Title: Blue October, Volume One – Chapter Fifteen.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Hello, all. I am happy to say that my reasons for putting my Fictions on Hiatus have been greatly diminished, so here is a reward for your patience. ^_^ Oh, and thanks for reading and reviewing, my lovely readers. This one's a little bit shorter than normal, but not by much. Enjoy!

Chapter Fifteen: Scare

A heavy weight pushed at him, clawed at him, ignoring the thrashing of his flailing pale limbs. The distorted surface of the water was no more than two inches away from him and yet it was so incredibly out of his reach. He fought, hands slapping, nails scrawling at flesh and hair and demonic eyes that were black, as if they had been scorched by the flames of hell itself. Spots were dancing across his vision. His lungs were burning up. He needed air with his whole being. His body cried out for it. He was not going to make it...

With a strangled cry of terror Severus jerked erect in his bed, chest heaving painfully. There were tears in his eyes, threatening to spill down his ashen cheeks. He was shaking with fright as his breath came in rapid, shallow pants. He had been having the same recurring nightmare every night for the past three weeks, ever since that night in the bathroom when Tobias had sprayed him with ice water and stuffed his mouth with a bar of soap. No matter what he did he could not shake them. His sleep was always restless, the nightmare waking him three or four times a night.

The standard of his studies was slipping, his marks plummeting like a rock thrown into the ocean. He could hardly concentrate on anything for more than a moment at a time. Even when he would sit on the grass with Lily, at the playground, his mind would wander and his eyes would swivel around like those of a frightened bird on the lookout for an enemy. Mr Evans and Lily were both baffled, asking him questions that he could not answer for fear of what Tobias would do if he ever found out.

The tears eventually slipped free of his eyelashes and, pulling his knees up to his chest in a tight embrace, Severus began to weep. He stayed as quiet as he could; he did not want to disturb his parents' slumber down the hall, despite the rising of the sun outside the curtained window. His tears fell almost endlessly, streaming down his cheeks and the length of his large crooked nose. He rubbed at his cheeks furiously as he cried, trying to destroy the horrible evidence of his weakness.

He could not stop his quiet sobbing for the life of him, despite knowing that big boys like him were not supposed to give into their urges to cry. The tears that had seeped through his nasal passages near his tear ducts were now on their way down his nostrils, causing him to sniffle as his nose started running. Severus' breathing was now desperately choked up and he started coughing. The coughs were deep, wet and hacking, seeming to force their way right up from his lungs, accompanied by rusty sputum.

He hated to think that he was still ill. For the week following the spray of ice water in the bathtub Severus had been bogged down with a heavy cold. Severus had barely been able to walk to the Pharmacy; his body had been just so lethargic. His sinuses had been blocked, his nose had been runny and his eyes had looked as though they had been punched, according to Lily. Tobias had not allowed Eileen to supply him with Pepper Up – a fast and effective relief – but the symptoms had disappeared in their own time, however. Were they now coming back worse than they had been previously? Severus hoped not.

Suddenly a wave of nausea washed over him as his abdomen gurgled and cramped harshly. Severus clutched at his belly, his tears forgotten with the strength of his shock. Barely having time to realise what was happening with his body, he scrambled out of bed and ran for the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He was glad that his bedroom was located so near to the bathroom; it would have been mortifying to soil himself – and horrifying as well, for Tobias, when he learned of it, would have thought it was done out of spite and would have punished him terribly.

When he was finished in the bathroom he washed his hands thoroughly and returned to his bedroom. Still sniffling after his momentary indulgence of his weakness, he dressed, his hands shaking as they fumbled with his clothes. His teeth were chattering for some unfathomable reason, though there were beads of sweat clinging to his forehead, indicating that he was quite warm. He headed downstairs, clinging to the banister. Something was sapping his strength out of him; all he wanted to do was return to bed and sleep.

Severus did not feel up for having breakfast, so he composed a note on a spare bit of parchment and left it upon the table for his mother to read when she woke. He slipped out of the house, into the early morning light. His teeth were perpetually chattering and his limbs were wracked with shivers, but it did not matter. He was just glad to be getting out of the house; he hated being at home while Tobias was around. Severus walked away from the house, heading in the general direction of the Pharmacy, though it was early yet.

Severus took his time and yet he was baffled to find himself in a bog of sweat, the salty moisture running in rivulets down his face and soaking into his clothes. He could not fathom it. These were not the symptoms he had suffered when he had been hit with a heavy cold, but he supposed he had to make do with whatever work his white blood cells were doing; it was not as if he could seek out medical attention. Severus kept going; a bit of sweat could never stop him from reaching the Pharmacy – one of only two places where Severus truly felt at home. The other location was the playground.

He was only a few streets away when another wave of nausea struck him, followed by that terribly familiar gurgle and cramping. His face flushed red and he broke into a run. He had to reach the Pharmacy before he soiled himself in public or he would suffer the most unseemly humiliation! He squeezed his eyes shut as he ran, his arms swinging at his sides. The sweat came in buckets, his limbs shook, but he kept running. It was imperative that he reach the Pharmacy; theirs was the only lavatory available to him.

His need was so tremendous that he did not immediately realise that a tingle of energy shot down from the roots of his hair to his toes, signifying the use of accidental magic. He heard a loud crack of displaced air and opened his eyes, only to see the door of the bathroom at the Pharmacy seconds away from impacting harshly with his nose. He grabbed the handle and flung the door open, diving inside, kicking the door shut, to make use of the available lavatory. His abdomen would not stop cramping; it was incredibly painful.

Severus had absolutely no idea what illness he could possibly have – he knew next to nothing about Muggle illnesses. When he was finished in the lavatory, he washed his hands as thoroughly as he had earlier. His chest was paining him, getting worse with every fast and shallow breath he took. He could not seem to get control of his breathing, no matter what he tried. He opened the door and made his way out into the main room of the Pharmacy, stumbling as a wave of dizziness came over him.

The room started spinning nauseatingly. He reached for the counter, trying to stabilise himself...but it was further away than he had previously thought. He missed it by mere inches as the room waltzed around him, falling forwards. His vision went black before he even hit the floor, his consciousness vanishing from the surface. He had no thoughts, no feelings as he lay under the suffocating darkness that had swallowed him whole. He had no idea that his heart was racing within the walls of his chest or that his sweat was continuing to pour out of him as his skin grew yet paler.

Severus knew nothing for some time, until echoes of reality began to creep in upon the darkness, pulling at his consciousness, beckoning him. There were voices, whispering around him, distorted beyond recognition. He had to concentrate on these scraps of conversation and in doing so he brought himself closer to the surface. The voices were clearer now, more distinct, though their words were still beyond him. He wanted to know what they were saying, but his concentration slipped out of his grasp and he fell once more into darkness.

When at last those whispers returned to him, he grabbed them and held on tight. He refused to let go. He refused to give into yet another abominable weakness. The voices grew louder as he came closer to the surface. At last, he could hear the voices without too much difficulty. He recognised the voice that spoke currently and the knowledge of who it was sent a wave of warmth through his heart and limbs. "He...he could have died...? Why didn't he tell anyone that he was sick...?" The words were barely more than a whisper, but Severus heard them and he held them in his heart.

"He might not have been showing any symptoms, Mr Evans. Pneumonia can be a silent killer at times. If he had been feeling out of sorts, he might very well have thought it to be nothing – children can be quite foolish. Do you have any recollection of him being sick in the past few months?" This person was clearly a doctor or nurse – it did not really matter to Severus. The only person that mattered to Severus in that moment was Mr Evans, whose warmth and affection touched his very soul.

"Two weeks ago he had a cold but...but it was just a damned cold!" The green-eyed man was growing testy now, his emotions getting the better of him. Severus relished the idea that his wellbeing could affect the man so greatly, though it certainly scared him a little, too. Angry men were not to be trifled with, Severus had learned. "How could a simple cold lead to...to this?!"

"His immune system must have been severely compromised. We've run a number of tests; he is deficient in a wide variety of vitamins and vital minerals." There was a pause, filled with subtext that Severus was too tired to decipher. "Judging by his stature, pallid complexion and lifeless hair, he is extremely malnourished. He's incredibly lucky that he hasn't fallen ill previously; I can't fathom how he might have managed such a feat, if I'm being perfectly honest with you, Mr Evans."

"I'm doing the best I can," Mr Evans replied, his voice tight with some unnameable emotion. "He gets as much healthy, nutritious foods as I can get him to eat at lunch time and my daughter, Lily, takes him out into the sunshine daily. His family's situation isn't the best – though I know he'd kill me if he ever knew I said as much – but he tries to be a big boy and cope with a situation that isn't his fault and we help him as much as possible." There was something soft and urgent in his tone, then. "We...I...I love him very much."

Severus had no idea why Mr Evans had said such a thing, but he treasured it for all that it was worth to him. Very few people loved him and even fewer would willingly admit it; even his mother's side of the family had turned their back on him, though he had no idea why. Eileen had refused to give answers to his numerous queries on the subject. The...medical examiner, for lack of a better term, cleared his throat. "I think the little man is awake," the man said pointedly. So, he was.

Severus' hand twitched at his side, the scratchy linen sheets scraping against his skin. His eyelids fluttered against his pale cheeks, before dragging upwards, revealing the enlarged pupils and dark irises irises of a partially frightened boy. Mr Evans was by his side in an instant, hands finding Severus' arm without effort. His green eyes gazed down at Severus with so much warmth and affection that it took the boy's breath away – an easy feat, considering his condition. "You gave me quite a scare," Mr Evans said earnestly.

"What...what happened?" Severus asked, though he was afraid to know. His eyes started drifting closed again; he was so unimaginably tired. Merely opening his eyes and asking a question had sapped his energy. He clung to the moment, however, forcing himself to stay awake.

"You blacked out during a fever, Mr Snape," the medical examiner replied. Though he did not look in the man's direction, he gave the man his full attention with his ears and thoughts. "You are suffering from a severe case of bacterial pneumonia, which may have infiltrated your system before or during the time you suffered from a cold. We'll have to keep you in overnight; your immune system is too vulnerable for us to let you leave just yet. We will take excellent care of you."

Severus eyed the man suspiciously, despite the seemingly earnest assurance. He did not like hospitals, nor did he trust them. There was also the fact that his family could not afford a hospital stay, regardless of his condition. "I don't care what I have; I'm not staying here. You can't make me." He glared at the medical examiner with what little strength he had.

"Severus...please," Mr Evans pleaded, squeezing his arm affectionately. "Let the hospital staff take care of you, for me. Once you're well again, you'll be able to leave and you can come and have dinner with me and Lily! We'll take you out for a celebratory supper!" There was quiet enthusiasm and encouragement laced in every word that Mr Evans uttered, but it was his emerald eyes that proved to be Severus' undoing. He caved to the man's wishes and consented to staying overnight, though officially that was supposed to be his parents' decision.

Clearly they had decided to jump over obstacles, rather than tackle them head on. Severus was partially pleased; he did not want to get his parents involved more than necessary. It was already horrendous enough that Mr Evans would have to explain his situation to them. Hopefully Tobias would not put up too much of a fuss where he was concerned – Mr Evans might have his suspicions about Tobias, but he had no hard evidence to suggest Severus was being treated too terribly at home.

That was just the way Severus wanted it. He could not imagine anyone finding out such scandalous information about their household. Perish the very thought of it. Severus turned his face away from Mr Evans, his teeth chattering once more. His fever was rising again, obviously. He did not know what to make of it at all; he could not tell whether he was pleased or displeased and that, frankly, left him tired and confused. He did not fight the call of unconsciousness when it beckoned this time, but slipped into it peacefully, his arm still held in Mr Evans' hands.

The silence...the darkness was blissful. He suffered from no dreams while under its influence and it left his soul feeling pleasant, though he was not aware of it. The night terrors did not come for him as they usually did and so his body managed to catch up on some of its lost rest while he remained unconscious. The bags under his eyes became less defined, the tightness of his mouth lessened. The endless throb of fear that had engulfed his thoughts was nowhere to be found.

He was safe...he was whole and it was all because Severus, due to his father's treatment, had managed to come down with something. It was amazing what an unforeseeable event could do for a boy such as him...

To Be Continued.

Feel free to leave your thoughts on this narrative. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ^_^