Wounded Spirits: Severus

It had been over five days since I'd rescued Gavin from the sadistic evil man who called himself the boy's father. The aftermath of the fire resulted in half of the mansion burning to the ground, but the Salem Fire Department managed to put it out, with unobtrusive assistance from some of the Hunters, so it didn't spread beyond the property. The local papers were calling it an accident, caused by a shoot out by a group of alleged Mafia or some other organized crime gang. They'd found illegal semi automatic weapons and grenades and other guns stashed in the basement and drawn their conclusions from that. Of course the thing that made the headlines was the death of Matthew Hawthorne, celebrated businessman and local, who had apparently been dealing with the Mafia under the table, and paid for it with his life. His death was recorded as asphyxiation from smoke. Several other bodies were still being identified, but none of them were my people.

No mention was made of any survivors, though I knew there had to be some. There had been over fifty people in that house and not all of them had died when Gavin had lit it on fire. No, the Brotherhood had suffered some heavy losses with the death of their Enforcer and others, we'd walloped their ass good, but they'd be back. Like weeds, they always returned, and had to be pulled out over and over again.

But the threat in Salem was ended, at least for now. I placed a quick call to the President of the AMA, who was my boss, letting him know what had happened. His biggest concern was if anyone had seen a Hunter using magic or if we'd managed to make it into the papers. Once I'd reassured him our secret was still safe, he relaxed and said, "You can write up a detailed report and give it to me next week, Director, at the next Cabinet Meeting. Ah think the wizards of Salem will sleep easier tonight thanks to your swift work."

"I certainly hope so, sir." I answered. "I'll see you at the meeting, Mr. President."

"Ah surely hope so, Severus. Give my regards to youah son now."

"I certainly will, sir," I answered. President Wilkins was from Georgia and he still spoke with a thick Southern accent. "Snape out."

I would tell him everything in my report, but right now I was more concerned with my son. I'd Apparated directly back to Evelyn's house after the battle with Hawthorne and his witch hunters. Gavin had been unconscious by then, and I'd put him in yet another guest room of Evelyn's, after cleaning him up with magic and running a quick diagnostic on him.

He was suffering from too much midnight mushroom powder, it was a bloody mystery how he'd ever managed to access his magic with that poison in his blood. Never underestimate the will of a firecaller, I thought in admiration, they were one of the few wizards who seemed to have an unusually high resistance to midnight mushroom powder. But even that wasn't enough to overcome the drug totally, which was why he'd gotten sick and passed out soon after using his gift.

I cursed and hoped Hawthorne was roasting in hell. The only antidote to midnight mushroom was the Dawnstar Elixir, and I had three vials on hand, but I didn't know if it'd be enough to treat him. I gave him the first dose as soon as I got him in bed, it started working almost immediately.

During the next two days, I was at his side practically twenty-four hours, leaving him only to eat and tend to other basic necessities. When I was gone, Teri sat watch over him until I returned. For most of that time he wandered in and out of consciousness, hallucinating frequently, for midnight mushroom is known to conjure visions.

I talked him through the worst of them, hugging him when he cried, holding him on my lap when he shivered violently from withdrawal. The Dawnstar counteracted a good deal of the withdrawal symptoms, so he didn't suffer the worst of them, but he was still subject to fits of shaking and hallucination, chills, and nausea.

I had to force him to eat, giving him broth and oatmeal, half of which he ended up throwing up, but I made him eat anyway. I summoned the Anti-Nausea Potion from my lab at home and gave him several doses and for once he was too sick to complain and just took it without an argument.

By the second day, his tremors were nearly gone and his stomach had settled a bit. Enough so he was able to complain about the taste of the Anti-Nausea Potion again. I smiled a little at that, then fed him it anyhow. He wasn't having visions so much anymore, but he was weakened by the drug and could barely walk the ten steps across the room to the bathroom. Stubborn kid tried, though, until I pointed out that over-exerting himself would only bring on another case of tremors, then he let me help him.

As for his magic, I couldn't tell how badly the drug had affected him until later, for I forbid him to do any magic until the drug was totally out of his system. I prayed it hadn't damaged his magical core too badly, he had only been given the drug for a day or a little more. Still the amounts that stupid Hawthorne had been giving him were enough to knock out a bloody horse.

But the Dawnstar worked beautifully and by the third day he was much recovered, physically, that is. Emotionally was another story. He refused to discuss anything that had happened while he was with Hawthorne, saying only that he'd betrayed everyone and become a witch finder.

I tried telling him that it wasn't his fault, he'd been drugged and not in his right mind at all, convinced by the bloody Captain that he was doing something good, but he wouldn't listen to me. He sank into a pit of despair and depression so dark that it scared me to death.

Meanwhile, Jane was recovering from her own ordeal at the Brotherhood's hands as well. But she bounced back from it with all of her old fire, healing with the help of my potions and she spent a great deal of time talking with Evelyn and Teri, who advised her and comforted her perhaps better than I could've done. I was relieved, for I had all I could handle with Gavin.

My son was drowning himself in a sea of guilt and self-loathing, and I didn't know how I could help him. It was driving me insane, because I wanted to help him and yet he refused to even speak with me after a while. All he did was stare up at the ceiling, barely acknowledging anyone. I wanted to shake him, to tell him to wake up, that it was all right to feel, because then at least he was alive.

But then he would look at me, with those huge eyes, filled with endless despair and my resolve would crumble. I longed to resurrect Matthew Hawthorne, so I could kill him all over again for the hell he put my son through yet again. Death was too good for the likes of him.

The twins visited Gavin sometimes, during the day, and tried also to get him to talk, or even smile, to no avail. I think it scared them, to see their cousin so unresponsive, lost in a world of his own making.

"Will he ever get better, Uncle Sev?" Drew asked, about four days after we'd gotten back.

"Yes, eventually, Drew. It will just take time. What they did to him and made him do, it's a lot for him to deal with right now, and he's scared and hiding, but one day he'll come back and be his old self again."

"You sure about that?" asked Nick.

"Yes," I answered firmly, and wished like hell I believed it.

Teri and the boys had to go home, however, she couldn't afford to stay here in Massachusetts and risk losing her job, so I bid them farewell and told them I'd let them know when I returned home with Gavin.

Evelyn was a Godsend, she made sure all of us ate, and took care of Jane while I struggled to coax Gavin out his depression. She made me endless cups of tea and talked with me while I drank them, telling me of her childhood and that of her sister Mina, whom she had helped hide her magic from her family.

"I think my ancestor Nathaniel would've been proud of my sister, he had no love for the witch fanatics in my family," she told me one evening. "But my father and brother would've been horrified and so would've my nephew." She shook her head sadly, petting one of the cats, Silk, I think was her name. "I'm sorry, Severus, so sorry for what Matthew did to that poor boy. I'd blame it on his upbringing, but there comes a point where you just can't use that as an excuse anymore and Matthew was an adult and knew what he was doing when he gave Gavin that drug. Damn him! His hatred nearly destroyed the only good thing he ever produced in his life, the idiot!" She sniffed sharply. "I helped hide his wife Abby for a week when she ran away from him with her son. I was the one who convinced her to do it, I knew she and the child would end up terribly hurt else, and I couldn't stand by and watch yet another child be corrupted by that evil doctrine. Matthew was a sorry excuse for a man and a father, Severus, much as I hate to say it. Gavin is so very lucky you found him, Severus."

"Actually it was the other way around," I corrected her softly. "He found me. I was standing on a street corner waiting for the light to change when he tried to pick my pocket. He set off my anti-theft ward, and when I turned around to see who had his hand in my back pocket, he unconsciously tried to turn it off, and that's when I recognized him for a wizard. The first words I ever spoke to him were, "What the hell do you think you're doing, you little brat?" and he looked at me and said, "Getting the hell away from you," and then he tried to run away, but I caught him. At the time, I couldn't believe my rotten luck, getting stuck with an apprentice who was a street thief and had about as much respect for authority as a cat. But he grew on me, the little scamp, and now I can't imagine my life without him, Evelyn. He's my son, and I love him and I wish like hell I could take all the pain he's suffering away, blast it!"

I looked away from her then, so she wouldn't see the tears I was too proud to shed.

"You're doing fine, Severus," Evelyn said, reaching out and laying a hand on my arm. "Give him time, he'll come around. Just be there for him when he needs you, Director, that's the best medicine in the world, even better than magic potions. When I was sick, my father used to sit by my bed and play the guitar and it always made me feel better than all the medicine the doctor prescribed."

I nodded, but I wanted to do so much more. I rose to my feet. "I need to get some fresh air," I said. "I'm going for a walk."

"Yes, that'll do you good," she said. "I'll watch Gavin until you get back."

I left as quickly as I dared, I really needed to be alone to think, before I ended up falling apart like my poor son. As I went down the porch steps, I passed by Jane, who was sitting on one of the chairs facing the street, Lily on her lap, petting the pretty cat and smiling to herself. I thought of Evelyn's propensity for taking in strays, all of her cats had found their way to her front door and never left. Perhaps she'd be willing to take in one more.

I shook my head at the direction my thoughts were taking. Next thing you knew I'd be running a soup kitchen and a charity fund for orphans. Black and Potter were probably laughing their damn wings off up there, seeing the greasy git of the dungeons turning into bloody Saint Severus. Ha! Not quite. But I was more willing to admit that I had a heart now than I ever had before, or should I say I could admit it now, because now it was safe to do so.

Except now my heart ached for my son, and I hated how helpless I was in the face of his pain. So I went for a walk, down by the water, it was quiet and still at this time of the evening, and everyone was at home with their families. I settled down on one of the old wooden pilings and stared out across the greenish blue water, my chin cupped in my hand and I whispered, "Help me please, I don't know what to do anymore and I don't want to lose my child."

I don't who I was calling on, God, Merlin, the universe.

But it was Amelia, my soulmate and wife, who answered, coming to me in a flicker of blue light and putting her arms about me. "Sev, I'm here. Tell me what's wrong."

I held her close, burying my face in her hair, which smelled of strawberries and sunshine, just the way I remembered it. "Amy, God, I don't know what to do anymore, how to help him . . ." I told her everything, there was no awkwardness when I spoke now, there never had been. She was my soulmate, the other half of me, and I could tell her anything, admit anything to her, without shame or guilt.

You may wonder how I could get comfort from a spirit, but Amelia wasn't just any spirit, we were a soulbonded pair, and a soulbond transcends even death, since souls never die. You know how everyone is supposed to have a guardian angel watching over them? Well, mine was my wife, whom not even death could separate. I think God must have seen the futility of commanding her to stay in heaven, especially when I needed her, so He allowed her to come to me when she felt it necessary. Which was not often, but at times like these, she was there for me.

By that I mean emotionally and physically, in a way that I can't explain. She was dead, yet when I touched her, she felt as real as I did, and I could hold her and she could touch me just as if she were alive. No one else could, not even our daughter, but maybe that's because she was my soulmate.

Right then I wasn't about to try and analyze why I could feel and speak with her, I was just incredibly grateful I could unburden myself to somebody who would understand me completely. I didn't need to even speak too much, Amelia was an empath, and we hardly needed words to communicate, most times.

She absorbed all of my frustration and worry and fear and soothed me with her hands and her mind, better than any potion I'd ever brewed and then some. I told her how I was terrified that Gavin was very close to being suicidal, and his fits of melancholy and depression were growing worse.

"No, Sev. He's not that bad, trust me," she said then, her fingers threading my hair.

She was sitting in my lap, and I had my head on her shoulder for a change, my cheek resting comfortably in the curve of her neck. I could hear her heartbeat, crazy as that sounds. But I could, honest to God. Maybe to the rest of the damn world she was dead, but at this moment, for me, she was as alive as she'd ever been. And it felt so good to hold her and be held by her, I craved her touch like a drug, it filled my soul with light and without it I was incomplete.

"Are you sure, Amy?" I murmured.

"Very sure, Sev. He's hurting awfully, but he's not going to kill himself. He regards suicide as a mortal sin, you know."

That made sense, raised in a religious household as he'd been, even if the religion he'd been taught wasn't the ideal one, still it had instilled in him a sense of self-preservation. And a good thing too, for how many other kids who'd gone through what he had wouldn't be tempted to find a knife or whatever and end it?

"How can I help him, Amy? He won't tell me what happened, and he needs to talk about it, it's not good for him to keep it all bottled up inside, it's tearing him apart." A blind man could see that, and I was far from blind, not with all of my own experience and my psych degree.

"Yes, but he thinks you won't understand. He feels that he's done the unforgivable and rather than admit it, he hides from it. It's kind of like when a child breaks an expensive vase, one he knows he wasn't supposed to touch, but then he tries to hide the pieces under the rug, figuring mom will never notice. But he knows it's there and every time he goes by he glances at it, and feels more and more guilty. Until finally he confesses and his mom punishes him and then forgives him and it's over with."

"What are you saying, Amy? That Gavin's waiting for me to punish him? Holy hell, the kid's been through enough without me doing anything to add to it."

"So he punishes himself, Sev. By denying himself the comfort from you and his friends. Part of his depression is plain old-fashioned guilt over disobeying you. He said it in his note, he was sorry for what he did and he knows he deserves to be punished. He expects it, Sev."

"And I will punish him for lying to me and disobeying me, Amy, but I'm not going to do it now, by Merlin's blazing hair! He'd go to pieces if I raised my voice to him."

"Then don't. Just tell him that you'll punish him eventually and leave it at that. It'll help alleviate the guilt he's feeling, Sev. He knows that his actions have consequences, you taught him that, and he needs to know it still holds true, even now when his world is falling apart. I know that sounds crazy, but it's a safety net. And you should talk with him about your father, Sev."

"My father? What's that bastard have to do with anything?"

"Tell him about what he did to you, love. You've got common ground there and you can show him that you don't need to be like the man who sired you. Right now he feels like dirt because of who his father is and what he made him do, he thinks he's worthless and just like the bastard. But you know differently, because you were in his shoes once."

Oh yes, I had been. But I had managed to make a vow to myself to never be like the man and I had kept it, for the most part. Except for when I was sixteen and had stupidly joined Lucius and the Death Eaters. Then I'd been Tobias Snape's son, all right. But once I'd come to my senses . . .I'd walked away from the specter of Tobias and never looked back. Not once.

"You're right." I sighed. "It won't be easy . . .but I'll do it. He deserves to know, he would understand better than most, and if it'll help him fight his own demons . . ."

"It will, love. The truth sets you free." She turned her head and kissed me.

I kissed her, losing myself in her touch. "God, Amy, I want . . ." I gasped, and didn't finish that sentence, because she knew as well as I what I wanted. Her. Forever and always.

"Me too," she whispered, and her eyes blazed with passion, like the stars burning far above us.

I drew back, though it cost me every bit of self control to do it. "I wish we could have one night together. Just one, dammit. Is that too much to ask?"

"No," she whispered, her hand coming up to cup my chin. "Are you asking?"

"Who do I need to ask? You or God?"

She laughed, and her laugh was the sweetest thing. "Me, silly man. God's already granted me permission, else I wouldn't be here."

I gaped at her. Then I smiled. "Well, Amy? Did you miss me?"

"Always, Sev."

"Show me. Please."

She kissed me again. "Not here."

"Where?"

She snapped her fingers and suddenly we were no longer in Salem, but somehow we were in my bedroom at Lily Lane. I wasn't about to question how the hell we'd gotten there. Not on your life. I'd gotten my wish and for one night I had her back and I wasn't going to waste it.

Self control be damned. I drew her down with me on the bed and indulged myself in the oldest pleasure of all, and for once I was content, the aching in my soul fulfilled, for I held the star from heaven in my arms and she burned brightly as ever, and for that one night so did I.

"I love you, Amelia," I whispered, much later, as we lay drowsily in each other's embrace.

"I love you too, Sev," she smiled sleepily up at me, her aqua eyes dancing. "You're the very best thing."

"So are you," I laughed, then I kissed her again. "You know, whoever said angels were passionless didn't know what the blazes he was talking about."

"Of course he didn't," she chuckled, kissing my nose. "He was some celibate monk stuck in a stone cell forbidden to interact with women and fasting himself to oblivion. How could he possibly know anything about passion, or angels, or men and women, the poor schmuck?"

"Seriously?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously. He made it up and claimed it was a holy vision. He was frustrated."

"I'll bet." Then I started to laugh uncontrollably. "I'm glad he was wrong." I managed after a few minutes.

"Me too. But he knows differently now," she added mischievously and then we stopped talking, for we had better things to occupy us.

* * * * *

I woke the next morning in my bed back in Evelyn's house, feeling better than I had in a long time. I smirked to myself as I rose and went to take a shower and get dressed. A visit from an angel will do that to you. Especially when that angel also happens to be Amelia Snape. I was ready to talk to Gavin today, and see if perhaps my revelations would cause him to open up and release all that anguish he'd been holding inside. Then, once the wound on his spirit had been drained, he could begin to heal.

But when I went into his room to wake him, he wasn't there.

I panicked then, thinking the worst, and bolted down the hallway. "Evelyn? Where's Gavin?" I cried.

"Outside. With Janie," she said, and drew me to the window that overlooked the backyard. "You must have had some night last night. I didn't even hear you come in," she remarked.

"Umm . . .I didn't want to wake you," I said hastily, feeling myself blush like a schoolboy. Me, the Director! I was forty-one, by Merlin, not sixteen! Yet Evelyn made me feel like a teenager caught sneaking kisses on his girlfriend's back porch. As if I had anything to be ashamed of, spending a night with my wife. I quickly turned my gaze to the window facing the backyard.

The two were sitting down on the grass, and it was plain they were having a discussion. More like an argument, really, for both of them were glaring at each other.

"Should we . . .?" I looked at Evelyn questioningly.

"No. They need to talk, or scream, or whatever. Let them be for now. Unless it looks like they're going to start punching each other out."

"Gavin would never lift a finger to Jane," I chuckled knowingly. "But she might just pop him one in the nose if he doesn't watch it."

Evelyn smiled. "That's a woman's prerogative," she said and I snorted.

But we remained where we were, allowing the two children to iron out their differences in relative privacy.

A/N: So how did you like Amelia coming to visit Severus?

Today's my birthday, so please review, it'll make me very happy!!

Next: Monkey and Gavin have a rather emotional discussion