Fire and Ice

The blood seeps down my arm. Slowly it trickles to the bend of my elbow and dribbles onto my black robe. The red stains my pale skin. The sight makes me sick yet with my right hand and injured wrist, I take the dagger to my other wrist.

My face tightens in pain as the blade cuts across my veins. It sears only for a second and I watch fresh blood pour. Images boggle my mind as I fight to stay cognizant. As my eyes follow the flow, my sight becomes sharp. I'm in a forest.

Even through the murky red blood, the black mark on my arm shows. A smile that is sardonic flickers across my face. It's for you.

Yes, my love, I know it's too late but this is for you. All the red and agony is for you. The memories will forever remain with you too. 'How could you?' you cried. 'I told you not to go down in the family!'

Memories of you add misery. But, love, we are suffering living and sleeping together is far too much. I'll miss the mornings after a fight and the scent of coffee wafting in every room.

Not knowing why, I wipe away the blood on my left arm. Again the dark mark gleams up at me. That hurt, more though, when you threatened to slap after seeing in on me. But to see you cry crushed me. I did it for you, love, not for power; I have power. I want you.

But it screwed everything up for I saw you fall from grace, too. Now we are condemned to this hell called life where we are no longer our own rulers but His. It still pains me to remember you with scorch marks from fights and missions. Bruises run all over your body.

The power He promised was never granted. In fact, you grew weak and I could do little to stop your suffering. But I could run, so I took you in my arms and ran. When finally fatigue overcame, me we stopped in a farm land.

I killed the family who lived in the closest house and laid you to rest. Finding fake IDs and aliases, we took our refuge here. Soon, life became ours again. Just as a cover up, we worked the farm and made friends, calling ourselves the Ashlandson's or saying: 'Yes, we are the couple who moved into the Jones' old place.' It was easy to manipulate those simple townsfolk; you enjoyed it, don't lie.

But life is still misery.

My breathing is raspy and it hurts like hell and they only get worse. Black is creeping upon me now, cold and painful, but the ice is nothing new; it flows through my veins.

It has enveloped around my heart and squeezed love away...even greater with you around. Like cancer, the ice moves to my lungs and even clouds y sight. I think I may have loved you, despite the cold lingering in every corner. Your face finds its way to stare at me, a single tear falling. I hate it when you had cried, I wanted to cry.

Oh yes, now I remember why we left the rural town, His biggest and strongest soldiers came while we were out. They burnt the house to the ground and tossed the great black mark into the sky. We grabbed supplies and ran again, making camp in a forest.

I remember being so tired I couldn't stand. I remember you walking deep into the trees that concealed us and leaving me. I remember counting days, lost with out you. I remember trying to find you and failing to my exhaustion. I remember pain.

Now all I know is pain. My memories, my life, my love for you, my blood all around me, and you is all the same hurt. But you are the worst kind. I don't like pain, nor will I miss it. This does not mean I do not like you and will not miss you. You haunt me and tease me. I ran away again, but from you. I used this weapon of protection on myself.

Life with out you was bad and grew to a hate I couldn't stand. The mark marred our lives. Everyday we fought and in the morning, when we woke with our bodies close and unclothed I thought we could be fine. I was just kidding myself.

The lids of eyes close. Memories lost leave forever. Life drains and peace welcomes me. Somewhere below I can hear you shout my name. Don't pull me back, heaven is waiting. Please, let me leave.

Blinding white light encompasses me and a floating sensation tingles in my body. Was it yours or my mother who said 'Anything you yourself don't put in your own mouth has the potential of being poisonous'? So what is this warmth running down my throat? Why can I smell liquor in the air?

Regretfully, my eyes open. On my arms are bandages stopping the once freely running blood. Then I see you passed out in a chair beside our bed, a bottle of potent liquor sits on the night stand. Damn you.

You keep me here and you aren't even awake to welcome me back? You pulled me from heaven-- Does heaven remind you of your torture on earth? Does it engulf you with ice and drown you in the sorrow you felt on earth? No, I was in hell because I was without you.

"Draco."

A weak smile crosses my face. The sensation I feel in my face is something I haven't felt in a long time. Our eyes met again and I feel tears threatening to pour. Instantly, you hold me trying to tell me I'm too weak to get up. Still, my arms wrap around you; I'll never willingly let go again. Weeks pass before I am well, but none to make you trust me to be alone again.

We are home once more, in the Manor and out of the forest, for good. Bed and sheets and pillows have never been more appreciated. You forget how easy life is when you have it all. But I really have it all, because I have you to hold.

Heat radiates off you. The fire in your body, the passion in your eyes, the spark that melts me when you smile, I'm on fire when you're near me.

Minty-vanilla is on your breath. Cloaked in the mystery of a dark room, our lips touch. Hungrily, my hands follow every curve of your naked body. Your hands take my hair and keep my face firmly with yours. Our bodies find a rhythm only perfected after many times of practice.

You are my poison. The reason I live, the reason that I will die. I'm letting you lead, letting you guide me. I've lost the luster for life that you still claim. I have you and only you. I have your word, your promise to keep this house safe with me.

Cold gray snow falls, and the black robes of our enemies stand out. The world is against us, the light and dark are both pissed by what we've done. Betrayal and murder, fleeing and fighting but I stay were I belong. Many battles rage in the backyard and spells from all over are directed at us.

A gust of wind that I turn my back on and a body hits the ground. The wind was a curse, a bullet, a muggle would say, and you took it. People litter the earth from both sides but ours has taken the worst toll. I drop heavily to my knees and scoop your lifeless body in my arms.

Tears stream down and leave trail on your pale face. I sweep aside a few strands of your silvery hair. Your eyes are closed delicately and you look at peace; a look I've never seen on your face, ever. But still I cry, my pain, my poison. How can you leave me without an antidote?

"Draco!"

I cry over and over hoping to shout you back to the conscious realm. Follow my voice, back to the hell of Earth. Back to me.

I rock you in my arms, like a child waking from a nightmare. I cling to you. Never will I let go. I had it all when I held you and have lost it all even as you lay in my lap. Footsteps approach and pry you from me.

The questioned me; I answered truthfully. I'm rotting away in a cell. All around are the insane cries of in-mates. Your father is here. I didn't recognize him at first; his blonde hair was scummy and his face was grizzled. He reminds me of home. The pain you gave me, the fire to fight, but everything else is lost.

The blood seeps down my arm. Slowly it trickles to the bend of my elbow and dribbles onto my black robe. The red stains your face. Then cold biting snow falls from the sky. A scream emits form my mouth and others around me yell as well.

The insanity has me in its clutches. The cold rasps of the faceless monsters breathe in all our life. Pictures that haunt and scare are all that are left. My memory is of you, in my arms, escaping the world that I could not. I have nothing to end this suffering but my own hands and even they have deceived me; I am too weak.

My reality is like a dream. I know not the day form night, not from my waking hours to my resting hours. The comparisons end there; I live a nightmare. It pulls me down into its darkest depths. Red colored liquid falls around me again. Ripples cross over my clothes from an icy wind. The smell of death suffocates me. Then your body lies on my lap and again I cry out.

My sentence passes like this. Your death plays it's self over and over, each time it stings a bit more than the last. I know I'm in the shallow end of the sanity pool because, for some odd reason, a large black dog visits me often. It tells me to wait for my time; it says it is serious. I'm supposed to wait.

I'm tired of waking from the life that I remember with a scream. I'm tired of the dirt and grime that has collected on my body. I'm tired of the murmurs I hear from people opposite the bars. I'm tired of waiting.

"It's time to go," says a gentle angelic voice. "Come with me, Virginia. You can let go."

You reach out to me and take my hand, giving me strength to leave. Your fire eats away the pain, hurt, and memories of death and suicide.

My fire, my love, my solution, thank you for letting me be your ice. Thank you for my life, twice. And, thank you, Draco, for freedom.