Let's find out a little something about this strange man bleeding heavily on the passenger seat...

Reviews are greatly sought and appreciated... will a promise of a reply sway anyone?

Enjoy! :D

Chapter 2 – The Dark Passenger

"Are you awake?" she asked, somewhat fearfully.

The dark man cracked his eyes open a little. "Yes," he replied softly, hissing in panted breaths.

Sarah was literally speechless for a moment, feeling quite overwhelmed by the potential magnitude of the man's injuries given the amount of blood visible.

"How bad is it?" she asked, terrified of what his answer was going to be.

The man looked down upon himself and briefly rolled his bloodied, shaking hands one at a time so he could see the volume of loss spilled over his skin and examined the rest of the scene including the red stains on the seat upholstery.

"Bad," he confirmed with a soft breath.

"Oh, God…" Sarah muttered to herself, shaking her head lightly.

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to stop and take a look?"

"No!" he exclaimed urgently despite his obvious poor condition. "Do not stop for anything… anything at all!" he stressed. "They will be searching… hunting. Just continue to head north."

Somewhat relieved that she would not have to 'look' at the mess the man's chest was surely in, just yet anyway, Sarah immediately glanced in her rear view mirror for any sign of a pursuer.

The man had turned his gaze upon Sarah now and had witnessed her compulsive check in the mirror. "They won't be travelling by car," he simply stated.

She glanced at him. "Well… what do you mean… how then? I mean if these blokes have bloody helicopters or something…" she said, leaning forward slightly to check the sky out her windows – or what she could see of it anyway.

"No," he verified, "they'll use… other means," he elucidated hesitantly.

Sarah snorted in frustrated amusement at his explanation that didn't seem to actually explain anything. "What… like your 'other transport'?" she retorted sarcastically, wobbling her head in a cynical imitation. Sarah hadn't forgotten the callous tone he had taken with her when she had merely been trying to understand what was happening – notably whether she was supposed to wait for him to get in the car with her or not.

'With hindsight perhaps I should have run over the smartarse prick in my haste to get away,' she thought in spiteful amusement.

Sarah glanced at him again to gauge his response to her mockery and was met by a withering glare. She blinked at the venom he was able to convey with that one look and sucked in a sharp breath; quickly turning her attention back to the road, but remaining extremely aware of him through her peripheral vision.

He didn't hold the glare long and soon enough his expression was back to one that told too clearly of his suffering and he also averted his gaze.

"No… different again," he uttered softly before huffing a shaky sigh.

"Like what?" Sarah asked, not content to let the topic die there, quite curious as to what the man could possibly mean even though she felt intimidated by him on one hand, and quite peeved at him on another. She turned her head toward him to observe his response.

He caught her gaze once more before roaming her entire face; measuring her pithily. Quickly coming to some kind of conclusion about her he turned his head away to watch the road.

"Brooms," he then offered succinctly, with a hint of a condescending sneer evident beyond the pain creasing his features.

Sarah almost choked on her snort of amusement when she turned back to watch the road. "What?" she half cackled in clear disbelief. "You mean like a witch?" she added, this time her mirth was unmistakable. She could not help but turn back to him briefly and roll her eyes.

He caught the patronizing reaction but chose to ignore it. "Precisely," he simply replied and despite the pain he was in he very nearly smirked at how quickly the Muggle woman snapped her head back to stare at him.

"What… so you're running away from a bunch of broom-flying hags?" Sarah quipped back sardonically as soon as she remembered to close her gaping mouth.

He scoffed sharply, which he immediately regretted; the abrupt movement twinged his chest considerably. He gasped and blew a slow breath out to try to ease the increased discomfort.

"Don't be ridiculous… hags are almost an entirely different species," he informed her with a snap, his almost whispered tone supercilious, therefore revealing his attitude regarding the idea of being chased down by a mob of hideous, old, apparently barely human women. "Besides, hags cannot ride brooms; they're simply not magical enough!" He hissed in pain as he tried to adjust himself in the seat.

Sarah frowned at the man's proclamation, trying to work out whether he was being serious or not. Her common sense told her that he must be having a laugh, yet his tone when he'd spoken, plus the fact that it seemed to be taking quite an effort for him to say anything at all (and why would he waste it on joking) gave her the very opposite impression.

"But… none of that's real though… is it?" she felt the compulsion to clarify, expecting him to ridicule her for the ludicrous question at any moment. She glanced at him quickly to see his reaction feeling suddenly wrong-footed; as though her world had tilted slightly and was about to reveal a whole new reality of up versus down.

Not at all comfortable with the notion of such a potential change in orientation she fought the sensation furiously in her mind – gripping tightly to pre-conceived truths despite the perception of a fresh set of certainties pressing urgently at the fringes of her consciousness. She reinforced the battle in her mind by voicing a rationalization.

"I mean… I know witchcraft is an ingrained part of mythology and even accepted to some degree in British history but… well, there's no actual proof that any such phenomenon exists, is there?"

The dark man did actually glower at her incredulously for a long while, making her feel quite foolish for suggesting such an absurd notion, but instead of scoffing at her again he merely turned his face away in apparent disgust; leaving her just as unsure of herself as before.

"Muggles…" he muttered in scornful impatience, "you're all so bloody narrow minded – won't even accept what you see right in front of you with your own bloody eyes… always trying to rationalise the 'proof' away…" He closed his eyes and groaned softly; resting his head as comfortably as he could in his new position against the headrest.

Sarah was silenced by his edict for several minutes. Truth be told, she was stunned into mute shock by the flood of thoughts and recent memories his assertion had triggered. She suddenly remembered the eerie fog that had surged strangely around her and her car, its bizarre behaviour alone encouraging her to flee the scene – and she would have had she been able. She was also reminded of the astonishing feats this dark man had seemed to achieve with his… magical stick?; he'd merely waved the silly thing in the air and those huge iron gates had begun to creak closed, as if he merely willed them to. And then there was her car which was unexplainably, and incredibly, running perfectly now despite her fuel gauge still reading 'empty'. And now she was thinking about it there were the seemingly supernatural, frightening streaks of light that had shot out of the mist; one in particular that had hit its mark, causing apparently extensive, quite debilitating damage to the man sitting next to her.

'Oh, God… how could these things have been able to just vanish from my mind?' she questioned herself silently, alarmed. Sarah began to breathe short, shallow breaths as her mind tried to grapple with the marvels she had recently witnessed.

"So… so it is true then. Is that what you're saying… that magic is real? Was that thing that you did - with the car and the gate – that was magic?"

As much as the Muggle woman finally comprehending and acknowledging all that had occurred in front of her was appreciated by him, the dark man did not respond. He was feeling the effects of his injury more than ever at the moment. He could feel his whole body quaking in shock now that the adrenaline was wearing off and he was acutely aware of his strength failing. He didn't feel like participating in this discussion anymore, he just wanted to rest.

Without opening his eyes he answered her. "Yes," he hissed with a slight nod, his breaths short, sharp and slightly laboured. Moments later his body gave a violent shudder which forced a groan from his gritted teeth.

He felt a hand grasp him on his shoulder. "Hey… how are you faring? You don't look so good… I think I should do something-"

"No!" he insisted again. "Don't stop… head north… it'll wait," he muttered, noticing he had started to feel a little light headed along with the other symptoms.

Sarah shook her head in concern after he breathed another quiet moan. "Alright… just… just don't die on me, okay," she joked half-heartedly.

"I will do my very best not to," he quipped back quickly. It made Sarah smile thinly in relief; it appeared that at least he wasn't that critical that he couldn't throw back a little wit in her face. However, he did not look (or sound) very well from what she could see of him by the car's interior lights.

"Appreciated," she whispered loud enough for him to hear it, giving his shoulder one last light squeeze and returning her hand to the steering wheel.

They travelled in silence for a few minutes before Sarah spoke up again.

"My name is Sarah, in case you were interested.

There was a long period of silence and Sarah had all but given up on a response; imagining the man must have been asleep or something when she heard him take in a breath to speak.

"Severus," he said, just loud enough for her to hear.

"Huh?" she queried, not very eloquently.

"My name… is Severus," he repeated for her.

Sarah thought it a strange name… she'd definitely not heard of it before. But, after all, how many… er, well he wasn't a witch so – what would that make him: a wizard? – how many other wizards had she met before now?

"Oh, right… nice to meet you, er… Severus" she mumbled clumsily.

"Indeed," he muttered back softly, causing her to smile again.

Sarah went back to watching the road ahead of her. She had absolutely no idea where she was, except that she was somewhere north of the small village she'd been searching through. This was not an area of the country she knew very well at all and if she didn't see a sign post soon telling her where she was she'd have to consult her map in the glove box before she became irrevocably lost.

"So where is it I'm supposed to be heading, anyway?"

"North… just go north," he answered vaguely, with a little bite of annoyance in his tone, Sarah noticed. She got the distinct impression he wasn't coping as well as he would like her to think and was wishing to be left in peace. She decided to hold her own tongue for a little while so he could get some rest.

"Fine… no problem. Go ahead and get some sleep if you can, I'll wake you if I need anything."

He gave a relieved sigh, and Sarah knew she had pleased him. She observed him for several minutes with quick glances between concentrating on the road. He really did look uncomfortable in every way.

'Just don't die,' she thought as the man finally settled and she heard his breathing even out, suggesting he was sleeping for now. Her concern for this virtual stranger was gnawing at her insides, and escalating more and more as time passed. With another glance at the blood spilled over the man she determined that he would need some kind of medical intervention as soon as possible, else he really was going to be in danger of dying! She increased her speed a little and reached up to turn off the interior light. There wasn't anything she could do right now, so she didn't want the morbid scene reminding her of her anxiety… it wouldn't help.

The road became narrower and eventually they were travelling on nothing but an unsealed, dirt track. Fortunately it was fairly smooth and didn't jostle the occupants of the car too much. Sarah kept glancing over to her silent passenger who seemed to be still sleeping despite the bumpy ride; not that she could make out much in the darkness, but she still did not wish to see all the gruesome red blood that had seeped out over the fabrics.

The dark man had been asleep for nearly an hour and a half now and although Sarah had seen evidence of several farming estates, or more accurately the driveways of those apparent properties, she had yet to come across another car or even see a farmhouse's lights in the distance. They were essentially all alone on this road and this made Sarah feel quite vulnerable and insecure. She wished the man would wake… and soon.

She stretched herself in the seat with a light groan, feeling stiff and uncomfortable in the seated position. Since nearly an hour ago her pelvic area had begun to ache tediously; and she was now wishing she could get out a take a short stroll to work out the kinks.

Quite abruptly the track narrowed ahead of her even further and Sarah could see from the light of her headlights that it looked much rougher.

"This can't be right, can it?" she muttered with concern.

She had been instructed to keep heading north, but surely this wasn't the right way.

'Is this road still heading north, anyway?' she thought questioningly.

As she slowed the car down at the beginning of the narrowed track she happened to notice another road that continued off to the left. Unsure of which direction to take, Sarah pulled the car to a complete stop to give her a moment to contemplate the dilemma.

Unable to make up her mind after several moments she decided to consult her dark passenger.

"Hey… Severus," she called gently, "which way am I supposed to go?"

The man did not respond.

"Severus," she called, her voice a little louder. But still the man did not wake.

Beginning to get a little worried, Sarah reached out her hand and gave him a gentle shake by his nearest shoulder. "Hey… wake up."

Still the man did not move. More than a little concerned now, Sarah twisted in her seat and reached both hands over to the unresponsive man. One grasped his hand which was resting gently upon his own stomach and the other reached up and caressed the back of her fingers across his forehead and down his temple hoping to rouse him. However her fingers detected that the man's skin was alarmingly cool to the touch. In fact he was freezing!

In her panic, Sarah had neglected to realise that the car's heating was not working. She herself was still wearing her warm outdoor coat and consequently had not noticed the cold air seeping through the vehicle.

Along with that the man had lost a fair amount of blood, and Sarah imagined his body would be having a difficult time keeping itself warm, even with his own warm cloak covering his shoulders.

"Shit," she hissed… it was probably no wonder he was unconscious. She shook her head at the predicament, knowing she really had to do something now else this man could very well die right here sitting next to her in her car…

'If he hasn't already, that is,' she thought morbidly.

Letting his hand drop lightly back onto his stomach she glanced around what she could see outside the car. Just off to the left, immediately before the new turn-off was a relatively short tree with quite thick foliage considering the season and an aged broad trunk. Behind it was a hedge row that veered around to the right, effectively encasing a small area in which she could conceal her car if Sarah could squeeze the vehicle into it.

"Perfect," she whispered, reversing the car a small way and turning the vehicle around, she then began manoeuvring it into the tight gap behind the tree as far as she could back it.

Anyone driving along the road would likely be able to see the bonnet sticking out a little, though Sarah was not attempting to conceal herself from anyone driving a car; she hoped that the overhanging foliage would be effective in covering the car entirely from anyone seeking them who was flying however.

Now unable to open the doors, Sarah found the lever down beside her seat and released the latch that held her seat in position. The chair slid back and allowed the young woman to twist out of her seated position to kneel on her seat and lean over the man.

Reluctant as she was to again see the gruesome scene, she could hardly help him effectively in the dark. She reached up and turned on the interior light. Sarah would not keep it on long, she decided.

Taking her first look at him she feared he was already beyond her help; he looked so pale and his face slack, his mouth slightly open. He didn't appear to be breathing.

Trying desperately not to panic, Sarah unclasped the heavy, high-collared cloak and let it fall to the sides, deliberately ignoring the mess of his robes and blood midway down his chest for now. Next she forced her fingers to undo the top five of what appeared to be a great many little, black buttons that trailed down the entire length of the frock coat underneath. Under that was a white linen shirt… she undid four hooks that held it closed and finally slipped her small hand beneath the shirt to feel for a heartbeat or breath movements at the top of his chest.

"Come on… please, please still be there," she murmured softly before remaining absolutely still to feel and listen.

The skin on his chest, whilst still too cool to be considered healthy, was noticeably warmer than his hands or face. That was a good sign, Sarah decided, patiently waiting for more evidence of life. And there… that was definitely his chest rising a little, wasn't it? And after another moment she was sure she detected the quick rhythmic flutter of his heart deep within his chest on her fingertips, though it was exceptionally light and equally as ambiguous. She lowered her cheek to his mouth and was greatly relieved to feel a tiny gust of warm breath ghost over her skin.

"Oh thank God," she said shakily. She let her hand come up from his chest and cup his cool cheek. "Severus… hang in there, okay… I'll see what I've got here to help you."

Turning in her seat toward the back of the car, she again reached for the levers along the side and tilted her chair back as far as it would go. She scrambled quickly into the back seat, shoving a few of her bags off onto the floor, and reached behind the seat to remove the parcel tray so she could access the boot. After yanking a heavy suitcase out of her way, and rummaging about in the darkness she managed to find the car's first aid kit.

She tossed the small zippered case onto the driver's seat and proceeded to fumble around in the bags she had tossed onto the floor and retrieved a towel and washcloth and threw them atop the case.

After a small hesitation she reached back over to the boot and dragged over her make-up and toiletry bag and added it to the growing pile on the driver's side seat.

Pushing aside the awareness of the ache that had suddenly (rather alarmingly) increased in her pelvis and across her stomach where the dark man had fallen upon her, Sarah then clambered back to the front and quickly decided that the best place to operate from would be straddling his legs in front of the passenger seat.

As she gained a stable position in front of the man she again reached down the side of the seat and with one knee on the seat and the other foot on the floor, she pulled the lever and pushed the seat back as far as it would go, giving herself more room in which to work. She then fumbled about for the second lever and whilst holding the seat so it didn't drop too quickly with the man's weight, she guided the seat to recline back as she had done with the driver's seat, though this time not allowing the seat to sink as low as it would go, only about four fifths of the way.

The dark man moaned lightly at the change in position; his knees lifting a little in protest of the sudden stretching of his injury, but moments later he lay still and unresponsive once more.

"Easy, hon," Sarah crooned mechanically, rubbing comfortingly along his right thigh, before sighing and shaking her head at the pitiful sight in front of her. He was in quite a mess; blood soaked through everything, his clothing torn at the chest and descending diagonally across his belly, hanging together by mere threads in some places, and the scope of it momentarily stunned Sarah into inaction. She was quite reluctant to see what the damage would be like beneath the ruined clothing.

"Enough of this," she suddenly whispered, realising she just had to get on with it. "I've got to get this light turned off."

Sarah got stuck in undoing both rows of buttons, ignoring the gore as much as she was able, until both shirt and coat were resting to the sides, clear of the man's injured chest. The gash that stretched across his middle, from just above his left nipple in a diagonal slash that narrowed at the very top of his right hip, was horrific. The flesh at his chest in particular gaped wide and looking at it made Sarah feel quite ill and shaky. She just wasn't qualified in any way to deal with such a severe injury.

With a deep breath she decided on a plan of action.

Reaching over to her make-up case she unclasped the lid and retrieved a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, and scooped up the washcloth. Dousing the cloth with the alcohol she began to clean the wound as best as she could. Blood had begun to seep in slow pulses again from the wound at one end and this both alarmed her, yet comforted her. Whilst it was very bad that he was still losing blood after he had already lost so much, Sarah was aware that while he was bleeding like this she knew he still lived.

Next she cut and folded one half of the towel into a neat rectangle and placed it as a pad against the long cut after pushing the gaping edges of flesh together as effectively as she could and taping them at a few intervals with some sticky plaster. She then dug a long bandage out of the first-aid kit and began to wrap it around the man's middle to secure the piece of folded towel tightly in place against his chest and stomach. She was able to pass the bandage behind him beneath his clothes through a small gap between his back and the seat by wrapping one arm one way, and passing the bandage to the other hand wrapped around him the opposite direction. It was quite an intimate activity and Sarah was very aware of Severus' masculine body as she proceeded.

As soon as the long bandage was fully wrapped around the man's middle, she secured it with two small elastic claw clips and sat back on her heel, one knee resting on the outer edge of the seat next to his hip and her other leg straddled across his left leg, the knee resting on the small patch of seat between his thighs, and blew out a long, deep, breathy sigh.

She looked down upon herself and saw that she was practically coated in the red fluid that had erringly escaped from its proper place within his veins. It disturbed her to see his lifeblood spilled over her skin such as it was. But it was almost completely dry and there was not much she could do about it right now.

As she considered how she had ended up hovering over a man in her car, whom she had very likely - hopefully - just saved (or helped at least) from bleeding to death, a virtual stranger - a strange stranger, at that, covered in his blood, hidden from possible pursuers… she began to feel like crying. But before she allowed herself to get distracted by her building distress she reached up and flicked off the interior light, plunging both occupants of the car into virtual total blackness.

"Severus," she again tried to rouse the man, her small hand searching out his cold digits in the darkness, squeezing gently in the hope he might respond.

"Please wake up," she murmured. "There isn't anything else I can do… please." She allowed his hand to rest against his side again, disheartened at receiving no reaction.

Her limbs were shaking with shock and anxiety now that the previous subject of her focus had been attended to as best she could, and now she abruptly became more aware of the increasingly uncomfortable ache throbbing in her own lower abdomen, automatically knowing - understanding - that something was quite wrong.

She suddenly remembered she had better cover the man back over with his clothing, torn or not, as it was far too cold to leave him exposed as he was. Fastening the buttons where she could and after lastly pulling the man's cloak across his front Sarah decided it wasn't enough. She draped the second half of the towel across the man's chest and then removed her own coat, rested against the seat alongside him and snuggled her own body close to his for warmth, covering them both with her removed coat which was still warm from her wearing it.

Deep inside her pelvis she felt a stabbing pain, Sarah gasped lightly and clutched at her belly trying to soothe the ache with a firm rub. A greater concern for herself was now sparking in her chest and she gave a small sob of despair; terrified, worried and upset that it appeared this was happening to her.

In the light of day Sarah would have viewed the possibility of this happening with mixed feelings, even perhaps considering it a blessing, but in the midst of the reality of it actually likely occurring the whole event could only be perceived as a frightening and tragic disaster.

Her distressed, saddened emotions caught up with her quickly and she leaned forward, one hand protectively covering her belly and the other clutching a handful of dark robes unconsciously, burying her face into the plush seat beside Severus' shoulder and began to cry.

Sarah wept openly, expressively… wetly; warm tears dropping quickly from her cheeks to soak into the cuffs of her knitted top and run in rivulets across her fisted hand, her shoulders shuddering with each despairing sob.