A sad one-shot about the only times Regulus Black has ever cried. I know that Sirius is meant to hate him and all but I kind of changed it. I really feel they love each other deep down, especially Regulus :) Oh and also I'm changing it so that Regulus was there when Sirius died I must warn you this is probably the weirdest one-shot you will ever read but I was inspired lol.

Please review, it means the world to me :)

Disclaimer-As if I would be writing on here if I owned it ;)

Cry

Leaving

I stand, with my back pressed against the cold, hard stone wall, listening to the sound of my brother dying.

His screams resound in my head; the mixture of insults and swearing. I've never felt pain like this before. The few times my parents have used the cruciatus curse on me, the most painful thing you can imagine, the very one that had me begging for death, although my father just said I was weak, it was nothing. Absolutely nothing compared to the pain I'm enduring now. I want to run in there. With every fibre of my being, every piece of my soul, I long to run in there and throw every curse, every hex I know at the people I call my parents.

But I can't...because he knew.

He knew this is what would happen and he tried to protect me. Stupid Gryffindor prince! Stupid, idiotic Gryffindor courage! He knew what they would do and he made me do an unbreakable vow with him, swearing that I would not try and help him. I clutch my wand tighter, until my knuckles turn white, as I hear my mother's cruel laugh and my father's sigh of contentment upon my brother passing out. I can barely hear them jeering at him to get up, all I can hear is the pounding in my ears. The blood roaring about, thundering, but then all is quiet. I think I might have gone deaf. It's peaceful though, much easier than hearing; because hearing means pain.

But now its back; the tortured screams of agony. The tears are now flowing freely down my face and I kneel over, clutching my stomach in pain, which has become excruciating. I clamp down on my lip to stop from screaming out and can taste the blood I've produced. How many seconds/minutes/hours have passed, I have no idea, as I fight unconsciousness. Crumpled into the foetus position, I strain my ears for any sound he's even alive. I hear them slam a door somewhere in the house and struggle to my feet. My wand outstretched-the only light in this imprisonment-I stagger to the door, trying to blink back the tears that are blinding my vision.

"Sirius?" I cry into the darkness. I hear a soft whimper and rush forward, falling to the floor beside my brother. I fumble with my wand, my hand shaking badly as if attempt to heal some of his many injuries. "Reg, help me up." He orders, hissing in pain as he attempts to sit up. I stash my wand in my pocket and gently put my arm around my brother's waist, trying to hide the tears that are soaking my shirt, much like my brother's blood. We somehow manage to get upstairs to his room without being detected. I lower him onto his bed and he closes his eyes briefly, but when he opens them I wish he hadn't.

"Regulus." He says, trying to keep his voice steady. I can see it in his eyes; I know what he's going to do.

"No, no!" I slide down the wall, hiding my head in my hands and he just sits there regarding me with those eyes.

"I have to leave Regulus, I can't stay any longer. But you, you can be the person I never could be! You could make them proud, live up to your pureblood status." He murmurs quickly, shooting anxious looks at the door every few seconds. I wonder briefly if he had multi personality disorder; here my brother who despises, absolutely loathes, anything to do with the pureblood world we live in, is encouraging me to live my life this way.

"You know I don't want that." I spit viciously, "You know I can't live like that. I thought we were brothers, you can't abandon me."

"I have to Reg," He almost growls, slipping off his bed and crawling over to me. I can feel his arm settling on my shoulder, and the blood seeping through my clothes even more. I look up, into his identical orbs, seeing remorse, and clutch his hand tightly. "No, you don't. You could take me with you."

"I'll come back to get you Reg, I swear."

The last time I see him is as I crawl to my window sobbing. He's floating in mid air on his broomstick, I throw open the window, opening my mouth to say something, anything.

"Goodbye little brother." He sweeps away into the night, his black robes billowing out behind him, without another glance, leaving my screams of desolation behind.

That night I cried myself to sleep, staying in my brother's bed. After that night though, I waited every night, until the darkness started to fade into light, convinced he would come back. Every time he didn't another piece of my heart shattered, never to be found again. But that didn't stop me; I waited, endlessly, in his bedroom, for him. He had sworn he would come back. He had to.

It took me a month to finally realise he wasn't coming back. The night I realised, I tried to kill myself.

I couldn't take it anymore; I didn't want to take it anymore. Needless to say it didn't work. So in my desperation I thought about turning myself in to Voldemort and begging to be murdered, my parents always said he was a merciful man. Either that or offending a Deatheater, whatever worked. The thing was, I didn't want to live anymore-without him I had nothing, I was nothing.

Deatheater

"Regulus!" My father boomed, his voice echoing in every corner of our dark, ominous, sinister house. I swiftly jump up, closing my bedroom door securely and run down the stairs. I flick an invisible speck of dust off my robes and walked into the dining room. Seated around the old oak table are my parents, my aunt and uncle, a Deatheater I recognise as Goyle's father and a select few whose features were covered by shadow. I look around warily until I catch the gaze of my mother; she gestures to sit down, her expression as sober as always. Cautiously I take the seat on my mother's right, my gaze sweeping the table.

"Regulus, it's time." My father said, his face cracking into a smile, something so unfamiliar, so unusual it shocked me to the core. There was only one thing that would make my father this happy; my becoming a deatheater.

I stumbled up to my room, finally having escaped my parents, my wrist burning. The newly etched mark on my wrist felt like it was ablaze, I clutched at it, trying desperately to claw it off. I shut my door behind me, sinking to the ground, attempting to block out the memories of the ceremony, of him; the Dark Lord. I could picture his empty, soulless face perfectly, although I had only seen it once. It was a face I knew would forever be engraved in my mind, to torment me always. A tear slid down my cheek and I rubbed it away fiercely. Save me.

Here in the confinements of my bedroom I can finally admit it; I'm petrified, chilled to the very core at the thought of what I had just been committed to. But really, I didn't have any choice. It was the only way to survive here and father had said he was proud. Looking into my eyes, right before we had gone, he had told me. Never before had he told me he was proud of me, this was something that should greatly please me, instead it repulses me. What kind of a monster hands his child over to a cold-blooded murderer? Mother, mother had not said anything to me. No words of comfort were offered as I writhed in pain; both mentally and physically. As he laughed; the cruel, cold sound making me so absolutely horrified that I thought my heart had stopped beating. The only comfort I could possible grasp was that when I, caught the gaze of my mother, I could see the fear as transparent in her orbs as it was in mine. But even she turned away from me, hiding her fear with a proud, cold, smile. The only thing that brought me through that whole ordeal was picturing my brother; laughing and grinning, chasing me around the grounds on his broomstick, the wind rushing through our hair. His smile as he tackled me in the air, both of us crashing to the ground in a pile of limbs.

I pulled out a piece of parchment, grabbing a pen and scribbling furiously, my tears staining the page. I looked up, stifling a howl, and screwed up the piece of paper, throwing it into the burning flames. I watched as the flames engulfed the paper, shrivelling it up until all I could read was, Help me.

I walked down the desolate corridors that I had come to know as my home. The shadows seemed almost reassuring, as I passed through them, massaging the mark on my arm which was throbbing painfully.

A tanned arm whipped out of the darkness, grabbing my forearm and yanking me into the shadows. I looked up into the shielded grey orbs that I had once longed for. "So it's true." He growled, ripping my sleeve up my arm revealing the permanent etching that was the dark mark. He hand fell away from my arm at once, almost as if he had been burnt, and he let out a hiss. I refused to say anything as his dangerous orbs bore into mine. He started to turn away, disgusted.

"Wait!" I called, spinning him round with an anxious look as I pulled us deeper into the shadows. His gaze met his down, staring him down, "You never came back." I accused, hiding the pain well in the perfectly composed mask I had mastered.

"You didn't need me, you're better off without my traitorous blood." He spat and I felt my eyes narrow into slits.

"I didn't need you!? I waited for weeks for you to come back like you promised! I became, this," I yanked my sleeve up viciously, bursting a button, to show my dark mark, "Because you didn't bother to come back for me, because you didn't care enough to stop them!" To my horror, I felt the tears well up as I let my mask slip for a fraction of a second.

"Regulus!" He pulled down my sleeve, his eyes darting uneasily around. "I have to go," He muttered and I felt anger swell up inside my chest, rising up my throat until I thought it was going to burst out of my mouth.

"Go then, see if I care," I whispered harshly, "Back to your blood traitors and mudbloods. Back where you belong." I could see pure rage fill his features and for a second I was worried, but he flew around and stalked around the corner before I could shout after him.

I sank to the floor, welcoming the shadows, as the impact of my words caught up with me. Dread filled every inch of my body, as tears started pouring down my face, slowing first and then thicker until I could barely breath, my breath coming out in short gasps.

Dying

Panic soared through my veins, coating ever sense, until I could no longer feel anything. We were going to fight them, the Order of the Phoenix.

Sirius.

I felt bile come to my throat at the sick, excited expressions of their faces. I would never be one of them, not while my heart still yearned for my brother. I tried to stop it, ever since that fateful day, I tried to work things out. But he stayed with them, the Marauders, and was the most popular boy in school. Every time I met him in the corridor, harsh words were exchanged and spells cast. I would stop him occasionally glancing at me, and my heart would swell, only to be crushed by his hate filled glare. I longed for the bond we had when we were young. I would have sold my soul for it-if it hadn't already been given to the dark lord.

I used to watch them, as I crouched behind the stone wall in the courtyard, mucking around, playing on their brooms, laughing, doing all the things we used to do. And I know I would give anything to have that life back, to feel that love again. Nobody here really cared for me. Not even my own cousin, especially not my cousin; she was a Slytherin Princess through and through. I could talk to no one for fear of being found out to be a traitor. I had no doubt my 'best friend' would sell me out if I so much as muttered a word against our kind. I could trust no one.

I remember when they died; Lily and James. His best friends. I could feel the agony radiating off him. I wanted to comfort him but he was inconsolable. I knew he would blame me, because I was one of them, and that was the only reason I hadn't gone to him. I had watched him, undetected, as he sobbed, shouted, screamed. I stared at him for hours as he looked through photo albums, looking into his tormented face. Every time I saw his soulless body, my heart broke a little more. He went from utter desolation to blind fury. And I was scared. He couldn't beat the dark lord, yet he would try. He wanted vengeance and he wouldn't stop until he had it.

"Now." He hissed, his eyes glittering with sick pleasure, breaking my train of thought with a wave of panic. We landed with a jolt and I drew my wand at the signal, sliding into the shadows to get to my position. I was to wait until they arrived; the Order of the Phoenix. I was to take out (...) clearly I was not trusted enough to take out a real dueller. But it didn't matter because I had a plan...

I could hear the faint shouts, the sound of glass smashing, the screams. They were coming and that meant he was coming. My hand tightened on my wand in apprehension. A flash of light rendered me blind for a moment and when I regained my sight he was there. His famous smirk curving his lips upwards as he dodged spells with ease. I waited in the shadows, ignoring my signal, praying for the right time to step in. Then I hear my cousin's cackle as she steps up to fight Sirius, his previous opponent lying on a heap on the floor. I could not hear what they were saying but from their sneers the words were obviously not heartfelt. Bellatrix was ruining my timing because they were being forced to duel so fast, I could not get a good aim on either. I watched in slow motion as Bellatrix shrieked the killing curse and a jet of green light filled my sight.

We locked eyes as he fell and he offered me one last lopsided grin before he disappeared from sight. I heard a heart wrenching scream. The sound pierced my ear drums, the cry of agony shattering my heart. It was only went I fell to the ground that I realised it was me.

My brother was gone.

I had lost.

That was the fourth, and last time, I, Regulus Black, cried. I vowed that day I would never let anyone cause me pain like he had. I would never shed any tears over anyone like I had over him. I wouldn't let myself be that vulnerable again. But I promised myself, when I saw him again, when we were finally together, nothing would ever keep us apart again. That vow was one I intended to keep. A plan already formulating in my mind as the dark lord appeared and I turned my hatred driven soul towards him...

Dun dun dun dun!

Haha lol, I hope you liked it :)

Tell me what you thought xx