A Marauder's Guide to Falling Apart

Chapter Twenty Nine

Marlene didn't bother to go in for her next scheduled shift and had instead sought refuge in her bedroom for the next two days. Her body was too exhausted from her lack of food intake and convulsive crying.

She hadn't heard from anyone other than Emmeline, who had talked with Claven to let him know that Marlene was sick and wouldn't be coming in. She had taken a day off work herself to stick around the apartment in case Marlene needed anything, but Marlene suspected that she was scared she might hurt herself.

"Marlene?" Emmeline knocked softly on the door to her bedroom before pushing it open gently. "Do you need anything?"

"No," Marlene said dully. She was staring at the wall opposite of the door so that she couldn't see Emmeline's face. She didn't even bother to move to look at her.

"I know that you think –"

"I don't want to talk about it Emmeline," Marlene choked back another sob. "I can't handle talking about it right now."

"I know."

Marlene could feel the weight of Emmeline's body settle at the end of the bed from where she sat down. Still, Marlene would not look at her. She did not want to see the pitying look she imagined that Emmeline was wearing.

"You don't need to talk to me, but you do need to listen," Emmeline continued. "This was not your fault. Besides the fact that Claven should not have left you alone on the unit, the most important factor here is that there was nothing that could be done about her condition. Nobody could have prevented her death."

"Tell that to James," Marlene spat out. "He doesn't care. It will always be my fault because I sent him away."

"You don't know how James is feeling," Emmeline was still quiet and gentle. "Don't just assume."

"You weren't there," Marlene sobbed again. Fresh tears had sprung to her eyes and collected on the pillow beneath her head. She curled her body into herself and drew her arms to hug around her knees, much like that of the fetal position. "You didn't see him. Or hear him. You didn't hear how either of them spoke to me. They hate me!"

"Lily?" Emmeline seemed confused.

"No, Sirius," and then Marlene let out a strangled wail. It was precisely why she hadn't wanted to talk about it; the conversation only reopened the wound she was desperate to heal. Her feelings towards James' hostility were nothing compared to the devastation she felt where Sirius was concerned.

"Oh," she sounded sad. Marlene hadn't completely filled her in on what had transpired with Sirius and Patrick, and she didn't feel any desire to do so. Emmeline hung around for a little while longer in silence. Her hand rested on Marlene leg and gave her a reassuring squeeze before telling her that she would be out in the living room if Marlene needed anything.

But Emmeline wouldn't be able to give Marlene what she needed, even if she asked. She waited for days before another familiar face showed up at her bedroom door.

"Marlene McKinnon," she instantly recognized Remus's voice. She knew that he was scowling at her by the sheer reprimanding tone that accompanied his words. She rolled around on the bed to look at his tired, weary figure that slumped against the door frame.

He was looking at her with a mixture of sadness and annoyance; for what, she did not know.

"Have you come to tell me what an awful person I am too?" she snapped at him. She had been able to supress her tears that morning, but the threatened to build up again.

"You are not an awful person," he shook his head. "Can I come in?"

"You're likely going to come in regardless if I say no," she muttered. But Marlene pulled herself into a sitting position and moved aside so that Remus could sit beside her.

"I brought you something," he handed her a napkin that was wrapped around a blueberry muffin. "Because you and I both know how well you handle grief."

She let out a curt laugh and took it from his hands. She hadn't eaten well and she openly brought the pastry to her mouth to take a bite. It tasted warm and fresh like it had just come out of the oven.

"Thank you," she said after she had swallowed her bite.

"Emmeline told me that you haven't been out of your bedroom in days," he continued. Marlene dropped her gaze when she noticed that he held unmistakable disappointment.

"I have nowhere else to go," she said flatly before taking another bite. She chewed it around slowly with the hope that she could delay the inevitable conversation that was coming her way. But she wouldn't be able to hide from it forever and Remus knew that too because he waited patiently for her to finish eating.

"You aren't as alone as you think you are," his words were kind. He scooted closer and threw his arm around her shoulder to comfort her. She felt her breathing grow heavy in anticipation of the tears she figured were making their way to the surface, but they did not come.

They sat together in silence for what felt like an hour but was more likely only a few minutes. Marlene struggled with her thoughts and what she wanted to say. She had so many questions for Remus, yet at the same time she had nothing to say to him at all. It wasn't him that she desired to speak with, but who she really needed to talk to wasn't talking with her.

"How bad is it?" she finally asked.

"I don't know," he sounded honest. "I know that everyone is grieving very hard right now. And I know that things aren't going to get easier from here. But I also know that you are stronger than you think you are Marlene, and you're going to make it out of this just fine."

"But what if I don't?" she asked softly.

"You will. And you have people who love you unconditionally and are there to help you with whatever you need. You are not alone, Marlene McKinnon. You are never alone."