For Kerr, who hurt herself somehow :(

I don't own anything

JamesOlly

"Jesus Christ," he can't say anything but this as he walks down the alleyway – if walks can be a similar enough word to shoots the hell down there as fast as he can – to find Olly. She's his Auror partner, but she's more than that; she's his best friend, the one he's been with since the very start.

His parents are best friends with her Mum, the generation that got them into wanting to be Aurors. Neither of them were going to bother – both of them were going to try and get accepted by one of the top Quidditch teams – but something sort of clicked inside of them when they realised the sacrifices their parents made for them…

None of the elder kids had bothered, and they doubted the younger ones would bother, so they decided to carry on their parent's legacies, the infamous duo, Black and Potter, inseparable. McGonagall compared them, during their time at Hogwarts, to the first Black and Potter duo, their grandparents, the ones they never got to meet.

And that is part of the reason why they chose the Auror route.

But now, as he is racing down the alleyway to the body – no, the unconscious body – of Olly, he regrets the choice they made. If they had just been selfish, decided to do something for themselves rather than be all self-sacrificing, then he wouldn't be finding his Olly down here.

He's loved her for God know's how long, probably since before they left Hogwarts five years ago, and he can't remember a time without him wanting her around. They have their fights, of course they do – how can they live in the same flat without having them? – but they always make up, they always have each other's backs.

Not this time.

He had run off in a different direction and ignored her advice to go with her down for the other one. The intended targets were wayward wizards, ones intent on causing Muggles harm, but the weaker one had ran away. She had needed him to get the mastermind of the operation so they could prosecute him… but all James had thought of was the glory.

The glory of being like his Dad, someone he attempted to live up to every day – but how can you live up to the saviour of the wizarding world? All James had thought of as he chased the one they didn't even need – and lost him somewhere – was the idea of having his own glory, being able to say to someone that he had caught the bad guy, that they could congratulate him for once.

He had forgotten about Olly.

He doesn't know what he's done to her, since he's still yards away, but he knows that she isn't good. How could she be good lying on the floor like that? How could she be good-oh god, is that blood?

It is.

He skids to a halt and falls onto his knees, barely able to see her motionless body through the tears falling thickly from his eyes. She's pale for Olly, the girl who pretty much looks like the colour of an albino half the time, and he can't put into words the desolation he feels as he looks at her.

The only bits of colour on her face are the vivid red of her lips, standing out against her chalky skin, and the thick black kohl around her eyes. They pull him into a trance, the makeup which is so Olly and entirely not right for this situation, a place where she could be dying.

"Olly, no," he begs her as he pulls her body into his lap, the limpness of her arms scaring him even more than he originally thought. His heart pounds as the adrenaline kicks through his body, leaving him not knowing what to do but leaving him even more scared than before. "Come on, Olly, you don't want to die… don't do it Olly, just don't!"

The blood pool seems to multiply by the second from a source unknown, running down her back and onto his legs as he hoists her into his arms. "Don't leave me, Olly, please don't leave me! I love you… I've never said this to you before, but I'm saying it now. You leave me, you break me, ok?"

Footsteps startle him from his fierce talking to Olly and he turns to see his Head Auror sprinting down the alley towards them, yelling words he can't understand. The fog in his brain seems to leave everything but Olly out: he can see the moving of Davies' mouth but he can't make out the words, can't understand the orders he's being given.

All he does is clutch Olly closer.

"James!" when Davies is right in his face does he finally understand what he's saying. "What the fuck happened?"

He shrugs because he doesn't know, but he doesn't wipe away the tears. They're the only thing he has right now, as the girl lies dying in his arms, the girl he loves so damned much he can't imagine a life without her. He can't actually remember a time when they haven't spoken at least three times a week – and it's normally every day, all day at the minute.

"He… he attacked her," he whispers, telling him the only information he actually knows since he wasn't here. He wasn't here to protect her; she doesn't normally need protecting, he knows that and if he ever did, she'd kill him, but she needed him this time and he wasn't there to help her.

Davies spots the blood pouring onto the floor, dripping down James' arms, his legs, everywhere, and issues a few chosen profanities of his own. "We need help!" he yells to the end of the alley where purple uniformed Healers begin to run. They get there in a fraction of the time it seemed to take James – whether the fear of seeing Olly lying there, motionless, seemed to make it slower, he doesn't know, but he knows that she is leaving him and she isn't staying.

"No, you can't take her!" he cries out as the Healers pull her from his arms, yanking at her as he attempts to cling on. "I need her; she can't leave me!"

"James, they need to take her to St Mungos to heal her," Davies says, his voice softer than James can actually remember it. Soft at the wrong time, he thinks bitterly, standing up as the Healers Disapparate with Olly, his Olly, the one he can't live without.

"I need to go there," he mumbles incoherently, shaking his head to try and get enough of a clear thought pattern to be able to get to his destination without needing healing himself. "I need her."

"James, wait!" Davies yells at him, yanking him back to face him sharply. "You can't just go running there – you'll disrupt them trying to heal her!"

"Trying?" James catches perhaps the most important word in the entire sentence. "Davies, they aren't going to be trying to save her; she's strong, she's a fighter – she'll make it through all on her own! She has to!" and with that, he turns away from Davies and Disapparates on the spot.

He arrives in the shiny foyer of St Mungos, a state in his blood and dirt covered clothing but not caring because he needs Olly, he needs to find where she is.

"O-Olivia Black, please," he stammers over her name as he storms up to the receptionist on the desk, forgoing the queue entirely.

"There's a queue, sir, please wait your turn," she replies coolly, not seeing the importance.

"Don't you bloody get it?" he yells at her, losing the iota of calmness he had left. "She's dying! She just got rushed in, bleeding to death, and I should have been there to help her, to make sure that they didn't do that to her! We're a team… and I left her," he breaks down, changing from an angry man to a broken one, one who can barely stand up as he faces the prospect of a life without the girl he loves.

Why hasn't he told her before? Why hasn't he said to her those three simple words, the eight letters in I love you?

He can imagine it now…

Olivia Black

22nd January 2005 – 3rd June 2028

Dead because he wasn't there to help her

Dead before he could tell her he loves her

He shakes his head violently, returning to the real world.

"Sir, could you please take a seat?" the blonde receptionist urges him, motioning to the seats. "The Healer in charge of her case will be out to speak to you as soon as there is any news regarding Miss Black, I promise you. But please, let them do their jobs."

He nods slowly, not really taking anything in but Olly's title. Miss Black: it sounds so regal, so posh. How would this receptionist take it if he told her that little miss posh Olly spends fifty galleons per week buying cider just so she and James can have burping contests? (only when she's really drunk) how would she react if he told her that posh Olivia was the product of an extramarital affair? How would she react if she knew the girl dying right now was the most infamous female prankster Hogwarts has ever had?

But he takes his seat anyway…

And he waits.

~x~

One hour, two hours, three hours, four: the time drags by, each minute feeling more like an hour. People come and sit with him: his parents, her mother, his siblings (and her adopted ones, almost), even her brother Jake, who doesn't even really seem to like James much.

All he wants to hear are those special words: she's ok. The only thing he wants to know is that she isn't going to die, that he has a chance to tell her how he feels before it's too late.

People say things; tell him it wasn't his fault, that he couldn't have done anything, as if they think his behaviour is through guilt. Of course it is; if he'd followed protocol, she wouldn't be half dead right now! But he's like this because the only thing he can think of is that he should have told her how he feels.

And maybe he won't get the chance now.

What feels like an eternity later, but could be anything from an hour to five, the Healer in charge of Olly comes over to the group which could probably fill three wards with it's amount of people.

"Ms Black? Mr Potter?" the Healer motions to James and Olly's mother to come and talk to him on the far side of the reception. As they walk, James gets a good look at Kerr: she's probably the most shaken he has ever seen her, bags under her eyes, her face an absolute mess in concern for her daughter.

She's been in this situation many a time, but never her daughter.

"Is she ok?" that's the first thing out of James' mouth, more like an order rather than a request. His shoulders relax slightly as the Healer nods, but he's still pretty damned tense, just wanting to see Olly.

"She lost a lot of blood with the spell cast, but we managed to stabilise her," the Healer says gravely. "She'll be in here for about a week, but you are both free to see her now."

He motions to a door in the corner, one which must lead to Olly. Kerr and James exchange glances before she nods slowly, motioning to the door herself.

"You're the one who found her, James; you go in first," she says so quietly he almost missed it. "Anyway, I think you have something you need to tell her, eh?" she makes an attempt at a joke, her wan smile lifting his spirits infinitesimally.

"You sure?" he confirms, almost running through the door the moment her head completes the hasty nod.

He pulls the door open and spots the girl of his dreams with slightly more colourful skin than before, healthier than then…and the best part is?

She's awake.

"Hey," he says as he pulls up the chair next to her. His expression drops away entirely as he takes her hand, rubbing small patterns in the back of her hand with his thumb. "You scared me back there. Promise you're not going to do it again?"

She nods slowly, coughing slightly but nodding anyway. She tries to say something but can't manage, coughing some more before the words slowly begin to pour out.

"I… I heard you back there," she whispers, her words stunning James. "When you held me in your arms… I know you love me."

"I… I don't know what to say," he says through unmoving lips, his eyes transfixed on her grey ones, the ones with all the knowledge in the world to him.

"Say you love me."

"I love you."

She smiles slightly, this huge victory in telling James Potter what to do being a catalyst to her. "Gotcha," she whispers back, reminding him of the promise he made when they first moved in together.

"You won't ever give me an order that I'll follow," he told her, a twinkle in his eyes as he surveyed her. She stood with her hands on her hips, little miss organised in unpacking all their stuff.

"We'll be seeing about that, Mr Potter," she replied, shaking her head in disbelief as he ran off to play Quidditch with the others.

The first sign of growing up: staying in the house rather than playing.

"I… I meant it," he whispers to her, willing his eyes to tell her that he means it, that he isn't making it up like he thinks she thinks he is.

"I know," her answer surprises him, since he thought she would think he didn't mean it. "I hate to break it to you, Jamie, but I've known one hell of a lot longer than you."

"Then why didn't you say something?"

"I wanted you to figure it out on your own. I didn't want to make you feel something you didn't really feel ready to feel."

"Wait… I thought it was you who didn't love me?" James answers, his brow furrowed. "You're the one who dated that international Quidditch player, the one who dated the banker, that really weird dude, all those Muggles-"

"yes, yes, I get the picture I've been a promiscuous brat, since I've known I've loved you since seventh year," she waves him off, barely wincing with the movement. "You're the one who has had more girlfriends than I could count using my fingers, toes, body parts and items in this room," she reminds him, her tone getting a little steely.

"All… well, most before I realised I love you," he responds, "And I have been better since seventh year, when I realised it."

She shrugs slightly and nods. "Ya, sure, whatever. Anyway… you love me, I love you, what do we do?" she asks the most logical of questions: the what's the next stage question.

"I… I want to ask you out," he tells her his plans in such a way that they both end up laughing. "What I meant to say was that you're the most gorgeous girl on the planet and that I want to take you to that scrummy Italian down the road from our flat and eat pizza and kiss you all night long under the starry night sky. That sound good?"

"That sounds perfect," she whispers before her gaze locks on the window for a second. "Don't look but the entire family are watching and I think there may be Extendable Ears."

"All the better for this then," he shrugs and leans over on the bed towards her. She doesn't move as his neck bends slightly to press his lips to hers gently, their first kiss… in a hospital bed.

The cheers erupt from outside the room and then the entire clan seem to be rushing in.

"Well, you certainly took your time," Fred II says with a grin. "Even longer than it took you to learn that it was me nicking your belts and replacing them with lines of squirty cream," he continues, then realising that James didn't know that yet.

"That was you?" he asks agog, looking between Olly and Fred. "But, I thought it was Olly! That's why I replaced all her clothes with Louis' the other year…"

"Oh fuck," Olly responds. "Then I guess I better apologise to Victoire for cutting her hair off then!"

James takes her hand as he sits with her on the bed, happily content.

With Olly.

Thoughts?

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Vicky xx