A/N: All rights belong to JKR. Written for day two of Jily AU Week: Survival
Music starts playin' like the end of a sad movie,
It's the kinda ending you don't really wanna see.
It's the kind of ending you really don't want to see
Cause it's tragedy and it'll only bring you down
Now I don't know what to be without you around
And I can't breathe without you
But I have to.
-Breathe (Taylor Swift)
The battle was dirty and rough. Mud underfoot made things complicated. James slipped and slid across the ground, throwing spell after spell over his shoulder, in front of him, next to his ear. He felt rather than saw his mates running around doing the same thing he was. But in this dark and dirty mess, he prayed the spell hit its mark and not a loved one.
A white burst of light illuminated the area and Lily's hair lit up like a flash.
'That was a close one!' He yelled, and she grinned at him over her shoulder.
'Thankfully not close enough.' She yelled back and he gave her a quick salute. But there was no more time for talk- the Death Eaters were closing in. Lily danced away and towards him as if pulled by an invisible string, dueling with masked figures left and right.
One dropped to the ground from a her Stunning spell. He dodged a Cruciatus curse and threw a Bat Bogey Hex at the sender.
'Unorthodox, but effective,' Sirius approved from his left. James turned towards his best friend.
'Story of our lives, eh?'
Slipping slightly in the mud, he turned back to Lily. She was beautiful, even among the grime. The spells and curses flying danced across her skin like a wicked rainbow. The moon was half-full, illuminating the battle surprisingly well. He could see her in near-perfect clarity, shining there before him.
He blinked, and that's when the green light hit her chest. Time seemed to slow. Her face was twisted in confusion and her eyes met his. They widened in surprise and then began to dim, horrifyingly. She collapsed.
One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.
'LILY!' He roared and all the sounds of battle faded away. He exploded into action, sprinting the four meters between them and flinging a spell at her attacker. He was dead before James' dropped to Lily's side.
Three. Four.
He pressed a hand to her face.
Five.
No response.
Six.
'Lily?' He begged, shaking her shoulder. 'Get up. I know you're awake. Get up! Lily! STOP LAYING THERE! GET UP!'
He felt a hand on his shoulder, dragging him away from her. He pushed it off, hunching over her body—the thought was poison in his mind—and kept whispering words even he could not hear.
Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
He sensed, rather than heard the Death Eaters Apparating away and everything was still, enough to count his heartbeat. He was abhorrently aware that it continued to pound and hers did not.
'James!' Someone shouted, and it sounded like it was not the first time. He sat up with blank eyes, unable to look away from his wife. The shouter pulled James' head to the side—Sirius. Sirius slapped him, hard.
'Are you back now?'
'She's dead.'
'And Moony's hurt, we have to get away. They're going to come back with reinforcements. C'mon, mate.'
He staggered upright, pulled by Sirius until he was standing. He allowed himself to be dragged away.
'Wait, Lily—'
'Benjy's getting her, see?'
'I can't, I can't leave her.'
Sirius sighed, and the weight of the world seemed to rest in that breath of air. 'You have to, there's nothing more you can do for her. Do you want to end up dead like her?'
'Yes!' James cried, doubling over and feeling the tears prick his eyes. 'I want to be with her. Let me go and let me die too.'
Sirius said nothing, obviously surprised by the passion in James' voice. He raised his wand and pointed it at his friend's chest. James stared at him, knowing he should feel something at the threshold of death, but nothing. Lily, Lily, Lily….
The mental repetitions of her name drowned out Sirius' incantation and James slid into welcome darkness.
Eleven. Twelve.
'He's coming around now, Sirius.' Remus announced with a tired lilt to his words. James laid on the bed with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of stillness. He didn't want to ruin it. So peaceful…
'Mate,' said Sirius, 'are you alright?'
He forced his eyes open to look at his two best friends. Remus was hunched over in a chair, his face grey and haggard. Sirius was leaning against the wall, his mask of serenity occasionally breaking to reveal the anger and hurt beneath.
'Yeah,' croaked James, reaching for a glass of water and chugging it. 'Just a little sore. Where's Lily? She's not hurt, is she?'
Remus and Sirius exchanged a significant look and the dread that was dancing on the edges of his brain began to grow. They were quiet for a moment.
'James,' Remus began hesitantly and his voice broke, 'Lily died in the battle.'
Thirteen.
His world came crashing down around him again, another moment in between breaths. The nightmare he hoped was a dream turned out to be real and the pain was excruciating. He collapsed back onto the bed, dully staring up at the ceiling and trying his hardest to breathe. He was faintly aware of the quiet sniffles that heralded Sirius' and Remus' crying.
He couldn't let the sobs locked away somewhere near his heart out. They stayed there, heavy as an elephant, on his chest.
'Sirius,' he asked a little while later, forcing the words out with extreme effort. He turned his head to lock gazes with him. 'Why didn't you kill me too?'
He didn't expect an answer and didn't get one.
Fourteen. Fifteen.
'We can't leave him alone.' Remus murmured.
'I know. We'll both stay with him.'
James could only remember flashes of the next few weeks—or was it months?
Sirius and Remus moved in, true to their word, to the cottage he had shared with her.
Sixteen.
Images from the funeral—the shell-shocked look on everyone's faces, the ugly and heartbreaking cries of her mother, the flash of red as her coffin was shut and the wretched smell of death and despair as her body was lowered into the ground.
Seventeen.
He never said her name again.
Eighteen.
Damn damn bloody damn the man who had killed her. He wished the Death Eater was still alive so at least he could have a revenge mission and something to do, something to take his anger out on.
Nineteen. Twenty.
He couldn't remember if he had given her a kiss that fateful morning. Didn't know if he had smiled at her that evening. Had he even said 'I love you?' before they left on the mission?
Firewhiskey burned his throat as it slid down. The numbness that accompanied it that wasn't complete enough to forget her.
Twenty one.
The screams during the night, ripped from his throat, woke him and anyone in the house. Mornings, he would find Sirius or Remus sleeping next to his bed on the floor. Their duty was to shake him awake so the pleading would end.
Twenty two, twenty nine, thirty four, forty seven.
Eventually, he couldn't sleep in their—his—bed anymore. Couldn't stand to wake up next to the empty spot her body should be occupying. Couldn't take the deep, crushing sadness that came with the continuous realization of her mortality.
One hundred and eight, three hundred seventy five, four hundred sixty nine.
He moved to the couch and got exactly the same amount of sleep. He took to wandering the house instead, playing the part of ghost and mourner all in one.
Five hundred.
All the pictures of her disappeared from the walls quietly, leaving only slightly brighter squares of wall in their place.
Six hundred thirty. Seven hundred ninety one.
One night, when the moon was nearly full, he came across one that had been accidentally left in a corner.
They had been acting silly as the picture was taking, and she waved up at him with a goofy smile. He threw the frame across the room. It collided with a lamp and knocked it to the floor, breaking both the picture and the lamp.
Sirius and Remus rushed into the room with their wands drawn, looking for the intruder. They found James crouched on the floor instead, his head in his hands and his chest heaving.
Eight hundred and twelve.
Every morning, after the barest amount of rest his body would allow him, his arms would be decorated with scratches and his ribs with bruises. They got there by his own hand; he was trying to carve out the love still flowing through his veins and the adoration still inflating his chest.
Eight hundred and fifty three.
He went to Muggle bars to get drunk. They had better liquour, no one would recognize him and he seemed to get smashed faster. But no matter how much alcohol he drowned in, he was still keenly aware of the pain of her absence.
Nine hundred and seven.
He got into his first barfight and was surprised when the ache of a punch momentarily drowned out every other feeling.
Nine hundred and twenty four.
He got into every fight he could, letting his face, his stomach , his head take a beating so he wouldn't have to feel.
Nine hundred and fifty five.
His arms still ached because she wasn't there for him to hold. In the middle of the night, he would startle awake from his half-sleep and pull out his hair, the hair her hands loved to run through.
He realized he couldn't remember the exact shade of her hair, the sensation of her legs tangled in his, the way her laugh sounded. With a howl much like a wounded animal and another sudden influx of rage, he threw anything and everything his hands could reach.
Remus and Sirius thundered down the steps again, but they knew it was him instead. They surveyed the broken fragments of her life around James and only shook their heads.
James clawed at his belly as bile rose in his throat. With no fanfare, he vomited on the carpet. Remus Vanished it away and Sirius raised his wand to repair all the damage, but James shook his head.
'Leave it,' he croaked, dragging a hand across his mouth. 'Leave it be.' He stalked to the door and grabbed his cloak. The wind swirled it around his legs as he stomped out of the village.
Nine hundred and seventy eight.
He stumbled home three nights later with blood dripping from a broken nose, a split lip and cut on the side of his head. He smelled of cigarettes, vomit, cheap perfume and alcohol. Sirius and Remus met him in the living room., Remus setting his nose to rights as Sirius gave him a talking-to. The broken glass was still on the floor.
'It's been three months, James. I miss her too but you have to pull yourself together! Stop getting into this nonsense. Stop trying to kill yourself!'
'I can't!' James bellowed back, shrugging free of Remus' healing hands. 'I can't go out and have people expect me to act as if everything is fine and good. It's not.'
'Live a little, at least,' responded Sirius, standing toe to toe with him.
'You don't understand!' He cried, clutching at his hair and looking quite deranged. 'I can't! There's nothing left in me. We were supposed to be happy! We were going to have kids and grow old together! I have absolutely nothing to live for now. Why didn't you kill me when I first asked?'
'Because it's not what Lily would have wanted!' Remus put in, throwing a towel at James. He flinched at the sound of her name.
'You don't know that.'
'Yes, I do. She would have thought you were being ridiculous. She wouldn't have wanted you like this, zombie-like and angry.'
'How? She's dead and I'm supposed to live? You might as well ask me to carry the world.'
He ran upstairs out of habit and opened the door that had been carefully kept closed. He entered their bedroom and was assaulted by the her-ness of it—her smell, her fingers that had touched everything in this room, her feet that had trod this floor. He sunk to his knees before the bed and bowed his head.
Finally, the tears flowed.
Later, he laid on the ground with his eyes dry and swollen. 'I miss you,' he whispered to the ceiling but all he saw was red and green.
'You not being here is like oxygen ceasing to exist. I miss you with every fibre of my being.' He was quiet for a moment. 'They want me to go on with my life, Lily darling. They want me to continue and act as if nothing is wrong.'
One thousand heartbeats.
'They want me to go back to what I was. But how can I, when my heart is buried with you?'