Marauders One Shots

Loss (S.B.)

Request: hello, could I request a sirius x reader back in their day, when they find out Marlene was dead? thank you.

A/N: 1.2K of angst!

Warnings: mentions of death, anger, loss, and grief

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The war was taking its toll on everyone. The Order was outnumbered 20:1, and hope was dwindling fast.

Sirius and you try to remain optimistic but knowing the depths of Sybil Trelawney's prophecy left little optimism to muster.

The house in which you live is where you display your optimism. In a largely decorated house; pictures cover the walls from floor to ceiling, your friends facings smiling out of the frames; and a garden so full of flowers it's hard to decide one distinct perfume.

In all the mess of the war, your garden provides Sirius with a safe haven where he can sit and simply breathe. In the garden, he doesn't have to think about missions. In the garden, he doesn't have to think of his and yours safety; he can simply be. In the garden, he gets a taste of what life after the war would hopefully be.

He had known something happened from the look on your face. Your eyes were red, cheeks puffy. You had been crying before coming out here to tell him.

"Darling, what's wrong? What's happened?" Sirius asks, coming to your side.

You swallow around the lump in your throat, "A letter from Dumbledore."

Sirius freezes at your side, "What does it say?"

"There was an attack today. Death Eaters versus a family; there were no survivors in the family."

Sirius closes his eyes, "Do we know them?"

"Sirius," You sob, "I am so sorry."

"Why? Who is it?" A sick feeling grows in his stomach; it's dread.

"It was Marlene McKinnon and her family. I'm so sorry, love. So sorry."

Sirius doesn't hear anything after the name. It's all white noise; he only focuses on her name and the pain lancing through him at yet another loss. And a loss he didn't expect at all.

You are speaking but he isn't hearing the words; he isn't taking them in. "They were ambushed. She was trying to get her family to safety, but they found them. They were all killed, even the children."

His hearing falls out again; the white noise is back, ringing all through his head. He can't make sense of this loss; Marlene was an asset to the Order, a singularly gifted witch that only wanted to do good. She only ever wanted to do good.

"How many more?" Sirius roars, cursing the sky as if it held all the answers. "How many more do you need to take from me? – Regulus, Frank, Alice and now Marlene." He sobs brokenly, "I'm done. I'm done."

Marlene... Marlene... Marlene. He had known her since First Year; he had known her the majority of his life. They had always been close; who he would go to if he needed help or advice. She would be there for him whilst also being blunt about what he needed to do. He had gone to her for advice about you; she had told him to get over himself and that he was too dumb to see how in love with him you already were.

Countless times she had his back on missions. Always there on his six, ready to protect and defend until her last breath.

Sirius just didn't expect her last breath to be at the age of twenty-two. She hadn't started to live her life. She had confided to Sirius just last week what she wanted to do when it the war was over; she wanted to travel. She wanted to see France, Italy, Greece and who knows? Maybe find a nice young man or woman along the way. She wanted fun; she wanted love.

She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve this fate at all.

A sob breaks through his lips as he thinks of Marlene in the past tense. How many more of them would lose their lives before this godforsaken war ends?

He doesn't know when your arms wrap around him; he doesn't know when you press his head to your chest, but the sound of your heartbeat helps to settle his sobs.

You're both suffering this loss. Whilst you didn't have the closest relationship, Marlene was so central to The Order. She had the perfect mind for strategies; coming up with the safest plans for The Order. You couldn't count how many times you owe her for saving Sirius' life when he wasn't being careful enough. His recklessness was perfectly balanced with her responsibility. The tears start anew when you realise that you won't ever get to thank her for bringing Sirius home to you countless times.

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Grief displays itself in many ways; no-one grieves the same as another.

For you, you would bake. After a death in The Order, the members knew to expect baskets and baskets of baked goods. Cakes, buns, fudge. You name it, you made it. It kept you calm; it kept you distracted. The recipes having your mind think in methodical ways; now it's time for the eggs, (Y/N), now you need to add the flour (Y/N). And on it went until your ingredients started to dwindle and your tears started to flow freely.

Sirius grieved by throwing himself into his work for The Order; volunteering for mission after mission. He would put himself in the firing line time after time; coming home with injuries upon injuries. His recklessness increased through his grief; he didn't think things through, and it led to so many nights sat on the side of the bathtub as you cleaned his injuries. You would always heal him though. You would sit him down on the toilet as you rifled through the cupboards finding everything you would need to heal him. He never complained; he would only wince slightly when the antiseptic caught a fresh wound.

Then you would come together. Your grief finally becoming too much for the both of you to handle alone. Sirius would see the tears that fall through your healing of him. He would see your clenched jaw as you tried and tried to not let out a single sob.

He would wait until you had finished patching him up before seeking out your lips. Kiss after breathless kiss would be shared between you. Finally coming together after so long being distant; reconnecting after spending so long drifting.

Sirius takes his time to relearn your body; to worship at you like a man desperate for absolution. You would stay up the whole night; pressing kisses to bare skin, whispering affirmations to his tattooed body.

Promises would be made that have been made a thousand times before. Life without the other would be too much; neither would cope. Your feelings so invested that Sirius felt like half of you and you felt like half of him. Never one without the other. Sirius would be damned if he was to let a war separate the two of you. He would swear to you, as he has done so often before, that there would no life where he would not find you.

You lie together as the sun rises. As Sirius' arms wrap righter around you, it is clear that the burden would now be shouldered together. The time to grieve alone had passed; he would need you now as you will need him. When the grief becomes too much; threatening to paralyse him, you would be there, keeping his head above the surface.

Despite it all, you both were aware of this:

The grief and loss would never go away, but the pain would ease.