Sirius had to be physically restrained. Regulus would never admit to the whimper that left his lips. Still scared of his big brother. Still ready to bow his head at reprimand and crawl into his lap the way he did when he was five and ten and nearly eleven and beg silently for him to kiss his head and tell him it was okay. And beg for forgiveness. And earn forgiveness. There was no forgiveness to be earned. Not anymore.