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Story Notes: This is one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard, I had to use it. Thank to Saint JoJo for helping me find it. I realize that this story is very disjointed. It's supposed to be. Go with it.

Feedback: Hell yeah! Don't make me beg, hit reply and stroke my ego please.

Dedication: As always, for LEW. For Jo, because.

Date: 01/02/05

Copyright © to Venom, 2005


But the ending always comes at last
Endings always come too fast
They come too fast, but the past too slow
I love you and that's all I know

***

You've had far too much, you know. More than you can usually stomach without eating first, you're sure. It's probably unsafe to continue with the mutilation of your liver, you're aware.

You don't care.

Whiskey is a beautiful thing.

It burns at your throat, and you feel each drop as it slides down. It leaves a trail of fire as it descends through your esophagus and into your belly.

You want the burn, welcome it.

You want it to hurt.

Want the pain.

Coherent thought left you an hour ago. Emotions left you an hour before that, to be replaced by a coldness that matches the air. There's a sharp breeze outside, and it comes through your open door. The chill licks at your skin in complete contrast to the heat inside of you.

Anger, sorrow and tears have long since faded from your body; only an empty shell remains.

An empty shell with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Your grip on the glass it tight, and the condensation seeps through your fingers. The bottle has already slipped from your hand and is lying on the floor near your feet. You don't move to pick it up, you doubt you could find it.

Your body has past humming. There is no buzz of alcohol anymore, it too has long since faded. Now all that remains is a numbness that scares you. You've bitten your tongue and blood fills your mouth but you don't feel it, just swallow it obediently. That should bother you.

It doesn't.

Words, sentences, paragraph.

They all float around in your head. Taunting you with thoughts of what you could have done, should have done and would have done if given the chance again.

It's not too late, Daniel tells you. Subtly reminding you that everyone can see it; could see it when you refused too. Reaffirming that you made stupid decisions over the years. Good for the planet, bad for you.

Should you not do something? Teal'c asks. You ignored that question with a small shake of your head. What can you do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Hammond says nothing. He doesn't need to. He knows, he understands. Hammond knows that there's a demon inside of you fighting for control. Fighting to be let loose. Fighting to find your loaded gun and take the easy road. Hammond knows.

He knew for years, he says. He wished it had turned out differently, better, he tells you.

But it didn't, you reply.

It didn't.

She didn't say anything at all. Because She has no clue that your heart has been put through the shredder and left in the garbage. She doesn't see that you're little more than a broken carcass now, waiting for your mind to die and follow your soul to hell. She is totally oblivious to your hurt, because she caused it.

She wears his ring on her finger, and it burns.

Robert Frost mocks you from your bookcase. "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both." That's the bitch of it, though. Thanks to the wonder of Alien Technology, you know where The Road Not Taken leads.

It makes you hate yourself just a little more for doing the right thing.

What would have really happened, you wonder? Would the apocalypse have come if you'd fucked her? Would humanity have been enslaved if you's hugged her for no reason at all other than to be near her? Would fire have fallen from the sky if you'd told her you loved her? Would the world have ended any sooner if you'd kissed her?

Of course not.

You could be married to her now, if you had done what your heart had told you to. She could be swollen with your child while another plays in the yard. If the world were perfect, you would be happy. You would have her.

You don't.

It's not perfect..

There is no happy ending.

And fuck Disney for telling you otherwise.

How dare they portray it like that. You don't get to tie up all of your loose ends in two hours, save the world from evil and have the guy get the girl at the end too. Life isn't like that.

Life isn't fair.

Life is… life.

Broken thoughts. Feelings amiss. Brain scattered. Fleeting glimpses of emotion.

Hurt. Burn. Pain.

You can't hold on.

Do you want to?

You pick up the phone, and hit speed dial one. She answers. You don't say anything.

Whiskey is a beautiful thing, you think, and take another sip.

***

End.




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