A/N: I know everyone has done a Van Helsing reacting to Anna's death songfic, but I decided to do one of my own because I like the song so much. Oh, and I skipped a verse. I got writer's block.

I am just a poor boy,
Though my story's seldom told...
Gabriel Van Helsing held the dagger in his cold, sweaty hands. Should he do it? Could he do it? But most of all, would he do it?

I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles...

Granted, the idea definitely wouldn't fly with the Holy Order... but he was starting to realize that maybe they weren't always right about everything. They had been wrong about the Frankenstein monster, after all..

Such are promises, all lies and jests.
Still, a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest...

He ran his index finger over the steely blade. He winced as it made a broad but shallow cut in his skin.

She's dead, Carl said. It had been weeks ago, yet it seemed like seconds ago. And no matter how many years passed, that single statement was irrefutable.

(she's dead)

(she's dead)

(she's dead)
STOP IT! he screamed. He looked around the chamber, as though expecting to see someone there. He didn't of course. That made him feel even worse. Perhaps he was going mad. Perhaps he had always been mad. The dagger quivered along with his hands.

When I left my home and my family,
I was no more than a boy.
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station,
Running scared,
Laying low,
Seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places
Only they would know

he bellowed. He had to scream. He had to. He couldn't hold it in any longer. He had been wanting to scream like that ever since Anna's death.

Lie la lie , lie la lie lie lie la lie, lie la lie, lie la lie lie lie la lie, la la lie lie lie.

(Yes, her death. Because you killed her. You killed...)
SHUT UP! SHUT THE HELL UP!

Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job,
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores
On Seventh Avenue
I do declare,
There were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there.
Lie la lie , lie la lie lie lie la lie, lie la lie, lie la lie lie lie la lie, la la lie lie lie.

The dagger was back out again, questing towards his heaving breast. It could all end now.But would he? Would he? He held it there for a good ten minutes. Then he thought of Carl... of Cardinal Jinette; but that wasn't what sustained him. He thought back to the face of a beautiful woman, a face he would never see again. He had to keep going. He had to get back up and keep fighting. He had to do it. For Anna.

In the clearing stands a boxer,
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame,
"I am leaving, I am leaving."
But the fighter still remains.

He hurled the dagger out the window of his chamber. It clattered to the stones below.

Lie la lie , lie la lie lie lie la lie, lie la lie, lie la lie lie lie la lie, la la lie lie lie.