Chapter Text
The long mahogany bar gleamed glossy under the dim lights. He stood tall in a black t-shirt, black jeans, and comfortable boots as he dried glasses with a towel that he had tucked in his back pocket. The bar would open in ten minutes at six o'clock that night. He sat the glass down and tied back his long black hair in a low pony. Every liquor in its place, fruit and vegetable garnishes each in their spots and cut to his own specifications, juices and sodas lined up and ready to pour.
"Sev, we ready to go?" called the bar manager Hank as he ambled to unlock the doors
"Yes. Let in the masses" Severus joked drily, in a way that he had taken to doing since taking this job a year ago after the war
As if he didn't care. As if he was calm. As if he was laid back. As if.
The bar had become his second home. He had answered an ad in a Muggle paper, and the owner took a liking to him straightaway. He had the chance to be around people and still remain unseen, working every night from six pm to two am. Mixing drinks and cocktails reminded him of Potion's work: making the exact measurements and taking care to see that each individual step was taken in order for the drink to taste the best. He had even invented several drinks of his own that had become crowd favorites.
When he left the bar, he slept for a few hours in his studio apartment until the nightmares woke him. Then he worked in a small store front that he rented from Hank, selling "herbal remedies" to the ordinary citizens of Denver, Colorado. Business boomed, he kept busy and didn't have to think about the past. He needed to stay busy or else the thoughts took over. The panic would overcome him. The depression would hang heavy like a rain cloud.
It was better to be busy.
The bar wouldn't be filled until around eight, when the college night classes would let out, the couples on dates would be done with dinner, and the night crowd would begin to crawl out of their homes. He sat on a stool with his book and waited.
Eight o'clock rolled around and the regulars trickled in. Working men and women who wore their uniforms, college kids who needed a cheap beer, and parents who needed to reclaim a part of their independence away from their children.
And finally, one solitary woman who walked in every night since he began this job between nine and eleven thirty. Hank called her Doc. She ordered two scotch and sodas while huddled in the corner bar seat with a book until one am. Hank informed him she drank for free and while she always left him a great tip, he had no other answers.
The crowds seemed to know and respect her, acknowledging her yet giving her space. She didn't engage in unnecessary chatter, but she wasn't rude. He understood that.
"Sev, my man! That focus drink you made me was the best!" complimented one of the college students, Alvin, reaching out to shake his hand over the bar.
Sev. A name that seemed cool, much more intriguing than his real name. A new persona. A shield to his insecurities. People liked Sev better than Severus. Hell, he liked Sev better than his old self.
"I'm glad it worked well. Tell me when you need a refill" he told Alvin, knowing that the mixture would work, it was a wit sharpening potion.
Muggles didn't believe in magic, but they believed in herbal remedies. They believed in natural cures and homeopathy. He loved his magic, it was something that set him apart but it was also something that he needed a break from.
Admittedly, he waited on Doc to come in. She kept to herself, caramel brown hair plaited in a French braid, heart shaped face leaning against the wall as she sipped her drinks and read from massive books, highlighter or pen in hand.
He had no courage to speak to women. He found her attractive, but he didn't want to intrude on her space. Men did that to her every night and she sent them away each time. He wanted to use Legilimency, but that wasn't fair. Not to someone who couldn't defend their mind. Not to someone who didn't even know that it was possible to be infiltrated.
Vodka on the rocks, gin and tonic, stout beer on tap, Manhattans and Cosmos...The night flew by and Doc strode in, her face set in stone.
"Hey Doc" he greeted her, setting out her usual scotch and soda on the rocks
"Hey Sev. Can you make the next one a double please?" she asked tiredly, leaning against the wall as she opened her binder full of papers
"Rough night?" he asked rhetorically, not expecting an answer
"It's always rough. Tonight was a disaster. Keep them coming please" she replied back quickly, downing her drink in one gulp
This was out of character for her; she seemed out of control and upset. Usually she sat stoic yet kind. He refilled her glass and moved down the row to the other customers. The night progressed and several men approached her, smelling the opportunity to weasel their way in through her emotional cracks. But, she didn't accept the drinks, she ignored the men and eventually Hank threw them out because they wouldn't quit.
They weren't the regulars, those people knew better. They knew Hank would kick their ass if they messed with her.
Doc sat in the seat, admirably holding her liquor until she was the last one left at last call.
"Do you have a ride?" he asked her curiously as she shut her binder
"I only live two blocks away. I can walk" she told him, standing up and immediately falling to the floor
He hurried over, helping her stand up. She couldn't walk home this way. He met Hank's eyes, wisened and sage and shrugged his shoulders.
"Sev should walk you home Doc. You're not looking too good tonight" Hank called over to her, his massive body akin to a muscled wall, bald head shining under the lights.
A soft man underneath a brick exterior.
"I don't need help" she argued annoyedly, determined to walk across the room, but failing
"You can fumble around in your own place, but not here. Let's just get this over with" Severus told her in a strict tone, feeling as if she was a student rather than a doctor
She sighed, rolling her eyes and taking his arm, walking out the door into the balmy June air
"I'll show you the way" she instructed as they walked down the quiet street, no cars and no people.
That was fine. He didn't want to talk, he didn't need to show his incompetence. He didn't want her to see how awful he was at empathy. He didn't want to crack and care about someone. He could be a bartender and listen, but never take any actions and that was fine. Acceptable. Unlike where everything was his responsibility in his past life.
As they walked and the breeze blew in her face, she straightened up and leaned on him less. He had to admit that it was nice to feel another presence beside him. She still held onto his arm even though she no longer wobbled on her feet. Maybe she needed someone too.
"My apartment is on the top floor, you don't have to walk me up" she assured him, unable to get the key in the door to the locked lobby.
"You can't even get the key in. I'll take you upstairs and leave you in your living room, but you need help. Quit being incorrigible" he told her firmly, turning the key himself
"I don't need help!" she exclaimed, letting go of his arm and falling to her knees
"Oh for gods sake..." he muttered, slinging her bag around his shoulder, hauling her up, arms around her waist as they walked to the elevator
Up to the fourth floor, they exited and she handed him her keys, 4C. Turning the deadbolt, he looked around at the tidy apartment, books upon books lined the walls, half melted candles sat everywhere, an aquarium full of fish bubbled in the corner.
Doc flopped onto her chaise style sofa, unceremoniously kicking off her shoes, eyes already shut. He looked around, noticing a large blanket over the back of the sofa. He tossed it over her unconscious body, and locked the door behind him.
Whatever happened to her, she needed to forget and he needed to get some sleep before bottling the Invigorate "remedies" in the morning.
—————
When he first became a bartender, he immediately got along with Hank. He had no place to stay and no references to give. He allowed Hank, a fifty something retired military man, to fill in the blanks that he had lived in disguise most of his life and couldn't provide proof of anything. The bald headed ex-marine had a penchant for the outsiders.
Hank also lived alone, sometimes traveling to the next state over to visit his grown children. They struck up a friendship, always speaking around issues that neither wanted to confront. A mutual respect.
Around ten thirty am, the door to his store opened and he raised his eyebrow at Doc, shuffling into the shop with thick waves of hair hanging down past her shoulder blades.
"She lives" he joked sarcastically, continuing to stack shelves
She blushed deep red, candy apple on full cheeks before clearing her throat
"I'm sorry you had to walk me home. I shouldn't have drank that much"
He shrugged, uncertain of how to react
"Don't worry about it. We all have our bad nights"
And it was true. His mind involuntarily flashed back to the three months he spent continually drunk and wishing for death on the floor of his childhood home, desperately seeking to move on after the war while the memories sought to infiltrate his defenses.
"I know...but you didn't have to. So, thanks for not taking advantage of me" she said awkwardly, shuffling her feet
"Yes, it was a terribly difficult feat for me to keep my wits in check" he snarked back, instantly regretting it
Instead of being offended, she laughed
"Well, one never can tell. Can I repay you?"
"No, I don't need rewarded for displaying base line decent human behavior"
"Okay then...I guess I'll see you later tonight" she offered a small smile and wave as she turned and walked out the door.
He didn't know why he got so annoyed at her remark. Well, if he was honest, he understood. He didn't think he was truly a good man. Would he have still continued to be a death eater if Lily hadn't been targeted? How many times did he wish that he had just left Dumbledore? How could he have gone along with all the plans? How could a good man truly watch his friends and colleagues die, for the sake of some supposed greater good?
He had no answers. And it angered him. He always knew the answer and now there weren't any. Just a blank slate and open road with no destination. Just keep stocking shelves. Keep making the remedies. Keep on keeping on.
The night wore on at the bar and he found himself anxiously awaiting Doc's arrival. Earlier than usual, at 9:30 she meandered in, shaking her hair loose from it's ponytail. He noticed she didn't have her badge clipped to her belt.
He fixed himself to making her normal drink, sitting it down as she did
"Curbside service" she joked, a little more at ease with him since the drunken debacle the previous night
He offered a small smile, acknowledging her presence. The title of her book caught his eye "Infectious Disease and its Spread."
"Planning for a biological apocalypse?" he questioned drily, arching his eyebrow high
Looking up at him, she nodded solemnly
"Always"
His mind involuntarily flipped back to he and Albus in the tower. Always was a lie now. That servitude was done and finished. His feelings and loyalty vanished. Purpose gone. Brought back to the present, he felt the heavy bottomed glass tumbler slip from his hand as he dried it, the shatter echoing around him.
He didn't feel a thing until Doc reached over the bar and inspected his palm. A giant gash from below his index finger all the way to his wrist gushed out bright red blood.
"Hank, do you have the field kit?" she called out calmly to Hank who stood a few feet from Severus
Hank glanced over and motioned with his beefy hand for them to follow him. Doc wrapped her scarf around his hand tightly, squeezing.
"You'll ruin your scarf" Severus grumbled, hand beginning to throb, embarrassed that he had screwed up in public
"I'm an expert at getting blood out of clothes, I'm not worried" she answered casually, the three of them seated in Hank's office
"I've never seen you break a glass once in the whole year you've been here Sev. You okay?" Hank questioned in concern, inspecting the gash in his hand with a grimace
"I'll be fine, the glass was wet and it slipped" he muttered, unwilling to admit the memory had shaken him
"Doc will take good care of you, I'm going to go serve the drinks" Hank patted his shoulder as he shut the door behind him
"Wiggle your fingers and thumb please" she asked patiently
He moved them carefully, hand stinging
"Good. No nerve damage. I'm going to clean it up and tape it shut. You can go to the hospital to get stitches" she asked, unwrapping the scarf gingerly
Muggle stitching. More like torture. He could just mend it with a quick spell but there would be no explanation as to how it healed so fast. He would have to let her sew his skin like a garment. He nodded his agreement.
"Can't you stitch it?" he questioned, eyeing the twine and suture scissors in the box
She raised her eyebrow at him incredulously
"That'll hurt like a son of a bitch, we don't have any lidocaine"
He had lived through worse, snake fangs shredding his neck for one...
"I don't want to miss work to go to the hospital" he told her, lying through his teeth
"Hank won't care, plus he hates blood, you saw how fast he bolted out of here" she assured him, still holding his palm in her hand
"I don't mind. Really. No fuss or frills" he spoke bravely, sitting back in his seat
Expression vaguely impressed she nodded, threading the needle and twine through the scissors. She tossed him a towel from the shelf behind her. He held it up confusedly
"That's for you to bite down on so you don't scare the customers while I sew your skin shut" she shrugged, pouring a few bottles of water over the cut to cleanse it and free it of glass shards, bending low to inspect it with a small magnifying glass, the rust colored beta-dine came next, the contents in the bowl below his hand changing to crimson.
"Ready?"
"Go ahead" he told her, bracing his shoulders as the needle bit into his skin.
A stinging hex sent with vengeance felt more bothersome. He watched as she skillfully drew the needle back and forth, his skin closing shut little by little
"Do this often?" he asked, the weight of silence breaking him down into small talk
"I've stitched up so many people and various body parts I can't even remember anymore. You're one of the few to not make a sound though" she remarked, eyes still on the wound
He didn't know what to say. It wouldn't be prudent to compare this experience to being on the receiving end of a hex or a snake fang. A few minutes passed in silence as she put the finishing touches on his hand, wrapping it in sterile gauze.
"You're all done. Keep it clean but don't get it excessively wet. Re-wrap it with clean gauze every night. I'll take the stitches out in a week or so. I know where to find you" she stood, cleaning up the garbage, dumping the bowl down the bathroom sink on the side of the office
"Thank you Doc" he told her awkwardly, waiting for her to finish
"You're welcome" she said, standing next to him beside the door
"What do I owe for such superior service?" he asked genially, noticing the tiny bump in the middle of the bridge of her nose and the way she stood with more weight on her right leg than her left
"Nothing if you answer me one question first" she crossed her arms, chin up
Nodding, he waited for the query
"You were a soldier. Top level. Second in command type stuff. Right?"
He held back a gasp. Yes. A soldier. Serving directly under two masters. For the greater good. Second becoming first begrudgingly. First class winner and traitor. How could she tell? Was it that simple, did he scream murderer? Did his behavior scream traitorous spy?
"That question is delicate" he answered cautiously, opening the door for her
"And there's my answer. I can spot a soldier a mile away..." she breezed past him, slinging her back over her shoulder, waving goodbye to Hank.
"She's a hell of a woman Sev. What do you think?" Hank asked with a lilt, moving over to make room for him behind the bar
"She seems very accomplished" he stated vaguely, ignoring Hank's attempt at a dig for information
"She saved my son. Ran through front line enemy fire to drag him back to safety. She was the only one to do that, no one else was brave enough" Hank told him proudly
War? What war? Muggles continually fought in blood shed for profit, land, and religion. Of course, he couldn't speak considering what happened with the dark lord.
"She's a soldier then?" he clarified, fighting to remain uninterested
"Special forces combat medic. On the front lines, the first in to get the wounded out. It was considered a doomed mission to get my son out of a ditch surrounded by guerilla fighters...But she convinced them. She helped re-attach my sons' arm back on in the field hospital" Hank explained proudly, showing him a faded picture that he pulled from his wallet
Doc stood in full soldier garb, helmet over her head, medic patch on her arm, standing beside a tank. The young man beside her stood as well, arm in a sling.
"Roger came home shortly after that. Doc stayed until the end of the Gulf War. I wanted to know who my son's savior was, and come to find out she had just taken a job at the hospital here in town to finish out her residency" Hank continued on, opening up about his life for the first time in the year they worked together
"How long was that war?" he asked curiously, stacking glasses carefully
"A year and a half. Roger was there a year. Doc stayed the whole time. Deferred her schooling to serve. The town is proud to have her" Hank answered, beginning to turn off the lights
"I'm glad your son is alive" Severus spoke softly as the two men walked to the door
"Me too"
That was enough for a night.