ICLYLM chapter 23 "Before It's Too Late"



The rest of the morning past hour after interminable hour. Phoebe was so ill that, often, conversation was impossible. When she was feeling less sick she tended to doze off, which Jeffrey felt was a good thing. He'd have to ask Severus to brew a mild sleeping draught to extend her periods of rest.

A shuffle outside the door indicated that Dunderhead had likely roused himself to collect the lunch tray. He could have it, Jeffrey thought in disgust as he looked at the now empty tuna and peach tins.

The door opened and Jeffrey turned to face ...Severus. He almost smiled before remembering.

"You." he spat, feigning scorn.

"It's hardly a pleasure for me, I assure you," Snape hissed as the door shut behind him, "What do you need now, Healer?" Snape continued in a loud voice before moving away from the door toward the bed.

"Is she still unconscious?" He said softly

"No, she's asleep now," Jeffrey whispered quickly, "But listen, we've been talking and we've decided on a plan." Severus raised his eyebrow but said nothing. Jeffrey forged ahead, "We've decided to act as if I had drugged her to terminate the pregnancy against her will and that she's rather angry with me."

"Why?" Snape asked, incredulous.

"We're hoping that if they think she's still on their side it will increase our chances of escape. After all, if you both are still loyal death eaters it's merely a question of controlling me, isn't it?"

"I don't like it, Jeffrey," Snape said, "It only puts you in a more dangerous position and I don't like the place you stand now."

"Listen," Jeffrey said urgently, "We've got to think of something-"

"Of course we do," Snape interrupted.

"No, you don't understand! Phoebe told me she wants me to find a way to leave so she can die and kill the fetus with her."

Snape blanched visibly at these words. Jeffrey didn't have time to soothe him. He continued, "The fact is that she's not too far off now. She's fighting because she's figured they'll kill me if she dies. But she doesn't have a will of her own to live. Even if she did..."

"You can't save her without terminating can you?" Snape asked, tensely

"I don't think so." Jeffrey said grudgingly.

"And I'll be dammed if I let that monster get his claws on a child," Phoebe said, causing both wizards to jump sharply. She opened her eyes and regarded both men, appraisingly. Were they going to fight her on this?

"Phoebe," Snape began.

Yes they were. But Snape seemed unable to say more. After an awkward silence Jeffrey spoke, "I filled Severus in on our conversation, our plan."

"And I think it's a very poor idea. I can't endorse it," Snape said immediately.

"Why not?" Phoebe asked trying not to sound too irritated.

"Because if you convince them they'll likely just kill Jeffrey on the spot to prevent him killing the child and then find another healer." Snape whispered grimly.

Phoebe's eyes widened in horror, "We've already started, we had a good row for the benefit of Dunder- ah, the guard."

Snape frowned. "Well he is a bit of a Dunderhead, all we can do is stop the act right now and pray his stupidity favors us."

"Severus," Phoebe said with a hint of desperation that arrested the wizard's attention, "You've got to get yourself and Jeffrey out of here, you HAVE to. Promise me that you won't let me have- Promise you'll do it."

Snape frowned and Jeffrey looked at Phoebe appraisingly

"Promise we won't let you have what, Phoebe?" he asked gently.

Phoebe bit her lip but couldn't seem to speak. Jeffrey pondered for a moment. Was he above using his healer's gift even in this situation? No, he decided, he was not. He moved closer to Phoebe and put a hand on her shoulder sending a judicious stream of energy into her as he asked the question again. This time she answered.

"Killed you both as well, alright Jeffrey?" she spat miserably, "I need to know I won't have gotten you both killed, too."

Jeffrey looked from Phoebe to Severus. Her face was drawn with pain and lined in guilt. His was arrested, still. The dark eyes seemed even more fathomless than usual. If Jeffrey had not caught a slight tremor of Severus' hand he might not have known what to do.

He saw the hand tremble, however, and caught it in both of his own. Severus looked at him in surprise.

"You two must talk... now, before it's too late," Jeffrey said, squeezing Severus' hand and letting go. He then walked to the far opposite side of the room, picked up one of the books Severus had left and sat against the door with a meaningful look. Severus watched him open the book and bend over it intently, giving them as much privacy as he was able.

His eyes turned back to Phoebe who was studying the wall beside her and gripping the blanket so hard her knuckles were bone white. He didn't know what to do. He had never... he had no real experience just feeling the things he did, let alone trying to talk about them. He longed to comfort her somehow, but he didn't know how to do this either. He felt lost.

He sank heavily in the chair pulled close up to the bed and Phoebe turned sharply, her face betraying concern. As her eyes met his they grew bright with unshed tears. At this Severus felt the hollow despair that had been lurking within him explode to fill his chest. Before he could think his head sank down to the bed as he realized he, too, was fighting tears. Suddenly, however, he felt a new feeling displacing the despair. Anger. Hard, unyielding anger.

"Damn it all to hell!" he whispered hoarsely rasing his head to face a startled Phoebe, "Damn it no matter any of our mistakes this is not our fault. Not mine, not yours! The evil creature up stair and all his power hungry little sycophants caused this!"

Phoebe's face twisted and she looked at him with a desperate desire to believe him, to agree with him.

"Dammit, Phoebe," Severus said forcing himself to finally say the words they had both avoided, "Dammit, he raped you!" His fist came down hard on the blankets, seemingly of its own accord, "he raped you!"

Phoebe flinched hard when Severus' fist came down and her whole body had frozen, muscles clenched. Severus reached out instinctively and she flinched away from his touch. But the second flinch seemed to shake something free in the exhausted and frightened witch. Suddenly she dropped her head in her arms raking her hands roughly through her hair as if trying to pull it out.

"Phoebe," Severus said, grabbing her wrists as gently as he could, "Stop, please."

She sat up and for a moment tried to pull away. Again she was biting her lip, her fists clenching, her eyes searching desperately for his own. Severus found he didn't need someone to tell him what to do, after all. He released one of her wrists and put his hand on her back and pulled her to him.

She stiffened but did not pull back. He moved to sit on the bed, gathering her closer. Then he held her, whether for his comfort or his own he did not know. Slowly Phoebe relaxed against him as he ran one hand up and down her back. Soon she pressed her face closer to his chest and soon he felt her wet, warm tears soaking through his robes.

"I'm going to get Jeffrey and myself out of here," He whispered, "but only if you come too."

From across the room came a sharp cough. Jeffrey was sitting up very straight and very stiff. He caught Severus' eye and jerked his head toward the door even as he scrambled to his feet. With finely honed reflexes Severus was on his feet. He kissed Phoebe so quickly and lightly it was barely a breath against her lips before he was across the room rummaging through the wooden box on the desk.

"What exactly are you using it for, drinking water?" Snape snapped at Jeffrey as the door began to open.

"Fine drink that would make," Jeffrey said snidely, "but if you don't want to give me what I need to keep the child alive-"

"Fine!" Snape spat, "I shall make more and have it brought." With that he straightened up and swept from the room.

Dunderhead looked dimly from Jeffrey back toward the stair onto which Snape had disappeared. He shuffled over for the "lunch tray" and followed Snape out the door, shutting it with the unmistakable click of the lock.

Jeffrey moved to the bed. Phoebe had wrapped her arms around her torso and curled into a ball. He sat beside her on the bed without a word and reached over to send some comforting energy into her. She was dangerously ill, but with the right treatment he might be able to fix that. He wasn't sure he could mend the other things which ailed her.