All The Love In The World

By Durga Kali

Disclaimer: Don't own, no money, didn't create the characters, yada yada yada.

Summary: When he wakes up alone…Inspired by the song by the same name by the Corrs, so sort of songficy.  Implied slash.

Feedback: PLEASE!!!  I need this stuff!!  All writers do.  If they tell you differently, they are LYING, lying through their teeth!!!

Rating: PG

                My room is dark, and I don't know what's caused me to wake up.  Still not fully awake, I roll over and reach for the warmth that should be there.  When I find nothing but cold empty space, I remember.  I don't want to, and I fight the horrible swim of reality that threatens to drowned me.  I don't want those cold hateful truths, not now, not ever.

                It takes me a moment, but I realise what woke me.  My sensitive ears pick up the sound of music from the thin walls.  My neighbour is even more nocturnal than I am, and plays her music deep into the early hours of the morning.  I've thought of complaining, but then I remember how thin the walls are here.  It's not my neighbour's fault that one can hear everything through them--even if one did not have heightened senses.  Anyhow, for the most part, the music that she chooses is usually in good taste.

                But right now, I could strangle her.

                She must have just bought a new CD, so she plays it over and over again.  I wouldn't mind it so much if it wasn't for that one song.  Most of the songs are all right, and the instrumental that's at the end is really quite beautiful, but it's that one song that ruins everything for me.

                And it's just my bad luck that that particular song seems to be her favourite.  She sings to it, and plays it more then any other song on her CD.

                It's that song that I have woken up to.  It's that song, the one that reminds me too much of reality and the cold emptiness next to me.

                And I hate it.  It's too real, too close to the hollow space that was my heart.  It makes the pain come swimming out of the hole I've tried to bury it in with the knowledge of too crowded beds and insanely perfect pleasures.

                'Still I believe…' The woman in the CD sings, and I shove my head under my pillow, trying to drown out the echo of the other females whose slightly breathy voices coo 'I'm missing.…'

                It doesn't work.  I still hear the song.

                'I'm missing something real…

                I need someone who really sees me.'

                Unbidden, a face rises in the small space between my eyes and my eyelids.  It sits there for a moment, then the unshed tears clear it from my view.

                'Don't wanna wake up alone anymore

                Still believing you'll walk through my door.'

                I stuff my fingers into my ears.  The pain that was rising in me was unbelievable.  It was almost worse then thinking that I heard those familiar distinctive footsteps.  I hated this song.  It never failed to remind me that I would wake up alone, now and forever until the end of time.

                I had to pull my fingers out of my ears so I could shift my pillow so that I could breath.  I hated myself the moment I let my traitorous ears to their own devices.  I had accidentally exposed myself to the part of the song I hated the most.

                'Love's for a lifetime, not for moment

                So how could I throw it away

                Yeah, I'm only human

                And the nights grow colder

                With no-one to love me that way

                Yeah, I need someone who really sees me…'

                I feel the tears begin their familiar path down my cheeks.  And it's in those moments, when my tears come again, that I hate everything.  I hate myself for not being strong enough to able to change the events that led up to my emptiness, I hate the song for reminding me of what I have lost, I hate house-elves for the part they played in the ripping away of my heart, I hate Harry for his stubborn streak that led him to ask no questions, I hate that crazy woman that threw that spell, I hate that hex, and I hate, hate, HATE that gate.  I think I hate that gate the most, though that fanatical female is a very close second.

                After the tears have collapsed in exhaustion, I am too emotional worn to care about anything, much less hate it.  All the passions that made me human left me when my heart was killed.  The spell didn't hit me, but the effects are almost the same.  My body may be alive, but my soul is dead.

                I curl around my pillow, wishing that it would give back heat as well as take it.  I hear the song end, and I know what they are singing about, only--like all love songs and stories--it forgets to mention what happens when you give all the love in the world, and all the love isn't enough to stop death.

~~The End~~