A/N: this has a split ending, the requestee, wanted a happy ending where they get together, and I thought I broke them too hard for that. Both have been posted. Chapter 10 is mine, Chapter 11 is written by me for Davros fan.

Colin was laying in bed, he felt disgusting, and cold and hot at the same time. He was naked, sweat covering his body, only a thin sheet on his lower half. It was dark, and his head hurt like hell, he was so tired but couldn't sleep. It was too hot, but if he kicked off the blanket it was too cold.

It was cold. of course it was cold, it was snowing inside. He went to sit up, but couldn't. Colin needed water or something, anything to drink but he was stuck, his hands and feet, arms neck all stuck. He tried to call out but could only manage a panicked hum.

There was a noise. Like footsteps, then another, which sounded like a stack of papers being knocked to the ground.

He was able to move again as the sound of shattering glass startled him and he jumped up, tangling himself in his sheet and falling to the floor.

Colin moaned in pain, and his lungs became heavy, and the room span around him, he could see stars.

"COLIN!"

Colin looked for the source of the noise - no shout, that was a person calling for him.

"Colin! Are you alright."

"Harry Potter," Colin said as the familiar face swam before his eyes. "It's snowing inside. I should take a picture."

Harry moved back, Colin dearly missed his warm touch. "I'd like one blanket please!" Colin cried out before dissolving in giggles. He was led back into bed by a worried looking Harry Potter.

"I think you're hallucinating." Harry told him dryly.

"What are words?" Colin asked him, in the most serious of tones. "They're talking!" He theorized, "Wow, that's gold."

Harry pushed him onto the bed by his shoulders and placed a cool flannel over his forehead, which Colin pulled down and hugged to his chest, babbling more nonsense. Harry conjured a chair and waited through the night with him. Colin drifted between waking and sleep with incoherent babble and uncomfortable cries and whimpers. And Harry stayed by him the whole night.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked Colin, who was holding his head. He grumbled as he came into the room.

"Shit." Colin said, he sneered at Harry.

"Don't look at me like that, Colin." Harry said.

"You deserve it."

"I do not. I don't deserve any of this. You're an asshole." Harry spat. Colin stood, and Harry's courage faltered, but he stood as well. "I just, I want to be happy."

"You are happy, Hero." Colin said, Harry shook his head.

"Stop hitting me, don't call me Hero."

"But-" Colin was interrupted by the loud smack that seemed to echo in the room. Harry drew his fist back, and shook it.

Colin stepped back, wand drawn. Harry's wand.

"Harry, everything I did to you was all your fault. If you had just-"

Harry launched himself forward and snatched Colin's wand.

"I don't deserve it, I don't, I never did, its all your fault, you, you-"

"Harry," Colin warned the older man, but Harry drew his fist back and punched Colin in the face again, forgetting the wand and he hit his tormentor again, in the stomach, in the face, Colin spluttered and cried out, and Harry kicked him, stomped on him, kicked him again. But he did only superficial damage, Colin was curled up on the floor, whimpering.

"I never deserved that, ever, Colin," Harry said, "You told me you would look after me and you hurt me, you hurt me and you lied to me. You have a problem, you have a lot of them, but from now on the deal is, you look after me, and I will stay.

"I'll protect you, Hero," Colin muttered from the floor, a sob escaped his lips and he began to cry. "I'll take care of you, Hero."

Harry sneered at the boy on the floor, and left for his bedroom.

I should leave here.

Harry hadn't been outside in what felt like years. He was frightened to say the least. He was sure to see something he didn't like. His family have moved on after all, he knew this.

Harry held his hand in a tight fist and apparated with a loud crack.

His first thought was of utter relief, and then disappointment. Ginny and James no longer lived in their old house. Harry couldn't think of a way to find them now. And if he was honest, he didn't want to see them. Colin would just come looking for him again.

Harry didn't want to apparate again. He wanted to be saved. He wanted ... He wanted Colin. Harry's breath became labored, he looked around him but couldn't see. It was so, so bright. why was it so bright?

Harry held his chest. It felt heavy as if all the important things in there had been turned to stone. He looked around again. He knew this place, but it seemed so, so very different.

How long had he been away?

Harry's panic spiked, tears formed in his eyes and he was gasping for breath now, wheezing, choking noises coming from his lips. He wanted to be back inside.

He needed Colin, and Colin needed Harry. Why did he leave?

Another glance around the bright street, Harry's vision tunnled, black seeping into the edges. Everything sounded like it was so far away.

He forgot to breathe all together.

Harry bent forward, his legs moving of their own accord to keep him balanced and only serving to move him three steps before he pitched forwards onto the pavement in a dead faint.

How are you feeling?" Harry asked Colin, who wandered into their little kitchen and sat at the table.

"Better," Colin replied, "I slept through last night, no vomiting, mild headache."

"Good," Harry said, "it's good you're finally accepting your problem."

"I don't have a problem," Colin said, looking at Harry with pure shock. Harry returned the look with his own, disbelieveing face.

"Colin you've been in severe alcohol withdrawal for five weeks!"

"It's not - I don't - I can stop whenever I want," Colin said, "I, like, I have, see?"

"You've been acting like a child, begging for beer like a fucking blankie!"

"I haven't, Harry I don't have a problem!"

"I've been feeding you, washing you, putting up with your problems and your bullshit all this time for nothing!"

"It's not for nothing, Harry, I stopped by myself! By myself!"

"I HAD TO HELP!" Harry screamed in his face, "All this fucking time and you're supposed to be looking after me, that's what you told me, remember? Well who's had to feed sad baby Colin for two months?"

"SHUT UP!" Colin screamed, standing up from his chair making it fall onto the tiles with a loud bang, Harry flinched at the sound as Colin towered over him. Colin picked up his cereal bowl and smashed it on Harry's head, causing the older man to whimper and fall to the ground.

"I'VE BEEN LOOKING AFTER YOU! I'VE BEEN LOOKING AFTER YOU! I DON'T HAVE A PROBLEM, NO PROBLEMS HARRY!"

Harry recognized another uncontrolled rage coming on, and Colin didn't stop shouting as he glared at Harry and viciously laid kicks into Harry's sides and chest. When Harry tried to climb to his feet he was hit across the back with a kitchen chair and kicked again and again in the stomach.

Colin could see red, and nothing else, after everything he did for Harry fucking Potter he was still trying to be a sad martyr, after everything Colin went through - he gave up his alcohol for the sorry sack of meat.

Colin didn't register Harry's cries as he wailed for his attacker to stop, he could not hear the crack off his love's ribs or the haggard, desperate coughs which had Harry spitting up blood.

Colin beat the boy until he tried to run, and then he beat the boy until he tried to crawl, and he beat the boy, seeing nothing but something to take out his anger and desperation and pain in front of him. Colin didn't realize it was Harry he was hitting until Harry was dead.

"Harry?"

It seemed like an age for calm to finally reach him, but Colin did managed a couple of deep breaths. His pounding headache was back and his eyes were blurred from muck and tears.

He wiped his face, wiped the sweaty hair from his eyes and kneeled by the bloodied mess his Hero was in.

He gently shook the shoulder.

"Harry?" Colin said thickly. The sight before him was not registering. Was not happening, not happening. "Harry?" He asked again, wiping the blood soaked hair out of the beautiful green eyes, eyes full of blood, open eyes, unseeing eyes. "Harry?" Colin stood, taking a step back from the body, he was shaking his head, his hands came to his mouth.

"Harry please?" Colin pleaded, "please. I didn't mean too!"

Colin continued to shake his pounding head, he couldn't see, his vision was swimming.

"I DIDN'T MEAN TOO!" He cried sobs wracked his frame and he looked at the body of his lover once more.

Colin stumbled, grabbing the upright pantry and then he fell, pulling the large cupboard with him in a dead faint.

Ginny Morris was watching James and Arty play a game. James was five years old, Arty only one and it was frightening to see the boys play because so many times would one of them do something that could nearly kill the other - she appreciated her own mother so much more now.

Arty started to cry, putting James right off and Ginny scooped him up and rocked him gently.

"He's just getting tired," She assured James, who nodded whilst releasing a huge yawn. "You too Jamie?" Ginny asked the little boy who nodded.

"Mum!" James said as she led him to his bedroom.

"Hmmm?"

"Why can't I have a real daddy too?"

Ginny sighed. It wasn't that Palmer didn't treat James like a son, he loved James like his own, but James was the spitting image of his real father, his rather Famous father.

Harry had been declared dead twelve months previously. He had gone missing, and whether he had run off or was taken was never really said, whether he was alive or not never known. They point is no one was looking for him, and Ginny believed he wasn't looking for them.

"You're daddy, your real daddy," Ginny began to her sleepy son, "Was called Harry, and he was a very, very good man, he was so good, everyone else made him solve all their problems, and one day, he needed a break from everyone, and he went on a very long holiday. He was so sad that he had to leave you, James, but Palmer loves you just like a real daddy."

James nodded, and Ginny could tell he didn't understand, nor did he seem upset in the slightest.

"My dad's name is Harry?" James asked. Ginny nodded.

"Harry James Potter."

"I wish my real daddy didn't have to leave me behind." James said with another yawn. Ginny bent down to kiss his head.

"Me too baby, me too."

Colin awoke surrounded by spirits.

He grabbed a bottle and uncorked it, the pantry had fallen and the alcohol had rolled out. Harry had kept them- hid them. For him.

Colin looked at the bottle. It was it's fault Harry was dead - the headaches and nightmares, shakes and hallucinations, mood swings and unshakable depressions. All the alcohol's fault. But Colin could not stop himself from bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a long, unhealthy swig of the liquid. It was poor quality, and it burned down his throat, leaving an unpleasant aftertaste.

Colin sobbed, he would not look at Harry's body, if he didn't, it could all be a horrible dream. He took another long swig all the while groping around himself to find his next drink.

Bottle after bottle was guzzled down, vodka, rum, whiskey, wine, vodka, rum, whiskey, wine. Colin Creevey fell into a stupor, his confused mind slowed, eventually the iron grip on his bottle was given up and it rolled away from him across the tiles, though the blond man didn't notice.

His skin broke out in goosebumps and still he didn't move, his breathing slowed, his skin slowly tinged blue, his lips went blue, his breathing became irregular and soon Colin shut his tired baby blue eyes, and never woke up again.

But he won Harry Potter, and would have him forever. He took his mind, he took his body and he took his life.