A/N: Yes, people, I am still alive. You're most loathed, procrastinating author is alive and kicking, albeit a bit sleep deprived, stressed out, and extremely frazled. Junior year is not agreeing with me. I think I must be alergic.

Lame jokes aside though, I have to apologize for how long this took. No excuses this time, I'm just sorry.

IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ:

And, last but not least (Stay with me now, people) I'd just like to say that this chapter is going to throw you for a loop. This is probably the most abstract thing I've ever written for this site, and hopefully some of you will really love it, but I have a feeling some of you will not like it, or get it, at all. Either way I want to know what you think. Don't feel guilty about it, just tell me. I really do want to know.

Oh yeah, and italics are flashbacks to previous chapters. These flashbacks are not necessarily in any order whatsoever, but they did all happen in this fic. You might remember them.

LPOV:

Everyone knows what a storm is. There's no need to describe it. It's that time when the earth decides to throw a little tantrum, and suddenly buckets of water are pouring from the sky, the wind is howling like a wounded animal, lightning is hurling downwards at about a gazillion trillion miles per hour, and the thunder is booming like there's no tomorrow. We've all been there. We've all sat on our front porch and stared up at nature's temperamental side in awe.

It's that time when you realize just how weak and puny you truly are, in the big scheme of things. That time when you figure you could be dead tomorrow. Or now, come to think of it. That time when you stare at those beautiful streaks of light racing through the sky, both amazed at their terrible beauty and scared shitless that maybe, just maybe, next time you won't be quite so lucky.

It's one of those inexplicable times when you feel close to yourself, closer than usual. Sometimes a little too close for comfort.

CRACK!

The thunder sounded, it's distant echo reverberating throughout the chasms of the owlery, our present shelter. James whimpered slightly, and I held him tighter, whilst giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. I'm here, I wanted to say, Don't worry, I'm here.

But I couldn't. The words wouldn't come. My throat suddenly felt dry as sandpaper.

I held him as though for dear life, one arm loped around his shoulders, pulling him close to me, the other entwined in his sweaty palm. He was my lifeline. My floatation device. My salvation. And who knows, maybe I was his?

We didn't speak. I'd made a few feeble attempts at conversation when first we'd arrived at the owlery, but it was soon apparent that James wasn't in a particularly talkative mood. Instead, we just sat there, our backs growing steadily sorer from the hard stone wall they rested upon, our hands gripping each others tighter and tighter with each crack of thunder, and our hearts racing, thudding in our chests, a sound nearly equal to that of the din of the heavens.

He was closer to me than ever before. I'd never let him hold onto me like this. Never held another human being such as I held him now. And yet, it was an estranged kind of closeness. Like there was a curtain dividing us. Like we were thousands of miles apart, held together by a string. He was here with me now, but he wasn't. He was far away.

So was I.

I was sitting on the cold tiled floor, and he was apologizing to me for hurting me. But I wouldn't have any of it. I was shaking in anger. I was screaming at him. Something about fairy tales, and knights in shining armor, not particularly caring what came out. The objective was to hurt him, as much as he'd hurt me. Not to speak eloquently.

'CRACK!' went the thunder. A low moan escaped James' lips. The pressure increased on my rapidly numbing hand.

I suddenly heard James' voice, as clearly as though he were whispering in my ear right now, but I knew that couldn't be true. If anything, James was far from here and now, retreated inside himself to hide from the storm.

"Of course my apology was sincere! If it wasn't, I wouldn't be arguing with you over it!" he'd screamed at me. And I'd secretly loved how that passion filled voice had made me feel. Wanted. Needed. Even loved.

'Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter,' went the rain, like a distant cadence, sounding in between the symphony of thunder and lightning.

"Why are you afraid of me Lily?" James' tender voice sounded again in my head, sending my mind reeling, back to that moment of terror in the kitchen, "I wouldn't hurt you. I love you. You know that."

He said it so certainly, so confidently, I found myself wanting to believe him. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to believe he spoke the truth. It was that desperate, hold-on-for-dear-life-till-your-knuckles-go-white-and-your-fingers-numb kind of yearning, and that's what frightened me most.

"You don't love me." I said to him, my voice trembling as I did. But I said it more to myself than to James. He didn't love me. He couldn't. I simply wouldn't allow it. That's what I made myself believe.

CRACK! BOOM! CRACK!

And another whimper from James.

Cue the music.

CRACK! BOOM! CRACK!

This time a groan.

"I know you don't trust me," James had said to me, "And not without good reason either, but I trust you. I don't know if it means anything to you, but I do."

And though I would never have admitted it for all the galleons on earth back then, it had meant something. It had felt good. Floating-up-into-the-sky-on-freakin-cloud-nine good. He was right, I didn't trust him. To bestow your trust upon another was a big deal, a huge step. It was a gift really. One that I was happy to receive, but not quite so enthusiastic to give in return.

CRACK!

We were sitting by the lake, dangling our feet into the ice-cold water. We'd just resolved not to argueanymore, and things were getting more awkward by the minute. Finally James spoke up, "Questions," he said, "Questions are a perfectly good, non screaming/cursing/throwing-of-heavy-objects way of getting to know a person, don't you think?"

And I'd laughed. It was funny. He was funny. It was nice being able to laugh with him. Nice to share stories that meant nothing and everything. Nice to just be with him, no strings attached.

He'd broken the ice back then. And he'd done it by diving right on in.

I wanted to follow him, but I couldn't.

The water was too cold.

Pounding rain, like giant footsteps overhead. Booming thunder, louder than ever, slowly building in volume and in scorn. The storm seemed to be reaching its climax now, where it went from there, was anyone's guess.

We were back in the common room now, and I was screaming my lungs out, raising my voice as loud as it would go. My voice was so loud, it was pounding in my brain, reverberating through the cavities of my being. All thought process had long ago ceased, and all that I was left with was a distinct awareness that the room seemed to be heating up…

BOOM!

Now I was back in time, sitting on the edge of a bathtub and laughing at some stupid comment James had made. I sliced my hand blindly through the water, in a desperate attempt to splash him.

He laughed, "There you go Lily!" He encouraged, "See, was that so hard?"

It wasn't. Smiling with him around wasn't hard. Being with him wasn't so hard either, really. When we were being civil with one another, and even when we really weren't, it was one of the easiest, nicest feelings in the world.

CRACK!

Back in the kitchens now. I was telling him again, "You don't love me."

There was only the slightest pause, and then he answered back. Steadily, defiantly, "I do. I love you Lily."

BOOM!

The kitchens once again. Before our second fight. He was trying to feed me out of his hand like a pigeon, and I wasn't having any of it. He sighed, and asked, "Don't you trust me Lils?"

His original question had been teasing. And my answer had been much the same. Jovial, but with the slightest hint of bitterness.

His response hadn't been quite so carefree though. As a matter of fact, it had been dead serious. "Why not?"

CRACK!

"Why not?" Potter had asked me, "Why not? Why not?"

Hiss, whoosh, BOOM!

Why not? I asked myself, as I recalled the way his fingers danced across my skin in the tub, like little pinpricks of lightning, racing to melt my icy heart. And the feeling I'd got when I'd finally given in to his incessant assault. I'd felt warm, I'd felt safe, I'd felt happy. Happier than I'd felt in a long, long time.

CRACK! Bang! … piter-patter, pitter-patter…

Why not Lils?

Lils. The way he said my nickname, the way it just glided off his tongue and into the open air, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. It sent my spirits soaring, and my mouth twitching into a smile, usually without my consent. I couldn't help but grin, whenever my name launched from his lips.

Why not?

BOOM! CRACK!

Why not?

"I love you Lily." He said to me, even as he shoved me up against the wall. I looked straight into his eyes then, and what I saw in there was not at all what I'd expected to see.

Fear.

And I'd thought I was the one being pinned to a wall by their psycho non-lover.

Why not?

CRACK! BOOM!

"Why are you afraid of me Lily?" he asked me again.

I'd never really answered that question. I'd assumed it was obvious… at the time at least.

Now, I wasn't quite so sure.

Why not?

Woosh! Bang!

"I love you Lily." He said to me, his eyes conveying multitudes of intense emotions, chief among them, fear.

I wonder if he had that same look in his eye when he'd told me he trusted me.

"I trust you Lily."

"I love you."

"I would never hurt you."

Why not?

CRACK!

I was standing on the top of a tall tower, looking over the side at an endless black abyss. Billy Sampson stood beside me.

"Don't be afraid," he said to me, "I won't let you fall, I promise."

I looked back over the side apprehensively.

And did a double take when I realized I was looking down into James' beaming face.

He smiled up at me. A wide, crooked smile that made my insides want to melt like butter.

Then he broke that smile, and spoke.

"Jump," he said, "I'll catch you."

A/N: There was going to be dialogue in this chapter, but I cut it out. Next chapter will have the big heart to heart between James and Lily. I really felt like it was important, that in this chapter at least, they faced their fears alone. In life, people are gonna come along that make you want to face those things that scare you, but all they can really do is usher you over to them. No one else can face your fears for you. In the end, it all comes down to you, and only you. It's when you face those fears for somebody else, that's what makes it beautiful.