Disclaimer: unfortunetly, I own nothing.
So I wrote this A LONG time ago..edited it and reposting it.. I dunno why.
Severus Snape sat in his study, glaring at nothing in particular. He gulped down his third shot of Firewhiskey. Usually he was more of a wine man, but tonight he needed something stronger, he needed to forget. I killed Albus Dumbledore, he thought pouring his fourth shot. He was my only real friend, my mentor. He alone knows the true reason as to why I switched sides. He alone knows the regret of relaying on the contents of the prophecy to the Dark Lord. He alone knew about my love for the woman with stunningly red hair and the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. For 17 god-damn years he kept my secret! Severus slammed down the fourth shot. He trusted me...trusted me to kill him, even though he knew it would kill me. Selfish bastard.
He got up abruptly and started pacing the room, the slightly spinning room. But Severus ignored the spinning, it did not matter to him. Nothing matters. He thought bitterly. I killed him. Severus got rewarded by the Dark Lord. He was congratulated by all his fellow death eaters. He had to smile and cheer along with them, all the while wanting to break down and weep. But Severus didn't weep. Men didn't weep. His father had always told him. Albus wept, and he was a man. He was the greatest man.
"AHHH!" Severus yelled in frustration, pulling on his too long, too oily hair. "GOD DAMN YOU ALBUS!" He fell to his knees and wept. He wept for his lost friendship, lost love he had for the man who took him under his wing, assured him he had paid his debt for when he was a true follower of the Dark Lord. He felt alone in the world, truly alone. He would forever be under his mask, his stone mask, as he knew how others referred to it.
Severus knew his heart had truly turned to ice. He no longer cared. After all, when you kill your best friend, your only friend, there isn't much to care for. Severus grabbed the bottle off the desk and chugged it. He didn't care about the burning of his throat in protest, nor the fact that he would have the worst hangover, or the fact that he would be hugging porcelien in a little while. He just wanted to forget about it all. I don't deserve to forget, he thought bitterly, throwing the empty bottle in the fire making it shatter and the flames rise angrily.
Severus fell to the ground, staring at the spinning ceiling. Is this what hell feels like? Surely that's where I'll be headed when I finally die. would I live as long as Albus had? God he hoped not. Who needs a world with all this pain? Are the lessons we're suppose to learn worth all this? I'll probably die sometime in the next couple of years, anyway, and all I have managed to learn is regret. All I have managed to do is get the people I care about killed, or I kill them myself. He added to himself as an after note.
"I am not as strong as you thought I was, Albus. I am weak." He said as he surrendered to the darkness coming to claim him fast. He didn't fight it. He would forget, he wouldn't be aware, maybe he wouldn't ever wake up. But that would be asking too much. I deserve to suffer, and dying would be too much of a blessing. He closed his eyes and let the world of unconciousness come to him. "I'm sorry, Albus." Were the last words he spoke that night, and a one more single tear rolled down his cheek
Wow, not the most cheerful story. I had no idea how this would turn out. I just Kind of wrote as I went. What ya think? Kind of short but I think I got my point accross.
Oh and the part where he wept about Lost love, i'm not implying Slash at all. Just to let you know.
I Don't think Severus is prone to fits of self pity, I do however, think Everyone does pity themselves and feels guilty when they ought not.