Round Robin: The Basement **COMPLETE **
This, Petunia realized, was way worse than the gash on Snape's arm. Blood had already soaked through his trousers, creating a widening puddle on the floor. Her first instinct was to scream for help, her mouth opening to do just that before she realized how useless it would be.
"Don't just stand there. Do something!"
She dropped to her knees beside him, fighting an awful wave of nausea as she inspected the wound. Bits of fabric were stuck inside it, making it clear that it wasn't just a simple matter of wrapping it up.
"What are you doing?" Snape said, sounding rather queasy himself.
"Hold on."
Petunia grabbed the first aid kit, retrieving the tiny pair of scissors along with a set of tweezers. This would no doubt be the most disgusting thing she'd ever done, but really, what choice did she have? If she didn't at least try to help him, Snape would probably tell everyone she'd stabbed him on purpose.
"Those look sharp."
"Of course they're sharp! Now hold still."
To her surprise, Snape didn't argue, his body as rigid as a statue as she cut a hole in his trousers. She tossed the bloodsoaked circle of fabric aside, gagging as she used the tweezers to pull the remaining fibers from his wound. It was still bleeding, though not quite as profusely. She wrapped gauze around it as tightly as she could manage, glancing up as Snape grunted in protest.
"Too tight."
"It's supposed to be tight," she said. "It's to stop the bleeding."
"Yeah, but I can't…" Snape grimaced, making a clumsy attempt to get up.
"Don't put any weight on it!" she snapped, pushing down on his shoulders as he gave it another try. It was horrible timing on both parts, Petunia howling as his impossibly hard skull slammed into her nose.
Petunia grabbed her nose as her eyes began to water. "Y-you stupid--" She couldn't finish her sentence as the sheer absurdity of the situation and her complete failure at handling it hit her like a bus. She slumped down on the stairs, onto the floor in front of Snape, and started crying.
"... Petunia," Snape said, tapping her on the shoulder, "You--"
"Leave me alone!" she shouted. "We're stuck down here for five hours, and we can't even go two without stabbing each other and breaking each other's noses, and Lily's gone, and I just wanted to watch the telly--"
"You're sitting in my blood," Snape finished, gesturing down at the floor.
Petunia's eyes widened as she looked down, her dress now reddened. The smell of iron was starting to grow stronger, and she felt her stomach heave. She clamped her hand over her mouth, trying not to vomit, but it was all too much. Something hot and acidic shot up her throat, and she vomited on the floor.
"... bloody hell," Snape muttered.
Suddenly, Severus regretted eating those crisps. His stomach gave a sickening flip flop, the acrid smell of vomit invading his nostrils as he took a deep, shaky breath.
"Petunia…"
She didn't respond, still heaving up what appeared to be a five course meal. Realizing it had been a mistake to look down at the mess, he lurched forward, throwing up right next to her. He tried to push his hair out of the way, but it was too late for that. By the time he'd finished, he was covered in a disgusting mixture of vomit and blood.
For the first time, he was almost glad that Lily wasn't there. He hated the thought of her seeing him this way, and of course, it didn't help that he smelled even worse than he looked. What would happen when someone finally came along to open the door? She'd be waiting just outside, no doubt, which meant…
"Is there anything down here I can use to clean myself up?"
"You bathe?" Petunia said, her voice still raspy from vomiting. "I would've never guessed."
For once, he let the insult pass, his eyes scanning the basement. There was no bathroom, no sink, not a single drop of water as far as he could see. There were at least a dozen more cans of pop, which he briefly considered before he rejected the idea. He was already a stinking mess… no sense in turning himself into a stinking, sticky mess.
"What are those?" he said, pointing to a pair of square metal boxes. They were quite large, making him wonder if they were some sort of storage device.
"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you've never seen a washer and dryer."
The only word that registered was "wash". Severus stared at them with renewed interest, frowning as he turned back to Petunia.
"No, I haven't," he admitted. "What do they do?"
"Wash clothes, obviously. You mean you never…" Petunia wrinkled her nose, looking disgusted.
"My mum washes them in the bathtub."
"The bathtub?! What kind of pathetic…"
"So we can use those to clean off our clothes?" he said loudly, cutting her off.
"Suppose so," she said, "though there's only one problem."
"What's that?"
"We don't have anything else to wear."
Severus felt his face grow hot as he realized what washing their clothes entailed. "... you mean...."
"Yes," Petunia said stiffly. "We'd end up... you know...."
"... well... bugger...." Severus stared back at the washing machine. "We have one of two options: we can either sit in our filth until your parents come home, or we can mop up what we can and wash everything in the washer. If we chose the latter, we'd have to figure out how we avoid looking at each other. Are there any towels down here?"
Petunia looked around. "There's a couple over here," she said hesitantly.
"Right... good." Severus counted the number of towels... ah, literally a couple. Two. "Should we clean up the mess on the floor?"
"Of course, we ought to," Petunia said, seemingly regretting it as she covered her mouth to stifle a gag.
"Then... if we could mop it up with our clothes, we might be able to spare the towels." Severus looked down at his ruined clothes. "So... who's undressing first?"
"I'm not," Petunia said quickly.
Severus knew she was going to say that, but he wished he didn't have to be the first to undress. There were a few scars on his back and chest he was sensitive about, and the last thing he needed was for Petunia of all people to see them. "Don't look," he said quietly.
Severus swiftly realized he had a problem. Not only did the bandage on his thigh make movement awkward, but it also prevented him from removing his trousers. He almost wanted to say "forget it" and wait for the adults to get home, but he couldn't help imagining the look on Lily's face when she saw him.
"Can you help me?"
"With what?"
"The bandage," he said. "I can't undress with it wrapped around my leg."
"Bloody hell," Petunia muttered under her breath. Nonetheless, she did as he asked, unwinding the gauze and dropping it on the floor. He waited for her to turn around and then stood up, unbuttoning his trousers…
"OOF!"
"What?" Petunia said, looking back over her shoulder.
Without question, it was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to him. He'd stood up too fast, not realizing that the tight bandage had caused his leg to fall asleep. It had given out without warning, landing him flat on his ass with his trousers around his ankles. Now here he was, flailing in a mess of blood and vomit, and what did Petunia do?
She burst into laughter.
"Shut up! It's not funny, you…"
He was about to rattle off a string of insults when he noticed something strange. It wasn't Petunia's mocking laughter he was hearing, but something different, as if she was laughing at the absurdity of the situation rather than him. This was further confirmed when she held out a hand to help him up, making sure he was steady before she let go.
"Have you gone daft?" he asked her, even more confused when she handed him a towel. He used it to cover his well-worn underpants, checking to make sure his wound wasn't bleeding again.
"Probably," she said, still snickering to herself.
"But you… you hate me."
"And you hate me."
"Yeah," he agreed.
"You think I'm a stupid Muggle."
"And you think I'm a freak."
She nodded, not bothering to deny it as she bent down to wipe the floor with his discarded trousers. He removed his shirt, careful to place most of his weight on his good leg as he leaned over to help her.
"You know," she said after a moment, "even enemies call a truce from time to time. Maybe we could… I mean, just until we get out of here…"
Severus was taken aback. This might have been the first time Petunia was... genuinely nice to him. "... alright," he said warily. "Just... try not to stab me within the next three hours."
"But what about after three hours?"
"Fair play."
The two of them mopped up the mess on the floor, or as much as they could manage, with Severus's clothes before putting them in the washer.
"Don't look," Petunia said, holding up the towel around her waist.
Severus turned away from her as he heard her undress, and it hit him how much explaining they would have to do as to why they were almost completely naked in the basement. It would be bad enough if Mr. or Mrs. Evans walked in on them, but if Lily did... "Are you almost done?" he asked.
"One moment." The door to the washer opened, and Severus heard it slam shut after a bit. "Alright, I'm covered."
Severus turned to face Petunia, seeing that she was wearing the towel high enough to cover her chest but low enough to cover... well, everything else. "... what do we do now?" he asked.
Petunia glanced around, cringing as she imagined her mum's reaction when she got home. Their efforts to clean up had been insufficient at best, the concrete floor still smeared with all manner of disgusting things. It didn't help that Snape looked like he'd been hit by a truck, both eyes blackened, his face swollen and bruised. He had a gash on his arm, not to mention a bloody stab wound, and despite his efforts to fix it, his nose had clearly been broken.
"How are you feeling?" she asked him, careful not to let too much concern creep into her voice.
"Well, my tooth's stopped hurting…"
She'd forgotten about the tooth, adding it to the list of his injuries.
"What about all the other stuff?"
"Not bad." He shrugged. "Anyway, I'm used to it."
"Used to what?" she said. "Getting stabbed?"
"No, I meant…" He trailed off, clearly uncomfortable. "Nevermind."
Petunia knew she should leave it alone. It was none of her business, nor was she supposed to care. So what if he had scars on his back, marks that had nothing to do with knicking himself with a crowbar or tumbling down the stairs? It didn't necessarily mean…
"Why?"
"What?" he said.
"You said you're used to getting hurt. Why does it happen so often?"
Again, he shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes. "I'm clumsy."
Snape was a lot of things, but "clumsy" wassn't one of them. She'd always known him to be graceful, unusually so for a teenage boy, his movements quiet and deliberate as if he was trying to attract as little attention as possible. It was one of the reasons she called him "creepy", especially when he appeared without warning.
"That isn't true, and you know it. What…"
"Drop it," he said, with an edge to his voice she'd never heard before. He started to say something else, only to stop as they heard the phone ringing from the floor above.
"Lily!" she shouted as Snape winced and covered his ears. "Lily, answer the PHONE!"
The phone rang at least ten more times, finally tapering off into silence.
"She didn't hear it," Snape said, his eyes glued to the door. "Your phone's louder than the TV, isn't it?"
Petunia was starting to consider Snape's earlier concerns. "We need to get out of here," she said, picking up the screwdriver once more.
"Counterclockwise," Snape said, although he sounded less condescending and more anxious. "Take your time. Don't want it slipping again."
Petunia fit the screwdriver in place and turned it counterclockwise, but she found that it was stuck. "I-I can't," she said.
"Let me see." Snape came up beside her and leaned forward, balancing on one foot as he rested a hand against the wall. "You were turning it the other way before, right?"
Petunia nodded.
"I think you drove it in too far. Can you try the other screw?"
Petunia did as Snape suggested and started unscrewing the other one, and her heart leapt with joy as she found it untwisting out from the wood. "It's working!" she exclaimed as it fell out and down the steps.
Snape seemed to shift his weight a bit as he began jiggling the doorknob. "Damn," he muttered to himself. "The other screw needs to come out first. If I press the plate against the door really hard, the screw might become easier to turn." He went to press both hands on the plate of the doorknob before saying, "We might have to swap places."
"Right; step back a bit." Petunia moved in front of Snape as he stepped back.
"There-- AHH!!!"
Petunia spun around as she saw Snape fall down the staircase, grabbing his good foot... or what once was his good foot, had there not been a screw sticking out of it.
Lily opened her eyes, fighting against an intense wave of drowsiness as she struggled to orient herself with her surroundings. Her schoolbag. The potion. Suddenly, she remembered, whimpering as she felt a sharp twinge of pain in her leg. She wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but then she heard a yell from downstairs. Was that…
"Severus?"
The rest of it came back to her, eyes widening as she remembered the basement, the door, the thunderstorm, and the mirror. The power had come back on, thankfully, but it was clear that Severus and Petunia were still trapped in the basement. How long had she been asleep? She glanced at the clock on her bedside table, groaning as she saw 12:00 AM blinking at her in bright green letters. Great. That was really helpful. How was she supposed to…
She lost her train of thought, struggling to remain conscious. Too much potion… she shouldn't have…
Forcing her eyes to remain open, she dragged herself across the floor and out into the hall. She made it to the top of the stairs, dozing off for a couple minutes before she resumed her efforts. Slowly, carefully, she turned herself around, clinging to the banister as she lowered her good knee to the first step. She managed to descend the second and third, careful not to put any weight on the leg that was broken. It seemed to take hours, possibly days, though finally, finally, she made it to the bottom.
She knew she wasn't in any condition to help Severus and Petunia. Even if she had brought the bobby pins, which she hadn't, she knew better than to even try and stand up. Hell, she could barely crawl at this point, having used what little energy she had to get down the stairs. Sleepy, so sleepy… if she could just get to the kitchen, find some way to knock the receiver off the wall…
Summoning up a final bit of willpower, Lily dragged herself across the foyer, inching her way into the kitchen. So close now, but she needed a minute to rest…
She might've been strong, but the potion was stronger. She made one last, feeble attempt to fight it, surrendering with a sigh as her eyes drifted closed.
"Hold still," Petunia said in a panic as she grabbed Snape's ankle. His eyes were tightly shut, his teeth bared as he breathed in intermittent hisses. The screw had gone into his foot, but the grooves in the screw had prevented it from going all the way in. She was beginning to feel nauseous again just from looking at it, but she was prepared with the gauze almost at once. "I-I need to pull it out."
Snape nodded hurriedly, letting go as he bit down on his towel, which had fallen off during his descent.
"Ready?"
Snape nodded again, firmly clamping down on his mouth with both hands.
Petunia took the screw in hand, fighting Snape's reflex to pull away, and quickly pulled it out. Snape bit down a yelp, pressing the towel into his face, as Petunia quickly began wrapping up the foot. Now that he was prone, she once again noticed the various markings on him. Focusing back on what she was doing, she quickly tightened the wrappings and said, "Don't stand on it."
Snape pulled the towel away shakily. "... I ask for three hours...."
"I didn't know the screw fell point-up," she said. "Anyway, I'll try to... damn, you were supposed to press on the plate, weren't you?"
"Maybe...." Snape seemed noticeably more fatigued. "... crowbar?"
Crowbar? Crowbar! Petunia could wedge the crowbar behind the bit of the plate that was no longer screwed to the door, rip it off, and dismantle the lock! "I think I can do that," she said, going over to pick up the crowbar, cleaning it a bit, and marching up the steps.
