Chapter 33: A Solution

"I can't even begin to explain how sorry I am." Cressida holds her cup close to her chest, legs pulled underneath her as she lays against his front on the back porch hanging seat. "That I wasn't here. I know how awful it feels for me, so I can't even begin to imagine how it feels for you."

James rests his own cup on his thigh, his other arm draped around her front. He rocks the seat gently with his foot, keeping them at a constant, soothing pace. "I never thought that they would go just like they did. I always envisioned myself older and taking care of them till they died of age. With everything else going on, I thought that was the one thing I could count on."

Cressida's mouth twitches into a mournful smile, watching the field's grass sway under the soft breeze. "I wish I had been there. For so many reasons." The confidence she had in her expedition trickles. How much else has she missed? James had begged her not to go, but she still did. And this was the price. Five. Five people in her life have suddenly been killed, at least to her mind, in less than two days.

James leans his cheeks against the side of her head, his thumb stroking the inside of her elbow. "I'll take you to where we buried them later. If you want."

She nods softly. "If you're happy to take me." James nods. He lowers his head until his forehead presses against her temple, nose into her cheek. Cressida blinks slowly, leaning into his touch. Sensing both their desire for something closer, she takes his drink away along with her own and places them on the ground, away from the risk of being knocked over by their feet. Half-turning, Cressida wraps both her arms around his shoulders, her front facing his. "Do you want to talk about it, or is it something you want to be alone for?"

James pinches his brows at her question, his head dropping closer to his shoulder. "I don't mind talking about it. You understand it more than the others." She understands both meanings behind that. "They tell me they're in a better place. I know that. But I'm not. I want them here, not somewhere else where I can't see them."

"That's the problem with death," she whispers, more to herself than to James. "It's not the dead that suffers death. It's the living. We have to live with the pain of them not being here." Cressida sighs, running her hand up and down his arm soothingly. "I know this might be tough to bring up right now, but you should let Sirius back in. Fleamont and Euph were like parents to him as well. I think he's just as upset as you." James runs his tongue on the inside of his bottom lip, his head turning to the side. "You let him come to the funeral, at least, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," James breathes immediately. "I'm not an arsehole."

"Then are you really going to let a girl ruin your friendship?" she pushes. His eyes dart back to hers. "Please don't let yourself lose him. You mean too much to each other to lose everything over a matter of different opinions. An opinion that really had no importance because it was my decision to make, and I made it without any input from either of you."

"Did he tell you? What he told me?"

Cressida nods. "He did."

James presses his lips together tightly, his head falling back against the back of the chair swing. "I thought… I didn't realise that you felt that way. Maybe I was just too caught up in other things to take notice or maybe you hide it well. I knew you were fighting something, but I was naive and thought that if I told you that I loved you enough that you'd start to believe me. That I could make you feel better with a few words and hugs. I didn't realise…" He lifts his head back up, his lip pulled between his teeth as he examines her entire being. "Did you really think about doing those things?"

Cressida takes her time to answer. "I saw it as a solution. I had someone read my mind not long ago. They said it was screaming and I told them that it always has been. It's just a constant voice telling me the same things over and over again. And the only time I could escape it was with sleep. Death is just more permanent." The expression that befalls his face is so heartbreaking, that Cressida takes another moment to gather herself. James being upset makes her upset. "But, it's actually silent right now. I'm not sure how long it will be like that." She reaches up to his face, brushing the back of her fingers along his cheek for her own soothing. "I've learnt a few things about myself. One of them is that I hate bringing my friends pain. I would do anything to prevent that. And I've been using that thought. I'm not sure what news has spread yet, but, I watched three people that I care about die very recently and now your parents. It's like the world has been shoving death into my face so I know how much ache it brings. I never want to bring that pain to you or anybody.

"I learned from the same person that read my mind. I watched them go through every day in a horrible situation that they didn't want to be in. They fought every single day of their life. Not in a chivalrous way, but for themselves. They had the option to give in, but once they were offered a hand, they took it. It cost him his life, but he died strong. He taught me how to be strong. That's how I do want to die. I don't care if it's tomorrow or in fifty years, but I want to die in a way that people would be proud of me. That it isn't some look of pity that they give my grave. I battle myself a lot trying to determine if I'm worth something. And as much as I try to preach that we determine our own worth, I think I'll start listening to people when they tell me I am."

She finishes with a small smile down at her lap. It felt selfish to rabble on about herself whilst James opens to her about his mourning, but it's a relief to both herself, and she hopes for him.

James leans forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm so unbelievably happy to hear that, but please open to me more as well. I know this sounds selfish because you must have been in so much pain, but you have no idea how much it hurt to hear what he told me."

She immediately rewinds her arms around him, digging her face into his chest. "I don't like hurting you," she hisses lowly. "Stop hurting because of me." They embrace so tightly that Cressida feels her lungs constrict. Leaning back, she cups his jaw. "You were stupid for falling in love with me."

"Yet it's been worth every second of it."

Cressida smiles, turning herself to lean back against his far shoulder to watch the field once more. "You've been worth every second of it too." Her arm raises, a finger pointing into the field. "You know, that's where I first realised I loved you. I screamed it at the top of my lungs."

"That's quite dramatic," he whispers mirthfully. "But I thought it was when we went ice skating that Christmas?"

"Hm, that's when I first realised that I had feelings for you. The field is when I realised that they wouldn't be going away any time soon. I am glad I chose a different time to tell you, I don't think my words were all that romantic."

"Oh, come on. Can't leave me like that. What did you say?"

'I'm in love with a bigoted, arrogant, boastful but annoyingly clever man who is in love with another woman!'

She snorts at the memory, shaking her head. "And if you think that was dramatic, it was the same day that I got shot by that hunter. It was an eventful afternoon." As her mind reels through her teenage memories, she muses, "We should go to France one day again. For our honeymoon, perhaps?"

"So you still want to get married?"

She nearly leaps off of him. With an aghast expression, she demands, "What do you mean? Of course I want to!"

James laughs gently, picking up her left hand. "You haven't asked for your ring back." Cressida stares at her empty ring finger. She had given it back to James for safekeeping the night before she left.

"That's because I forget about jewellery," she laughs in the same manner. "Which is why I never usually take it off to begin with." She switches their hold, taking his own wrist where her silver bracelet sits. "Are you willing to give it back?" she questions with a smirk.

He purses his lips, running his thumb along the thin chain in contemplation. "Maybe. I like having it, it reminds me of you."

Cressida smiles affectionately, leaning back down onto his shoulder. "Why don't I get you something then. A ring?"

"I'd like a ring."

They sit and talk for a while, just living in the comfort of the other's presence. As the sun begins to fall into its afternoon positioning, James offers to take her to his parents' grave. They walk the entire way, their hands joined, all the way into town and a little further to the cemetery that they wished the be buried at. This town had been their home for nearly forty years, and they had fallen in love with the small community. Their grave was a jointed one, with fresh flowers already lain so she didn't add her own, knowing that it was probably James who lay them there.

As they stood over the stone, James turned to her, burying his face into her shoulder. He tried so hard not to make a noise, but in the quietness of the cemetery she could hear his pain all too well. Cressida refused to move an inch until he was comfortable enough to lift his face which was red-stained and glossy. She began to cry too, though she didn't hide her face. She cried for Regulus, for Fabian, Gideon, Euphemia, Fleamont. She cried for herself, having to feel the pain of their absence.

But there is one line that breaks her enough that she falls to her knees.

"Please don't ever make me stand over your grave."

Just another thank you again for awesome reviews. The end of this story is near and though I am not planning on a sequel in any form, I am continuing fanficiton as well as original stuff (which is much better written since I have time to edit).