Author's note: I am so sorry for my disappearance! Life has been chaotic, but I should be back to the usual updates now. Thank you for the continued support and encouragement!

-Chapter 13- The Breakdown

Accompanying Song: M4 Pt. II - Faust (Mass Effect Soundtrack)

Hermione had avoided hospitals after the war. After too many that she knew and loved had taken their final breath between these walls, she could never look at it the same. The chemical smell, the sterility of every visible surface, the eerie silence. Stepping from the receiving room into the hall, she found her breath caught.

When was the last time good news had come from anyone in a hospital?

Each click of her trainers against the linoleum echoed through the corridors. Each room she passed held the haunting memory that begged her to pay tribute to those they had lost. Still, she floated forward as if a line was hooked to her rib cage, one that drew her closer and closer to the inevitable. One that left her heart aching.

She could not recall the words that were said to her as she collapsed at his side. She could not recall how long she had spent unmoving on the edge of his bed or how she had managed to get them to allow her stay despite the strict visiting hours for non-family.

She could vividly recall, though, the way he looked so vulnerable, like a ghost against the stark white hospital bed sheets. The way that the vibrant crimson had bloomed and seeped through the bandages that had been wound around his torso. The way that he lay unmoving, unresponsive to her touch.

The way she simply could not leave him here alone.

A day had passed and a warm hand was on her shoulder, Harry apologizing profusely as he went over and over what had transpired during their mission, but his words were like all the others, distant and foggy. It was as if she was not a part of her body any longer, just a spirit doomed to linger over the scene below.

Another day and she had heard the words 'magically induced coma' echo around the room as the nurses passed through.

There was a gentle tap of fingers against wood. The only acknowledgement from Hermione was a slight flick of her eyes to the healer before they were once more trained on the blond.

"Miss Granger…?"

She was met with silence.

"Miss Granger, please do not feel obligated to wait. We can notify you immediately if there has been any change in his condition"

"I would like to stay here, thank you." Her voice was hoarse, having only been used for pleading whispers and choking, begging sobs.

"Please, there is no need for you to waste your time here."

She turned, an incredulous look shot to the healer. "Waste my time? Why ever would you think that?"

"Miss Granger… you know who he is. What he has done…" She trailed off, her gaze averting.

"Are you suggesting that he deserves such a fate?"

"He has committed horrible acts. We all must answer for our sins." Her voice was firm, matter of fact.

"If I may ask, exactly what sins do you believe he is atoning for." Her heart hammered against her chest, the rise and fall of which has begun to accelerate.

"Miss Granger, you know exactly what I am talking about and what he has done." The front of her apron was gathered, nervously wrung between her fingers.

"That is where you are mistaken." She was on her feet, her hands furling and unfurling at her sides. "I am aware of what other Death Eaters and even Voldemort himself had done, but I would like to know what atrocious acts had been committed by this man to warrant him to be nearly killed."

"He killed people!"

"No, he did not. He may not have been innocent, but he never took a life."

"His family furthered the war! They were integral parts!" She stood her ground, stepping further into the room.

"He was a child!"

"So was my sister! She was a muggleborn! She was killed because of his beliefs, because of people like him! How does he deserve life when people like him robbed her of it?!"

"And you are harboring the same type of prejudices that divided our people more than once. It is a disservice to her memory!"

"No. It is the truth. People like him deserve the same thing they inflicted on the rest of us: misery."

Hermione took a deep breath, an attempt to regain her composure. The rage coursing through her left her shaking.

"Leave us," she managed to grind out.

"But—"

"I said leave us!" Her pitch rose, a barely contained shriek. Crackling energy ripped through her hair like lightning in a cloud. A warning of the currently unstable magic just below the surface of the grief stricken woman.

Pursing her lips, the healer stalked out of the room, the door rattling against the frame in her wake.

A shaking hand combed back through her hair as she settled on the edge of the bed. It was an inevitable conversation, but still she was unprepared. It was a conversation she knew she would have with an increasing frequency as their relationship was flung further into the public eye.

Would she ever be able to handle it without her emotions flaring?

As she settled next to him, she inched herself closer to his form until her body molded to fit against his side. She drew the thick, woven quilt over the two of them. It seemed like weeks since she last lay beside him. The pad of her thumb rolled over the porcelain skin of his wrist, tracing the veins and tendons beneath. His pulse fluttered weakly below her touch, light enough that she often second guessed herself whether she actually felt it or not. Her heavy eyes were trained unblinking on the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

Enough sleepless hours had passed that she had memorized the curve of his features and slopes of his cheeks. She had committed to memory each cut, scrape and scar across the expanse of his exposed form. She had traced the outline of each mark marring his body, as if she could will them away. Still there was no change in the rate of his heart, and no sign he would awake.

Only days ago she had been in Ginny's kitchen uncertain of their future. Uncertain of where they may be within the coming months. Uncertain whether she had made the right decisions.

None of it mattered anymore. Such matters seemed so trivial and fickle.

"Draco…. I know you're…" She hesitated as she searched for the words to say.

"It's been days. It's been days since I last heard your sarcastic drawl mocking me for some mundane task I do the muggle way. It's been days since you last grumbled about Crookshank's fur seeming to find its way to all of your clothing. It's been days since groaned about Harry and me ganging up on you over lunch." Her breath hitched.

"It has been days since you last cradled my belly as we lay with one another. Since I last heard your contagious laugh. Since I last tasted your lips."

She could feel the prickle of tears behind her eyes as she savored the memory of each moment she took for granted.

"I know that this all happened so fast, and I know that under any other circumstance we may never have come together, but I-I don't know what I would do without you." She paused to glance downwards towards her abdomen, the slightest of bumps beginning to pull her shirt tighter than usual. "I don't know what we would do without you."

The realization dawned on her. It wasn't just that someone that had so quickly become a constant in her life would be gone. If, Merlin forbid, he never awoke, he would never meet their unborn child. Their child would grow up without a father, without knowing the man that worked so hard to be better in the face of adversity. He would miss their birth, their first step, their first word, their first day waiting for the train to Hogwarts.

That was the thought she could not stand.

She pulled herself to his chest, her face buried into the crook of his neck. "Draco, please." Her words broke with a sob. "I need you to recover, I can't do this on my own."

A flutter of movement, faint like the brush of a downy feather, skimmed across her side. Hermione froze, her breath caught in her throat as she looked to the hand that had not moved in days.

"I did not know you felt so strongly," his signature drawl was buried in the rasp of his unused voice.

"Draco!"

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she threw herself into him. Her body heaved with each sob, her words muffled into his skin. Draco winced under the sudden weight against his battered body. His arm gingerly held him to her and he bowed his head down to nuzzle his face into her curls.

"It's just," she started. "I thought-I didn't want," her sentences all broke, unable to bring herself to say those words.

"You thought I would let a little scratch get the best of me?" He feigned hurt, mustering his best shocked face.

Hermione sat up with a scowl. "Draco Malfoy, you're such a..." She trailed off as she looked at him. He might be awake, but he was far from out of the woods. The color still had not returned to his skin, instead pale and covered in several bruises that ranged from a deep blue to a fading yellow.

She cradled his cheek in her palm. "I thought I lost you," she whispered.

"It appears you as still stuck with me." Despite his condition, he attempted to make light of the situation.

"Why would you even agree to that mission?" Her voice was small, almost timid.

"Hermione. You know how it is. I am an auror, Harry is my partner."

"I could have lost you, though!" The rise in her voice lessened. "We could have lost you."

"Harry's family could lose him too. I am certain Ginny feels the same as you do, love."

Hermione hesitated as she thought his response over. She knew she should just be glad that he was awake, that he was alive. The logic in her brain screamed that, but the fear in her heart was louder. This was certainly not going to be the last time the pair got into dangerous situations. What would she do in the future? What would she do if something did happen to him?

"Why did you have to become an auror?"

Draco's head fell back against the pillow once more. "I suppose that you are going to continue until I give you a real answer?"

She only nodded.

Draco sighed softly, running his fingers back through his hair."I.. I was seeking out death, and if it could be a noble one then that was all the motivation I needed. This was my answer to that calling."

Hermione's brows furrowed as she attempted to school her features to hide the shock. How could someone have so little disregard for their own life? He wasn't a bad person. Misguided, perhaps, but not bad.

The healer had been just as critical about him as he was being on himself.

That the events that had transpired during and after the war had caused him to feel this way tore at her heartstrings. Sure, her own life had its ups and downs, but she never felt so low as to have no regard if she still existed or not. Here was the man she had grown to love not only admitting he did not care for his own life, but that he actively put himself in harm's way.

"Draco…" Hermione cradled one of his hands between hers. "I can't change the past, but our futures are now intertwined. Please, I am begging you, to think twice from now on. I can't promise that every day will wonderful, but I will do all that I can to give you reason to come back from these damn missions in one piece."

Reaching forward, Draco cupped the back of her neck to draw her to him where his lips captured hers in a searing kiss. Tender caresses and gentle kisses were continued to be pressed to all visible skin across both of them. Their movements were slow, savoring each touch from the other that had been so sorely missed.

"I love you…"