A/N: yay another update! X3 I'm very nervous about this chapter though Oo hope it's not too OOC or emotional XD

Wake Up

Chapter 11: Weak mind

He couldn't really describe the rising pain he felt as unconsciousness slowly left him, since any kind of reasonable thought had left him long ago and wouldn't return until he'd gotten himself some painkillers and a big glass of whiskey.

White, gray and black dots made up his sight and he was unable to determinate if his eyes were open or not. The throbbing in his head suddenly increased in volume and a buzzing noise pierced his ears. What was happening? Groaning and cursing through tightly gritted teeth, he tried to move his arms enough to support his weight as he began to sit up. Still somewhat blind and disconnected to the world around him, Severus had to admit defeat as a ripping pain shot through his body and he slumped back into the uncomfortable sickbed.

"Dear Lord Severus! What in the world are you trying to pull off?" an annoying, soft yet high-pitched voice snapped angrily from somewhere around him. Blinking, Severus stilled himself and went quiet. Desperately trying to figure out exactly what the hell all this was about, he temporarily forgot about the pain. This was, as stated before, only temporarily though. When a cool hand grazed his forehead, and a pointy object poked at his stomach, Severus let out a howl worthy of a werewolf.

"What the hell woman?! Are you trying to bloody well kill me??" he sneered, suddenly sitting upright and glaring straight at the frowning face of Madame Pomfrey. Her lips tightened and she folded her arms across her chest; right hand gripping at her wand hard enough to make her knuckles go white.

Severus' sudden outburst died as soon as it had occurred, and back was the ever-so-annoying pain. Dammit, he couldn't even move an inch for God's sake! Well wasn't he a pathetic sight to behold.

"No, I am trying to save your godforsaken life Severus! Now stop moving around like a silly first year old having his first shot, and stop giving me that look!" Madame Pomfrey half hissed, half shouted in return. Her face had gone from pearly white to an amazing shade of red; something he felt he'd witnessed one too many times. Her insult went on deaf ears, since he was now once again this night (or was it the next day now?) concentrating hard on his breathing to keep from passing out. Something nagged at the back of his head though, and he'd be damned if it didn't stop. There was nothing he detested more (not counting in Potter or lemondrops) than not finding what he sought. Frowning deeply, he ignored the irritated shrieks from his right asking him if he was even listening.

"Albus," he mumbled, suddenly rigid. Hissing as a new wave of pain went through his body he decided to speak up to the witch and tell her his needs. "Poppy, I need painkillers now. Take the potion I made you last month, the one with the snake-blood, and give it to me now."

If time could freeze, with you still present and aware of it, this was such a moment. Madame Pomfrey had been in the middle of one of her rants - picking up and arranging different vials and notebooks, along with several strange looking objects Severus had learned to fear, while muttering and occasionally accusing him of various things in a loud and clear voice that explained the buzzing sound he'd heard earlier - when he interrupted her with this request.

"Severus?" she asked, brown furrowing together.

"Now," he hissed, head turned her way and black eyes burning into her own wide ones. She pursed her lips and snorted, but turned around and went straight over to the nearest cupboard, which she opened and searched for a while before grabbing a green-colored vial. Returning she opened it and made a move to pour it down his throat. Growling, Severus snatched it away and drained it on his own; ignoring the pain. He suspected he was already drugged with some kind of pain-dulling potion, since he hadn't thrown up yet and could bear the pain well enough. But right now, he needed something stronger if he were to keep himself conscious.

"The potion won't do you any harm, but why this one? It's not the strongest, the one you usually ask for, but the slowest," Madame Pomfrey said slightly puzzled. Severus spared her a sneer before closing his eyes as the potion ran through his veins; relaxing each knotted and stretched muscle on its way.

Indeed, it was the slowest potion. First it relaxed muscles, and then dulled the pain slowly while upsetting his mood, before dragging him into a groggy state that much resembled a night's drinking with Hagrid. The time it took for the potion to get that far was enough for him to managing in leaving a repot. He did intend to be able to talk to Albus like a normal person, and not a drunk. The potion he usually took would've made him unable to form a complete sentence by now, so he'd stuck to the slow version.

When he finally opened his eyes again, collected and remotely calm, he pushed away the annoying hands of the school nurse and growled.

"Go fetch Dumbledore; I need to report to him," he drawled, keeping a fretting Pomfrey at bay.

"That can wait until I've treated you properly!" she snapped, taking something that looked like a crooked scissor with dulled blades into her hands. This made Severus even more eager to get Albus there as soon as possible. Pomfrey cut him off before he could speak up again and said through clenched teeth; "I managed to heal your ribs and inner bleedings, even fix that dangerous strain in your spine, while you were out of it! But you've suffered from many dark spells and curses, young man, and if I don't get to treat…."

Severus' mood was rapidly darkening as the potion in his body shook his patience and control he had, making him cut her off with an irritated and childish retort that made his pale cheekbones take on a minimal flush, which could be mistaken as 'color-returning-to-his-face'. Only his skin didn't have much color to have returned.

"…and if you don't get to stuff me with hundreds of different potions and poke me with crooked scissors and hooks while waving that damned wand around, you won't be able to sleep calmly?" was what he spat out. Realizing his slip, Severus quickly covered it up with a "Just bring Dumbledore here you damned nurse!"

Pomfrey sighed and came to the conclusion that the fastest way to get the sour Potions Master well again was to let him have his way for now. After all, he always commanded to see the Headmaster after coming back like this. Though he usually weren't this hurt, or drugged with painkillers, when he made the requests. But when he'd finally said what he had to say, she always managed to 'stuff him with a hundreds of different potions etc' before he got away and locked himself in his chilly dungeons to sulk for a good few days.

Seeing her obey his orders, Severus leaned back in the bed and let out a huff. No, not a huff. He didn't huff. He snorted. Reminding himself of this, he allowed his mind to analyze his situation.

Voldemort had surprised him with the sudden change of approach. It seemed he'd finally learned from his mistakes, and had begun to think a bit more logically. Maybe the reason for it taking so long was that he really wasn't someone to admit his faults and mistakes. If so, it surprised Severus even more. Would Voldemort ever admit it? Well, it seemed like it. Then again, perhaps he'd made up some sort of excuse to soothe his fried nerves to be able to do it.

Anyhow, it didn't concern Severus and the current problem at hand.

Voldemort had now removed Severus from his position as an information seeker, though not entirely of course, and set his mind on killing off Dumbledore. It hadn't been a priority before, since it was, in fact, almost impossible. And if you looked at it as an outsider, you'd think it'd be easier to take on Potter first. But Severus knew the boy didn't fully rely on luck and the Order's powers, but also on his friends and his own abilities. Of course, Dumbledore and the Order (himself included, thank you very much) played the main role in keeping that obnoxious brat safe, so yes as an insider he had to admit it'd be easier to try and sneak up on Dumbledore. Which could only mean it was only a bit less impossible to get to Potter than Albus, since he rarely cared for his own safety when the boy was concerned. Though Potter was much the same, not caring for what could happen to him when anyone he cared for or just simply fucking knew were concerned - but at least he had Dumbledore's full protection along with his followers in those situations. Albus rarely had much people around to protect him, most of them being busy doing something else, even though everyone wanted the old man safe and sound. But still, it was impossible, right?

Groaning and letting his shoulder slump a bit, Severus shook his head slightly. Impossible, impossible, impossible. Was it something his mind wanted him to believe in? Of course it wasn't impossible for Voldemort, the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, his 'Master' as well as nightmare monster, to follow through with whatever plan he had and kill the old man. But for Severus, it was.

'I might as well start to really prepare myself for a painful death', he thought bitterly. 'There is no way I'll die on the battlefield anymore. With these turn of events, I can only end up at the mercy of the Dark Lord.' His thoughts were painfully true, he knew, since there was no way in the world he could follow through with Voldemort's orders. And disobeying Voldemort several times in a row often leads to torture, if he still has use for you, or death. Severus doubted he could be of any use to anyone after another dose of what he got today (or was it yesterday?). Mental stability only took you this far, he'd learned. After all, when was the last time he'd allowed his mind to stray and wander this freely around the subjects of his own or his superiors' deaths? If he remembered correctly, it was the night he came to Dumbledore's office only to become spy. Fancy the thought of him fantasising about his and Voldemort's death, or fearing for Dumbledore's, 24-7. But that wasn't the case. He'd banned these thoughts from his head, because he didn't need anymore gloom and depression in his life and mind.

"Ah, Severus, you're awake!" a jolly voice called out. Choking on a yelp and fighting down the urge to jump in surprise, Severus was dragged out of his chaotic mind by none other than Albus Dumbledore. Severus sat up straighter, shoulder stiffening, and slung his leg over the bedside, facing the old wizard directly.

"Pardon me for not standing fully in your presence, Headmaster," Severus said with a slight sneer followed by a smirk. He'd erased the word smile from his vocabulary a long time ago, which somehow seemed to amuse the old man before him in situations like these.

"Ah, it's quite alright m'boy," Albus assured, chuckling slightly. A few, short moments passed before the atmosphere sobered and turned tense. Albus waved his wand gracefully and sat down in a comfortable chair in front of Severus, lacing his fingers together before placing his chin on them and his elbows on the arm rests. "So, what happened?" he asked, blue eyes scanning the younger man carefully.

"It seems I've been proven wrong," Severus stated, meeting Dumbledore's puzzled stare with a hard look. "Voldemort has now changed priorities. Instead of going after Potter, he's going after you. Through me, of course."

Albus sat still in his chair, his eyes fixed on Severus' face in a way that made the dark-haired man slightly uncomfortable.

"From this moment on, Severus, you'll be working with me to finally destroy the senile old man at that blasted school. Perhaps going after Potter was a bad thing to do, with him alive, since it's progressing so slowly. But with him out of the way, Potter will be an easy target," Severus continued, voice even and eyes steady. He paused to sneer and added with heavy sarcasm; "I believe those were his exact words. Forgive me if I left something out, I was a bit…distracted. Nevertheless, it seems like he's finally learning from his mistakes. My, what a good boy. Potter should take after him. Minus the world domination part though. I don't fancy kneeling at his feet."

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head, breaking eye contact in the progress.

"Your wit is surprisingly dull after the right dose of painkillers," he stated, a slight smile tugging at his lips. It disappeared soon enough and was replaced by a frown. "Putting that aside, I need to consider these turns of events as much as you need to rest and recover properly. I'll leave you with Poppy and return tomorrow at the earliest."

Severus watched as the old wizard stood up and removed the chair with a lazy wave, looking down on him from his standing position.

"I doubt I'll need to be here for so long, Headmaster…" he began, but Albus simply held up a hand and shook his head; silently telling him it was no use to argue, no matter how satisfying it was to let some frustration out. Unfazed, Severus continued with a frown, "Which reminds me…how long have I been here?"

"You were brought here yesterday, late at night," Dumbledore responded, already making his way towards the exit. "It's late evening now," he stated absently, making a slight pause to turn his head and meet Severus dark eyes, smiling, "and don't worry yourself too much after you've calmed down. Young miss Tonks is doing well and should be out back at her home by now. She doesn't seem to hold any grudges against you; I questioned her yesterday. It was quite the opposite, in fact."

And with that, the old twinkling bastard was gone. Severus stared at the doorway, mind in a new state of chaos. He'd forgotten about her. Since he passed out, or rather since Voldemort told him of his new 'plans', Severus' mind had been too preoccupied to spare the young woman a single thought.

Which was perfectly fine. Absolutely right. He didn't need to waste time on thinking about her, be it scenarios where he made her speechless or flushing red with his witty tongue and remarks or not, she was just a finished chapter.

Right.

The painkiller had long ago made his mind into a cotton field bathing in fog, but it seemed to have worsened. Not only was he ignoring the facts that many consequences would follow up with his actions, such as a shaken and probably destroyed Tonks and the whole Order biting at his heels because of his cruelness and obvious evilness. Slowly sinking back into a lying position and letting Pomfrey do whatever she needed to do, Severus just didn't care. The Order may think he's cruel and evil. He wouldn't deny it all. He was cruel, but he wasn't evil. That's just the way things are. If he needed to break down an innocent girl, no matter how annoying, he would do it but he wouldn't enjoy it. And he hadn't.

Tonks. Nymphadora Tonks. A clumsy and annoying piece of young woman. He'd hurt her so many times it should've become easy, yet he'd caressed her body as if it all mattered…but he wasn't the only one, a voice from somewhere deep inside of him hissed. Suddenly the sight of Lucius twisting in pain on the cold ground and his own mental fantasies made his feelings at that time much more justified. One day, he promised himself in a rush of anger, he'll make him pay.

However, Severus' once again greatly weakened mind strayed back to the image of the woman's full lips as they parted, blowing a sigh of content through them. Before he could trace her curves with eyes and fingers, it was quickly replaced by the door which had held her captive. His hands grazed the rough surface, ears picking up her desperate words. Calm, quivering, loving, scared and desperate, they were. He couldn't remember it all now, on the brick of unconsciousness again, but her words moved something deep within. Nudged eagerly and made it move a few inches. His mind must be mixing memories and making it into one, he concluded, since he felt things you could only feel when in another's embrace. But his hands were still at the door. She was still locked inside, whispering. Calling out to him through the door, reaching out and touching his hands through the wood. Yet he felt it clearly. Heard it clearly. But he wasn't satisfied. There was something more to it, he knew. He needed to open the door. That was it! He reached for the handle, but couldn't find it. He frowned. Why wasn't it there? He remembered every single time he'd pressed it down to let himself into the darkened room with its hunched, beautiful witch on the floor or bed. But it wasn't where it was supposed to be, and he needed to know what drove him to her. Needed to know what she wanted; calling his name like that.

He hated it. Why couldn't he open the door dammit?

It all soon faded away, and before he could ask himself why he even bothered to struggle with his own dreamy world of fuzzy memories in the state he was in now, or even why he'd dared to call her beautiful, he fell into the darkness once again.

If he dreamt then, it was about a certain woman. But if he'd found out, there wouldn't be a way to stop it. This new chaos, this new crack in his dark being, was it the result of a weakened mind, or heart? Was it even weakness? But he wasn't the only one falling deeper and deeper into the darkness of the night, even after the supposed nightmare had ended. A whispered name smoothly falling from the lips of a woman sleeping peacefully far from here told of a new kind of dream, in which the lights are on instead of switched off and where doors are opened instead of locked.

A/N: the end of this chappie was a little...well, anyway, it's some kind of end coz now I'm gonna try and twist this story around a bit. coz you know you want more lemonade, right? or perhaps I'm wrong...maybe some angsty death or how about a sappy cliché? -evil grin- now you really don't know what I'm gonna do with this story, eh? mwahahaha!! I'm having so much fun writing this right now XD don't ask me why; I'm giddy and happy at the moment. even though I'm currently freaking out in my A/N on one of my darker stories knwoing full well you've been questioning my sanity for a while...ah, well, what to do about little me?

how about sending me a review:) coz you know I love you ;)