Disclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape or Lily Evans (JK Rowling does).
A/N: I am a Pirates of the Caribbean writer. I don't write Harry Potter. I don't like Severus Snape. I don't know why I wrote this. I didn't want to, but it attacked me last night and wouldn't leave me alone. It's not even very good, Snape's completely wrong, it doesn't flow right and Lily calls him Sev too much. And it doesn't have any sex, which makes me wonder why I wrote it at all. But it demanded to be written and now demands to be posted, so I wrote and posted and now I will get back to the good ship Sparrabeth.
Always
Severus Snape was dying. Oddly enough, he didn't seem to mind. He was almost looking forward to it, really; after all, it couldn't possibly be worse than what he was leaving behind. He had done everything Dumbledore asked of him. He didn't think Lily would be disappointed in him. Perhaps she would even forgive him, although he knew that was too much to hope for.
Lily.
He wished he had the strength to find that photograph, tucked somewhere in his robes, near his heart. He wanted to look at her one last time, so that the last image imprinted in his mind would be her smiling face, but he couldn't feel his arms and everything seemed so far away…If he couldn't see her smile, he could at least see her eyes, if he could just find it in him to speak…
"Look…at…me..." he whispered.
Yes, there they were, those bright, green, vibrant eyes he knew better than his own. So full of life, of warmth, of her. He stared into them for the last few beats of his heart, until everything else faded, and then, finally, they too blurred and dimmed and his world went black.
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Severus Snape was leaning against a tree. How odd. He never went into forests if he could help it, the green was too painful…
"Sev?" said a voice. "Sev, wake up." It was a very familiar voice. Where had he…Ah. He must be dreaming. He'd had dreams like this before. It was only a matter of time before something horrible happened and she died in front of his eyes while he watched, unable to save her.
"What's happened this time, I wonder," he muttered, opening his eyes. "And where are we?"
A pair of vivid green eyes came into focus, dancing with amusement. He blinked a few times, and Lily Evans appeared, his Lily Evans, not Potter's, Lily from his school days, Lily who still belonged somewhat to him and what they had shared. Her long red hair fell over her shoulders and a grin of delighted mischief curved her lips.
"You've died," she said. He blinked again.
"No I have—" He stopped, memory returning in the form of a snake and a wand and a set of poisoned fangs buried in his neck.
"And this is heaven," she continued as though he had not spoken.
"No it isn't," he said, this time with certainty. "Sooner or later, something is going to happen and you'll die and I won't be able to stop it. And it will probably happen over and over."
Lily shook her head in exasperated affection.
"Ever the pessimist, aren't you? Sev, look around. This is the place we used to come when we were kids, the only place you ever felt safe. Do you honestly think anything bad could happen here?"
"This isn't heaven," he said again, bitterly. "I don't deserve heaven."
"Sev—"
"Oh, God, Lily, I am so sorry," he burst out, unable to contain his anguish any longer, not here, not in front of her. "I'm sorry that I—I never meant—I tried everything I could think of and—and—" His voice broke and he stared hard at the ground, unwilling to look in her face and see horror there, or worse, pity.
"Listen to me," she said, her voice firm, impatient. "You did everything in your power to help us, and you've spent most of your life walking the most dangerous line that ever existed, all for the sake of the son of a man you hated, people who reviled you all your life and payment of debts that were repaid long ago. That is something only the best and bravest of men could ever do."
"I didn't do it for them," he said, raising his eyes to hers. Her expression softened.
"I know, Sev, I understand—"
"No. You don't. You don't know, you don't understand. I did it for—for—oh, hells" he snarled, and groped for his wand—were there wands in heaven? he wondered briefly. His fingers met familiar wood. Apparently so—and with a whisper of a thought, a silver doe shot out and galloped across the clearing.
Still?
Always.
The doe turned and regarded them with liquid silver eyes. He watched it with grim satisfaction. There. Now she knew. Now the world could know. He didn't care anymore.
"Oh, Sev," she whispered. "I do understand. But you never said. I never knew."
"Didn't I, though?" he said, softly. "Every day since we met? Every word I spoke to you? Every time I looked at you?"
"You never said. And I had a hard enough time reading your expressions before you stopped having them altogether. Why, Sev? Why didn't you just tell me?"
"I…" He shrugged. "Cowardice, I suppose."
She gave him a look.
"Fine. Self-defense, then. It seemed better to keep what friendship we had than to alienate you completely. But I did anyway, didn't I?" He looked down at the ground. "You were the first friend I had, you know. The only friend, I think. It never would have happened anyway, not someone like me, not with someone like you. I knew I had no chance."
"Didn't you, though?" she asked. He froze, a painful, tiny flame of hope sparking in his heart. He looked up into her eyes, so full of warmth, of life, of love.
For him.
Her touch on his cheek was like the brush of a butterfly wing, but her lips as they met his were warm and soft and full of want and very, very human. Her hands fluttered and came to rest like birds on his shoulders. He pulled her close, never wanting to let go, not quite believing this was real, never thinking he could get enough.
The kiss ended and she pulled back a little, cupping his face in her hands.
"Lily…" he whispered.
"I love you," she said. "Always."
Severus Snape was in heaven.