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He hears the ticking of a clock as he sits. It is a reminder of what is to be. A reminder of all the things that have broken him and the time that has passed since. Each tick fills him with a swell of regret, each tock brings a crashing wave of sorrow.
Tick. This is his fault.
Tock. There is nothing left for him.
Tick. He should have been more.
Tock. He should have done more.
And it is all he can do to hold the emotions in. The emotions he knows would break him if he allowed.
"Severus, please."
He hears those words replay, hears the pleading of a man he had regarded as so much more. A friend in this world when he had nothing. A father when… Severus swallows. That is not a thought he has allowed to come in years and it will not come today.
"Fight back! You coward, fight back!"
It is Harry's voice, riddled with a grief that Severus had brought. It layers itself with words that Dumbledore had told him years before, "you disgust me."
The gleam in both their eyes one of distrust, of disappointment. Disappointment, but not surprise, and — in Harry's case — hatred.
Severus allows his head to fall, the palms of his hands pressing so painfully against his eyes that spots begin to appear, flashes of white appearing across the black of his vision, but it is not enough. It is not what he deserves.
Tick. Exceedingly arrogant.
Tock. Insufferable know-it-all.
Tick. Mudblood.
Tock. Avada Kedavra
There is a hollow in his chest that aches with desire. A desire for a different life, an existence that isn't this. A place in this world where he doesn't hurt, doesn't regret, where he didn't do so fucking much.
"Bitch!" His father's voice slurred with vodka, the stench of him permeating the small space. There was nowhere for Severus to go. Nowhere for him to escape the sounds of beatings, the pleadings from his mother to stop.
All he could do was watch.
Watch as the tumbler, free of drink, was hurled across the room, colliding with the wall, the glass shattering around his mother's frame. If Tobias hadn't been drunk, if Eileen had been closer… there were a lot of "ifs," and Severus tortured himself with them daily.
He tortures himself still. Only days have passed since the end of the term, since Severus became headmaster. The word is jagged and vile in his mouth. Days. And he can think of little else. Little more than the things he could have done differently. That he couldn't have done at all.
He thinks of the hurt that had thrived in Lily's eyes, the fact that he alone had planted it there. He thinks of the dull shimmer of Dumbledore's blue eyes, his vision skirting Severus' face. The news Dumbledore had brought.
"Her son survives."
A son that Severus can't stand to look at, that he has refused to see the goodness within. James. That's who Severus forces himself to see, the alternative much too painful.
"Potter's mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rule-breaker…"
He is. He is all those things and more. He is good, and Severus knows that. He knows that the boy is kinder than Severus lets himself believe. And Potter deserves more than this, more than the death that cascades around him, some that Severus has brought, others that he hasn't prevented.
Tick. Potter is good.
Tock. Potter is kind.
Tick. Potter is Lily's.
Tock. Potter's our only hope.
Severus lifts his head again, his eyes falling across the tower, the office that is now his. He hadn't meant himself to break. Each shattering of his resolve brings a harder cover, and this will be the hardest of all.
But, he knows that he will keep fighting, knows that even if he had any other choice, this is his war. Severus knows he will do it for Lily, that he will keep her son safe. And he knows it will never be enough.
"You promise?" Lily's voice was quiet as she asked, the green of her eyes that of a hopeful spring welcoming the sun, the ending of winter. And maybe for them, it was.
"I promise," Severus whispered back. His voice was soft beside her ear, his words melting in the gentle breeze, in the lapping of the river at their feet.
His hand came to her, the skin of her cheek soft beneath his thumb and he wondered how she could expect anything else. He was so willing to give her the world, and this small ask seems insignificant in comparison.
"Say it again," she pleads, though her voice is happier now, placated.
"I promise," he begins with an exhale, a huff of laughter. "I promise to love you when I can't even love myself."
Severus sees his reflection in the tower window, his face distorted by the mottled glass and the rain that dots it. Life had been so simple once, but the road diverged, splitting and leading him into a forest that devoured him, into a dark that he couldn't escape. And she had taken a different path, begging him to follow, but he had been unable. The dark of the forest much too close, and the light of her valley much too far.
How he wished he could bask in that sunlight now, feel the warmth of the light upon his skin, but he has embraced the shadows too harshly and knows the light would only sting his eyes. Knows that the longer he has been on this side, the longer will he remain. He knows that he should have followed her so many years ago.
Tick. I love you, Lily.
Tock. I always will.
Story Title/Link: Sorrow and Regret
School and Year: Ilvermorny year 2
Technique: Flashbacks
Prompt: [Sound] Ticking
Word count: 965 (10% leeway)
Summary: There are days when the grief of Severus' actions consume him. This is just another.