Where Does Love Go When It Dies - Def Leppard

Could you ever steal a prayer to deny your God
Could you ever buy your love and not count the cost
Could you ever take a life when all was lost
And would it ever be enough

Could you bite the hand that feeds you and then ask for more
Could you kiss the wound that bleeds spit it on the floor
Could you open up your heart then close the door
And would it ever be enough

Every word you whisper
All the tears you hide
You die for love when it's alive
But where does love go when it dies

If you came across your dream would you walk on by
Hold a candle to the wind and just let it die
And is there room inside your mind for one more try
And would it ever be enough

I watch the time go rushing by it's like an ocean wave
Showing you no mercy throwing dirt upon your grave
You're drowning in the darkness and you're blinded by the light
And there ain't no prayer that's gonna save you now

If you woke up from your sleep blood on your hands
Would you wash the pain away no one understands
There must be someone out there who can help you breathe again
And would it ever be enough

[Repeat Chorus]

I can't.  I can't do this.  Panic ran through her system like an electric charge and she knew that all eyes were on her, watching her.  She couldn't handle it, couldn't take what was happening inside her any more.  She bolted.

Then she was in the halls and heading for her room, her room, not *their* room at all, because it had been his room before, not hers, and he wasn't around any more anyway, and that was her fault.  All her fault.

You killed the only person you've ever truly loved, how does that feel?

I didn't, I didn't, she wanted to scream at the voice, the voice that was in her head and yet wasn't.

And Logan growled his affirmation and she broke down, crumpled in the hallway and let the silent tears flow, and then... nothing.  The tears that stained her cheeks wouldn't come and she stared at the white walls in what seemed like fascination but was closer to a trance, and her eyes, if she could've seen them, were dead.  Gazing into nothingness and liking what she saw.

Because at least the despair, that terrible feeling of having every organ in your body stretched tauter and tauter like elastic bands until that centre one, the heart, exploded and sent all the others snapping back with the force of a light-speed train crash, faded into the background.

She heard, vaguely, the sound of footsteps and some long-lost instinct of preservation - perhaps it wasn't hers at all, perhaps it was Logan's? - forced her upwards and propelled her towards the sanctity, the quiet of her bedroom.

She collapsed long before she reached the bed, and only a minor miracle - or perhaps Logan again - saved her from cracking her skull on the hardwood floor.

There was a knock on the door, and she kept her silence; intruders weren't welcome, not when what they were intruding upon was her grief, her own attempts at self-destruction, always thwarted by Logan.

Even though he was dead - she had killed him, and yet had no idea *how* they'd come to be in that position, but still, she *had* killed him - he was still her protector.

Because he was in her head.  That was what they didn't understand.  He was in there, up there, growling and snarling and telling her he loved her and that it wasn't her fault.

And she couldn't stand it any more.

And as with Carol, she needed to push him down, push him *out* because he shouldn't be there, she shouldn't have his comfort when all she wanted to do was sink into grief and guilt and let the world drift away around her.

He wouldn't let her, and she needed to, *needed* to, because guilt was the one thing she had, the one thing that was true and could be counted upon.

Memory was faulty, Swiss-cheese, and while she wanted to know how it had happened, *why* it had happened, she didn't want to remember.  Knew that if she could, if she had, even Logan wouldn't be able to prevent her from dispensing justice.  Upon herself.

And she didn't hold out hope that she hadn't done it - the proof was irrefutable - because she knew she had, and even Logan couldn't dispute the facts, though he tried, tried by telling her that she hadn't meant to, she'd tried to move him but he was too heavy, she hadn't been herself - well then, who had she been?  No, he couldn't convince her of that, even when he suggested that one of the persona's inside her had taken over, because then, even then, it would still be her.  She had killed Logan, single-handedly destroyed love.

She lay there, on the floor, not curled up, just on her side like a victim of paralysis, because she didn't deserve the comfort of the position, had no right to it, none at all.

And she lay there, in the quiet, and dimly noticed, but didn't really see, the dust swirling under the bed and the curtain flapping in the breeze, and it seemed that she had gone deaf, deaf to everything but the sound of her breathing.

When she awoke, really woke up, Logan was gone.  The voice in her head had disappeared and she was so thankful she almost cried, but it seemed every drop of moisture in her body had been expended on her previous tears, and there was nothing left.

Inside her chest, where her heart had been, there was nothing.  Merely an aching, gaping black hole that sucked in every tiny vestige of light that hid furtively in her soul, until all that remained was darkness.

And she listened, but couldn't hear anything.  Not even the sound of her own breath, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale.  Blissful silence, and she thought of everything that had happened and relished the darkness that enveloped her.

And as she thought, she dismissed her life, and Logan's, because sometimes remembering, dwelling, living, hurt too much and there was no room for feelings inside her now.

Because now, now there were only two truths she knew for sure: You are born alone, and you die alone.  Everything inbetween is inconsequential.
 

~end~