I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

But this isn't about the freak show. This is a love story.

In the Absence of Light, Darkness Prevails

Lost and Found

The air was warm, but she was cold, so cold.

Cold and alone.

Alone without Massimo.

Massimo, to protect her, love her, lift her up.

Without him, she was cold and she would never again feel true warmth.

Elsa sat on that narrow bed and rocked.

She rocked and she rocked.

A repetitive motion, mindless and childlike.

She rocked and she rocked.

She waited for Massimo.

She waited for the chainsaw monster.

Because it was all she could do.

Rock and listen to the sound of her own phantom screams.

And feel the shredding of her legs being torn from her all over again.

The woman with the wooden legs stood rigid and straight, refusing to back down in the face of the man who loved her.

She had told him to go.

No.

Commanded it.

And she didn't want him to.

But against everything within her bleeding soul, she remained defiant.

Massimo Dolcefino managed a sad, sick sort of smile before ducking his head slightly.

And beginning to turn away.

And as he did so, Elsa found she was shattering inside. And could not bear, now that it was happening, to watch him go.

Not when she needed him to stay so very badly.

"Massimo."

It was a raspy whisper, quiet and desperate.

He turned his warm, brown eyes to face her.

At his gaze, still loving and gentle, her thin veneer of self-preservation cracked, the walls around her heart crumbled.

"No, please, do not go away. I am sorry for my words. Please, close the door. Close the door and come to me."

She drew her hands away from herself and out toward him. Beckoning, caressing the air where he should be.

He complied slowly. Closing the door, turning the latch.

Moving toward her.

And step by step, every cell in her body cried out to him as he approached. Silently begging, pleading with him to take her in his arms and love her.

Love her with his body as he did every waking moment with his heart.

Love her.

And not go away from her again.

He stopped, inches away from her touch, and his eyes caught hers, shimmering bright and liquid emotion.

The words she had been practicing so carefully as she had once prepared to reveal her very soul to him whispered in her veins.

She was wrapped in a blue and white floral printed cotton dressing gown with sleeves caught right above the elbow and the hem nearly sweeping the floor.

It was a lovely, modest piece that any proper lady would desire to wear.

And now, without breaking eye contact with Massimo, she loosed the sash with one hand and allowed the garment slide off her and crumple unheeded into a pile on the floor.

So that she was now only adorned in a simple, amber-colored silk slip with etchings along the bust and lace edging along the hem. Straps light and weightless over her delicate shoulders.

She spoke carefully in Italian. Stringing together words into phrases into sentences that he had never taught her but she had practiced over and over until she felt confident she could convey her message clearly and without flaw.

"You are the only light I have ever known. You are a light I do not deserve. But a light that I want, deeply. Completely. I love you, Massimo."

Her voice trembled as she spoke and her body felt pulled toward his, like iron to a magnet.

And he responded, tone quiet yet equally heavy with emotion.

Eyes darker and warmer and deeper than ever.

"I love you as well, Elsa. Too much, I think."

Then he gathered her up into his arms.

And kissed her, his lips tender and warm and passionate on hers.

She sank into his embrace, all of her bones melting away from her. Her arms came up around his shoulders, running fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

Their lips parted almost in unison just enough to invite deeper, more fervid kisses between them and a small sound escaped her throat.

Massimo clutched her tighter and she gladly pressed herself against him.

As his lips trailed down to graze the silken flesh of her neck, she felt his hands running slowly down over her curves.

Down to the attachments of her wooden legs. Deftly and smoothly, he freed them of their bonds one at a time so that they sat untethered in their padded grooves.

Then paused. Straightened. And gazed into her eyes, his expression clear and direct.

"This is not about your legs, Elsa. Or your deformity without them. This is about your body. And only your body. And mine."

She nodded her understanding, finding that she no longer had any voice with which to speak.

Then deep desire and need for her crept back his eyes, stronger than she had ever seen and he kissed her again, seeming to openly savor the taste of her.

Her body was heating up to burst to flame, but it was a warm flame, a welcome flame. A flame for which she had waited a long time to indulge.

Then Massimo Dolcefino lifted her up in his strong arms and laid her down on the bed.

And showed Elsa true physical love and passion.

She had been with many men in many different ways.

Grunting, sweating pigs of men. Slobbering and drooling all over her.

Wiping themselves on their shirttails when they were finished, pulling up their pants back up over themselves. Buckling their belts and turning away, their interest in her forgotten as soon as their lust was satiated.

She had thought that was the way it was.

A tiny speck of pleasure and satisfaction in the midst of all the mindless rutting and swearing into her neck.

And later when she had taken the reins, metaphorically but sometimes literally, as their untouchable dominatrix whore, she had been turned off by the thought of sex completely.

Though sometimes, in the dead of night, she took her own comfort alone in the lonely emptiness of her solitary bed.

When her legs had been taken from her, she had known absolutely that if she lived, she would never be looked upon with desire and admiration by a man again.

Or at least a man not to be found deep within the sordid hotels of the darkness from which she had been lost.

And she would not lower herself to be a freak whore, sought after by men simply because she had no legs.

So Elsa believed she would never be truly loved in all of her life.

She was wrong.

Massimo did not desire her for the twisted pleasure of her deformity or for the hidden mystery between her thighs.

He desired her because he loved her for her.

And had never tried to touch her at all until that night.

And when he did make love to her, it was passionate and all-consuming and she felt warm bouts of ecstasy wave through her body over and over again.

Not for the naughty toys and sexual implements he employed, for he had none.

But for his deep, sincere, intense love for her, finally set free to flow between them.

"Ti amo, Elsa. Ti amo sempre."

I love you, Elsa. I love you always.

"I am sorry for my actions and my words, Massimo."

They lay together, unadorned and peaceful. Warmed by each other's body heat and love.

"I was . . . distraught at the idea you wanted me gone from you."

His fingers lazily tangled themselves in her blond curls, smoothing them away from her forehead as she continued.

"I should have spoken to you calmly, explained myself rather than treating you so," she concluded with sincere regret.

He kissed her hair as she lay with her head on his fuzzy chest.

"I never meant to hurt you, cara mia. I only wanted you to have your freedom again. Even if it meant I was without you."

She huffed lightly in derision.

"Freedom from you is a prison from life, Massimo."

He made sound in his throat, some warm, wordless thing and held her tighter.

Then she raised her head and kissed his inviting mouth, savoring the delicious taste of him.

And raised herself up, straddling him, unashamed and fiercely accepting of her shortened legs at that moment.

"I belong with you, Massimo. If you want me, if you will have me."

He grinned up at her, looking joyful and lustful and devilishly charming all at once.

She reached down and seized the back of his neck, pulling him upright to face her.

Inches apart, so he could feel her breath on his flesh.

And see the fire in her eyes.

"Never send me away from you again, Massimo. Please. Never again."

He nodded, his breath becoming heavier and more ragged by the second.

"No, cara mia, never again."

And he wrapped his arms around her. And caught her lips with his own.

The knob of the door rattled and turned and Elsa jerked, gasping. Fearful and hopeful and helpless.

She thought her heart might rip itself apart within her constricting chest as she watched to see who was on the other side of the barrier.

"Ah, my dearest Elsa . . ."

Massimo, it was Massimo there, standing before her as she tried in vain to hold back the flood of relieved tears.

But she could not.

His voice trailed off as he took in her tear-streaked face as she now lay in the bed in the middle of the early evening, her wooden legs cast carelessly away, quilt drawn tight around her.

He rushed to her now, kneeling at her side, his face pinched with worry for her sudden erratic behavior.

"Elsa, Elsa, what is wrong?"

She shook her head, sobbing helplessly into her trembling hands, completely unhinged and unstrung.

"Cara mia, please, you frighten me. Speak to me. Please, tell me what has happened."

She could not. Her fear was too large for her to escape.

She threw her arms around him, clutching at him wildly in her distress.

For her mind was awash with the sound of a clicking camera reel.

And the revving of a chainsaw.

Well, how was that?

Loads of different emotions swirling around here, I hope.

If you're interested in seeing the dressing gown, google image '1930s Dressing Gown/Seersucker 30s Robe'. And the slip is 'Slip 1930, French, Made of silk'. Both should be the first images that pop up.

And will it surprise you to realize that this (chapters 8 up to now) has only been one day of Elsa's life and she's just been flashbacking everything in the middles? She starts off with this great day and all of a sudden Dr. Hans Groper (yeah, it was him, you know it was) walks past her and unknowingly smashes it all to bits. Crazy, huh?

Thanks to brigid1318, GG, YellowBrickQueen (no, ask GG, I love plot bunnies, thanks!), Cassalyn, 8Girls8Boys, and Mango Marionette (to whom I apparently gave a stroke, sorry sweetie, better now?) for all your great, ongoing reviews. :)