Fear and False Gods
Disclaimer: The words are mine, but the Harry Potter universe and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling, et al.
Content Notes: Allusion to unspecified complications of childbirth.
James slid his fingers through her damp hair, heart like a lead weight in his chest. Tears were thick in his throat, as he drew the sweat from her brow with a spell his mother had once used on him and he tried to muster the strength she needed, the strength he should have had. It was the only thing anyone expected of him, but James looked rubbish and his hands shook as he listened to her huff and puff, as he watched the water gather in her eyes. The pregnancy had been easy and uncomplicated, except for the threat to their lives-and their unborn child's. James had assumed Voldemort would be the only threat to his family, but Healer Kadinsky had expressed concern about Lily when the Pain Relief Potion had failed and after the initial examination, she'd looked more concerned than ever. There was something wrong with the baby, she'd said, and then she'd left the room with only a cursory assurance. James had almost chased after her, but Lily had clutched his hand and asked him to stay. They'd come too far for anything to happen to their son, for anything to hurt him. They'd worked too hard to protect him. "Lily..." he murmured. "Evans, it's going to be okay."
"Potter," she corrected him. "You might've wimped out a little, but I'm not about to leave you because of it." She took a deep, strained breath and he grasped her hand, let her squeeze his fingers tight. "You're still here, and it's going to be okay." Despite her words, she sounded terrified. James kissed strands of her hair and the damp skin at her temple because he knew that if he spoke again, he'd never convince her that he believed it as strongly as she did. James had summoned bravado for four straight years-summoned it for Lily and for himself, even after the veneer had worn thin on his well-crafted image, but he couldn't summon an ounce now. He'd run out, or else he'd been honest for too long because he had no false face for her, just the fear that something might happen to his wife or to his child.
Nothing did, thank God. Healer Kadinsky returned with a Mediwizard, and she performed a series of spells so rapid that James couldn't remember even one, but he felt them bristle in the air and he watched Lily as the magic slid, sharp as a scalpel through her body. Her free hand had slid to her stomach-a swift, instinctive gesture that made his breath come short and his heart grow tender, made his eyes fly to Kadinsky's face, but the Healer hissed some orders at her assistant and continued with the hawk-like focus that had made her the best in her field. James had still noticed the sweat on her brow, and he'd clutched Lily's hand a little harder as she forced each breath out. He tried to soothe her, but the words felt like nonsense on his lips and her jaw was clenched so tight, his own teeth hurt. He couldn't imagine the pain of it-could only guess at it, based on how the charms felt against his own skin and how her lips looked, how her eyes did. He wished they could trade places, though James doubted he could have been as strong as she was. Even after the Healer put the baby in her arms, James could scarcely hold still, or breathe and he felt like a git for it, felt like he should've known or projected the image of someone who did.
Lily laughed when he said so, his head tucked against her neck as she nursed their son for the first time. His eyes grew wet again, his mouth grew dry. "I should've been stronger, Lil."
"James, there's a reason I hated you in school." She resettled Harry, just as the Healer had shown her, and she continued, "Nothing fazed you. Nothing, except pride. You were so into your bloody image-prankster and Quidditch star extraordinaire and all that bollocks. It seemed like you'd go to the ends of the earth to defend it, and I knew I'd have to get in your way at some point. I'm not Narcissa Malfoy."
James smirked for a moment before the full weight of her comparison caught up with him. "Ouch, Evans. Ouch."
She couldn't shrug with a baby on breast, but the tilt of her head and the little grin communicated the same sentiment. "I'm just being honest, Potter, and I admit that I missed things, but at the time, I wasn't so far wrong." Despite her blasé attitude, she hesitated a moment before she said, "Even after I realized you had some virtues to balance out all those flaws, I didn't want to fancy you because," she glanced down at their son with an expression he couldn't read from his angle, and waiting for the other shoe to drop made him tense, but he tried to relax when she shot him a sidelong look from beneath rose gold lashes. "I needed someone I could share my fears with, not someone who'd give me pat assurances about Gryffindor bravery until-until he learned the hard way that war isn't some great adventure and life isn't always fair." She looked at him, eyes soft and lashes slightly damp. "I need you, James. Just as you are.
"I love you," she reminded him. "More than any image. More than any man-except, of course, our little one."
Author's Note: I had some trouble with a Draco/Ginny fic in February 2012, so I decided to write a little James/Lily. I've written slightly more James than Lily, but I don't write either one very often, so any feedback at all is appreciated. Thanks for reading!