Author's Note: Ok, I really don't know where this came from. It just popped into my head, and it wouldn't go away until I typed it all down. Sure, it doesn't make a lot of sense, it's pointless, and we don't know who the X5 girl is (so don't reach the end and go "So, who was she again?" and search the whole thing through fifty times for a name. It's not there because I don't know who she is either. I just figured I'd leave it open to your imaginative minds.) but I decided to put it up anyways. Basically, it's just a weird little explanation for why Ben puts his own barcode on each of his victims. Enjoy.

Giving Up My Saving Grace

By Be Boring

The days had always passed by monotonously, without one day having any more extraordinary events than the others. His interests wandered from month to month as he moved from one town to another. The only things that had remained the same were his regular trips to the local churches. Sitting in one of the pews for several hours and watching all the people rush in to share their confessions was more calming than anything else. It made him realize that his life was just one mess in a wasteland of many others that were more entertaining, although not nearly as complicated, as his. Confessions were a funny thing, no matter how big or little their "sin" was, the sinner was convinced that they were damned to eternal hell. In some cases, he agreed with them. He had heard everything from murder, rape, burglary, and adultery to saying a swear word, lying about where they were the night before to their parents, and taking a piece of candy from an unaware five-year-old on the street. Many times he simply had to laugh at how seriously some people took themselves. This was when he was in a good mood.

On the worse days, every person that walked by was being judged by his carefully scrutinizing eyes. Did they look like good, faithful people? Did they have strong hearts? Had they lived a good life? This was also when he memorized nearly everything they said in the confessional. At the end of the week, he ran through all the people in his mind and picked out the top few that he believed were being truly watched over. Then he would show up on Sunday for the sermon and pick out those people in the church. Usually he was lucky and managed to spot the person who was on the top of his list, but sometimes he had to resort to his second or even third choice. This was a disappointment for him, because he knew that the Blue Lady wouldn't protect them. Why would she bother with people who quite obviously didn't deserve it?

Most of the time, he did this on his own. Zack had showed up every now and then to express his disapproval, but he hadn't been by for at least two years. Not that his brother's absence bothered him all that much, Zack was more of a hindrance than anything else, but it was nice to see someone of his own kind occasionally. He hadn't come across many others, although he did wish that he had someone to help him regularly. The thrill of the hunt would be heightened so much more with a partner. He knew, because although this was usually a private hobby, every now and then she had turned up to hang out with him. Other than his almost weekly "hunts", she was the thing he looked forward to the most.

She had understood his need to hear the confessions, as well as his passion for the chase. Of course, she also managed to bring out his other passions. He had never even looked at her in that way until she called him and begged him to come to her, saying that she needed him more than she'd ever needed him before. This had confused him, at least until he had arrived at her hotel room and she had shamelessly flung her naked body on him. It wasn't until later that she explained to him about her heat cycles and how she couldn't control herself, so she decided that at least she would be safer with him than with a stranger.

Even more than the nights that they began to share, he had looked forward to when she agreed to test a believer with him. For an hour before they went to the Sunday morning services, they would spar until they felt they were ready, and during the entire sermon they would discuss which one of that week's confessors would be tested. The only thing that she had to turn away for was when he displayed the body.

Still, even though he was doing what pleased him, the killings somehow left him feeling empty. Something was missing in the display of the body, which left him a bit unsettled as he surveyed the body after displaying it. They would discuss it for hours, despite the fact that he knew she didn't understand what he felt he was missing out on, but they never came up with anything. There was no explanation for that emptiness, it was simply there. It was practically on the tip of his tongue as he stepped back to look at each body, but she could never help him. She was the one person in the world who understood him, yet she couldn't do anything to ease the frustration. She had tried; oh yes, she had tried. With soft kisses, loving words, and her sexy, cajoling mannerisms she struggled to take his mind off the thing that always evaded him. Every day he awoke to her beautiful face with that gentle smile on it as she slept on, perfectly unaware that he was slowly taking in every inch of her so that she would always be locked in his memory after that day they both knew was coming. It was unavoidable, no matter how much they didn't want to admit it. Their kind simply weren't meant to find this sort of love.

Finally, they started spending more time apart. She would run off to try and sort out her feelings on her own, and he would go on a frantic killing spree, so sure that he could discover what was bothering him so that he could be completely happy with her. He knew perfectly well that their problems were his fault, that his inability to just let go and be content with what they had was keeping them from truly having that fairytale ending that all those children's books talked about. Something told him that once he knew what was wrong, he wouldn't need to kill anymore. There would be no need. Until then, however, it felt so important to him to keep going. Her zeal for the hunt was slowly fading because she had already satisfied her predatorial nature long ago, probably after the first few killings that she had taken part in. After that, she was content to just be with him. It was only his eagerness that kept her going, but he noticed that more and more often she was stepping back and letting him finish the job, almost to the point where there was no reason for her presence.

Then one day she took him completely by surprise. "Ben, I can't do this anymore. It feels so meaningless, it doesn't mean so much to me like it does to you. You have no idea how hard this is for me, but I can't decide what means more to me: staying with you or not killing anymore. I thought that maybe you would grow out of it once you realized that you had someone here for you, but you haven't. I can't take any more deaths. I've never told you because I knew how much you loved what you did, but that day when we were kids was the worst day of my life. I was out of control, and I have never liked that feeling. I don't like being helpless against my own animal urges, which is why I wanted to be with you during my heat cycles. I've always felt safer with you. But I just can't keep going like this."

Her eyes made it obvious what she wanted him to say. She wanted him to tell her that she was more important to him than killing strangers, that he would give it up so they could be together, but he just couldn't do it. He needed to sort himself out before he could relax and really let her into his life the way she wanted to be. When he told her this, she let him in on another surprise.

"That's what you don't get. I know you started out killing people because you wanted to prove to yourself that the Blue Lady exists and that she would protect someone who really believed in her, but you have killed so many people without any proof that there is someone out there watching over them. Even though I didn't realize it at first, you already knew that you weren't going to find anyone that would be able to survive an encounter with you. Your problem was that even though you knew you would never find what you were looking for, murdering people had become such an integral part of your life that you didn't know how to go on without it, so you just kept going. I don't think it's hit you yet, but I see it in your eyes every time I look at you. You know that what you're doing is wrong, and you hate yourself for it. You hate yourself with so much intensity that you won't let yourself be happy. That's what you've never figured out. It's not that you're missing something in your life, it's just that you have something that you don't feel you deserve. You don't think it's right for you to have me when you have most likely destroyed so many other loves. I'm the problem in your life, so I'm what will have to go."

Those were the last words she ever said to him. Even when he had asked her where she was going, she could only shrug and turn her back on him. He hated to see tears in her beautiful eyes, especially when he had been their cause. "I'm so sorry," he whispered as her footsteps faded down the hallway. Where had this sudden weakness come from? A horrible exhaustion flooded him, making every finger feel like it weighed fifty pounds, his legs like useless stumps. Without any second thought, he tore from the room and down the hallway after her, but she was already gone. The street, the park, even the church were all empty of any familiar faces. It took every last bit of willpower he had to keep from screaming out her name. As he lowered himself into a pew and gripped his knees to try and hold back the shudders that threatened to turn into real seizures, a hand gently squeezed his shoulder. He whirled around, hoping to see her face, but instead found himself looking at a man who was well into his forties smiling at him kindly.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded, feeling his shudders slowly fade.

"Would you like me to get the priest? Or maybe I could walk you somewhere so you can lay down?"

A slow smile came onto his face. "You know, if you could just take me to a nice, quiet place nearby, that would be wonderful."

~~~~~

Now, he was looking down at the broken body of yet another victim. That man three years ago had been the first in a long line of victims that sported his new idea, his tribute to her. She had been right, he hated himself. What kind of monster was he, to choose murder over a young woman who loved him as more than a brother when nobody else could? If he had despised his actions then, his feelings were multiplied tenfold by now. But he had found a way to express his pain, a way to show how much he loathed his own weakness. She would have seen the difference he had made, for it was more than obvious. Before, Manticore hadn't taken any special notice of the killings, but now they knew who they were dealing with. How couldn't they, with the barcode of one of their own creations staring them boldly in the face? See, my love? I've killed myself many times just for you. The pain on their faces is what I've felt every day that I've lived without you. I just hope someday you'll realize how much I really cared.

He finally finished setting the body up against a tree stump that gave ample opportunity for the body to be viewed from quite a distance away. Wiping his bloody hands on a handkerchief from his pocket, he made his way towards the highway. It was a busy area, he wouldn't have any problem hitching a ride. As usual, he was right. A truck eventually pulled over and the driver gestured for him to get in.

"Where are ya headed?" the driver asked. Ben took in the nearly hillbilly appearance of the other man without much concern, all the people who gave him rides were starting to look the same in his mind.

"It doesn't matter to me. Where are you going?"

"Seattle. I have to visit my sister in the hospital."

He thought it over, then smiled. "Seattle sounds good. Let's go."