Written in a spur of a moment, without any beta-work and with a pairing I don't usually read or write.
Snape's point of view, placed on the Marauders-era, perhaps on their fifth, sixth or seventh year.
He is Sirius Black. (Remember, only he-word. Not all of the italic text. Rest of them is present.)
Losing It All
He still remembered all of those moments. Every single thing that had changed him to worse, carved his soul out and shaped him into that empty shell.
He used to be a cheerful boy.
He used to have a lot of friends.
He used to smile.
Memories surrounded him, billowed into his head. There was no escape from them.
Small boy, barely four years old, curled under the blanket, wishing it was an invisibility cloak so he could hide under it and run. Away from home. Away from his parents. Away from all the yelling and hitting and drunken cursing.
Slightly older boy, eight years old, under that same blanket again. But this time he knew it wouldn't hide him. He couldn't run away. It was just a childish dream, which had long ago shattered. His dad would still find him. Just like he had found his mother couple minutes before. Her sobs could still be heard from the kitchen.
Nine years old, walking on the street and trying to tune out all the whispers. He was 'that Snape kid'.
Bad. Ugly. Stupid.
Just like his father.
Younger kids avoided him, older kids spat on him. Adults barely even acknowledged his tiny frame. Occasionally someone would make a snide remark from his too big jacket.
But he couldn't take it off. It was hiding his bruises.
Ten years old, seeing that young red-haired girl. She had just moved in, around the corner. He was thrilled to find out that she was a witch. And a nice one too. Always laughing. Just like he used to.
And there was that flicker of hope inside his heart.
Maybe they could be friends?
Maybe they could go to school together?
Maybe they could get more friends, together?
Maybe he wouldn't have to be that freakish poor boy anymore?
Maybe she could teach him how to be happy?
Eleven years old, losing that flicker of hope. He was still that weird kid at school. Even in his own House, despite the fact that they were all dark and twisted too, rotten from the inside. But at least he still got the girl who was always defending, supporting, being a friend. It didn't matter that they didn't have any classes together. They could still be friends. At least that's what he told himself.
Fifteen years old, feeling his heart being stamped onto the ground. He had noticed how that Potter-boy was watching her. And how she was watching him back. How they were flirting with their eyes.
And he knew she wouldn't defend him that much longer.
All those memories had worn him out. It was too much for him to handle.
And he was frustrated. Because as painful as it was to remember those times of his life, he knew it was going to get worse. Much worse. And yet again, he was sucked into his own memories.
They were at the abandoned classroom. Both had sneaked out at the same time, and then crashed into each other. By accident, of course.
It had started from such a small thing. He had just stood there, smirking. Severus knew he was going to turn them both in, just to get him into trouble.
And he was so jealous, that the other boy could be so carefree, when he was so unhappy. He just wanted to wipe that stupid smile away. He wanted to win. Just for once in his life.
So it had begun. Small teasing turned into huge fight. Severus still remembered everything.
His eyes. Light grey. Blazing with anger.
His mouth. Turned into a big black hole. Spitting insults. Hurtful words.
His hands. Squeezed into tight fists. White knuckles. Shaking with repressed rage.
The swift movement of his left arm. The shock when it hit him on the nose. The cracking sound when it broke.
The way he had held him up against the wall, other hand on his throat, the other one still beating his body, making more bruises on it.
He still remembered how the hits had started to slow down, just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore.
He remembered how those same hands had opened, fists turned into palms, caressing his bruised ribs. Shoulders. Arms. Stomach. Thighs.
How his eyes were still burning, but this time with something else than anger. There was more in them. Want. Need. Lust.
How his face was so close that he could feel the other boys hot breath on his cheek.
And how their lips had crashed together, the sweetness of his mouth. They both wanted it to hurt, make the other one scream in pain. But it felt so good. Too good. Bittersweet.
He remembered how his hands were still shaking when he unclasped their belts. Unbuttoned their shirts.
The feeling of his tongue on his bare skin.
The pressure when he pushed inside him.
The hotness when they both came shuddering, he inside him.
It was raw.
It was tender.
It was perfect.
And so Severus Snape had fallen in love.
"""
He laughed when he heard the news.
It started with an unbelieving chuckle, turned into low snickers and then finally he was laughing hysterically, clutching his stomach, water flowing from his eyes.
He couldn't stop it, not even when the nurse slapped him. But no, he was still laughing.
It was so un-funny that it was funny.
It took one hour, thirty-two minutes and sixteen seconds for him to stop. And after that one last smirk, he was finally done.
People had gathered around him, the nurse had apparently called them. Every single one of them was staring at him with gloomy faces.
They told him that it wasn't unheard in wizarding world, but it wasn't common either.
They told him they couldn't just 'make it disappear' like he had suggested. He would need his parent's permission for that.
They told him that this hadn't happened in Hogwarts for two thousand years. Not for a girl, and especially not for a boy.
Sometimes life just pours all the shit on your neck. And when that happens, you keep your mouth shut and laugh.
Another chuckle escaped his lips.
And so Severus Snape was pregnant.
"""
It was freezing cold. The snowflakes were falling slowly from the sky and then gracefully landing on the ground. It was the coldest day of the winter. And it was too cold to be outside, especially in the middle of the night.
But they were still there, two teenage boys, staring at each other, challenging the other one to speak first.
He told about those weird symptoms he had been having couple months.
He told about the shock, how unexpected it was.
And finally, he told about the new life growing inside of him.
There was a small pause, a moment of silence.
It was almost like the time had frozen. And perhaps it was?
And he could see the shock on his face, the disbelief in the deepness of his eyes.
He could still hear those words. Those ugly, hurtful words, which would ring in his ears for the rest of his life.
Liar.
You're a liar.
You're a pathetic, meaningless liar.
And a whore.
And so Severus Snape was a single father-to-be.
"""
He could feel his magic trying to break free. It was boiling in his veins, draining the blood from his face, turning it even paler.
He knew it was a mistake to come outside. But it was such a nice day and he was desperate to feel the sun on his skin, wind on his hair. He hadn't felt it for two months. Not since the bump had started to show.
He was regretting his choice.
It was safe inside.
But not here.
Small kick on his abdomen remembered him not to loose his temper. There was no way he could defend himself against all of those people alone. Another kick, this time it was for comfort. He was sure of it.
Tiny smile planted itself on his lips. He was calm and happy now.
But those Gryffindors still kept teasing, barking their mouths, trying to hurt him even more.
Greasy Git.
Snivellus.
Freak.
Poof.
Whore.
Cold laugh bolted around the yard.
He was desperate for someone to take care of him.
Red-haired witch wouldn't help him. They weren't friends anymore.
Slytherins didn't care. He was too worthless for their attention.
There were no teachers around. They had a meeting inside.
They kept taunting, Gryffindor, Rawenclaw, Hufflepuff, all of them. Led by James Potter and his crew.
He was too powerless to stand up against them. And he couldn't run. He wouldn't.
So he just stayed there, waiting for them to get tired and leave.
And then he saw his eyes. Still light grey, desperately trying to stay blank. He hadn't said a word. Not after that last time in winter.
And he could see that small moment of hesitation, that tiny movement of his feet, like they were having their own life. Maybe they would take charge and march right next to him.
But they both knew he wouldn't. They both knew he would stay right there, staring the scene next to his friends. Laughing coldly. Hating. Both of them.
Their eye-contact lasted about ten secons. Then he turned around on his heels and left, unnoticed by everyone else.
And so Severus Snape had a broken heart.
"""
He could still feel it. Hear it. Taste it. Smell it.
Pain. Screaming. Blood. Death.
It was probably a trip-jinx or something like that. A bad timing and aiming, that student would explain later. He would get off the hook and then later brag his friends about it.
And Severus Snape laid on the hospital bed and tried to remember how to breathe.
Tears prickled on his eyes but he wouldn't cry. Couldn't cry.
This had been his last change to live happily ever after.
His last change to live at all.
Now he would be just a shell.
Nothing more.
And so Severus Snape had lost his smile.
And he would never get it back.
That was it. I appreciate feedback.