FIC: Leave Me (PG-13)
Title: Leave Me
Type: Fic
Age-Range Category: Two
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Severus Snape, Eileen Snape, slightly Snape/Lupin
Author: maraudersaffair
Beta(s): Lena
Rating: PG-13
Click to View [Warning(s)]Mentions of spousal/child abuse, death of a parent, heavy angst, alcoholism.
Summary: Severus can't find his mum a day after the funeral of his father.
It was always a bad morning when Severus woke up thinking about Lupin. He didn't want to think about the werewolf, but his thoughts were one aspect about himself he still struggled to control.
Lupin was dangerous, deadly. He should be eliminated, put down. Severus' life would be loads easier if Lupin didn't exist. His life would be loads easier if no Gryffindor existed.
Except for Lily, his mind supplied. Groaning, Severus rolled over in bed and shoved a pillow over his head. He couldn't start thinking about Lily, too. He would lose it if he let her make a home in his mind.
The problem was his body ached desperately. He was seventeen and inexperienced; of course his body ached. He just wished it didn't ache when he thought about Lupin, when he thought about anyone. Desire was a weakness.
The house was quiet around him. He could tell no one else was at home, which made him frown. Right. His father was dead. He'd been dead for almost three weeks now, and Severus and his mum had put him in the ground yesterday. He liked imagining his father underground, alone and rotting. It was what his father deserved.
Severus pulled the pillow from his head and listened closer. He should hear his mum puttering about downstairs. He should hear the telly or her slow steps on the creaking staircase, perhaps even the roar of the Muggle hoover. She was in the habit of keeping house like a stupid Muggle, and he doubted his father's death would change that. His mum barely used her wand anymore.
Severus pushed himself from bed and cast a warming charm with a flourish. He left school two months ago and it still gave him a thrill to cast spells in his childhood bedroom.
He went downstairs. The house was empty, and cold. He pulled on a jumper and his boots, and searched the kitchen for a note, for any sign of his mum.
An empty bottle of wine waited for him on the cracked counter. There was also a shattered glass on the old lino. Fucking hell. He knew where his mum was.
Trembling, Severus left the house. The day was dreary and cold, even for summer. There were too many Muggles crowding the pavement, and he hated every last one of them. His hand tightened around the wand in his pocket.
He passed a corner chippy, and the scent of oil and salt made his stomach clench. He was hungry and wanted his tea, but he couldn't eat or drink before he found his mum. Her favourite pub huddled darkly at the end of a twisted street. His teeth ground together just looking at its grubby facade.
Inside the pub was smoky, forgotten. There were no windows, and mouldy wallpaper clung to the walls. There was a bar and a telly; the jukebox in the corner was too abused to play properly.
He found his mum at a small table in the back. She was framed by cigarette smoke and dull piss-coloured light. It was still early in the morning, and most of the patrons had been there all night. He had no idea how long his mum had been there.
"Eileen," Severus growled. He hadn't called her mum in ages.
She looked up at him, her gaze vacant, empty. Her black hair was greasy, dishevelled. Her face was so very pale, like a ghost, like vapour, like something mere seconds away from disappearing.
She had lost something when his father died, which Severus didn't understand. His father had been a tyrant; he'd been the biggest pillock in history. But somehow his mum had loved him.
"My boy," she murmured. There was another empty bottle of wine next to her and her glass contained red dregs.
Severus sat down next to her. "You're drunk," he said stiffly.
"No," she slurred, then closed her eyes. "Yes."
"You need to go home."
"Why?"
"What do you mean why? I woke up and you weren't there."
She opened her eyes, and they were dark, so dark. "There's nothing there for me. Your father is gone, and you don't need me. There's nothing."
He had to look away from her. "Yes, well," he began, but then his throat closed up. She was right - he didn't need her; he didn't need anyone.
Cold fingers touched his cheek. He put his head down, staring at the old table. There were knife marks in the battered wood.
"I wish you would talk to me," she said, her fingers now gone.
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Sure there is."
"No," he said, voice trembling slightly. He was angry, so angry. He wished he could talk to her as well, but it was impossible. He wanted to tell her about Lupin and Lily, about all the things that twisted him up on the inside. Maybe she would understand the want; maybe she would understand the desperation. But it was useless. Talking about anything was useless.
"Severus," she said softly.
"He's gone, Eileen."
His mum sucked in a breath. "Don't you care even a little?"
"Why should I? He hurt you."
"Maybe I deserved it." Her voice was barely more than a breath.
"You didn't."
"I lied to him, you know. He didn't know about me before we married."
"That doesn't mean you deserved to be hit. Christ, Eileen, the way he treated you - the way he treated me."
"You were never very nice to him."
Severus looked at his mum then, glaring at her. "Are you saying I deserved it all, even though I was only a child, even though you were my mum and you never -"
"Everyone makes mistakes, Severus. One day you will understand that. One day you will do something that can't be undone, and then you will have to live with the consequences."
Severus stood and took her roughly by the shoulders. "Get up now," he said. "It's time to put all this behind us."
"No," she said sharply.
"Eileen," he said, voice louder than he intended. "Stop being a fool and get up. Let's go home."
She clawed at his hands, fighting him. People were staring, so he released her. They were both breathing hard. They were both fighting back tears.
"Leave me," she whispered.
"If you don't come with me now," he said, eyes stinging, "I won't be at home when you come back. I will be gone, and I won't be coming back."
She shook her head. "Leave me," she whispered again.
Mum, please, he wanted to say, but he refused to beg her. Instead he said, "Fine, Eileen. Enjoy your booze."
He headed for the door, half expecting her to call him back, but he heard only the low buzz of the telly behind him. His mouth thinned and his gaze hardened. He shoved open the door, and the hinges cried out. He meant to escape the darkness of the pub, but outside the sky had turned dark.