what’s wrong with him? Oxygen deprivation?” 

“Yes,” Euphemia confirmed. 

Amos nodded and seemed to take a moment. He glanced around the room furtivley and then reached into his pocket and pulled out his ID tag.

“I’m here to volunteer,” Amos said. 

“Volunteer for what son?” Bartemius frowned.

“The culling Sir,” Amos said. “Give my wife and my son a chance. We’ve thought it through and there are people willing to do the same.” He turned back to look at Euphemia. “I heard what you said Ma’am about the future belonging to all of us. But some of us will have to make the sacrifice no matter what. So I’m going to give my future for my son’s.”

“And leave him without a father?” Euphemia asked.

“He’ll have his mother,” Amos said. “And he’ll be alive.”

Amos crossed to the table and placed his ID badge on the table.

He squared his shoulders and left the room. Euphemia felt like she was watching a funeral procession.

In peace, may you leave this shore.

Another person entered the council chambers after Amos had left. Euphemia didn’t know him. Alastor did. 

The man nodded at Alastor, but didn’t say anything else as he placed his ID badge down on the table beside Amos’

In love may you find the next. 

A woman entered. She was elderly. “I want to give my daughter and my grandson the life they deserve,” the woman said. “I’m old, I don’t have much more in me. But I do have this.”

She placed her ID down with the others.

Safe passage on your travels,

A steady stream of people came into the room and said their piece.

until our final journey on the ground.

The pile of ID chips on the table grew.

May we meet again.

By the evening, they had 500 volunteers for the culling. They had to turn people away. They rejected people who were considered essential personnel. 

300 people walked into a room later that night. None walked out.

*

Euphemia found herself in James’ cell. The council needed to debate what to do with her and no longer trusted her to be left alone after the stunt she had pulled. She understood. She sort of wished that she had been allowed to volunteer for the culling.

She had lost hope somewhere along the way since Evan had left. The fight had gone out of her and she now sat on the windowsill with her knees pulled up to her chest as she stared out of the window.

She tried to picture her son in this desolate room, staring out of this same window. She couldn’t. There were no signs of James left in the room. Everything that wasn’t standard issue for the lockup had been removed and sent to the redistribution center the moment he had been taken to the shuttle. But she still felt her son’s presence here. This was the last place she had hugged him. The last place she had heard his voice and held her baby boy in her arms.

As she watched the earth spin past by the window, something caught her eye. She thought for a moment that it was a trick of the light.

But no.

Four flares snaked their way across the ground down below.

And there it was. Hope had returned. 

Just a little too late to save Amos Diggory.

S I R I U S

Sirius was stupid. He had known that his whole life. His mother had told him this enough times. What he didn’t realise was exactly how stupid he was. Stupid enough it seemed, to walk off of the edge of a cliff whilst helping to collect what they needed to set up the flares.

He walked straight off the edge without even realising that it was an edge. Fell straight down. It couldn’t have been more than a 10 meter fall, but he whacked his head on a rock which sent him straight into unconciousness.

As he slept, he dreamt. 

The dreams were strange, they were more like snippets. His life playing out before his eyes. Perhaps that was what people talked about when they said their life flashed before their eyes when they died. Sirius was living all of his life at breakneck speed. 

Perhaps he was dead?

He was around one year old, far too young to remember anything concrete, but he was locked in the bedroom with his parents. His mother had been screaming and Sirius wanted to go and get a doctor. He tried to, but was given a hard smack across the face by his father and instructed to stay in the corner and stay out of the way. 

That was the first time either of his parents hit him. It certainly wasn’t the last.

Several hours later, Regulus was born. 

He screamed as he entered the world and Sirius was handed the baby in a bundle of cloth and instructed to keep him quiet so that their father could look after their mother.

“He’s your brother,” Orion Black had said sternly. “He’s your responsibility.”

Sirius knew this was important. He grinned down at the baby.

“Hey Reggie,” he muttered, offering the screaming infant one of his fingers to suck on. It did the job of shutting Regulus’ cries up very effectively. “You’re my little brother.”

The dream changed.

Sirius was six and Regulus was four. The pair of them lay on their backs in the middle of the room, staring up at the window in the ceiling of their parents’ room. Sirius was pointing out stars as they passed the window and Regulus was giggling at the stories Sirius made up about the stars.

The dream changed.

They were under the covers. It was late at night and their parents would be mad if they found the two of them awake, but Regulus had woken up from a nightmare and crawled into Sirius’ bed demanding a story. Sirius was reading the Illiad.

“My brothers of the sword! I would rather fight beside you than any army of thousands!” Sirius whispered into the night. “Let no man forget how menacing we are! We are lions! Do you know what’s there, waiting beyond that beach? Immortality! Take it! It’s yours!“

“Are we lions?” Regulus asked.

“We can be,” Sirius had assured him, glancing up from the book to look at his brother’s face.

“Can we get immortality?” Regulus asked.

“We can get anything,” Sirius grinned.

The dream changed.

They were much older now. Sirius was fourteen and Regulus twelve. Regulus was bleeding and Sirius was wheezing- fairly certain that his ribs were broken. 

It was fine though, he could go and find James and get some proper medical treatment from his mother. Regulus couldn’t. Regulus had to stay in the room or they’d find out about him and their parents would die.

“Stop it that hurts Sirius,” Regulus complained. 

“I need to clean it out Reggie,” Sirius chastised. He was mad at himself. Regulus wasn’t supposed to get hurt- ever. Sirius was the punching bag because Regulus was far more breakable than him and had no one but Sirius to put him back together. Sirius was shit at it. He’d tried to pick up what he could from James, but it was useless. Sirius was built to break things, not to mend them.

He couldn’t remember what had led to it, but Regulus had a deep gash in one of his cheeks and Sirius was worried that it would scar. He’d managed to steal some antiseptic from James and he thought that James would say the wound needed stitches, but Sirius wasn’t capable of that, so he found some tape to pull the harsh edges of the wound back together.

Sirius briefly considered the idea of dragging James over to help, but the warning from his mother always rang in his head in moments like this. It wasn’t just his parents that would be in danger if Regulus was discovered. Regulus would be in danger too. They might even float him. 

Sirius trusted James, but he couldn’t ask his best friend to keep this big of a secret. He couldn’t trust anyone apart from himself to keep Regulus alive.

“Tell me what it’s like on the ground again?” Regulus asked.

Sirius chuckled and did his best to hide the pain that shot through his ribs from a kick he had received after pulling his mother away from Regulus. 

Regulus liked it when Sirius made up stories about the ground for him. Sirius wasn’t totally sure that Regulus knew that the stories were made up, but he did it anyway because it bought a smile to his brother’s face.

Sirius told Regulus tales of the ground, with its rain and trees until Regulus fell asleep. It was only then that Sirius left to find James.

His ribs had been broken. Effie told him off for being so clumsy whilst James looked on with knowing eyes.

The dream changed.

And this memory? This memory was stamped into Sirius’ mind like no other. Branded on the inside of his brain like a wound that just wouldn’t heal.

Regulus was crying. Sobbing actually. The sound had made Sirius’ head hurt.

He had come back from hanging out with James to find his mother absolutely tearing into Regulus because he had - well Sirius couldn’t remember what Regulus had done, but it was insignificant. Regulus was sobbing and he had a bruise forming on one of his cheeks.

Sirius’ mother kicked Regulus’ foot and he fell to the ground, crumpling in a pile. And… well Sirius saw red.

He lunged at his mother and attacked her with a furvor. His father got involved and threw Sirius off of Walburga who screamed at him until her voice was horse. Sirius screamed back as his father held him back, then she started kicking Regulus again.

At some point, Regulus stopped crying. At some point Sirius stopped screaming for them to hit him instead and they did it.

At some point Sirius clawed his way out of their parents room and found a guard.

At some point Sirius showed up at James’ door with only four words on his tongue. “I did something bad.”

And then…

Sirius woke up.

He hadn’t died. 

But he didn’t know where he was and his head hurt. Actually his whole body hurt in a very similar way as it had when he had shown up at James’ door that day two years earlier. 

Sirius’ leg hurt the worst, that and his head. 

He sat up and blinked spots out of his vision, trying to take in his surroundings. He was in a cave. The lighting was dim but he could see signs that a person had been here. There were drawings on the walls of the cave and some items that could only have been placed there by human hands. Also, Sirius himself was on a crude cot. Like someone had placed him there.

Sirius reached down to where his leg hurt worst. His trousers were ripped and there was a large jagged wound all up his calf. The wound was clean and had been treated with what looked in the dim light like some kind of paste. Sirius’ hand shot up to his head and he found that a gash there had been subjected to a similar amount of healing. 

Someone was here. Sirius heard footsteps approaching and his head whipped up.

A man walked in. He was tall, even taller than James. He was wrapped in furs, which he slowly began to remove, revealing more of his scarred face.

Sirius was frozen where he sat on the bed, staring at the man.

This was a Grounder. A Grounder had bought him here and healed his wounds. The Grounder didn’t acknowledge Sirius initially. He took layers of fur off before he finally turned in Sirius’ direction.

He didn’t speak, he just approached quietly and reached for Sirius’ leg. Sirius flinched back, but the Grounder was strong, he held Sirius’ leg in place whilst he inspected the wound.

“Why did you heal me?” Sirius demanded, his voice coming out breathless.

The Grounder didn’t say anything. He seemed satisfied with the leg, and then moved his attention to Sirius’ face, his fingers poking at the wound and making Sirius flinch back again. The Grounder grabbed the back of his head to keep him still.

“At least buy me dinner first,” Sirius muttered his complaint.

The Grounder chuckled. 

Sirius blinked. “You understand me?”

The Grounder glared at Sirius. The man had light brown hair, that in more light probably appeared a sandy blonde. His face was long and quite pale, the skin was interrupted by a spattering of freckles and a long scar that ran from the far side of one of his eyebrows down to the other cheek. It puckered over his nose. His eyes were a very pale shade of green. Not like Regulus’ forest green, but like the green of murky water. They fascinated Sirius.

“You do understand me,” Sirius pressed.

He still said nothing and when he was satisfied that Sirius’ wound was okay, he released Sirius’ head and moved away again. Sirius watched as he rummaged in a bag, pulling out some meat. He handed a cooked slab of meat to Sirius, who took it with tentative fingers. 

“Tell me your name?” Sirius asked.

The Grounder turned his back on Sirius. Now that he had removed the furs, he was wearing only a sleeveless tshirt. It dipped low on his back, exposing the upper half of it which displayed some ink.

Sirius had always been fascinated with the idea of tattoos. There wasn’t much information about them in the Elder’s archives (it wasn’t considered useful information), but there were some photographs in the archives of before the bombs and lots of people had ink - permanent ink - decorating their bodies. Sirius was unfathomably jelous.

This man had a tattoo. It was a crescent shape just at the base of his neck. Bold and black against the pale skin.

“Fine, don’t tell me your name,’ Sirius grumbled. “I’ll just call you Moony then. That’s what your tattoo is of isn’t it? The moon?”

The Grounder turned to glare at Sirius.

“Moony,” Sirius tested the name on his lips. “Why are you helping me Moony?”

The man didn’t respond. He just continued glaring, taking a bite of the meat in his hand. He only stopped glaring when Sirius took a bite of his own food.

Moony stayed on the other side of the cave and still didn’t speak. He just watched Sirius slowly eat his food. When Sirius was done, he lay back down on the cot, his head was spinning and it felt better when he lay down.

“You just gonna stare at me from over there Moony?” Sirius asked.

Three sharp blasts of a horn could be heard in the distance.

Moony’s eyes narrowed and he started putting his furs back on. Sirius propped himself up to watch.

“Where are you going?”

Moony still remained silent. When he was dressed, he strode over to Sirius purposefully. He had a chain in his hand and Sirius didn’t realise what it was until the manacle was around his wrist and shackled down to the bed.

“What are you doing?” Sirius demanded, pulling on the chain which didn’t give. Predictably, Moony did not respond, he just shot Sirius a look. His eyes were narrowed slightly and his brow furrowed. It was… well despite the situation, Sirius couldn’t help but notice how handsome his captor was. His sharp features looked like a statue and the scar only did more to fascinate Sirius.

Then, Moony was gone. Turning his back to Sirius and hastening out of the cave.

“Hey!” Sirius shouted after him. “You can’t just leave me here!” Actually, it appeared that Moony could in fact leave him there, because he did. Sirius struggled against the manacle for a bit before realsing that it was useless.

He slumped back into the bed and stared at the cave ceiling above him, more confused than he ever had been in his entire life.

Chapter Text

R E G U L U S

“And you’re sure you haven’t seen him since the lake?” James demanded. It was the next morning and in the light of day there was still no sign of Sirius anywhere.

“No,” Regulus snapped. The pair of them were tromping through camp, checking in every tent for any sign of Sirius. There appeared to be none. “James he’s not anywhere.”

Regulus was in a foul mood. If it wasn’t enough that his brother appeared to be missing - again, then the fact that the Elder clearly hadn’t seen the flares and had killed 300 people would’ve been enough to put him in a terrible mood. 

It hadn’t been long after the flares had been fired, actually, that they had seen the display in the sky. Initially, people had celebrated, thinking that it was the Elder returning their signal and confirming that they had seen the flares. But James, with his jaw set and hard eyes, had stopped the celebration.

“It’s a funeral,” he said, pulling everyone up short. “This is what it looks like from the other side. 300 bodies being returned to the ground. It didn’t work. They didn’t see the flares.”

Evan had looked at Regulus with accusing eyes from beside Barty. “This is your fault,” he said.

Evan moved to approach, but James threw out a hand to stop him, also staring at Regulus. James’ eyes confused Regulus because they didn’t look angry exactly. Was that pity? Regulus wasn’t sure. He missed the fire of anger in James’ eyes, which was immeasurably better than whatever this was.

“He knows,” James said, his tone bland and unreadable. “Now he has to live with it.”

Regulus hadn’t slept much. He rose early and still couldn’t find Sirius. He had a bad feeling. A terrible one, so he woke James, who had initially grumbled at being woken and glared when he found out it was Regulus who had woken him, but immediately snapped to attention when Regulus said that he was worried about Sirius. This was their common ground. Their love for Sirius was the thing that kept drawing them back together.

“We’ll head out to the lake again,” James said. “Maybe he’s out there?”

“What if the Grounders got him?” Regulus demanded.

“I’ve still got the gun haven’t I?” James asked.

“We’ll need more than two bullets,” Regulus stated, eyes settling on where Mulciber was sitting with Avery and Goyle.

“I’ll get Marls-” James started, but Regulus was moving, coming to a stop in front of Mulciber, who looked up at him.

“My brother is missing,” Regulus stated.

“And?” Mulciber asked.

“And you’re coming to help me find him,” Regulus said. “All of you.”

Mulciber regarded Regulus for a second with a strange expression on his face. Regulus wasn’t certain, but he was around 75% sure that Mulciber was scared. Specifically, he was scared of Regulus. How had that happened? Regulus wasn’t sure, but if it was something he could use to his advantage, he would do it. Regulus pondered this for only a moment.

“Or what?” Mulciber asked.

“Or I’ll use Potter’s gun to shoot you and string you up to distract the Grounders,” Regulus stated. He had no intention of doing it. It probably wouldn’t help at all. But Mulciber didn’t know that and Regulus had no qualms about using that to his advantage.

Mulciber eyed Regulus pointedly. Then he seemed to give in. “Avery, Goyle, get some fucking weapons. I guess we’re going out to find Big Black again.”

Regulus smiled triumphantly.

“Barty!” Regulus barked.

It had been strange in the last day not to have Barty almost constantly by his side. Regulus had grown used to the boy’s slightly unhinged commentary of everything going on. But Barty’s best friend was here now, he didn’t need Regulus anymore. Regulus was doing his best not to be bitter about it. It didn’t help that Evan seemed to hate him and eyed him with nothing but suspicion. 

“What?” Barty emerged from a tent nearby, followed by Evan.

“Sirius is missing,” Regulus stated. “You’re coming. We need to find him.”

“He’d better not be making a habit out of having people rescue him,” Barty rolled his eyes. “He’s pretty, but not pretty enough to warrant it.”

Evan punched Barty’s arm. “Be nice.”

“Please, Barty?” James asked, his tone was far more pleasant than the one Regulus had opted for.

“Fine, fine!” Barty threw up his hands. “But you’d better be bringing that gun Potter. I still want to see you fire it.”

James looked a little green at the prospect but didn’t reply.

“I’m coming too,” Evan said. “I only just got you back Bee, you’re not running off without me.”

Regulus frowned, looking between Evan and Barty. They were friends, yes. But Regulus suspected that perhaps there was something more than that. He filed his suspicions away to inspect later when Sirius wasn’t missing and he could divert his brain power to thoughts other than an image of Sirius bleeding out somewhere. 

“No,” James said quickly, his tone firm but kind. “No, we need you to get the radio working. The Elder didn’t see our signal. We need to talk to them.”

“The radio is a piece of shit,” Evan said.

“Oh c’mon Ev, you can fix it. I know you can,” Barty replied. His tone wasn’t his usual teasing one, but a far softer encouraging one. Regulus’ suspicion of more between Barty and Evan only intensified at this.

“Mary will help,” James offered. “300 people won’t be enough, they’ll have to do another culling.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Evan replied.

“Baby Black, are we doing this or what?” Mulciber demanded. He was on his feet and had a weapon in his hand. Avery and Goyle too. Mulciber had seemingly grabbed two other people that Regulus did not know to help.

“We’re doing this,” Regulus replied, Mulciber handed him a dagger.

“Fix the radio Evan,” James said. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

*

Regulus crouched at the bottom of the cliff and dipped his hand into the puddle of blood, and looked at the footsteps which retreated off into the trees.

“Anything down there Baby Black?” Mulciber shouted from the top of the cliff.

“Yeah,” Regulus replied, hating that he was now responding to that god-awful nickname. “He was here. Someone took him, I think.” Regulus couldn’t tear his eyes away from the puddle of blood, but he heard someone using the rope that they had tossed over the small cliff to come and join Regulus at the bottom.

“He’s injured then,” James said, squatting down beside Regulus.

“Someone carried him away,” Regulus replied, gesturing in the direction of the footsteps. “Those prints are deep.”

“If they took him- The Grounders I mean- then he’s alive. Just like last time,” James stated.

“Yeah maybe,” Regulus wished that he could be as certain as James. There was a horrible gnawing feeling in his stomach.

Just yesterday, Regulus had been willing to let everyone on the Elder die to save his brother and his actions had directly led to the deaths of 300 people. People he didn’t know or care about, but 300 people all the same. That brought the death toll that had been caused by his birth to a round 302. He didn’t want to think about what he would do if those deaths had all been for nothing.

If Sirius died anyway, Regulus suspected that he would simply curl up in a ball and die right along with his brother. Either that or burn the whole world down. Regulus wasn’t certain. He wouldn’t have to work out which route he would take until his brother’s cold dead body was in his arms. 

“They’ve got him!” Regulus called up to the group waiting at the top of the cliff. “Get down here, we’re going after them!”

Not waiting a second longer than he had to, Regulus took off, following the deep tracks which would hopefully lead to his brother.

*

They walked for some time and it gave Regulus time to think. 

He was beginning to hate having time to think, especially when James Potter was tramping along through the forest beside him. Regulus concluded that if Sirius did die and he was forced to burn the world down, he’d probably let James Potter live. 

This thought in itself was infuriating and Regulus didn’t like it. He didn’t want to probe it any further, wanted to leave it untouched. But Regulus found that somehow, he cared what James thought of him. He wasn’t sure when the change had happened, but he felt ashamed at the deaths of those 300 people simply because of the bland way James had looked at him and said ‘now he has to live with it’ . 

Somehow that comment had gotten under Regulus’ skin in a way that he hadn’t thought was possible. He couldn’t stand the palpable disappointment that had rolled off of James when their eyes met.

He knew that the older boy’s opinions shouldn’t matter to him. But they did. James was steady and unwavering, he had proved this much to Regulus so far. And he had morals. Morals he wouldn’t break for anyone. Secretly, Regulus wondered if he could push James far enough to overcome his moral compass. Regulus found that he respected James even if he thought it was slightly stupid and likely to get the boy killed. The thought of James getting himself killed unsettled Regulus even further.

James found himself firmly in the category of people that Regulus wanted dead by his own hands only. The only other person who had found themselves in that category was Sirius, and maybe Barty. It was doing something funny to Regulus’ head. Regulus wasn’t certain he’d kill for James the way he would for Sirius, but Regulus certainly wanted James alive.

“It’s okay if you feel guilty,” James said, breaking the silence of the forest. The pair of them were leading the way. The group of eight made their way through the forest quietly, regularly stopping to check for tracks that indicated where Sirius had been taken.

“I don’t feel guilty,” Regulus said immediately.

This was the wrong thing to say. James’ lips turned down into a frown.

“I just want Sirius alive,” Regulus stated. “I’ll do anything.”

James huffed a heavy breath. “Yeah, whatever.”

James didn’t speak again. He kept his eyes away from Regulus, trained on the ground. This meant that James didn’t notice the clear signs of civilisation until Barty brought attention to them. Regulus didn’t either, he was too busy looking at James.

“I don’t speak Grounder, but I think they want us to keep out,” Barty said, his tone full of forced humour. Regulus tore his eyes away from James, feeling that something funny was happening to his stomach. His eyes settled on several bodies tied to trees. The bodies were in various states of decay.

James’ eyes snapped up and his face paled at the sight.

“Get the gun out Potter,” Regulus said.

“What?” Mulciber asked, his tone was laced with unease. “You’re not getting me in there. This is a boundary. Remember what happened last time we crossed one of those?”

Regulus did remember. He expected he’d never get the image of Sirius being impaled by that spear out of his head.

He settled his eyes on Mulciber, smoothing his face out into a mask of calm. “Yes, my brother was run through with a spear. If you recall, I got him back then. I will now too. Potter, take out the gun, we’re carrying on. Mulciber, if you’re too scared you can go back.”

That was all the prompting that the two people Regulus didn’t know needed to turn around and leave. Goyle shifted on his feet but watched Mulciber as he weighed options. The boy seemed to decide that he wasn’t scared enough to not rise to Regulus’ challenge and set his jaw.

Slower now, the group continued to move forward.

James pulled the gun out of his jacket and cocked it, Regulus could see that James’ hands were shaking, but he decided not to comment on it. Now was the time to find out if James really would fire it at a person. Regulus was eager to find out.

*

“There are no more footprints,” Barty remarked. He had fallen into step beside Regulus and was clutching a spear so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

“Keep looking,” Regulus gritted out. His teeth were clenched and his jaw was set so tightly he was slightly worried he was causing permanent damage. But Barty was right, there were no more footprints, no more little puddles of blood, nothing for them to follow to indicate where Sirius had gone. 

Three sharp blasts of a horn sounded through the silent woods. Regulus froze in his spot immediately, eyes darting around the trees. The horn did not sound that far away and it sent a cold chill down Regulus’ spine.

“What was that?” Avery hissed.

“A horn, what did it sound like?” Regulus replied, his voice a whisper.

“Acid fog?” James asked. “Should we run?”

“No,” Barty said. “That was one blast of the horn remember, that was three.”

“What does three mean?” Mulciber demanded.

The only reason Regulus spotted it was because he was watching the forest around them so closely. A blur. A figure darting between the trees and disappearing again. 

“They’re here,” Regulus muttered.

“They? The Grounders?” Barty hissed. “Where?”

“One of them is over there,” Regulus jerked his head in the direction that he had seen the movement. “I think that horn was a warning. About us.”

Before they could react any further, a spear zoomed out of the forest to Regulus’ left. It shot just a few centimetres past James’ head, ramming to a halt deep inside Goyle’s skull. The man crumpled to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. 

Then they were all running. Zigzagging through trees like their lives depended on it, which they quite possibly did. Regulus’ heart was thumping in his ears. Mulciber was leading the charge, ploughing through the forest, running straight through brambles and bushes when it happened.

Mulciber must’ve run over a trip wire or something, because one second he was in front of Regulus, and the next second a log had swung out of nowhere and thrown Mulciber to the side where he landed directly on a spear, which was so sharp that it punctured straight through his side and jutted out on the other side of his body. There would be no hope for him, Regulus could see that. The spear had gone in just below his left arm and straight through his chest. Mulciber seemed to stop breathing only seconds after.

“Shit!” Barty staggered into Regulus’ who had skidded to a halt to stop himself from being hit by the log.

“What the fuck?” Avery demanded. His eyes were wide as he took in Mulciber’s certainly dead body. 

Regulus didn’t let himself give into shock or fear. He kept his mind focused. It was something he had learnt as a very young child- to compartmentalise. Keep focused on what mattered until the danger had passed. The danger was no longer from his mother, but rather from the Grounders.

“They were herding us here,” Regulus stated. “They’ve stopped chasing us for now. Be careful, there might be more traps. Keep your eyes peeled.”

“You’re insane!” Avery exclaimed. “You want us to keep going? Goyle and Mulciber are dead, we should go back to camp!”

Before Regulus could reply, a single sharp horn sounded through the trees.

“Now that one is acid fog,” Barty stated. “We should run?”

“No,” James snapped. He had slung his backpack off of his shoulder and was rummaging in it. Regulus noticed how pale James was, but his eyes seemed focused. “We won’t make it back to camp, we’ll just have to hope this is enough.”

James pulled a large swath of fabric from the bag. Regulus recognised it as having been a part of the parachute from Evan’s pod. He wondered when James had grabbed it, but only for a second because James was throwing the parachute over the four of them and crouching low to the ground.

Regulus noted that he seemed to be the only person not in some form of shock. Barty was shaking as he too dropped to the ground and Avery looked like he was about to throw up. Regulus grabbed Avery and pulled him down, immediately setting about helping James to stuff the parachute under their butts to seal them in.

“Will this keep the fog out?” Regulus asked.

“I don’t know,” James’ voice was shaking as he spoke. “I hope so.”

Regulus snorted, “You hope so? You’re banking our lives on a hope?”

“Are you a fucking psycho?” Avery demanded, staring at Regulus. “You’re laughing? You just got two of our people killed on this fucking rescue mission.”

“Add it to my tab?” Regulus suggested. He amended his mental death toll to 304, he hadn’t expected to add to it so quickly, but there wasn’t much to be done about it now. It was all for Sirius so that Sirius could live. That was the only important thing.

“You’re crazy,” Avery muttered. “Fucking insane.”

Regulus didn’t reply.

They were all close together, faces less than a meter apart.

Regulus noticed that James had a small bleeding wound on his face from where he had likely caught it when they were running through the forest. It was just above his eyebrow and a small trickle of blood traced its way down James’ face and into his eye. He blinked and wiped at it underneath his glasses, which were askew and smudged.

The only sound was their breathing.

After an age, Barty finally broke the silence. “How long are we supposed to wait?”

“How do we know if the fog is actually out there?” Avery asked.

“I think we would feel it?” James said.

Very carefully, Regulus reached to the edge of the fabric and lifted it up, ready to snap it back down if the yellow fog began to snake its way in. Nothing happened, so Regulus threw the fabric off of him and looked around.

His eyes caught on a single figure running through the woods. Away from them, not towards them.

Sirius is out there, was the only thought Regulus found that he could grasp onto as he started forward worldlessly to follow the person. A hand on his shoulder stopped him and he turned to see James had also extracted himself from the parachute.

“The fog?” Barty asked, throwing the parachute off of him as he spoke.

“Maybe it was a false alarm,” Avery suggested. “Now can we run?”

“Sirius,” was all Regulus said, eyes not wavering from James’ face.

James nodded once and heaved a calming breath. In one of his hands, the gun was still clutched, safety off, ready to fire.

“We follow that Grounder,” James hissed, gesturing at the retreating figure which he had spotted too. “He could lead us to Sirius.”

Avery stared at James with his mouth slightly open but didn’t protest. Regulus supposed this was what James was good for. People- even terrified people who had just watched two of their friends die- listened to him. Even terrified for his life, James had a certain calmness to him that was comforting.

*

The first thing Regulus saw when they entered the cave they followed the Grounder to was Sirius chained to a cot. He was a bloody mess, trousers ripped to reveal a wound on his leg and blood covering his face from a wound on his forehead. Sirius was watching the grounder aptly as he began to strip off his furs.

Regulus wasn’t planning on hesitating to take the Grounder out. But James beat him to it. He snuck up behind the man and bought the butt of the gun down hard on his head.

Regulus had known that James was strong, having tried to pin him down just a few days earlier, but he hadn’t realised James was strong enough to bring a gun down hard enough on someone’s head to knock them out in a single blow. He was though, the man crumpled. Within seconds, James was at Sirius’ side.

“How the- What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, eyes wide with surprise.

“We came to save you,” James said. His hands moved to the chains around Sirius’ wrist, keeping him on the bed. “Is there a key?”

“He has it,” Sirius said weakly.

Regulus was in motion before he realised it, swooping down to the Grounder and patting him down until he found a key. Once he had it, he hurried over to Sirius and freed him from the chains.

“Reggie?” Sirius asked, scrambling into a sitting position and rubbing his wrist.

“Hey Sirius,” Regulus said flatly. “Je suis content que tu sois en vie.”

The words didn’t cover half of the relief he felt at seeing his brother still breathing in front of him. No words. There was nothing to encapsulate it.

“Putain,” Sirius cursed. “You’re crazy. Unhinged. Shit! You came after me?”

Regulus frowned, “of course.”

Sirius scrambled to his feet, “Okay, fine. We’ll talk about this later. We should go before he wakes up.”

Regulus turned to look at the Grounder who was still lying on his side on the floor. Barty was crouched over the man, holding something in his hands. Regulus felt a white bubble of rage surge up. This person had taken his brother from him. Regulus simply couldn’t let him walk away.

“He’s not going to wake up,” Regulus decided. For Sirius. This man could never be allowed to hurt his brother again. Regulus simply wouldn’t allow it. 

“Barty, move out of the way,” Regulus said. He clutched his dagger tighter and started forward.

Sirius caught his arm. “Reggie stop, he didn’t hurt me-”

Regulus shook Sirius’ hand off of his arm and glared at his brother. “They started this Sirius.”

“And that’s a good enough reason to kill him?” Sirius’ voice sounded slightly weak and he was swaying slightly, keeping weight off of his bad leg.

“He was going to kill you, Sirius-”

“Guys,” Barty said, still crouched beside the Grounder. He turned to look at them and Regulus saw that he was holding a horn in his hands. “The guy has a horn, what if-”

Barty didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. The Grounder was apparently awake and he suddenly moved, twisting his body to jam a dagger into Barty’s stomach.

And there. Regulus found out that there was a second person he would kill for and it was not James Potter. Barty Crouch lay bleeding and Regulus started forward with his dagger raised. He didn’t have the presence of mind to use it though, lunging out with his fist and doing everything he could to keep the man down- away from Barty and his brother.

Somehow, Barty had ended up being someone Regulus cared about.

And then, Regulus had his arms locked around the Grounder and his dagger to the man’s throat. He could have done it. It would have been easy to just slide the knife into the flesh and end this man’s life. But Regulus locked eyes with his brother, who was shouting at him to stop.

“Reggie no!” Sirius shouted. “You can’t kill him!”

And Regulus had never been good at saying no to his brother. Not for anything.

“We can’t let him go,” Regulus spat.

James and Avery were on their knees beside Barty, who Regulus saw was awake, but shaking quite violently.

“We need to get back to camp now,” James stated. His voice wasn’t shaking anymore, he sounded sure and certain. Regulus could tell that James had entered the same focused state he had been in when they got back to camp with the seaweed for Sirius. Like the world had fallen away and all that mattered to James was saving the dying person in front of him. “I can’t do anything here. We need to go!”

“Reggie, if you won’t let him go, tie him up and bring him with us,” Sirius said desperately. “We need to go now.”

Chapter Text

J A M E S

James ran quicker than he ever had. He ploughed ahead of the group, going through everything in his head that he would need to do to stop Barty from dying. They had already lost two people that day - Goyle and Mulciber. James was absolutely not going to let Barty die. 

Avery was strong and he carried Barty in his arms, keeping up easily with the group. Regulus followed, with a dagger pressed into the Grounder’s back as he urged him forwards and a limping Sirius brought up the rear. Sirius’ leg and head wound probably needed medical attention too, but James was focused for now on Barty.

He made it to camp a full minute before anyone else.

“CLEAR ME A FUCKING SPACE IN THE SHUTTLE!” James barked as he ran through the camp, gathering any medical supplies he could think of, including the remainder of the seaweed he had gathered to treat Sirius. He hadn’t had the chance to properly look at the wound in the dark cave, but he knew it was bad.

Camp was a flurry of activity by the time the rest of the group arrived, hurrying straight into the shuttle where James was already waiting for them having sent Pandora off to boil water and get him some rags.

Barty was placed down in the same spot where James had killed Crabbe. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he hurried to Barty’s side and began feeling his neck to check that Barty hadn’t died on the journey over. He hadn’t; it was a start, at least. He then set about ripping Barty’s t-shirt away so that he could look at the wound.

Somewhere far away, someone sucked in a harsh breath and started shouting. James couldn’t register anything other than the dying boy on the floor before him.

The wound was bad. Just below Barty’s ribs. James didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even feel like he could remove the dagger without making it all worse. Barty would probably bleed out before James could stop it and that wasn’t even taking into account the internal damage probably done by the blade.

It took a few minutes for James to register that it was Evan shouting. He tore his eyes away from Barty’s wound to look at Evan.

“Why are you stopping?” Evan demanded. “Keep going! You can save him!”

James was shaking slightly as he met Evan’s desperate eyes. He shook his head. “No, not me. I can’t- I - I need my mother. I need to talk to her.”

“The radio’s still not working,” Mary said. James hadn’t noticed that she was there, but she was stood beside Evan watching the scene unfold.

“We need it working,” James said. “Evan, can you fix it?”

Evan let out a horrible, helpless noise as he looked at Barty lying on the ground. Evan’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“Evan!” James snapped. “Can you fix it?”

“Yes- fuck,” Evan whimpered, “James you have to save him-”

“Get my mother on the radio and I will,” James promised. “Go!”

Evan darted off, with Mary in tow. James turned his attention back to Barty again and began spreading antiseptic around the wound as delicately as he could. There wasn’t an awful lot more that he could do, so he pushed to his feet and began pacing.

Regulus descended from the ladder, now without the Grounder. With three quick strides, the younger Black crossed the room and shoved his older brother.

“What the fuck Reggie?” Sirius demanded, glaring at Regulus. Regulus met his glare without a flinch, which was quite impressive as people normally shrunk back from Sirius’ intense grey stare.

“No, what the fuck Sirius,” Regulus stated, his voice was cold. “Why the fuck where you protecting the Grounder back there?”

“He saved me!” Sirius insisted.

“No,” Regulus snapped. “You’re wrong. I saved your life. He was going to kill you.”

“No he wasn’t.”

“You’re fucking deluded,” said Regulus. “Would’ve used you for bait again like last time-”

“I don’t think so-”

“Clearly you don’t think! We lost two people out there trying to save your ass!”

“Oh so now you care about them!” Avery jumped in. “Now your precious brother is safe you can pretend to give a shit about Goyle and Mulciber?”

“Shut up Avery,” Regulus growled. He was so calm, but his eyes looked a little feral, darting over to Barty every so often. “If you had let me kill the Grounder, then Barty wouldn’t be dying!”

“Stop!” Sirius bellowed. He was glaring at his little brother in a way James had never seen Sirius glare at anyone before. “Stop it Reggie. Stop blaming me for shit you do! What happened to Barty is not my fault. All those people on the Elder? Not my fault. Stop trying to protect me Reggie, I don’t want you to become a killer because of me!”

“Too late,” Regulus said blandly. His gaze settled on Sirius intensely and no longer flitted to Barty. “You made me this Sirius. You put the first two bodies on my conscience. You did that to save me. I’ll burn the whole world down and watch if that’s what it takes to keep you safe. Just like you would for me.”

Sirius was frozen in his brother’s glare, breathing heavily. But Regulus wasn’t done.

“Everything I’ve done is your fault Sirius,” Regulus continued. “Loving in blood and pain is the only way I know how to do it. You got me locked up on the Elder, you got Mother and Father killed because of me. You made me a murderer Sirius-”

“NO!” Sirius bellowed. “No, Reggie. They got themselves killed. It was their choice. They died because they chose to have you. I didn’t get a choice. I was a year old and I was holding this life in my hands and I knew I had to do everything I could to protect you, always. You’re not a killer Reggie, I know you’re not-”

“I never asked you to do that!” Regulus snapped. 

If there was one thing James knew about his best friend, it was that sometimes Sirius could be cruel. When he was overwhelmed or hurting his words could have just as much bite as any punch. What Sirius said next still came as a shock.

“My life ended the day you were born,” Sirius stated. The anger seemed to have bubbled out of him and he stood opposite his brother, just as calm and collected as Regulus was. It was unnerving. “The second you were handed to me I died. I did everything for you. And you just keep taking and taking-”

“For you! All of it is for you! My life was over before I even breathed,” Regulus stated, eyes narrowed. “I-”

“Enough!” James bellowed, unable to take it anymore. “Both of you, that is enough!”

The Black brothers froze and turned to him. James felt very much like he was standing in the middle of a duel. He heaved a breath. It was painful to watch. He could see just how much the brothers loved eachother. Sirius said it in words, Regulus said it in actions (even if those actions were somewhat violent). He couldn’t stand to watch them tear into eachother like this when they were so clearly on the same side. 

James heaved a heavy breath. “Sirius, go sit the fuck down and get your weight off of that leg. Regulus, just fuck off for now okay? I need quiet if you’re expecting me to save Barty’s life.”

“But-” Regulus started

“Stop. Just stay away from eachother, please? We don’t have time for this right now.”

*

It was bad. Infact it was terrible.

The wound on Barty’s chest kept oozing blood. The only mercy was that the boy remained unconscious. James had wrapped a cloth around the knife, which was doing something to stop the blood from oozing out, but not enough.

To make matters worse, a storm had rolled in. Outside of the shuttle it was thundering and rain was beating down unrelentingly. Wind whipped through the camp, disturbing the makeshift tents and blowing anything that was loose around. A few people were struck by flying items before James had realised that everyone was waiting for him to say something.

When he realised this, he ordered people to secure anything that could blow around and then to get into the shuttle for shelter.

Evan was in a corner. He said that the radio was working now, but the storm was screwing with the signal so he didn’t think that anyone on the Elder could hear them. James needed to speak to his mother to save Barty, who was slowly bleeding out on the floor. 

It was bad. 

“Calling the Elder Station,” Evan said into the handpiece for the millionth time. “This is Evan Rosier, calling from the ground.” The wind was battering the shuttle from the outside. 

“Are you sure it’s on the right frequency?” Mary asked.

“Yes I’m sure!” Evan snapped. His nerves appeared to be frayed and his hands were shaking.

“Keep trying,” James said.

There was a crowd gathered in the shuttle. Everyone was packed onto the ground floor, watching Evan with the radio in tense silence. Some milled around on the first floor and the top floor was being used to keep the Grounder that Regulus had insisted on bringing back with him. Avery and Regulus were upstairs with him, making sure he didn’t escape. But everyone else was downstairs, crowded around the walls and sitting in seats.

James had made sure to do a headcount before closing the doors against the rain and wind. 94 people inside. Of the 102 people on the ground, eight were dead.

“Calling Elder Station. I am transmitting from the ground with the 100. Please respond!” Evan said again.

“James, he’s seizing!” Pandora shouted from where she was sat beside Barty.

“Get him on his side!” James bellowed, hastening over to Barty’s side.

James shoved a bundled up piece of fabric under Barty’s head and very carefully moved him onto his side as Barty shook under his hands. James knew that he wasn’t supposed to restrain someone having a seizure, but he couldn’t risk Barty jostling the knife, so he held Barty’s arms down until he stopped seizing.

“Calling Elder station, this is Evan Rosier-”

“This is a restricted channel, where are you calling from,” a voice came through on the radio’s speaker. It was crackly, but certainly there. A man’s voice, stern and sure. James felt his heart drop through the floor in relief.

“This is Evan Rosier, calling from the ground,” Evan said, his voice laced with relief and desperation. James abandoned Barty’s side and pushed through the crowd to stand beside Evan. “The 100 are alive. I need you to get me Dr Euphemia Potter. I need Dr Potter.”

The radio continued to crackle, but nothing else was said. James held his breath.

“Evan? ” A woman’s voice now. “Evan? Is that you? Can you hear me?”

James almost collapsed with relief. He had never, in his entire life, been so grateful to hear his mother’s voice.

“Mum?” James asked.

“James? Is that you?”

A choked sob ripped through James’ throat. “Yes- fuck- Yes, Mum it’s me!”

And then that switch flipped inside James again. He couldn’t dwell on this relief, he didn’t have the time. Barty was dying and James had to save him.

“Mum, I need your help!” James stated, speaking very clearly so that it went through plainly how important it was that they listen to him. “One of our people was stabbed by a Grounder. He’s dying, I need your help.”

There was a brief pause.

“James?” A man’s voice said, different to the first one. “This is the Minister speaking. What do you mean a Grounder?”

“There are people down here,” James said quickly. “We’re not alone. Some people must’ve survived. The earth is survivable. But we don’t have time for this. He’s dying. Mum, the knife’s still in his chest. I didn’t want to remove it.”

“Patch me through to medical.” Euphemia’s voice was stern and commanding. James could’ve cried with relief. Her ‘work-switch’ had clearly been flipped and he was now speaking to Dr Potter rather than his mother.

“Of course,” someone else said.

“James, I need to go to medbay. I’ll be one minute and then I’ll be with you,” Euphemia said.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Go,” James said.

“Is my son there?” The voice of the Minister came through. James couldn’t determine the emotions in the man’s voice without seeing his face. “ Is Barty there?”

“He’s the one who’s been stabbed Sir,” James replied. 

No one replied for a minute and then Euphemia was back.

“Okay James, I’m going to talk you through this step by step,” Euphemia said.

James hurried back through the crowd to Barty’s side. “Evan turn the radio up as loud as it goes and everyone shut the fuck up!” 

The hushed mutters and whispers from those gathered immediately stopped.

“Find [-] ribs [-] located,” Euphemia’s voice came through garbled on the radio, static breaking up every word so that they couldn’t be understood.

“Evan, what’s happening?” James demanded, rolling up his sleeves and splashing water on his hands to clean them as best he could. The last thing he wanted to do was make this any worse by getting Barty’s wound infected. 

“It’s not the radio!” Evan snapped back. “It’s the storm!”

“Shit,” James cursed. “Fuck okay.”

“James can you hear me?” Euphemia’s voice came through clearer this time.

“Yes!” James replied. “Tell me what to do!”

“We need to [-] hurricane right above you,” Euphemia said. “What’s the angle of the blade?”

“Sharp upwards angle,” James replied. 

If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was beside his mother in medbay as she showed him how to stitch a wound together when he had asked. He only ever started taking an interest in his mother’s job after Sirius started showing up at his door, bruised and battered, and refusing to go to medical. Now, James knew that Sirius was worried that if people realised his parents were hurting him that they’d search their quarters and find Regulus. At the time, James had just wanted to help his friend.

“I’d say around 45 degrees. I can’t tell how deep it’s in,” James said.

“That’s alright,” said Euphemia. “Don’t remove the knife yet. Where is it located?”

“On his left side,” James said. “Just below the ribs.”

Evan had abandoned the radio and come to stand beside Barty, staring down at the boy with an expression so painful that it physically hurt James to look at. 

Pandora pressed the bottle of whisky that Barty had taken from the overturned car into James’ hands.

“To sterilise your hands,” Pandora said. “We don’t have any antiseptic left.”

James nodded and poured the alcohol over his hands before offering it to Evan. Evan frowned down at it.

“If you want to help, you need to sterilise your hands,” James said, shaking the bottle at Evan. Evan gritted his teeth and took it, taking a swig before pouring some over his hands.

“James, can you see any fluid?” Euphemia asked.

James crouched down and very carefully peeled back the cloth around the knife. He wanted to do this right, so he decided he’d only tell his mother about things that he was actively looking at. 

There was a commotion. Two girls shoving at each other and shouting.

“Shut the fuck up!” James growled at them, tearing his eyes away from Barty’s wound. “Evan, get them out.”

“But the Grounder’s upstairs,” Evan said. 

“I don’t give a shit,” James said. “Get them out.”

“Everyone upstairs, now!” Evan turned to the group and started herding people towards the ladder.

James turned his attention back to Barty. “Mum, can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a lot of blood, mostly red, some looks a little dark.”

“But just blood? Nothing else?” Euphemia asked.

“Just blood,” James confirmed. 

“Just blood is good. Really good,” Euphemia said. “We got lucky here James.”

Evan was back beside Barty, staring at his face, pressing his hands to Barty’s forehead. “You’re lucky Bee,” Evan muttered. Then he looked over at James. “He feels warm.”

James could hear a muttered conversation on the other end of the radio, but it was too garbled and quiet for him to make out properly. 

“Mum, what was that? We didn’t catch it.” James said.

“Okay James, we’re going to pull the knife out now. Listen to me closely. You need a firm grip and to angle it very slightly towards his right side as you do it. One swift motion.”

“How very slightly?” James asked. 

“3 millimetres,” Said a second voice. James thought it might be Poppy Pomfrey, but he wasn’t certain.

“3 [-] pull [-] James?” The radio was garbled again.

“Okay, 3 millimetres. I got it!” James said. 

“Keep your hands steady Jamie,” Euphemia said. Her voice was unwaveringly comforting. “You’ve helped me with more intricate procedures than this. Once the knife is out the worst part is over. We don’t think there will be much internal damage if we do this right.”

James took a steadying breath. “Okay, here goes nothing.” James pressed one hand against Barty’s chest to steady himself and the other on the hilt of the knife.

“He’s waking up,” Evan exclaimed. Sure enough, Barty was stirring. His breathing becoming more erratic.

“Hold him still,” James commanded. “Barty, you can’t move. I’m taking the knife out of you now.”

“Good plan,” Barty stuttered as Evan placed his hands firmly on Barty’s shoulders, holding him down on the ground.

“Slowly does it James,” Euphemia said. 

Painstakingly slowly, James began to pull. Barty’s screams ripped through the room as a clap of thunder shuddered the space. Another one sounded as James finally pulled the tip of the knife out of Barty’s chest.

“Okay, it’s out!” James said. 

“Keep pressure on the wound,” Euphemia ordered.

Barty was still screaming in pain and groaning.

“Evan give him some of that whisky for the pain,” James instructed.

“I thought you said alcohol was toxic Potter,” Barty managed.

“Stop distracting me while I save your life,” James said.

Barty fell silent but that was perhaps because he was drinking whisky from the flash Evan offered him. 

“Okay [-] stitch up the wound [-] help or can you do it?” Euphemia asked.

“I can stitch it up myself,” James said. He grabbed the needle and thread that he’d pulled out earlier. “Give me a minute.”

Once it was done, James sat back on his heels and let out a sigh. At some point in the process, Barty had fallen unconscious again. He was pale and clammy. Evan sat close to his head, pressing a cool cloth into Barty’s temple.

“It’s done.”

“Okay, do you have anything to cover the wound?” 

“We’ll make do,” James said. “Almost out of gauze.”

“Should he be this pale?” Evan asked weakly. “He’s really warm too.”

“He’s lost a lot of blood, Evan” Euphemia said. “But if Barty is anywhere near as tough as you then he’ll be fine.”

James pressed a hand to Barty’s chest to feel his temperature and sucked in a sharp breath. “No, Mum, Evan’s right. He’s feverish and his breathing is uneven.”

“Give him some time to recover. Tell me if he gets any worse, but I think he’s out of the woods now.”

James sighed again and scrubbed at his tired eyes. “Down here, there’s nothing but woods.”

“James?” Euphemia asked. James could sense in her tone that her ‘work-switch’ had flipped again. That was her mum voice.

“I’m fine Mum,” James said. “I promise.”

“Is Sirius down there with you?” She asked.

“Yeah, he’s here. He’s alive.” James replied.

“It’s so good to hear your voice, sweetie,” Euphemia said.

“Yeah, you to,o Mum,” James admitted with a small smile. He pushed up to his feet and cast a look at Evan, who was now cradling Barty’s head in his lap with a look so tender that James felt like he was intruding. “Look Mum, we can talk later, yeah? I need to check on everyone upstairs.”

“Okay James,” Euphemia replied. “I love you. Tell Sirius I love him too.”

“I will.”

*

James went upstairs and checked on those gathered. He assured everyone that Barty was out of the woods and would probably be fine. Then he was directed by a pale Marlene to continue up the ladder, apparently, when everyone was shooed upstairs the grounder had been moved to the very top of the shuttle.

“Why is he tied up like that?” James demanded as soon as he emerged at the top of the ladder.

The Grounder was tied with his arms out to the sides. His face was bloodier than James remembered. He noticed that Avery’s knuckles were bruised. James only acknowledged this in his periphery, as his eyes were drawn to the two people who appeared to be struggling with each other.

Sirius had Regulus in a headlock, but Sirius seemed to have taken a beating as well. A black eye was forming and he had a cut in his lip. Regulus looked equally ruffled, a large bruise blossoming on his cheek.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jamed asked.

“I tried to stop Sirius coming up here,” Marlene said. She had followed James up. “I told him you’d said to stay away from Regulus, but he wasn’t having it.”

“They’re fucking beating him up James,” Sirius growled. “He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“He kidnapped you!” Regulus countered.

“They killed our people,” said Avery. “We need to know what we’re up against. We need information!”

“Okay, that is enough!” James held his hands up. “We’re not fucking animals guys. We’re not torturing information out of him!”

The Grounder was glaring at James so intently that he felt like he might shrivel up and die. If looks could kill, this man would have them all on their backs. James swallowed thickly.

“They’d do it to us!” Avery protested.

“No they wouldn’t,” Sirius insisted. “He healed me guys, saved me! If they don’t hate us already, which I don’t think they do- then torturing him for information will only start a fucking war!”

“They started this!” Regulus growled. Sirius still had him in a healock and didn’t look willing to let go anytime soon. Regulus was struggling, though, and putting up a decent enough fight that Sirius’ muscles were locked and rippling.

James pressed a finger to the spot between his eyebrows and tried to rub away the tension headache that was brewing there.

“If Sirius lets you go Regulus, will you attack the Grounder?” James asked, forcing his breathing to come out in calm, steady motions. 

“No,” Regulus grumbled.

“Let him go Sirius,” James said. With a reluctant grumble, Sirius did as James asked. Both brothers glared at eachother, breathing heavily.

“I don’t even think he speaks English,” Sirius offered. “He won’t even understand the questions you were asking him.”

James evaluated the Grounder. His eyes were now darting back and forth, following the conversation around the room. 

“I think he understands,” James muttered. 

“What?” Avery demanded, staring at James.

The Grounder’s eyes narrowed, and he glared at James so intensely that James worried for a second that he might pass out under the glare.

“Just his eyes,” James said. “I think he understands.”

“Then we can get answers out of him!” Avery insisted. 

“Absolutley not.” James stated. “Like I said, we’re not torturing him. If they didn’t hate us before, they would if we did that.”

Avery frowned.

“How’s Barty?” Regulus demanded. His dark green eyes were narrowed, his gaze was almost as intense as the Grounder’s.

“Alive,” James affirmed. “I mean it, guys. We are not torturing him. His people will care. If they figure out where he is… what happens when they do? What if they come looking for him-”

“We’re not letting him go!” Regulus snapped. “No one knows we took him, we didn’t see anyone the whole way back.”

Avery strode over to James and thrust a small book into his hands.

“What’s this?” James demanded.

“His book, just look at it,” Avery stated.

Frowning, James rifled through the book. What he saw were drawings. Hundreds of them. Drawings of the camp, of the people in it. He spotted one particular drawing of himself with the word ‘Heda?’ etched under it.

“They’re watching us,” Avery said. “Scouting us out. We need to know what he knows and what he’s told them.”

“I know it might offend your delicate sensibilities Potter, but we’re fighting a war,” Regulus said. “We’re at war with them.”

James could have flinched back from those words. He didn’t. He held his ground, staring at the very detailed drawing of the camp on the first page of the book.

If this was a war…

Then somehow, James had found himself as the commander. He didn’t like it. He didn’t want it. All of the people downstairs waited for him. Looked to him for advice. It was stifling. 

But, he supposed, if he was a commander, he would do it right.

“Sirius, get the fuck out of here. I can’t trust you alone with him at the moment.” James gestured to Regulus, who’s glare only intensified at this.

“We can’t leave these two idiots up here alone with him!” Sirius protested. “They’ll start fucking torturing him!”

James heaved a heavy sigh and reached into the waistband of his jeans, pulling out the gun and handing it to Marlene. “Marls, you stay. If Black or Avery try anything, shoot them in the fucking legs.”

Chapter Text

J A M E S

Barty was seizing by the time James got back to him. Evan was hysterical.

“He was fine, and then one second-”

“Evan, get my mother on the radio now!” James snapped. 

Barty’s whole body was shaking, and James rolled him onto his side again just as Barty started to vomit.

“I can’t!” Evan almost wailed. “The radio went dead right after you left. The storm’s interfering with it.”

“What can we do?” James asked.

“Nothing,” Evan shrugged helplessly. “We have to wait for the storm to pass.”

“Fuck!” James yelled.

“James, what’s happening?” James hadn’t registered that Sirius had followed him down, but he stood at the foot of the ladder now, eyes wide, staring at them.

Barty was foaming at the mouth, but the seizing had stopped.

“Did the knife hit something?” Evan demanded. “Effie said he should be fine.”

“He’s still burning up,” James managed. “If the knife hit something, he’d be coughing up blood. No, this is something else. I did everything my mother told me to do-”

James’ very tired brain ran at a thousand miles an hour, running through every procedure he had ever done with his mother. Anything that could look like this.

“Siezing, shortness of breath, fever, stab wound,” James muttered as he examined the wound. And there- the veins around the wound were a funny green colour. Just light enough that a person wouldn’t notice it unless they were looking very hard.

“It’s poison,” James realised with a jolt. “The fucking knife had poison on it.”

And no.

James absolutely refused to lose anyone else. 

Barty wouldn’t die.

James wouldn’t let him

Getting whiplash from how fast everything was going, James grabbed the blade and examined it. 

“James-?” Sirius started.

And James wanted to be better. He needed to be better.

But the only thing he could think at that moment was that the man tied up upstairs had poisoned one of his people. James was a healer and that man up there knew how he could heal Barty. Probably had the antidote on him if James was lucky.

“Sirius, stay down here,” James snapped, making towards the ladder.

“James what-?”

“I said stay the fuck down here!” James commanded, wincing very slightly at the sound of his own voice.

“James, what are you doing?” Sirius demanded.

James swallowed. Sirius had fixed him with those intense grey eyes that had always seemed to see straight through him, down into his actual soul. Sirius had always been able to turn James inside out. James had never quite hated that his best friend had that ability until that moment.

Sirius’ eyes widened, and James knew that Sirius could tell what he was going to do. James would do whatever it took to save someone’s life. James knew that Sirius knew this about him.

Sirius stepped very deliberately in front of the ladder.

“Sirius move,” James grunted through gritted teeth. 

“Take a second-”

“No Sirius, we don’t have a second. I won’t do anything if he just fucking tells me how to fix Barty.” James promised.

“James you can’t-”

“I don’t want to!” James bellowed. “I don’t want to, but I fucking will if that’s what it takes to keep Barty alive. Now move out of my way Sirius, or I’ll make you.”

James and Sirius had made a promise to each other a long time ago. It had been after a fight, just after Sirius’ parents were floated. James had yelled and Sirius had flinched. 

James had sat his best friend down and promised that no matter how angry he was at him, James would never lay a hand on Sirius to hurt him. Sirius knew this. James could tell that Sirius also knew James’ resolve was being tested here. Sirius could tell how close to snapping James had been for the last week, how close to teetering off of a precipice of anger and fear he was. 

Maybe that was why Sirius stepped aside and let James pass. But James knew that it was definitely why Sirius followed him.

James felt better knowing Sirius was there to ground him, but he also felt awful at the prospect of Sirius bearing witness to this horrible anger that was coursing through him. 

He emerged from the top of the ladder into the room where the Grounder still stood, bound and bloodied. James knew that he would probably go too far, let his anger get the best of him. But he also knew that Sirius would stop him. Be his fucking moral compass or whatever. At the same time, James absolutely did not want a moral compass. He wanted to save Barty.

In that moment, James didn’t really care. He was all simmering rage. But Sirius always cared. That was why James loved him. Sirius cared about people. Especially about people who had no power. Always one to root for the underdog.

James glared at the Grounder and strode across the room to him, holding the dagger up in front of the man’s face. The man glared at him, lips pressed tightly together. There was a scar on his face, and his sandy hair was plastered to his forehead with dried blood. He was tall- taller than James, so James had to look up at the man.

James didn’t think he was the least bit intimidating.

“What was on this blade?” James asked. He surprised himself by how even his voice came out. 

“What are you talking about, Potter?” Regulus asked. He had been leaning up against the opposite wall but pushed off of it to stand in James’ view.

“He poisoned the knife,” James said, eyes not wavering from the Grounder’s face. “He knew Barty was going to die no matter what I did - WHAT IS IT?” James’ anger suddenly burst forth from him, and he bellowed the last part into the man’s face, shaking the knife in the air.

The Grounder didn’t flinch. He didn’t even react, just glared back at James. His eyes were a shade of green, so pale that it almost looked blue.

“Is there an antidote?” James demanded, chest heaving. 

The Grounder said nothing. James wanted to hit him. The thought sickened him. 

“What if he doesn’t understand?” Avery demanded. He too had approached. “There were some vials in his coat-?”

“Let me see them!” James tore his eyes away from the Grounder. Avery shoved a little pouch into James’ hands. He opened it up and found what he could only assume was a crude medical kit. There were six vials in there. The knife in James’ hand clattered to the ground as he turned back to look at the Grounder.

“You’d be stupid to keep a poison around and not have an antidote on hand. I know it’s one of these; which one is it?” James demanded. “Which one?” He held the kit out for the Grounder to see. The man refused to even look at it, eyes fixed on James’ face unwaveringly.

“Answer the question!” Avery bellowed.

The tension in the room was so high that it made James want to throw up. But he couldn’t, he had to fix Barty. This man was the only person who knew how, and he wasn’t helping. James wanted to hit him.

“If you tell me we won’t hurt you,” James insisted. “We don’t want to hurt you, I swear.” James just wanted this man to help him. He needed this man to help him save Barty. The man wasn’t helping, and it made James shake with rage.

“Show us.” Sirius was at James’ shoulder. The Grounder’s eyes finally flicked away from James and rested on Sirius. James saw a flicker of something cross the man’s face. “Please?” Sirius prompted. 

“Our friend is dying, and you can stop it. We just want to save him.” James flexed his fingers, trying to ground himself in the moment. He felt separate, like everything was happening around him and he was just watching.

“I’ll get him to talk,” Regulus said.

“Fuck, no Reggie. James said no torture!” Sirius protested.

“What if he’s changed his mind?” Regulus said, his voice was cold. So cold that it made James shudder.

James’ eyes locked with Regulus’. James saw in Regulus eyes that he too wanted to save Barty more than anything. Regulus would do what it took to get the antidote. 

James wanted to be stong enough to do whatever it took.

“Potter, do you want to save Barty or not?” Regulus asked. James felt those words puncture his soul. They hit deep in his chest and he felt his resolve begin to weaken. Was there no other way? James couldn’t see one. He felt like a spectator to some horrible old movie where the stakes were too high and the demands impossible.

James wanted Barty to live.

James couldn’t let Barty die.

James didn’t think he’d survive anyone else dying becayse he wasn’t good enough to save them. His’ eyes flicked to Sirius’ face. His best friend was staring at him with a look of incredulous disbelief written all over his features. 

“You’re considering it?” Sirius asked in a small voice. 

James could feel his best friend’s heart breaking. “Give me another option Sirius? Tell me what to do.” 

Sirius would know another way. He would help right? Sirius was unshakeable he always knew what to do. 

Sirius held James’ gaze for a long time, before his eyes suddenly dropped. James swallowed thickly, feeling as if his throat was closing up. Sirius couldn’t see another way either. He just couldn’t do it. Sirius would rather let Barty die than hurt this unknown Grounder. 

A part of James that wished he wasn’t a healer, that he didn’t have to save everyone, wished that he had the option of a moral compass in that moment. It took an immeasurable about of strength for him to tear his eyes away from Sirius and look at Regulus instead.

The younger boy was staring right at James. As if waiting for James’ go ahead. A coiled spring, ready to rocket as soon as James gave the word.

“Do it,” James said, eyes not wavering from Regulus’ face.

“No!” Sirius shouted. “James, this isn’t who we are! He saved my life!”

“We’re talking about Barty’s life now, Sirius,” Regulus spat. “This isn’t about you.”

“Do it,” James said again, not looking at Sirius. James knew the second he met his best friend’s eyes that he wouldn’t have the strength to stand aside and let this happen. And he needed to let this happen. To save Barty.

To his credit, Regulus didn’t smile. He set his jaw and strode across the room to grab a blade. James closed his eyes.

“Reggie no!” Sirius yelled. “James, don't let him do this! We’re not bad people James!” James could hear that Sirius was struggling, but someone - James suspected it was Avery - was restraining Sirius.

James forced his eyes open.

“Just tell them which one!” Sirius pleaded with the Grounder, who remained impassive. “Just tell them which one and they’ll stop!”

Regulus was back. He had a blade in his hand.

James swallowed back vomit in his throat.

“Which one?” Regulus asked, gesturing to the phials still in James’ hands.

The Grounder said nothing.

Regulus cut the Grounder’s chest in a fine line from one shoulder down to where his heart would be.

The Grounder didn’t react.

“Which one?” Regulus asked again.

The Grounder said nothing.

Sirius howled. Hurling abuse at James and Regulus. James couldn’t really hear it. There was a strange buzzing in his ears which was overtaking everything. James felt seconds away from throwing up as Regulus punched the Grounder in the face with the blade still in his hand. The edge of it cut the Grounder’s cheek.

“Which one?” James asked. His voice came out small. “Please?”

The Grounder said nothing. 

“He doesn’t need fingers?” Regulus suggested. 

James was very certain he would be sick any second. He collapsed to the floor infront of the Grounder and spread the vials out infront of him.

“Please, just tell us?” James asked. He swallowed back the tears that were threatening to spill out of him. He couldn’t cry. He wouldn’t cry. His hands where shaking as he gestured at the vials.

The Grounder said nothing. Regulus cut him again and asked. And again and asked. The man’s chest and face became a bloody mess.

“It’s not fucking working,” Avery spat.

At some point, Marlene had pressed the gun back into James’ hand and scurried out of the room, mumbling something about feeling sick. James didn’t blame her. He would leave too, if he could.

Regulus abandoned the blade and found a blunt tool, holding it in his hand. James noticed that Regulus’ hands were shaking almost as badly as his own where. Regulus punched the man with the tool, right in the chest. A breath punched out of the Grounder, but other than that he didn’t react.

Tears were shining in James’ eyes as Regulus turned back to him.

“JAMES HE’S GETTING WORSE!” Evan bellowed from below.

“You don’t have to be here for this,” Regulus said. His eyes were shining with something that James couldn’t hope to decipher.

“Yes I do,” James managed. “Which one is it?”

The Grounder said nothing.

Regulus punched him in the face with the blunt object.

Sirius howled again, straining against Avery.

“James stop him!” Sirius begged. “Please, this isn’t us!”

James couldn’t look at Sirius. This man had to tell them which one would save Barty. This was the only way James could see. James felt seconds from throwing up. James wanted nothing more than to stop this. He wanted someone else to stop it. He wanted his mum, who would know exactly what to do. He wanted someone else to take charge. He wanted everyone to stop looking at him and waiting for him to make a decision. He wanted to not give a shit if Barty lived, or if this Grounder was being hurt. James wished he had the ability to feel none of it.

“What the fuck is going on up here?” Evan emerged at the top of the ladder and took in the scene. James on his knees infront of the Grounder. Regulus with bloody hands. Avery still restraining Sirius.

“Barty, stopped breathing,” Evan said when his eyes rested on James.

“WHAT?” James jumped to his feet and made towards the ladder.

Evan stoped him. “He started again, but next time, he might not. What’s taking so long?”

James gestured helplessly at the Grounder. “He won’t tell us which is the antidote.”

“Use them all?” Evan suggested.

“What if one is the poison?” James asked.

Evan glanced around and seemed to understand what was going on. With his jaw set, he strode over to the wall and ripped out some wires. They sparked as they were torn free, sending a cascade of sparks across the room, towards the Grounder. The man flinched away, suddenly looking terrified.

“What are you doing?” Regulus demanded.

“Showing him something new,” Evan stated, before he pressed both ends of the two wires he was holding to the man’s chest. It was just for a few seconds, but it was long enough that the man’s whole body lurched and twitched.

“Which one is it?” Evan demanded. When the man didn’t respond, Evan pressed the bare ends of the wires to him again. Evan was sobbing, sounding slightly crazed. He screamed at the man as he electrocuted him. “He’s all I have! Just fucking tell us which one will save him! You’re letting him die!”

And then something happened. 

Well, Sirius happened.

He lurched forward, taking Avery by surprise. Once he was free, Sirius grabbed the Grounder’s dagger which lay forgotten on the ground where James had dropped it. Before James could stop him, Sirius cut a line from his bicep to his wrist with the poisoned dagger. 

The Grounder inhaled sharply and started forwards.

Sirius’ gaze was even when he looked up, and James really, really felt like he was going to be sick. This was a sick joke. James wanted everything to stop. None of this could be real. 

“He won’t let me die,” Sirius said, voice calm, quite the opposite of the gutteral screams he had been letting out just a few moments earlier.

Sirius scrambled forward and no one stopped him. The air was so thick that James felt like he might choke on it. James couldn’t move; he could only watch.

“Which one?” Sirius asked, using the dagger to point. “This one?”

Very slowly, the Grounder’s eyes travelled to the end of the line of vials. His head jerked. Sirius seemed to understand as he picked up the phial on the very end and held it out.

“This one?” He asked again.

The Grounder’s head jerked in what could be construed as a nod.

“There,” Sirius scrambled back to his feet and thrust the vial into James’ hands. “Go fucking save him.”

James let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. His breathing sounded ragged and frayed to his own ears. 

“Sirius I-”

“There’s no fucking time for that,” Sirius staed. His words were like ice, and he absolutely refused to meet James’ eyes. “Go save Barty.”

And without a second thought. James did. Because that’s what James Potter did. Even when he was breaking, he saved other people first. James would never be the person to put his own oxygen mask on first.

James went onto autopilot and let his body do what it needed to do. Once the antidote was down Barty’s throat, James sent Evan off to get some water. 

The second he was alone, he turned and threw up the entire contents of his stomach into a bucket.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pressing his hands to his head.

“James, can you hear me?” The radio in the corner was still turned all the way up, and Euphemia’s voice came through very clear. Clearer than it had been earlier.

“Mum?” James whimpered.

“Oh thank god,” Euphemia said, palpable relief evident in her voice. “The storm looks to have passed. Are you okay? Is Barty?”

James swallowed thickly, pressing his fingers into his eyes, trying to rid himself of what he had just witnessed. “I think he’ll be alright.”

And yes, there was that. At least no one else had died today. James may have done something despicable, but Sirius had known just what to do. He always did. Sirius always did the right thing.

James wished he knew how to do the right thing. 

“That’s thanks to you, James,” Euphemia said. James could hear the smile in her voice and it made him want to be sick again. “I’m proud of you. Your father would be too.”

And that? Well, that just made the whole thing a million times worse. James’ father had given his life trying to be a good honest person. Trying to protect everyone. And James? Well, James had just sat back and allowed a man to be tortured.

“I don’t know who I am anymore, Mum,” James whispered. He wondered if she’d still be able to hear him despite how quietly he was speaking. He wished she was here. He wished she could wrap him in her arms and hold him. His hands were shaking as he ran them over his face.

“I don’t think I’m a good person anymore, Sirius.”

“Me either mate.”

“I’m not sure I know what good is anymore.”

“Maybe there are no good people?” 

“My dad was good.”

“Yeah he was.”

James wondered what Sirius would say if he tried to have that conversation with him now. Probably spit in his face. He’d deserve it.

“Well then, I’ll remind you who you are,” Euphemia’s voice came through again on the radio, calm and reassuring as it always was. “You’re my son. You’re good, you’re strong, and you’re unapologetically yourself. That’s all you can be James.”

And then James was crying. Wet, hot tears were running down his face like a tap had been turned on.

That was how Peter found him, curled in on himself in the middle of the room, hands pressed to his face, sobbing uncontrollably as Euphemia begged him to talk to her via the radio.

James felt Peter’s arms close around him before he realised Peter was there and started slightly.

“Hey,” Peter mumbled into James’ back as he held him from behind.

James couldn’t say anything; he just cried. He knew he should move. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything but cry.

“It’s okay James,” Peter said soothingly as he rubbed James’ back. “Just breathe for me, okay?”

James didn’t feel worthy of breathing anymore. But he did as Peter suggested, matching his breaths to those of the other boy. James knew he had things to do. He had to make sure that Sirius got the antidote too, try his best to right his own wrongs and patch up the Grounder. There was always so much to do. 

“Marlene told us what happened,” Peter mumbled.

“How can you look at me?” James asked. His voice was hardly a whisper.

“We all do bad things James,” Peter said. “Doesn’t make us bad people.”

And coming from anyone else, that may not have hit home for James. But Peter had killed his father. Practically pressed the button to float Fleamont Potter himself. Peter had done bad things. Bad things, specifically to James. 

James hadn’t understood it until that moment. Why Peter had done what he did. He’d been desperate. Desperate in the same way James had been when he’d allowed Regulus to torture that man upstairs. There, on the floor, with dried tears on his face and blood on his hands, James finally began to forgive Peter Pettigrew.

*

Someone had moved the Grounder so that he was no longer forced to stand. James suspected that it was because his injuries had likely led the man to collapse.

James worked silently on the injuries, cleaning the knife slashes on his chest and slowly starting to stitch the deeper ones together. Than man didn’t react, just sat against the wall and stared at James with those piercing pale eyes.

“I’m sorry,” James said quietly. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I had to save my friend.”

James didn’t know why he was speaking to the man. He wasn’t even certain that the man could understand English.

Someone climbed up the ladder, and James froze when he saw Sirius’ mop of dark curls appear. The two best friends regarded each other for a second before Sirius pulled himself fully into the room and slowly approached. He sat down next to James, careful to avoid brushing his shoulder as he reached for a cloth and started to clean the Grounder’s face.

“Sirius,” James whispered.

“James,” Sirius replied.

There was so much to say. Too much. James didn’t know how to word it. He struggled for the words, finding them catching on his tongue every time he tried to start speaking.

“I expected it from Reg,” Sirius said eventually, eyes fixed on the Grounder. “But not from you.”

“I’m sorry,” James whispered, feeling like it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough. “I just- I had to save Barty.”

“Just for the record,” Sirius said, his tone icy, “I saved Barty. Not you. And I thought I’d told you, James, you can’t save everyone. Not if it makes you a monster.”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Not that,” Sirius replied. “Never that James.”

“I know,” James said. “Never again. I swear Sirius. You’re right, we’re better than that. It was horrible, I hated every second of it. If I could go back and do it differently…” he trailed off, words failing him.

Sirius finally turned to look at him. “I’m not forgiving you,” Sirius stated.

“You shouldn’t,” said James. “It was unforgivable.”

“I’m not forgiving you,” Sirius repeated. “Not yet, anyway. Give me a minute? But I understand. You’re good James, too good. You always want to save everyone who you consider yours. But please don’t make yourself into something you’re not. For me?”

James heaved a heavy breath. It wasn’t forgiveness, far from it. But it felt like acceptance. 

Sirius was like James’ other half. It was impossible for them to remain mad at each other; it always had been. James didn’t want to start now. Here Sirius was offering an olive branch. Not forgiveness, but a second chance. A chance to try to be better, together.

“Yes,” James said. “Of course.”

*

“James!” James halted immediately when Regulus approached him. They were outside now, starting to clean up the mess that the storm had left in the camp.

“Regulus,” James replied. Regulus had cleaned himself up. If James hadn’t been present for the whole thing, he would have no idea that Regulus had tortured a man earlier that day. Apart from the blossoming bruise on his face from Sirius’ fist and the fact that his clothes were still dirty, as no amount of scrubbing seemed to be able to rid fabric of the mud, he looked just the same as the first day on the ground.

“You okay?” Regulus asked, stopping in front of James. “You looked a little green in there.”

James’ mouth fell open. “What? Of course, I looked a little green, we were torturing a man.”

Regulus shrugged as if it didn’t bother him. “Just checking on you.”

“You really are a fucking psyco,” James said, taking a step back. Just like that, he was reminded how much he disliked the younger boy. Not so much that he didn’t like Regulus; it was more that James hated the things Regulus was willing to do and the fact that he had the power to push James to do the same things. 

Regulus spoke with so much reason about completely unreasonable things. It made James’ head hurt. It made James want to help the younger boy justify his unjustifiable actions. James was terrified that he would probably do anything if it was Regulus suggesting it. 

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Think whatever you want, but you were there too, Potter. The people we are and who we have to be to survive are very different things.”

“We’re not doing that again,” James stated. “Never.”

“Fine, whatever you want,” Regulus said with a shrug. “But we can’t let him go. The Grounder, I mean. He’ll just come back with others. We can’t risk it.” James didn’t like how cavalier Regulus sounded about all of this. It sent a shudder down his spine.

But in this case, James knew that Regulus was right. It didn’t mean that he liked it at all.

“You were good in there,” Regulus continued. “You did what needed to be done. It’s hard being in charge but… well, you’re good at it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” James demanded. Regulus’ words felt like they were knives. James hated it, hated this boy and his ability to lay James bare and expose his secrets to the world.

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” Regulus said. “Didn’t think you’d have the stomach for it. But you’re a good leader. Heavy lies the head that bears the crown and all that shit. We need you.”

“We?” James repeated.

“Yes, we,” Regulus nodded. James blinked at him. He wished he had Regulus’ ability to see through people so that he could stand a chance of understanding what was going on inside Regulus’ mind.

“What is this Regulus? What do you want?” James asked.

The younger boy swallowed and caught his lower lip between his teeth and - Well, honestly, James was kind of obsessed with it. The way Regulus’ face looked when he was searching for what to say. His eyes scrunched up at the corners a bit, and his brow furrowed. James found that he liked leaving Regulus lost for words. It was a wonderful kind of victory.

“I just wanted to say that I’m with you,” Regulus said. “I think we make a good team. We saved Sirius and Barty today. We’re good at keeping people alive.”

“I don’t really give a shit what you think of me,” James said, like a liar. He absolutely cared what everyone in the world though of him. He was a good person, he wanted everyone to see that. Regulus seemed to have the horrible ability to draw forward the worst parts of James, and he hated it. “We crossed a line today, Regulus.”

“I’ll cross any line I have to. We need to keep them alive,” Regulus responded quickly. His gaze was intense, and James felt like it had him pinned down, unable to move. “I don’t give a shit about most of the people in this camp,” Regulus admitted. “Or anyone on the Elder. I just care about keeping my brother and Barty alive. I’ll do whatever we need to do for that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m saying that if we need to work together, we’ll do it,” Regulus said. “I’ve got no plans of going rogue again. Mulciber is dead, everyone’s looking to you to lead them. I think I can help. But- well… if Sirius is in danger, or Barty for that fact, just don’t try and stop me from doing what I need to do, okay?”

James blinked.

“Okay?” Regulus prompted.

“Um, yeah,” James frowned. “Yeah, okay.”

Chapter Text

E U P H E M I A

“Stealing medical supplies, unsanctioned salvage attempts, assisting in an unapproved shuttle launch and hijacking the communication center,” Alastor rattled off. “What defence can you have for all of this Effie?”

“I was doing what needed to be done,” Euphemia stood before the council with her head held high. They were all here, Alastor Moody, Hestia Jones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Eliphias Doge and Rita Skeeter along with Bartemius Crouch. The seventh seat at the table which had belonged to Euphemia for years sat empty.

“It is my role as Chancellor to ensure that mankind survives,” Bartemius said with a deep sigh. “And whilst your crimes are - “

There was a strange interference noise from the intercom system ,which momentarily drew everyone’s attention to the speakers overhead. It stopped fairly quickly.

Bartemius cleared his throat, “As I was saying-”

The noise happened again.

“Kingsley, is there a fault with the communications system?” Bartemius asked.

“Not that I know of Sir, I can check on it?” Kingsley asked.

“After this meeting,” Bartemius nodded. “Anyway, Euphemia, we are at a crisis point, as I’m sure you are aware. We need your medical expertise and that is the only reason your crimes will be excused. You will not regain your council seat, however-”

“Calling Elder Station. I am transmitting from the ground with the 100. Please respond!” The intercom buzzed with static throughout the words, but the council chambers fell completely silent, listening with bated breath. 

“[-] he’s seizing!” Another voice came through on the radio, a girl’s. It seemed a bit farther away than the first voice, but panic was clear in the words. 

This was followed by more static buzzing in waves.

Euphemia was moving before anymore words could come through. The communications center was next door to the council chambers, but even in the corridor she could still hear the radio, which was likely being broadcasted across the entire ship.

“Calling Elder station, this is Evan Rosier-”

“This is a restricted channel, where are you calling from,” Frank Longbottom asked as Euphemia burst into the communications center, followed by the rest of the council.

“Get that off of the ship-wide channel!” Alastor bellowed the moment that he entered the room.

“Yes Sir!” Frank barked back, tapping some buttons on the console.