Sirius always liked black.
The color, not his surname. For as dark as his parents were in character, they didn't stray far from deep plums and jewel tones. Colors of their prized Slytherin background, silvers and emeralds and colors that whispered of royalty. But black was part of his rebellion. He would dress the part, wear the shadowy colors that his parents approved of only to throw his ideals and opinions in their faces. Opinions that weren't nearly dark as the color he wore today.
But on this day, black held none of the secretive mischief and mystery he'd always enjoyed.
On this day...black was despair.
Despair. Painful, soul wrenching despair. He remembers feeling it so intensely he thought he may be ill. He remembers Gwen shaking him awake in the night and staring at him until he'd panicked and asked what was wrong.
Wrong. It was wrong that Euphemia and Fleamont Potter were dead.
It was wrong.
Despair tears open his chest, exposes his heart when he watches Lily pull James into a comforting hug as best she can with the growing belly between them.
Despair takes root in his head, shoots pain through his skull when he hears the phantom laughs of excitement when he'd confessed to Fleamont and Mia that he'd proposed to the love of his life...only for the Veela to confess that she'd told them a few weeks prior.
Despair. It eats away at him. How could he have missed it? He recognized the signs of aging. Greying hair, wrinkled skin. The weight loss was subtle, forced to be inconsequential in his mind until Gwen had shaken him awake a few nights ago and had finally said the thing that everyone was avoiding.
Something was wrong. This was wrong. It's wrong, it's wrong, it's wrong.
It's wrong that he'd failed once again as a son, failed to notice that his parents were sick. Merlin, they'd gotten so sick so fast. And in the end, it had been him and James in the room with them. Sirius tried to fight it, tried to ignite the flames of self preservation. In the end James had asked that he stay, asked that they said goodbye to their parents as brothers.
It had killed a piece of him. A piece that he wrestled with in his nightmares. A piece of him that convinced himself he hadn't deserved Fleamont's fatherly love or Mia's motherly advice. A piece of him that aches at the thought that the pair wouldn't be at his wedding, wouldn't get to meet their grandson. It hurt. Fuck. It hurts.
"Sirius,"
He stares at a pice of lint on the rug of the Potter's living room, eyes stinging with unshed tears. They hadn't been able to have a funeral. It was too risky with the increased attacks from death eaters. Lily and Gwen had planned everything, had cooked and arranged flowers for the people to come by and offer their condolences. It hurt every time someone greeted him by name, told him how proud Mia and Monty were of him.
He glances sideways and smiles tiredly at his little brother, seeing his own pain reflected in the grey of Reggie's eyes.
"Where's Moony?" His voice is far more gruff than he means it to be. He quickly clears his throat, rolls his shoulders back to stand up straighter. Regulus just stares at him, looking as if he has something he wants to say. That was the difference between the stoic nature of Regulus and Gwen. Reggie always looked like he wanted to say something, say everything.
Gwen looked like she could say nothing at all. She looked like she could say anything. A puzzle. One he needs like he needs air.
Sirius glances away from his brother, searching for his next breath, searching for pearly hair and blue eyes. His heart starts the arduous process of knitting back together when he finally sees her.
For as graceful as she was, Gwen looked undeniably awkward amongst the grieving. She smiles faintly at a rather stout man standing before her, his hands waving around wildly. No doubt, telling a story about Fleamont Potter and their glory days at Hogwarts.
"She's worried about you,"
Sirius' head whips to the side, staring at Regulus uncertainly. He'd tried so hard to keep his emotions in check, to weep silently late at night with the shower running and a silencing charm on the bathroom. Gwen had respected the distance. But the distance had eroded his ability to read her somewhat. He shrugs a little, hesitating as if he can't decide if he wants to be honest. He can't. He makes the hard choice.
"I don't want to scare her off," Sirius admits, wringing his hands together. He swallows past the lump in his throat, swallows the festering grief. He was terrified, terrified that the darkness he feels swirling in his soul would take root and become permanent. That the despair and grief would turn to evil. He'd seen it happen. He'd seen it happen to people far stronger than him, people that didn't have darkness in their blood or their surname. Black. He was a Black.
Regulus looks at him knowingly, offering a crooked smile. He sighs, and for a moment Sirius feels like the younger brother when Regulus says quietly, "We may have inherited things from our parents, Sirius. Things that we don't like. But Mia and Monty—"
His brother's voice gives out for a moment, and Sirius nearly cries. He nearly shares in the tears collecting in his little brother's eyes. Regulus quickly shakes his head, voice stronger as he mutters, "It would be an insult to them to act as if we are as incapable of emotion as our birth parents. Mum taught us better. They both did."
Sirius pulls him into a hug, both of them slightly stiff and awkward. Affection in their household had been as close to a crime as fraternizing with beings and half bloods. He hugs Reggie tighter despite it all and mumbles, "I'm glad you met them."
Regulus is still for a moment, and Sirius worries that his brother is struggling with emotions just as much as he is. Fortunately, he proves him wrong. Reggie was rather good at doing that.
"Me too," Regulus whispers. "I'll miss them terribly. Gwen will too."
Sirius chuckles at the pointed nature of his last words, nodding and clapping him on the back before letting go and turning back to where Gwen was standing talking to the short wizard.
They're still chatting, the Veela offering up what seems to be very short responses to his comments. Sirius strides across the room to the doorway that she's now leaning on. She was a vision in midnight blue, the long sleeved dress making her hair look like moonlight spilling over her shoulders. Blue. Thank Merlin she'd insisted on wearing blue.
She glances up as he approaches, her lips twitching into a smile that he now realizes is hopeful. He feels a pang of guilt, his smile sheepish as he comes to stand next to her. He looks at the man who is obviously captivated by the Veela, asking quietly, "I'm terribly sorry, but could I have a moment alone with my fiancé?"
The man flushes, and Sirius isn't sure what he expects. Certainly not for him to smile and nod his head rapidly before saying, "Fleamont said he had the most wonderful daughter in laws. You and James are lucky, Sirius. My most sincere condolences."
He blinks, stunned by the man's recognition even after he walks away. Embarrassed that he doesn't know his name in return. Devastated that Fleamont had said so many kind things, had told people about his engagement, had told people about him. About Gwen.
Gwen.
He looks down and finds her staring up at him patiently, her eyes crystal clear and free of the darkness he'd been so scared of inflicting. She quirks a brow, and Sirius finds himself grunting quickly, "Get out of my head, you bloody seer."
"I'm not in your head," Gwen retorts, her face softening back to passiveness and something else. Something sweet. She raises her hand, pokes his chest above his broken heart with a slender finger and says simply, "I'm in here."
Sirius swears he could collapse, melt into a puddle at her feet and wash away into the heavenly waters of her eyes. This girl. This being. He quickly grabs her hand, and something about the urgency of his movements had Gwen's eyes softening even more.
"Do you want to go to Grimmauld Place?" She offers gently, and Sirius again wants to cry because she's not running away from the darkness. She's facing it head on.
"I don't know," He answers honestly, quietly as if he's afraid anyone may hear. He didn't want to sour the memories of the Potters by spending any time at the home of his birth parents. But the light in this room, the light in his memories was so sickly sweet and warm that he was beginning to feel claustrophobic.
"I'm scared,"
It's an admission that needs no further explanation. He's scared of a lot. Scared of what life looks like now, scared of what he looks like without the guiding light of Mia and Monty, scared that the road ahead only leads to more pain, more despair, more loss. And just when he begins to doubt saying these things out loud, revealing his secrets, Gwen somehow makes it go away.
"That's a rather brave thing to admit."
Gwen just smiles when his forehead slumps down to lean against hers, his body grateful for the weight lifted from his shoulders. She wraps her arms around him in a hug that eases his pain, warms the cold. She lets go and says quietly, "I'm just going to check in with James, and then we'll go. Alright?"
Sirius nods quickly, reluctant to have her leave his side. But she squeezes his hand before she walks away, his fingers tingling still as she crosses the room and gently taps James on the shoulder. His eyes burn once again when his best friend whirls around and folds into the arms of the Veela. He can tell James is shaking, can tell that his tears are slipping off his face and wetting the blue shoulder of Gwen's dress. Even from where he's standing, he can see that James is destroyed, but Gwen is making it better.
Sirius glances behind the two, and finds Lily watching with as much sorrow and regret as he feels. He and Lily watch as Gwen puts James back together the way only she can, her hands grabbing his shoulders and squeezing. When James leans up to look at her, Sirius chokes back the violent feelings of despair once again. James was the happiest person he knew. James shouldn't ever look like this.
But then he's smiling through the tears, swiping away at his face and grinning at something Gwen says. By the flush of Lily's cheeks, Sirius can guess that it is something crass that he definitely didn't want shared. He doesn't care. So long as it's making James laugh and waggle his brows at Sirius over the Veela's shoulder.
Gwen begins walking back over to him, her lips pulled up perfectly into a polite smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. And he knows. He knows that she hurts too, and that getting her to say it will be as close to impossible as anything.
But he'll try. He'll never stop trying.
"Ready?" Gwen asks gently, her hand extending towards his. It's more than asking if he's ready to leave for just the night. It's more. Is he ready? Will he ever be ready?
Sirius looks down into her blue eyes. The farthest thing from black. He smiles faintly and nods, taking her hand.
He was ready.
{{please don't hate me. I'm really sorry. If it makes you feel better, I tried to write out an actual death scene and literally could not do it because it made me cry. Hopefully you all forgive me (: the marauders era is not always happy unfortunately}}