A/N: Resilience is a word used not so often. And the times it is used, to what effect?
Hardly ever to emotional causes.
I dedicate this to elenwyn- a true Lily Evans.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters below. Nah, I just write in fillers for their unknown Marauder tales.

Resilience. Known as the ability to recover quickly from illness, change, or misfortune; or the property of a material that enables it to resume its original shape or position after being bent, stretched, or compressed. But how can one recover quickly without leaving so much stretch? How can you relax, knowing that now, there's all that empty space? How can you go back to the way things once were, when the ones closest to you are gone?
A friend once said, 'The ones that love us never truly leave us'. I wish I could believe him, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to find my dear, sweet Lily, and my old friend, James.
Where are they now? I constantly wonder, looking to the sky for guidance. Perhaps they're somewhere above, drinking their tea and living a calm afterlife.
Or maybe they're still here; wandering the earth, following us and whispering words of encouragement into our ears.
Perhaps their souls leave us, and they vanish forever. I wouldn't know; but knowing ruins it, doesn't it? By knowing, every possibility is cut off, leaving only the bare face of truth. And as I observe the sunset-lit graveyard around me, I feel that knowing isn't everything.
I lived my life studying, learning everything I possibly could. But now... Now, all I need to know is that Lily and James, wherever they are, remember me. As long as I remember them, they should do the same.
I stop my slow pace, the last footstep echoing into the distance. The sun shines ahead of me, a blazing calm of natural beauty; I smile softly as I recall that perfect shade of red from the array of colors.
But the reason I stopped is far more than the sunset. It's the two tombstones before me, illuminated in shades of gold.

Lillian Potter- Loving mother, Gentle wife
James Potter- Caring father, Beloved husband

I kneel, ignoring the soft squish as my knee sinks into the muddy ground. Something crosses the corner of my eye as I place a bundle of lilies over one of the graves and rise again.
Sirius Black stands beside me, his face emotionless. We look at one another, then cast our gazes downwards.
"...Where do you think they are?" he asks quietly, almost inaudibly.
"I don't know."
"I asked where you think, Moony, not what you know."
I look at him. For the first time in ages, his eyes are glistening, tears threatening to roll down his narrow cheeks.
"...Right beside us. Watching us, making sure we don't follow their paths. Taking care of us."
We both automatically glance sideways. No one stands beside us but each other, of course.
Then, without warning, a grin spreads across Sirius' face. He pulls his trusty knife from his pocket, kneels, and begins carving into the tombstones.
Once he stands by me again, what he had been writing is shown.

Lillian Potter- Loving mother, Gentle wife, Red Head
James Potter- Caring father, Beloved husband, Prongs

I can't help but laugh slightly. Loving mother, Caring father? Those are no words that describe the two we knew so well. Those are only classifications; but these are identifications.
I clap him on the shoulder with a smile. Sirius waves solemnly to the tombstones, then walks off.
Pulling my coat around me to keep out the chilly November breeze, I follow. With one last glance at the tombstones, I can't help but think,
See you later, Prongs and Red Head.