She was too afraid to approach him when he looked like that. Part of her longed to walk up to him, smooth her hands over his shoulders and kiss the frown away like it was about an upcoming exam or quidditch match. But it wasn't. She found herself sucking in her breathe in shock remembering how miniscule her old problems were when she was younger.

Younger, did that mean she was old? She'd barely been out of school for a year and she felt much older.

Her brow knit in frustration as she stared out into the yard, where her husband sat out on a bench under a tree, which was a lovely spot during the day, but now at dusk, the sight of his unmoving back while he stared out into space was unnerving. She was scared too. But she didn't know how to go out and comfort him.

She sighed as she stood in doorway leading from the kitchen to the yard. Was this exhaustion what growing up felt like? She always thought of herself as a young girl, a teenager, a student, but never yet an adult. She was tired and it felt like her limbs hung sagging from their sockets and her face felt lined like a leather couch, even yesterday she caught herself with her arms crossed, back ramrod straight as her mother did when she was cross. James was at work so she had locked herself in her room, caking on make-up and dancing very badly to muggle music to try to revive some teenage girl attitudes. When he returned she pounced on him, and the bedroom door stayed firmly locked for hours. He was surprised by the electric blue eyeliner but was smart enough not to question. He was too busy thinking of other things anyway.

That was more like how their life used to be. The battle with Voldemort was growing more and more grim and painful and sickening, friends were tortured or missing or murdered. She wanted to fight, but she wasn't sure how to break it to James. She had already recruited herself. He was too distracted and exhausted to be told casually or even formally. There was easy way to tell him. He had far too much to think about.

Which is why after dinner he excused himself and went outside, and she didn't follow. She was unsure if she was welcome. But she wished she could help. She felt hopeless, unable to fix the bigger picture. When she was younger, she assumed nice people could help save the world and all ended just and good. Was growing up realizing this innocent naïve ideal was untrue?

She wanted to go outside and hold James, kiss him, ruffle his hair. She was afraid she'd make his worry worse if he had to hide it from her.

She reasoned that going out to give him a simple bit of comfort wouldn't do any harm, and stepped out the door, shutting it behind her silently.

There were some nights when he was too tired to have sex with her, but he'd burst through the door of their bedroom late, after he missed dinner, and before she could scold him he'd wrap her up in an embrace. He'd say absolutely nothing the whole time, but would sigh into her hair and grip her tightly until she curled into his body, protecting her almost like a shell. She'd rub his back and lie with him, not sleeping but not fully awake, for what would seem like hours. More than once he'd collapse on top of her and she'd be the one holding him as he nuzzled her chest and clutched her as close to him as humanly possible. He'd search for solace in her arms. She was glad to comfort him, to be the one he turned to, but the pain he was in killed her. She feared what he had seen or heard during the day to make him like that, quiet, mirthless, desperate. Was this him growing up?

She reached the empty, cold air behind him. Stepping out of their house into the world felt to open, the air reaching to the sky and past that into space and it occurred to Lily that they were surrounded by the entire universe, and seemingly in the center of it all were the two of them, together somehow, defying every rule and law and logic destiny had set.

"James." She whispered softly, bracing herself for a flinch or shudder, because sometimes when she interrupted him he would.

He remained still, only giving the slightest nod.

She stepped around the bench and leaned over him, pressing a kiss to his temple and ruffling that mess of hair he had. His eyes were glassy and faraway. His face betrayed no emotion, only exhaustion.

"I love you." she said, giving him a smile.

She patted his knee and turned to go, only to have his long fingers wrap around her wrist.

She turned to face him, and all the emotion he lacked before was balanced out by the intensity of his expression now. His eyes pleaded with her to stay and ease the pain he was feeling. She worriedly swept his unruly hair from his brow, only to have if fall back to where it was before. He slid over to make room for her next to him, pulling her to his side. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Its hell out there." He said shakily.

She sucked in a breath. "Tell me about it."

Even if helping was just listening, she'd do it.

"I just don't understand how people can be so bloody awful to each other. I mean, beyond that. Evil. There's so much hate."

He felt her nod and brush her cool fingers along the back of his neck.

"You're right," She sighed. "But for every evil person out there, there's you and me. And Sirius, and Remus, and Dumbledore, all these amazing, good people. Doesn't that make it worth it?"

He shifted away from her so he could look at her, leaning back against the creaky wooden bench. He glanced up at the sky, the moon glinting off his glasses. She caught herself mesmerized by his strong jaw and lean face, sharp cheekbones, impossible, beautiful hair, and usually smirking, horrid, irritating, bloody perfect lips. They were down turned now. His face was drawn and serious, eyes closed but his brow betrayed the pain behind them. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

He glanced down at her, a confused expression graciously replacing the troubled one. "What?"

She blushed.

"I mean…bullocks; this is hard to explain…"

"Is shagging all you think about?" he teased, poking her side.

Every once in a while, Lily found herself struck by just how much she loved him. The fact he was so brave and caring and loyal, he was even strong enough to smile and take care of her and worry about her with all this chaos in the world. How he could still laugh and joke and tease like he hadn't been holding on to her for dear life beforehand.

Lily snuggled closer to him, staring at his feet as she carefully picked out the words she'd say next.

"James…I know the future is going to be difficult, and I don't even know how long it will take for things to get better. But I want to help you."

She felt him flinch and suck in a breath, already bracing himself for what she'd say. He knew it, and she knew that he knew.

"I want to fight."

As soon as she said it he leaned his head back and moaned like a wounded animal. His arms were already tight around her, crushing her, cradling her, holding her as if it would change her mind.

"I can't…" his voice broke.

"It's not like I need your permission." She said, a bit more angrily than she intended, but she was tired of being the one who waited at home for him to get back.

"No, Lily…" he tried to explain, but fell silent.

She glanced up at him to see tears glint in his eyes.

"I can't let anything happen to you." he cradled her head against his chest, his lips brushing her forehead. "Lily, so many people are getting hurt…are dying. If I ever lost you…" his eyes squinted shut. He was trying so hard not to cry that her heart almost burst. She hated to be the one to cause him more pain, she hated seeing him hurt, she hated seeing him vulnerable, not mischievous, arrogant Potter.

"James…" she whispered. "Look at me."

Her finger gently trailed his chin and pulled him to her gaze.

"This is why I want to fight. Because all these people are being hurt and I want to help. I want to help you. This isn't going away anytime soon, we have to act."

He didn't seem convinced, but he was listening.

"I love you James, and if I lost you, I would have no reason to live. This is my promise to you; we will stick together no matter what. I will not let myself be separated from you."

He snorted. "And if one of us winds up dead?"

She bit her lip but her eyes did not waver, they poured even deeper into his and he couldn't look away.

"If I'm unfortunate enough to be the one who survives after you're gone, I'll follow right after."

His eyes shut tight and he turned his head away.

"Lily, promise me you won't do that."

This time she clung to him like he had to her. Desperately pushing him closer, she began to cry, large heaving sobs.

"James, I can't live without you. If I could, I wouldn't be promising this. I hate that I need you so much, but it's the truth. There will never be anyone else like you. I don't want to be left alone."

He lay there stiffly, trying to comfort her and process everything that was just said, as she cried.

Was fighting the grown up thing to do? Crying to her husband when she didn't even have to suffer the way he had didn't feel grown-up, it felt weak and powerless and childish. She wanted to be strong enough to fight in this war; she didn't want James stopping her. She loved him too much to watch him suffer through this alone. She didn't know if he'd be alright, after he left if he'd be safe or not. She wanted to be with and protect him, and hoped with every fiber of her being she could.

She took a deep breath a wiped the tears from her eyes. James was still lost in thought, so she let him go and climbed onto his lap so she was straddling him. Her hands held his shoulders and she gave him a look that demanded he listen to her, which he obeyed.

"I agreed to be Mrs. James Potter. I'm yours; you're mine; however we want to view this we are together. I love you, and I want to be with you."

"'Till death do us part." He said bitterly.

She shook her head stubbornly. He saw a faint glimmer of the scolding Head Girl Lily Evans and bit back a bittersweet smile.

"No, even longer. Don't ask me how I know James, but I just do. We'll always be together"

Was it childish to believe this to be true? Or was it grown up to know that she'd found the second half of her?

Her eyes looked black in the darkness. Dusk had settled into the grey-skied darkness of a summer night. If her face wasn't so close to his he wouldn't be able to see her, and she was so near in proximity he felt slightly cross-eyed looking at her.

"I love you," he breathed out, his words tickling her lips.

Her fingers tangled into his hair as she kissed him, deeply, possessively, as if making a promise.

"I love you too, you great stubborn ass."

His hands ran down her back and slipped into the pockets on the seat of her pants. She shivered as he groped and grabbed her bum through the thick denim. His hands moved to ghost up and down the backs of her thighs, then rubbing up against her clothed center. She whimpered, biting her lip and pulling his hair a bit harder than she meant to. He gave a pained grunt, more like how he did back in school and she scratched him too hard, more for show than actually expressing pain. One hand slid down the front of her jeans and rubbed her slit, growing damp from arousal.

She cried out, slamming her hands on the back of the bench and climbing off of him. Standing between his legs, she pushed down her pants, hopping awkwardly to get them off. She needed him now. Shimmying her legs, she managed to slide off her underwear, climbing back on top of her husband. She never looked away from his eyes as she ran her hands up and down his chest, grinding against him. James pulled her shirt off over her head and his own followed. She grabbed him and held him close again. She fumbled with the fly of his trousers and freed his growing desire of her. After giving him a few strokes for good measure, she pulled him into her heat. They both grunted in reaction, him with a throaty groan and her gently whimpering. Her hips began to shift and she rode him, pressing down on him as hard as she could. Her shins were being scratched rubbing against the bench but she didn't notice. He kissed his way down her chest and unclasped her bra, leaving her breasts free to bounce along with her movements, catching one in his mouth to suck on. He tossed her bra off to the side, faintly hearing it land on the bushes before forgetting everything else around him but her.

Coated in a layer of sweat they drove each other to completion. James' hips managed to push up to meet her with rough thrusts, despite her pinning him in a seated position to the bench. He released her nipple and his head fell back as he panted. She leaned down to capture him in a kiss, her tongue invading his mouth. His hands found her hips and helped drive him deeper in her. She cried out against his mouth, silenced by the crushing lip-lock. The pressure inside her built up and finally, with a particularly hard thrust from James, she came, closely followed by him as her walls clenched around him.

She loved this man. This boy. Whatever. It didn't matter. He was just James and she was just Lily, and looking back, it always seemed to be this way. They'd be James and Lily Potter forever, no one could change that. All she wanted was to be joined with him, enjoying togetherness in every way possible, getting a close in each and every single way. She felt she'd die without his constant presence, she needed him to stay. She'd fight for him and for them and for all those other people that needed help.

Her palms settled on the pulse points of his neck, which was thundering and beating underneath both of their skin. Her fingers stretched up to curve around his jaw and hold his face in her line of vision. She was shaking from the recovery of her orgasm and breathing heavily.

"James…"

She didn't know what else to say. It seemed to be the only thing left to say.

He nodded, slipping his arms around her, settling loosely on the small of her back.

Panting and exhausted, she collapsed against his chest and she wrapped her arms tight around him. She placed quick, gentle kisses up and down his neck and he grunted.

"Lily, please, let's just enjoy this... Give me a minute to rest..." He muttered tiredly.

She gave him a look. "Potter, where's this amazing stamina you always bragged about? Something tells me your sexual prowess isn't as mind-blowing as you say."

"Don't doubt… my seductive… powers…" He panted out. "Didn't I get you to shag me on a bench in our yard?" her laughter severed the built up tension that had surrounded them for hours. He joined her with a gentle chuckle as he pushed her sweat-soaked hair off her forehead and peppered it with light kisses.

"What, I can't kiss you but you can have your way with me?" she pouted.

"What do you think, Mrs. Potter?" he challenged.

She fake-punched his chest, letting out and indignant squeal before bursting out into more laughter. She took his chin in her hand and led his lips to hers. They kissed for what felt like an eternity, until it got so dark they couldn't see each other even when they were face to face. They got up and fumbled for their clothes, not bothering finding Lily's bra as she just threw her shirt back on. They retreated back into their house, holding hands and playfully bumping one another every few moments, Lily almost sending James into a rosebush with a practiced shove.

Then she realized she didn't need to be grown-up just yet. She had James. With him, she was lucky enough to be challenged into being mature, making the adult decision, yet being pulled back into petty, childish, lighthearted arguments over nothing. She hoped that next year and when they were thirty or forty or a hundred and seven they'd still get into stupid spats like this. Even if they didn't, she just wanted to spend eternity with him.

Because he was more than the person she married, he was the other half of her, the reason she lived.

A/N- Timeline's probably not correct. *sigh* I tried to be accurate.

I'm reading the deathly hallows for the first time, don't judge me. I'm obsessed with this couple and literally every time their names are mentioned I cry. I hate that I'm leaning now how little justice the movies do the characters, I mean, Tonks and Remus, WTF? They're given nothing, and all the good, interesting parts were cut. Jesus Christ everyone was so miscast. All you die hard fans must be freaking out that I'm learning this now, I know, I'm super late jumping on the Potter Bandwagon. All I can say is this is a beautiful series of books with wonderful characters and relationships. Don't hate just because I'm late.

I know this is a bit severe, making the Potter Clan Death Pact, but I think most of their relationship is tragic and I like working with cruel irony. This was before Harry, and obviously they never would have even considered this if there was a kid in the picture at the time. I mean hey, Lily got what she wanted, sort of. Okay, I know it's sad. But they're together and that's all I want.

Title is from I'll Follow You into the Dark by Deathcab for Cutie, though I didn't want to do a songfic because I find the random lyrics hella distracting, especially in dialogue and sexytimes.

Once again, though I have grown since last year and my skill at writing lemons has improved somewhat, I'm sorry if this isn't its best. I'm trying to get better at writing these things.

Reviews always appreciated. And encouraged. Review. Now. Please.