CHAPTER 4

John was having a bad day.

"John! Get down here and talk to me!" a muffled feminine voice bellowed. The Texan accent was heavy in Dr. Smith's voice, and it could be heard clearly through several inches of wood and cement. It could only mean one thing. She was getting seriously concerned.

"Where does she even get these ideas...?" John grumbled.

Scratch that. He was having a very bad day.

Late morning sunlight bathed John's bedroom, its bright intensity accentuating the disorder it was currently in – the floor strewn with various pieces of clothing, the bed crumpled with the sheets forgotten on the floor, and the figure atop who was groaning from a lack of sleep because of the thoughts frantically running through his head and the overall situation he found himself in. His mother was not helping matters either for as soon as the resident doctor came home late last night, it was like the Spanish Inquisition arrived with deadly swords and bayonets. Though maybe John was to be blamed as well for he chose the coward's way for he did not leave his room since the questions started.

A loud growling sound could be heard in the room. John groaned and sat up in bed, reaching for his glasses and putting it on as he did so. He could not be bothered to wear contacts so early in the morning. Leaving the bed, he pulled on a pair of loose trousers that was lying on the floor and put it on, raking a hand through his nest of a hair as he contemplated what to do. Dr. Smith, or mom as he called him in their home, could not be evaded forever. On one hand, John was not ready to face the proverbial dragon in the face yet. On the other hand, John was extremely hungry, and to go out is to possibly meet a different type of dragon, or maybe snake will be more apt. There was nothing for it. He would have to improvise, and choose the lesser of two evils.

Checking his reflection in the mirror in passing - messy hair, crumpled jeans and shirt, geeky glasses and a thought of 'Eh.' - John approached the bay window near his bed and lifted the closure, stepping out on the fire escape stairs and in the harsh Texan sunlight.

"I need my caramel macchiato stat."

Armed with his morning coffee and bagel, John wandered the streets thinking of his next course of action. The feeling of 'something at work' was nagging on is mind relentlessly ever since his chance encounter with Snape. Walking aimlessly and going from street to street, John came to the conclusion that he would not come closer to solving the mystery of Snape's arrival in Texas with the way he kept overanalyzing the meager information he has and thinking in circles. With that thought in mind he stopped and made to turn to go to the hospital to confront the inopportune Potions Master when he finally registered his surroundings. He was already at the his destination.

'Huh. Seems like I'm still quicker on my feet than with my brain.' He chuckled weakly at the thought. He was already nervous at the prospect of conversing withhis former professor.

Pushing open the hospital's double glass doors, he waved absent-mindedly to the staff who greeted him as he made his way to the Emergency Room, his mind focused more on what he was going to say. Too soon to his liking, he was already facing the open doorway of his goal. With courage he did not feel, John set his face to a neutral expression in the off chance that his target was already awake, his purposeful strides eating up the distance quickly to the Snape's bed. It was a good thing that the ER was deserted of medical staff and other patients for John did not know if he could make it through the conversation with an audience. Merlin knows without one he would already have a hard time talking with the supposedly difficult man.

With equal amounts of trepidation and excitement, John swept the separation curtain aside. What he saw made him gasp.

He knew magical folks heal faster than muggles. He knew powerful wizards and witches heal even faster. But the state Snape was in was ridiculous.

He was fully healed with all the bandages and gauzes gone, the hospital gown he was supposed to be wearing replaced by, surpisingly, a grey pullover and blue jeans. The newly healed man was currenly sitting up, the pillows propped up behind his back and sipping tea while reading the muggle newspaper.

"Bloody hell...?" Words escaped John's lips before he can censor them. Snape immediately looked up. The man's face remained neutral as he drawled.

"Ah, Potter. I see you finally deemed it time to collect my person from this muggle establishment. My mental faculties are degrading every minute I respite with these overbearing healers."

Snape's usual apathetic words seemed to snap John into action. With a shake of his head, he approached the man until he stood directly in front of the bed. He was now more confused than ever. The man who spoke his name last night appeared to have been a figment of John's imagination.

'There's only one way to find out.'

John decided to get some answers.

"Why are you here?"

"Answers. Why did you leave?" Snape fired back.

"Because I couldn't take the Wizarding World's short-mindedness. How did you find me?"

"Magic. Is that the only motive for your immediate departure?" Snape looked like he was trying hard not to show amusement while John was trying hard not to shout at him. 'He's answering with one words! How unfair.'

"Isn't it enough reason to leave? Why were you injured?" At that Snape's face grew passive again, but his eyes were like what it they were the other night; emotions too fast for John to understand, though he could not read his face. 'It's like Hogwarts all over again.' The black eyes settled on emptiness as the man briskly shut the newspaper he was holding and made to leave the bed, snapping at John.

"Reasons. I refuse to participate in this silly questioning game any longer. Let us adjourn. I am tired."

John was about to protest that he was not the man's keeper and that he could not get Snape out without alerting the staff, when footsteps resounded through the door and a voice piped up, familiar and feared - for both men.

"And what do you think you're doing, Mr. Snape? Just because I proclaimed you healed does not mean you are to leave this hospital - meaning this room, without aid! And John dear, come here."

"Bloody healer. Even worse than Poppy in her menstrual cycle." Snape grumbled beneath his breath. John could have laughed in the misery he heard in the silky tones if not for the fact that he was to face the end of his happiness. He could never outright lie to her, and truth be told, John was tired of omissions. Also, this could very well be the last time he can talk to her if Snape's mission is to bring him back. Better come clean to the person who only gave him love and affection. Steeling his features, he approached his mother.

He cleared his throat, both to announce his presence and to remove the annoying lump that seemed to have taken residence in his windpipe.

"Yes?"

Dr. Smith looked at him straight in the eyes piercingly, a weird cunning gleam in her grey eyes as she regarded him. If John was not sure Dr. Smith was a muggle he could have sworn the woman was practicing Legilimency on him.

"Who is he?" She shot out.

"His name is Severus Snape." He answered, his voice inflectionless.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me. I already knew that. Give me some more information! When he woke last night he looked at you like you were his long lost lover. That merits not only his name, but your history together." Dr. Smith put crossed her arms infront of her chest, the gleam in her eyes intesifying as her voice became curious and excited. It was rare that John divulged information about his past for she does not mostly press him to tell her about it, letting him decided when and what to say. Now it seemed, was not one of those moments though. John chose to shut his mouth. He could still delay the inevitable, right?

Dr. Smith's expression did not change.

After ten minutes of silence, John finally cracked. He sighed in resignation.

'Weird though, that we thought of the same exact words to describe the look he gave me.'

He cleared his throat again and looked at her in the eyes as he spoke, his voice measured and careful.

"Severus Snape was my teacher in the school I attended in my younger years. He not only thought me academic subjects, but also about the way of life for, as you know, I was an orphan cared for by my neglectful relatives, and those people did not see fit to teach me the basics." He paused. He was still telling the partial truth. Habit? He made to tell more, and the truth this time, when another voice joined their conversation, the deep baritone warm and lightly curious.

'What? Warm and curious?'

"Excuse me, Dr. Smith, but I cannot help but overhear you two conversing about me. Am I that suspicious of a person?"

'Is that Severus Snape teasing?' John was reduced to flapping his mouth open and making side comments in his head.

"Oh no, dear. I was just asking if your history together was good, for I was about to break to John that you are to be staying at our house. I couldn't very well leave you here in the hospital when you've already recovered, no matter how fast that healing took. From what I hear from my son, you seem to have been a good influence on him. You do seem to have so much in common, the speedy recovery, the British accent though his is more Texan now..."

John did not hear his mother's words and Snape's calm replies to her anymore. His brain continued repeating only one thing:

Severus Snape would be staying at Texas, without a clear date of departure.

Staying.

With him.

'What have I gotten myself into?' John thought.

An update! Sorry I didn't post yesterday. I was so tired that I couldn't think straight anymore. I hope I made it up to you guys with this little something. Things are getting interesting! Reviews are welcome with open cyber-arms, though feedback and ideas are even better received. I'm open for suggestions! :D