Chapter: Prologue
Theme: Aftermath
Pairing: Anne/Grell
A/N: I've tossed around the idea of making a series with these two for a while, and I think I've got a plot I can continue. Do enjoy.
Everything I am
And everything in me
Wants to be the one
You wanted me to be
I'll never let you down
Even if I could
I'd give up everything
If only for your good
So hold me when I'm here
Right me when I'm wrong
You can hold me when I'm scared
You won't always be there
So love me when I'm gone
-Three Doors Down
There was a lost expression in those scarlet eyes, so clouded with both confusion and mourning that it had seemingly overwhelmed the soul with in it. So much pain that the threads that held together what life had not torn away finally unravelled. The remaining pieces slipped away and left the core of her bare emotions exposed and quite vulnerable.
Too much had happened, and for the soul of a mortal it was unfathomable. To believe that everything that could go wrong had, was just unimaginable. To wash the blood of life that would never get to exist from ones hands-- was sickening. So very and utterly horrid, that it caused that expose soul to cover itself with the only defence it had left. The anger was a vile coating, no better then the world that had scorned her-- but she was misery now. She had become what she despised, the colour red.
The colour of passion and love, bleeding so elegantly into the horrors of hate. Leaving a woman once sworn to oath of compassion to aid the ill-- was now raising her scalpel against everything she stood for. She cut away the pain that way, and it was growing steadily easier. The lies coming more natural and the kills were soon not enough.
Where she had killed, she now stood butchering. Where once her elegant fingers had done intricate details to sew up the cradles of life-- she mocked as she tore apart. Reeking the havoc that had rendered her unable to carry out her greatest desire. The laughing bundle of joy would never rest in her arms-- and it was with a sadistic glee she removed children from patients under the light-- only to follow them into the dark and permanently render them unable to mock that gift. Mock it like she did now, wasn't it?
It was a fated night when the moon reflected the blood painting the cobble around her that she found her companion. It was on the icy stones of another death that she found the man that came to stand by her side. He whispered so softly how they were akin-- but she could tell in those arms they were very much different. The reaper she knew was not here for the life's she had taken-- but was here for hers. She not ignorant at first, oh no. She was quite aware of his intentions.
Swearing on the very things he had no control to be at her side, and aid her as a knight to a queen. It had been the shattered pieces of that soul that rendered her unable to see his love for her. Unable to truly appreciate what he would do for her, what he became for her. She was truly lost in the veil of red coating her mind. Another mask was woven, and she'd wear it like she did for the man at her arm-- her own personal god, a masked savior following her shadow.
He was in many ways her doppelganger, a twin, and yet they were worlds apart. Even before the fireplace in her study, where their skin would meet a rough passion that was grinded against the smooth velvet of her sofas-- she knew he was hers and yet knew she could never truly have him. She had become what he desired most, dressed so elegantly in crimson life-- he failed to see the shattered soul with in her. Failed to see the battered pieces of a women longing to be what she had lost. Her god did not realize, she was all but human. All but mortal, and while she dreamed to be his goddess-- that's all she could do. Hope, and long for what she could never have, could never be.
Those hopes lead her to do strange things, things she had not done in a very long while. It made her remember, broke some of the dust off of the history she had tucked away. Her god breathed the most dangerous thing into the broken mortal soul. He fed it love. With that devotion, that simple light that found his eyes when she smiled at her. He damned her to realize just what she had become. For the love doused the flames of hate, and smoothed out the raging hell of anger. It shattered away her last defence, and let her open and exposed. But once all her layers were revealed, once her god saw just how flawed she was. He thought himself fooled, thought himself repulsed by her mortality. He could not comprehend that her rebirth of emotions came from the very own he harboured for her.
In the same breath that he loved her, was the same breath that he sought to hate her with. That hate was the final thing she saw, staring into the eyes of her lover, her companion-- her god. He took all the love she had grown for him, and used it to pierce through her very heart. As her body collapsed to the cold stones, eyes brimmed with tears that did not fall. Her salvation had forsaken her-- and there would be no peace for that tormented soul.
Heaven dare not take her, scorning the thought of her blood soaked hands. Hell curled in glee for her, clawing at her as she wavered in limbo between her judgment. The neutral part however was hesitant. There stood a woman who could lead the greatest armies over love, and a woman who could sooth a king's hand to peace. But yet, there was something else in her spirit; something hidden with in her memories. Blood tainted the passion, and passion tainted the blood. A thin string like connection fell between two scarlet souls, and placed horror through the neutral party. Her god had given her one gift that none of them could take away—he had given her something even density itself could not strip away.
