It was always peaceful, working in the garden, James an unstoppable train of chatter beside him; an insurmountable wall of warmth. James" voice was deep and warm and sort of rumbled in his chest. It soothed Regulus. Calmed him on the bad days; warmed him on the better days. There was just —James" voice was an anchor. Something to help quiet the nasty, sneering voice in Regulus" head that wished him dead. Though, it was begging to become less common.