Author's Note: My apologies for the long delay, though I have to admit it seems I learn how to write faster. Two weeks are a lot better than the nearly two months since I last posted something for my 'The Phantom of the Opera' mpreg. If only I could control my muse and bring myself to write regularly. sigh Anyway, I hope this part is to your liking.

Delilah - June 02, 2004

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Chapter One

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Pain surrounds our very being. It is everywhere, never to be escaped, never to be ignored. For in pain lies the knowledge of life. For without pain there is no survival. Without the everlasting reality that grounds one in the now there is no future.

And a future there must be. That is the first lesson. Protect the future, even with your death. Every breeder knows that, follows that age old rule till the day their soul is permitted to trespass into the shadows. Thus one is allowed to free a bound heart, walk the path to the moons and gain one's true desire.

Every breeder is taught that way. And when the day comes that the pain becomes too much, that their will alone can't hold them in this realm any longer, they relinquish all power and become one with their other half. To follow one's heart is to follow one's future. And to follow, to follow in every sense of the word, is to lose all rights to true solitude.

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"Shh, everything will be fine." Soothing words spoken in a soft voice, permitting him to believe in peace, if only for a short moment, only to leave him in the end. They always leave him, everyone who dared to threaten the unconquerable walls around his heart. Always the same. Like mother, like teacher, like friend, like angel. Always the same.

"No, I won't leave you. Never." Should he trust these words, this voice that just can't be ignored in his cocoon of physical pain? Should he? Or must he? Is there even a choice?

Touch, so light that one might think it was only a dream, but knows it is hard reality. Touch, so full of emotion that even denying its mere existence is beyond imagination. Who is this person that wants him to live? Who dares to make him want to live? Who?

Who...

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The human mind is a strange thing. One moment there is no recollection of things past, the next a sound, a smell or even a touch can bring back memories that have no right to exist. Though it depends heavily on one's point of view, to recall what once was and never will be can only be called sweet torture.

To recall is to know. And in knowing lies certain death. But what a time it was, before the pain, before being forced to leave the only soul he ever loved. How beautiful the pale eyes as they laid sight on him for the first time in these hated white rooms that reeked of healing. How protected he felt. How happy he was. How in dreams touch became reality when awake all he could do to not show his yearning. How he was loved and cherished and promised to never have to be alone.

Never alone. What a cruel joke these words are. What pain they caused. Does he really want to know who made those promises oh so long ago? Is he brave enough to remember? Does he dare ask?

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Who...

"Who are you?" Is that his voice? This broken instrument that pains its user when only whispering? Is that all that remains of the once silken tones that loved to speak of fairy tales and knights of legends old? Is that all?

The soft touch returns. Hesitatingly as before, but so full of love that it makes him nearly forget. But he does not succumb to the old instinct that orders him to deny, to just forget and be safe. This time he is brave enough. This time there is no fear.

Again the question. And waiting. Waiting, waiting in silence that screams as loud as fire burns but is as comfortable as dreaming of things that cannot be.

"Someone who loves you." Four soft spoken words that destroy all hope he ever had. For the one whose arms are now around him, holding him in a way he missed so dearly, is not the one he wants it to be. And though he knows he makes a grave mistake, probably signs his own death warrant with this deed, he cannot keep from uttering the one word he is not allowed to use, the one name that means the world to him.

"Darth..."

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And in a place as cold as hell a lonely soul allows himself a tiny smile of happiness.