"Sirius. Orion. Black," Regulus mocked, because he could; because he should. Because they did not do emotions. Because they did not show weakness. Because they were them, and there could never be gratitude between them. But they could mock each other. And they could bicker and they could fight. And maybe that could soothe something in Regulus. Fill in some of the emptiness that had been hurting; that had been gnawing at his skin. "It would do you well to remember you are technically an outsider." 