A/N: I've been working on this idea for about four days, but I just finished it now. Yes, it is sad, yes, it is tragic, and yes, it is a deathfic. I don't know why I'm so mean to Marshall - I freakin love the guy. I want a Marshall :) *ahem* Anyway. Moving on. Please review!
Disclaimer: I don't own How I Met Your Mother, Marshall Eriksen, Lily Aldrin or any of the other characters; I did, however, write this fic. If you recognize it, it isn't mine.
XXX
Rain tapped calmly against the window of the silent apartment as the owner sat, motionless, on the couch. She was alone, legs folded beneath her, staring ahead at nothing. On her small frame was a gray sweatshirt reading, "Lily and Marshall: Rockin' it since '96".
She didn't know how long she had been there, but she didn't care. Ted and Robin had come over earlier to hug her and tell her how beautiful the funeral was, but had reluctantly left after the insistence that she just wanted to be alone. She hadn't seen Barney since the hospital.
She tugged the sweatshirt closer to her body, fending off the coming chill. Tugging it up to her face and closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, smelling him throughout the fabric. Her heart ached, physically and mentally.
She pulled her legs towards her body as far as they would go and rested her chin on her knees, wrapping her arms around herself. Glancing around the apartment, her eyes came to rest on a wedding picture. She stared at Marshall for a long time. She was lost without him; as long as she could remember, it had been Marshall and Lily. Now it was just Lily.
She sniffled, but didn't cry. It seemed to her there couldn't be any tears left in her eyes. The fact that she had, just yesterday, been forced to bury the love of her life six feet underground, hadn't sunk in until after Ted and Robin left. She had been sitting here since then, the hole in her chest growing larger with every minute that she didn't hear his voice, see his smile, feel his warmth next to her. She would have given anything to feel his arms around her; all she wanted was one of his hugs, but, ironically, if he had been there to give her one, she wouldn't have been sad enough to need it.
She wouldn't have been sad at all.
She knew he would want her to move on – after a respectable time, of course – but she wouldn't. There was no one remotely comparable to Marshall, and she wouldn't have it any other way. She didn't want to forget him.
Sitting by herself and wishing he was here would only make it worse, she knew, but she couldn't get over how unfair it was. You always hear about the policeman shot down in the line of duty or the schoolteacher brought down by cancer, but the stories that never make the news are sometimes the most tragic of all.
Like the one about the man, walking home one night from the grocery store with a jar of olives for his pregnant wife. The one who had studied hard at law school so he could make a good home for his family, whose sole purpose was to be there when his friends needed him to be. How he was pulled into a side alley as he was walking home, late at night, and beaten to death, because the six drunken men had decided to split all twenty-seven dollars and sixty-eight cents he had had in his wallet.
How someone had found him lying there and called an ambulance, staying with him at the hospital until Lily showed up, crying and terrified.
Robin had come as soon as she found out, Ted and Barney arriving not long after she had. As Robin had found the room she'd been directed to, however, a sobbing Lily was exiting.
Marshall had just died. He had never woken up.
A soft bump brought Lily back to the present. The baby had been kicking a lot recently, almost as though he realized something was amiss. She found herself turning to tell Marshall about it before remembering that he wasn't there. She sighed dejectedly, realizing again how much she missed him.
She recalled her first Thanksgiving at the Eriksen's house, when he came and found her at the jailhouse. She remembered the scare they had when they thought she was pregnant, and what she had told him then.
"I don't care where our kids grow up, as long as they have you for a father."
There was something else to add to the list of things that wouldn't happen with Marshall gone.
That word annoyed her to no end. Gone. Marshall was dead, and nothing would change that, so there was no reason to complicate matters by refusing to say it. Fancy words and half-meant condolences didn't make it hurt any less.
It didn't bring Marshall back.
Still, Lily didn't cry again until a week later, when the tombstone arrived in St. Cloud. Reading the engraving made everything entirely too real. Too final.
Marshall Eriksen
Loving husband and father
1978-2011
XXX
A/N: Yes, I know, Marshall is a big guy, and I'll admit, it is very unlikely that he would be beaten to death on his way home from the grocery store, but (A) this is a fanfiction, (2) I was in the mood to write something reeeally sad, and (E Pluribus Unum) that's why I said there were six of them. Anyhow, please review!