James wished that obnoxious beeping noise would stop.

It was disrupting his dream – his beautiful, happy, lucky dream… that he could now no longer remember. Had there been a puppy? There had definitely been a puppy.

Pain shot through his left side as his body gave an involuntary twitch – the kind of twitch that happened when one had been lying down in the same position for far too long and their body could no longer take it.

"Ow," he groaned – or at least he tried to. What seemed to gurgle out of his mouth instead was more of an "uuuhhh" as some of the haze surrounding him began to disappear while he came back to reality.

There was a sharp movement to his right as someone quickly approached him.

"What was that?" he heard an excited voice say.

It was a lovely voice, he thought distractedly. Or at least he thought it was until his eyelid was gently tugged backwards and an irritating light was shined on it. The same was immediately done to his left eye.

"Ow!" he tried again, this time louder. His head already felt like a bucket filled with rocks, and the uninvited light contributed nothing but further discomfort.

"Sorry!" the soft voice murmured soothingly. "I'm just checking your pupils." The light disappeared almost as quickly as it had come.

James slowly blinked a few times before finally, painstakingly, opening his eyes, although he had trouble focusing them. There seemed to be a blur of red and white hovering just above him. He squinted.

Although he was nearly blind without his specs, the blur was close enough that he could make out a bit of his surroundings. As his eyes focused somewhat, they latched onto a face.

His hazel eyes met green ones, which were looking at him with a mix of curiosity and that same excitement he'd heard in her voice.

James blinked once. Then twice.

An angel. He was looking at an angel.

Admittedly, a slightly blurry angel – but an angel nonetheless.

Gorgeous strands of red hair were sneaking out of a messy braid thrown over her shoulder. Her brilliant green eyes were peering down at him. A soft white light was framing her head, glowing around it like a halo. He half-expected to hear bells.

An actual angel.

But wait – that couldn't be right. Was he dead? James didn't feel dead – because wasn't death supposed to be painless and freeing? James was definitely not in pain-free bliss – quite the opposite actually. He felt so heavy; his whole body ached.

The angel seemed to be muttering something but he couldn't quite understand what she was saying. He also couldn't bloody see clearly enough, and it was starting to strain his eyes.

He blinked again furiously before croaking, "Glasses." There was a slight shuffling and very gently his lenses were slipped onto his face. The scene around him suddenly came into sharper focus.

The light around whoever was with him was not, in fact, a halo – but rather the light illuminating from a glass ball of fluorescent flames hanging from the ceiling, meant to light the room.

The face of what he had thought was an angel came swimming back into his line of sight as he shifted his focus slightly. Bizarrely, the first detail he noticed was the small smattering of light freckles across her small, straight nose. Once again, his eyes met her green ones.

"Wh-what happened?" he managed to croak out again. Feeling slightly overwhelmed for some reason, he distractedly turned his head to catch a glimpse of his surroundings instead.

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Potter, can you hear me?" The lovely, smooth voice calmly tried to draw his attention back.

"Mr. Potter," the woman said again, soothingly. "You are at St. Mungo's Hospital. There was a battle. You were injured while on duty for the Ministry of Magic and transported here for treatment."

Violent images suddenly came flashing back to him. They had been checking out a dubious tip about a Death Eater hideout- one that had ended up being an ambush. The small Auror team sent out to scout had been vastly outnumbered. There'd been a duel.

"Sirius!" he gasped, jolting upright and immediately grimacing as pain shot through his body at the sudden movement.

Gentle hands grasped his shoulders. "Please, Mr. Potter," she said, still in that soft, understanding voice as she pushed him back to his pillow. "Please stay still; you're in pretty rough shape. I can move your bed upright to make you more comfortable if you'd prefer."

"Where's Sirius?" he rasped again, his heart pounding in his chest. His last memory of Sirius was him falling after Rookwood had taken a shot at him.

"The annoyingly dramatic one who thinks he knows better than a trained professional?" the woman asked tiredly with a defeated-sounding chuckle.

James had no idea to what specifically she was referring, but that definitely sounded like Sirius.

"He went out for a smoke about ten minutes ago," she sighed. She continued to talk casually, checking his vitals and other medical requirements that James couldn't even begin to understand, even if he tried. "He'll be back soon. Hasn't left your side except for his nicotine needs and natural bodily functions. Though that was only because I had to convince him that it was highly improper to transfigure the visitor's chair into a urinal in the hospital, mind you. He would've gladly let the room smell like piss otherwise."

That also sounded like Sirius.

James sighed in deep relief, and regretted this immediately, giving a slight howl of pain.

"Careful!" the healer admonished. "Mr. Potter, you've got two broken ribs and a nasty – and still healing – scar. You are recovering from a life-saving operation, not to mention a very bad concussion. Please be careful with the body I've worked so hard to take care of."

"James," he wheezed, only half-listening to his apparent list of injuries. "Please, call me James." He felt weird having a young, attractive woman – who couldn't be more than a year older or younger than he was – referring to him so formally.

James was very aware of her hands as she carefully fluffed his pillows and pulled out her wand to adjust his bed settings.

"All right," she said kindly. "James, then." Something about the way she said his name nearly made him shudder.

He slowly, painstakingly, held out a bruised hand as he was steadily raised upright in bed, flashing her a smile. "And you are – I'm guessing – the one I have to thank for saving my life?" he asked as she put away her wand after having propped him up more comfortably.

She blushed slightly as she slipped her hand into his. "Lily," she smiled back. "Lily Evans. And you did most of the miraculous surviving on your own; I simply helped the process a bit."

Considering the state he was in, James didn't buy that for a second, but chuckled anyway. Pretty, kind, and modest. He liked her.

"Lily Evans," he repeated, holding eye contact. "Nice to meet you – and thanks. I mean it." The name sounded strangely familiar to him, yet he knew he had never met her before. He could never have forgotten a face like hers.

James then realized that he was still holding her hand captive and staring at her like an absolute imbecile. He abruptly pulled his hand away, clearing his throat in the process and hazarding another glance around. He wanted to look anywhere but at her, feeling deeply perturbed by the way his heart had leapt when his hand had touched hers, and by the fact that it still seemed to be racing even after having broken contact. Merlin, he was such a ponce.

"So," he began, trying to find something else to say. "Broken ribs, eh? That's not so ba––"

"Oi, Evans!" A familiar voice interrupted loudly. Someone was shouting from just outside the room, getting nearer. "Why the bloody hell doesn't this place sell cigarettes?"

Sirius Black, James' longtime best mate and co-conspirator, strutted into the room with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Because, Black," said Lily, rolling her eyes. "This is a hospital. We don't sell things that can kill you. And keep your voice down! People are rest––"

Just then, Sirius suddenly seemed to notice that his usually still and unconscious hospital roommate was no longer in the same state he'd left him in, but rather sitting upright and awake.

"PRONGS," he yelped, sounding utterly delighted as he barreled towards James and attacked him in a brotherly hug. "Nearly had me worried there, mate," he scolded disapprovingly, pulling back to glare at him. "Wasn't sure Ginger here was going to pull through and save you after all."

Lily rolled her eyes again, but turned away to busy herself with refolding a stack of bandages to the side, clearly trying to give them some privacy.

Although Sirius' tone had been light and joking, there were dark circles under his eyes, which held a somewhat haggard, worried look that told James that his condition had indeed been life threatening. That it had been close.

Privacy was not necessary, however, as Sirius clearly felt he'd made his point. James had always admired and feared his friend's ability to compartmentalize everything so quickly. He preferred to say things once and not get too gushy about them, as James knew well.

Sirius instead glanced at Lily's back with a roguish grin. "Cheer up, buttercup. You were right! Probably owe you a hug as well, eh?" he offered coquettishly, moving around James' bed with his arms outstretched.

James felt a strange lurch in the pit of his stomach as Sirius made to hug his healer, watching the two of them interact as if they were already old friends. He experienced an even weirder feeling of satisfaction when she dodged his attempts with a laugh.

"After the constant harassment and bullying, I think not, Black," she said dryly.

James stared at Sirius. "Tell me she's joking, mate."

Sirius waved a dismissive hand at him. "Harassment is a strong word. I was merely concerned with your well-being."

Lily scoffed. "'Oi, Ginger, we're trying to save his life here, not end it!' 'Now that can't be right- are you trying to kill him?' 'I read about this thing called the 'Heimlich maneuver' in the Prophet the other day – some bizarre action Muggles use to save lives. Why don't you give that a try?'" she mimicked in a deep voice, making air quotes as she spoke.

Once again, James was struck by how quickly he had started to like this girl – and her strong Sirius imitations. He let loose a mix of a laugh and a groan.

"Your mate here," Lily continued, "refused to leave when visiting hours were over, and insisted on sleeping on the floor." James saw that there was indeed a pillow and blanket tucked away into the far left corner of the room.

"He also repeatedly stole other patients' pudding," Lily glared at Sirius, "and tried to break into our healing chambers while you were undergoing life-saving treatment when you were first brought in."

Sirius simply shrugged in response. "Wanted to make sure they did everything they could. You should've seen the first nutter they assigned to your case. Arsehole had no bloody clue––"

Lily coughed loudly. "Ahem. That is my colleague and supervisor ––"

"Anyway," Sirius continued. "The bloody idiot basically thought you were doomed and a lost cause. So, of course, I start shouting at him in the hallway, because someone's got to stand up for you––"

"Naturally," James said with a grin.

"We're all there leaning over your nearly-dead body, and Evans here swoops in out of nowhere, grabs your file, and throws some wild idea to Senior Arsehole. He willingly hands over your case, clearly thinking 'better her than me on this one' since you were already on the brink of death – obviously doubting the brilliance that is Lily Marie Evans––"

Lily looked affronted. "How do you know my––"

Sirius held up a hand as if to say 'that's not important,' continuing, "––because let me tell you, Prongs, this bird is bloody brilliant. Fearlessly did everything she could think of to save your life."

Lily had a look that seemed to say 'well, that's not exactly what happened,' but Sirius plowed on ahead, proceeding to ignore her and recount his wild version of events that had happened while James had been unconscious.

"Not to mention she stayed around to keep an eye on you after you bloody well refused to wake up afterwards."

James started. "What? How long has it been?"

"Only a week," Lily interjected reassuringly before Sirius could lie and dramatically tell him it had been years. "Which is still longer than anticipated, but your body clearly needed time to recover. We tried to wake you after we'd put you in the magically-induced coma during treatment – you had been in so much pain and were thrashing all over the place while we tried to treat you," she added apologetically. "But then you wouldn't wake up. We were worried the concussion might have ended up being worse than your other injuries in the end, but there was still brain activity and no clear signs of permanent damage… so we waited," she explained.

She then shot him a glowing smile. "And then… you woke up. Finally."

It explained the excitement she'd felt when he had regained consciousness. James could tell Lily was making the story sound more optimistic than it had been, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

"Long story short," Sirius finished, "it was a close call, but I reckon we got really, really lucky with Evans here. She even dropped all her non-emergency cases to take care of you."

Lily looked a bit embarrassed, but still laughed. "No one else wanted to deal with him!" She jabbed a thumb at Sirius. "And who could blame them? It was patient care and babysitting all at once, which is definitely not in our job description."

James ignored Sirius' protests, and even though she'd been grinning while she said it, he still said, "Thank you," very seriously, looking her straight in the eyes. "Thank you for probably being the only reason I'm alive, and for putting up with him."

Lily smiled at him again, and he felt that now familiar, extra thump-thump-thump his heart gave in response. The weird feeling returned to his stomach. "I'm glad you're okay," she replied.

Sirius, James noticed, had suddenly gone very quiet and seemed to be looking suspiciously between the two of them.

James coughed. "Er, anyway," he began, ignoring the way Sirius' eyes started to gleam in a way that definitely meant trouble. "So, how long until I get released from here?" he asked, grasping for a change of subject. "I mean, not that I want to leave! But er, you know…" He scratched his head, falling awkwardly quiet.

Lily laughed, and James thought it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. "If I'd been comatose in the hospital for a week, I would want out too," she reassured him kindly. "A few more days for close observation, probably, but after that we'll send you home as long as you promise to come in for weekly check ups until we're no longer worried about that injury."

She smiled at him, and James found himself automatically smiling back. Sirius mimicked gagging in the background.

Lily glanced up at the clock on his wall. "I'm going to go update my supervisor on your condition and check on my other patients. Tap this button with your wand if you need me." She pointed to the yellow button to the left of his bed, and motioned to his wand that was now lying on his tray table.

He didn't notice that she'd pulled it out from wherever it had been stored while he had been unconscious, but he was grateful that she had. He couldn't explain the ease he felt knowing it was within reach again. James wondered just how many recovering Aurors Lily had taken care of during the war, and if that was how she knew just what to do and say to make them – him – feel better.

James nodded and watched her as she swept out of the room with her clipboard, pushing some of the strands out of her face distractedly as she disappeared from view.

He let out a long, slow sigh, and sank back into his elevated bed.

"Well," grinned Sirius. "That was enlightening."