Greatest 19

Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my books, not for profit.

Warnings: Slash, mPreg, cursing.

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Harry braced one hand on the wall as he painstakingly stripped off his cloths. His mind was on auto-pilot, if only his aching body was half as numb. Small beads of dried blood dotted his skin. His own blood – sucked out of the pores to leave tiny drops of blood all over his chest, stomach, abdomen, and back; no larger than a pin pricks. He shuttered as images of the battle flashed through his mind. The suction created by the new magic first drew the blood out of the veins through the skin and then through the orifices; ears, nose, mouth, eyes; blinding, blood-filled tears. The pressure would build, skin tearing, bones shattering, most would thankfully be dead before their organs ripped out of the newly formed holes and splattered onto the ground.

Harry gagged, unable to physically vomit with an empty stomach. He turned the shower on hot enough to burn his skin and stepped under the spray to wash the dirt and blood off. The water ran black and crimson for a full minute, then a brownish-pink colour after the worst of the filth ran off.

Soon the bruises all over his body became less defined, the rest of his skin scalded a dark red under the hot water. Harry’s body felt heavy and his mind fuzzy as blackness licked at the corners of his vision.

Thankfully, he had the presence of mind to twist the water off as he collapsed. Thinking only of the irony of living through this last battle only to drown in his tub. He hit the bottom of the bath with a bone aching thud and felt the cold, slippery porcelain soothe his heated skin as he lost consciousness.

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

Later when he awoke, Harry found himself in an unfamiliar bed. It took him a few moments to recognise the ruby-coloured valence that graced one of the two matching guest rooms on the top floor of their home.

Why wasn’t he in his own room? Merlin, his own bed would be heaven.

Harry rolled onto his side. Mercifully, he didn’t feel all that much pain, just dreadfully stiff with a killer headache. Sev must have given him something to heal the worst of it. As well, Harry noted, a pair of soft grey sweatpants had been pulled onto his body before he had been tucked into bed.

The door swished lightly against the carpet as it opened and Harry turned his head towards the sound.

For a moment, Snape’s guarded stare fixed on Harry’s vulnerable green gaze. Then the older man looked straight ahead and spoke, his manner formal. “I was not expecting you to be awake.”

Harry opened his mouth. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say in response, perhaps a garbled plea for forgiveness or pathetic words of love. Either way he wasn’t given the chance – Snape’s robes twitched and Brychan’s head peeked out from behind his father. As soon as he saw Harry’s eyes were open he rushed past Severus and flung himself up on the bed.

“Papa said you were back. But you were sleeping. I knew you’d be awake. Papa said we had to be quiet, ‘cause you were sleeping. But you’re not. Where’d you go, Daddy? Huh? Did you go far away? Did ya bring me something?” Brychan pounced on him, chattering energetically. To Harry, it felt like Brychan was screaming each word, each syllable twisted the dagger jabbing away in his head. And the little boy’s bouncing just added to the beating he had already taken.

“Why do you not go look in your father’s suitcases for your present?” Severus asked, scooping the boy off the bed and placing him back on the ground.

Suitcase? He didn’t have any suitcases. Harry frowned and sleepily tried to convey that to Severus. He certainly didn’t bring their son back a souvenir from his two weeks immersed in war and death.

But as he pushed himself up in bed to tell Severus that, he caught sight of Brychan opening up a large brown carrying case. His folded clothes, Harry assumed straight from his dresser, lay inside, as well at other travel baggage, such as his hairbrush, papers, floo powder and toiletries.

Brychan sorted through it, pulling out a green and yellow striped bag. Harry’s brow wrinkled as his muddled mind attempted to make sense of this. Brychan peeked inside and then squeaked with joy.

Trying to understand what was happening greatly increased the pain in Harry’s head; he took a slow breath trying to calm his nerves, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. “What –”

“Brychan,” Severus cut in harshly. “Your father needs to rest some more. Take your cards and go play downstairs for a while.”

The cards slipped though his little fingers to the ground; he scrambled back over to the bed. “No! I wanna stay here. With Daddy.”

Harry gritted his teeth, trying to hold back a miserable groan. The pain was fading into dizziness, and his stomach rolled unpleasantly. Brychan shouldn’t see this.

Severus watched in alarm as his husband’s skin blanched and his eyes became unfocused.

“Brychan…not…out…baby… Bry…not here.” Harry babbled softly, recognizing that the words coming out of his own mouth didn’t make sense, but he was unable to figure out how to amend the situation.

Brychan’s expression became fearfully. “What’s wrong with Daddy? What’s going on?”

“Everything is fine, darling.” Severus gently grabbed his son’s shoulder. “Your daddy is still very tired, he needs to sleep some more.” Severus tried to turn the boy towards the door.

Brychan stubbornly grabbed the blanket on the bed. “I stay.”

“Get him out.” Harry managed to hiss.

“Brychan, wait for me outside!” Severus commanded.

“No.”

“Brychan, now.”

Brychan was rarely exposed to the dark side of his father’s temper, and never had its full force been directed at him. He fled room.

Severus cursed himself for scaring Brychan. Then cursed Harry. After all, it was Harry’s fault. If Harry wasn’t in pain, Severus wouldn’t be feeling this helpless and he wouldn’t have lost his temper with their son.

Of course, cursing Harry at that moment would have been a futile endeavour. The boy was passed out, once more, limp against the pillows.

When he had walked in on Harry collapsed in the shower earlier, Snape’s heart had literally stopped beating. Although he would never tell anyone this, he had actually thrown-up before he had even made it to Harry’s side. In that second he felt more remorse than he had felt in his entire life. Your husband comes back from battle and you send him to take a shower? Alone? He should have checked Harry over immediately, thoroughly, insisted that he went straight to a hospital, he should have taken care of him.

But Harry had been fine, he had merely fainted. And Severus had been able to breathe again. He carried Harry to the nearest bed then he had run ever diagnostic test on him he knew. Checked even inch of his warm skin, healed him as much as he was able to without draining all of his energy, he needed to save some for the baby.

Severus had stayed in the room with Harry for several hours. Trying to convince himself the young man was going to be okay. He checked his pulse every few minutes and listened to his breathing. It didn’t seem real. Harry was back and Harry was alive.

But still Severus could not forgive him for leaving in the first place. It wasn’t that simple at all.

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

Harry slept all through that day, and when he awoke once more it was later the next day. Probably about noon, but he couldn’t be sure; his internal clock had been thrown completely out of whack.

Cautiously, he rose from the bed, pulling on a soft, white t-shirt to complete the sweatpants outfit. As he left the room, it became quite clear there was no one on this floor, Brychan and Severus must already be up and about.

The smell of coffee and toast and bacon lured Harry down stairs, he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten a meal, and his empty stomach felt as if it was turning itself inside out.

Brychan tackled Harry the moment he opened the door to the dinning room. His son crashed into him, wrapping his arms around his waist tightly.

“Daddy! You’re awake! Finally! I waited sooooo long, Papa wouldn’t let me wake you up! He’s being mean today.”

Harry stroked Brychan’s hair lightly, hugging him. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long. I was very tired, but I’m feeling much better now.”

Severus didn’t get up from his chair, and hardly glanced at Harry as he lifted Brychan into his arms and sat them both down in the chair on the opposite side of the table. Brychan held on to him tightly, sitting on his lap, making no move to get into his own chair.

Harry didn’t mind overly, he had missed his young son dreadfully, and his small body felt comforting and familiar in his arms. The only thing that would feel better… His gaze was instantly drawn to his husband - willing the older man to look back.

When Severus did look up, his gaze was reserved; he hovered his hand over the teapot and offered solicitously, “Tea?”

Minutely, Harry shook his head. Tea? Was that all he had to say?

There was a stale silence and then Severus pushed a plate towards Harry, “Eggs?”

Before Harry could respond Severus pulled it way and replaced it was another. “Toast?” And then quickly, equally indifferently, “Jam?”

“Will you stop!” Harry burst out in frustration.

“Just trying to be solicitous,” Severus murmured, calmly stirring a spoonful of milk into his tea.

“I can feed myself, Severus,” Harry bit out, reaching all the way across the table for the plate of buttered scones. Merlin, he just wanted Snape to yell at him and be done with it. This bitter antagonism was going to drive them both mad.

Brychan pulled on Harry’s sleeve and whispered loudly, “I can feed myself too, Daddy.”

Harry shook himself from his musings, “Of course, Darling, I know you can. What would you like?”

“He has already eaten, while you slept half the morning away.” Severus pointed out peevishly.

“No!” Brychan cried petulantly. “I’m still hungry; I want a biscuit, like Daddy.”

Severus gave the boy a firm look. “Those are scones. You don’t like scones. And you’ve already had a big breakfast.”

Brychan turned to Harry, “Please, Da…I’m hungry!”

Harry gave in without a second thought, tearing his scone in two and passing Brychan half. He and Severus had agreed early on that neither of them would ever contradict the other when it came to their child, they would remain a united front, even though they often had very different ideas about parenting. But Harry had two good reasons for breaking their rules now; he was feeling guilty about leaving Brychan and he wanted to prod Severus out of his self-composed snit.

He looked over Brychan’s head, throwing Severus a bold challenge, as the boy picked away at the food he truly didn’t like.

Severus didn’t take the bait. Their silent stand-off didn’t last long as the fire place in the dinning room let out a puff of soot and the daily newspaper came flying out.

Brychan eyed it, “I’ll get it, Daddy. I can get it for you!”

He was off Harry’s lap in a flash, scrambling for the bundled paper.

“Accio newspaper.” Severus snapped the order and the paper flew into his hand before Brychan could get there.

“Papa! I wanted to get it!”

“Go and sit down, Brychan. I’ve got it.” Severus ordered, folding the paper up.

Brychan’s face screwed up petulantly, and he turned to Harry to make it better.

“Merlin, Sev, you could have let….” Harry trailed off as Severus unfolded the paper behind Brychan’s head and flapped it in Harry’s direction. The headline screamed, 98 DEAD, NEW UNFORGIVEABLE UNLEASHED, there was a huge, full colour moving picture of Harry, blood covered and eyes blazing with fury and power, in the midst of dispatching a ghoulish looking Death Eater (with the lesser caption of Potter Prevails Once Again). Gods, how could they get away with printing such graphic violence? Anyone could pick – Brychan! Merlin, his five-year-old son had almost gotten hold of it! If it hadn’t been for –

Severus sneered at Harry haughtily as the truth dawned on the younger man.

Brychan stomped his foot. “Tell Papa to – ”

“Brychan, watch your tone, please.” Harry hushed him.

Brychan looked as if he was going to cry because of a simple scolding.

Harry frowned at his odd behaviour and lifted him into his lap again. “It something wrong, Darling?”

Brychan sniffled. “I…I don’t feel good…A…And you yelled at me!”

“I did n – ” Harry took a calming breath. “You’re not feeling well?”

Brychan shook his head. “My tummy hurts.”

Harry’s frown increased, “You have a stomach ache?”

Brychan shrugged noncommittally, “Maybe.”

“How can you maybe have a –”

“I like horses!” Brychan declared suddenly. “Don’t you Daddy?”

Harry’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I suppose so…But what about…”

“I have some business to take care of in town today. I trust you two will be okay staying here alone.” Severus cut in, finishing off his tea, the paper folded safely under his robe.

“You’ll be gone all day?” Harry questioned, sounding slightly lost. How could Severus leave now?

“Is that a problem?”

“No…No…Just remember, we need to contact St. Mungo’s this morning, so we can get an appointment as soon as possible.”

Snape looked at him sharply. “An appointment for what? What’s wrong? Get you’re jacket and we’ll go right now. Never mind your jacket, just come along.”

“Severus, I’m okay.” Harry stressed. “We need an appointment for the baby, of course.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “She isn’t due for a check up for two more weeks.”

“Don’t be thick.”

“I’m afraid; I’m just not following you.”

“I’m back now.”

“A fact that had not gone unnoticed.”

“So, we can put the baby back now. Back where she belongs.”

Snape causally inspected the hem of his sleeve. “Brychan, why don’t you go up and get those painting you made for your father.”

“I should stay, in case Daddy needs me…”

“It’s okay, Brychan,” Harry assured him, “I’d really like to see your pictures.”

As soon as the boy left them, Snape turned and eyed Harry furiously. “We are not changing her back.”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you not hear me?”

“I must not have - because what I heard was utter nonsense. I want my baby, Severus. I need her back.”

“Then you shouldn’t have abandoned her in the first place. You cannot simply pick and choose when you wish to be pregnant, Potter, it does not work like that.”

“I never wanted to…”

“What if it happened again? Someone comes along wanting something from you, will you just get rid of the bothersome pregnancy thing again?”

“You don’t even want to carry this baby. I know you don’t. You’re just doing this to punish me. You’re angry.”

“You make it sound unwarranted. Have I no reason to be upset? No reason to be furious with you? Perhaps even spiteful?”

“You can’t keep the baby from me, Severus. I want her back!”

“We’ll discuss this at a later time. When we’ve both had time to assess the situation.”

“Don’t go.” Harry shedded his pride for a moment, changing the subject. “I don’t want to be alone here.”

“This is your home. You can take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to prove to everyone? Merlin forbid you let anyone take care of you.”

“Severus, please…”

“Daddy? What’s wrong?”

Brychan stood in the door with several paint slathered pieces of paper in his hands.

“Nothing’s wrong, Bry.” Harry forced a soft smile, and teased, “Your father and I haven’t talked in a while, we have a lot of arguing to make up for.”

Brychan didn’t find it too funny, “Daddy will you come to my room and read me a story in bed? I don’t feel good, still.”

Harry checked his forehead. “You don’t feel too warm.”

“I feel yucky.” Brychan held up both arms to be picked up, something he had done quite frequently – when he had been two or three.

Harry scooped him up.

“Are you going out now, Papa?” Brychan asked, his voice muffled by Harry’s shirt.

Both boys looked at him, awaiting his answer with trepidation.

“No… It turns out I don’t have to go out today. I’ll be in the basement if you need me.”

“Why don’t you come upstairs with us and listen to a story?” Harry hedged, he needed the older man close right now, and if it wasn’t for the innocent eyes of the five-year-old, he’d be on his knees convincing Snape to stay, one way or another.

“I’m afraid not. I just received three late-18th century treatises on legilimency, in a shipment from France. I really must start work on translating them.”

“The bloody papers can wait.” Harry snapped with a combination of disappointment and desperation.

“Don’t use such language in front of our son.”

“Fine. I will never say bloody again unless someone has severed my main artery and I am in danger of bleeding to death all over your precious 18th century papers.”

“Brychan, go wait up stairs for your father.”

“But…”

“Go!” Both men commanded forcefully. Neither spared the boy a glance as he slipped upstairs, too busy staring daggers at each other across the corner of the dinning table.

An invisible force, their connection, pulled at them. It was too painful to make eye contact, so both men looked elsewhere. Harry’s gaze drifting over Severus’ abdomen with longing. Severus’ eyes were drawn to Harry’s parted lips.

A touch of uncertainty in his voice, Snape finally spoke. “I think I want to kiss you, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes flew back to Severus’ face, his comment shockingly out of place. “I don’t think you do.”

“I think you are wrong.”

“No. If you wanted to kiss me, you wouldn’t be looking at me like that.” Harry scooted back a step, trying to put some distance between them.

“Like what?”

“Like… Like…”

“Like what, Harry?” Severus leaned forward, laying his hands on the table so there faces were dangerously close.

“Like you want me.” Harry answered, his voice soft and husky.

“Ah, but that’s the problem. I do want you.”

“No, you don’t.” Harry’s heart pumped loudly in his chest, his feet felt like lead, too heavy to lift. “You want to hurt me.”

Severus reached over and wrapped his fingers over Harry upper arm, held him steady as he circumnavigated the chairs and stood in front of the younger man. “Maybe there is a little of that too.”

Severus kissed him then, harsh and cruel, the first kiss they had shared since Harry had left. Neither of them enjoyed it.

“Why are you so resistant?” Severus questioned, “Don’t you want me?”

“Not like this.”

“Of course. Only on your terms. The Golden Boy dictates how and when he wants it. Right down to the life of his unborn child.”

“I never would have acted if I wasn’t sure the baby would be safe. I would protect her with my life.”

“One would have thought that would have been easy to do when she was safe inside you!”

“I couldn’t stay here and do nothing! Don’t you understand? I did it for you!” Harry cried. “To keep you and our babies safe. That’s what my purpose is.”

And then they were kissing. No longer cool and harsh, but a kiss filled with all the worry, tension, passion, anger, and fear that they both had bottled inside. A torrent of emotions flowing between them. Their bodies pressed flush, with Severus pinning Harry hard against one the chairs, two sets of hands fumbling futilely over clothes.

Severus was the first to pull himself away, to drag himself away, breathing ragged.

“Merlin, I’m an ass.” He whispered harshly, furious at himself for letting his desire take over his body. Harry had betrayed him – betrayed him – and he still couldn’t keep his hands off the dark-haired martyr.

“What did you say?”

Severus saw no reason to answer him. It wasn’t necessary to expound at length on how much he wanted Harry, and damn it, loved him despite his deception. All he did was mutter, “Shut up, Har,” and let go of his arm, stepping back.

Harry stiffened, the tone had been soft, but the words were not. His strawberry lips parted in an unconsciously childlike expression, pain obvious in his watery green eyes.

Severus shook himself out of the enchantment. Bloody hell, it must be the baby that was making him act so peculiarly, hormones short circuiting his brain. Making him weak. “I have to get out of here.”

Harry reached out and grabbed at his sleeve. “Please, don’t leave me alone now.”

“I would leave you in hell if I could.” Severus wrenched his arm free and practically flew to the door. “To give you a taste of what I have had to go through these past two weeks.”

“You said you would stay.” Harry reminded him as Snape pulled on his cloak and boots.

“I need some fresh air. I’ll not leave the grounds.”

XxxXxxXxxXxxXxxXxxX

It was night by the time Severus came back in, no more relaxed than he was when he left.

He slowly climbed the stairs, the long walk today and the baby he was carrying inside him really taking a toll on his body.

Passing his room he could clearly see it was empty and dark. What were you expecting? Harry naked and tucked under the covers waiting for as if nothing had happened? That would have infuriated you even further, he chided himself. Mocking his own feelings of disappointment that Harry was back and their bed was still empty.

He peeked into Brychan’s room and found his wayward husband. Both of them were fast asleep, clearly exhausted. Brychan was wrapped around Harry, as if holding onto him in sleep, afraid to let him go. Harry himself was laying on his back, one arm flung over his head, hair drifting over his forehead and into his closed eyes. He looked angelic. He looked - fuckable. Severus winced at that thought and his body’s reaction to it. The pregnancy was indeed wreaking havoc on his hormones. And it was inundating his mind was conflicting urges. He was overwhelmingly furious one second and indescribably horny the next.

Things couldn’t go on like this. It would drive him mad. He would never leave his family. He couldn’t do that to Brychan or this baby, but some space was necessary. But where would he go?

More to the point, could he leave Harry now that he had the boy back?

Merlin, it was ironic. He loved him. Even after all this, he loved him. He was so furious with Harry he damned near hated him. But he still loved him.

But did he love him enough to live here with him in this painful limbo?

And what was he thinking, telling Harry he would keep the baby? He did not want to carry the baby. He wanted it out, back into Harry, as soon as possible. Didn’t he?

Of course he did. Harry was the one meant to carry their babies. It was overwhelmingly obvious Harry was better suited for it. He was younger, more patient, took better care of himself, he had also done this once before, he had the experience.

Severus looked over at the bed; Brychan cuddled close to Harry. Harry, no doubt, was also the better parent. The better person.

And that’s what it all came down to. Harry was a good person.

And Severus was not.

He was not fit to carry their baby because there was a darkness inside him he could not deny. He had done unspeakable things in his life. Surely his body would taint their baby girl. Harry seemed to agree. He was desperate for the baby back; Severus could read it in his eyes.

So, why didn’t he just let Harry have the baby? What the hell was wrong with him?

He didn't deserve to carry their baby.

But now that Tabitha was inside him...

Severus lay one hand on the lower portion of his stomach, feeling the baby rolling slightly. He then whispered into the quiet room, “What are we going to do now, Tabitha?”

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Don’t forget to review. Next chapter will probably be the last chapter, and will tie everything together. I’m really eager to start something new!

Severus will, hopefully, forgive Harry.

The fate of Tabitha will be decided.

Brychan’s issues will be sorted out.

Tell me what you think!