Do you think Heaven has Pigeons? || James Bond ||
A/n: Hahah here's that angst idea, I can admit I teared up for this.
Little angst AU for James cause I've been thinking of some angsty things
Warnings: Death, angst, blood, mention of an after life.
James Bond had planned every detail.
The restaurant overlooked the Thames, the city lights scattering across the dark water like fallen stars. It wasn’t his style, not really. James had always preferred practicality over sentimentality, efficiency over grand gestures. Yet tonight there was a velvet box hidden inside his jacket pocket, and for the first time in years, he found himself nervous.
Not because of a mission.
You were sitting across from him, laughing about something completely ridiculous involving a pigeon that had stolen a tourist’s sandwich earlier that afternoon. Your hands moved animatedly as you talked, your eyes bright with amusement while James watched you the way a starving man looked at a feast.
The ring felt impossibly heavy in his pocket.
He was waiting for dessert.Waiting for the perfect moment.Waiting for forever to finally begin.
Then the gunshot rang out.
For a fraction of a second, James didn’t understand what had happened.
The sound echoed across the crowded street.
And suddenly you were staring at him with wide eyes.
Confused....Almost surprised.
The white blouse beneath your coat bloomed red.
The word left him before he realized he’d spoken.
Your chair crashed backward as your body slumped.
James was already moving.Already catching you before you hit the ground.Already screaming your name.The world dissolved into chaos around him.
Not when your blood was soaking through his hands.
Not when your breathing was growing weaker.
“Stay with me,” he begged.
James Bond never begged.Yet he found himself doing it anyway.
His hands pressed desperately against the wound.
His heart hammered so violently he thought it might burst.
“Look at me. Look at me, darling.”
The same smile that had ruined him from the very beginning.
His throat closed. “Don’t.”
A broken laugh escaped him.The sound bordered on hysteria. “How exactly am I supposed to do that?”
For a moment he saw the woman he’d fallen in love with again. The woman who could find something ridiculous in absolutely any situation.
Then you asked the strangest question imaginable.
“Do you think pigeons go to heaven, James?”
Merciless, sliding down his cheeks as a broken sob escaped his lips. Because of course that would be your final question.
Not about fear nor death.
His forehead pressed against yours. “I don’t know.”
“I hope they do.” Your smile widened slightly.
And then...Nothing.Nothing at all.
The world ended in James Bond’s arms.
The years that followed were ugly.
James took missions nobody else wanted.
The dangerous ones.The impossible ones.The suicidal ones.
M would glare at him across briefing tables.Q would argue.Moneypenny would worry but none of it mattered.
Because every morning he woke up without you.And every night he went to sleep without you.
What was a bullet compared to that?
What was death compared to loneliness?
The drinking started slowly.
One glass became two, then two became entire bottles.
Not because he enjoyed it.
Because when he drank enough, he dreamed.
And in those dreams, you were still there.
Asking impossible questions.
He knew it wasn’t healthy, he knew it wasn’t real.
But it was all he had left.
The world kept turning and James....James simply endured it.
The final mission was supposed to be routine.
At least, that’s what they’d told him.But routine never existed in his line of work.
The gunfire erupted from three directions.
The explosion knocked him backward.Something hot tore through his side.Then another bullet found his chest.
The radio crackled frantically.
Someone was running toward him.
But James barely heard any of it.Because suddenly the pain was gone.
And standing several feet away was you.
Exactly as he remembered.
For the first time in years, he smiled without forcing it.Without pretending.Without the pain.
The rescue team reached him.Hands grabbed his shoulders.Someone yelled for a medic.
Because you were holding out your hand.
You grinned.The same grin that had once made him fall hopelessly in love.
“Did you know Heaven has pigeons?”
A laugh escaped him.Warm,Genuine.The first real laugh he’d had since losing you.
You slipped your hand into his, ring glinting on your finger. Your hand fit perfectly against his, just like they always had.
Excitement sparkled in your eyes. The kind only you could have while discussing something so utterly absurd.
“I can’t wait for you to meet them.”
The battlefield vanished completely to him, the shouting disappeared, the pain vannished.
None of it mattered, only you.
And for the first time since that terrible night beside the Thames, James Bond wasn’t sad anymore.
Your voice chattering happily beside him as together, you both turned and walked toward the light.
And somewhere in the distance, he could have sworn he heard the flutter of hundreds of wings.
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