A/N: Hello again, everyone. Thank you so much for all the support and reviews! :)

In case you were wondering, the title is a phrase in Italian. Literally translated it means, "singing as he feels".

Here I'm returning to my good ol' favorite: angsty Zarter. There's nothing better than that.

Warning: Emoness ahead.

Coldplay

Fix You

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone and but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?

##

"No, dammit, no!"

This wasn't supposed to be happening. It wasn't supposed to end like this.

When he said they would slay Apophis at all costs, he didn't mean this.

Nothing was worth this.

"You are staying with me, Zia, do you understand?"

Of course, she didn't think so.

She had ignored his desperate plea, stepping beyond the front line. Beyond the safety of the shield, beyond the help of the archers. Between them and the enemy, them and the serpent, him and Apophis.

"What are you waiting for? Get it out of her!"

Stubborn. That was an understatement for Zia Rashid.

She listened to no-one. Even him, when he told her it wouldn't work.

But she went anyway. Of course she would, and he had been a fool not to foresee it.

"I don't care what you have to do for her, Jasmine, just do it!"

It had happened so fast he barely had had time to register it.

It was her, it had to be - a humanoid form encased in a vortex of flames, a flash of cold metal. And it - a writhing coil of scales, the glint of jagged incisors.

A second later and it was over. A deafening, agonized screech rang out.

His vision had began to blur even then, rejecting what he saw. The broken, bleeding girl on the sands negated the very existence of the scalded snake in his mind.

"What do you mean, it's no use? You're a healer! Heal her!"

So they had killed the snake.

But now it hardly seemed to matter.

When you get what you want but not what you need...

The world swirled around Carter. He was squeezing Zia's hand so tight it was purple, tears streaming down his face.

They stained her linen robes where the blood hadn't - salty liquid of agony, loss, disbelief, mourning.

He was on his knees by her side, almost as if pleading. With who, he didn't know. Perhaps the snake, perhaps Anubis.

Maybe he was pleading with her.

"Stay with me." He was desperate, frantically searching her amber eyes for any sign of recognition.

How many times he'd seen them guarded, walled, pained, sorrowed, determined, cold, warm, sparkling.

He never thought he'd see them broken.

Finally Jaz pressed a cold steel flask into his hand. Without waiting a second he emptied the contents into Zia's mouth, tilting back her head to force it into her.

"You will not die on me, do you understand?" Carter never knew he could sound so fierce - it surprised even himself.

They waited for a second, every breath held.

Zia coughed and sputtered, and immediately Carter was pulling her into an upright position. "Zia?"

Her slightly clouded golden eyes darted around, focusing on him with difficulty.

"Zia. P-please. You can't do this."

Even saying it, the dread was sinking in his stomach. Horus's stubborn perseverance aside, Carter knew Jaz was right. It was hopeless. The snake had nearly cleaved her in half - horrible gouges scoured her whole torso, skin nearly black as the venom raced to her heart.

"Carter." He started when she said his name, gripping her hand tighter. Her voice was the worst he'd ever heard it - hoarse, raspy, cracked.

"Zia, please, I-"

Suddenly the loss crashed down on him like the weight of the world.

He couldn't lose her. He wouldn't.

"I'll fix you. I swear. I won't let you g-"

"Carter." This time her voice was slightly more steady, eyes still managing to convey determination even as her features were twisted in pain. "Carter. Let it-" Her eyes widened slightly and she coughed, scarlet tracing its way from her mouth. "Let it go," she finished with difficulty, breathing ragged.

"No!" He nearly shouted. "I am not letting you go, Zia!"

To his surprise, she was smiling.

Drenched in blood, torn and beaten blue, Zia Rashid was smiling at him like she found him amusing.

"I'm going to be alright," she murmured, staring across at the setting desert sun.

"Yes, you are. You're going to-" He stopped short when he realized what she meant, meeting her wry gaze.

"Z-Zia..." Carter's voice shook along with his whole body, violent trembles wracking through him.

The smile faded somewhat, and she squeezed his hand weakly. "Thank you."

It was whispered - so quiet he almost missed it despite being barely a foot away. But he heard, locked in her gaze. Her eyes were like amber, and he felt like a fly - trying to escape but slowly drowning in pools of gold.

It struck him that it was probably the last time he would see the color.

"Ha-tep," he choked.

"Yes, Carter." She closed her eyes, lips turned up. "Peace."

Her hand went slack.

Everyone was quiet. There was dead, complete stillness. Silent grief filled the air, dozens of salty drops quenching the dry desert soil.

He wasn't quite sure how long he sat there. Longer than the others - though they sat hours, he kept complete vigil. The sun sank beneath the dunes, and still he stayed; the moon rose to the center of the inky black sky, and still he stayed; even when morning painted the sand pink he was kneeled by her form.

It was no particular moment when he finally rose, releasing the hand which had long since gone cold.

The one person he gave himself to.

The one person who understood.

The one person he...he loved.

And maybe she felt the same way. Just maybe.

But it didn't matter.

He stood there for a little while longer. Something seemed wrong. Maybe he was being sentimental, or maybe the shock had screwed up his head, but she didn't look at peace.

It was no surprise - dead in the desert where her family had been lost, where she had been trapped, where her own life had eventually been extinguished.

Perhaps it was stupid. After all, the she was a hero. She deserved a ceremony like one, sunk in the river at dawn with the blessing of the gods.

But he somehow knew she would like it better this way.

So he summoned the small flame on the tip of his finger and held it to the driest patch of her robes, turning his back as soon as the fire caught.

The others emerged not so long after, eyes wide in shock as they took in the burning pyre where Zia once lay.

Somehow it was plain to see how it happened - especially since he was sitting only a while away, watching the smoke rise into the sky.

Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones...

"And I will try to fix you."