To save the life of the woman he loved,

That man sacrificed his own life.

To save the life of the woman I love,

I sacrifice the lives of others.

Living Will

I used to despise the way things were. Back then, I thought the worst thing that could happen was living with her hatred, or worse, her indifference. But I was wrong.

This is much, much worse.

The man I hated, the man she married, has traded his life for a place in her heart which she will never forsake. By sacrificing himself, he has achieved in death what he never could in life.

I never thought I could hate him more.

"Sev?"

Lily is looking up at me now, eager to share her agony. She slides her hands over my arms, her thumb brushes over my Mark and sends a thrill through my body that makes me feel even more wretched then I already do. Even looking as broken and innocent as she does, I know very well she's doing this on purpose. She knows very well the part I played—the prophecy—and now…

She's lying on the floor, her blood red hair flowing around her head like a wound, her arms spread out as if in surrender, and her green eyes staring up at the ceiling. Nothing good can come from this, I know.

"Don't leave me," she says, and I won't. I will do anything she asks of me.

But I don't want this.

Yesterday's requiem is still echoing inside us both. She's crying now, her eyes overflowing while she replays the murders over and over inside her head, pouring from her mind into mine like poison. Father and Son. And I think, this is what madness looks like. There is nothing here worth saving. Absolutely. Nothing. Our very existence has become a grotesque comedy.

And yet.

There's a voice inside me that hisses, you deserve this. You did this. You killed them both. Lily is too close now, curling her arms around my waist, her eyes directly before mine. Her mind linked to mine. She's remembering him. Remembering the way he would laugh so easily, the way he would wrap his arms around her and kiss her deeply.

Murderer

I know I could push her away, break the eye contact, break the spell—but I don't. Her pain is my pain now, and this is our hell.

The night fades into dawn and sometime during the night we fall asleep, our nightmares mingling like black ink swirling into water. When the morning arrives, I know it will not end. There is a part of me that wonders if it would have been better for her to die with her husband and son. At least then, she would be at peace.

She's like a ghost now. When I touch her, I feel my fingers brushing against her arm, but it's all a lie. There's nothing inside this body that still lives.

The voice inside is telling me that she's better off dead. We both are.

But that would be too easy.

I asked for this.

I asked him to spare her and he did.

Now, he's gone and the Mark no longer burns. Two people are dead. Father and Son, but she still lives.

"Stay with me," she says. Burn with me. Suffer with me.

"Always, Lily," I reply, stroking her hair. In saying those words, I know that I will never leave this house again. Lily cannot face the world outside these walls and I will not leave her. I don't know how long we will survive like this. It will be slow. It will be painful. And soon, the madness will consume us both. But I asked for this. I went on my knees before the Dark Lord and begged for this.

So, yes, Lily. I will stay with you. I will live with you. I will die with you. Whatever you choose.

Degrade me.

Even though I am unworthy of absolution-

Punish me.

Just let me stay like this for a little bit longer.

Hurt me.

Since this is all I will ever have-

Kill me.

With your pain-

"Promise me?"

Just for a little longer.

"I promise."

A/N:

This story is a response to the question, "What would happen if Severus got exactly what he wished for and Voldemort spared Lily and no one else?"

Well, dear readers, what do you think would really happen?

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter.