After the revelation that came from Barty's last meeting with the Dark Lord, questions floated in his head for days. He wondered just how vocal Regulus had been with his doubts, had he voiced them to anybody or kept them bottled up the same way he kept his involvement hidden from everyone at school when he'd first joined the Death Eaters. He wondered what had triggered his change of heart. While extreme violence had never been something Regulus was comfortable with, he'd still admired the Dark Lord and believed in the cause. Did that change? There were plenty of other roles within the ranks that Regulus could have taken if the raids and duelling weren't something he was comfortable with.

Had he felt pressured to live up to Bellatrix's image, since they'd come from the same family? Had he witnessed her skill and ferocity and felt the need to mirror it all in the name of shared blood. They weren't the same, anybody who got to know either of them would be able to see the difference. Had Bellatrix herself put pressure on him, welcomed him into her small circle of Death Eaters, who mostly earned their way in through being family. They were high up in the hierarchy of Death Eaters, brutal and loyal. Had Regulus felt the need to try and be someone he wasn't due to the welcome they gave him?

There were so many questions, which Barty knew were most likely going to remain unanswered. He knew there was a slim chance of Regulus still being alive if the Dark Lord knew of his dissent. There was a possibility he'd run away and managed to remain undetected, if he was smart enough, but Barty doubted it, despite the part of him that wanted to cling hopefully to the chance.

He'd avoided everyone since he'd found out, wanting to keep them out of his head and allow him time to process. He felt hurt by the news Regulus had doubts. The Dark Lord was everything Barty never knew he needed, filled the hollow parts of himself that he thought he and Regulus had shared. He wanted to hope that Regulus was still out there, but couldn't imagine a way for him to fit back in his life if he had doubts, as being a Death Eater was fantastic for Barty. He felt confused and conflicted, desperate to figure out which side to take.

After a few days the questions were beginning to agitate him, and spying on his father was no longer distracting enough. He needed to get out of the house, to push all thoughts of Regulus from his mind, so he wasn't sure exactly why he decided to go to Lestrange manor, but it was the first place he wanted to be.

The house elf let him in, and he stepped into the foyer, looking and listening for signs of someone being home. Nobody appeared for a few minutes, so Barty sat down at the bottom of the stairs. Eventually he heard movement from upstairs, turning around to see Bellatrix making her way down. He immediately stood up.

"Morning," he said cheerfully.

"I hope you're not expecting much," she said as she reached the small landing where the L shaped staircase twisted. Barty took two steps backwards. "It's just me this morning, and I've got to go out in a bit."

"Oh, okay," Barty replied, sounding somewhat disappointed. As much as he admired Bellatrix's magical talent and leadership skills, she was the person that he enjoyed spending time alone with the least. As much as he didn't want to be, Barty was afraid of her, and he knew that he was only in her good graces so long as he didn't challenge her perceived position as second in command and most loyal Death Eater. Additionally, the fact that Rodolphus and Rabastan were out, most likely on official business, meant that she was not going to be in the best of moods.

"Do you want a cup of tea or something?" she asked, her tone flat and her courtesy sounding forced. Barty nodded, following her into the dining room where she shouted at the elf to get them a tray of tea.

She led him into the green lounge, which was their usual spot for socialising when Barty was over during the day. They both sat down on the big couch opposite the fireplace, the house elf brining their tea shortly after.

"So where are you off to later?" asked Barty, taking a sip of his too hot tea, flinching as it burned his tongue, and as he realized that Bellatrix may have considered that question too invasive. "If you don't mind me asking."

"I'm going over to my aunt's," she answered, blowing the rising steam off the top of her teacup. "It's the one year anniversary since my uncle died."

"Oh yeah," said Barty, suddenly remembering reading that Orion had passed not long after Regulus had gone missing. "I remember hearing about that in the Daily Prophet."

"We're all going over there to see how she is," said Bellatrix, sounding bored, like visiting her grieving aunt was a chore she'd rather not need to do. If they'd had this conversation within a few weeks of knowing each other, Barty would have found her tone strange and uncomfortable. He knew that she valued her family, and held family loyalty in very high esteem, but she sounded so unconcerned. However, he knew her well enough now that he had no delusions that she was the same as most people. She held a callous coldness that Barty had only seen rivalled in his father and the Dark Lord.

"I guess you could come with me if you like," she offered after a few minutes silence. "It's not like you're a stranger to my family."

"It's been a while since I've seen your aunt," said Barty, sighing slightly as he took a mouthful of tea. "I meant to go and see her after." He stopped. He couldn't bring himself to mention Regulus, not with all the information that was floating around in his head. "But I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"She wouldn't have been accepting of what you were to him, so it was probably best that you didn't," said Bellatrix, frowning at her cup. There was a subtle hint of anger in her voice, that Barty probably would have missed had he not known her long, or misattributed to one of her moods. But he remembered that her family had forced her onto a path she never wanted, despite making the best of the situation. Regulus never even got the chance to do that.

"You know, hearing him talk about you almost made me think twice about things I didn't believe existed," said Bellatrix, flashing Barty what could almost be described as a look of warmth. Barty smiled as he realized what she meant.

"Thanks," he said feebly, feeling heat flush to his cheeks and tightness in his chest. He thought about asking her 'why almost?', but knew that she probably thought Regulus was young and naive. He wondered if meeting him had made a difference.

"He's probably better off, not being forced into a life he didn't want," she said, making Barty immediately question whether she knew if he was dead, despite her previously stating that she had no idea. Barty pushed down the anxious energy that had burst to life at her words, the desperate need to question. He also realized she was right, in a blunt and morbid way. If he was dead, he could never be forced into marriage and parenthood, a life chosen for him rather than by him.

"Let's hope we win the war before it happens to you, hey," Bellatrix continued, letting out a harsh laugh. Barty parroted out a similar laugh, yet again feeling the cold reality of the truth to her words sinking in his stomach. He couldn't imagine a life other than the one he was living now, being forced to live with a stranger and play normal in public, even have children. The thought made his insides twist.

After they finished their tea, Barty and Bellatrix flooed over to 12 Grimmauld Place. The house was busy, Barty could tell from the hum of voices from other rooms. He followed Bellatrix out of the empty lounge they were in towards the tune of the voices. He remembered the first time he stepped foot in number 12 Grimmauld place, how the atmosphere had engulfed him completely.

Barty rubbed his sweaty palms against the inside of his robe pockets as he watched the house unfold in front of him. Regulus ushered him after number 12 Grimmauld place exposed itself, directing him towards the stairs.

Barty was immediately consumed with the aesthetic of the house, dark and powerful in a way that fully lived up to the name of the family which resided in it. It smelled musty and homely, not like the overly clinical scent of home. Barty tried to swallow his nerves as Regulus introduced him to his mother and father.

Barty always felt self conscious when he met new people, especially adults. He wondered if they could sense the damage his father inflicted.

"Nice to meet you," he said politely to Orion and Walburga Black, rigidly shaking their hands in a routine that was so ingrained in him that he could almost pretend it felt natural.

He tried to work through his shyness as Regulus's parents relayed all of the things he'd told them about him. He felt so out of place, like the power and history oozing from the walls of the house would engulf him, that the people living there would notice his otherness. The only thing that made him relax was the smile on Regulus's face as he watched Barty getting on with his parents.

The main lounge was full of people. Barty looked around nervously as he tried to identify somebody he recognised. He eventually found Narcissa, sat on the end of the big couch with Draco sat on her lap, an older female relative leaning towards him and tickling him with what looked like a quill.

Rather than get lost in the swarm of people, Barty trotted to Bellatrix's side, hovering while she greeted her mother and aunt, who were sat on the opposite side of the room to Narcissa. She introduced him to her mother Druella, and Barty could tell immediately that Bellatrix got most of her physical features from her father.

Druella had waves of shimmering blonde hair framing her face, and her face seemed soft and kind. He could tell that Narcissa shared many of her mother's genes, where Bellatrix had most of the signature Black family traits.

Barty stood at the side of the room while Bellatrix made small talk with her family, silently wishing that he hadn't come. He was the only man in the room, aside from the one nearly asleep in the armchair and Draco, but he didn't count. He also felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of people he didn't know, completely out of place.

Eventually Barty left, after offering brief condolences to Walburga Black. His immediate instinct was to head for Regulus's bedroom, shutting himself away from the discomfort and surrounding himself with memories of the past. He went upstairs, knowing that Bellatrix would probably realize he was in there, but as he was about to open the bedroom door a croaking sound from behind startled him.

"Look who it is," the voice said, causing Barty to spin round. He couldn't see anyone. "Barty Crouch, friend of master Regulus."

"Kreacher," said Barty, finally identifying the source of the noise. The Black house elf was hunched in the corner, a feather duster dangling from one hand.

"You're one of them now," Kreacher continued, plodding towards Barty. "You're serving the Dark Lord."

"I am, yes," said Barty quietly despite there being nobody around and surrounded by supporters.

"Master Regulus wanted more for you," said Kreacher, causing a cold wave to roll over Barty's skin. "The serpent man was not kind to Kreacher." Barty blinked in confusion, surprised to learn that Kreacher had met the Dark Lord personally. That implied that Regulus was trusted enough that he came to his home, even though he had doubts. It was obvious that there was a lot of information Barty didn't know.

"Well I finally feel I've found my place in the world," he told Kreacher, uncomfortable with how defensive a house elf had managed to make him feel. "And you're a house elf, aren't you used to being treated badly?"

"Master Regulus would be turning in his grave," muttered Kreacher, who was beginning to skulk towards the stairs. "If he had a grave."

"So he'd dead?" asked Barty, desperation raising the pitch of his voice as he followed Kreacher. "You know that he's dead."

"I promised master Regulus that I would keep his secrets," said Kreacher finally, before disappearing from halfway down the stairs, leaving Barty staring at an empty space.

Barty felt dizzy. His chest tightened and his breath disappeared in his throat as he shoved his way into Regulus's room. The emptiness of it was jarring, like he'd been hit in the chest with a stunning spell. Barty staggered over to Regulus's bed, collapsing onto his stomach, pillows swallowing his face. He breathed in, hoping to find a trace of Regulus's scent and ending up with nothing.

Regulus was dead. It was clear he was dead, and there were secrets surrounding his death that Kreacher was willing to take to the grave. Barty shut everything out, squeezed his eyes closed and clenched his fists as the pain tore through him. He'd known that there had been a chance he was dead as soon as he'd gone missing, but he'd always held out hope. Now he was mourning the loss of that hope, letting in the knowledge that the worst case scenario was reality.

He didn't cry, but felt consumed with anger. He was angry that he spent their last months together so frustrated with him, angry that Regulus had deserted him, tried to silently defy the Dark Lord knowing fully what consequences that brought. All of the conflicting emotions from earlier had doubled and were tearing him to shreds. He should hate Regulus for deserting the cause he promised his life to, the one that had saved his life, but he couldn't bring himself to, and it made him feel dirty and disloyal. He wanted to go back and do things differently, but knew that he couldn't.

He straightened up when Bellatrix came and found him, pushing as much of his emotions to the back of his mind as he could, and thinking excuses ready for what she could sense. He didn't want to leave Regulus's room, but also didn't want to alert anyone to the secrets that were being kept under their noses. It was clear that his family didn't know, and he felt the need to protect Regulus's secret from Bellatrix especially, even though he was no longer around for it to matter.

By the time they went back to Lestrange manor, Rodolphus and Rabastan were back. Barty zoned out as they talked to Bellatrix, offering a feeble 'hello' before hovering to the side and not joining in with them. He barely listened to what they were saying about an upcoming meeting, unable to find the energy to care. He knew he had to leave, the guilt of his disinterest and secrecy starting to eat at him.

Memories replayed in his mind when he arrived back home and locked himself in his bedroom. All of their best moments and their worst on loop. His last memory of seeing Regulus alive eventually made its way to the front of the show, and the tears started to roll down Barty's cheek as he realized what an obvious goodbye it had been. He'd known. Regulus had known that whatever he had planned was going to get him killed.

The announcement from Winky that someone was at the door had immediately put Barty on edge. They never had unexpected visitors, and he was home alone, starting to convince himself that the visitor had been sent by his father to spy on him. He approached the landing tentatively, his mouth falling open when he glanced down the stairs and saw Regulus standing there.

"What are you doing here?" he called down the stairs.

"I can't stop," said Regulus, almost regretfully. They'd barely spoken since their fight in Hyde Park a week ago. "But I really needed to see you." Barty made his way downstairs, pushing his anger aside.

They went into the main lounge, and Barty grew concerned by the fact that Regulus wouldn't sit down. He seemed unsteady, on edge. But there wasn't much time where he didn't nowadays.

"I want to apologise for the other week," said Regulus, wringing his hands in front of him as he spoke. "I'm sorry for how I behaved and couldn't bear the thought of leaving things like that between us."

"What do you mean leaving?" asked Barty, beginning to panic.

"I have to go away for a while," explained Regulus, his voice breaking slightly as he did. "I can't tell you where or for how long."

"Is it?"

Regulus nodded, before taking a deep breath. "I just needed you to know how much I care for you. How important you are to me."

"I know that Reg," Barty said, feeling a lump form in his throat. All he'd wanted was open acknowledgement from Regulus that they mattered.

"I'm glad," said Regulus, blinking and swallowing after the words left his mouth. Before Barty had time to ruminate on why he seemed so out of sorts, Regulus moved across the room and kissed him.

He kissed him with passion that he'd rarely shown in the entire length of their relationship, pulling him into a tight embrace as he crushed their lips together. Barty's head spun, but he relaxed into the kiss, no longer questioning its urgency. After they let go, Regulus cleared his throat and headed for the door back to the foyer.

"Bye," he said to Barty as he stepped backwards to the front door, never letting his eyes leave Barty who was lingering in the doorway. "Look after yourself."

"I will," said Barty before Regulus slipped out of the front door. For the first time in a week, hope replaced the anger that had settled within him.

It took days for Barty to process the grief, the guilt and confusion that came with it. After he'd accepted what he'd suspected all along, but desperately hoped wasn't true, he made his way to Hyde Park. He arrived at their spot, laying a single flower down amongst the bushes. There were most likely only three people who knew some of the truth about what happened to Regulus, and only one who knew the whole truth. He'd decided that he was going to keep his secret, feeling like it was the last decent thing he could do for him.

"Hey Reg," he said to the sky, laughing harshly at himself over how ridiculous it felt. "I'm going to keep your secret. And I forgive you for leaving. I don't understand why, or how your experience was, as I didn't see it, but mine has been pretty great. I finally belong somewhere now, and I know that I belonged with you, but this is different. So what I'm trying to say is, if I can forgive you for leaving, I hope you can forgive me for staying."