A/N: This is the first entry in a set of either two or three drabbles collectively called 'Dead'. The next one is currently in the works now, and its fandom is ASOUE. This drabble was kinda influenced by 'Wonder Woman' (it was an amazing movie!), so if you spot the similarities, that's where they came from. Enjoy! (I hope)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK and Wonder Woman to DC.

Dead?

The last thing she sees before he leaves is a pair of hazel eyes behind grimy, cracked spectacles.

She knows right there that she will remember him for those eyes. And the white flash of a grin in the dark that is meant to be reassuring, but doesn't quite hit its mark.

He's scared.

His lips state otherwise: It's fine, Evans. We'll be fine, just..hang in there and we'll be out of this hell-hole before you know it.

His calloused fingers nearly leave her hands, but he hesitates, chewing his lip.

He is scared, and he can't hide it from her. That gives her a strange pride, knowing she can read him so easily after a mere two weeks spent together.

Her eyes skim the British colours adorning his chest. They bring back memories of the night before, where the sheets in the dusty inn had been red and blue...


It's just the two of them that night, and they can pretend that everything is fine, that there aren't Nazis plotting to destroy them that very minute, that there isn't a war raging around them, slaughtering men, women and children alike.

They're spies, James and Lily. The best of the British Intelligence.

Partners, and now so much more than that, Lily muses as she snuggles in closer to his warm chest.

"I love you, Evans."

"I know. I rather feel the same way, actually, Potter."

He props himself up on one elbow and grins the crooked, mischievous grin she loves so much. "I'm serious. The whole of remarkable me here"-he sweeps a hand over his body-"belongs to you."

Lily feels her insides melting to mush, but she just smirks. "Might as well take advantage of that, eh?"


James' voice snaps her back to reality.

I love you Evans. The same words from last night. Don't kill me if I die.

She doesn't quite know what to say to that, so she kisses him, hoping he understands, and hoping that this wouldn't be the last time.

But she whispers the three fateful words into his ear, just to be sure.

He runs with his gun cocked in his arms, blending in effortlessly with the rest of the soldiers. Their jaws are hard with determination, but Lily knows they have no hope. This war isn't theirs to win.

No...

He's running in a different direction, towards the aircraft that only the two of them know holds tons of German ammunition, plus the deadly new gas developed by their gang of evil scientists. It's taking off to London, where bombs will be dropped and they'll blow up the city. He can't be...he promised we'd wait for the peace treaty to be signed tomorrow.

He must have known it would never work. But he promised...

James catches a wing of the plane and clambers on, miraculously unharmed by the bullets crashing all around him, and Lily watches helplessly from the half-destroyed clock tower.

His body gives a sudden, violent jerk.

He's been shot in the arm, and it isn't fatal, so he keeps going. The fool. The stupid, stupid man. Lily feels wetness drip onto her front, and she realizes her face is already damp with tears. She can see a scarlet patch staining his uniform as the plane rises steadily.

She cries because she knows what he's going to do. But he promised...

He climbs into the cockpit, and soon she sees a German pilot tumbling out and cracking his head on the hard ground. The plane angles upwards sharply, and moves away from the broken village.

The grenade she knows he threw into the cargo explodes in the sky.

It's beautiful, the exploding plane. The flames spreading in every direction enchant her with their firework of reds and yellows and oranges.

The charred cockpit falls in an abandoned haystack. It's mostly undamaged, but she doesn't dare let herself hope.

Is he dead? She can't be sure.

But Lily runs there like a madwoman anyway.

He's hers, after all.

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