House: Ravenclaw
Word Count: 1678
Category: Standard
Prompt(s): [Speech] "Life is too unpredictable to plan."
Year: Head
AU Warning(s): Detective/Spy AU, Muggle AU.
School: Ilvermorny
Theme: Detective/Spy Muggle AU
Prompt (Main): [Pairing] James Potter and Lily Evans (picked by Elaine)
Prompt (Extras): N/A
Year: Year 3
Word Count: 1678
AU Warning(s): Detective/Spy AU, Muggle AU.
"He's a mass murderer, Evans, how am I supposed to keep calm?"
Lily rolled her eyes, crawling quietly over to grab the pistol that lay in the darkest corner of the room. Her pistol, she remarked as she grew closer to it, noting the initials she'd carved into the side. She couldn't feel her leg, though whether that was due to the blood loss or the damp and cold floor was anyone's guess. Lily supposed it was a mix of the two, the cold floor doing nothing to help the blood that steadily flowed from the small bullet wound in her left leg.
This was really not a great place to be as a detective, in a cold, dark cellar, bleeding out from an injury that was bound to get infected. If she didn't die from the psychopath keeping them here, the infection would finish her off. The thought was ironic and slightly dismaying, and the fact that her partner was panicking did nothing to calm her nerves.
"Got it!" she exclaimed, latching her hand around the cool metal of her signature pistol. It was something familiar, and it did loads to calm her down. Lily turned to look at James with a small, tired grin, watching the corners of his lips turn up slightly. There was hope for them yet. But the gun felt lighter than it should have been, and so she flipped it around, pulling out the cartridge to find it empty.
"Shit." Her gaze darted almost frantically around the room, looking for anything else that could aid in their escape, or at least prove to be some kind of weapon. A loud sigh escaped her lips as she crawled back over to where James sat, she hated that she'd have to be the one to ruin his improved mood. Her head fell onto his shoulder sullenly, and she could see James raise an eyebrow inquisitively.
"What's wrong, love?"
"It's empty," she replied bitterly, chucking the gun back across the room. She'd just wasted energy crawling there and back for absolutely nothing. Lily supposed it was foolish to have crawled over there in the first place on nothing but an empty promise. Though, weren't they doomed from the start? They'd taken up this mission knowing they might not ever return, and yet it still hurt to think she'd never get out of this place.
"What you're saying is…" he trailed off, silently pleading with her to tell him any sort of good news. She dropped her gaze to her hands, where she nervously played with the wedding ring that rested perfectly on her finger. It couldn't hurt to delay the inevitable, switching topics had always been her specialty.
"You know, I'd never planned to be a detective," she chuckled, though there was barely any humour in her tone. "When I left high school I wanted to become a lawyer, I planned on getting a degree in law and starting a firm of my own. I didn't want to get married or have children. That would have only complicated my plan."
She let out a sigh. "But look where I am now."
A wry smile slipped onto James' face and he grabbed her hands in his. His head finally leant down onto her own, and even though she knew deep down how much danger they were in, it didn't hurt to feel calm in that moment.
"Life is too unpredictable to plan," he whispered into her hair. "I mean look at you, you're an ace detective, you've got a wonderful husband, and a son who absolutely adores you."
She chuckled slightly, tearing up a little bit at the thought of her son. Of Harry. She sighed, all of this was for him. To give him the best life possible. Harry with James' hair and her bright green eyes, and a wild spirit despite barely being over one year old. It was dismaying to think she'd never get to see him again.
"He'll be safe with Remus and Sirius," James mumbled, as if reading her thoughts. She gazed up at him slightly.
"Are you sure?"
"Trust me Lils, I know them. They may act stupid sometimes, but they'll take good care of him." He was adamant, and she supposed she should be too. If they didn't make it out then he'd be in good hands. They wouldn't get out, her mind echoed. Why would they be different than any of the other victims? Because she had a family, because she was a detective. This man was a psychopath, he wouldn't care either way.
Another sigh escaped her lips as she struggled into a standing position. Her eyes were practically on fire, filled with a determination neither of them had experienced since the beginning of the case. Lily looked again, all across the room, running her hand down each and every surface of the filthy room they were trapped in. You're a detective, she reminded herself, it's time you acted like one. She searched on and under the floorboards, inside and on top of the cabinets, and even on the ceiling. It took her a good while to search each and every inch of the place, an exhausting escapade that left her with absolutely nothing. No clues, no way of escape. Only the strange shower heads that hung on the wall. It made her feel hopeless, and she wondered faintly if this was what the other victims had felt like.
She was ready to just break down and give up, to cry until she fell asleep, to not even try and defend herself in the event of an attack. Lily slid down the cabinet, hugging her knees into her chest and resting her head atop her knees. This was it, they were truly and desperately chained to this miserable destiny. Fated to die just like all the other victims. Lily wondered momentarily if this was all a part of the psychopath's plan. She was sure he'd purposefully lured them into thinking they'd solved the case, only to entrap them with false hope. And she was almost certain she was correct in her assumptions.
"James?" she whispered into the silence as the room grew darker and darker. No response. Her gaze drifted over to where she knew he sat, squinting through the darkness and trying to make out his facial features. Perhaps he was asleep.
"James?" It was a whisper now, she didn't want to wake him. He needed rest.
"Yeah?" She smiled slightly.
"If we die, do you think they'll catch him?"
"Who?" James whispered, his lack of memory most likely due to the heavy lack of sleep they were both experiencing. In any other situation she would have laughed, but this was not the time for laughter.
"Voldemort," she replied, watching James cringe at her use of the name. He took a moment to ponder her original question, the silence stretching on for what felt like eons.
"I don't know," he said earnestly, his gaze moving up to the ceiling. "I hope so."
"I hope so too."
"Do you think Harry will be okay?" James asked, and she furrowed her brows in confusion.
"I thought you already answered that question," she replied, "you said he'd be fine with Remus and Sirius."
"I mean outside of that," he specified, "once he learns about us."
"Why wouldn't he know about us?"
"Not like that," he sighed, shuffling over to her. "Once he learns about how we died."
She snuggled into his side, hoping for some comfort as their room was once again basked in a small bit of light from an unknown source. Though this time it was different, this time there was someone on the other side of the door. Alarm bells rang through her head at that; no one knew they were there other than their captor. The man with a horribly deformed face that almost resembled a snake's. That was surely who was on the other side of the door. A low whistling sound hit her ears, coming from the shower faucets that she'd noted earlier. Did this man intend to drown them?
James' eyes were wide, however, and she immediately knew it was something else. She moved closer to him, worry etching itself onto her features.
"What is it?" she asked, worried when he gave her no reply. "James, what's wrong?"
The air smelled off, like the anesthesia they'd use during surgeries at the hospital. She remembered it faintly from when she'd gotten her tonsils removed as a child. And when she'd needed surgery on her knee that one time she'd broken it. Perhaps James had picked up on it earlier due to his long medical history of doing outrageously dangerous things. He was in the hospital a lot more often that she was, that was for sure. Perhaps Voldemort had a bit of a heart, she mused with a bit of gratitude filling her, he was making this as painless for them as possible. Though she pushed those thoughts away, he was the reason they were here in the first place.
She lost feeling in her legs right before James did, crumpling to the floor unable to move. Her vision was growing blurrier by the second, and the only thing she could think of was Harry. Her precious child who would grow up without her and James. It was sad to think she'd miss so many of his birthday, would miss his first crush, his first romantic partner. That she'd miss out on sending him to school each morning, or helping him plan for University, all the things she should have been able to do. But, at the end of the day, as her vision became darker and darker, she supposed none of that mattered. It didn't matter that the last thing she saw was the snake-like face of her captor and a bright green light. It didn't matter that he went after James first, or that she'd failed as a detective.
The only thing that mattered now was that Harry would be okay.