TITLE: Hollow

AUTHOR: Scorpio

ARCHIVE: Only if you *really* want it...don't feel obligated.

FANDOM: Herc/Xena Verse

DISCLAIMER: Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prod.

PAIRING: Cupid/Strife (implied)

RATING: Strong R - Harsh and dark subject matter [read warning]

CATEGORY: *****DEATH FIC***** Mpreg, DarkFic, *Major* Angst

NOTES: I was in an ugly ugly mood when I wrote this. It's very very dark and horrible and awful. If you are in any way sensitive, please don't read this.

WARNING * WARNING * WARNING * WARNING
This story deals with - Miscarriage - and the death of a child. It is *not* for those who have *any* problems with this subject matter. *Please* take this warning to heart. I will not be offended if you don't read this.

SUMMARY: Strife's stream-of-consciousness after a life-shattering loss.

SHIFTING TIDES 1: Hollow

by Scorpio

Hollow.

Empty and brittle.

As if any movement, any sound, would shatter what was left of his mind into a thousand ice cold razor-edged shards.

He was nothing but a shell, his core scraped raw. All of the goodness stolen, leaving only the aching pain. Physical pain a welcome distraction even as it is a continuous reminder of all that has been lost to him. His body curling in on itself, squeezing and compressing as if it is trying to force even the memory of life from his very being. Hot and aching and tired. So very very tired.

Apathetic.

No longer does any meaning remain in the world. No purpose...no hope.

Just...emptiness.

And pain.

Not even a wish for death...for memory does not die. Existence does not end. This he *knows*...it merely changes form. That is not enough. Not now.

Oblivion.

Absence of thought, of self...of *knowing*.

And the words still ring through his mind. Echoing endlessly within his hollow shell, reverberating through his skull until he wishes he could dig into his own head, his own mind and *yank* them out. Wash clean his ears of them.

"This didn't have to come to be."

He's not even sure who spoke them. He doesn't really care. The truth of those words is its own agony. Raw and red, bleeding along with his dying heart. It's enough to know that the person they were intended for heard them. Even if he knows that there is no real remorse, no guilt...no suffering for that being...at least there is someone who condemns him.

It is the cruelty of it all that cuts him to the bone. The fact that it truly *didn't* have to be this way. He's *not* a mortal woman. He should never have even *worried* about this outcome...let alone suffer it.

All he would have needed was a small bit of Ambrosia a day. That's it. Just one...maybe two bites of it a day. Then his body would have been able to nurture and protect his baby...instead of rejecting it.

If he had been one of the twelve, he would have been strong enough to carry an infant to full term even without the magical properties of the Ambrosia. But he wasn't one of the twelve, merely one of the many "minor" gods. Not strong...and apparently, not important or worthy either.

Zeus refused his request for permission to increase his ration of Ambrosia from once a week to once a day. The King of the Gods feared he would become *too* powerful...and he didn't want to see Mischief with too much power in his hands. Eris, Ares, Hera, Cupid and Aphrodite all petitioned the old goat on his behalf and so a meeting of the Olympian Council was held. Only the twelve could vote, so that left Eris and Cupid out of it...and only Ares, Aphrodite and Hera on his side. The remaining nine voted against his petition.

His family and his lover's family shared as much of their Ambrosia as they could. Cupid almost injured himself giving up so much...but it was all for naught, for it was not enough. He had managed to carry his child all the way into the middle of the sixth month...and then...

They tried to save the child. Down deep, he knows that they did try.

In the end, their efforts were meaningless.

Now he is hollow.

Empty.

Shattered in ways that no one can fix.

And this didn't have to come to be. It didn't have to end in despair. It didn't have to leave him broken and alone.

That's what hurts the most.

END: Hollow