Written For:

- Hogwarts Assignment #5/Mythology Task #3: Write about a character being released from captivity.

- Writing Club/Assorted Appreciation: #5 - "Didn't you think I'd ever find my way back?"

- Writing Club/Showtime: #3 - (action) Kissing

- Writing Club/Amber's Attic: #16 - Asylum!AU

- Writing Club/Sophie's Shelf: #15 - (action) Making a call

- Writing Club/Film Festival: #26 - (dialogue) "We all go a little mad sometimes"

- Writing Club/Lyric Alley: Auditory Hallucination

- Seasonal/Days of the Year: National Boyfriend's Day - Write a slash pairing

- Seasonal/Autumn Seasonal Challenge: (dialogue) "Things change. People change. I've changed."

- Seasonal/Star Chart: Write about Regulus Black

- Autumn Funfair/Apple Picking: Tree 6 - Prompt 1 (word) Home

- Fortnightly Events/Build a Masque: Embellishments - Pearls: (AU) Asylum

- Monster Mash: List #2/Prompt #8 - Asylum!AU, List #3/Prompt #12 - Barty Crouch Jr

Word Count: 1,418

For Elizabeth

is it safe to just be who we are?

"Call for Patient seven-four-five-one-nine on the line." The bored tone of the ward matron sounded over the loudspeaker, causing many other residents to flinch. Barty barely registered what she had even said, until an orderly wandered over and gave him a shove.

"Seven-four-five-one-nine," he said nastily, jabbing a finger at the number that was scrawled across the front of his hospital-grade shirt. "Telephone."

Barty climbed out of his chair and followed the orderly over to the booth at the other end of the ward. The orderly fished a loop of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, before shoving Barty inside and locking the door back up behind him. Patients weren't allowed inside the telephone booth usually. After all, the cord could probably be used as a weapon.

Tentatively, Barty lifted the receiver. He wasn't expecting any phone call. No one called him. His mother was long since dead, and his father hadn't spared him a thought since he had Barty incarcerated in the asylum. "Hello?" he said into the mouthpiece.

"Barty? Barty, is that you?"

The voice was familiar. Barty was reminded of a time before shackles and being force-fed pills and cruel orderlies and an even crueller matron. He was reminded of dark grey eyes with a wicked sparkle, warm arms encircling him, and a tingling feeling that he hadn't felt for a long time…

"Yes," he replied quietly. His mouth was as dry as sandpaper. "Who is this?"

"Barty, it's me," the voice replied. "It's Regulus. I've been..I've tried everything...oh, I can't believe I've finally found you!"

oOo

Regulus's voice echoed in Barty's ears for the rest of the day, right up until he was dragged back to his cell for bed. It was a welcome change to hear something other than the constant rattle of his own spiteful thoughts. He was even able to shut out the taunts of the orderlies and the howls and screams of the other patients.

Though, the longer he dwelled on the words that Regulus had spoken right into his ear, the more Barty began to wonder if it had even happened at all. Had he visited the telephone booth? Had anyone been on the other end of the receiver? Maybe it was all just a trick. Maybe it was all in his head.

Nevertheless, the voices gave him thoughts. Now that he had a familiar voice in the recesses of his mind, he felt a little more at peace.

For the first time in the longest time, Barty was able to drift off to sleep quite easily in his uncomfortable little cot.

oOo

Barty was awoken rudely the next day by an orderly throwing open his cell door and slinging a paper bag at him. Barty flinched so hard he almost fell out of bed. The orderlies generally made them get out of bed at six in the morning to go to the day room, but the cell doors all swung open at the same time the orderlies just stood in the corridor, shouting for the patients to get up. However this morning, no other doors were open. There was only one reason that a patient would be woken up earlier than the rest.

So that their leaving wouldn't cause upset.

Barty ripped at the paper bag. A plain navy jumper and a pair of corduroy trousers fell into his lap. "Put those on, quickly," the orderly snapped. "You're finally getting out of our way."

The orderly didn't really look too pleased about that. They never were.

oOo

He hadn't ever left the main doors out of the day room. No one had ever come to visit him, and even if they had, it was rare that patients were allowed visitors. "It's not in their best interest to see their loved ones," the matron would simper to any would-be visitors.

"Where am I going?" Barty asked, more to himself than anyone. He knew that the orderly leading him away from the day room wouldn't answer. "Where are you taking me?"

To his surprise, the orderly dropped his head so that his lips were close to Barty's ear. "You're someone else's problem now, freak," he muttered, his voice dripping with acid. "Some demented rich fool paid the warden to release you. Who knew someone like you would be worth so much to someone." The orderly scoffed. "He must be just as big of a freak as you."

He led Barty out of the day room through the main doors, and his eyes were suddenly assailed by a flood of bright, beaming light. Light. Out here, where the orderlies and nurses roamed, there were windows. There was sunlight streaming in. Barty ground the heel of his palm into his eye, trying to adjust to it. He had been so used to dim, dingy rooms for so long.

Another large set of doors were opened, and this time Barty found himself breathing in air that was sharp and cold, and fresh. He sucked it in gratefully, closing his eyes and allowing the sunlight to sting his face. He felt like a newborn only just experiencing the world. He'd had a life before being committed to the asylum. How had he forgotten these simple pleasures?

The orderly gave him one last shove, and suddenly Barty was out in the courtyard. It was quiet; Barty wasn't used to the quiet. The sunlight hurt his eyes and he couldn't see properly. His heart hammered in his chest, and he turned back to the now-closed asylum doors, wishing that the cruel orderly would open them and take him back in. Barty hated his life there, but it was what he knew. He didn't know anything about the outside world anymore.

"Barty," a voice called. "Barty, it's okay! Come over here."

The voice made Barty's skin erupt into goosebumps, and he turned away from the door slowly. A figure in dark clothing stood by a car in the courtyard. He carefully moved closer, extending a hand to Barty.

As Barty's eyes adjusted, the man's features swam into view. Gunmetal eyes, still twinkling, but they were softer, wrinkled at the edges. A curved smile, welcoming Barty. A sweep of jet-black hair. Memories of another life flashed before Barty; memories of a life spent with Regulus.

"Is it really you?" Barty whispered. His hands shook as he let Regulus take hold of him gently, and his eyes filled with tears.

"Didn't you think that I'd ever find my way back to you?" Regulus wrapped an arm around Barty's shoulder and opened the lapel of his long coat to wrap it around him. "I've looked for you ever since I found out that your father had shipped you away. I thought he'd had you killed, but I still kept looking."

"How did you find me?" Barty paused. "How long has it been?"

Regulus pressed his lips together firmly before answering. "Twelve years, Barty. It's been twelve years."

"Twelve years," Barty repeated, his voice little more than a whisper. "I had no idea. The days just merge into each other in there."

"Your father held onto his secrets while he was alive. It wasn't until he died last year, and I finally got a hold of his personal records, that I was able to get an address for you."

Barty pulled away from Regulus suddenly. "He...he's dead?"

Regulus face became solemn. "I'm sorry…"

There was a moment of silence between them, before Barty rested his chin back on Regulus's shoulder. "Don't be sorry. I hate him."

"Barty…"

"No, it doesn't matter. I don't want to talk about him," Barty took a breath. "I want to talk about...what happens to me now?"

Regulus's arms tightened around Barty's shoulders. "You're coming home with me. I haven't searched for you for twelve years just for you to go wandering off without me." A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and he pressed a chaste kiss to Barty's mouth.

"Why do you want me to come back with you?" Barty asked, peering up at Regulus's face. Another flickering memory passed through the front of his mind, a memory of the two of them laughing, cuddling, play-fighting. "I'm not like I was, Regulus. Things change. People change. I've changed."

Regulus grinned. "We all go a little mad sometimes." He pulled his coat more firmly around Barty. "Now, stop sulking. I've waited a long time to say this to you."

Barty looked up at Regulus hopefully.

"It's time to go home."

End