Author's Note:

So I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, if I end up miraculously writing a chapter purely because every cell in my body desperately wants to then by golly I'm gonna give it you now!

Honestly I think this is the final chapter but if anyone so desires an epilogue, AHS style, then by all means let me know!

Oh and by the way, I really recommend you listen to 'Over the Love' by Florence and the Machine during this chapter, for both obvious reasons and just because it's a really beautiful song, kay? (Not the mix though... and try to find a version that isn't weirdly pitched up? Not sure why so many versions of it are altered.)

Anyway, with that I present to you the tenth chapter and I hope you enjoy!

I do not own any AHS characters or the song used in this chapter.


As per her instructions, they moved her into the main tent. Jimmy carefully carried her in, his face stony and solemn, he sat her on the wheelchair they had decorated for the shows and knelt in front of her.

"Are you sure about this? You've survived this long, maybe there's a chance..."

He stopped when she put her hand on his face, a tender touch he hadn't expected from what was usually such a distant woman. She was smiling. She hadn't stopped since she'd finished telling them her instructions. He didn't ask her again.

The lights were turned off, only one remaining: the spotlight that lit her deathly pale skin so intensely it threatened to outshine it. They set up a record player on the side of the stage. Everything was meticulously planned so that one thing was a certainty. By the time the two of them were safely away from the campsite, only then would the right song play. She had to be absolutely alone.

And she was.

She vaguely registered the sound of the motorbike revving up and speeding off into the darkness. Everything was soft and quiet, the record spinning a gentle piano track into the air. Her fingers moved with it, as if they floated along the bars.

She laid her head back, letting her long hair fall behind her. She hadn't felt like this since Elsa had sung that fateful night, how the music left her: controlled, entranced. That night she had felt beautiful as she sang, closed her eyes and let her soul dance. Through lidded eyes, she gazed into the space above her, seeing nothing but dust particles. They danced, followed the stream of light wherever it went. Soon, she would also dance.

The record went silent for a moment and that silence brought her back, lifting her head to regard the sickeningly dark room in front of her. No audience.

The show hadn't started yet, but her heart began to beat hard in her chest. That was dangerous, she tried to will it into stillness but it pounded on. Death did not scare her, but the realization that he might not appear did.

This had to be the performance of her lifetime.

A G Minor chord. A preparatory sound.

She took a breath, her eyes fixed on that blackness. She trembled.

.

.

.

"Ever since I was a child,
I've turned it over in my mind,"

Why was her voice so weak? Why couldn't she tear her eyes away from that bloody darkness? The emptiness stared at her with hateful eyes.

"I sang by the piano,
Tore my yellow dress and...
Cried and cried and cried..."

She squeezed her eyes shut. Never had the darkness of her own mind seemed comforting in contrast to the reality facing her.

"I don't wanna see what I've seen,
To undo what has been done,"

Her hands lifted, as if by themselves, a puppet to the music. No, she was in control. This was her show. This was her true debut. She opened her eyes.

"Turn off all the lights
Let the morning..."

A breath.

"Come,
Come."

Her crescendo built, a spark of courage flickering in her withered heart. She let her notes build, echo, fill the empty space.

"Now there's green light in my eyes,
And my lover on my mind,"

Her gaze intensified, meeting every imaginary face in the crowd. They would hear her, feel her.

"And I'll sing from the piano,
Tear my yellow dress and –"

She threw her head back, her hand against her forehead. She was cold but her forehead burnt.

"Cry and cry and cry...
Over the love of you,"

Her back slowly arched as she slowly brought her head back front facing. For a moment she questioned if any of those faces in the crowd were real. If any truly saw her. She let those thoughts leave with her next breath. It wasn't over yet.

"On this champagne drunken home,
Against the current all alone –"

Her eyes turned down for just a moment, she exhaled her words and smiled.

"Everybody see I love him..."

Blinking back up, she lifted one hand, caressing the light that fell upon her.

"Cause it's a feeling that you get
When the afternoon is set
On the bridge into the city..."

Her hand extended, the light blocked by her palm. She wanted it so badly. Soon. She shook her head, throwing her hand down. The pain was returning.

"And I don't wanna see what I've seen,"

A blood drop trailed down her tail.

"To undo what has been done,"

Her head pounded, she hissed and snarled.

"Turn off all the lights,
Let the morning..."

With energy she didn't have, she cried out,

"Come."

.

.

.

The mists.

"Now there's green light in my eyes,"

Green mists.

"And my lover on my mind,"

He was here.

"And I'll sing from the piano,"

Her hands gripped the arms of her chair.

"Tear my yellow dress"

Where was he?

"And cry and cry and cry..."

The curtains parted, his troop walked in, standing in a line as a wind only felt by the heavy fabric of the tent made its presence known. The darkness had been filled, with moonlight, with faces that saw her. Knew her.

He was there too, but not by the entrance.

She had her eyes closed, her cheeks glittered.

"Cause you're a hard soul to save,
With an ocean in the way,
But I'll get around it,
I'll get around it..."

Her eyes opened, and she was looking directly into his. He stood right before her stage, barely beyond her reach. She smiled, and more shimmering tears betrayed her joy. She extended her hand.

"Cause you're a hard soul to save,
With an ocean in the way,
But I'll get around it!"

He took her hand, bent down and carefully pressed his wintry cold lips against her knuckles, she shivered. He never lost sight of her green eyes, but then she lost sight of him.

Shocked, she looked around, her kissed hand lifting to rest over her heart. Her voice softened, shaking, fearful. Had he left her here?

"Now there's green light in my eyes,
And my lover on my mind"

No, for there still stood his troop, gazing up at her on her throne. He was there still. He was behind her. The power rose up in her voice, as if his presence behind her was enough.

"I'll sing from that piano,
Tear my yellow dress
And cry, cry, cry
Over the love of you."

She became frenzied, her voice clear, haunting, insane.

"Cry, cry, cry,"

His arm snaked around her shoulder, his hand gliding over her collarbone, spreading its icy numbness wherever it touched. Her whole body moved with her screams of melodic anguish.

"Cry, cry, cry,
Cry, cry, cry,
Cry..."

Her last note was as close to a scream that a note could be. The singers on the track could never live up to such a sound. Beautiful and twisted.

.

.

.

The music continued without her, and she fell back, surrendered into the frozen arms of the ghost who had claimed her. The chair gave out, but she no longer needed it. Held in his grip, she needed only one thing now. His eyes.

"I can see the green light, I can see it in your eyes," the recorded singers droned, over and over, overpowered by the unwitting truth of their words. The world had already faded, only he remained. The mists swirling, rising higher.

His thumb dusted away what tears continued to fall, but he knew there was no more sorrow within her. His free hand took one of hers. He moved it, and pressed it against the demon's face. It had no say in this decision. This was his to make. He breathed slowly, as if he had lungs in need of it, "I have not forgotten your gift, my lovely..."

"Then give me yours," the words left her barely moving lips, only a shadow of her voice remained.

Regarding her, he smiled, "You do not need me for that now," He brushed his fingers over her eyes and they closed obediently, "But I can offer you this..." He moved closer.

She felt a gentle coldness press against her forehead, it lightly trailed down to her cheek and paused there for but a moment.

Then it froze her last breath.