A/N: This one was written while I was supposed to be studying for my Classical Mythology final. I was reading about Dionysus (my favourite Greek god!), and being the person that I am, I got completely sidetracked by the story of him and his first love, Ampelus, the boy who was gored to death by an enraged bull and whose corpse, watered by the tears of Dionysus, gave forth the first vine. From this vine came wine, which, quoth the textbook, "induces in partakers the same intoxicating joy that his first love gave to the wine god." Aww. Taking advantage of Dionysus' vulnerability following the death of Ampelus, Hera, in her never-ending quest for revenge against her adulterous husband and his victims, drives him (temporarily?) insane, "compelling him to wander crazily through Egypt, Syria and Asia Minor." And this text, my friends, is what was going on in Dionysus' head at the time. Whew!

***

Blood. There was blood everywhere. On the ground, in a pool, rivulets running out like a web. On his clothes, dark, dark stains. On his face, running over his lips into his open mouth, that mouth... On my hands and it was slick and warm.

On my hands.

Ampelus.

Why? I told you! Didn't I? Don't go near... Listen to me! Don't! Your laughter. "No danger..." There was. I was right. Small comfort.

Oh you, my... mine. You were. And now what's left? This, this drink, aptly blood-red. It came from you, from in you. And so I lose myself in you again. Drink and remember you.

Remember sunshine on his golden hair. Golden hair, matted with blood. No! Golden hair tousled in the morning, sliding between my fingers.

Remember his voice, the soft words. "Always..." Forget the other, that scream. "Dionysus! Dio-!" Forget it. Drink and forget you.

Drink and dream. Of you, always. We dreamt, he and I, of days of gold, nights of silver. Long, eternal... Infinite time. Infinite dreams, visions of things to come. Those blue eyes always watching tomorrow. Always starry.

Starry... The night sky... You and I, we could've flown with the stars. Nothing more are they now than droplets of the drink spilled from my cup, droplets of tears scattered across a mourning veil.

Will they never dry? Will nothing change? The world should've stopped, Helios halted his horses, and yet... Not even a god, son of God... Not even love. It's inexorable. Cold.

Cold, even when everything is hot. The beat from the drums, feverish, pumping hot blood through my veins. My skin, these women... The sun burns the ground, flashes of white light, and I close my eyes, and I fall.

Where am I? Have I lost myself yet? Have I lost them? No, no, we're all still here. We'll be here forever, won't we? These mad women and I. Not even death will part us.

Death.

Ampelus.