Disclaimer: I don't own there characters. Never have and never will, because I am but a poor, lowly college student majoring in something that will probably never get me enough money to buy such amazing things such as Xena and Gabrielle. But oh well, at least there is fan fiction.

Author's Notes: It's been a while, I know. But I got busy...very busy, and then everything went blank. Totally blank. But I got over that. Also, sorry nothing came out of a sequel to "Late Night Cravings." I was working on it then...'stuff' happened.  Anyway...

This takes place during "The Ides of March" which becomes pretty obvious as you read. It's not long; not long at all. And is heavy on the angst. But, if you've seen the episode, you know what happens. This is just Gabrielle's thoughts.

I got this idea earlier tonight, while at rehearsal for a play I'm in. Another play I'm reading is titled Resurrection Blues by Arthur Miller. That started it. Then, after rehearsal, I got back to my apartment and popped in Godspell and watched that. And the last scene in that musical got me thinking. If you don't know it, it's about Jesus. Wonderful music and great playwrighting. Amazing work by Stephen Schwartz. And then I started listening to Jesus Christ Superstar. Wonderful music by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

Anyway, I started thinking (not something that happens on a regular basis). I thought, 'My God, dying like that is horrible! Having to hang there and know that you are going to die...no ifs, ands, or buts about it.' So, I figured that since I had a "crucifixion" theme going on (I'm going to Hell for that) I popped in "The Ides of March." And that's when it hit me...Gabrielle's going through so much here...what is it? And this came out.




Thoughts on Being Crucified

By: Alcandre


When I'd first heard the word 'crucifixion' uttered I didn't know what it meant. It was just a word. But the way it was said was enough to tell me that it was a bad thing. So, being a normal child, I asked my mother about it. And she looked down at me with an anguished look on her face and said, "Child, I hope that is something you will never have to see or hear about again."

So, I just shrugged it off. But years later, when I was in my 15th summer, I heard it mentioned again. And this time, I asked a friend of mine about it. And they went into detail.

I had nightmares for weeks.

That one time, years later, in Britannia... I thought that was bad. Of course, it didn't fully happen but I was up on the cross and the hammer was coming toward my legs. And now that I think about it...maybe being crucified then would have been better than what happened. But I digress.

Then it happened. I heard the word again and I knew, I just knew, I wasn't getting out of it. My soulmate, my best friend, my greatest love in the known world, and my protector was in the cell with me and we were both helpless.

Many people have times in their lives that they say were terrible. Well, I think the worst time in my life was not when the nail was being put through my hands but being put through her hands.

Don't get me wrong. I felt the wood on my hand as they readied the hammer. I felt the crushing of the bones in my hand as the nail forced its way through. I felt the blood rush out of my body and onto my palm as the veins burst. And that was just the left hand. And even though I had been through a portion of that in India with Alti that was nothing compared to the real thing.

But her face. Gods, her face. I just wish I could have held her. I wanted nothing more than to pull those nails out of my feet and hands and rush to her, cradling her in my arms again.

And then they were lifting us. Lifting the crosses, with us attached. And as the cross got higher, my body started pulling down toward the ground. And because of that, the nails...oh gods, the nails seemed to rip my skin even more. And when the cross was finally all the way up, that last big jerk made me want to cry.

I remember thinking, 'Please kill me now. Can't you just cut off my head like any normal, quick execution? Besides, that's less work for you, right?' I was still rambling up until the end.

And with what little strength I had left, I pulled my head over, just slightly, and looked at my love. And I felt at peace. And I had my final living thoughts.

'First,' I heard my inner voice mutter, 'I NEVER want to go through that again. And I, thankfully, never will. And second,' I gave a small, very small smile. 'Let me be with her. I could barely live without her. Don't make me live the afterlife without her.'

And then the pain was gone. Nothing. No weight. No splintery wood on my body. No freezing cold. Nothing.

And she was in front of me. Smiling. She was in front of me, her dark hair blowing in the wind and her blue eyes twinkling.

'Thank you,' I thought. 'Oh, thank you so very much. She's here and everything's alright. Yes, everything's fine.'

The End

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