The silence was thick and palpable. It smothered her, leaking into all the cracks in her soul, slick and oily smothering all of her tiny hopes she held close to her shattered heart. It almost killed her every time he left to fight. He left to fight and she stayed to protect. To keep safe the one thing they both couldn't stand to get hurt. Harry is their world. He gave them hope that life was still beautiful and wonderful and worth it all. And every time he came home, splattered with blood and grime and horror etched on his face, every time she rushed to a friend's house only to discover the broken remains of memories scattered along the bones, they remembered why they fought. They fought to live and love and have joy again. And Harry was living proof that it was attainable.
And now as Lily sits on the couch clutching her whole life in her arms she thinks. She thinks and wonders and dreams about what life would be like if the war wasn't here. About how happy they would be. James and his laughter, loud a booming and joyful being heard every day, the trees would sing with life during the summer and glisten with wonder in the winters. Their house would be light, open and free from these thick curtains that cover them now. And she would be happy again. She would walk around and be free. Free to wander and love and live without this fear. Without wanting to claw the walls and scream at this pressure that builds in her bones and scrapes across her eardrums and pounds through her like it's trying to break her fragile body. So as she sits on this couch and waits for the only thing that she knows can save her from this horrid feeling. And when he does come home, finally comes home, she can suddenly breathe once more. The ache she felt in her soul is lifted and the pressure that threatens to break her brittle bones is gone and all she can do is clutch this man, this person she loves too much, far too much to be in a war with because if she loses him then she will be nothing.
James clutches her back and breathes her in. He feels like she is his soul and he loses her every time he kills one of THEM. It doesn't matter how evil they are, it's still a soul he takes. Which is why it hurts so much that he basks in their deaths. He feels disgusted with himself but it's so hard to not feel the triumph that comes with taking one more twisted person off the earth, no matter how precious a life is. It's just one less person who can take away his life, his love, his joy in this world and if he can squeeze the soul out of them then he will gladly do it. Even if it leaves him broken inside. Even if the faces of those he has killed still haunt him in his sleep and he sees them, the faces of some of the children who are only following what their parents teach them who are so similar to what his best friend could have become, what was entirely possible that he could have turned to if he hadn't met James. But he knows that he still has to, he must kill these followers because if he doesn't, who knows what they could do. It is his duty and it breaks him. But he knows what he must do.
They clutch each other, brittle and shattered by this war and world, and try to escape in the relief they bring to one another because this is all they have. All they have is soft touches in the light of the living room lamp. All they have is the feel of Harry's thick black hair as they put him to bed. All they have is the warmth they can give one another in the cold bedroom beneath warm sheets where they bury the fear and terror and bitterness that has become one with them. To lose themselves in the love they share and create and thrive off each other with. Because these moments keep them sane. The feel of her skin as he slides his hand up her side. The feeling of her hands in his hair, tugging and raking. The slide of skin against skin, the tug and pull of their lips and the heat they create together. And once they have created so many memories and they hold each other at last in the calmness, they are finally at peace.
In the distance the soft cry of a baby is heard and Lily smiles, getting up and dressing with him as she goes to his crib in the next room. She hums her sweet child a tune that lulls him to sleep and James stares at her from the door frame, knowing that this is why he fights.
And while the wind outside blows and bluster with the chill of autumn, a dog barks, a gate unlocks, and a wand is raised to the backdoor as a new era begins.
