Okay. This was written for one of the sweetest people I have ever met. It was your birthday last week, and I wanted to give you a little fic. It started out as a wolfstar, but I got carried away, so it's... not really that anymore, but yeah. Here you go, love. You're awesome.

Warnings: Character death, near death situations (five of them)

Word Count (excluding AN): 3040

Five Times Death Came for Sirius and One Time He Didn't

The Bus

"JAMES!" Sirius called as he burst into the dorm room he shared with James, dropping his backpack from his shoulder and kicking his boots off, much to James's dismay. He then jumped onto his bed and grabbed the nearest pillow, his eyes bright and chest heaving from his excitement. "James, I just met the love of my life."

James raised an eyebrow but didn't close his book. He didn't even bother prompting Sirius to tell more; he knew his best mate would just start recounting the story.

"He was beautiful. Had tawny curls that framed his face just so perfectly," Sirius started, unable to keep the grin off of his face as he described the man he had met. "And this smile. Oh James, his smile was beautiful. I swear, he could have starred in a dental commercial with how utterly gorgeous it was!"

James tuned Sirius out—it wasn't as if he weren't interested in his friend's love life, but he had heard Sirius going on and on about far too many guys to really… well… care at this point. So he let Sirius talk, but stopped listening and continued reading. Chances were, Sirius would go on a single date with the bloke, but then forget all about him.

After a few minutes of unadulterated rambling, James cut in. "Did you get his number?" he asked, finally looking up at his friend, who was still holding the pillow tight to his chest.

Sirius's smile dropped, and a look of intrigue crossed over his aristocratic features. "That's the thing. He seemed to just… disappear into nothing."

James raised an eyebrow again, finally closing his book and setting it to the side. Sirius always got their numbers—James had never known him to not get a guy's number.

"Yeah. He just pulled me out of the way of a bus, told me that he wasn't ready for me to die yet, smiled, and disappeared," Sirius said, his eyes bright as he leaned forward. "The bloke just saves my life, then poof," he waves his hands to illustrated his words, "he's gone."

A frown crosses over James's features. "He saved your life?" he asked incredulously. Sirius grinned, nodding his head vigorously enough to encourage a bit of hair to escape his ponytail.

"Nicked me right out from in front of that bus. I thought I was a goner, but there he was," Sirius explained before a dreamy smile overtook his lips. He leaned against his bed frame, still clutching the pillow. "I hope I see him again."

James simply shrugged and picked up his book again, turning to the page he had previously been on. "If it's meant to be, then you will."

.

The Cheesecake

"Mate. I met him again," Sirius said, his voice happy enough for James to look up from his meal. Sirius was standing in front of him, lunch platter in hand, lips stretched into a smile.

James quickly made space on the table for Sirius's food before picking up his fork again. "Who?"

Sirius laughed, sitting down and starting on his potatoes. "The guy from last week. He saved me again. Looked even prettier this time. He was wearing a black turtleneck shirt, James. A tight, black turtleneck."

James rolled his eyes. "Saved you again? What happened this time… another bus?" he asked, still not entirely believing Sirius about the last time—his best mate was good at exaggerating.

"Wanker," Sirius muttered under his breath before shaking his head. "I was carrying a plate with this tasty looking cheesecake on it, and he just shows up and takes the plate out of my hands."

"The cheesecake was going to kill you?" James asked with a laugh.

It was Sirius's turn to roll his eyes, and he did it dramatically. "Peanuts. It had peanuts in it, and this bloke told me that he wasn't ready for me to die, again."

James's amusement quickly dropped from his face, and he frowned properly. Sirius rarely told anyone about his allergy—really just James, Lily, and Peter, their next door neighbor. To have a stranger come in knowing something so personal about Sirius was a bit concerning.

"Stalker much?" James questioned under his breath, but Sirius shook his head.

"No… I think it's fate."

.

The Stairs

James stopped just short of the stairs, turning to Sirius with a frown, his hands checking his pockets. "I forgot my mobile," he said, turning back to their dorm, going down the long hallway.

It didn't take him long to unlock their door and find his phone, and he was soon re-locking the door. Just as he was taking the key out and putting it in his pocket, he heard loud thumps coming from the staircase accompanied by swearing.

Panic welled up in James, and he started jogging towards the staircase, worried that Sirius had fallen down the staircase, maybe even broken something.

Then he heard a voice he had never heard before. It was melodious and smooth. "Careful, love. I'm not ready for you to die yet," the man said calmly, and James's eyes widened.

It was the man Sirius had been talking about, James was certain, but when he rounded the corner, Sirius was sitting on the staircase alone, a bit of blood trickling down from his forehead and a goofy smile on his lips.

"Where is he?" James asked, hurrying down the steps to Sirius, biting his lip as he leaned forward to inspect his wound.

Sirius slapped James's hand away. "M'fine," he said before standing up and looking at James with wonder in his eyes. "He's gone. Disappeared. Came to save me and just left."

James glanced around the room—he hadn't heard a door open and close, he hadn't even heard footsteps walking away from Sirius. It truly seemed as if the man had just vanished into thin air.

"C'mon," James finally said, grabbing Sirius's arm and tugging him back up the stairs. "Let's get your forehead cleaned up, then we can go meet Lily and Marlene for dinner."

.

The Pool

James had just sat down with Lily when he got the call. As Sirius's only emergency contact, he made it a point to answer every unknown number that called him—just in case it was about Sirius.

His face paled as an officer started explaining what had happened, and he stood up in a rush, covering the microphone of his mobile, leaning over to Lily. "Sirius nearly drowned, he's at the hospital now," he said in a whisper.

Lily's eyebrows furrowed and she stood up, grabbing her purse. "I'll drive," she said simply, knowing James would be too worried to drive safely.

He nodded in thanks before turning his attention back to the phone, letting Lily lead him out of the restaurant and to the car. It was only when they were on the way to the hospital that James said a final, "thank you," and hung up the phone.

Lily was silent, but she reached her left hand over the center console to grab his—he held onto her like a lifeline.

"He was at a party," James said softly, needing to fill the silence. His stomach twisted and he squeezed her hand. "Got a bit too sloshed and fell in the pool, hitting his head. Apparently some bloke jumped in after him and pulled him out, did the whole CPR and mouth to mouth thing, and then disappeared."

His voice petered out, but he still held onto her as she drove, as they walked into the hospital, as they got Sirius's room number, and as they finally saw Sirius, IV lines hooked to his arms. He was asleep, his head bandaged and his body looking frail.

Lily squeezed James's hand before letting him go, staying by the door as James stepped up to the bed. "Idiot," he whispered, looking down at Sirius before sinking into one of the nearby chairs. "Don't do this to me. I can't lose you."

At hearing James's voice, Sirius groaned, bringing one of his hands up to rub his eyes, obviously wincing at the movement. "Jamie?" he croaked, his own voice weak.

James took in a quick breath before leaning forward. "Yeah, mate. I'm here," he said, propping his elbows up on the side of the bed. "I'll always be here."

Sirius smiled, letting his arm drop back down, his eyes still closed. "He saved me again. Told me his name too."

Something twisted in James's chest, a worry about this man, a worry about how often Sirius had been in danger lately, but he pushed it aside. He needed to be there for his best mate. For his brother. "What's his name?"

The smile on Sirius's lips widened for a moment. "Remus," he murmured before his breathing evened out and he fell asleep, the smile still in place.

James just shook his head, his worry building up. Needing the connection, he grabbed Sirius's hand, his forehead resting on the side of the bed. It was all he could do to keep from crying.

.

The Fire

The last thing James had expected when he went to bed, roughly a week after the pool incident, was to wake up surrounded by flames.

He felt heavy, far more lethargic than anytime he could recall, and his lungs felt like they were going to burst. Pressure and heat pushed in on him from all sides, and he cried out weakly when a flame licked at his calf.

The fire alarm was blaring, leaving James to wonder how on he hadn't woken up to it, and smoke clogged up the air. It wasn't until he heard someone screaming next door that he was hit with a wave of adrenaline.

Rolling off the bed and crouching low to the floor, he checked the room for any sign of Sirius. Failing to see his best mate, he began for the door, only to be met with a wall of flames. Panic welled up in his chest, and he turned around in the room, looking for an escape route, hearing another scream of pain sounding from the room beside him—Peter's room.

"Peter!" he yelled, nearing the wall, his eyes scanning the room for something he could use. When his gaze landed on Sirius's guitar case, he made a soft triumphant noise. His thoughts were interrupted by a hacking cough, nearly doubling him over. After a few seconds, he covered his nose with his shirt before turning back to the wall. "Stand back. I'm breaking through."

He didn't know if Peter had heard him, but he didn't have time to check. Picking up the hard guitar case, he lunged for the wall, thrusting his makeshift tool in front of him as hard as he could. The wall, thin and weakened from the fire, caved easily, and soon James was rushing towards a Peter covered in burns with tears in his eyes.

"Sirius…" Peter asked, pausing to cough. "Did he make it out?"

Another bout of worry tugged at James's chest, and he looked down. "I.. don't know where he is," he managed just before another coughing fit attacked his lungs. He could barely breathe, and he felt like he was going to throw up.

The wall behind James crumbled completely, sending a fresh wave of flames into the room, kicking up smoke and making the two boys cough. "We need to get out of here," Peter managed, his small eyes jumping around the room, looking for an escaped. They were surrounded by flames on all sides.

James was about to answer when their door was kicked in, men in fire suites spreading out through the room. "Come on!" one of them yelled, waving his hand, gesturing the two boys to follow him. "We've got an escape route cleared."

Pausing only to grab Peter's arm, James ran to the man, praying that Sirius had already gotten out. Just as they had started down the hallway, taking the exact steps as the fireman in front of them, lest they put too much weight on a crumbling section of the floor, James was hit with another coughing fit, doubling him over and bringing tears to his eyes.

He vaguely felt a fireman lifting him up and throwing him over his shoulder, but he felt light—too light. He felt like he was floating away, yet being dragged down all at the same time, his lungs and chest burning.

He didn't know how they had made it out of the building, but when they did, the fresh air burned almost as bad as the flames.

The fireman set James down on a gurney, near one of the ambulances, before rushing back into the building. Outside was chaos, people screaming, sirens whirring. A whole bustle of activity was happening around James, but he barely recognized it all.

His eyes were too caught on Sirius, pushing his way through the crowd, his face twisted in fear and agony.

Sirius was alive.

He was coming towards James, and alive.

Relief flooded over James when he felt Sirius grabbing at him, his hands, his shoulders, his face, just as relieved to see James as James was to see him.

"He stopped me. Remus wouldn't let me go in to save you," he was saying in a panicked voice, tears streaming down his face. "Fuck, James. I thought I had lost you."

Unable to do much more, James smiled and weakly squeezed Sirius's hand. "You aren't getting rid of me that easily," he managed, his voice weak and broken by a series of coughs. It didn't matter though.

Sirius was safe, and that's all that James cared about.

.

Meeting Death

Sirius had just stepped out of the hospital room James was being kept in, but only because James had practically commanded him to—Sirius needed something to eat. James wasn't about to let Sirius stop taking care of himself just because he was in the hospital.

After a ragged cough interrupted his thoughts, James looked up at the ceiling. Everything hurt, burned really, and he still felt heavy, though his mind felt light. It was one of the strangest things he had ever experienced, and he didn't like it.

The door to his room opened, and James glanced over to see who it was. He knew it couldn't be Sirius, as he had told his best mate not to come back until he had eaten a full meal, and he had only been gone about five minutes, so James suspected it would be a doctor, giving him an update on his condition.

So far, none of his updates had been good. He had inhaled an unhealthy amount of smoke, and suffered burns both externally and internally.

The visitor was neither Sirius nor a doctor. He was a young man, probably about James's age, wearing tan trousers and a black turtleneck. His tawny hair curled almost delicately around his face, and his smile rested on soft pink lips. His face was separated into sections by thin, light scars, and his amber eyes nearly glowed in the low light of the hospital room.

"You're Remus," James said after looking the stranger over. He had heard Sirius gush about him enough to recognize him on the spot. The familiar pang of worry sprung up in his chest at just the idea of this man, but it was interrupted by another coughing attack.

Remus smiled softly and slowly inched into the room, his hands resting casually in his pockets. Somehow, James knew he should be afraid, but he wasn't—Remus was too calm and pleasant to warrant proper fear.

"Yes. That is one of my names," he said softly. Soon, Remus was sitting in a chair beside James's bed.

James turned his attention back up to the ceiling. "I've heard you speaking before. You told Sirius that you weren't ready for him to die yet."

He felt the air around Remus shift to something sadder, but he didn't look at the man. He kept his gaze steadily above him, trying to keep his breathing as even as possible.

"It wasn't his time. It won't be for a while," Remus murmured.

James closed his eyes, a familiar wave of nausea washing over him. Since the day before, since the fire, nausea had been his constant companion. Nothing the doctors did seemed to help.

"How do you know?" James asked weakly, his eyes still shut tight.

He heard Remus shifting in his seat, the man almost seeming uncomfortable. "Remus isn't my name. Well, it's one of them, but it's not my most popular. It's the one I use when mortals are desperate to know me, but unwilling to accept what I am."

James's muscles tightened, and he opened his eyes. "What are you?"

Silence filled the room for a moment before Remus spoke, his voice both timid and sure. "Death."

Dread filled James's stomach, and the nausea grew, but he swallowed it down, surprised to feel something like relief tugging at his heart. "You're not here for Sirius," he said simply, already accepting what he knew was to come.

"No, James. I'm not."

James almost laughed, but coughed instead, turning to his side as his stomach tightened, unable to hold himself up properly. "The fire… did more damage to me than… the doctors said." It wasn't a question.

James cracked his eyes open to see Remus—Death—giving James a sad smile. "Unfortunately," he said softly, and James nodded.

"Can I say goodbye?" he asked, his voice broken. He knew he sounded like a child, but he didn't care.

There was sympathy in Death's eyes, but he still shook his head. "I'm sorry James. Your body won't live that long."

James blinked back tears and curled into himself. He knew Death was right, he could feel it in how heavy his limbs were, yet how detached his mind felt. He accepted it, even if he didn't want to. There was no use holding onto something that was broken.

"Take my hand," Death said softly, reaching his hand forward elegantly, his fingers outstretched to James. "I'll take you on."

Not seeing the point in refusing, especially as it got harder and harder to breath, James lifted his hand.

As soon as he touched Death, James felt light.