In all the books she had read, there was always mention of grief being a five stage process, all of which Talia knew by heart. However, despite holding on to such knowledge and seeing information about it time and time again, for her it felt as if there were more stages to it. Or at least she added to it over the course of her life.

Her first one was sudden calm, exactly like the calm before the storm. Her head would be clear, she would focus on the details she knew, connections forming inside her head even under the most intense pressure. She could calculate certain things, knew how her enemies would act or react based on what she did. While she usually had the shock value on her side, people most of the time being taken by surprise by her attitude or actions, she still held the upper hand and she knew how to latch onto that with all her might and more importantly, use it to her advantage.

However ever since the attacks increased and everyone was forced into hiding, more things shifted inside of her. She did not have facts, she was running away, she was not facing anything head on and it irked her to no end. She needed to know, she needed to control the situation.

And it was in those moments when she fell into her next stage, worry.

As she paced the Tonks house waiting on her friends to bring Harry to safety, she was distraught. She only agreed to be there so she could help out in case one of them was severely injured and needed immediate medical care. But not knowing how everything was progressing out on the field made her increasingly agitated.

That coupled with Talbott being at the Burrow, surveying the terrain, she felt as if she could not handle focusing in more places than one.

Going outside once more, she burned another cigarette against her lips, ears listening in, eyes on constant lookout. Looking up at the night sky she wondered when this worrying state actually became a part of her.

While yes, she had been on the run all her life, she could not remember being worried, not even for herself. She was at the core, during her school years, like any teen would have been. Spiteful, reckless at times despite what Snape taught her, spitfire for certain. She was stubborn to a point it was impossible to work with her in any given moment.

But as she started wanting more, wanting to actually return to England, things slowly shifting inside a heart she denied having. Groaning, she cursed out loud. Talbott, it was Talbott that made her like this. Worried sick, putting others first, pushing her boundaries despite not knowing what was beyond them.

Control, more control she had lost.

She became fearful, soft, caring. Or maybe she was all those things, just did not know how to reach deep within herself.

But it was dangerous, she knew it. Leaning against the wall, feeling the cold bricks against the fabric of her shirt, she actually stood there thinking for the first time what the long journey in front of her meant. She would more than likely survive the war, no matter the outcome. She would outlive most of them for certain. Surely, she nodded to herself accepting the grim reality. She had to right? Had to go above and beyond, fight and claw her way out, that or accept defeat which she could not.

She had to force herself to be more distant, reluctant in letting anyone close, it would be torture. Her an immortal and others just fleeting painful memories.

As the first person passed the barrier, Talia took a deep breath, throwing the cigarette away, counting. As long as no one yelled out her name, she was not needed as far as she was concerned. She heard Remus questioning Harry yet she did not care. She heard Tonks's voice but that still did not make her move.

George, she heard something about George being hurt, Talia finally walking inside. Hands pulled her closer to him, her kneeling next to him far too forcefully, assessing the wound. There was not much she could do, at least not in restoring severed parts.

The rest looked at her, her eyes lighting up "I can only heal what is, not what isn't." was all she said.

When Bill and Fleur arrived, Bill looked at everyone, his words heavy as they left his chest. Talia stood there looking at him, shaking her head in denial.

"No, Moody can't be dead." It left her mouth despite her. She should not have uttered it, she should have taken the news as it was given and just move on.

But…this was Moody.

Moody who gave her a chance, who saw more in her, who knew what to say to her, who could at least control her anger and her way of thinking. Moody who was their leader, who knew wrong from right.

Bill glanced at her, a worried look playing in his eyes, him whispering "I'm sorry." As if it was his fault, as if he cast the spell that ended his life. Talia still shook her head, refusing to hear anything more on the subject.

As they made their way to the Burrow, Talbott greeted them, ensuring everyone the perimeter was safe and there was no sign of anyone. As he took in the news, his face dropped, eyes searching everyone as if someone else might actually tell him differently.

As everyone gathered inside the house, Talia still stood outside, her eyes locked with Talbott's. He was trying so hard to conceal what he was feeling, but she knew, she could read him as she slowly approached, arms wrapping around him, trying to contain his body entirely as he cried silently.

Hushing him softly, she ran her hand up and down his back, repeating the motion until she felt her palm go numb, but she still did not stop. However her eyes burned with fire and fury, her touch hot against his body as she whispered "Don't worry, I got you. No one will hurt you anymore, I'll kill them all if they try."

Releasing her as if something shocked him, he searched her face, almost taking a step back out of instinct at the sight of her anger "Talia calm down."

"No." she whispered, fire spreading from the palm of her hands, her skin hotter to the touch. Lifting her hands to cup his face, Talbott's eyes widened "Why are you scared? Haven't I told you before? I won't let a flame touch you." The tears on his cheeks evaporated against her touch, however only warmth engulfed him "I can't lose you too." Her eyes softened as she continued to watch him, fingers caressing his face.

Stepping outside, Bill watched the scene before his eyes for a few moments before he finally made his presence known "Is everything alright?"

Talbott nodded, Talia turning to look at him "Please tell me there's something to drink in this house."

Nodding, he tried to smile, however he could not, instead walking inside to grab a drink. Truth be told he needed it as well. His mother asked, of course she did, but in the end Bill came outside without too many questions being answered.

They sat down on the ground, Bill looking at Talia as he passed her the bottle first "Please don't burn anything. I grew up here you know."

Sighing, she closed her eyes, fire diming slightly, Talbott reaching out for her hand, thumb stroking her skin. Flames subsided entirely, her opening a blurry pair eyes to snatch the bottle Bill was holding out for her, however she did not let go of Talbott's hand. Taking a few good gulps, she passed it on, Talbott drinking before offering the bottle to Bill.

They remained silent, none of them saying a word as conversations happened inside the house.

Breaking the silence, Talia looked at them, her hand leaving Talbott's "Think they're still out there?"

"Why?" Bill asked as he continued the same rhythm with the bottle.

"I want to go get his body, give him a proper burial." The men next to her tensed, both sharing a look amongst themselves "It should be safe right? In and out?"

Bargaining, a stage she was not familiar with. Inside her own head she knew it was a crazy thought, she was smarter than the words leaving her mouth and the emotions hammering inside of her. It was far too early to leave, not safe at all, however she forced the logical part of her brain to shut down as the reality sunk in.

Looking at them, her eyes widened, however she was not quite there yet, not crying "He's out there, Merlin knows where. His body might be in a ditch." Inhaling shakily, she tried to not keep that imagine inside her head "He's all alone."

"He's dead Talia." Bill suddenly snapped, regret shining on his face a second later as he looked at her. Running a hand through his hair, he uttered a quick apology, but he knew the damage was done. But in all honesty, even he was scared of what she might do next, of what she was capable of. Or better yet what further damage she could do. They might not have been on the same missions, but he did hear about the safe house that was attacked, about the fire that baffled the Muggle firefighters. His father knew how many Muggles did not make it out, he could only hope Talia did not find out.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, Talia hiding her face in the palm of her hands "I can't do this anymore." She uttered, more to herself than anything. Bringing her to his chest, Talbott gently stroke her hair, kissing the crown of her head.

Bill gave him an apologetic look, Talbott only giving him a small nod as he whispered in Talia's hair "I know it hurts, but there's nothing you can do, not now at least." Her arms wrapped around his torso, giving herself a few moments before she lifted her head, nodding.

She knew, both Talbott and Bill knew she knew, but they also were aware everyone processed such events differently. And while Talia furiously rubbed her face to erase the tears, they knew that once alone, they would all act differently, more than like yes, ball their eyes out until sunrise, yet still come out differently the next day, all with another approach and thing in mind.

Depression did not look good on her.

"Is it now a bad time to tell you I want you both here for the following days?"

Talia's brows shot up, Talbott giving him a puzzled look which caused Bill to let out a bitter sounding laugh "Well on the thirty-first there's Harry's birthday and on the first of August me and Fleur decided to have our wedding. Sorry for having to tell you like this."

Snatching the bottle from Bill, Talia poured a little on the ground, uttering Moody's full name before she lifted it looking at Bill "For you and Fleur, for love."

Talbott remained a bit skeptical as he watched the two drink, eyes shifting between them "Are you certain this is the best move Bill?"

"No time like the present my friend." Getting up, he left the bottle with them "I need to check up on my future wife. Really hope you will be here, honestly." Offering them a small, yet sincere smile, he left as he walked inside.

Giving her the bottle, Talbott turned to look at her "What do you think?"

"That he won't forgive us ever if we aren't there."

Scoffing, he nodded, a bit annoyed, but he also understood the reasoning behind it in a sense "I know it's silly but are you going to be alright?"

Shaking her head, Talia took a swing from the bottle before giving it to Talbott "No, I don't think I'll ever get used to it. I know he's dead you know, but how to I go about accepting that this will be it? That this is it?"

"No time like the present." He swallowed bitterly forcing the alcohol inside his body, mind already hazy with too many thoughts.

She did not respond to that, Talbott stealing glances her way "I need you to listen to me, carefully. I now know and understand why you sent me away to Romania." Her eyes focused on him "I got through to Felix, he will leave as soon as I find an opportunity. Talbott" she sat up straighter, facing him entirely, him shaking his head before she even said it "I need you to go with him."

"No." he bit down on his inner cheek, hair going in his eyes with the motion of his head "No Talia, I'm not going anywhere. I'm seeing this through."

"Talbott" she spoke his name abruptly, leaning in "I can't fight, I can't do it. I won't be able to make the right decisions. And if something were to happen to you…"

"You will move on, you're stronger than this."

Pushing him against the ground, she shook her head once before her lips crashed on top of his, violently, demanding, Talbott grabbing a fistful of hair, mind blurring around the edges as he kissed her back, pulling her on top of him, holding her close.

Anything, let it be anything else other than pain. Let it be a moment of madness, a moment of losing oneself, a moment in between everything. Let it be something, for pain was not something they could or wanted to feel.

Acceptance also was not her shade.