Assignment #4: Religious Education: The 12 Disciples

Task #11: Simon, the Zealot: Write about someone reckless

(Not For Grading! I'm also aware that it's a little over the word count!)

Auction: Day 23 / Auction 2: Game!AU

(The game is Genshin Impact, but I don't want to clog the Genshin tag with HP content, so I have left it as HP Fandom only. You don't necessarily need to play Genshin to understand this, but some of the world/terminology might be unfamiliar. Hope you enjoy!)

[Word Count: 3,794]


"Take it easy."

Regulus grunts in disagreement, easing himself into a sitting position. He has no intentions of taking it easy, not when there's a vicious creature with malicious intentions lurking in the shadow of the domain. He forces his gaze to focus, one hand pressed to the wound in his side. The monster is susceptible to shields, but McKinnon neglected to join them in favour of drinking herself into a stupor, back in Mondstadt. There is almost nothing they can do except dodge and wait, chipping away at the monster's defences, but if he's been on the ground for too long, then James might not have…

Regulus blinks rapidly, his vision finally clearing, much to his confusion. The domain is a dark, shadowy space with a brimstone stench and an earthy floor. The floor he's lying on certainly is earthy, but James is sitting right beside him, back-lit by warm sunshine. Trees dance gently in the cool wind, and the sound of a river running smoothly nearby stops his analysis in its tracks.

"When did we…?" Regulus hisses through his teeth when his side throbs, the skin pulling and stretching. "Potter?"

"Back in the land of the living, are we?" James shuffles a little closer on his knees, brow knit in concentration. "Stop moving so much. You took a rock shard to the stomach, you're lucky you still have a body to move."

"We've had worse. Azhdaha will be difficult to defeat without someone skilled in Geo magic, but I have a partial plan." He readies himself to rise, glancing around at the thick roots of the tree cradling his body. "How far did you travel from the domain?"

"Oi," James says, squinting at him disapprovingly. "If you mess up my patch job, I'm going to toss you back in the domain alone and let Azhdaha use you like a toothpick."

"Your patch job is unnecessary," Regulus grits out. "Let me catch my breath, and I'll—"

But he doesn't get to announce what he'll do. James shoves him, the barest amount, only using the tips of his fingers against Regulus's shoulder, and he goes down like a sack of bricks. The air flees his lungs. He blinks, dazed, at the bright blue sky until James's face appears in his line of sight, hovering over him with a distinctly unimpressed expression in place.

"Oh yeah, you're in such a fit state to do immense amounts of healing magic."

"How did you know I was planning to heal myself?" Regulus murmurs.

"The same way I know that you have very intense feelings about literature and the way books should be arranged, and the same way I know that you'd rather die than eat anything that comes out of Angel's Share, even though their grilled steak is to die for. I know you, you big idiot."

James has a terrible habit of waltzing into Regulus's life and smiling angelically while he makes a mess of things. The smile makes it pretty hard to be mad at him. Especially when he's the one in charge of making sure Regulus doesn't bleed out all over a tree in the middle of nowhere. And take charge he does, hoisting Regulus off the ground as carefully as possible and slinging an arm around his waist.

"What are you doing?" Regulus demands.

"Making sure you can't walk head-first into the arms of death," James responds cheerily.

A deep, cerulean swathe of energy wraps around them. Regulus holds his breath. He hates the feeling of moving from one place to another with nothing to catch him in between, only a vast emptiness that they travel through in the blink of an eye. He barely has time to get his feet underneath him, noting the change from soft earth to rough cobbles, before James begins hauling him forward.

"This is a waste of time," Regulus protests, as he allows himself to be dragged down the street, blinking rapidly to clear his dizziness. "We should be defeating Azhdaha, not … where are we going?"

Canopies of red and gold leaves blur into one watercolour streak. James says nothing, leading him through Liyue with helpful little nudges, cheerfully ignoring his weak protests. It's been a long time since he's felt this weak. His legs feel like bags of slime secretions, and there's a numb feeling spreading across his chest, fanning out from where the shard must have impaled him. Worrying, certainly. But not unfamiliar.

Despite James's hysterics, they do get injured often. This world is too fierce to escape every encounter with a monster unharmed. Regulus often ends up cowering underneath Madame Minerva's piercing stare, healing magic pouring from her fingers, tinged a judgemental sort of red. She was the one to teach him everything he knew about healing when he first arrived, about how to harness the Hydro Element for his own health. She's regretted it ever since, if only because of how often he throws himself into dangerous situations, confident in his own ability to fix it.

A little too confident, some might say. Appropriately cocky, Sirius might say, as it pertains to his own genes too. Downright fucking stupid, in Remus Lupin's blank, dry words.

James doesn't really say anything about it. He just appears at Regulus's back, ready to take his hits and stitch up his wounds. Right now, he looks fretful as he navigates the streets, dodging various Milieth with expert ease until they've passed the terrifyingly alluring perfume shop.

"Nearly there!" James says brightly.

"You do know that I'm capable of walking, don't you?" Regulus snaps.

"Tell that to my shoulder. You're practically riding it."

Regulus wrenches his arm away, but all it does is send him careening into the wall. Pain shoots through his stomach. He gasps, clutching his side, and leans over slightly to stop himself from vomiting everywhere.

"Will you stop fighting me on this?" James says, and his voice is low and exasperated but so anxious that it takes Regulus aback slightly. "I know you hate feeling like you're relying on someone else, and I know you want to finish that fight. But right now, we can't afford to go back there until you're better."

"I…"

He flounders, unable to find the words. He still feels tenuously attached to this realm, as though he might slip off the edge any moment now. There's a hint of fog encroaching on his vision, but he beats it back ruthlessly, steadying his breathing.

"Leave it," James says, after a beat of silence. His shoulders slump; Regulus spies the way his whole body sags out of the corner of his eye, rumpled and distressed. "Hey," he says softly. "How many battles have we fought?"

Regulus frowns, easing himself upright cautiously. "I do not keep count."

"But it's a lot, right? We've fought a lot of battles, killed a lot of monsters, nearly died together, right?" James shifts closer, blocking him in by the wall and lowering his voice, arm outstretched. "You trust me to have your back in battle. Trust me to have it out here too."

Trust has never been the issue. Despite his misgivings, he takes James's hand, fitting their palms together. James stares down at their joined fingers for a moment, vaguely baffled.

"I actually wanted you to grab my elbow so you don't trip and die on the stairs," James says. "But this is way better."

Cursing, Regulus tries to pull away, but James doesn't let him. He is mutinous as James pulls him through the street again, but this time they walk with some semblance of normality, instead of hauling each other around like dogs on a leash. The pain from his wound throbs intermittently, but with each step, he stops feeling like he's going to unleash his breakfast everywhere. Now, he just feels slightly exhausted. There are no good taverns in Liyue, but he would settle for a bench or a nice corner somewhere.

The sight of the staircase leading up to Wanwen Bookhouse is a familiar one, and it fills him with comfort. But it's still bizarre for James to lead him up there, abandoning him at the top of the staircase in order to skip over to the counter. Lily Evans stands behind it, her nose buried in a book, her flaming red hair piled high on top of her head.

"I don't know what you want, but the answer is no," Lily says, turning a page without looking up.

James makes a quelling motion with his hands, trying to quiet her. He glances over his shoulder, and returns Regulus's raised eyebrow with a little reassuring wink. Regulus rolls his eyes, scanning the bookshop while they engage in furious whispers. There are only two customers browsing the shelves, though browsing is probably the wrong word in a place like this. The rules of Wanwen Bookhouse are very strict, and never waver. You may only look at a book once you've purchased it.

Suffice to say, Regulus has burned a lot of mora in this shop, and yet he still hasn't learned to stay away.

"Fine!" Lily cries, slamming the book shut and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I feel as though it's every girl's dream to have a man begging at her feet, but the reality is a nightmare. Put him in the armchair across the bridge, in my study. There's stuff for tea in there too. If I see so much as a dirty fingerprint on a page, I shall end both of you, wounded or not."

"You're the best," James coos.

Regulus bristles. He doesn't particularly want to stand around like a gormless bit of fruit, watching James make eyes at some girl. Not that Evans is some girl. As far as girls go, she isn't unbearable. She has her head screwed on properly, and a sweet, kind, mischievous nature. She also has a proper appreciation for all things bookish — a fact that would endear her to Regulus if she didn't also share that passion with Remus Lupin, part-time bookshop employee, and full-time smartass.

"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" Regulus asks, as James comes bounding over to link their hands together. "Or do I have to guess? Because if you expect me to understand the plebian workings of your mind, you have a brutally disappointing awakening ahead of you."

His sniping isn't even worth a response, it would seem, because James simply leads him through the bookshop and across the open bridge. The door at the other end opens at his touch, allowing them access to Lily's study. It's quiet in there, cosy and warm, and though every available inch of space seems crammed full of books, it has a clean, airy feel to it. James practically launches him into the only armchair, a cushy green seat with a cream throw draped over the back. Then he bustles around, opening windows and hunting down everything necessary to make tea.

"Is this your version of confinement?" Regulus mutters. "Tea and books and a comfortable chair?"

"Well, I can find you a dungeon to throw you in, if you like? Or I can take you back to Mondstadt, where it's noisy and full of peasants." Quickly, he adds: "Your words, not mine, so don't tell Lily I said that. I figured this would be the best way to get you to take it easy."

The armchair is awfully comfortable, and the scent of green tea brewing on the desk is soothing. James fiddles with a teaspoon, watching him beseechingly. He's a lot stronger than he pretends to be. If Regulus tries to get up, he'll only be pushed back down again. But James still pleads and bargains first, using words instead of action.

"You can't heal yourself, not with this little energy," James continues, laying all the facts out neatly like knows exactly what Regulus needs to hear. "Food helps, I know, but you've already had some tempura and I don't want you to throw up all over Lily's floor. She won't forgive us."

"Forget forgiveness, she won't let us live to see the morning," Regulus scoffs. He scrunches up his face. "When did you feed me tempura?"

"When you were taking a little nap in the tree roots. You wouldn't wake up, so I force-fed you tempura, but that was all I had on me. Look, if you won't rest for my sake, or yours, then if nothing else, we need to make a lot more healing material before we go back to the domain again. That's going to take a while."

Reluctantly, he concedes the points. James brings him a cup of tea and threatens to drop it in his lap if he doesn't drink it slowly. Then, mortifyingly, he kneels down in front of Regulus, lifting his shirt to check the wound. It's his first instinct to slap James's hands away, but he can't, not while he's gripping the teacup like a lifeline. James's touch is soft but sure. Careful without being too clinical.

"Seems like it's on the mend, but the skin is still tender, and I don't like the look of the actual cut," James says, as he skates his fingers carefully over Regulus's stomach, igniting whispers of sensation. "It's not properly healed. Too much strain and you'll tear it open again."

"You did this on purpose," Regulus murmurs, tapping the teacup.

"Sure did." James pats his shirt back down and leans back. "Seriously, though. I want you to rest, and this is pretty much the only place I know you feel safe enough to do it. Lily said you can have this chair and access to the entire bookshop for the rest of the day and the evening, as long as you don't mess anything up. I'll find out where Remus is staying and get us somewhere cosy to sleep tonight, okay?"

"I don't need taking care of," he grits out. "I'm not a child."

"I feel like we already had this conversation. Am I the injured one? Maybe I'm the injured one. Azhdaha does seem to have it out for my pretty face, so a concussion doesn't seem too unlikely."

Regulus can only stare at him in exasperation. "That's not what I meant."

"Well, figure out what you meant, and learn how to say it better."

James is gone before Regulus can upend the tea all over his perfect, windswept hair. That scruffiness annoyed him when they first met. It still annoys him now. But there is something undeniably attractive about the devil-may-care look, especially when paired with silk shirts and clean, slim glasses.

The study is even quieter in James's absence. The green tea helps, giving him something mindless to focus on other than the tingling feeling spreading out from his injury. It's a little distracting, but at least it isn't numb anymore.

The knock on the door is welcome. Lily pokes her head in, bringing a stack of books with her.

"These are for you," she says, though she doesn't look too happy about it. "Not a single mark, understand? I'm glad you're okay."

"You didn't seem very glad at the counter."

"Oh, I'm glad, but I'm also annoyed. When are you going to stop being so reckless?"

Regulus bristles, setting aside the teacup. It's hard to feel intimidating when he's wrapped in a throw, tucked into a squishy armchair, but he refuses to feel cowed. He's halfway out of the seat when Lily slams the stack of books down on the desk and points a finger in his face.

"Sit down," she snaps. "If James comes back and finds you passed out on the floor because of your own stupidity, I'll never hear the end of it. You can either sit down, so that James can stop worrying about you, or you can stand up, and prove me right about being reckless."

Rage curls in his gut, low and simmering. But it's not the only thing there. It hasn't been for a long time. James, as fond as he is for coming into his life to rearrange his plans, has certainly done a number on his emotional range too. He now boasts a whopping seven emotions in his catalogue, and unfortunately, guilt is one of them.

Slowly, still meeting Lily's glare with one of his own, he sits down.

She nods, satisfied. "That's better."

"He doesn't need to be worried."

"Oh, I agree. He doesn't need to worry about you. He needs to worry about his own funeral costs because at this point you're going to drive him into an early grave. I'm going to give you a clue, since despite your smarts, you apparently don't know how to read people as well as you do books." She crouches in front of him, one hand pressed to his knee in warning, Pyro Energy warming her skin. "James will care about you for the rest of your life. And when he cares about people, he worries about them. Constantly. It's the most annoying thing about him, but it's also the sweetest. Don't take it for granted."

"I wouldn't." Regulus swallows some of that rage, the guilt increasing. "I know that he cares. I have no intention of making him regret it. But I can't afford to stop. Not if I want to find Sirius."

"You don't have to stop," Lily says, eyes softening. "Just… slow down, okay? Take it easy when you can. You're no good to your brother like this."

No good. The words sting. Regulus averts his gaze, eyes prickling. Not a soul knows what happened, not a single person knows the truth.

"I haven't told James what happened yet," Regulus says. "It is… difficult. Difficult to talk about. I don't want him to think less of me. My brother and I aren't from this world. Most people know that. And I've looked for him ever since I woke up on a beach in Mondstadt. Most people know that too."

"I've seen the missing person posters," Lily agrees.

"I put some of them up," James says, from the doorway. It startles them both. Lily's hand falls away and she lets out a mild curse, but drops her aggravation at the look on James's face. Serious, focused concern. All of it aimed at him. She moves to get up and leave, to give them space, but Regulus finds himself reaching out to take her wrist.

He hasn't been on this world very long, in the grand scheme of things, but the majority of it was spent alone. Now that he has these friends, he finds himself not wanting to lose them. Even if it means opening up.

"You were eavesdropping, weren't you?" Regulus asks.

James shrugs, not looking all that guilty. "I was going to show myself before you revealed anything important. Anything you want to tell me, I want to know. But I want it to be because you want to tell me."

"That was a terrible collection of words," Lily says, wrinkling her nose. Her wrist is still in his hand, her fingers resting on his knee. "I cannot believe some people call you a smooth-talker."

"Only when there's treasure involved!"

Lily makes a dismissive noise, turning back to Regulus. "You were saying?"

A quick glance at James proves that he has no intentions of leaving. He stands in the middle of the room, head cocked in gentle expectation. He wants to know. But Regulus knows that if he asks, James will leave, and that's what gives him the courage to finally tell his story.

"We have always been travelers, flying from world to world in search of adventure. Believe it or not, but I wasn't always the reckless one. That was Sirius's job. You would get along, I think. But this time, we were fleeing. Fleeing from one terrible world to another. I still don't understand what happened, but at the border of this world, a god appeared and bound us both."

"You were looking for a god when you came here," James says, eyes blowing wide with realisation. "The Geo Archon."

"I knew it wasn't Morax when I saw the statue. They look nothing alike. The Border God was cold and vicious."

Lily squeezes his fingers hesitantly. "What did they do?"

"They gave us a choice," Regulus spits. "The Border God said they would let one of us go free. Sirius looked at me, and he said to take him, because I was scared. He could see how scared I was, and he offered himself up. I was too terrified to protest, and that fear cost me a brother. I don't know what happened to him, or where he is, but I know I cannot afford to be scared anymore."

But he also knows that there is a difference between fearless determination and reckless idiocy. He's lectured Sirius on it enough times. So he hesitates.

"But I also cannot afford to keep getting injured, or I will never find him. I shall endeavour to be more careful."

James cheers, leaping into the air. His grin is blinding, quickening, sweetly reassuring.

"We'll help you," Lily says, patting him gently.

"We'll find Sirius, and we'll help you take care of yourself," James says, brimming with excitement. "Everything's going to go so much more smoothly now that we know what we're dealing with."

That is far too much optimism for one day. Regulus groans, slumping in the chair. Lily's sigh can probably be heard all the way from Guyun Stone Forest.

"You've done it now," she says. "Everything's going to go terribly wrong, and it will all be your fault."

"Someone has to be the cheerful one on this team," James says, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not saving someone with the world's cynical bastards if it means becoming a cynical bastard."

"You don't want to be anything like me, Potter?" Lily says, smiling sweetly.

"Ah—well…"

"Or me?" Regulus muses thoughtfully, tipping his head. "Would that be so bad?"

James looks between them, eyes wide. He looks caught between running away and fainting on the spot at their combined attention. Eventually, his wild gaze lands on the teapot, and he lurches towards it.

"More tea! Lily, sugar?"

"Yes, honey?" she says, completely deadpan.

The sound of fumbling teaspoons is their only response, followed by a shrill whistle that doesn't seem to have come from the teapot. Regulus snorts. Lily winks at him, patting his knee once more before getting up to save James from his own ineptitude. He settles back in the chair, watching them work and bicker, and for the first time since he set foot on this world, he begins to feel like things might turn out alright.