We Were Bound | james potter

e i g h t

chapter 8

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unseeing
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tw: suicide attempt & suicidal thoughts

James inhaled a big breath of air, he was frozen, stuck in the moment when the door flung open. Stuck in the moment he saw her, weakly sitting against the side of the bathtub. Stuck in the moment he saw the light slowly fade from her eyes.

And that moment seemed to drag on, for hours, James wasn't sure just how long he had stood there as Remus frantically rushed to her side. He wasn't sure how long he watched the blood around her continue to pool and grow in size.

James was fairly sure this was a dream, because Faeryn can't be dying. That's simply not possible.

He was sure it was just a terrible nightmare when he watched himself run the help Remus, he felt so relieved when he was viewing the scene from the corner of the room. Because that meant it wasn't real, that it wasn't happening.

This was not happening.

He watched from the top corner of the room as Remus pulled up her skirt, watched as he wrapped his shirt around her waist to clot the blood seeping from her hips.

He watched himself rip up his shirt and tie it around her wrists, he watched as the redness started to seep into the cream-colored shirt around her forearms. A beautiful contrast of color, blending together to form a unflattering brown muddy color.  Though he supposes any color of blood was unflattering if you weren't supposed to be seeing it, if it was supposed to be inside her.

James did not like this dream one bit, it felt too real.

Even though he wasn't seeing from his eyes, he was almost certain he could smell the metally tang of blood.

This dream was too realistic, he wanted to wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

His eyes snapped open, except he did not awake in the safety and warmth of his bed. He awoke on the floor next to Faeryn.

Oh god.

It wasn't a dream.

Suddenly his hand slipped into his pocket, and he slipped out the intricately engraved mirror he always had with him.

"Sirius!" he yelled into the mirror, looking at his reflection, forehead covered with blood, glasses askew. He watched as his reflection faded into the worried face of Sirius Black.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, highly concerned at the sight of red dripping on his best mate's forehead.

"Sirius go get Madam Pomfrey, tell her to come to the Gryffindor girls bathroom, it's an emergency," he said frantically, setting the mirror face-up on the counter so he could still talk to Sirius.

"On my way right now. What the hell happened?" he asked, voice shaky with fear.

"Just hurr—" James was cut off.

"No— jus' let me go, jus' stop." Faeryn slurred, attempting to shove them off of her.

"Fae?" asked Sirius through the mirror.

"Fae, it's James and Remus, you're gonna be fine, okay?" James said, although he didn't sound very reassuring. In fact, he sounded like he was straight-up lying, which in a way he was. He had no idea if she was going to be fine.

James had hoped Remus would know some healing spells, he did tear himself up every month after all. But to no avail, he said he was always too afraid to learn.