Thicker than Water (Marauders Era) PART II

8 August, 1995 - Hurt

Sirius stared at her, feeling a hollow, caving sensation in his chest that was a little too familiar. Like she had just punched a hole through his chest. And she knew it. Which was worse.

"That was a low blow, Vin," Remus murmured, breaking that awful, tense silence, and when Sirius looked to his friend, he found the other man watching Lavinia with mixed astonishment and apprehension. Because of course, he too knew just how much it hurt to have that night thrown back in his face. Thrown in all their faces.

But Lavinia just watched him right back, utterly unabashed. "Tell me I'm wrong," she countered, her voice and face very flat.

Neither Remus nor Sirius responded. Because neither of them could honestly say that she was. Truthfully, Sirius knew full well that she was right. It had been bad enough before that night, bad enough to stand on the battlefields. And he knew she'd seen it. Seen the toll it took. Felt the toll it took. Merlin knew she'd held him through the nightmares and the panic and the fear. But they had handled it. They had made it through. And besides, the fighting had been expected. Even when their friends were injured, it had been a known quantity. The price of war. And they'd thought they were prepared to handle it.

But the real cost had been that night. That awful night. And they had not been prepared in the slightest. Because suddenly it wasn't just deaths in the fighting. It wasn't the fear and concept they'd been so sure they'd accepted. Because this death hadn't come from the battlefield. But rather, from their home. With their son watching. And in truth, it hadn't even been the death that had hurt. It had been the life after and the life lost. The moments James and Lily would miss with their son. With their friends. With Sirius. It had been the reality of having to live without them. To keep going when they were gone.

And as much as they'd thought they were, they had not been prepared. And Lavinia was right. They had very much proved it that night.

Because Sirius had run without thoughts in his head for the consequences. And from what he'd been told Remus had collapsed in on himself and Lavinia... Lavinia had, in some ways, been the most prepared. Because she had been seeing the death and the pain for months before that awful night. And from what Remus had said, she had somehow held herself together enough to keep functioning, to keep thinking straight. To keep both herself and Remus on their feet. But it had come at a price. And Sirius was suddenly realizing that that was what Lavinia wanted to protect these children from. It wasn't the idea of the war and it wasn't just the fighting. It wasn't even their deaths. It was the reality of trying to stay standing when you were the only one left. When the people you loved were stripped from you and the world seemed so very very cruel. That was what she wanted to keep them from. That was the price of war. And they had all paid it on that awful night so many years ago.

Knowing that, her fear made sense, of course, but...

"You can't protect them forever," Remus pointed out gently, mimicking Sirius's own thoughts as he watched Lavinia closely.

She sighed, her eyes falling from Remus's face to rest on the table beneath her fingers, an expression like devastation on her face that broke Sirius's heart. "I know," she whispered. She sighed and looked up. "But can you really blame me for trying?"

Part of Sirius honestly wanted to say yes. Yes he could. If her trying to protect them meant hurting then yes. Of course he could blame her. But there was a catch to her voice. A hurt that spoke of something deeper. Something that made him hesitate. That let Remus get there first.

And Remus just smiled softly. "Of course not, Vin," he returned gently. "Just... be realistic about it. If you can't keep them from this war, then maybe we'd be better served preparing them for it."