Title: Bittersweet

Author: krimzon (krimzon_burns@hotmail.com)

Rating: Pg-13

Characters: Harry Potter, Voldemort, Tom Riddle

Beta: No

Disclaimer: The usual, Harry Potter characters in this story do not belong to me, because lets face it, they belong to J.K.Rowling, lucky women. And others. But my insanity that's all mine, yup, its nice to have someone to talk to, silly thing insanity, I don't think I own it either, anywayz, that's my disclaimer. So don't sue, I'm broke till I get a crappy job.

A/N: This is a non sane Voldemort (tom riddle)/Harry Potter suicide fic, and since its insanity, and comes from me, which is sad, believe me, it would be nice to get reviews. I don't know why, but then neither do you!

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I killed him, everyone knew that I would eventually kill him. It was fate, my fate, my horrible fate. I'm their hero, their savoir, a murderer, The Boy Who Lived, even best friends with Ron and Hermione, and don't even forget, archrivals with Draco Malfoy. Yes, I am their everything, and I am nothing.

But for now I am going insane.

Voldemort, and more unknowingly known as Tom Riddle. Is alive.

He is in me, so I am him, we are one, We are immortal.

They say brother wands can never duel, they say Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter lived a life of fame, they do not know, anything.

We dueled, Tom and I, it's useless calling him Voldemort, for I am he, and he is I, we dueled, we fought, he lost, and I lost. Good was, and evil was, a universe of balance. Since Tom and I had brother wands, and since him and I were a part of each other, his magick in me, and my blood in him, we were equals, souls, hearts, minds, and powers. We didn't exist, we were neutral, put us together and you have nothing, pull us apart and we can be everything.

That's why I say, that I am the one and only Lord Voldemort. And why Harry Potter never was.

So that's why you must understand, why I hate you, and why I love you, and why we can never be.

He talks to me, Tom, in my head I hear his voice, he's so innocent it scares me, he sees the shadows and knows they're evil, he sees them and can hate them for what they are, who they are. I can't, I think I'm falling in love, or I've already fallen, I can't tell anymore.

I think I love Tom.

And hate myself.

That's why I envy Tom/myself, and that is why I hate him so much it feels like love, that's why I can never forgive him/myself for staying in the shadows for so long, with the shadows.

And that's why I push you away, and that's why I'm breaking. Why I'm crying when you asked if I love you back, and why I couldn't say that I did, and do still love you.

And that's why I'm bleeding now, from deep inside it conquers, from deep inside it burns.

He told me to do it, he told me I was evil, I was dark, and he was right, I was right to do this.

You should have seen him, he was helping me cut and cut; his pale hands over my own, helping the knife cut my skin apart.

His dark hair covering his eyes from me, they're green just like my own, burning embers, a jade flame of the soul, our soul, his and mine.

He looked up at me and smiled, then we cut deeper, and deeper. He was fading, and I was leaking all over the floor, all red. I couldn't see his lips telling me to cut deeper, to bleed him out, I was corrupting him, I was so dark, I was so dirty. But I heard his soft whispers, and I closed my eyes to dream.

It's so beautiful, the rain, it falls and falls, and when you think it might go on forever, it just stops. And that's why I hate it, it leaves you alone, leaves you in the darkness by yourself.

Rain is also like tears, my tears, and Tom's tears, though mine are red, and oh so dark, and his are pure and silver orbs of light. I've only ever seen him cry once, when my soul turned black, he said that that was bad. I can't be like him, even though I want to, I cry too much, I bleed too much, all over. My tears turn my skin crimson, and I look so evil when I hurt, then I hurt him, and I cry more, I turn darker, I'm corrupting him, so I ended it, and he'll live happily, just like he should have.

He's an angel sent to heal, and I'm the monster. But good always wins, and Tom won, I'm glad, I don't think I would have liked it much if I had beaten him, he's too good to be beaten. I'm glad I'm dying.

I'm glad I'm dead.

The last I heard his voice was when he whispered to my dying self that he had won, that I had won. But I'm evil, and evil's not supposed to win.

Tom was good, he was pure. Why would he say that I won, and that he won, that evil won. No, good is supposed to win.

And I'm dead, so good wins, and I'm dead, so good wins. I'm dead. I don't think they wanted this to happen. I'm their hero; I'm their savoir. I'm Lord Voldemort.

And sadly, I know that I won. And Tom won. And then everyone lost. Because we won. And as I told you, we are nothing. And nothing isn't anything to be happy about.

Because Tom died too.

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didya like? Well I did so screw you- lovya (I really do)-crimson tears, bai.