Disclaimers: Still not mine, despite my best efforts…

A/N

1) Guys, please… was chapter six so BAD? I mean, I didn't get a single review… not one! Not even a flame!! I'm getting scared here… if there was anything wrong with it, you should tell me, so that I can make it better!!! Please! gets on her knees and begs for reviews ;;;

2) Here is a chappie that I'm sure will delight all Lupin/Snape friendship shippers out there. It is, in fact, a hurt/comfort. It will not become romance, just so we're clear, but it is kinda open to all sorts of interpretations.

3) I know the Oblivion thing is CRAPPY to say the least. I'm sorry. What can I say, I have no life.

CHAPTER SEVEN

SURVIVING

Lupin didn't know how he had managed to survive the night.

As he lay there, unmoving, the pictures still clutched in his hand, he was oblivious to everything else around him. He couldn't feel his own body anymore. His physique had turned out to be quite stubborn in refusing to let go… well, it didn't bother Lupin: his brain and heart were too far gone now, so it was really just a matter of time before the rest of him went as well. He didn't attempt to move a single muscle, he just waited… Just a few more hours…

"For the sake of Merlin…" a strangely familiar voice suddenly invaded his private space. He ignored it. Leave me alone, he thought. Alone.

He felt the door close. From the inside. Then someone walked up to the bed.

"Are you hurt?"

What kind of a stupid question was that? Of course I am, you idiot… Lupin summoned what little strength he had in him, and forced himself to speak.

"Go away" he said in a coarse whisper –he couldn't even talk properly. He thought about it, then added. "Or hex me. Whichever."

"Are you hurt?" That question, again. What did it mean?

He felt cool, skinny hands grab his, roll up his torn sleeves a bit and carefully examine his palms and wrists, up to his forearms.

"Where does all the blood come from?" This seemed to wake Lupin up a bit.

"What…blood…?" He croaked, opening his eyes slowly, and turning to look at… Snape? Great, of all people, he was the last he wanted to see right now. His eyes fell shut again.

But Snape had found what he was looking for.

"Have you gone out of your mind?" Was the sharp comment, when he took a closer look at Lupin's fingers. The werewolf felt the same cold hands turn him forcefully on his back. Just like its sleeves, the front of his shirt had been torn too, and there were scratches all over his chest.

"It's nothing…" he said, trying to push the hands away. Snape was not thrown off in the least.

"It's full of old scars…and there are new wounds as well. How long have you been doing this?"

Lupin chuckled mirthlessly in spite of himself.

"The scars are… well, now you see why I appreciate your Wolfsbane so much? I used to do this every time I transformed…"

"Which doesn't explain the new ones. They're not just claw marks. What are they? Did you try and scratch yourself with your bare--" it had started as a sarcastic comment, but when Snape realized it must be just that, he fell silent.

"Snape, I'm giving you the chance to turn away now…" Lupin said, the calmness in his voice sounding more like a threat.

"Do shut up, Lupin." Snape went on. "Unless you have something useful to say. Now…" Snape stopped abruptly. "What the—?"

He reached out once more, and his long bony fingers closed around the two pictures that had slipped out of Lupin's grip during Snape's examination.

Merlin, but this man is good at hiding his emotions, Lupin thought, as he peered up at the potions master. Mmh. Maybe he hadn't understood all of it, Lupin wasn't sure. The expression on Snape's face was impenetrable, and no harsh comments escaped his now pursed lips as he seemed to make some quick thinking.

"Where did you put the Oblivion?" He finally asked, his voice blank.

Lupin shook his head.

"It's too late. I'm kinda beyond that. What I need now is a good wand. Hell, even a knife would do…"

"If this is a joke, I'm not laughing." Snape finally said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Does it look like I'm joking? Hell, I've never been so serious in my--" Lupin froze, that word bringing everything back in a wave. He began to choke, and his eyes watered all over again; the tears were silent and burning.

Snape flinched, alarmed, and tried to shake him.

"For pity's sake, Lupin, pull yourself together!" His voice was hard as steel, but Lupin could tell he was getting scared. Snape? Scared? Two words he thought he'd never put in the same sentence. This time though he'd really caught him off guard… poor Snape, having to witness to –

"Lupin. Get on your feet now." Snape's voice brought him back to reality. "You need to come with me, this instant." To prove he meant it, the potions master overcame his dislike for touching people –and more specifically half-breeds- with a glower, and grabbed Lupin by one arm, trying to get him to sit up. Lupin didn't comply. But he'd begun to feel his limbs again; his chest hurt badly, and the stickiness told him he'd indeed been bleeding. A lot.

"Why do you even--" 'Bother', he'd meant to say, but Snape talked him down.

"Don't give that bastard this satisfaction." He said, slightly lowering his voice. He was sure this would shake Lupin a little, and in fact it did.

"What?" Lupin's eyes shot up at him. Snape sneered.

"You heard me, Lupin. He's not worth your life."

Eyes suddenly darkened, Lupin struggled to sit up.

"How dare you…" He tried to push himself off the armchair so that he could throw the potions master out, but he was too weak, and began to sway. Snape would have rolled his eyes at how easy it had been, but right now he didn't feel confident enough… Lupin looked downright distraught. Snape didn't know how in the world the wizard had been able to survive the full moon in those conditions.

So he caught hold of the werewolf instead, supporting him.

"Now, that's better." Snape said, irritated. "Come now. Can you walk?" Lupin didn't answer, but when Snape pulled him out of Sirius' room, he followed quietly.

The potions master dragged him to his own room, and helped him lie down on his bed; he performed a cleansing spell to rid Lupin's body of all the blood. Lupin let him do it without moving a single muscle, either to help him or push him away; he just kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling, and no word escaped his mouth.

Snape turned his back on Lupin and approached his desk, rummaging through his stuff, in search of something. He didn't like having Lupin there, in his private space, but at least he could keep an eye on him this way… make sure the werewolf didn't do anything extreme while he tried to figure out what to do. After ten minutes or so he'd lined up a number of potions on the edge of the desk. Since he couldn't use anything too strong (Lupin's weakened body wouldn't take it), he opted for

"You know, you are damn lucky that Shaklebolt and McGonagall didn't drop by today, like they should have. Or Dumbledore…" he added, painfully stressing the word. Lupin's eyes widened in alarm and searched Snape's, but he was still standing with his back facing Lupin. Snape glanced over his shoulder, then resumed preparing the potions.

"Don't worry, Lupin. I'm not going to tell him. Yet." But he'll have to know, and I'll make sure he does."

Lupin relaxed visibly, then stiffened again.

"You…" he began tentatively, "What are you gonna tell him?" Snape thought about it.

"The truth." He said at last, with a sigh. "Full moon. No Wolfsbane. No oblivion. You just lost it, obviously." Clearly, Snape felt at least in part responsible for what had happened.

Silence. Then:

"And that's it?" it was barely above a whisper; luckily, Snape had a good hearing.

"That's it, Lupin." He stopped fidgeting with a vial and turned to look at the werewolf. "Is there really anything else to say?" His voice maybe, just maybe, sounded tired.

Lupin didn't know if Snape had really understood the reason why he had crumbled down; but the potions master was an intelligent man… he must have put two and two together. And yet, if he had, he was very good at hiding whatever the hell it was that this particular bit of information had stirred in him. Why wasn't he making fun of Lupin? The absence of sarcastic comments about Sirius on Snape's part were unheard of. Was he just ignoring the matter because he felt uncomfortable? Yeah, right. When Snape was uncomfortable, he usually attacked instead of retreating or simply dropping the subject.

Lupin's thoughts trailed off: Snape had once again turned his back on him. Maybe he'd taken Lupin's silence as a sort of affirmative answer to his earlier question. Well, it was good, wasn't it? Snape might actually decide to keep his nose out of it… right? Then why did Lupin feel a surge of –disappointment?- run through him? He shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

After making sure everything was in place, Snape took the first vial in his hand and turned to Lupin.

"Here" he said. "Drink it." Lupin nodded weakly, defeated. Snape had to hold the vial to his lips, because the werewolf's hands were shaking dangerously. When Lupin gulped the concoction down, Snape finally nodded, satisfied.

"Good. Now this one." He brought to his lips another small bottle, filled with a dense, dark red liquid. Lupin drank it obediently.

"Now. Try and stay awake. You have to drink another potion in about ten minutes. I'll be right back." Lupin looked at him questioningly, and a bit—frightened? Snape shook his head. What did he care?

"I just need to inform Dumbledore that I'm staying here for a while." Lupin tried to sit up on his elbows to protest, but Snape motioned for him to lay back down.

"Do not move. You're too weak. I'll just tell Dumbledore I'm spending the day here." He repeated, thoroughly annoyed, then swept away.

Lupin didn't relax though. What if Snape told Dumbledore? He wasn't ready to face the old wizard. Snape was right about this. He was too weak. And frankly, all he felt like doing right now was lying down, feeling sorry for himself. And think of Sirius, and of all the missed chances in his life. He curled up slightly on the bed, holding his hands close to his heart. Maybe if he thought hard enough, he might be able to disappear…

He didn't know what the names were, but those first two potions weren't really working. Or at least, he didn't feel any different. Right. They must be merely concoctions to stop the bleeding, and the other to integrate the blood loss. The other pain, the one weighing on his chest, suffocating him… that wasn't nearly as easy to heal. Lupin forced himself to breathe more deeply.

Soon enough, Snape was back. He approached Lupin briefly and examined the now closed wounds, then fed the werewolf another potion. The poor wizard was so distracted by the lingering images of Sirius floating in his mind that when he realized what Snape had done, it was too late.

He looked up at the potions master, eyes wide.

"You—how could you--"

"You are giving me no choice." Snape replied gravely. "The Oblivion is really your last chance. You may not feeling it now, but you're under shock and Merlin knows what else. Anyways. I don't know what plans you had back there, but you are not going to die tonight. Not while I'm in here. I will not be made a fool of."

Lupin screwed up his face as he tried to put Snape's now slightly blurred form into focus. He failed.

"I told you I didn't--"

"I couldn't care less about what you told me."

His mind fogged then, and the last thing Lupin saw before drifting into a long, restful, dreamless sleep was Snape's eyes. For the first time in his life, said eyes were looking down at Lupin with no traces of disgust, or sarcasm, or malevolence. Just plain anger. Or had he just imagined it?

There is nothing much that can be said about the Oblivion, except that it's highly unstable if you don't pay a lot of attention to the quantity you drink. It's known to have caused the death of some wizards and witches that had procured themselves a certain quantity illegally –because they hadn't been informed of the possible consequences if you took just a few drops more than necessary. Some had fallen in some sort of permanent coma. However, taken in small doses, its affect was undeniably useful.

Lupin had slept throughout that day, to the following one, and had awakened on the third morning after the full moon night. The knowledge of what had happened during and after the breakdown was perfectly clear in his head, but the pain mustn't be half as bad now. It should be perceived as more 'distant' now. Snape had taken it many times before, so he basically knew all the effects and side-effects.

Physically, he had managed to heal Lupin completely, courtesy of some unaware help on Madam Pomfrey's part. Snape wasn't stupid… he'd assumed that the old witch knew everything about werewolf healing –and how many times had she helped Lupin after particularly nasty transformations? So, Snape had convinced her to give him some advice, and he'd even managed not to give away Lupin's real condition.

The potions master had informed Dumbledore straight away, of course, and had asked him not to rush by Lupin's side too quickly. The werewolf had to sort out some stuff out first. The Headmaster had looked at Snape sadly, then he'd smiled and said something about how "light can be found in the darkest places", and that "right now Lupin was lucky to have Snape by his side"; then he'd offered the potions master a lemon drop. At his comments, Snape had promptly graced him with one of his most murderous glares –one that showed just how much he'd started to regret saving the poor ass' butt.

So here he was, relegated to the role of baby-sitter. If someone had told him two months before he would end up like this, he would've made sure to kill the idiot, and then himself too, just out of spite. And yet this experience had somehow turned out to be enlightening. He hadn't even suspected there could be more to the werewolf. Now he knew better.

Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, of course. In fact, he made a good job at hiding it all, getting mad at Lupin every time he got a chance to… and somehow, it was easier to pity the poor sod when he was not around. Because most of the time, when he was around, he just wanted to strangle him for his stupidity. Kill himself! Come on, how bloody pathetic could you get?

Right now, Snape was sitting in the kitchen, drinking hot tea and trying to figure out why that night's visit to the Dark Lord didn't bother him as much as it should have. His Master had let him know he wanted to see him. Well, he could only hope he was in a better mood than the last time…

Lupin was alone. Snape had helped him move back to his own room, and he was still surprised that no one but Dumbledore had been informed of what had happened. Unless he was very much mistaken, there was a slight possibility that Snape was really trying to help him. Of course, maybe the Headmaster had told the potions master to keep his mouth shut… but after all, when had this worked on Snape before? He had been the one who'd casually let it slip that Lupin was a werewolf, in spite of Dumbledore's specific orders… and now, now he was still the same bastard, from his moods to his attitudes…and yet…there was no mistaking his actions. Severus Snape had decided to help him.

Enough of Snape! Sirius was the most important thing now. Sirius!

Now, a small voice rose inside his drained head… he began to feel a bit –disappointed. Yes, Sirius had always been the strong one. But he'd thought he'd be able to do anything for him, if not for himself; this had proved false indeed. He hadn't even had the strength to go to him. He wasn't alive because Snape had prevented it; he was alive because he was too bloody weak to even end his worthless life. He sighed deeply. How pathetic. And on top of all this… he'd let the potions master see his pathetic weakness too. It was almost… embarrassing. And in that moment he silently thanked Snape's cold blood.

And today, the whole damn Weasley family had been invited… he could only hope Snape's dislike for them was greater then the urge of telling about Lupin's little 'accident'.

Then the potions master was back. Lupin gave him no sign or recognition when he entered the room, hastily closing the door behind him. Snape didn't seem to pick up Lupin's determination in blaming the potions master for saving him. Instead, he busied himself with some potion or concoction, or whatever it was that he was doing on that damn desk of him.

"You know, I'm really gonna put something in those brats' soup sometime soon, when they're not looking."

Lupin turned his head and opened his mouth to speak, then fell silent again. Snape was clearly trying to get him to speak, and he surely wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Besides, even if he didn't know exactly who the potions master was referring to, he could assume it was either Ron and Ginny, or the twins. Funny, how someone who hated kids so much had ended up being a teacher. And why so wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, Lupin had no clue. Okay, the subject might be a bit more fascinating than potions… but it was still about dealing with children, after all…Damn, thought Lupin, he's managed to tear me away from my black thoughts once again. How the hell does he do that?

It was strange to think about Sirius, now that he'd cried to the last drop of water he had in his body. He kept staring at the ceiling, dry-eyed, his hands unconsciously gripping the sheets on his sides.

"Can you believe what they just accused me of? They wanted to make sure I hadn't blasted you unconscious, then chopped you into tiny bits and brewed a potion with what was left of you."

Lupin's eyes shot up at Snape. What the hell was he talking about? Oh, right, the 'brats'... that was why he was so mad at them. And what an imaginative idea... chopping him into bits... hadn't he been in such condition, he would've laughed at the thought. But hey, since when had Snape become so talkative? He couldn't see the potions master's face, as his back was facing him.

"Tsk! If I wanted to get rid of you, there'd be a million other things I might do that would be far more effective. The easiest one, I guess, would be that of doing absolutely nothing... you alone would do the whole thing, and I wouldn't even have to get my hands dirty."

The sarcasm was evident in Snape's tone, and yet the potions master wouldn't look at him. Maybe he felt uncomfortable around Lupin's sorrow. Maybe because he was still shaken about what Lupin's actions really meant, but didn't want Lupin to know... he might read the confusion in his eyes, and he wasn't going to show that to anybody. The werewolf of course didn't know any of this, so he just assumed Snape was keeping as further away from him as he could get. Which was basically what he normally did with people every sodden day. He didn't comment the potions master's remark, and returned his eyes on the ceiling instead.

After a while though, Lupin heard that Snape's actions had become abrupt and a bit erratic. He was pissed off, Lupin could tell. About what? The potion wasn't working out well? No way, no such thing could happen to Snape!

Then he turned towards Lupin, his eyes menacing. Lupin swallowed, as Snape's gaze transfixed him.

"Well…" Lupin began, then fell silent. Snape just kept on staring down at him, until he could hold it no more. He couldn't help it. He wanted to know, wanted to hear it from the werewolf's lips, why he'd do such a stupid thing. At times he felt like he understood, and then suddenly he'd realize the utter stupidity of Lupin's idea…And by the way, he'd behaved 'civilly' while the werewolf was recovering, now he could vent out some of his frustration on him.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he said, demanding an explanation. Lupin didn't feel like lying again.

"I was just. It's complicated." Snape had the decency not to laugh at him.

"Right…" he opted for a neutral answer, then thought about it for a while, and exploded. "I'll make it clear for you, if you still haven't got it. This is none of my bloody business. But I think you were about to make the stupidest choice you could possibly do. To the Order. To Dumbledore. Or maybe you didn't notice. Well, I'll enlighten you: we are in the middle of a fucking war. Couldn't you wait until it is was over? I would've gladly helped you then." Lupin's eyes finally lifted to Snape's.

"At this point I'm not so sure I care." Snape's eyes blazed, and his fists clenched; he looked like he was trying to restrain himself from hitting Lupin.

"How dare you -" he gritted his teeth, not letting out a very offending comment he desperately wanted to throw at him. It was okay to feel desperate… but giving up on the Order for Melrin's sake! And he was supposed to be a Gryffindor?

"It's the truth." Lupin said. "Don't misunderstand me. I know how much I owe to the Order. How much I owe to Dumbledore… he was one of the first people who accepted me for who I was, not what I was. You yourself had some "disagreements" with him, over a certain DADA job. Anyway, there is a certain amount of pain that a man can bear… some people just have a higher rate. Clearly I haven't." Snape seemed to calm down for the moment, but he was still angry.

"Don't talk to me about "bearing", Lupin. You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, I do. I do, Snape. You might have always seen me as the happy, careless, reckless Marauder that I used to be. But things change –and to tell you the truth, I have never been happy, nor careless anyway."

"I seem to recall a certain amount of things you liked to "do" with your time though…"

"Even then, I didn't actively 'take part' in what they did. I just didn't report them, yes, and I even encouraged them. I must admit, this can be worse, from a certain point of view. SO it all comes down to acceptance, once again. Snape, I was accepted. I had never even dreamed of the possibility of it. So, if I had to behave in a certain way in order to achieve what I most wanted in my whole bloody life… I was more than willing to. Of course, I didn't see you then as I see you now. I've changed my mind a lot since then. Especially for what concerns you."

"Oh, did you…" said Snape, but the trace of disgust was almost gone from his voice now. He seemed to consider Lupin's words.

"I'm not attempting to flatter you. Far from it." He put on his most honest expression, one that Snape couldn't mistake, not even if he wanted. Snape closed his eyes briefly, then shrugged and turned his back on him again.

"Bloody werewolves…" He growled, his angry, disgusted façade back on. But somehow, he had seemed to understand. That was a first step. To what, Lupin didn't know. Nothing probably. At least he'd gotten it off his chest. Would've been a pity to carry it with him to the dead. He shuddered at the thought.

Alright guys, this was chapter 7. I hope it doesn't suck too much…

I once again apologize for my laziness, I haven't updated in, like, forever.

Anyways, if you have any comments/suggestions/flames… just feel free to Read & Review!!!

(okay, that was lame… I'm gonna go now)