A/N: Dean helps Seamus. Not Deamus.
Submission for:
Team Competition: Round 2 - Seamus Finnegan. "H-How long have you been standing there?"
Race through Hogwarts: 'color', "You Found Me" by The Fray
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Seamus exhaled with a shuddering breath as the amber liquid burned his throat. Around him, recently drunken bottles lay on their side, some not even completely empty as they spilled the remainder beneath his feet. But he didn't care. He hardly felt the stickiness of the floor as his lung ached, hardly heard the bottles knock against each other over the screams in his ears, hardly saw their outline in the dim light as another haunting image flashed through his mind.
Blood. So much blood. She was limp in his arms, her eyes staring into his but he knew she couldn't see him. She wouldn't be so still and calm if she could see the tears streaming down his face. She wouldn't just lay there with the gaping hole in her neck.
Another swig to drown the demons within him. Another swallow to chase them away and to blur the images and distort the sounds in his mind.
Her laugh as they sat beneath the first clear day of the new year. Her smile as they held hands beneath the overhang of the courtyard. Her blue eyes which seemed to see straight into him.
Her screams, which he heard above all sounds, as she fell at the monster's hands, then the odd gurgling noise which followed as she began to choke on her own blood.
He downed the bottle this time, falling forward onto the ground as his head spun. He almost succeeded in ridding himself of the thoughts for good, but no, it wasn't enough. He could still see red, the color staining his hands, still feel the warm, stickiness on his skin.
He looked at his unfocused hands and chest. No, it wasn't blood. Most of the alcohol had actually spilt down chin and neck. But why did it have to feel so similar?
"Seamus," someone said in the darkness. There was only one person who could get into his flat unnoticed, one person who would look for him any way. He had no more family, and most of his friends had deemed him a lost cause, but he had remained.
"H-How long have you been standing there?" he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.
"Long enough," Dean said, stepping into the dark room. "You have to stop this, Seamus. You can't keep doing this to yourself."
"It's the only thing that helps," Seamus said. "It's the only thing that keeps her away." He reached around him for a fresh bottle, but was stopped by a hand on his.
"No, I can help you," Dean said, moving the bottles away from his body, "if you'll only let me. I don't like seeing you like this."
Seamus stared forward as he whispered, "I don't like seeing me like this either."
Dean reached under Seamus' arms and pulled the drunkard to his feet. "Come, let's get you washed up."
As they left the room, Seamus leaned over and said, "Thank you."
"What are friends for," Dean replied as he closed the door behind him.