Yeah, I'm back. It appears I've taken over this category, three stories already. XP Well, A&D is my current addiction, and I love it so much that I have to write it. A lot of Vittoria angst, mostly, because angst is my specialty I guess.

Just so you know, this is not a songfic. I had the idea first, and then I heard the song and realized how it seemed to fit the story, so here it is. Title and lyrics are taken from Leonard Cohen's song 'Hallelujah'.

I don't own Angels & Demons or the song used, just using them for my own creative purporses.

-XXX-

You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

-XXX-

"Robert, no! No!"

Vittoria couldn't seem to run fast enough – he was always too far ahead of her to hear her screams, drowned out by the shouting crowds and the idling blades of the helicopter that he ran towards. Her legs felt weighed down as she pushed through the crowd, desperately trying to stop him. Hadn't the meaning of Ventresca's words been clear? Why hadn't Robert understood?

"Robert!"

Her desperate shouts were again drowned out by the whirring rotors. She was so close, she could almost reach out and touch him. But the crowd starting pushing her back, away from the copter. She pushed through to the front, determined. Maybe she still had time…

But the helicopter was already preparing to ascend. Vittoria's legs had stopped moving altogether. She stood frozen at the edge of the crowd, their eyes connecting for just a moment before the helicopter began climbing into the night sky. It rose higher. Higher.

Vittoria didn't know what to do, different emotions whirling through her mind like a windstorm. Anger. Frustration. Panic. Grief. Despair. Fear. Regret. Guilt.

Guilt. It stabbed at her like knives driven into her heart.

This whole mess was her fault. She had pressured her father to create the specimen. She had created the trap to make it possible, the very trap that was in a steady climb toward heaven at that very moment. Her father had died because of it, and two more people were about to follow in his footsteps. One was a simple priest, a man of the cloth who had become entangled in this against his own will. He'd had the plan to save them. And the other was the only person left on Earth who'd cared about Vittoria at all. The two would be dead in just a few short moments… because of her creation. Tears welled in her deep dark eyes as the helicopter seemed to become nothing more than a dot in the sky.

And then the bells began tolling, signaling that midnight had arrived. A deadly sort of silence hung over St. Peter's Square like a cloud, thousands of people frozen, their eyes turned to the sky, waiting…

Something caught between a sob and a scream lodged in Vittoria's throat, though she held it back, preventing it from escaping her lips. The lump clogged her throat as the bells continued tolling. She waited still for the annihilation, only one thought resonating in her mind as the tears flowed onto her cheeks.

I'm so sorry, Robert.

And then God spoke.

Let there be light.

And there was light. It rippled through the sky, bursting out from a single point into a blinding flash that seemed to fill the entire sky of Rome. A few people gasped, but most were still silent, awestruck. That silence might as well have been thunder. Vittoria was all but numbed by the sight, continuing to stare at the expanse of sky above her, the light seeming to simply hold still in the sky, no longer expanding. But another sob caught in her throat.

A deep roar from the heavens tore down through St. Peter's echoing through the crowd. People stumbled, gasping, the air knocked from their lungs as the deep burst of sound and air hit them, shaking the Vatican at its core. A gust of wind and a shower of dust followed the explosion. Then just as quickly as it had come, the light fell back on itself, imploding back toward the center before it disappeared altogether.

The antimatter was gone. Which meant the helicopter was gone with it. And the two people who'd been inside. It was over.

The following silence resonated through the enormous piazza like thunder. Everyone, even the lights of the media, returned their gaze to earth, caught in their own private moment of sorrow, of disbelief, of wonder. A few people wept to themselves, but most seemed to be turned inward now, thinking of the day's events.

Vittoria Vetra could no longer stop the tears that spilled from her eyes. She trembled at foot of the staircase that lead to the basilica, the guilt now overwhelming. She couldn't think of the antimatter, the camerlengo's brave act, the mysteries of faith or science. Just one thing consumed her mind. Robert Langdon. Robert.

He'd saved her life. He'd been there when no one else, not even Max Kohler, was there. He'd saved her from her own grief, the grief of her father's death, and had taught her so much in just a few short hours. And Vittoria had become attached to him in a way that she couldn't place.

The question of what to do next hung over the square, as people began to emerge from their reveries. Some people murmured amongst themselves, some prayed. And suddenly a shout emerged from the crowd, and took off like a wave, rising in volume to a roar. People were pointing, screaming, fainting, sobbing. Vittoria followed their gaze and very nearly fainted herself.

Carlo Ventresca was standing on the roof of St. Peter's Basilica, very much alive. He looked down at the screaming mass below him that suddenly turned silent, staring right back at him.

How was this possible? Vittoria's mind reeled as she tried to comprehend the image before her very eyes. How could he be alive? He looked battered, bruised, but real. This was no trick of the mind, then. But he had gotten into the helicopter! He'd flown it into the sky! How could he possibly have survived that?

But then she noticed the straps on his chest, and her disbelief began turning into yet another stab of guilt. He must've known about the parachute in the helicopter. So he'd never meant to die after all. But hadn't planned on a passenger…

Vittoria's tears ran fresh. Ventresca was alive; he was going to live all along. But Robert hadn't known. And he'd paid for it with his life.

This is all my fault.

Minutes turned into hours. No one was sure how much time had passed, but the decision was made to return the cardinals to the Sistine Chapel. Soon a long line of men was making its way back to the chapel, some in prayer, crossing themselves, others still singing the praises of the camerlengo's miraculous return, some simply following the others quietly, still lost in their own thoughts.

Vittoria looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder. A Swiss Guard officer that she vaguely recognized, although his name escaped her. He was guiding her, kindly but firmly, back towards the Sistine Chapel. She didn't look at him, barely noticing his presence. She felt distended from reality, like she was walking on air. Maybe this was all a dream, and she would wake up back at CERN, ready to begin another day's work.

She could no longer speak; she felt weak all over, drained physically and emotionally. This all felt so wrong. Her own creation used a weapon, the result being the deaths of the people closest to her and a show of dangerous power that the entire world had witnessed together. It was bringing people together, but tearing Vittoria apart.

It seemed as though no one could understand what she was feeling. Vittoria gazed out the square full of confused people one last time before being taken inside. They hadn't felt the personal responsibility for the night's loss on their shoulders. Vittoria Vetra had never felt so alone in all her life.

The Swiss Guard who had so kindly taken her inside, away from the spotlights and media and noise outside, motioned toward a bench in the hall outside the chapel as the last cardinals made their way inside. He spoke to her kindly, and she strained to understand, the words not connecting between her ears and her brain. She nodded vaguely, sitting on the cushions, numbed to the core.

The doors to the Sistine Chapel closed, leaving no light in the hall but a few candles a long way off. Vittoria relished the darkness, the silence. Finally she could just be alone.

She'd gathered up enough composure to face the crowds, but it began to crack at the edges as she let her mind slowly scroll the list that had begun twenty-four hours early. The list of the antimatter's victims.

Father…

The Preferiti…

Olivetti…

Rocher…

Kohler…

Robert.

The names echoed in her head like gunfire, each one a harsh stab. The voices were cruel, mocking, shouting in her head, reminding her of those who had suffered, from her own father to strangers she'd barely met.

This is my fault! These people are dead because of me!

She felt a loathing horror, as though she could feel the weight of the loss on her shoulders, the blood of the dead staining her hands. She fell to her knees on the floor, hiding her face in her hands.

"Forgive me, God." She whispered to no one, her voice broken. "Father, Robert… forgive me. Oh God…"

And now she allowed her resolve to shatter, her sobs echoing down the hallway, surrounding her. The tears flowed from her eyes, her heart tearing in two. She needed nothing but to be here, alone in the dark, crying and begging forgiveness for what she had done.

And strangely, time continued to pass. Vittoria eventually ran out of tears, crying herself into a numb emptiness. She sat back on the bench again, the cushions comforting compared to the cold marble of the floor. She gazed up the winding Royal Staircase and lost herself.

Some time later, her attention was drawn away by the sound of an opening door and light streaming into the hall. She looked up, thinking that the cardinals had broken conclave for one reason or another. But the chapel door remained closed. She looked towards the rear door, her heart doing a dangerous flip.

It can't be…

She stared at the figure, thinking she was seeing a ghost. She immediately recognized the figure, trying to dismiss the thought. He was six feet tall, limping and bandaged, his hair dark and damp. Bright blue eyes burned with a mission, and she allowed herself the impossible.

"Ro…bert?" Her voice cracked, and she was suddenly on her feet. The figure didn't speak, but looked her in the eyes, striding to her. He gathered her in his arms, pressing his lips to hers in a longing kiss full of emotions. Vittoria felt the tears welling in her eyes, relieved to know that he was real. "Oh God… Oh, thank God…"

He kissed her again, this time with a heated passion like Vittoria had never felt before. She felt herself kissing him back, their bodies locking together like they'd been together for years. The pain, the fear, the grief… All was forgotten as Vittoria slowly gave herself to Robert Langdon's warm embrace, feeling weightless.

Finally they broke apart, but he continued to hold her, her eyes searching his.

"How…?"

Robert shook his head, gently stroking her hair, pressing his lips to her forehead. Vittoria held back another soft sob, giving herself over to him for the moment, her voice dropping to a whisper that even Robert could barely hear.

"Hallelujah."

-XXX-

Well, at least there was a happy ending. I love that pairing so much, I couldn't not have a happy ending.

I'd love to get a review, to hear what you thought of it. Thanks for reading!

-AP