g: I simply couldn't have them hold out much longer, because that would be cruel. Thank you for the review

Dessi Marie: (faints). Thank you so much.

CarlyJo: I'm celebrating too. It's just a shame it took him so long to figure out what he really wanted, and yes he's stubborn as all hell, but if he wasn't, he wouldn't be Severus. Thanks for the review

rejazzz: Yay, he admitted it!

Brown eyed Girl 75: I know it takes you a while to get into it, but I'm very very flattered that you love this story so much. Thank you for all your help with this chapter. I couldn't have done it without you.

Fieken: Thank you, and it's always lovely to see a new reviewer.

ooOoo

Was it life I betrayed for the shape that I'm in? It's so hard to fail, it's not easy to win. Did I drink too much, could I disappear? And there's nothing that's left but wasted years.

Wasted Years- Cold

ooOoo

Even at nineteen years old, Neil Lansdell had a lot of regrets. Regret at being the one to split his parents apart, regret at choosing to skate instead of play hockey (which had led to him becoming a frequent target of bullying and beat-downs, as he called them), but there was nothing he would regret more in his entire life than meeting Allison McCormack.

Sure, at nine years old, one could hardly say no when offered the chance to skate with someone as cute and charming as she had been. Even at the age of seven he could tell she was a sweet little thing. He'd said yes right away.

Fast forward ten years, and he could barely stand the sight of her. That's right, the entire thing was her fault! If she had been normal, and never left for that sodding school in Scotland…

Nothing would have changed and he would've gotten his happily ever after.

"God, I need a drink!" he whispered to himself, stepping into the nearest pub.

Walking up to the bar, he sat down.

"You're a little young to be in here, ain't you?"

Neil pulled out his wallet. "I'm old enough…" he mumbled.

"Old enough…" the bartender snorted. "Sure you are."

"You don't get paid to ask my age."

"Yeah I do, Blondie. And you ain't getting anything offa me. Now, I's guessing you're drunk already. And I don't like that. I don't care if you's been in here before, you're going out now. Bye bye…"

Glaring, Neil got off the bar stool and wandered out into the street.

It was going to be a long night

ooOoo

Upon arriving home from Spinner's End, Allison had rummaged through the fridge and realized she had run out of milk. Yes, she was one of those people who had to have milk in the house, if for no other reason than to have it. Grabbing her jacket and hopping on to her bike, she rode to the nearest corner store. Well, corner store involved a trip downtown, the stuff in the shops any closer to her home just weren't great quality.

For reasons she couldn't understand, she'd taken a detour downtown to get home. Reaching the pub district, she noticed someone staggering about outside. Wait a minute, he was blond, tall, he looked like…

Neil?

Getting off her bike, she leaned it against the wall of the pub and went to him.

"Neil? Is that you?"

As though recognizing her voice, he looked over and locked eyes with her.

"Allie?" he slurred.

"Yes, Neil, it's me…" she whispered, reaching out to him.

"Allie, I…" he stumbled and gripped her by the arms.

"What is it? What do you need?"

And that's when she heard a deafening CRACK and Neil went limp. Collapsing against her, the sheer force of his body nearly knocked her to the ground.

"Oh no…" She could feel the blood seeping through his shirt. "No, no… don't do this!" There were tears in her eyes. "Help!" she shouted, out of options. "Someone call an ambulance, he's been shot!"

Setting herself on the ground, Allison cradled his head in her hands. "Come on Neil, hold on. I'm here. You're going to be okay…"

"Allie…" he gurgled, blood shining on his lips, his face going paler by the minute.

"Shh… don't talk, Neil. Help is coming," she reassured him. "Damn it, where the hell is that ambulance?" she shouted.

"On the way, sweetheart!" a disembodied voice called back through the crowd beginning to form. "What's his name? They need to know his name!"

"Neil…" she answered. "His name is Neil Lansdell!"

"And what's yours, honey?"

"Allison!"

Neil's hand tugged at her shirt. "I…I…"

"No, no…" she hushed him. "No, don't talk. Fight… come on, sweetheart, fight…"

"I…" he coughed, spilling blood down his chin. "I… sorry…"

It was then that his eyes rolled back and closed. He took his last breath with Allison's hand over his heart.

It seemed like a lifetime between Neil dying and the ambulance arriving. So much so that, by the time they were ready to take him, she wouldn't let him go. He was her best friend, no matter what he'd done. She forgave him; she forgave him everything, just as long as she could tell him that one last time.

"Let me hold him," she cried to Joan, a paramedic who'd introduced herself in the middle of the mess. She'd showed compassion.

"We have to take him soon…"

"No yet," she cried. "Please, not yet…"

"Five minutes, sweetheart…" Joan ran a gloved hand over Allison's hair. "Can I call anyone for you?"

"He'll be here soon," she answered.

"Who will?"

"Severus will," she insisted. "He'll be here soon."

Sure enough, Severus appeared less than three minutes later. Extrasensory perception could not count for something like that. Wizard or not, he had have known something was wrong when she hadn't shown up at home again. He'd been at her apartment helping her get things in order again. Not having much in the way of furniture or cleaning supplies, nor food, she'd told him she'd be back in less than half an hour. It'd been over an hour, he'd probably have known something wasn't right.

Joan had introduced herself to him and let him sit with Allison. The crowd had dispersed, leaving the ambulance, the police, and Allison alone.

"Allison, it's Severus…" he told her.

"I couldn't save him…" she whimpered. "I tried, I couldn't…"

"I know," he whispered. "You did everything right. Let them take him…"

"No! He's mine!" she shouted, tightening her hold on him.

Severus put an arm around Allison's shoulder and kissed her temple. "Yes I know he's yours, but he needs to go home," he reasoned as simplistically as he could. "Give him to Joan, Allison. He needs to go with Joan."

Something clicked, and Allison released him. Joan and another paramedic picked him up and loaded him on to a stretcher.

"Please take care of him…" she sobbed. "Please?"

"Of course, darling," Joan gave her a small smile. "Of course we will."

She watched almost aimlessly as Neil's lifeless body was loaded into the ambulance and driven away. They'd gotten everything they needed from her before, and now he was gone.

Nothing seemed right anymore. Getting up, she grabbed her bike still leaning against the wall, and proceeded to walk home. Everything seemed to be buzzing in her ears, people seemed to be running by her instead of walking or driving… she couldn't hear anything except for that deafening crack.

Getting home, she still couldn't hear anything. Turning her key in the lock, she threw them into the dish sitting on the entrance table, and made her way into the kitchen.

She didn't even hear the knock at the door, nor the spell whispered to gain entrance. Frankly, it just didn't matter anymore.

ooOoo

Severus stood in the doorway watching Allison scurry around the kitchen, opening doors and cabinets, but doing nothing but stare into them for a few seconds before closing them again.

She'd pick up a plate from the drying rack and run over it with a cloth, before replacing it. Finally, she smoothed out the washcloth to allow it to dry, and just stood against the sink, unmoving.

Slowly, he approached her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She jumped, nearly reaching around to slap him.

"Oh…" she breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God it's you."

"I came to see if there was anything you needed."

She shook her head. "No, I… I'm alright…" she answered. "Shit, I was supposed to do something but I forget what it is, I think it was… damn it, it's in the laundry room!"

"Allison," Severus blocked the doorway and caught her before she got very far. "You don't have a laundry room. That's downstairs."

Taking a deep breath, she moved back into the kitchen, fumbling with the washcloth she had just laid out.

"Can we bring him back?" she asked, desperate for an answer. "Is there any way to bring him back?"

He shook his head. "No," was the simplest thing to say. "You know as well as I do, Allison, no spell can reawaken the dead."

It was then that she threw herself at him, her shoulder slamming into his chest.

"Then what's the fucking point of you?" she shouted, grief running through her voice. "He wasn't supposed to die, and it's my fault, Severus fucking Snape! We need to bring him back!"

"Allison, Allison," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "I'm sorry. It's all we can do. I'm sorry…"

"It's my fault!" she sobbed against his shoulder. "I couldn't save him. It's all my fault!"

He kissed the top of her head, deciding it was better to say nothing than to inflame the situation.

Not more than half an hour later, he found himself sitting on the kitchen floor, leaning against the sink cupboards. She was exhausted, eventually falling asleep with her head in his lap.

Stroking her hair as she slept, it was all he could think about. What had happened, and why she thought she could bring him back. But, there was nothing they could do. The only plausible thing would be to accept it.

Accept the things we cannot change, and move on.

Easier said than done, he mused.

Easier said than done.