You watch as your father’s murderer incinerates on a pyre, and you wonder to yourself why it feels as though you are the dead one.
You watch until he is nothing but ashes and smoke, and there is no gratification to be reaped. You don’t feel better – you don’t actually feel anything.
It’s a hollow victory.
/ / /
“Is this what it always feels like?” The question slips out in the dead of night before you can stop it, your voice low and ashamed, like an admission of guilt. But at first, all you hear is the slow, steady sound of his breathing, and a hefty sigh of relief escapes your lips. You’re mortified to be unraveling like this, even around him. It’s best that he’s probably asleep; he shouldn’t have to see you this way.
“I won’t lie to you. What you’re feeling, that guilt eating away at you – it won’t go away.” he finally says, turning to look at you, to brush some stray hairs out of your eyes. “Not until you deal with the grief you’ve been trying to smother.”
He murdered Dad, and he murdered countless more, you remind yourself. “I don’t feel any guilt.” you insist with as much conviction as you can muster. He pleaded with you to spare him, to show you compassion, you remember, his screams echoing in the chambers of your mind. You clench your eyes shut. “I – I don’t regret killing him. But I regret killing myself in the process.”
“ I HEARD ABOUT LOVE, BUT I'M NOT READY. I HEARD ABOUT TRUST AND WHAT YOU SAID, I BELIEVE. SO, WHAT ABOUT US? IT'S ALREADY TOO MUCH AND IT'S ONLY JUST FOUND. THERE'S NO MASKING LOVE WHEN YOU'RE POURING IT OUT, WHEN YOU CAN'T GET ENOUGH. I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU IN THE DARK. GAVE YOU THE CENTER OF MY HEART. THE ONLY ONE WHO SHINES A LIGHT ON ME. IF YOU'RE LEAVING FOR SOMEWHERE, NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO, I WILL BE WITH YOU. OOH, LIKE A SINKING SHIP OUT THERE, I WILL GET TO YOU, BEFORE I GO SINKING TOO. I'M RUNNING OUT OF PLACES THAT I CAN HIDE IN. WHY SHOULD WE CARE WHAT THEY SAY? DO YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS? YOU DON'T KNOW MUCH. I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU IN THE DARK. GAVE YOU THE CENTER OF MY HEART. THE ONLY ONE WHO SHINES A LIGHT ON ME. IF YOU'RE LEAVING FOR SOMEWHERE, NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO, I WILL BE WITH YOU. OOH, LIKE A SINKING SHIP OUT THERE, I WILL GET TO YOU, BEFORE I GO SINKING TOO. ”
There is little glory to be reaped in war, but somehow she thought the end would be more than this.
Whenever she pictured her death, she always saw herself burning out like a supernova, engulfing the world in her reckoning. But instead, this is a whimper, not a bang.
She isn’t exploding. She’s fading.
The planet doesn’t stop turning because of her. Outside, the battle still rages on, but the cacophony deadens to a murmur as her surroundings begin to slip away. Her mind’s screaming, crying out for help, but all that manages to escape her lips are weak moans.
It isn’t supposed to be like this. She was meant to die surrounded by family and friends, not pitiful and alone.
No, she resolves, clinging to the Earth around her, refusing to let it dim just yet. I won’t die here all by myself. I can’t.
And as if the world hears, someone notices her, kneels down beside her.
A piercing chill runs down her spine when she realizes it’s another one of the masked. Cloaked in black, he looks too much like an imposing angel of death, here to collect another life for his master. “No.” she murmurs, seething at the thought of dying like this, while she’s too battered for a proper fight. She makes an effort to shift, to reach for her wand, but it’s too agonizing to bear. She’s almost gone.
His dark eyes shine through the snake slits, and it takes her several moments to discern that they’re familiar. He’s never quite looked at her like this before like – like she’s something holy. Like she’s a martyr who he can’t stand to see sacrificed on the pyre.
The cogs slip into place. Suddenly it’s clear to her that Vincent Caine is not here to kill her. No, he’s about to do something even worse – save her.
“Stay back,” she chokes out, trying again to move her body, biting down on her tongue from the pain so hard that she nearly bleeds. She’s so foolishly proud, but she’d rather die than allow him to blur the lines like this – to make her to feel something for him other than blind hatred. But stirring is all she can manage before the vertigo forces her still. “Leave.”
He sucks in a breath through gritted teeth. “I’m not here to hurt you, Lily. I’m trying to help you.”
“I know, Caine…” she murmurs before the world goes black.
/ / /
She wakes up in St. Mungo’s Intensive Care Unit three days later, surrounded by family and friends but far from dead.
/ / /
“Well, you are an incredibly lucky girl, Miss Potter.” the mediwitch says brightly as she hands Lily her hourly dosage of Blood-Replenishing Potion. ”You were sent to us just in the nick of time — any longer and I’m not sure if there would’ve been anything we could’ve done.”
“Incredibly lucky.” she repeats, considering those words for a few seconds before plastering a smile on her face, nodding along. “Sure. You could say that.”
It’s infuriating, having to constantly hold her tongue. Everyone keeps asking her if she remembers who had sent her. No one in the Order of the Phoenix’s ranks could take credit, of course. Every time she answers the same way — she doesn’t know. All that she knows, she swears, is that she was dying — the world slipping from her fingertips, her heartbeat slowing, blood redder than her hair gushing from her body — and now she’s here, at St. Mungo’s, alive and kicking. She isn’t sure why she’s even bothering to protect his identity. She isn’t grateful — no, she’s angry. Angry at herself for needing someone to come and rescue her in the first place, like she’s some damsel in distress. Angry at him for shackling her with a life debt to a Death Eater, a life debt that she can never repay.
But if that’s true, a traitorous voice in her head gnaws, why won’t you give him up?
(She doesn’t dare entertain that thought. She knows that she needs to cling to her hatred, or if she isn’t careful, other emotions will threaten to stir whenever she thinks of him. There’s a strange purity when it comes to blind hatred — it turns everything into simple shades of black and white. There’s no need to question her worldview if she simply digs her heels in and insists that monsters are monsters. She knows exactly what to do with the loathing that she has carried for him for so long. Knows how to feel it, strongly and intensely, with every inch of her being. Knows how to wield it like a weapon, as soldiers fighting in a war should. Knows exactly how to play the role that she has had thrust upon her since the day she was born. She doesn’t know how to handle having other, far more complicated feelings about him, so instead, she simply refuses to altogether. It’s easiest this way for her. Or it was, until he went and ruined it all. She’ll never forgive him for that.)
“Honestly, you must have a guardian angel watching over you.”
Vincent Caine, her guardian angel. Lily tries to stop the barking, hysterical laugh threatening to spill from her throat, coughing up her Blood-Replenishing Potion instead.
“— I’m just — not used to the taste yet —” she lies through her coughs, reaching for some water.
The nurse gives her an encouraging, warm smile. “It’s alright, darling, I’ll go run and grab you another, okay?”
Lily bristles at the use of the pet name — it’s not him, it’s fine, you’re fine, she reminds herself — but manages a thin-lipped smile back. “Thank you.” she says primly. She waits until the nurse leaves to rest back on her pillows, clenching her eyes shut. It’s hell, being trapped here. Death would’ve been kinder.
God, I’m going to fucking murder Caine when I get out of this stupid fucking hospital, she thinks.
But that same traitorous voice in her heads tells her what she already knows, deep down — that she won’t.
/ / /
She has to wait a long two weeks before there’s a chance for her to confront him, and by that point, the frustration has simmered to a white-hot rage. It’s half past midnight, and the Ministry is almost empty — eerily so. A more cautious person would have thought better of it, but she’s always been all heart and nerves. Calculation will never be her forte, but it’s easy enough to corner Caine into an alcove when she has the cloak. With all the force she can muster, she unceremoniously pushes him against the wall and takes off her cloak with a flourish.
“Why did you do it?” she breathes. “I need to know. I need to know why you helped me.”
“What — what the fuck on about now, Potter?” he splutters, wild-eyed, feigning confusion.
It doesn’t fool her.
“Cut the bullshit.” Lily presses her wand at his throat, almost digging it into his jugular. “I know you’re the one who saved me and sent me to St. Mungos. Why?”
Caine inhales a sharp breath, his body tensing. “— They should’ve done a psych evaluation on you before they released you. You’ve clearly lost it.” he snaps, dark eyes boring down at hers. “You know, I’m not exactly intimidated by a girl who can barely reach my neck.” He shoves her away easily, as though she’s as light as a quill to him. Then he starts to walk away.
Lily groans and charges after him, tucking her wand in her coat pocket, knowing the same thing he must have — that she never had any real intention on using it on him. “Look, Caine,” she starts, “Whatever bloody game you’re playing, I won’t play it with you. If you’re just fucking with my head or if you’re expecting me to repay you somehow —”
He spins around to face her, his eyes flashing like fiendfyre. “Don’t worry, I don’t expect anything from you. Not even a thank you.”
She shakes her head. “Bullshit. I don’t accept that. Everyone always wants something from me. You expect me to believe you’re any different? I know you, Caine —”
“And what do you really know about me? Other than what you’ve assumed.”
“I know that you’re a Death Eater.” she replies simply. “That’s all I need to know.”
Heaving a sigh, he hesitates for several moments before responding. “— I wanted you to live.” he admits finally, his voice down to a low whisper, like he’s petrified to be saying this aloud. “That’s all.”
Her eyebrows furrow as she registers Caine’s words, tries to process them. “What — what the fuck that supposed to mean, Caine?” she demands, glaring up at him, searching for signs of insincerity in his face. Of course, there are none, but she refuses to take him at face value anyway. “Why would you want me to live? You hate me.”
“That doesn’t mean I think you deserve to die.” he murmurs. “Not like that. You seemed — you just looked so terrified. Desperate. I’d never seen you like that before.”
She juts out her chin. “I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about. I wasn’t afraid — I’m not a bloody child — I don’t feel fear. I was — I was prepared to die for it. I was ready. Just like everyone else was. Just like you were. I didn’t ask for you to save me.”
“And you think it would’ve been worth it?” he asks, his face incredulous. “Is that really how you imagined dying? Alone like that, choking on your own pride? Don’t you think you think you deserve better than to become a martyr?”
She grits her teeth. “— how do you imagine yourself dying then, Caine?” she counters, avoiding his questions. “I doubt it’s peacefully in your sleep.”
“That’s different. You have a world of people who would care when you’re gone.” Vince points out. “Why are you forgetting that?”
Lily blinks at him for a few moments. She hadn’t been expecting him to say that in retaliation, and it unnerves something in her. “— what do you mean?” she asks, chewing on her lip as she studies him carefully, her mind attempting to piece together the meaning behind his words. “Wait — do you honestly think no one out there would care if you died?” For some reason, the notion of a world who would not mourn him — who would not remember him — feels uncomfortable. Wrong.
He falls silent at her question, and they linger there for a few moments, watching each other. She takes a second to try to picture a world without him. She can’t seem to fathom it. As infuriating as he is, Caine’s become a constant in her life at this point. What would happen if he simply vanished one day? It had been something she had wished for before — many times before — and yet it feels impossible to her now. She’s sure that if it ever happens, her world would be thrown-off kilter, turned on its axis. When did she start relying on Vince as a presence? When did she begin looking for him near?
Is this his own way of admitting that he had started to do the same? Somewhere along the way, they both slipped up and forgotten the cardinal rule to war — being a soldier requires shutting down their compassion.
She’d first built walls around her heart when she was a young teenager, encasing it within a fortress. But no matter how many times she tried to lock away her heart, it always seemed to break free again in the end.
“— that isn’t true. People would remember you, Vince.” The words escape her lips before she can think better of it. “People would care.” she whispers, her eyes burning.
It isn’t an I would care but it was close. Dangerously, foolishly close. She isn’t used to being this vulnerable, this raw, especially not around him. Her heart is in her throat, and there’s a voice in her head urges her to run, before this small spark becomes a raging forest fire. The last time she’d yielded to someone like this, she’d given too much of herself away.
Vince inches towards her. “Lily —” he starts, tucking a strand of bright red hair behind her ear.
That voice in her head starts screaming when he utters her name again, the same way he did that night he rescued her. This is too close, too treacherous. She has to stop herself from fluttering her eyes closed. “Vince — don’t — I — ” Lily murmurs, shaking her head and stepping back, her skin prickling with tiny goosebumps. Vince’s hands drop to his sides, and she lets out a sharp breath.
“Thank you for saving my life, Vince — Caine.” She catches herself finally. “I won’t forget it.” she whispers, repeating his surname again as a reminder, more to her than to him. There shouldn’t be any familiarity between them. “But please just — don’t do it again.” She finally breaks Vince’s gaze and brushes past him, forcing herself not to turn her head and look back as she walks away.
