Author's Note:
A couple of you asked for my tumblr. Such a thing unfortunately does not exist. My best friend Cameron tells me to get one everyday. (You may be saying now "OMG, Cameron's real?". The response to such a thing is: Yes. He is very real.) I also do not tweet. I'm very unupdated.

ALSO. I do not do "song fics". The brief bit of quote from a song just made me think of Taily's situation.

Please read and review. :)

I glanced at my Converse as the music made the wall I sat against vibrate. I tucked my legs partially underneath me.

"Here, Lily." Tony held out a cup to me.

"No, no, no." I shook my head. "Not drinking tonight."

Tony shrugged, retracting his hand and drinking from the cup himself. "Easy for you to say." He finished off the cup in one gulp. "You're in Loveland."

I felt a hand squeeze mine as Tate returned to my side. Instinctively, our heads turned and our lips met. It had all become methodic. Don't let go of Tate. Remain touching Tate at all times. If you do let go of Tate, once he returns, touch him again. Kiss Tate always. Hold Tate always. If you don't, you will explode.

Suddenly, the back of Tate's throat let out a groan and he was pulling me off the ground and out into the hallway swiftly.

"Where are we going?" I laughed, letting him pull me through the door to the boys' locker room.

Tate shut the door behind us, turning the lock. "I'm sorry, Lily, I know this isn't how we do things…"

Listen to Tate. Take chances with Tate. Let Tate make you happy.

Tate smiled at me sheepishly, pulling me into his arms.

I hugged him back. "It's okay…"

He pressed his lips to mine, turning me so I was against the wall as he began to kiss down my neck. "It's your own damn fault for looking so gorgeous…" He muttered, laughing slightly.

I intertwined my fingers with his. Tate is love. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Langdon."

I had dressed simply enough. A deep indigo dress, Converse (fuck society and their heels), flesh colored sheer tights. I had pulled my hair back on each side, creating two half ponytails. Later, as I was pulling my tights back on, they still had remained fairly neat in place.

I padded across the locker room floor. "Tate? Can you zip this?"

I heard a sniffle and instantly felt a physical reaction. "Tate?" I rounded the corner quickly to find him crouched half dressed in the corner, crying.

"Tate." I hated to see him in pain. I knelt to his side, putting my hands on his shoulders. Always be touching Tate. Never let go of him. "Tate, what happened? Why are you crying?" I demanded. What had I done wrong? He had been blissfully satiated mere moments before. Now he was a crumpled shirtless mess. "Tate!" I shook him lightly.

"I don't want it to happen…" Tate whispered.

"Don't want what to happen?" I asked, pushing his hair aside, soothing.

"I don't want it to happen to you!" He stated anxiously. He began to shake.

I pulled him in close, hands pressed against his bare back. "Nothing's going to happen to me, love…" I kissed his neck softly, murmuring. "I promise, I'm right here for always…"

Why were you crying, Tate?" I sat across from him, pressed against the wall, turning my head to gaze at him.

I believe it had actually been weeks, the two of us sitting here in this room, remembering. The pictures helped. I had brought up more, any memory would help. I'd hand him a drawing and he'd stare at it for a long while. Then, he'd start to tell me what it was. After a while, he wouldn't need the pause, he'd just know. He began to piece it all together, from day 1, and now to the dance, mere weeks before his noble mission.

He didn't tell me about the lake house. He didn't remember our friends.

Maybe I didn't want to know. Maybe that was enough for me. The happy times. Anything other than "I killed you because…"

I glanced to the side, a picture of Tony and Missy smiling back at me. I stood slowly, lifting all the pictures of our little "group".

Tate shook his head as I came towards him. "I don't know… I just." He reached for my hand as I cleared a spot next to him and sat. "Something bad was going to happen to you. And I couldn't stop it."

I silently handed him the sketch of Tony and Missy.

He stared at me for a moment first. "You have charcoal on your face." He ran his finger along the side of my nose, wiping it away. "Just like always…" he smiled. He looked at the picture and immediately stated. "Anthony and Melissa."

I smiled, too. "Tate…" I scolded lightly.

"Right. Tony and Missy." Tate shook his head. "He wants her so bad."

I laughed at his bluntness. "Yeah, he does."

"He invited me to that party. He carried you over." Tate's grin widened. "They're good friends. What happened to them?"

I didn't make any move, any emotion, to respond.

Tate looked at the picture again, then suddenly dropped it, pushing himself away. "I killed them, didn't I?"

I caught him quickly, taking him into my arms.

He pulled away. "I don't want to see anymore pictures."

"You don't have to." I slowly shook my head, taking his hand. "I'll walk you through it."

He nodded slowly.

I swallowed. "You killed 12 kids… I'm not going to pretend to know what happened, I didn't see it, I wasn't there." I closed my eyes tightly. "We were in a classroom, thinking we could get ourselves out the windows… We should've left with everyone else, we might've gotten away." I opened my eyes and looked at Tate. "Do you remember? You shot the glass on the door."

Tate looked disgusted, looking down. "So I could unlock the fucking door…"

I nodded. "Tony tried to talk to you… It wasn't you, Tate. You smiled, acted like everything was fine. You helped him up…"

"And then I shot him." His cheeks became wet again. I reached out with my free hand to wipe them clean, but he pushed it away. "Missy, too. Lined them both up across the room."

I glanced out the window. "It didn't look like you, Tate. The anger in your eyes… I'd never seen you look like that before."

Tate looked at me. "Have you been watching me, Lily?"

I nodded slowly. "You look like that a lot," I replied bluntly.

"Wait…" He paused. "That's 14." He reached swiftly for the small pile of pictures I had brought. I didn't move to stop him as he lifted up a picture of Cameron. "No…" I heard his voice crack. "No, I didn't kill him, did I?" He looked at me, pleading. "I didn't, right?"

I finally looked back into his eyes, unsure how else to respond.

Tate let go of my hand, his face collapsing. He curled his head into his knees. "He saved you! He was supposed to save you!"

"He saved me?" I asked.

Tate looked up. "I left for a second. A second." He shook his head. "And you managed to drown."

My throat felt dry.

"If he hadn't saved you, you would've…" Tate seemed too afraid to think about it.

"But, he kissed me…" I stated softly. "I cheated…"

"What?" Tate looked confused.

"He kissed me." I blinked, trying to stop replaying the memory.

Tate stared at me. "First." He shook his head as if I was being absurd. "He's bigger than you and you were caught extremely off guard; you couldn't have pushed him off if you tried. That was all him."

I nodded slowly.

"Second, we handled that."

"What? How?"

"I confronted him. Kicked his ass. Fair fight." Tate grinned slightly.

I stared at my shoes. "Oh." If it wasn't Cameron, then it must've just been me. I'm the darkness.

"Where have you been, Lily?" He wiped his eyes.

"Hiding." The answer was simple.

"Hiding?" He came closer, putting a hand on my knee.

I jerked away quickly. "You never looked for me." My tone was harsh, biting. "I died in 1994, and you never once even called out my name." I laughed slightly. "Except in your sleep, I guess."

"That's almost 24 years, Lil… Why now?"

I didn't answer for what felt like hours. I had to find the response myself. Maybe because every time I closed my eyes, the first thing I saw wasn't the murders, it was you fucking Violet. I Started cutting, then killing. Then I got it, right? Tate would be the only one who would get it. The anger. The gore. It wasn't a foreign idea to him. It had been over a year since I started talking to Violet. Time was iffy, though. Until I got the computer last Halloween, I hadn't even realized how close I really was to quarter of a century. Maybe it was knowing he'd never get over Violet. Maybe that's why the voices started, so I could face that I was going to be alone….

The sun was setting when I finally responded. Our eyes were both red-rimmed, whether it was from tears or sleep deprivation I didn't know. Our skin was paler than usual; we had been in that room for so long. My voice made him jump. "Because you drove me crazy."

"I did?"

"Yes." I didn't hesitate. "I've never been so angry…" I took a breath, collecting myself. "You and Violet…" I didn't finish, for fear the tears would come.

"Then why didn't you come to me?" Tate demanded. "If I'd have known…"

I rolled my eyes. "Because I'm the darkness, Tate!" He silenced. "You were so angry!" I stood, beginning to pace. "It was me, wasn't it?"

Tate looked at me softly. "No, Lily…"

"I knew something was wrong!" I snapped. "But, I liked it. I've loved everything you've ever done. The murders and the anger and the voices!" I beat my fist on the wall.

Tate stood quickly, coming to my side. "You hear voices?"

I bit my lip. Fuck.

"Lily, it has you, doesn't it?" Tate gently put a hand on each of my shoulders. "Lily, you gotta know it's not us. It's this house."

I didn't look at him. He gingerly ran his fingers along my left arm. After a long moment, he cleared his throat. "Is this how you died?"

I felt my gut clench. He still didn't remember…

"I know me and you, we talked about the cutting…" He lifted my arm, staring at his name, permanently etched into my skin by some spell. "But, you never did." He shook his head. "You bled out from this, didn't you?"

I shook my head slowly, turning back to look at him.

"Tate, we can run." I pleaded. "I don't want them to take you… We can make it out of here, Tate."

He chuckled slightly. "You'd run away with a serial killer?"

He took my hands in his. "How then?" He watched as I lost his eye contact, gazing over his shoulder. "You can tell me, Lily."

"Mass murderer," I corrected without thinking.

His dark eyes met mine in a glare. "What?" His tone cut into me.

"Serial killers are different places…" I continued. I wasn't afraid, he had to know that. "Tate, please. Just come with me. Before they find you."

"Suppose we leave and it happens again." Tate shrugged, tucking the gun he held under his pillow and turning to face me.

"Then, we'll run again."

"Suppose next time it's you."

He lifted both of our hands to the side of my face. "Please don't cry, Lily."

I stared at him, trying to force the memories and emotions back inside. And he dies weak and alone. Tate needed to know; he needed to know he didn't die alone.

That was it. That was the answer I was looking for, wasn't it? "I trust you." I shrugged. "I'm not scared."

He stared me down for a long moment, and then laughed slightly. "You never are, are you?" He smiled a genuine smile, and the anger disappeared from his eyes. He stood and came towards me. "Alright, let's go then."

I brightened completely, wrapping him in my arms. "It's gonna be okay."

He pressed his lips to mine for a long moment.

I took Tate's hands and pulled them to my collarbone, slowly forming his fingers around my neck.

I dropped my hands back to my waist and stared at him. "It's gonna be okay…"

The Tate that pulled away from the kiss wasn't the right one. "Yeah, it is gonna be okay."

Before I could react, his hands were wrapped around my neck, my windpipe blocked off.

His eyes darted back and forth slightly, as if he was trying to read something buried in my expression. He looked at his own hands, then back at my face. Then, back to his hands, horror taking over his expression. "No…"

I showed no expression. No words escaped my lips.

"No, no, no!" He screamed, pulling away. "No!"

"Tate, it's okay…" I assured, reaching out for him.

He stopped me. "NO!" he began to back towards the door, shaking his head.

I stepped towards him again. "Tate, I-"

He squeezed his eyes shut, covering his ears. "Go away, Lily!"

I fell to my knees as I reappeared in the basement.

It hurt. Everywhere. My whole body refused to shut down, trying to continue pumping without oxygen.

He finally let go and I fell to my knees before him. "See? It's gonna be okay."

I swallowed a few times before stating, "I love you." And I meant it.

He stepped towards me, and it was done in a moment. I fell completely to the floor. It wasn't immediate though. My body refused to give up at such a sudden move.

As I lay dying, Tate had left me there.

I started to cry, alone in the basement. "I know it wasn't you, Tate…" I whispered.

No one heard me.

xxXXxx

That's the way the human mind works.Whenever something is too unpleasant, too shameful for usto entertain, we reject it.We erase it from our memories.But the imprint is always there… (Understanding-Evanescence)

It had been days since I had seen Tate. I had been wandering blindly, knowing too well that if he didn't want to be found, no one would find him. I understood shame, I understood guilt. It was ironic, really. The tables had turned, and now he was drawn into the shadows.

I had stood in the basement many a time, calling out to him. Begging him to come back.

He wasn't coming back.

I finally found myself at the island again, watching the faucet drip. I had manufactured it myself, turning the knob just right.

"Oh. Miss Lily." Moira bounced me out of my thoughts. However, her tone was smug. "Not off with that boy?"

I furrowed my brows. "What?"

"What, do you think it's all some big secret?" She began to fold the towels on the counter, her movements sharp and precise. "The whole house heard his and Violet's screaming match. Not to mention the scene the two of you made in the hallway."

"What's your issue?" A nerve was tweaked. Now was not the time for sarcasm.

She didn't respond for a long moment, finishing her folding and gathering the towels back into her arms. She turned to face me finally. "So, is it as perfect as you'd hoped? A boyfriend who doesn't even recall being with you?" She began to head towards the door. "Must be nice."

It clicked quickly. "I wrote it all in a book and hid it. I didn't mean for it all to go away."

"Where's the book, Moira?" I asked without turning around.

"Book, Miss Lily?" She didn't turn around either. I saw the reflection of her back as she tensed.

I stood, facing her. "I don't think I mentioned Tate forgetting me." Tate had told me that he couldn't find the book, no matter where he looked. "So, how would you know? I doubt you've been spending time with Beauregard."

She looked like prey, caught in the crossbeams of a predator.

"I think, maybe, you personally assured Tate wouldn't have a chance to remember once he tried to forget." I stepped in close beside her. "Huh, Moira?"

She looked at me, shakily replying, "Perhaps he didn't deserve to remember you."

I grinned. I had her in my claws. "What happened?"

She shook her head. "He killed you, and just shoved you under a bed, tucking everything away. And, with all of your hiding nonsense, I thought it best he never found you again."

"Where's the book?" I demanded harshly.

Moira shrugged. "I gave it to those little girls. I assume it was burned."

Inside, something snapped. My pictures may have helped him, but his words could've helped me. "What made you the person in charge of that?" I shouted.

Moira threw down the towels, turning back to me. "Because I know what's best!" She screeched. She pointed a finger in my face. "I've been here, cleaning up your messes and picking you up when he threw you down for YEARS. And he got rid of you after 8 months!"

I took a deep breath, walking away from her towards the staircase. "Stay away from me from now on, Moira." I began my way up the stairs. "We all know I never asked for your help."

She hastily fell to her knees to re-gather her towels as I disappeared onto the second floor.

I knew that my anger wasn't about to just dissipate. More than ever, I wished Tate would return soon. He was the only one that could help, would care.

Suddenly, a pair of arms was roughly around me, halting my track down the hallway.

I blanched, trying to pull away. "Get off me!"

Whoever it was quickly pressed a rag over my mouth.

I started to scream.

"Shhh, shhh…" It was an unfamiliar male voice. "We've already got your boy, nobody else is coming for you."

I began to feel myself losing consciousness. They had Tate? If they did, this was a very different story. The man who held me was much bigger than me; there truly was no point in fighting.

"I'm not scared."

"You never are, are you?"

In that moment, as I let myself fall unconscious, I let go of fear. Of doubt. Whatever was on the other side of this sedation, I was ready to face it.

What happens, happens. You're dead, Lily. There's no where to go but up.

I let myself succumb to the darkness.

xxXXxx

"I'm surprised you didn't put up a fight."

My eyes blinked open, meeting the insanely large brown ones that I had become accustomed to.

I quickly collected the sensations around me. Someone's back was warmly pressed up against mine. A gag was tight in my mouth, and my hands were bound behind my back. Violet's fingers held my hair back in a vice grip.

Violet smirked, pulling the gag down around my neck. "Hey, sunshine."

And instinct kicked in, and my fingers splayed out, touching a set of knuckles behind me. A pair of fingers felt mine.

"Hey, Vi." My throat was chapped, my voice rough. I grinned slightly. "How's it hanging, bestie?"

The chuckle behind me made Violet's façade falter slightly for a split second.

"You look great. Here, let's take a pic." Violet turned. Pulling her face beside mine, she held up a camera. "Smile!"

The flash made me blink, but as I did, I noticed the small crowd gathered in the opening to the next room.

"You like it?" Violet shoved the camera screen in my face.

I let out a laugh. "Oh, look, Tate." I turned a mischievous glare up to Violet. "It's me and Vi-Vi."

I felt him laugh behind me. My fingers intertwined with his tightly.

Violet maintained her crazy bitch routine pretty well. "We're gonna take a lot of pictures tonight." She turned off her camera and tucked it into the pocket of her cardigan.

'That's good." I nodded. "I like pictures."

"Not these kinds of pictures." She smirked and shook her head.

"Are you kidding?" My fingers moved, finding the knot in Tate's bindings. I draw those kinds of pictures in my sleep."

I pulled at his bindings, and his head turned, his check brushing my shoulder.

"Don't touch him!" Violet screamed, pulling me forward by my hair.

My chin hit the concrete hard, and I bit my cheek, In a moment, I tasted blood in my mouth. Before I could react further, my gag was retightened and three sets of hands lifted me from the ground.

I finally saw Tate, tied identically to me. His eyes met mine as two men grabbed him: the cheater and the guy who had cheated on Constance, who I had never been told whether he was Tate's father or not.

I tried to pull away. This wasn't fair. Thos men were bigger than Tate. I could've easily torn from Violet. Two sets of hands I escaped from, but one held strong, gripping my shoulders in a way that also pressed hard against my collar bone.

The absolute fear in Tate's eyes made me still. His gaga muffled a mix protests and screams. I knew, staring back at him, that this wasn't for his own good. He was afraid for me. As strong as I was, three on one, the one being tied, was practically an impossible feat.

"Say goodbye to your girlfriend," the cheater taunted, pulling down the gag.

"Violet you're a coward!" Tate screamed. "You face me, don't you touch her!"

I remained calm, trying to look strong in my gaze. I pulled toward him again and the strong pair of hands only kept me in place. They must be a man's… Perhaps Chad, the cheater's poor victim.

"Don't you touch her!" Tate was crying now. I felt myself ache, struggling to get myself free. "This isn't fair, Violet!"

The hands lifted me, now gripping around my stomach. My feet weren't touching the floor. I began to kick backwards, looking for a crotch shot.

"Lily, I'm sorry!" Tate screamed as they began to pull me into the next room. "Lily, I'm sorry I did it!"

I stilled, staring at him.

Suddenly, the door to a nearby closet was opened. "Lily, I'm sorry!"

I finally spit out my gag. "Tate, I forgive you. You know I always forgive you."

"Violet, leave her alone!" Tate was sobbing. "Lily!"

I was thrown into the closet, my knees scraping roughly on the cement as I landed.

The door slammed. Complete darkness and silence other than the breathing whatever size crowd was packed in here overtook me.

I heard the sound of a match being struck, the flickering light breaking through, along with Violet's voice.

"Let's get down to business."