A/N: I do not own Blood+

A/N: I do not own Blood+. Nor do I claim the song "It Ends Tonight" By The All American Rejects.

I own only this, and I dedicate it to Erik.

-Twilightjunkie1313

(No Pov.)

There was little light, it shone grey, reflected from the rain soaked clouds and stone. There was stone everywhere. The walls were made of it, floors too. The ceilings were beautiful gothic arches of smooth grey stone.

He had picked this place because no one would bother them here. For this and the next thirty years they would exist together and apart. But it would always only be them.

The tomb was cold, not damp or dark, just a biting and bone chilling cold.

He had done his best to keep her from freezing to death, he set rugs on the floor of the outer room. He had trunks and tables and furniture there as well, things he would arrange into his quarters while she slept on the other side of a thick ancient wood door.

The smaller inner room he had left bare.

He looked at her.

This was their goodbye.

He stands close, little more than an arms distance from her.

She stood, small frame in perfect posture. She wore a thin black dress and a heavy cloak, he noticed her head was tilted down slightly. It was her version of a bow. A goodbye and a good luck sealed into one formal and age old gesture.

Then she straightened her head, looked him in the eyes and tried her hardest to keep her face blank and even.

He saw right through it.

He knew that she was afraid. Her maroon and gold eyes held panic, a thousand questions and a desperate hope to see daylight again.

He steped closer to her, closing the gap between them effortlessly.

"Haji." She said quietly.

She was scared.

"Do not worry." He replied, trying to calm her.

Outside a bolt of lightning ripped the sky in half, a deafening sound shook the world. The rain poured harder, clouds grew blacker.

Inside Saya stared up at her protector and friend.

Then, without warning or explanation, she threw her arms around him and buried her head in his shoulder. He is confused by this.

She makes a whimpering sound, a screaming crying noise that is muffled by his body. Instinct and something else makes him wrap his arms around her, holding her tightly.

Your subtleties they strangle me

I can't explain myself at all

They stay like this for a while. Her cries dying into silence. Only when she is quiet again does he slacken his hold on her. He doesn't really want to let her go, so he keeps his hands on her shoulders.

The walls start breathing

My minds unweaving

She stares at him. He realizes that he has taken none of her pain away, he has failed to console her. Now she seems unsure of herself. His stomach tightens and he forces his hands to slide easily off her shoulders, he makes his face blank and eyes even.

"It will be alright Saya, sleep now." He mutters quietly.

Maybe It's best you leave me alone

He knows this is what he has to say. He needs only to be a protector and guide to her. Despite what he feels. He feels like her companion, her partner. He feels love for her.

So he has to stand there. He forces himself to not reach for her, to stay quiet.

"I will be here when you wake. I promise." He says evenly.

She looks at the stone floor. He wonders if it is cold on her bare feet.

"Sleep Saya." He orders her again.

This time she fixes her eyes on him, for a moment, before turning to walk away. The cloak glides behind her quietly. The distance between them grows from feet to yards and then she steps through the door.

A weight is lifted on this evening

I give the final blow

He doesn't say anything.

He stands still, arms at his sides staring at the space between him and the closed door. The weight of it presses him. She is behind that door, dead to the world for another thirty years.

When darkness turns to light

It ends tonight

He turns away. Part of him never wants to look at it again. But he will stare at it, obsessively, until she returns. He can feel himself breaking apart now, he knows she is sleeping. He can almost feel her mind drifting to someplace else.

The falling star

At least I fall alone

He walks blindly past the pieces of furniture and trunks full, waiting to be unpacked. He sits on a chair, an older Victorian relic and looks into the empty space between his eyes and the far wall. Beside him is his cello, snug in it's case.

He should be doing something, fighting this loss that began eating at him as soon as she turned away and began to walk toward that door.

Haji doesn't move.

I can't explain what you can't explain

your finding things that you didn't know

It was difficult to admit, or even comprehend. As a chavelier he was bound to protect his queen, stay by her side every moment. Die to defend her. But he felt horrible, like his soul had just been sealed away...

He shook himself, trying to erase the thought.

She was sleeping, on the other side of a door, no less. Why then, did it always feel like she had died?

Because, she had left him. Not of her own volition, but she was gone. She would drift into unconsciousness and he would be left to feel the ache of it.

He allows his eyes to shut, for the hundredth time he tries to sleep, to mimic his queen. For the hundredth time he fails, eyes fluttering open to stare at the ceiling.

The storm has gotten worse outside. His ears can pick up the crashing torrent through the thick walls, despite the fact that this shrine is underground. Part of him smiles, and it crosses his face as a joyless smirk.

Absently he reaches for the cello case. His pale hand unclasps the locks and buckles blindly. In an instant the cello is free and standing upright, leaning against his chest and shoulders.

Just a little insight won't make this right

It's too late to fight

It ends tonight

It ends tonight

As always, even as the notes wind beautifully out of the instrument, humming and filling the stone chamber, he can only think of her.

All these thoughts locked inside

Now your the first to know

He knew she could never find out how he felt. To place such a burden on someone was a horrible thing to do. He figured he was strong enough to love her one sided. He could defend and protect, yes. But he would never ask her to love him.

But if she did...

He closed his eyes ad felt the cello sing, a series of bright strong chords floated from it, resonating in his eardrums and filling him completely.

A thunderclap shook the world again. It brought his thoughts back.

Their existence was already too complicated without that sort of bond. He had heard tales of queens who died to save their chaveliers. If Saya ended up dead…

In his mind a vivid image of her body, too weak to heal itself, broken and bleeding on the ground...

The air was filled with a dark melody, of pain and loss set to music, sung from the most emotional instrument on earth. The one she had taught him to play.

When darkness turns to light

It ends tonight

That was why he had stayed quiet. That was how he had let her walk alone into her tomb without telling her how he felt, without screaming it until their eardrums burst from the sound.

Because this way, his mind told him, she would never risk her life for his. He would never see her last breath. He would never have to know what it felt like to live in a world without her.

Because although he could bearly handle her sleeping.

He couldn't survive her death.

Now I'm on my own side

It's better than being on your side

Behind the wood door, still awake but growing weak, stood Saya.

The dress was in a heap in a corner of the small room where she had thrown it. The cloak draped unclasped over her shoulders was a thin barrier between her and the cold air.

She felt the cloak settle against the back of her legs. It was warm and soft. She let out a sigh. It mixed with the soft melloe chords coming from the other side of the door.

She always stayed awake as long as she could. She fought to keep her eyes open until she passed out and blackness took her down.

She figured she had a few minutes, maybe a half hour left.

It's my fault when you cry

These moments, more than any others stuck with her. The most vivid portions of memory were the times she spent standing on the other side of the door clinging to consciousness, listening to him. It was then she knew how much she loved him. Always then when she figured out how much he loved her in return.

Now your the first to know

From her memories she could not remember that he loved her. She had searched for evidence in her mind over and over again, finding nothing. She nearly cried at that. She would know now how he felt, but she would not remember it later. It was cruel to think that was the way her mind worked. She could recall the feel of the door, the shape of the stones beneath her, the way the handle on the door felt cool and solid.

But she would not remember the most important thing of all.

When darkness turns to light

She felt her body slipping, her mind losing it's hold on the present. She moved to the middle of the room, slid off the cloak and stood. Waiting.

She repeated his name, quietly over and over, the sound of it mixing with the now darkening notes of the cello. In her mind she could see his face.

It was pale and beautiful as it had ever been. Blue eyes staring back at her, black hair somehow in his face, even thought he pulled it back.

She took in a breath, a deep shaking breath.

Her eyes slid closed, her knees gave out and she fell to the hard floor. Her body landed in a heap, back against the cold floor, arms and legs bent. Her neck was snapped back, face skyward, eyes closed.

It ends tonight

It ends tonight