WHO: James & Lily Potter
WHAT: He's home
WHEN: This morning
WHERE: Potter residence

It had to be nearing ten in the morning.

With every blink, James felt more exhausted, with every breath he was sure his body was going to give out and let him collapse to the ground. His mind only worked from second to second, he couldn't focus on what had happened five minutes prior for any longer than that. He couldn't stand to recall Derek's reaction and his face---they'd all been beaten and battered, cloaks torn up and bloody. Remus looking as if he'd just gone through a full moon when there wasn't one in sight. James breathed heavy, shuddering breaths as he stared at the doorknob to their front door, trying to stop the jumbled, frantic thoughts racing through his head. He needed them to stop, they had to stop because at some point they'd get back to the one thing he needed to never think about again because if he did---

James grabbed at the doorknob, twisting it harshly and too quickly, jerking it forward and back before he finally was able to push himself in and shut the door behind him. Each step felt like a journey, and the silence of the house felt heavy on his chest. Lily had to be here, the Order house was deemed unsafe, for now, until they could figure out what the death eaters had found out from---from--

"Lily?" James croaked, hands grabbing at the side of his head as if it would stop his thoughts from jumping to that to--her. He couldn't think about it--her, he couldn't let his mind fall onto those thoughts because if he did, if he let himself---James pulled off his glasses because they were wet and he could fucking kill himself for thinking about her---"Lily!"

The sound of the door opening violently caused Lily to start and jump up from her place on their bed. She threw the novel she had been reading aside and swiped her wand off of the bedside table in a little under two seconds flat, crouched in a ready position. If she had cared enough at the time to think about it, she probably looked completely ridiculous, ready for a fight with a Death Eater on top of her own bed and staring out into the upstairs hallway like a deer caught in the headlights, listening for any sign of who had just pushed themselves through the front door. But the paranoia was completely necessary--and on a morning like this, when all she was allowed to do was sit around and wait for her husband to return home either alive or dead, yes, Lily Potter was on edge.

She let out a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding at hearing her name--James' voice, it was the best sound she'd ever heard, Christ---, and her muscles relaxed instantly. Stuffing her wand in her back pocket, Lily got off the bed and rushed towards the stairs. His second call only made her feet move faster... and the sight of him in the entry way had her sprinting.

Oh God, he looked---there weren't even words for it, he looked like---like he'd been to Hell and back. "Oh Merlin, James," Lily gasped, moving to support him, because he looked like he was about to fall over and die. She had seen him in bad shape before, they'd both been in bad shape before, but this was beyond anything---he really looked like--- She steered him into the living room and helped him lower himself down onto the couch, the second he was sitting running into the kitchen to grab gauze, pain potions---everything they had.

When she came back, she dumped it all out of her arms and onto the table and turned to take him in again. The sight brought a burning pain in her chest, and it was like someone had poured salt into the open wound that was all of her frustration at being left behind. This was not okay---he could not seriously expect her to stay quietly at home while he went out and---he was going to get killed.

It was terrible how normal this felt. James had come home bloody before, usually with Lily by his side, but she more often than not took control of the healing. Kind of ironic, seeing as he was the one with the actual healer training, but James had no desire to take charge right now. He let Lily move him, sit him down, tug and pull at his arms and face to get a better look at his injuries. There was stinging, there had been glass shattering somewhere, so he had lacerations and---it was his chest that hurt. James tried to think if he'd been slashed by one of those terribly painful wordless spells, but he couldn't recall getting close enough. No, that pain was just his heart bottling away the fact that she had--

James dropped his chin, feeling his chest tighten as the thoughts resurfaced. If he didn't think about it, if he didn't let it consume his mind then he could survive this. If he let these thoughts take the prominent position in his mind that they wanted to, then he would never be able to move from this position on the couch, he'd never be able to lift his head again, he'd never--she'd never---

"Lily," her name sounded like a cough, his voice crackled with pain. Emotional, physical, there was no telling it apart now and James finally gathered enough energy to lift his head again. He couldn't imagine how he looked; dirty, bloody, face contorted with tears he was forcing not to fall. "Lily---they----"

How could he say this again? He'd already told---Derek, he had to tell Derek first, he had to know that the future he'd begun to plan was---gone, gone and never--gone and dead, his future was dead, and now---how could he do this again? How could he do this again when he hadn't been able to accept it himself? "Dorcas, they---she's---"

He choked on his stuttered words, hunching over again as he felt like dying along with his cousin. Dorcas was "---dead!" he let out, tears finally breaking free with a sob.

It was as if she'd swallowed an ice cube. Cold numbness seemed to trickle its way down Lily's body, freezing her in place, and her heart clenched tight in her chest. A potion vial dropped from her suddenly shaking hand, only saved from destruction by the cushion of the carpet, and her other hand gripped James' knee unintentionally.

"She's---wh---" Lily couldn't even finish her own words, it was like she'd been slammed in the face with a brick wall, and now--Dorcas was---No, no, she couldn't, that was---crazy. It was just---crazy, how could Dorcas be---she was an Auror, she was---engaged, she was getting married! So it made no sense for her to be----no, she wasn't dead. That wasn't right. That was just---not possible. Even as she watched her husband's face contort in pain, watched him be diminished to a sobbing wreck, Lily couldn't believe it. It wasn't possible that Dorcas Meadows was dead. Dorcas, who they'd gone to school with, who---who was one of the only family either of them had left---who they fought alongside and who---no, no no no no. That was not right. That wasn't--

They had never lost anyone in battle before. The Order had never---people got hurt terribly, people lost limbs and got scarred and tortured and---but---no one ever died when they went out to fight. How could it be that they had lost someone now? How could it be that that someone was---why her? Why her?

Her vision of James was blurred before she realized the change. She didn't even feel the tears that had been streaming down her cheeks as she looked up at her husband's face, screwed tight with an even stronger grief than was strangling her. She had only seen him like this once before, when---

Somewhere in her, Lily found the power to make her legs work, to lift herself onto the couch and grab James and pull him over to her. She gripped onto him as tightly as she could while still being conscious of how injured he was, and buried her face in the crown of his head. This was---this was not right. This was not fair. How could this have happened?

James fell quickly into Lily's tight embrace, unable to lift his own arms to hold her even though he desperately wanted and needed to. This pain wasn't something he was used to, he couldn't remember feeling like this, so honestly sad and completely heartbroken.

He was so used to being angry. James had been angry for the past two years of his life; since his time in France, there hadn't been a day where he didn't feel a boiling rage in his gut. He was remarkably good at hiding it, he'd always been a quick talker that could smooth over any bump his emotions might have, when necessary. James never let his anger keep him from having fun, from enjoying a moment or creating hilarious chaos (he still managed to terrorize people with lame jokes and stupid pranks, that was innate). He'd been so angry after France, he had been angry at himself when the healers told him he and Lily wouldn't be able to conceive---

Furious when Sirius was taken and hidden away right under their nose, when Marlie was killed for no reason outside of being at home, he was---he had literally agreed to murdering someone, a man, the Minister of fucking Magic without a bat of the eye. There had been guilt, he'd been consumed with guilt after the fact, but the rage at the atrocities he was willing to lay upon the muggleborns---

There was no anger now. It confused him greatly, when he managed a clear thought through his crying. Why wasn't he angry? He had every right to be screaming and hurling hexes and breaking bones, but all James could do was cry. His entire body was shaking with his tears, he felt like it was all he'd ever be able to do. Why wasn't he chasing down Voldemort (he had killed her, he had been smiling--), why was he sitting here instead of releasing his anger and getting revenge?

Feeling Lily's own shaky breaths forced James to focus, pushing everything away but her. James felt another feeling rise up in his stomach, and he pushed back the guilt as he attempted to speak again. He needed to regain some control, he had to get everything out, for her sake, for the baby, "They---Dearborn, Caradoc showed up to---fight, and---they can't find his body," James said, blinking slowly as he looked up to Lily.

The news just got worse and worse, didn't it? Bitterly, Lily wondered when James was going to lay the last death of the night on her---after all, these things came in threes, didn't they? They'd lost Dorcas, they'd lost Caradoc... who next? Sirius? Remus or Peter? Frank? Ben? Could things possibly get any worse than they had just gotten?

It wasn't as if Lily had felt the same sort of love for Caradoc Dearborn as she had for her cousin-in-law, but he was also their companion, whom they fought alongside, whom they saved and were saved by. Even if she hadn't been greatly fond of the Slytherin---the Order was a bond between all its members, far stronger than friendship. So when her husband's mouth opened up to let out the words of Caradoc's fate, another sobbing cry choked her and caused her to raise a hand to her face.

This was---she was a mess, she was a wreck, wasn't she? Here she had been ready to console James after what he'd been through and now she was sitting around crying like a baby just like he was. She was so useless to him like this, bloody hell, Lily thought. She wiped furiously at her eyes, covering them from view for a long moment before finding gaining control of herself to be fruitless and giving up the effort. Stupid---hormones, she'd always had more self control than this, hadn't she? When there was something she needed to do for James' sake, she always found a way to pull through and do it, right? So---stupid hormones, that was what she was going to blame, and---oh, but she wished she could stop crying!

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry---" she mumbled weepily. "I'm supposed to---I'm trying to m--make you feel better and I'm---acting---like this. I'm not doing---a very good job---sorry."

His head began to shake, slowly and determinedly. No, no Lily should not be apologizing to him. She hadn't done anything wrong, she hadn't started this war, she hadn't decided that they were going to have a personal vendetta straight from Voldemort, she hadn't told Dorcas to be a damn good auror and piss off the death eaters so bad that---

"No, no, stop it---" James mumbled, hands going up to grab at the side of her face. His fingers pushed into her hair, heart pounding at the feeling---Lily was okay. Throughout everything, through the shouting and the pain and the terror and the fear, James had kept himself up and moving because he knew Lily would kill him if he didn't. If he didn't come home to her, if he didn't get to see her one more time, then there wouldn't be a point in trying anymore. His life would be over, there would be no reason to do anything! As much as James hated sounding like an over dramatic, constantly emoting, angst-filled victim of life and society, there was no doubt in his mind that he would die without Lily.

So constantly reminding himself that it wasn't Lily who had disappeared, who had died, kept James from completely losing his mind. It would sound selfish if he spoke his thoughts out loud, and he doubted he ever would to anyone besides Lily, but just being able to touch her again sent a new surge of strength throughout him. James would be sad and---he didn't know the word to use, he would suffer with the idea that he'd never see Dorcas again, but at the same time know he was going to get through it.

James' thumbs moved to attempt to brush some tears away, and he forced a short smirk of a smile at her, "Just--lie with me, will you?" he pleaded softly. They didn't even have to move from the couch; James felt himself pulling her closer already, hands dropping to her shoulders, brushing down her arms.

Something in Lily's heart lightened, she felt some heavy weight lifting at seeing James smirk like that. Even if it was forced, even if she knew there was no way he could be feeling it given the situation, the fact that he could force it---there was something to be said for that. Were he in complete and total despair, were he feeling so thoroughly upset that he just didn't want to do anything anymore, didn't want to live anymore, he wouldn't have been able to do that.

They'd both seen those moments in the past few years; Lily thought that they probably had more experience with the lowest of lows than most people ever would--so, so she knew that even though it wasn't much, it was a huge something. It was a small sign that he was going to get through this. Not today, or tomorrow, or next week, or probably even within the next month, but. Eventually.

She took a deep breath and she reached her hand up to do away with the rest of the tears that had fallen, offering him a ghost of a smile. See, Lily knew she had self control. She could stop crying, it was just---it was so good to know that, in the middle of all of this, her husband wasn't going to turn into a walking corpse because of all that he'd just been through. After all, she would have to beat him up if he started acting like that right before they were going to have a baby---James Potter did not get to leave her alone now, of all times.

"There's nothing else I'd rather do." One more battle passed, two more friends killed, and somehow they were both still there. It had to be some kind of a bloody miracle.