James tugged on his boots and grabbed his helmet from the counter, the reflective yellow stripes catching the soft glow of the kitchen light. Y/N leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed as she watched him. The kids had finally gone to bed—after three rounds of "just one more story" and promises that monsters couldn’t get past their dad’s fireproof gear. It was a quiet moment, the kind they didn’t get often, and James wanted to soak it in.
“You sure you’ll be okay tonight?” he asked, his voice warm and full of concern. He adjusted the strap on his gear as he walked toward her.
Y/N rolled her eyes playfully but stepped closer, resting her hands on his chest. “I’ll be fine. The hard part’s done—they’re all asleep. Go save lives or whatever heroic thing you do.”
James grinned, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her into him. “Whatever heroic thing I do, huh? That’s how you talk about the father of your children?”
Y/N laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Just don’t let it go to your head, Potter. You’re already impossible when it comes to bragging rights.”
“Oh, I’ll have you know I’m entirely humble.” He kissed her forehead, lingering for a moment. “You’re the one who makes it all possible, Y/N. I don’t say it enough, but you’re amazing.”
“Don’t get all sentimental on me now,” she teased, though her voice was soft and touched with emotion. “You’ll make me cry, and the kids are finally asleep. They’ll think something’s wrong.”
James chuckled, then leaned down to kiss her—a deep, tender kiss that held all the words he didn’t say out loud often enough. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N gave him a small smile. “Be careful, okay? And text me if you get a chance. I know you’re busy, but it helps me sleep.”
“I will. Always do,” he promised, grabbing his bag. He hesitated at the door, glancing back at her one more time. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now go,” Y/N said, shooing him playfully. As the door closed behind him, she sighed, already missing him even though it hadn’t been five minutes. She turned off the lights and headed to bed, knowing the morning would come far too quickly.
---
It was well past midnight when the call came in: a residential fire in a downtown apartment complex. James and his team were dispatched immediately, sirens wailing as the fire engine sped through the quiet streets. Adrenaline coursed through him as he braced for the chaos ahead. Fires in apartment buildings were always the worst—so many people, so many lives to save.
When they arrived, flames were already licking up the sides of the building, smoke pouring out of shattered windows. James jumped into action, leading his team through the plan to evacuate residents and contain the blaze. It was his job, and he was good at it.
But then he saw the building. His stomach dropped as he recognized it. It was his building. His home.
“No—no, no, no,” he muttered under his breath, abandoning all protocol as he sprinted toward the entrance. He barely registered his captain shouting after him.
James tore through the smoke-filled hallways, coughing as he called out for Y/N and the kids. “Y/N! Lily! Harry! Where are you?!”
He reached their apartment door, which was already engulfed in flames. Panic overtook him as he tried to force his way inside. His team caught up, pulling him back before he could injure himself further.
“James, we have to go!” one of his teammates yelled.
“No!” he shouted, struggling against their grip. “My family’s in there!”
They had to physically drag him out of the building as it became clear there was no way to save anyone trapped inside. James collapsed on the sidewalk, watching helplessly as the fire consumed everything he loved.
The aftermath was a blur—a mix of tears, grief, and disbelief. James sat alone in the station later that night, his helmet discarded beside him. The weight of what he’d lost pressed down on him, suffocating in a way the smoke never had.
All he could think about was Y/N’s smile as she’d kissed him goodbye, the sound of their kids laughing as they played before bed. He replayed every moment, every word, wishing he could go back, wishing he could have done something—anything—to save them.
In the silence of the station, James finally broke, his sobs echoing through the empty room. The hero, the man who saved others, couldn’t save his own family. And it was a pain he would carry for the rest of his life.
