FIC: Risks Of The Job (1/1)
Aug. 27th, 2009 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leashy_bebesTitle: Risks Of The Job
Author: leashy bebes
Rating: PG-13 for language
Pairing: James II/Scorpius
Summary: Getting There outtake, set a few years after the original fic ends. Of course something's going to go wrong, but something going wrong is par for the course with Quidditch, and James doesn't think twice about rolling in mid air and dropping from his broom
Words: 1650
As far as James is concerned, life could not possibly be better. Quidditch is much more than a sport to him now, much more than a job. It's a way of life, something completely inherent to himself, and he loves it more than almost anything, especially on days like today.
The match is going perfectly. They're seventy points up, James is on great form, Scorpius is in the stands, the conditions are nearly ideal apart from a slight westward wind, so of course something's going to go wrong. But something going wrong is par for the course with Quidditch, and James doesn't think twice about rolling in mid air and dropping from his broom, one hand wound tight around the stick, the other extended to thump the Quaffle away from the oncoming Harpies chaser. That works just fine, and James is in the process of shifting his weight and his broom in the complicated movement that will see him flying upright again when it all goes wrong.
A Bludger shoots past his right foot and he lunges out of the way only to feel a sickening crack of pain in his left wrist, answering reverberation in his broomstick. He has time to think fuck, the other Bludger and then his broomstick is wrenched from his hand and he's plummeting, too fast to even think about bracing himself, or rolling with it, or anything else.
He hears himself hit the ground but doesn't feel it. That's probably a good thing.
***
The next thing he's aware of is the team medic's voice, and ridiculous pain in his legs and arms and jaw and back and - hell, everything.
"James? James! James! Take this, come on."
A potion is poured efficiently down his throat and James doesn't even have the energy to gag. The pain cools off a little and it feels like his whole body has given a sigh of relief. And then - and this is weird enough to scare James in a way Quidditch injuries have never scared him before - he loses control of his eyes. They keep rolling independently of each other, as though he's about to fall asleep or pass out, and he can't make himself look forward, and then the pain is back, near his waist on the left.
It doesn't feel like a pulled muscle or even a broken bone. It's a deeper pain, one he's never experienced before, a dull, throbbing ache somewhere inside. James tries to curl his body around the pain but strong hands press him back and he hears voices talking in anxious tones, saying words he can't make out.
***
The next thing he's aware of is total silence, accompanied by cool sheets, a sense of stillness, and an unmistakeably clinical smell. I hate this place, he thinks to himself before he even opens his eyes.
"Bloody Mungo's," he grumbles quietly, and hears a noise off to his side, like a stifled gasp. Turning his head takes a bit of effort - his neck is sore, as though he's slept on it awkwardly - but it's worth it when he sees Scorpius sitting tensely on the chair next to his bed, looking at James closely. "Hi," James offers.
"Hello," Scorpius returns quietly, almost warily.
"How long was I out?"
"Too long," Scorpius says tightly, and James raises an eyebrow. "Six and a half hours. Listen, I need to go and tell your parents and the Healers that you're awake, so - "
"Wait a minute," James insists. "You alright?" he asks carefully, imagining that he can see the worry caused by every minute of each one of those hours written across Scorpius's face.
"Uh-huh," Scorpius says with a noncommittal shrug. "Do that again though, and I'll put you in hospital, never mind Bludgers."
"Hey, I feel fine now," James reminds him. "And it's Quidditch. Hospitalisation's basically in the contract," James points out reasonably.
"You had seventeen fractures and internal bleeding. Excuse me if I'm slightly fucking tense."
"Oh," James says, trying to process that. "Well I don't have them anymore, do I?"
"No, but - "
"I'm fine. C'mere," he says, holding out his hand. Scorpius approaches the side of the bed and takes James's hand a bit stiffly. "Hey. Look at me? Sorry I scared you."
"You didn't scare me, Potter," Scorpius scoffs. "You nearly gave me a heart attack but you didn't scare me."
"'course not," James teases with a grin, and Scorpius squeezes James's hand tight. "How'd you get in?" James asks. "I thought it was family only in his hell-hole."
"Your dad told the Healers it was okay, gave them some excuse. No one was going to argue with him, anyway."
"No?"
"No. Scary man, your dad."
"When he wants to be," James agrees. "So, tell me the plan."
"Plan?"
"To get me out of here."
"Oh. Well, I thought first of all you'd stay in bed and take your Potions. And then, after that, you can stay in bed and take your fucking Potions."
"Rubbish," James grumbles.
"It'll only be overnight, apparently. And then you're coming home with me for a few days."
"I am?" James asks.
"With me, or with your mother. You choose."
"Ugh. With you, obviously. But can't we just go now?"
"No, James, we cannot just go now. You're not even going to move until you absolutely have to," Scorpius insists.
"Where did this new, overprotective Scorpius come from?" James jokes.
"Are you mad? I just watched you plummeting to the ground at hundreds of miles an hour."
"To be fair, you see that quite a lot."
"To be even more fair, your broomstick is usually not shooting off in the opposite direction at roughly the same speed."
James laughs and then coughs in an effort to cover a wince.
"James..."
"Scorp, I'm honestly alright."
"But - "
"Scorp - "
"I love you and I'm glad you're okay," Scorpius says in a rush.
"You're such an idiot," James says fondly.
"You - er. They said someone can stay with you tonight, if you want."
"Please say it's going to be you?"
"Yeah. Your mum wanted to, but Al said you'd rather it was me."
"Thank Merlin for Al."
"Yeah."
"You can sit down, you know," James says, tugging on Scorpius' hand. Scorpius perches uncertainly on the edge of the bed.
"Are you - are you really alright?" he asks warily.
"I'm really alright. I feel pretty good, actually, probably because I'm high as a kite. These potions are brilliant," he says, glancing over at the row of bottles set out on the bedside table.
"Good," Scorpius smiles. "Do you feel like you could get some sleep?"
"Maybe. You should go and get a coffee, something to eat."
"I'm not hungry, I'll go and let people know you're back with us and then I'll be straight back."
"To watch me sleep?" James teases.
"To watch you sleep," Scorpius says seriously.
"Like a creepy stalker?"
"Oi! Like an increasingly less concerned boyfriend, you wanker."
"You sweet-talker, you," James grins, but it's a half-hearted affair because now Scorpius has mentioned the word sleep... Yeah, James is really tired. He feels Scorpius press a kiss onto his forehead, lips lingering there for a long moment. "Love you," James mutters, and Scorpius really must have been worried because there isn't even as attempt at a sarcastic comeback as he whispers against James's skin,
"I love you too. So much."
***
The next time James wakes up he feels groggy, like he's been sleeping for hours, but he's still tired and it's so much easier to just stay still than to try moving. Even without opening his eyes he can tell that it's dark now, and he only realises after a few moments that he can hear a man's voice talking softly.
" - be alright, son."
"I know," Scorpius says, before James can open his eyes and tell his dad to stop being such a bloody drip.
Oh, James thinks, and keeps quiet, his eyes closed.
"Do you still want to stay the night?" his dad asks.
"Please," Scorpius says quietly.
"Alright. Here - "
There is a brief noise as though something has been Transfigured, and Scorpius gives a tired laugh.
"Thanks."
"I told the Healers that if anything comes up, they can tell you."
"Thanks, Harry," Scorpius says, sounding tired.
"Do you need anything else?"
"No, I don't think so. You'll be back in the morning?"
"Before work for an hour or so," James's dad says. "I can help you take him home if he's ready to leave by then."
"Great," Scorpius says. "See you then."
"Alright. Try to get some sleep, okay? D'you need an extra blanket?"
"No thanks."
"Okay. Night, Scorpius."
"Night."
The door opens and then closes again, and a moment later Scorpius clears his throat significantly.
"I know you're awake," he says.
"How d'you do that?" James asks, opening his eyes to look at Scorpius who is curled up in the chair next to the bed, covered with a blanket.
"Practice," he shrugs. "Also, you make this stupid little noise most times you wake up."
"Do not," James argues, out of reflex more than anything else.
"Do so."
"Mmm... Goodnight kiss?" James asks, turning his face towards Scorpius. Scorpius obliges with a gentle kiss then laughs and squeezes James' hand. "What?" James asks.
"You taste like interesting drugs," Scorpius admits.
"Ha!" James laughs. "Yeah. It's kind of fun. You going to be able to sleep in that chair?"
"Your dad Transfigured it, it's actually quite comfortable."
"Okay," James says, trying to hide a yawn. "Is my broom alright?"
"Nothing you can't fix," Scorpius promises.
"Good. What - " he breaks off with another massive yawn.
"James. Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Mmm. G'night, Scorp."
"Good night, James," Scorpius says, and there's a gentle shuffling noise as he edges his chair closer to James's bed.
Author: leashy bebes
Rating: PG-13 for language
Pairing: James II/Scorpius
Summary: Getting There outtake, set a few years after the original fic ends. Of course something's going to go wrong, but something going wrong is par for the course with Quidditch, and James doesn't think twice about rolling in mid air and dropping from his broom
Words: 1650
As far as James is concerned, life could not possibly be better. Quidditch is much more than a sport to him now, much more than a job. It's a way of life, something completely inherent to himself, and he loves it more than almost anything, especially on days like today.
The match is going perfectly. They're seventy points up, James is on great form, Scorpius is in the stands, the conditions are nearly ideal apart from a slight westward wind, so of course something's going to go wrong. But something going wrong is par for the course with Quidditch, and James doesn't think twice about rolling in mid air and dropping from his broom, one hand wound tight around the stick, the other extended to thump the Quaffle away from the oncoming Harpies chaser. That works just fine, and James is in the process of shifting his weight and his broom in the complicated movement that will see him flying upright again when it all goes wrong.
A Bludger shoots past his right foot and he lunges out of the way only to feel a sickening crack of pain in his left wrist, answering reverberation in his broomstick. He has time to think fuck, the other Bludger and then his broomstick is wrenched from his hand and he's plummeting, too fast to even think about bracing himself, or rolling with it, or anything else.
He hears himself hit the ground but doesn't feel it. That's probably a good thing.
***
The next thing he's aware of is the team medic's voice, and ridiculous pain in his legs and arms and jaw and back and - hell, everything.
"James? James! James! Take this, come on."
A potion is poured efficiently down his throat and James doesn't even have the energy to gag. The pain cools off a little and it feels like his whole body has given a sigh of relief. And then - and this is weird enough to scare James in a way Quidditch injuries have never scared him before - he loses control of his eyes. They keep rolling independently of each other, as though he's about to fall asleep or pass out, and he can't make himself look forward, and then the pain is back, near his waist on the left.
It doesn't feel like a pulled muscle or even a broken bone. It's a deeper pain, one he's never experienced before, a dull, throbbing ache somewhere inside. James tries to curl his body around the pain but strong hands press him back and he hears voices talking in anxious tones, saying words he can't make out.
***
The next thing he's aware of is total silence, accompanied by cool sheets, a sense of stillness, and an unmistakeably clinical smell. I hate this place, he thinks to himself before he even opens his eyes.
"Bloody Mungo's," he grumbles quietly, and hears a noise off to his side, like a stifled gasp. Turning his head takes a bit of effort - his neck is sore, as though he's slept on it awkwardly - but it's worth it when he sees Scorpius sitting tensely on the chair next to his bed, looking at James closely. "Hi," James offers.
"Hello," Scorpius returns quietly, almost warily.
"How long was I out?"
"Too long," Scorpius says tightly, and James raises an eyebrow. "Six and a half hours. Listen, I need to go and tell your parents and the Healers that you're awake, so - "
"Wait a minute," James insists. "You alright?" he asks carefully, imagining that he can see the worry caused by every minute of each one of those hours written across Scorpius's face.
"Uh-huh," Scorpius says with a noncommittal shrug. "Do that again though, and I'll put you in hospital, never mind Bludgers."
"Hey, I feel fine now," James reminds him. "And it's Quidditch. Hospitalisation's basically in the contract," James points out reasonably.
"You had seventeen fractures and internal bleeding. Excuse me if I'm slightly fucking tense."
"Oh," James says, trying to process that. "Well I don't have them anymore, do I?"
"No, but - "
"I'm fine. C'mere," he says, holding out his hand. Scorpius approaches the side of the bed and takes James's hand a bit stiffly. "Hey. Look at me? Sorry I scared you."
"You didn't scare me, Potter," Scorpius scoffs. "You nearly gave me a heart attack but you didn't scare me."
"'course not," James teases with a grin, and Scorpius squeezes James's hand tight. "How'd you get in?" James asks. "I thought it was family only in his hell-hole."
"Your dad told the Healers it was okay, gave them some excuse. No one was going to argue with him, anyway."
"No?"
"No. Scary man, your dad."
"When he wants to be," James agrees. "So, tell me the plan."
"Plan?"
"To get me out of here."
"Oh. Well, I thought first of all you'd stay in bed and take your Potions. And then, after that, you can stay in bed and take your fucking Potions."
"Rubbish," James grumbles.
"It'll only be overnight, apparently. And then you're coming home with me for a few days."
"I am?" James asks.
"With me, or with your mother. You choose."
"Ugh. With you, obviously. But can't we just go now?"
"No, James, we cannot just go now. You're not even going to move until you absolutely have to," Scorpius insists.
"Where did this new, overprotective Scorpius come from?" James jokes.
"Are you mad? I just watched you plummeting to the ground at hundreds of miles an hour."
"To be fair, you see that quite a lot."
"To be even more fair, your broomstick is usually not shooting off in the opposite direction at roughly the same speed."
James laughs and then coughs in an effort to cover a wince.
"James..."
"Scorp, I'm honestly alright."
"But - "
"Scorp - "
"I love you and I'm glad you're okay," Scorpius says in a rush.
"You're such an idiot," James says fondly.
"You - er. They said someone can stay with you tonight, if you want."
"Please say it's going to be you?"
"Yeah. Your mum wanted to, but Al said you'd rather it was me."
"Thank Merlin for Al."
"Yeah."
"You can sit down, you know," James says, tugging on Scorpius' hand. Scorpius perches uncertainly on the edge of the bed.
"Are you - are you really alright?" he asks warily.
"I'm really alright. I feel pretty good, actually, probably because I'm high as a kite. These potions are brilliant," he says, glancing over at the row of bottles set out on the bedside table.
"Good," Scorpius smiles. "Do you feel like you could get some sleep?"
"Maybe. You should go and get a coffee, something to eat."
"I'm not hungry, I'll go and let people know you're back with us and then I'll be straight back."
"To watch me sleep?" James teases.
"To watch you sleep," Scorpius says seriously.
"Like a creepy stalker?"
"Oi! Like an increasingly less concerned boyfriend, you wanker."
"You sweet-talker, you," James grins, but it's a half-hearted affair because now Scorpius has mentioned the word sleep... Yeah, James is really tired. He feels Scorpius press a kiss onto his forehead, lips lingering there for a long moment. "Love you," James mutters, and Scorpius really must have been worried because there isn't even as attempt at a sarcastic comeback as he whispers against James's skin,
"I love you too. So much."
***
The next time James wakes up he feels groggy, like he's been sleeping for hours, but he's still tired and it's so much easier to just stay still than to try moving. Even without opening his eyes he can tell that it's dark now, and he only realises after a few moments that he can hear a man's voice talking softly.
" - be alright, son."
"I know," Scorpius says, before James can open his eyes and tell his dad to stop being such a bloody drip.
Oh, James thinks, and keeps quiet, his eyes closed.
"Do you still want to stay the night?" his dad asks.
"Please," Scorpius says quietly.
"Alright. Here - "
There is a brief noise as though something has been Transfigured, and Scorpius gives a tired laugh.
"Thanks."
"I told the Healers that if anything comes up, they can tell you."
"Thanks, Harry," Scorpius says, sounding tired.
"Do you need anything else?"
"No, I don't think so. You'll be back in the morning?"
"Before work for an hour or so," James's dad says. "I can help you take him home if he's ready to leave by then."
"Great," Scorpius says. "See you then."
"Alright. Try to get some sleep, okay? D'you need an extra blanket?"
"No thanks."
"Okay. Night, Scorpius."
"Night."
The door opens and then closes again, and a moment later Scorpius clears his throat significantly.
"I know you're awake," he says.
"How d'you do that?" James asks, opening his eyes to look at Scorpius who is curled up in the chair next to the bed, covered with a blanket.
"Practice," he shrugs. "Also, you make this stupid little noise most times you wake up."
"Do not," James argues, out of reflex more than anything else.
"Do so."
"Mmm... Goodnight kiss?" James asks, turning his face towards Scorpius. Scorpius obliges with a gentle kiss then laughs and squeezes James' hand. "What?" James asks.
"You taste like interesting drugs," Scorpius admits.
"Ha!" James laughs. "Yeah. It's kind of fun. You going to be able to sleep in that chair?"
"Your dad Transfigured it, it's actually quite comfortable."
"Okay," James says, trying to hide a yawn. "Is my broom alright?"
"Nothing you can't fix," Scorpius promises.
"Good. What - " he breaks off with another massive yawn.
"James. Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Mmm. G'night, Scorp."
"Good night, James," Scorpius says, and there's a gentle shuffling noise as he edges his chair closer to James's bed.
