#3.30.2021.

DEATH AND GRIEF TW

After one gruesome death is put on display, the light of the television screens puts the crowd in a collective trance, and Remus Warden unknowingly holds his breath. He watches two men die and feels nothing for them, only immense dread for what he knows is to come; he would easily trade a million fucking lives for his sister’s, would eagerly exchange an endless number of unfortunate souls from Pestilence & Famine if it only meant Juno’s face didn’t appear on that fucking screen. She is Death’s closing act, the reappearance of the stolen Warden Seraphim a sight to fucking behold, parading her in her family’s face as they watch her die, but not without honour. Terse French is a fucking call to action to her brothers: Venger moi frères. Her final words run on repeat and repeat in his head, drowning out nearly everything else as his world falls apart around him. Watching life drain from Juno’s face tears apart the facade the Wardens like to hide behind, their tendency to paint themselves immortal proven false before all their enemies. The only thing Remus knows for certain as screens go black and coffins raise is that he won’t let anyone touch his fucking family again.

Screams pierce the air, a broken sound, the unnatural cries of Gabrielle Warden in mourning ringing through the near fully reclaimed warehouse. Remus knows the vivid memory of this night will haunt him, right alongside all the signs he didn’t see beforehand, all the paths he could’ve taken if only he had known they existed. Though each gang loses someone tonight, War loses the most, a member of their family stolen, the only daughter of their line killed before their eyes. When Remus arrives on scene at their parents’ London home, he is silent, feeling numb, still unable to fully grasp the reality of the tragedy. One foot inside familiar place, inside perceived safety ( if such a luxury exists anymore ), and walls come tumbling down, Remus unable to stop hot tears from falling when he sees his parents, feels their hearts break as he holds them.

But it’s Saint he worries for, the youngest Warden, always one to blame himself when things go wrong — and tonight is a horror, a fucking nightmare brought to life. “Et mon frère?” And my brother? he asks Gabrielle, who clings to him harder than she ever has. It’s Warlock who points to their youngest, the silhouette of Saint Warden seen through back door window, an evening of chain smoking already begun without Remus’ help. Already proven unable to protect one sibling, more than ever before the eldest Warden feels a fucking violent urge to seek out his brother, willing to do anything to keep his family from suffering like this, unwilling to sit at the wayside helplessly again.