Word count: 151
Characters: Regulus Black
Prompt: nest_of_spiders, day 3 - In war, there are no unwounded soldiers.
Author's notes: Everyone else was writing about his death, sooo...
He collapsed the instant the door was shut and he was alone. Before he had the time to recognize what he was doing, his knees had given way and he found himself on the floor, his knees curled to his chest.
His breathing came in desperate, ragged gasps. He felt as though he’d run a mile rather than merely Apparated – he was covered in a cold sweat, his stomach was twisting madly, his hands were shaking and unsteady.
He had killed, for the first time.
He had killed.
It was a minute or two before he realized there were tears sliding down his face and dampening his collar and that the ragged breaths were sobs. They echoed in the emptiness of the flat and in a desperate bid for comfort, he wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his forehead on his knees.
This was not what he had wanted.