The Throne (Prince Harry fanfic #6)

Chapter Twenty

The biopsy procedure took an hour. Harry waited.

Since knowing his wife, Harry was used to an hour taking forever. It wasn't just that Lucy got hurt sometimes, she got hurt a lot. So when he showed up to the hospital or to wherever, he ended up waiting to see her. This wasn't different really. Harry waited again. The phone call with his son wasted two minutes, but now he had more time. However, the call allowed Harry to calm at his son's voice.

Sitting down in the chair, Harry leaned back and closed his eyes. The room was so bright and warm. Harry's skin itched. His mind continued to run at a million miles an hour, but slowly his mind buzzed. Slowly Harry faded into black with Lucy on his mind.

Immediately Harry knew it was dream, and immediately Harry knew it was a nightmare. Standing over a grave, it was Lucy's, made up with a beautiful carving for a headstone with colorful flowers for her flowerbed. Harry hated it because he knew Lucy hated flowers. She said they were too pretty and girly, and they smelt too strongly; it made her want to vomit. This was the last thing she wanted. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the ground beneath him, where Lucy's decomposing body laid.

This is a nightmare, Harry told himself. This isn't real.

Yet it felt so real. The smell of the roses fluttered upward and caught his nose. The scent landed on his tongue. Tears burned his eyes. A breeze flipped his hair and curled around his ears. A chill ran up his spine. His body shuddered. His eyes didn't draw away. Mouth going dry, his breath caught in his throat, and he coughed.

Slowly, Harry was able to take his eyes away from Lucy's grave, no matter how it terrified him. All of this scared him. Lucy wasn't meant to be here, not before him. She was thirteen years younger. She was supposed to die long after him. She was supposed to have many years yet to come. But that wasn't her life.

As Harry took in her grave in full, he realized who Lucy lied next to: his mother. Shaking his head, Harry shrank back. "No." Panic rose in him. "No-- you're not-- no. Luce. You're alive. You're fine. You're alive. This is a nightmare." He shook like an earthquake. "No."

"You don't want to have sex with me?" asked a female voice.

Harry whipped his head around, listening for the voice. "Luce?"

"Yeah, and I think we should have sex." Her voice went in and out, hovering somewhere.

"Where are you?"

"Right in front of you." There was a pause. "Harry, open your eyes."

His eyes fluttered open. The bright room materialized, coming out of just bright light. Harry faced the bed, which Lucy was awake and was lying down. Her head faced him. Her eyes rested on him. Her lips pursed.

"You were having a bad dream," she said.

Harry cleared his throat and rocked forward. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone's been poking around in my brain. And you?"

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me, Weasley. I thought we were going to better. We aren't going to lie anymore."

Swallowing, Harry touched her hand. "Did you really ask me to have sex with you?"

Lucy smirked and rolled her eyes. "That's what you remember." His hand rested on the bed and Lucy took it within her fingers. "What was the nightmare?"

"I saw you dead."

Shrugging, she took that in. "Probably. Continue."

"You were buried right next to my mum."

Lucy gave his fingers a squeeze. "That'll be where I'm buried."

"Hopefully after me."

"You think you're dying first?"

"I'm older than you, Luce."

"You're a lot healthier than I am. I've seen you eat; I've seen me eat. You're surviving for a while, especially with your granny's genes," she sassed. "No, you're dying after me, and then you're not allowed to marry someone else. I called dibs. Don't be someone's sloppy seconds."

Harry laughed. "We're talking about something completely morbid."

"My life was morbid before I met you." Her thumb ran over Harry's soft skin. "Don't die, Harry."

"I probably should say that to you, Luce. After all, you've got something in your head."

She laughed. "It's probably bad to laugh about cancer, Harry. It's so... inappropriate or something. It's weak. We-- we should be stoic." Lucy tried to make her face stone but it didn't work. She burst out laughing. "We should be crying and scared. You're scared, Harry."

"You're not?"

"Sometimes," Lucy admitted, "but I think about all the people who have tried to kill me. Now it's just me. I blame myself for this one." She let out a shaky laugh but it was still a laugh. "I am happy with the life I have lived, Harry. It's not what I expected. It's not what I wanted. For the longest time, I didn't think it was what I deserved.

"But I deserved this, Harry. I deserve you. I deserve our children. I deserve this life.

"And it makes me sound like an asshole." Lucy laughed again. This time it was so happy that it was contagious. "I sound like an asshole and I know it. I say that I deserve this life for the shit that I've put up with and the shit I've done, but I don't deserve this life. I don't deserve any of this.

"The world doesn't owe you anything. You have to go get it, and you have to fight for it."

"Will you fight for it?" Harry asked.

Lucy studied him.

"Luce, if this cancer and it's everywhere in your body, will you fight for our children and for our life?" Harry came closer to her face. His breath warmed her icy skin. "I know it's going to be difficult because how it advanced it might be. And it'll be painful and long, and even then, you may not survive. But will you fight for our children? So you can watch them grow up and be adults and have lives; so they can have their mum. Will you fight for our life together? The five of us," he said, "or the two of us. Luce, will you fight for me?"

"Harry, I've always fought for you, and I will continue to fight for you."