Written for the Quidditch League Season 5 Round 6

Team: Ballycastle Bats ~ Position: Chaser 1 ~ Prompt: "Kick Ass" ~ Word Count: 2212

In the Hospital Wing, Lily sits quietly in a chair next to James' bed, holding his uninjured hand, waiting until Madame Pomfrey finishes healing him. He can feel the tension in Lily's grip, can see it in her jaw, in the furrowing of her brow, and he wishes that Pomfrey would double check his ribs, or maybe re-bandage his arm, just to delay and perhaps reduce Lily's tirade. He chances a glance at her as Pomfrey finishes, and Lily is staring at him intently; he can't tell if he should feel grateful that she cares so much or alarmed because she is about to give him a good telling-off.

Madame Pomfrey stands and points her wand at the spare bandages, Vanishing them neatly. "You'll be here overnight, Potter. Three bruised ribs, a broken arm, and a black eye? Merlin, I hope you've learned your lesson," and she pulls the screen around his bed, leaving him alone with Lily.

He turns, carefully, mindful of his sore ribs, towards her. She is still looking at him, brow still furrowed, jaw still set. He squeezes her hand. "Thanks for coming," he whispers.

Lily raises a singular eyebrow - James feels jealous for an instant, because he has never had that much control over his face, despite his best effort - and squeezes his hand in return. "Like I wouldn't come to the Hospital Wing when my favorite boyfriend is injured," she mutters, and James smiles as well as he can with a bruised face.

It was a running joke between Lily and Sirius, the boyfriend thing. Before she and James started dating, Lily had joined the marauding friend group easily, had fit in well. She had teased them (teased James) that she didn't need to go out with him because she had four boyfriends. James would pout and Sirius would sling his arm around Lily, who would laugh and stand on tip-toe to kiss Sirius' cheek, much to both James' and Remus' discomfort. When she and James started dating, Lily began referring to him as "my favorite boyfriend" and the rest of the boys as "my other boyfriends" just to fluster James.

Lily moves her free hand to brush hair off his face, then she strokes his cheek. "Are you in pain?" Her voice is quiet, calm, soothing. James' eyes shut at her touch, and he nods slowly. Maybe she is not going to scold him after all; maybe she will let his injuries and overnight stay be punishment enough.

"Good."

Maybe not.

James' eyes fly open.

"What in the bloody hell were you thinking, James?" Her voice is low, which means that she is angry beyond yelling.

"I-" James tries, but Lily doesn't let him finish.

"You could have just walked away. Do you know that it's possible to not engage in every fight that comes your way? You could have helped that boy and then walked the hell away." She's losing control, he can tell; her voice is shaking, and when she finishes speaking, she presses her lips together so tightly that they turn almost white.

"Lily, they-" He tries again to no avail. Lily lets go of his hand, stands, paces around his bed. James tries his best to track her movements, but is slow due to his injuries, and by the time he's turned his head to other side of the bed, she is back by his feet already.

She flings her hands into her hair and lets out a noise that is half groan, half scream. "Augh, James Potter, don't you know you could have been killed? Those Slytherins are basically Death Eaters, Rosier, Goyle, all of Malfoy's old friends, and they don't care about detention or even about being expelled! Dumbledore can barely control them, and you're lucky they just broke your… your…"

Lily's hands and face fall, and she collapses onto the bed by James' knees, gasping for breath as she sobs. James struggles to sit up and wrap his good arm around her shoulders, but she pushes him off.

"Lily," James starts, " you're right. I'm sorry. I should have walked away, but they called that boy some truly awful things and-"

"I don't care, James!" Lily bursts out. Her face is red, tear-streaked, and pieces of her braid are falling out around her face. She turns to look at him, sniffling. She takes a deep breath, and James fishes a handkerchief out of his robes and hands it to her. Lily takes it wordlessly and pats her face, blows her nose, wads the handkerchief in a ball and fiddles with it. James runs his fingers up and down her arm, hoping the motion is soothing.

"James, I know you were being noble and brave and such a bloody Gryffindor, but you can't… you can't just turn into a superhero and kick ass in the hallways. Those bullies are serious trouble, and I'm scared, James, I'm so scared that-" her voice shakes, and James reaches out his good hand to take hers, and she clutches at him "-that one of these days your bravery is going to get you killed."

Fresh tears roll down her cheeks and Lily shuts her eyes, gasps for breath. James winces as he scoots down the bed a bit so he's able to wrap his arm around her shoulders, and she leans into him. She jerks up a moment later. "Am I hurting you?" she asks earnestly, and James suppresses a smile.

"Nah. Pomfrey gave me a pretty strong potion, so I can hold you all I want." He attempts to wiggle his eyebrows at her, and she lets out a shaky laugh.

"I have an essay to write tonight, you idiot," she says, but she leans against his chest again, careful not to jostle him. James reaches behind him to adjust the pillows, then settles and wraps his good arm around Lily again.

"I'm sorry, Lily," he whispers into her hair. He hears her sniff again, and he sighs. "Rosier and Goyle had this poor Fourth Year cornered, and I just wanted to get him out of there, I swear that's all I was doing, and then we were walking away and Goyle called him...a name, and I couldn't walk away, Lil, I couldn't."

His arm tightens around Lily and he takes a deep breath, blows it out slowly. Lily is quiet, listening, and he continues. "When Goyle said...what he said, I tried to count to ten, like you told me. I told the Fourth Year to keep walking, to go to his Common Room, and then I turned around and told Goyle that he needed to shut his mouth, or I would shut it for him."

"James," Lily sighs, "couldn't you have just fetched McGonagall? Or Dumbledore? Or literally any professor?" She moves her head up, bumping her forehead on James' chin. James moves back so he can look her in the eye.

"You just said that these blokes don't respect any school authority, Lily. What good would it have done? Slytherin would have lost some points, and they'd be back bullying the next poor Muggleborn tomorrow."

"But they'd listen to you? They'd stop hexing people because James Potter told them to?" Lily sits up, no longer leaning against him, and frowns at him. "Wait. The student was Muggleborn?"

James sighs, leans his head so he is now resting against Lily. Automatically, she wraps an arm around his shoulders, puts her hand in his hair. He had hoped that she wouldn't catch his slip, hoped that she would just berate him for not calling a professor; instead she fastens on to the bit he had been trying to hide from her, the one detail that meant he absolutely could not have walked away from this confrontation.

"James?" Lily squeezes his shoulder.

"Lil, you know that..." he pauses, blinks, starts again. "You're brilliant and talented and capable, and anyone who doubts that is mental." He stops and looks up, searches her face. She looks steadily back at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I know that you can take care of yourself. I know it, and Merlin help me, I know you don't need me." He lets out a shaky, almost manic little laugh, still watching her. Lily's brows are furrowed slightly, more out of concern, he thinks, than frustration with his slow-to-the-point storytelling.

"I know this, and you know this, and I need you to know that I know this, okay? You are fully capable of taking care of yourself, and I know it, and-"

"James," Lily interrupts him with another shoulder squeeze, "I know. You know. We all know how brilliant I am." She smiles gently at him, rubs up and down his arm a bit to calm him. He settles a bit, relaxes into her again, and takes a deep breath.

"I just don't want you to think that I think you can't handle yourself," James says, almost pleading with her. He watches her, watches her eyes soften as she sees his genuine concern.

"I don't think that, James. You've had more faith in my abilities than I have sometimes, and you are the last person who would ever underestimate me." She slides her hand down his arm again, but keeps going past his elbow, past his wrist, until she can link their fingers together. James grips her tightly, and she leans forward to kiss his cheek. "What does my brilliance have to do with the Fourth Year today?"

A bit calmer now, James sorts through his thoughts. His main reason for avoiding the subject with Lily - until now, obviously - was that he didn't want to seem like he thought any less of her because of her family. If he did, well, that would make him just like the purebloods he couldn't stand, wouldn't it? He would be just like Rosier and Goyle and sodding Malfoy, doubting someone's abilities because of their parentage. Now that he knows Lily is reassured of his confidence in her, he can get to the crux of the matter.

"I, er, well, the reason I can't walk away from a fight is because I think of you," James says, then frowns. That did not come out like he meant it, and Lily is also frowning.

"I mean," he explains hurriedly, "that I see students, no matter their blood status, getting bullied by those arses, and I try to stop the fighting and not make it worse, but when it's a Muggleborn, I just…" he trails off and his eyes shut, and Lily stays silent, watching him, letting him unravel his thoughts. He decides to try again from another angle.

"You know you said you're scared I'm going to end up with a lot worse than a broken arm?" he asks quietly, looking at her again. Lily nods, squeezes his hand.

"Well, I'm scared that one day, you're going to be fighting those wankers and someone is going to walk by, and instead of helping you, they're going to just walk away and leave you fighting alone, and that scares the hell out of me, Lily," James says in one breath.

"And the thought, that as brilliant and as capable as you are, that someone would not get involved and help you, that tears me apart, Evans. Every time Rosier calls someone a Mudblood, every time Goyle starts to hex someone, I see you, with no one standing up...not for you, because you don't need that, but with you, because you shouldn't have to stand up to those bastards alone. And that's why I can't walk away, because I can't... I can't be the kind of man who doesn't stand up for what's right and for the woman I love."

He is breathing heavily by the time he finishes, chest heaving against Lily's side. He lets his head drop against her shoulder again as he waits for her to respond, to react somehow. She is silent for a moment, and just as he's about to sit up and ask her what she's thinking, she sighs, kisses his forehead, and whispers, "I'm glad you're not that kind of man, James Potter."

James sits up now and looks at her closely. "Really?"

Lily nods. "I get it, James, and as much as I hate you getting hurt, I hate even more the idea of you not being true to your convictions. You really are a Gryffindor, aren't you, you prat," she says fondly.

"So," James says slowly, "are you not mad at me any more?"

Lily snorts and leans forward to kiss him softly. "I guess not, you bloody superhero. Merlin, I should get you a cape."

She makes to stand. "I have to finish my Defense essay tonight, but I'll come by before breakfast, alright?"

James catches her hand, kisses her palm. "Alright. But Lily," he grips her hand tightly as she starts to turn, "before you go, I have a question."

Lily raises a brow at him - again, and James feels jealous again - and swings their hands a bit. "Yes?"

James clears his throat. After all he shared with her, this should be an easy thing to get out, but he finds he is a bit embarrassed.

"James?" Lily prompts him gently.

"...what's a superhero?"