"With all I am

I stand alone

In fields that I have grown

But if there's nothing left to hold

Let the angels take a soul

Sick I am

Of fighting alone

The blood I taste, my own

So if there's nothing left to hold

Let the angels take a soul

The angels take a soul."

~Angels Take a Soul by Fuel

Severus Snape wasn't a religious man. He didn't believe in an after life and if there was one it surly wouldn't welcome him with open arms after all he has done. He wasn't actually sure if he had done anything remotely good in his life. Sure there were all those times that he had helped a bunch of dunderheads with the daunting task of keeping The-Boy-Who-Lived alive. (Although why this was such a hard task for people he would never understand. He rarely had trouble with it unless Potter himself interfered and made a mess of things, as bloody usual.) But there was a great deal more that outweighed those few menial chores.

He had had to murdered children, wives, husbands, sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, and even grandparents.

He had had to torture innocent people for the Dark Lord's amusement.

He had had to rape people.

And worst of all he had had to betray his best friend.

No matter what came after his death it was going to be horrible. Now he just had to pick the lesser of two evils: the fiery pits of hell, the Egyptian hall of balance where his heart would be weighed by Anubis, the underworld where he would be forced to live a punishment designed to target the darkness in him specifically, or an empty void where he would be forced to live out his death in self-hatred.

Such a hard choice.

So when he was attacked by a large venomous snake, Severus Snape began to contemplate his life once again. Of course he didn't get very far before the bane of his existence showed up once more. He just wanted to die in peace and forget this humiliation. Was that too much to ask? Then again what right did he have to ask? He had failed at life, at being a mentor, at being a teacher, at being a godfather, heck at being a human being.

He was so tired. Tired of everything. Of being alone, of fighting, of living-

"Professor?" Hmph. It was Granger this time.

"Po-potter?" He cursed the stutter. It was weak and he was anything but.

"He'll be safe. The Dark Lord has called a cease fire for the next two hours to allow us to mourn for our dead and to hand Harry over." The chit liked to hear her own voice. "I hope you don't mind too terribly but I've decided that I'm going to stay with you." Severus groaned, the sound morphing into a cough.

"Damnit I wish there was more I could do!" He chuckled at the girl's cursing. He knew he was dying, she knew he was dying. Maybe if he insulted her she would kill him off quicker.

"T-there is-s nothi-ing b-but wha-at a fool woul-dd do." He could taste blood in his mouth know. It was weird. Slightly salty, a hint of copper, but mostly it just tasted dark. It tasted like the tattoo on his arm felt. Iconic almost. He had become what he was, what he had thought he would become.

"Then I will be a fool!" She was crying. No one had ever cried for him before. (He wasn't going to count the fact that Draco had cried at the young age of two for him.) It was...pleasing to know that someone cared enough for him to cry. "Just hold on please!"

She conjured candles.

Of all things that she could've done she conjured bloody candles.

Within moments they were all lit and floating in the air around him. Another wave of her wand and the blood and filth surrounding and cloaking him was gone. A crate was transfigured into a bed and he was settled into it. The windows surrounding him was illusioned to look like a quiet forest. It was all rather nice really, relaxing. Not that he would tell her that. And then she began to sing. It was soft and the lyrics were indistinguishable but it was a harmonious melody. He could die to this. He closed his eyes.

"Expecto Patronum." And suddenly the cold and dark that had taken root in his soul was gone and replaced with happy images. The first time he held his wand, his first potions class, shopping with his mother and Lily, his first kiss. And it was with these images that he let out his last breath and settled back into his pillows. He could faintly hear the sounds of sobbing as the world around him blurred and became black-white no red no blue no yellow no green no orange no purple no-and then suddenly he was pulled into a hug.

"Oh Sev. Welcome home."