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In Sickness and In Sparta
Lily never got around to unpacking the boxes.
At first, it was simply because they were daunting. The whole lot of them. She felt as though she were the boxes. Packed and shipped to a different city. A different teaching job with different kids that she didn't know. The same old boxes and the same old Lily shoved into something completely new.
She had never once set up a place of her own without her mother's help. How was she supposed to know what sort of cabinet was best for cups or plates? Or how to display a photo collage in a way that didn't look like it was done by one of her primary students?
Then it was because they made a good fort for her to hide away in. The boxes that is. She spent a whole afternoon piling them up in her unfurnished-apart-from-a-single-couch living room, and eating microwave popcorn while watching Signs for the hundredth time, and somehow still managing an unearthly shriek whenever the alien crossed her screen.
After that, after the fort that collapsed after a single day, and the sulking over her long-gone mother, she managed to unpack a single box. It was progress, she suspected and patted herself on the back as she stacked her novels neatly on the small shelf next to her bed. But it was when she reached down for the last book in the box - an older, very worn down copy of Peter Pan - that she slumped and broke down.
Lily had written her name inside of it in the neatest handwriting she could muster at ten years old, but not before crossing Petunia's name out first. As one does, of course, when their sister, who owned the book first, never cared for it properly.
But it was her mother's handwriting - scribbled and scrawled out on the inside cover when she opened the book - that did it for her.
For you, my darling girls. May you find your own adventure as you go through life, and when I'm no longer with you, simply look for the second star to the right and carry straight on till morning.
A week.
That's what she had allowed herself. A week to get adjusted, a week to not look at the boxes, a week to read Peter Pan until her eyes burned from lack of sleep and the words were etched in her mind. A week to get it together.
But a week later she woke up impossibly sick.
James and Sirius had a reputation. A notorious reputation for throwing the best parties. The type of parties that those lucky enough to attend would talk about for weeks, even months later. Assuming they could remember, of course. Sirius and James would entertain and delight with a mixture of funny stories and games they had invented that everyone had to join in on.
Last year's Halloween game, a scavenger hunt, had been their best yet. James had been amazed at how willing the guests had been to go out in costume, and acquire all the items on their lists.
Trying to convince an angry and confused farmer why you needed a live chicken at half eleven at night, while dressed as a zombie doctor, was a skill not many possessed. The fact so many of the guests got arrested was a testament to that.
These games were nothing, of course, compared to the pranks James and Sirius set for each other. Each year getting more and more elaborate or daring. Sirius was winning by far in that particular front at the moment, but only because he had spent their last party dressed as a playboy bunny, complete with heels, and without showing any sign of embarrassment. If anyone could have pulled off that look it was most definitely James' best mate.
James desperately wished it was his turn to pick the next costume, not wear it, but alas, that wasn't the case this year. So now the stakes were set impossibly high for James to follow, and he wondered again why he had ever agreed to these. It was Sirius' turn to pick the costumes, and he was dreading it about as much as he had ever worried about anything. When Sirius finally presented him with his chosen outfit the night of the party, James didn't know what to think, but he knew he was not happy.
"Okay, you win the game. I can't. I'm not wearing that." James told his friend resolutely as he held up the pathetic excuse for a costume. Sirius shook his head disappointed with him completely, and gripped his shoulder.
"You most certainly are, and here's why. One," Sirius began in his no nonsense tone that he had somehow picked up from James' mother, ticking the points off with his fingers. "You have the body to pull it off. Two. You are far, far too single and this will get you laid if nothing else. Three. You are the only marauder left that can beat me. Four. You agreed to wear what I picked, and if you back out now you would have to do the forfeit." Sirius' eyes gleamed wickedly as he waggled his eyebrows at the last part. James looked heavenward and sighed deeply.
"Sometimes I really don't like you," he breathed,causing Sirius to grin in reply.
"That's my boy. Now, go get ready."
Resigned to his fate, James took the pathetic excuse for a costume, and went to get changed for their Halloween party.
After a few beers and his third cocktail, James had stopped worrying about what he was wearing, or more correctly not wearing, and started to properly enjoy himself. He was a little uncomfortable about how often the guests wanted to touch his bare chest, and the helmet kept pushing his glasses into his face, but the cape and the boots were cool.
Of course, as was custom with all things regarding Sirius, wearing the costume was simply not enough. Every time someone yelled "this is madness" within his hearing he had to reply with 'this is Sparta!' or suffer yet another challenge. James was determined to think of something truly evil when it was his turn to choose next.
What he did start to worry about, however, was how quickly the supply of drinks was seemingly disappearing. He checked the emergency stash and found that had already been used. The last thing he wanted to do was go out dressed as he was, especially on a chilly October night, but the off-licence was only a short walk away. And so before he could talk himself out of it, he told Sirius where he was going, grabbed his wallet, managed to squeeze it into the tight pocket of the pleather shorts, and opened the front door.
And nearly crashed into the girl who was standing on the other side.
There was a pounding, loud and obnoxious enough to wake Lily up from a deeply medicated sleep, and vibrant enough for Lily to determine a few delirious moments later that it was not, in fact, coming from her own throbbing head.
"What. The. Fuck?" she hissed, jumping out of bed and falling face first against the floorboards. She had completely tangled herself up in her covers with all her sickly tossing and turning apparently. "Dammit!"
After a few moments of clawing and kicking at her sweat drenched sheets, she managed to free herself before standing and shivering.
She was wearing nothing but a thin navy tank top along with some green and navy striped pajama shorts that were sticking to her uncomfortably, but they would have to do.
They would do, she thought. They would be her armor into battle. Her sharp tongue would wield as her sword.
But she still grabbed a throw blanket covered in little Christmas trees - a gift from Petunia that was mailed to her last Christmas- from the couch, wrapping it around her shoulders like a cape as she stalked out the door towards the booming.
It was even louder in the hallway, if that were at all possible, and she found herself covering her ears and grinding her teeth harder with each step.
It was coming from 519, she discovered, as she squinted at the swimming numbers in her blurred vision.
Just a few doors down from her.
Somewhere, either in the back of her head or a million miles away, she heard a voice that sounded oddly like her mother's, scolding her for the first impression she was about to make on her new neighbors.
Sick as a dog, drenched in sweat, wearing barely nothing aside from a blanket cape like a child. Honestly, Lily Evans. At least put some trousers on.
But Lily ignored the voice, telling her conscience-mother that it was rude for her neighbor to be throwing a wild party while she was laying in bed, trying to sleep off a horrible cold.
Not that they knew that she was sick, of course. But still. Common decency and all that rubbish.
She had barely raised her hand to the spider-webbed covered door, preparing to strike it with as much force as a girl with a 103.5 degree fever could possibly do, when it was swung open in front of her.
"Hey!" she cried, outraged. It took her a moment to realize that it hadn't opened on it's own accord, but rather, some stupid, shirtless bloke wearing a helmet - which was far more ridiculous than her blanket cape - had opened it. "That was rude! I was just about to knock!"
"Oh, sorry. No need to knock it's my place. You can just go right on in." He paused as if he was taking her in, his eyes looking her up and down as his brow furrowed. "Erm, that's an interesting costume choice."
"It's not a costume," she hissed, but it came out more like a sniffle. "And I'm sure as hell not stepping a single foot inside your flat! I'm sick. I've been sick for the whole weekend, and just when I was able to get some rest you," she jabbed a finger against his bare chest, " you- whatever it is you're supposed to be...woke me!"
He put his hands up in mock surrender. "Hey! Hey! It's just a party. It is Halloween after all." He looked at her with a touch of concern on his face. "Do you want me to get you something? I'm just heading out, and I can get you some meds if you want. The party is a bit loud I guess, if I'd known…you're new aren't you? Most of the neighbors know us, and either go away the weekends of our parties or just, you know, join in," he rambled. He put his hand up to his head and seemed annoyed that the helmet stopped its movement, so he took it off and ruffled his hair,dropping it back inside the door. "I'm James, welcome to the neighbourhood," he put his hand out then changed his mind and ruffled his hair again. "Nice to meet you, you're very pretty," he stumbled over his words, taking in a deep breath as he leaned back into the flat before yelling and causing Lily to cover her ears with her blanket cape, "Sirius! Turn the music down!"
Lily's eyes darted up to his hair which was greatly disheveled, she assumed, from
his helmet. "Your hair is a right mess. Did you know that?" She could hear the music go down several volumes, the vibrations under her feet settling to a low buzz. "What are you supposed to be anyway?"
He looked down at himself as if he were only just realizing what he was wearing. "I'm a Spartan. Have you seen the movie three hundred?" He shook his head as she looked at him clearly confused. "It doesn't matter anyway. It's a stupid ongoing thing between me and my flatmate. It was his turn to choose. And my hair? I happen to like it. It's always had a mind of its own I've learned to embrace it, and anyway you should see your own hair."
"My hair," she cried, her hands flying up to where she had apparently forgotten about her messy bun before she fell asleep. She could feel the dampness against her fingertips and knew her fringe must be a sweaty mess. "Oh my god, I must look hideous." Her eyes widened up at him. "Do I look like one of those wicked witches in those Disney movies? The ones that offer poison apples?"
"I don't think you could ever look hideous." He said quietly with half a smile, before continuing. "If the wicked witches in those movies looked as lovely as you I'd eaten a lot more apples as a kid." His lopsided grin slid off his face and colour bloomed slightly on his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I don't know why I did. You're sick, you should be in bed. Not having random conversations with an idiot you just met."
"You're lying!" Lily wasn't sure how she had any moisture left in her after all the sweating she had done, but she found herself bursting into tears nonetheless, causing the man in the doorway to jump. "Oh god, I should have listened to that stupid voice inside my head and never have come here! I'm sick and miserable. And now I've gone and made myself look like a sweaty fool in front of my fit neighbor!"
He reached out as if to comfort her before thinking better of it. She watched him look around as if he could find help from the pictures on the walls, his hand flying to his hair again.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I've gone and upset you. I would never lie about a pretty face. I can admit that, perhaps, this is not you at your very best, but hey we all have bad days." He bumped her shoulder gently with his fist in a chin up way. "If you had listened to that voice I wouldn't have got the chance to see you in these PJs and amazing blanket, but I do think you need to rest."
She looked down at her shoulder where he bumped her, confused as she raised her blanket cape up to wipe at her eyes and underneath her nose. What a very mate thing to do, she thought.
"I need a tissue," she said aloud, blinking through more tears. "Do you have one?" she asked, and shook her head as she watched him helplessly pivot around his doorway, as though a box would magically turn up. "No, that's okay. I've got plenty back at my flat. That way?" She pointed with her blanket cape down the hall as though she wasn't entirely sure. "Yeah, that way. I think?"
"Oh, I can't let you go by yourself. In your state you might get lost."
"Good idea," she said, grabbing onto his arm for support as she started to sway. They took several steps down the hallway, Lily squinting so much that she was surprised that she wasn't the one wearing glasses. A Spartan wearing spectacles. How incredibly stupid. She would have to tell him later. "Oh, here we are. I've left my door open it seems. Just watch out for all the boxes when you get inside. There's so many of them," she said, fumbling for the light switch. Her hand smacked against the wall for several moments before she realized the light switch was on the other wall. "Fuck, do you know how stupid you feel when you can't remember where a fucking light switch is? The whole moving process is like losing all the light switches."
It took Lily a moment for her eyes to adjust, the lights in her flat seemingly more fluorescent than those in the hallway. She shielded her eyes with her blanket, watching out of the corner of her eye as the bloke - James she thought was the name he gave her - raised his eyebrows in confusion, watching them disappear behind his fringe, as he took her flat in.
"Nice place," he told her weakly. "Which room's yours?"
"The only one," she said, trying to laugh but ending up coughing hysterically. "I live by myself." She pointed towards the back, still coughing. "Back there's my bedroom."
"Sorry couldn't tell with all the boxes in the way. So no mister...er what's your name?" he asked wrapping his arm around her waist to support her.
"Evans," she said. "My names Lily Evans. And no, there's no significant other in my life at the moment. There hasn't been for a while now, actually."
"Really?" he said sounding pleased, then continued in a more somber tone. "That's too bad Evans. Lily Evans. Can I call someone for you? Or get you some meds? There's a twenty four hour chemists just down the street. Or something to drink? Shoot, Sirius still thinks I'm getting drinks." He took a breath, "Let's get you settled in bed first eh?"
He was talking so fast it was causing her head to spin. Or perhaps that was just the blasted cold, she thought, as the room itself began to rotate. It took seemingly forever for them to reach her bedroom, her legs nearly giving out several times along the way.
"My sheets," she said, collapsing not so elegantly onto her bed, "are on the floor. They're a tangled mess."
"You're okay, I got it." He grabbed an edge, flicking it so it billowed out, settling gently down onto the bed before repeating the action.
"Thank you." She paused, blinking through her fogging state. "Soup."
"Soup?" he asked, confused. "D'you want some soup?"
"Yes, please. I would love some soup. I haven't eaten in nearly a day."
"Okay, sure. I can get you some. You're not a vegan are you?" he tucked the covers in around her as he asked.
"Fuck no. I mean - no offense if you are, but give me bacon or give me death."
He laughed, "I'm so glad to hear you say that, 'cause I don't think I could date a vegan."
"You're cheeky. My kids would love you," she said, flipping over onto her stomach and burying her head in her pillow. "Soup please."
"You've got it, Lily Evans."
"And no, to answer your earlier question," said Lily when he was halfway to the door, causing him to pause, "I never saw that movie. But I know it's basically a bunch of stupidly fit blokes, so you master the part."
James took a deep steadying breath when he was back in the hall, leaning against her door. Smooth Potter real smooth, he thought to himself as he recalled every stupid thing he had said to her. Why did I bump her shoulder?
The way she had squared up to him all righteously indignant about being disturbed, her green eyes squinting at him in anger, and her cute red nose. He automatically went to put the key he had picked up from her counter in his pocket when he remembered what he was wearing and groaned in annoyance. He also needed to update Sirius and realized he didn't have his phone either. Great!
The party was still pretty rowdy when he got back, but fortunately the music had changed to a more low key tempo, and was now at a more sick-neighbourly level. He stuck his head round the door and tried to make it to his room to grab his phone, and at least put on a pair of joggers. He was halfway there when Sirius spotted him.
"Oi! Where's the booze?" his friend yelled.
"I haven't been yet," he replied tightly, rummaging around, annoyed that it wasn't in it's usual spot.
"What d'you mean you haven't been yet?" Sirius leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms. "You were away ages."
"I met our new neighbor in the hall. She's not well and came to complain about the noise. I'm going to get her soup, and I'll get some booze too if you think we still need it? I just wanted to change first." James tried to explain but he already knew what his flat mate was going to say.
"Oh no you don't, you have to stay in that fucking costume for the duration. If I had to be a bunny girl, you have to stay a fucking Spartan." Sirius paused a moment, picking up on James' words. "Our new neighbor's a girl?" James nodded, a grin creeping up on his face.
"Sirius, she is amazing, and pretty, and a bit feisty. She's on her own so I offered to look after her. She needs me to look after her."
"Oh sure she does." Sirius rolled his eyes, "Now you leave me to take care of our friends." He grumbled, but James could tell he was quite pleased about this development.
"When do we ever do anything other than get them drunk and send them on their way?" James found a rucksack, and dumped his things inside before slapping Sirius on the back as he walked past him. "I knew you'd understand mate." He wasn't really listening, but he still heard Sirius shout after him.
"I told you that costume would get you laid!"
Shaking his head at the absurdity of his best mate, James picked up his pace to go get soup for his new neighbor.
There had been more than a few odd looks and sideways glances as James traveled the short distance to the Chinese takeaway, where he now sat waiting for his order, bouncing his leg impatiently. Because he was in there so often, none of the staff reacted much past a shake of the head. The girl who took his order only giggled and asked him who he was supposed to be.
He really needed to think of something good for Sirius next time.
Lily's flat was dark and quiet when he got back. It was only when he located the switch for her kitchen light that he noticed she hadn't even unpacked any cutlery. Deciding instead she might be better sipping it from the cup, he removed the lid and carefully maneuvered around the maze of boxes. The soup had been almost too hot to carry when he had payed for it, but now he was pretty sure it would be safe enough to drink as long as she was careful.
Light spilled in from behind him, shining on the bed and Lily's soundly sleeping form as he pushed open the door. One of the sheets had tangled around her legs, the other was pushed to the floor. Long red spirals had loosened themselves from her bun and were now fanned out across the pillow above her head, her arms were spread wide, and she was still lying face down on the mattress. He tried not to notice how her top had ridden up, exposing the dimples at the small of her back. How long and slender her legs were, and how her skin glowed in the dim light.
He gulped, slowly approaching her sleeping form, and reached out a hand to gently rub a freckled shoulder.
"Lily, I've got your soup."
Eyes flying open, James saw a flicker of confusion in her emerald eyes before being met with an ear piercing shriek. "What the hell!"
She had swift reflexes. Something he only got to think momentarily before she managed to smack the soup from his hand, spilling it across his bare chest.
"Holy fudge, that's hot," he yelled, frantically grabbing the edge of the sheet to wipe the scalding liquid from his body. He bit his lip, stamping his foot as he tried not to cry out in pain, and rushed to the kitchen sink, still holding the sheet.
As he dabbed at his chest with the now cold wet sheet he heard the unmistakable thud of Lily falling out of bed. With a lot more trepidation than he had shown the first time, he walked back into the room.
She was sprawled on the floor, thankfully on the other side from the spilled soup. Lily's skin was flushed scarlet, and he wasn't sure if she was properly awake.
"Get away from me, creeper," she grumbled. He tried his best to avoid her swinging arms as he scooped her up and put her back into bed, she still managed to land a sharp punch to his jaw.
"I'm only trying to help you, you lunatic." He muttered rubbing his jawline. "First you cause me to get scaled and now I'm certain you've left a bruise."
He spotted a temperature reader, one of those fancy ones you just had to place on the skin, which was a relief. He wasn't sure how brave he was feeling. She was like wrestling with a giant squid, all arms and legs everywhere, he thought. Trying to stick a thermometer in her mouth would likely result in more violence.
When he saw the temp on the readout he checked it three more times just to be sure.
Then grabbed his phone to call for help.
"It was smart of you to call me. She'll be alright, but she needed to be seen."
"Thanks Remus, I didn't know what else to do, she wasn't making any sense and her temp was through the roof." He led Remus through the maze of piled up boxes, running his hands over his head. "Thanks for coming over so quickly,"
James had been a bit peeved when Remus couldn't swap his ER shift for the party, but now he couldn't be more grateful. An impossibly drunk, probably passed out Remus would have been no help to him in this moment. James had been so relieved when his friend had picked up on the second ring, nearly squeezed the life out of him when he showed up at Lily's door thirty minutes later. And nearly - very nearly - kissed his scrubs when he saw them. Honestly, it was like watching Superman arrive, the moment Remus Lupin walked through the door in his dark blue scrubs, clutching his doctor's bag.
He wasn't sure what this girl had done to him, but he thought, perhaps, he was coming down with a fever as well.
Because the the thought of the slim and frail looking Remus Lupin as Superman, was honestly ludicrous.
Though he does have a very Clark Kent feel to him, thought James.
"Her fever is pretty high, but it's gone down a bit since I've been here," said Remus, checking the vitals on Lily's wrist. They had managed to settle her more comfortably onto the bed, placing a cool cloth over the top of her head, and thankfully she had peacefully passed out enough for Remus to perform his checks. "It's just trying to fight off whatever virus she's gotten. Though, if she still has it when she wakes up, I would contact her doctor."
James frowned, feeling uncertain "I don't even know if she has a doctor yet. Look around mate, her place isn't exactly homely." They walked out into the living room so as not to disturb the sleeping patient. James left her door open the tiniest crack in case she decided to take a tumble out of bed again.
"I suppose you're right, but at least a trip to the ER if nothing else. Hopefully it will pass by morning though."
"Yeah, I'll do that. I'm gonna stay and make sure she's okay." He looked over to the door of Lily's bedroom. "Lucky she stumbled out to complain about the noise."
Remus shook his head, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Lucky indeed, isn't it?"
James frowned slightly at his friend, suddenly feeling defensive. "What d'you mean by that?"
"Oh nothing," sighed Remus, dramatically. "Just that you've got that look in your eyes again. You know, the one you used to have when you played football. I always figured when you fell in love it would be about the same. Though it's a bit more pathetic looking, honestly."
James harrumphed. "What's wrong with helping a person out? She needed help, I'm helping! It's the neighborly thing to do. I'm not in love Remus, I've only just met the girl!"
"And I'm not an hour late for bed," said Remus, checking his watch. "Listen, there's nothing wrong with helping her out. Obviously, she's rather alone or else she'd have help here. And maybe you're not in love just yet, but I see that stupid look in your eyes. You're just a jump away from it. At least look before you fall."
James looked at his friend, noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the shadow of stubble on his normally cleanly shaved jaw. This superhero was dead on his feet, and was only saying these things as a friend. A friend who sometimes knew him better than he knew himself. So instead of arguing with him more James just nodded.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, it's just..." He trailed off with a sigh, and ruffled his hair. "At first she just needed help back to her flat, which is what anyone would do right?"
"I suppose so," said Remus, rubbing his brow. "But you're not just anyone, are you?"
"Then," huffed James, ignoring his friend, "she asked for soup, her flat is still in boxes, and its clear to me she has nobody else to look after her, so of course I go and get her soup…"
"Of course."
"When I come back, she doesn't get to drink it because she knocks it away burning me, and her temperature is skyrocketing, I mean, I'm no doctor, but even I knew how dangerous that could have been. You think I've done so much for this stranger, but I don't think I could have done anything less. This girl, she's under my skin and I don't know what to do. I just met her. I think I might be falling for her and it's flipping terrifying." It was at this point that Remus had enough and pulled James up into a hug.
The silence that followed was either from the fact that James had said the words aloud, allowing them to linger slightly inside his own mind, or the fact that Remus had moved to embrace him. Something that Remus often never did.
"Hey now, don't worry about it, mate," said Remus softly, clapping him on the back. "Head first is really more your style."
"Can you do something for me before you go?" James asked while still holding his friend tightly.
"Sure, name it."
"Can you go get me some clothes from my place?"
It was as though she had stepped out of a furnace, her body retaining the heat, but cooling slightly as she gulped her first few conscious breaths of air that didn't tickle her throat or shake her body.
She was sticky, unpleasantly so, and her clothes clung to her as she shifted off her numb shoulder.
She must have been knocked out cold, she thought, to have completely allowed her arm to fall asleep from underneath her.
She needed a shower. She needed to brush her teeth. She needed...to get this damn moist cloth off her forehead so she could see.
It was covering her eyes, but sore as they were, the fading coolness did nothing to help.
It's likely more soaked from sweat now than water, she thought. I don't even remember getting this for myself.
She raised up slightly on her elbows, peeling back the soaked cloth, but the throbbing of her head sent her crashing back down.
"Fuck," she grumbled but it came off as a whine. "Fuck me."
"Hey, look who's awake."
"Petunia," she called out childishly, her voice sounding scratchy. There was no way it could be her sister, she scolded herself. Petunia wouldn't care enough to come look after her. Not that she had even called Petunia. Plus, even though the voice sounded a bit far away, she could tell that it was far too masculine to be Petunia. Her eyes seemed to take ages to adjust against the darkness, the moonlight spilling in from her uncovered window. When her eyes caught up with time, she discovered that it definitely wasn't Petunia or a woman at all. But rather some stupidly fit bloke in a pair of joggers and a fitting tee. "Oh, you're definitely not Petunia, are you?"
"No," he smiled gently. "I'm James, one of your new neighbors, we've met briefly but you were rather unwell at the time so you might not remember. You might want to take it easy sitting up, I can help if you're okay with that." He rubbed his chin absently.
"You know," she said, offering her arm to him and trying not to grunt like a pig as he assisted her into a sitting position, "I feel like I should be a bit more concerned with the fact that there's some random bloke in my flat, but you're awfully fit so I think I'll let it slide this one time."
"Well thank you, you're not so bad yourself, Evans. Even with the half dead look, but it is Halloween after all, so I'll let you off." He fluffed a few pillows and helped her settle into them. "And for the record, this random bloke didn't want you dying on him and having to explain to your relatives why I left you alone, so that's why I'm still here."
"Hmm," she hummed. She felt like she was floating, as though there would never be the possibility of solid ground underneath her again. "I'm dreaming, right? I certainly must be. I'm Wendy Darling and you're Peter, here to teach me how to fly. Did you read that book? When you were a child?"
"Yeah, mum read it to me when I was small. It was one of her favourites. I haven't thought about it in forever." He paused. "I'd fly with you to neverland anytime, Evans, but unfortunately I'm out of fairy dust."
"Tuney and I used to ask mum to read it over and over when we were kids. I still have it," she said, pointing to her bookshelf where he reached down to grab the book, "right there. It's got our names in it and everything." He settled himself on the bed beside her and she leaned against him without thinking.
"Petunia, that's your sister?" Lily nodded, not trusting herself to say the words aloud. Like she would somehow find fault in them if they were spoken into existence. "You're lucky to have a sister. I was an only child until Sirius came to live with us. It was like finding a long lost brother."
"Petunia and I don't talk as much anymore. Or at all, really."
"Oh, that's too bad." He looked over the book tracing the lettering on the front with his fingers. "Does she live far from here? Is it where you moved from?"
Lily shook her head gently, the simple act of it making her feel even more light headed. "No, she lives in Cokeworth. I was living on my own before this. Quite like I am now."
"I've never lived on my own. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like. We moved out together, me and Sirius." He smiled sadly. "I'm not sure he would do so well on his own, but he has Remus now, so I'm a bit of a spare part at times."
"It's rather lonely, living on your own. You're not missing out on much, trust me." She had gone slack against him at some point. He was steady and solid. Never budging or giving into her weight. There was something comforting about it. "I've never really been a spare part or even really a part of anything to feel spare. You're lucky to even have that."
The room grew silent, the only sound being the wind ruffling the trees from outside her window. Lily wondered - vaguely and somewhere in her hazy mind - if, perhaps, this mysterious man had flown in through her window. If he was here to take her on some sort of adventure. Perhaps on a boat battling pirates and crocodiles. Like Peter Pan.
But he was much too grown up for such things.
He cleared his throat after several passing moments, and then - without knowing the significance of the words - spoke the very same thing her mother had done when she was a child. Restless and wonderful. "Would it help you to rest if I read to you?"
"I'd like that," she said.
He cleared his throat, his voice carrying throughout the room when he spoke aloud words she hadn't heard properly from another person in quite some time. "All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this…"
And Lily drifted.
First her eyes.
And then her consciousness.
And his voice lingered, there, in the space between reality and a dream.
James lost himself for a while in Neverland. It reminded him of days sitting in his family home, when winter winds had rattled the windowpanes and he had felt warm and snug in his bed while his mother read to him.
He wasn't sure when Lily had drifted back to sleep, her body had been so still for quite a while, her breathing deep and even, but it felt good to sit and read. To feel useful in a way.
As gently as he could he lifted her head from his shoulder and laid it on the pillow. He felt weary. The alcohol mixed with blind panic had kept him going but now he knew he needed rest himself or he would be in no state to look after anyone, and he really wanted to be there for Lily.
He could feel it already, a deep and strong feeling of protectiveness for her. He wanted to make her happy, to see her smile. He imagined her smile to be something special but he had yet to witness it. It broke his heart to see someone so completely alone. It really wasn't fair..
He tried to organize his thoughts. How could he be so infatuated already? His mind recalled his conversation with Remus, and he wondered if he was really diving head first without looking. It was as if he could feel it in his bones, that he was ready to take the hit of falling from such a height. It felt right. He had never clicked so well with a girl before. Of all the situations two people could possibly meet, he would never have chosen this.
He just had that sinking feeling as he silently left her flat to wash, and perhaps get a few hours rest, that she probably wouldn't remember any of this at all.
His flat was silent when he walked in, the air thick with the strong smell of stale alcohol, and the floor was littered with the usual debris that parties always seemed to leave. At least there were no extra bodies passed out this time as was usually the norm for one of their gatherings. He scratched at the stubble on his jaw as he looked at the state of the place. He ignored his immediate urge to tidy.
He was far too tired and didn't have the energy to care about it now. He lifted his tee off on his way to the bathroom, spotting a body sprawled on the couch he tossed his shirt at the figure.
"What?" Sirius groaned as the fabric hit him squarely on the head, "piss off I'm dying over here."
"So I take it you didn't miss me all that much then?" he called out as he went to the bathroom, turning the shower on and letting it run for a bit. His best friend staggered into the door frame, his eyes bloodshot, his skin a delicate tinge of green that had entirely nothing to do with the Halloween makeup. There was a strong smell of booze radiating from him, and James wondered weather to let him use the bathroom first. Despite all this though, the most infuriating thing was that somehow his long dark hair still looked perfect.
James took this all in and tried not to laugh at his brother. There was another plus point about missing the party, he had also missed the hangover.
"When Remus told me you were playing Florence Nightingale to the new girl down the hall, I didn't expect you would stay there the whole fucking night," Sirius slurred, his eyes barely opening.
"She had a fever, I couldn't leave. I wasn't sure if Remus was going to stay over, he looked pretty tired." Sirius put up his hand to him, as if the barrage of information was too much for him to process in his delicate state.
"Either he was too sober, or I was much too drunk for him to stay. I think he might be annoyed at me, but what else is new?" he added with a shrug not looking overly concerned. "Be sure to introduce me to this new girl of yours. I want to make sure she is good enough.
"Oh, you will be seeing a lot of her from now on. She doesn't have anyone, so now she has us. And you will be friendly and charming."
"Okay, fine, just as long as you stop shouting at me," grumbled Sirius, giving him a mock salute. "I'm going to bed for the next week."
James watched him slide himself along the wall and into his room and chuckled. He was annoying sometimes, and often difficult to live with but, he was his brother and he wouldn't have him any other way.
Dreams are a tricky thing.
Fever dreams are even worse.
And Lily was certain when she was woken by the sun spilling into her room the next morning that she must have been having some sort of odd fever dream.
How else could she explain the odd sometimes Spartan, sometimes Peter Pan dressed man that always had the same face.
She sat up gingerly - her head no longer throbbing, her body no longer aflame - and cringed at the sticky layer of sweat her fever had left on her.
She could do with a bath.
And my teeth need a good scrubbing, she thought as she ran her tongue along them.
Her body ached as her bare feet carried her across the cold floorboards, and into the bathroom where she stopped dead if the sight of herself in the mirror.
She looked positively wrecked. Her hair was in a tangled heap on the top of her head, her skin was practically glistening, and her nose had lost its red tint, giving way to dry, peeling skin.
She practically tore her clothes off, jumping in the shower with such speed she was surprised she didn't slip and fall.
"Bloody hell," she cursed to herself, squealing a bit as the water took a good minute to warm up.
She would feel better and look better after a shower, she told herself while scrubbing at her body mercilessly.
Or as good as post-cold Lily can get, she thought.
But when she stepped out of her shower, nearly slipping from the lack of bath mat, she had to admit that the shower had given her some of her color back as she wiped at the foggy mirror.
"Even if that color is from a scorching hot shower," she said to her own pink faced reflection.
She sighed, watching her reflection do the same.
Today was Sunday. She had planned on unpacking and getting her life in order before the work week, but she had lost all that time. Instead, she would be spending the day washing bed sheets and lesson planning.
Feeling sorry for herself, she dressed in a pair of leggings and an over sized tee, putting her hair back into a messy bun, and yanked the sheets of her bed with such force that her body protested.
She balled them together, shoving them into a laundry basket, and walked into her living room.
Where she stopped dead in her tracks.
"What in the world," she gasped, whirling around.
Her possessions had been unpacked.
Her dishes were neatly placed and stacked in a cabinet above her now plugged in microwave.
Her matching penguin salt and pepper shakers with red knitted scarves were filled and placed side by side - nearly holding hands - on the stove top.
And her mother's tablecloth, the one with the red bird print that she had detested as a child, had been smoothed and draped across her table.
Someone had been in her flat.
Her thoughts immediately flew to the Spartan-turned-Peter-Pan from her dreams before she scolded herself.
It was a childish dream, she heard a voice that sounded oddly like Tuney tell her. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Nothing more," she repeated aloud shaking her head. "Nothing less."
She would go to the laundry room, and after dropping her sheets off, she would then go to the front office to see if they had let anyone in while she had been in her sick state.
It was a solid plan, but it was derailed as soon as she opened the door to her flat and found a messy haired man standing on the other side, his hand in mid-knock.
"Oh my god," she shrieked, dropping her laundry basket and nearly stumbling.
"Not quite the reaction I was going for but, hi, glad to see you're looking better," he said, shrugging.
"Who the hell are you?"
Lily knew she was being a bit blunt and more than a bit rude, but honestly, who was this bloke and where did he get off insulting her looks before he properly knew her?
"You mean to tell me, Miss Evans, that after all we went through last night, you don't remember me?" Lily thought she saw the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips, but then he took in her knitted brow and it quickly faded as he ruffled his hair, looking downwards at the floor rather than at her.
"After everything - what - oh," she gasped, a memory - fragmented and foggy - of a bare chest and a ridiculous velvet cape floated barely in her realm of recognition. "Oh my god. The Spartan! You're - I mean - you're the Spartan!"
He looked heavenwards shaking his head. "Thanks a bunch Sirius," he muttered, colour blooming on his cheeks. "Yeah, that was me, but trust me, I'm not in the habit of exposing myself so much. My flat mate and I still think we're kids sometimes." He fished in his pocket. "I was coming over to return this." He said presenting a small golden key.
Lily held her hand out as he dropped the key into her palm, staring down at it as though she didn't recognize it. A million questions ran through her head, but her post-cold mind was too slow to process them properly. "You were the one who unpacked all my boxes, and set my flat up," she said instead, looking him in the eye. It was hard not to. "You - what's your name again?"
"Eh, James. James Potter." He shuffled his feet, putting his hands in his pockets. "You were so sick, your temp went so high that I had to call my friend Remus, he's a doctor, you see. You really had me worried for a while, and he wanted me to keep an eye on you. I unpacked your stuff to pass the time. I'm sorry if it was an intrusion, but I thought it would be nice to feel moved in, and I sorta like things tidy. It kept me from falling asleep too. The only thing more awkward than a stranger unpacking your things, is a stranger falling asleep on your couch. "
"No, no. I mean - I was sort of having trouble unpacking in the first place. I'm not lazy or anything...it's just -it's hard doing it on your own. And, honestly, you did a really good job. Like bloody fantastic. You must have an eye for how to lay out a room or something." She was rambling. God, she was making a fool of herself in front of her fit neighbor. Though he didn't seem to mind, the way he - James - was grinning at her. Even when it was at her own expense, his grin seemed incredibly charming. Lily laughed nervously, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I'm Lily, by the way," she said, extending her hand. "Though...you probably already knew that."
"It's nice to properly meet you," he replied taking her hand sliding his thumb across the knuckles gently. "I'm pleased you liked what I did."
Lily was certain that her pale skin and been lit on fire. As though all the color that her terrible, horrible cold had robbed her of had been revived by his touch.
Their hands stayed clasped together for nearly twenty seconds, - Lily counted - his thumb lingering on the knuckle of her ring finger the whole time. And Lily wondered how an eternity could possibly fit into twenty seconds.
When she was certain she was boarding on potential creeper status, she released his hand, her own flexing at the loss of contact as it dropped lamely to her side. She sighed, wrinkling her nose at him as she did so. "I was just about to go do some laundry," she said, tucking a stray hair that had managed to loosen itself from her bun behind her ear. "Would you like to come with me? I'm mean - I'm not entirely sure I know the way. This building is a lot bigger than the last one I lived in."
"Okay, sure," he answered enthusiastically, "I need to go check on my own anyway." He picked up her basket that was still laying on the floor. "There's always so much to catch up on after our parties, you'll have to come next time." He started to walk down the corridor, after taking a few more steps he turned. "Coming, Evans?" He added with a grin.
"Oh," she blushed, realizing she had been staring at the way his mouth moved when he talked rather than actually following him. She jogged to catch up with him, tugging at the hem of her shirt from pure nerves. "I haven't been to a Halloween party in ages. Normally I just decorate my flat, but it ends up looking like one of my primary students did it."
They paused at the elevator, Lily waiting for him to press the button for fear of going into a catatonic state if their fingers accidentally touched.
"So, you're a teacher then?" She nodded. "Me too, but I can't really call my students kids since they're all old enough to drink."
"Yeah, I teach primary one. So they're still practically just babies. I actually moved here for this job," she said as the elevator door opened and they stepped inside. "I've been so busy trying to catch up that I haven't had time to talk to someone my own age."
"Moving is so stressful, I get it. It's a lot to process, especially if you don't know the city. I don't know how you can put up with a class full of small children, they would walk all over me I swear. Then again trying to get hungover barely adults to run laps is probably just as challenging in it's own way." He leaned against the wall of the lift as it started its descent, his eyes looking at her intently before he spoke. "I'm always available, you know, if you want someone to talk to."
"Is it weird," started Lily before pausing and drawing in a ragged breath to get the rest of the words out. "Is it weird that I feel like I know you? Well, I feel like I must after last night. I just can't remember anything. Other than some odd dreams."
"Well, I can only speak for what's going on inside my own head at the moment, but what I'm certain of is that I really want to get to know you better, Evans. Even though we've only spent a short time together. It's been an even shorter time for you since you can't even remember," he snorted a short, soft laugh, his hand twitching as if he was going to move it, but it kept a firm hold on the basket. "But to answer your question, no, it doesn't feel weird at all. Not to me at least." His eyes never left hers as he spoke, as if he was waiting for her to react somehow, "Somehow when I'm talking to you everything just feels more right."
The lift slowed to a stop, gosling Lily just a bit as the doors opened while she stared at him - her lips slightly parted - taking in his words.
They stood there, looking at one another for so long that the door closed again, the ding of the lift causing her to exhale a breath she didn't remember fully forming.
"I'd like to get to know you a bit better too. As more than just the strange Spartan in my dreams," she said, looking him in the eye. "Perhaps, over dinner one night at my flat? I mean, it's the least I can do to say thank you."
A wide grin spread across his face, the one from her dreams and the one that would be in her conscious mind from now on.
"I'd like that," he said, nodding. "Alright Evans, you've got yourself a deal. Now, I know you're one for stories. Have you ever heard the one about the emerald eyed princess with the mean right hook who spilled boiling hot soup on the handsome Prince Charming?"