Title: Hell + Bliss
Author: Zia
Rating: PG-13-R
Summary: Michael reflects on the past years.
Author's Note: Was inspired to write a kinda short fic, so here it is. Just a little quicky sadness


Michael hit play on the CD player in his small studio. The walls were splattered with different colors of paint from some interesting escapades in the past. He smiled faintly as Maria's voice filled the room.

To explain the madness of you,
To complain of the sadness involved with knowing you,
To forget the revolting thought of going through.
The regret and the healing that I'd have to do.

She had an amazing voice. He always loved to listen to her sing, despite what she may have thought.

# I have a concert tonight.

Yeah? And?

And you're coming.

No I'm not.

Yeah you are. Or I'm never speaking to you again. Michael couldn't help but roll his eyes at her, but was careful not to let her see. She used that threat constantly in the last five years of their on again-off again relationship. Michael. You're coming.

Go away! Michael snapped at her and Maria leaned in close to his face.

Give me a kiss.

Get out.

I'm not going anywhere until I get my god damned kiss. Michael growled and grabbed her around the waist and yanked her into his lap and kissed her hard. In seconds they were making out heavily on the tattered old couch. One he'd gotten years ago at Goodwill. It had been in his apartment until Maria threw a fit one-day and demanded he throw it out or she'd never come back. That was around the same time that someone had seen one of Michael's sketches of Maria's and offered him a hundred bucks for it.

The drawing had been simple. Watching her working and he'd sat in a booth on his break and watched her, and decided to draw her as she interacted with a little boy who wasn't more than a year old. He took the man up on the offer and bought a new couch. Well it wasn't brand new, but it was in a lot better shape then the one they were currently making love on.

She came by that night and it had been covered with a sheet. She glared at him, and told him that a blanket didn't make the couch better. He yanked the sheet off, and they christened the couch multiple times that night.

You'll come to my concert? Maria asked him as they laid in the aftermath of their passionate love making. They now laid on the floor of Michael's studio, covered in paint.

You know I will. Maria smiled and curled up closer to her. But within seconds Michael jumped up and picked her up. Her carried her over to the wall and pressed her back up against it then smirked as he pulled her away from it. A swirl of different colored paints in the shape of her back and the top of her ass. He murmured and kissed her softly.

Maria smiled and him and touched his cheek. I need to go. I'm going to be late. Michael groaned and let her legs slid down from his waist and kissed her tenderly.

I'll see you tonight.#

Through my eyes the sky is pretty,
And you promise you'll join in the flight.
But I can't deny the gritty thought,
That you can't take the height,
You can look at this as one big fall,
Life can be both hell or bliss,
Or it can be nothing at all,
So I just ask you now to choose,
Don't you think it's worth it
Even if you lose?

Michael picked up a fresh canvas and set it on the easel. He grabbed his tray of paints and stared at the canvas for a moment before he started painting. His hands smoothed quickly over it, easily painting her form. It was one he'd painted for years. He knew everything about it. Including the small birthmark high on the back of her left thigh. He decided it looked like a UFO, therefore making her perfect for him. Maria just smiled at him and nodded. Whatever you say lover' She'd murmur before closing her eyes again, and letting him take possession of her body.

He quickly had the outline of her body painted. His brush smoothed over the curves of her breasts, then down over her stomach. Slightly swollen with their child, then her hips, also a little larger than in some of the other pictures, making her more curvier. Looking more grown up than she had been ten years earlier. But still beautiful. Then a blanket over parts of her body. Concealing the dark patch of hair between her legs, her own arm covered her breasts, her other hand resting gently on her belly. He smiled thinking about the day she found out she was pregnant.

# Maria screamed from the bathroom and Michael went running. Afraid she'd hurt herself, but suspicious that it may have been a spider. They terrified her, and on more than one occasion he'd had to go in and get rid of it before she'd move a step. What is it? He asked sticking his head in the room.

Maria was standing there naked, water pooling around her feet and dripping down her body. He noticed the shower was on and realized she'd just climbed out. she turned what she held in her hand towards him and he just stared. A pregnancy test. He had no idea what the little pink line meant.

A smile spread across her face and she threw her arms around him.

We're gonna have a baby!

what!? Maria shrieked in happiness and kissed him passionately. He repeated as he wrapped his arms around her. Oh god a baby. He kissed her hard and realized she was shivering in the coolness of the room and her soaked body. Quickly he carried her to the shower and jumped inside with her, not caring about the fact that he was still wearing clothes. But Maria quickly remedied that.

That night as they laid in bed together Michael kissed her belly and stroked it with his fingertips. They were going to have a child. He smiled and kissed her belly again then pulled her into his arms. I love you. Maria smiled and snuggled up closer to him.#

How can I begin to speak,
When actions measure true feeling,
Though your words do leave me weak,
Your movements always leave me kneeling.
The true test of time is distance
But I am not willing to see,
I won't damage with nonsense,
What actions show is meant to be,

Michael stared at the painting. He'd just finished her emerald green eyes. It was complete. Well to anyone else's eyes it was. But it was missing something. He stared for a while longer then realized what it was. He'd painted her eyes millions of times, but this time he'd forgotten something. He grabbed the gold paint and quickly added some flecks of gold into her eyes. Now it was her. He thought that if he stared long enough at it, it could come to life. He took the painting down and carried it across the room to where he wanted to hang it. The walls were covered half in the pictures he'd painted of Maria, and their daughter, and half in the paint splatters that were caused from fights, or creative lovemaking.

Through my eyes the sky is pretty,
And you promise you'll join in the flight.
But I can't deny the gritty thought,
That you can't take the high,
You can look at this as one big fall,
Life can be both hell or bliss,
Or it can be nothing at all,
So I just ask you now to choose,
Don't you think it's worth it
Even if you could still lose?

The song ended and he looked at the CD player then quickly shut it off before it had a chance to start again. It had been on repeat for hours. Michael gathered his things and picked up his jacket before heading for the door. With one last glance around the studio he locked the door and headed home.

He walked in the door and glanced around. I'm home. He called and heard the shrill scream of his daughter as she ran down the stairs and jumped into his arms.

Amy followed close behind and smiled.

She refused to go to bed before you got home. Michael just nodded and kissed his daughter's forehead.

I talked to mommy! She said proudly and Michael raised an eyebrow at his daughter.

You did?

Monique nodded vigorously.

Sweetie, I thought that was our secret. Amy said glancing at her.

It's alright Amy. Amy smiled in relief.

I talk to mommy every day, so it's ok. You can talk to her whenever you want to.

Michael tucked Monique into bed and kissed her forehead. Do you miss mommy? Michael nodded.

Yeah baby I do.

Do you love mommy?

Of course I do. More than anything.

More than me?

Never more than you. Get some sleep. She smiled and snuggled herself into her blankets.

Yeah baby?

Turn on mommy's CD? Michael nodded and turned on the CD player before leaving the room.

Michael walked down the hall to his and Maria's room and stripped down to his boxers and fell into bed. He missed Maria alright. He let his eyes slip shut and rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. It didn't smell like her anymore.

# Michael paced anxiously, waiting for Maria. It was the opening of his gallery; she was supposed to be here already. He ran his hands through his hair. The front door flew open and Maria collapsed to the floor. Blood covering the front of her slinky dress.

Michael ran to her and pulled her into his arms. Baby what happened?

you. She mumbled as he clutched her to his chest. His hand pressed against the wound in her stomach. He connected with her. Trying to heal her. Flashes flew past his eyes. Of her, how much she loved him and Monique. A man trying to steal her purse. Then he pinned her against her car, his hands shoved under her skirt and she started to scream for help. Suddenly he felt the pain of a knife in the stomach. One. Two. Three. Four. The knife fell from his hand and he started running.

Michael stared down at his wife. She was dying. I love you baby. He told her softly and stroked her forehead. He concentrated on trying to relieve some of the pain. He couldn't heal her. He was trying but it wasn't working.

Tell Mo love her. Maria swallowed hard and then started coughing and blood splattered her lips, then her eyes closed.#

Michael's eyes opened quickly as he felt someone slipping into bed with him. Monique laid down beside him and curled up against his side. He watched her sleeping for a while. She looked just like Maria, so much that it scared him sometimes.

# Michael stood beside his daughter as everyone else walked away. Both staring at Maria's grave. I miss momma. Monique mumbled and then buried her face in her father's leg.

I miss her too baby.#

She'd bled to death in his arms. His beautiful wife of almost four years died in his arms. Leaving him alone with their daughter. Michael calmly stroked his fingers through Monique's hair. Now it was two years later. Every painting he did was of Maria or Monique. He couldn't think of painting anything else. Or of ever selling his studio. Too many memories of Maria were there. I love you Maria. He whispered softly and kissed his daughter's forehead. Then let himself drift off to sleep.