Not yet betaed. Will come.

Chapter 2

He wasn't exactly sure what had brought him to this place, but as James tumbled around in a heap of garbage a few metres away from a bar located on the far outside of London, he was glad that it wasn't a place he was planning to go again soon. Though, in his state of mind, nothing really mattered. Just the faint rush in his head and the dull feeling of nothing these muggle spirits he had drowned throughout the late afternoon brought him, was what mattered. Beers had been his favourite so far, but as he slowly had come to welcome the rush in his head and the dull feeling, he'd tried some new things, and had become very fond of that dark, golden liquor. What was it called again?

He'd have to get a bottle of that for when he got home on nights like this. Or to those days where he simply hadn't the energy to leave his house. Or when he awoke in the early morning hours and it was just after the bars had closed and there would go several hours before they opened again.

Time had become trivial to James Potter. It was an unimportant factor in his life, in which days and night flowed into one. He slept when he wanted. He ate when he wanted. And he drank when he wanted, which was most of the time. He had come to live a life purely controlled by his needs, and if someone had asked him to tell him what date or day of the week it was, he wouldn't know. He couldn't remember just how many weeks since his terrible accident it was, but if he were to guess, six months seemed like a nice shot. After all, the winter had come and gone and judging by what he assumed was early night and the temperature, it had to be spring. Early May maybe.

Burping faintly, he rolled over and slowly got up. He got a closer look on the street and then fell back in the heap of garbage again muttering, "Bloody hell". He blinked a few times, trying to get the world to stop spinning, or at least stop spinning so violently, but with no success.

But he was in control of it. He had gotten used to the spinning and the floor rocking back and forth. It was a natural feeling in his life, and the only time of the day it wasn't there, was when he got up and the time it took him to get drunk that day. And he had somehow come to like it. Who would want a perfect life anyways? The rocking floor was just the thing in his life that made it... um, not perfect.

He closed his eyes and slowly sat up again. Only a second later he rolled over and let the last few hours' intakes splatter all over the bag of garbage next to him. He chuckled to himself. That golden thing was a blast!

He faintly noticed a person stopping next to him, before passing out.

*

His face was buried deep in a pillow with a strange scent. Frowning, he realised it was his own breath. Horrible but with a nice odour of something spicy. The golden liquor. He rolled onto his back and slowly opened his eyes. He covered his face in his left arm, as the light was much too bright for him.

He was pretty sure something had happening to his window. The curtains in his house was usually not pulled aside, letting the light of the day enter his bedroom. With a loud groan he sat halfway up and reached for the curtain, and then stopped. This was not his bedroom. His curtain would have been just above his head. And he did not sleep on a couch. What was happening?

Not bothering to answer his own question yet, he moved a bit around on the couch and then buried his face in the pillow again. He should have known already after the smell of the pillow. His smelled like bear, not golden liquor.

He heard the creak of a door opening, not many metres away and afterwards small feet crossing the floor towards him. The person stopped just beside him and then sat down.

"I know you're awake."

James nearly groaned in frustration. What were the odds? He hadn't seen Lily Evans since that day in St. Mungo's and now she was here! Was it her living room? And was she the one to bring him here? This had officially turned to be the worst day of his life.

"James." Her voice had that stern edge he only knew too well. Her mind was set on something and there was a hint of disapproval, or was it anger?

"Yeah," he croaked. Very slowly he opened his eyes, finding her sitting on a coffee table, not a meter away from him. And with a groan he closed his eyes again.

"How are you feeling?" Her voice was softer now.

"In a need of some strong drink," he muttered. "Do you have some?"

She snorted disapproving. "You need a glass of water." She got up and left the room.

Very slowly James sat up. He still was wearing his t-shirt from the previous day, and when smelling to it, he concluded that he'd have to wash it soon. It had been a long time since he'd done that so it was probably fitting if he did it one of the following days.

Stretching with a yawn, he was suddenly overwhelmed by the spicy smell again. "Rum," he mumbled.

"What was that?" Lily stopped in front of the couch with a glass of water in her hand.

"The liquor is called rum," he said to himself. "I've got to remember that."

"Remember all you want," she said, handing the glass over. "But that was the last one you got last night. This stops now, James."

"What stops now?" he asked and drowned the water.

"The drinking," she said. "I've talked to Sirius and the other two. They're very concerned about you."

"So what?" he grunted and lay down again. He closed his eyes and hoped that somehow, Lily would go away and he'd be home in his own bed when he opened them again. "Why am I here?"

"Because I brought you here." Her answer was simple, as if she was answering how to perform a levitation spell. "Sit up."

She was so different from last time he'd seen her. She was straightforward and not polite and careful. Her temper was back, luring just beneath the surface of her calm, hard attitude. She was the old Lily Evans. The Lily James had known from the Hogwarts days. She was that Lily Evans he had wanted to do anything for. The Lily Evans he had loved with the whole of his heart. The one he'd have given his life to be with.

And deep inside, he still had a weakness for that person. He couldn't say no, and he wanted to do what she asked him to and wanted him to do. He wanted to please her, make her smile and happy.

And then he sat up, obeying completely. She had been studying his every movement, he knew. She still did. Her eyes didn't move away from his face and he knew that all of her attention was on him. The way he had always liked it to be, and he felt a certain wave of nostalgia rush through him, and it almost made him smile.

"James, you need help," she said.

He certainly did inot/i. He was perfectly fine. "No," he said. "Why would I need help?"

"Do you remember the last time we talked?" He nodded. "Good." She breathed in deeply. "Then I assume you remember what we talked about. And I assume you know, when thinking about it, that you did not do as I told you to."

"You didn't tell me to do anything," he said.

"I told you not to let it crush you. James, we both know why you've been trying to drink yourself to death the last few months."

He looked away. He hadn't been trying to drink himself to death. He had been drinking because he liked the feeling, because it made him forget about his misery and his shoulder. Because it made him happy. He wasn't trying to drink himself to death.

"That is not dealing with it. James, please look at me."

And he did. He had to do it. When she said his name that way only she could, it left him no choice. Her eyes were so full of genuine concern and took his breath away. No one had looked at him like that for so long time.

Very slowly she reached over and took his hand into hers. It was soft and warm, just as he remembered it. "I said you would have to deal with it," she said. "But you're not. I really believed in you, that it was something you could overcome. I believed you to be stronger. You've let it take over you, it's destroying you. It has made you shut out everything else you love. When did you last time talk to Sirius? Remus? Peter? Your parents? And what about all the trouble you love to get it? What has happened to all of that?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but she silenced him by putting two fingers over his lips. "Don't answer me. Think about it." She got up and left the room and James.

As she closed the door behind her James dropped sideways onto the couch again, closing his eyes.

He had talked to his friends recently. He just couldn't remember when or what they had talked about. Had they met in a bar or had they come to visit him? He couldn't remember. And for his parents. Well, Lily didn't know they had both died more than a year back. And trouble wasn't fun without his friends. But maybe he should go out and break something tonight. Just to prove Lily wrong.

He was about to get up when Lily came back. She was carrying a plate in her hands. She sat it on the coffee table and then sat down herself.

"Wow, you didn't give me much time to think," he said dryly, sitting up.

"Thought you might need something to eat," she muttered, nodding at the plate.

"I'm not hungry," he answered.

She took a deep breath. "Look, James... This has to stop now." She seemed to forget all about the plate and got up. She sat down next to James on the couch, slowly taking hold of one of his hands. "I want to help you," she said. "Help you move on. I think it's time. You've had a self-pity period, but now it's time to move forward, don't you think?" She smiled at him. "You can do it, I know you can."

James wasn't entirely sure what made him do it, but before he gave it a second thought he had slowly leaned forward, pressing his lips to Lily's. He raised his hand, touching the soft skin of her neck gently. And then she pulled away from him.

She was looking down, and very gently she folded her hand around his and removed it. She gathered their hands in the middle, looking at them. She was biting her lower lip. James knew that gesture. She was thinking, trying to decide what to do. The rational, responsible side and then the reckless, impulsive side of her were fighting in her chest, and she was over thinking a simple happening. And he knew what was going through her mind.

"Um," was all she managed to get out before the sound of a door opening sounded through the apartment.

Before any of them had time to react the door closed again and the person entered the living room. He was tall, had fair skin and short, caramel coloured hair. He stopped as his eyes met Lily and James on the couch, and a frown appeared on his forehead.

"Marlon," Lily said, not able to hide her surprise. She let go of James' hands and got up. She rushed to Marlon's side and kissed him on the cheek.

He was still looking at James. "Um, Lily?"

"Yeah?" she breathed, a little too energetic. He nodded at James. "Oh! Um, this is James. He's an old friend from school. We met up yesterday and he stayed over. He lives in the other end of the country."

"Weren't you working last night?" He finally looked away from James and turned his attention to Lily.

"Well." She brushed some hair out of her face. "I got off. James told me he'd only be in London for two days. And I haven't seen him in years. So..."

James was about to protest, seeing as nothing of this was true, when he realised why Lily was lying. This man was a muggle and probably had no idea of apparation and magic. Furthermore, no man would be happy to find another man in his girlfriend's apartment, assuming of course that his guess about this man was correct.

Lily took a hold of his hand. "Why don't you go out in the kitchen and make some lunch? Just for two."

Marlon nodded and turned. When the door closed Lily turned to James. She had a new look in her eyes. One James hadn't seen before. Was it pity? Guilt? A mixture of so many emotions he couldn't place it? She slowly ran her hands through her hair.

"Can we meet up later and talk? Now is just not a good time." She didn't wait for an answer. "Please eat, James. You look hungry." And she exited.

James buried his face in his hands and leaned back in the couch. And then it washed over him. The feeling of rejection. He hadn't felt like this in so long time, and he had forgotten just how much it hurt. And how stupid it made him feel. So cast aside. He wanted to bury himself, metres below the ground where Lily wouldn't ever see him again.

And what exactly had made him kiss her? The sudden concern he received from a forgotten friend? Or was it in fact affection towards her? Or did he just need someone? Not able to draw a conclusion, he settled with the first one, because that was least desperate one.

Because he knew that he didn't feel anything for Lily anymore. He had long buried that in the past. He had started a new life after Hogwarts, that meaning there was no Lily and... Actually, Lily was the only thing he really had buried. He had kept his friends, he had kept playing Quidditch and he certainly did not change one bit. He was the same as then, and so was Lily, but she wasn't a part of his life anymore.

He had dated since Lily, yes, and he had cared for those women. It wasn't a problem to find a girl when being a star on the best Quidditch team in the league. He had forgotten Lily, her voice, her smell and everything that had to do with her. Almost. He had a little scar on his upper arm which Lily accidentally had caused him when they were dating. He hadn't gotten it healed and slowly, a little, pink mark had appeared. It made him think of her every time he saw it, but in the good way. It had made him remember their good times. The way they had laughed and had fun together. How sweet she had been and how much he had cared.

But he didn't feel anything for her anymore.

With a grimace he got up and found his wand. Making sure the door was closed he disapparated with a faint pop.