A/N: Hello again, all! -bows- Yes,Carmen Takoshi hasreturned from her weeks of silence with yet another one-shot for all your shounen-ai Gundam SEED reading pleasure. So far, my one-shots have been getting good reviews...I think...yeah, so I'll trust in myself, and trust in you, dear readers and potential reviewers. :) Yowza.

Well, obvious OTP-ness here. My fault entirely. Forgive me, forgive me. Curse of the hardcore fangirl.

Just a sidenote to the sidenote...I actually wrote this months ago, and I was just extremely bored and needing to write, so I whipped it back out and finished it up. I wasn't really intending to put it up. I just don't think it's that great, but...anyway, I'll let you all be the judge. Happy readings!

Disclaimer: Hajime Yatate and Yoshiyuki Tomino own Gundam SEED, not Carmen Takoshi.

The Mockingbird's Song
one-shot by Carmen Takoshi

Athrun…don't…don't cry for me…okay?

Okay?

"Damnit!"

"Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!"

"Stop it, Yzak."

"Damnit!"

"Stop it, Yzak."

"What do you care if I do or not?"

"I care more than you think, now shut up!"

Yzak said nothing, and Dearka said nothing, and Athrun said an even deeper nothing as he pulled his helmet from his head, twirling it mutely in his hands before placing it with undue ease in his locker. The resulting click of metal against metal prompted both his companions, now his only companions, to turn their heads as though in shock, and Athrun blushed, muttering a "sorry" before unzipping the front of his flight suit. He felt suddenly stifled. Yzak's stare pierced through him.

"Sorry?" he echoed, sarcasm grating horribly in his voice, "Sorry? Is that all you can say, Zala! That you're sorry?"

"Yzak…"

"Don't Yzak me, Dearka!" the eldest one snapped fiercely, directing his flashing eyes only momentarily towards him before turning towards Athrun once more, "It's your fault, you know that? It's your fault!"

Athrun's emerald eyes widened at the accusation, but he still kept his silence, and Yzak made angrily towards him, floating easily and quickly in the gravity-less atmosphere. Dearka reached futilely out as though to stop him.

"Yzak!" he protested again, but his cry went unheard by a mind clouded by rage, and he could only wince as Athrun found himself violently slammed back on the metal paneling that was the wall.

Strangely enough, he did nothing to defend himself against the sudden attack, although his features contorted slightly at the impact. It was not the pain in his already aching body, but the look in Yzak's eyes that scared him the most, and this fear made his prior statement seem even truer.

It's your fault, you know that! It's your fault!

"Listen to me, damnit! Listen to me!"

This time, Athrun let escape a yelp of pain and surprise as his shoulders were jolted against the wall. Yzak was snarling, his face practically up against his, and Athrun had to work hard so that he would not squirm under his gaze. No, he could not show weakness in front of him, no matter how afraid, or hurt, or close to tears he was.

"He went for you, do you realize that?" Yzak was screaming, and his tone was shrill to the point of being painful, "He went to save you, because you couldn't even cover your own stupid ass! Do you realize that?"

Athrun looked blankly up at him as though he was not understanding his words, and by this time Dearka had placed his hand carefully on Yzak's shoulder, attempting to draw him away, his voice low and pleading.

"Yzak…please…get off hi-…"

"No, you get off me!"

The silver-haired soldier jerked himself forcefully out of his companion's grip and tossed Athrun sideways against the lockers, which he hit with an awful crash. But not a sound came from his mouth as he steadied himself dazedly. His head throbbed. He raised a hand to it, but did not feel his arm move.

Yzak moved towards him again, and had even reached out. Athrun inadvertently recoiled, pressing his entire slim frame against the lockers, and as he felt a shiver rack his body he saw the fiercely triumphant light in his elder teen's eyes.

He's scared, and it's all thanks to me.

Yzak's pursuit was cut short, however, as he was roughly seized around the waist by an impatient Dearka, tired of watching the one-sided conflict.

"That's enough, Yzak!" he yelled, dragging him away from the other, which proved to be difficult due to the lack of gravity and his companion's struggling, "We don't need any more casualties…"

"Is that all he is to you?" Yzak screamed back at him, twisting his thin body in the invading grasp, "A casualty? A damned casualty, Dearka?"

His cries were awful, but no longer because of the rage in his features, but the hurt in his voice. A swelling torrent of pain, a fresh wound torn in an already bleeding heart. How was it that Athrun was suddenly able to read him?

"Let go of me! Let go of me, damn you!"

There were a few muffled thumps, and Dearka sank back, releasing his hold while muttering a broken "shit". Yzak gazed mutely at him, then turned his attention once more towards Athrun.

"…I just…I just don't care anymore…"

He who had been expecting an outburst and beating similar to the ones that Dearka had received. Athrun tried to formulate an answer to Yzak soft-spoken phrase, but by the time he had gotten over the shock of everything, the silver-haired boy had turned sharply to leave. Something landed on Athrun's wrist. Water…a tear?

Then Yzak was gone, leaving nothing but the hiss of the locker room door and the remnants of an echo in his wake.

Slowly, Dearka had made his way towards the door as well, his features still twisted in a pained grimace, but he tried his best to shoot Athrun a smile.

"Don't worry about him…I'll talk to him…" he assured, and opened the door.

"No."

The other stopped short, and looked back, seeing Athrun's gaze suddenly determined. Almost cold.

"Don't speak to him," said Athrun slowly, not looking at him, "just…leave him alone. Okay?"

"Uh…yeah, okay…whatever."

Then he too had gone, and the place was horribly silent.

Then, something, somewhere, fell, making a sound like a leaf brushing the ground, or a gentle hand against one's skin. It had been so long since Athrun had felt that. No, that was not true. He had touched him, once, in reassurance. Only once, yet he would never forget that single circumstance.

It's alright, Athrun.

Asking himself vaguely what he was doing, Athrun took a step, then another, and opened the locker closest to his. It opened easily, with a cheerful squeak of its hinges, then without warning a cascade of papers emerged from the depths of the it, scattering into the air, where it floated in a cloud of white and finer black.

Music sheets.

The tears came suddenly, overwhelming him so that he could not stand. He fell, just as the papers had, and in his short descent accidentally tore something else from inside the locker's door. A crimson heap of fabric landed in his arms, and Athrun saw his own tears floating like bubbles between him and the uniform; a uniform that he remembered to be slightly too large on a slim frame, and slightly too long and slack around legs that were not quite long enough.

"Nicol…"

The moment that Athrun had uttered the name, he sobbed and pitched forward, feeling that he wanted to retch but could not. The ZAFT Elite uniform was crumpled in his hands, and he crumpled it more as it was crushed between his chest and his legs. His tears flowed freely in the cold air, and suddenly he raised his head and screamed, not caring who heard, wanting the whole ship to hear. Wanting the world to hear his long, high, heartbroken scream; wanting the world to know…

We've lost Nicol Amalfi.

From the direction that he had come, a voice rang out, a shrill cry as sharp as a bullet's trail, and laced with the sorrow and regret of a thousand men.

"No…Athrun…don't…"

Abruptly seized with a terrible breathlessness, Yzak clamped his pale hands over his ears and shook his head earnestly, like a child, but nothing he did could block out the sound of Athrun's grief until it had died away of its own accord, and the ship's corridors were left in heavy silence.

He had arrived at his quarters, and still his comrade's scream echoed in his mind, over and over like some evil mockingbird's song.

Nicol…Nicol…

"Stop! Stop!"

His knees jarred against the edge of his bed as he rushed across the room. To do what? Try to escape? He collapsed with a fractured cry, hitting the softness with his whole length and making no move to get up afterwards. His entire body shook with an emotion foreign to him, and when he raised his eyes from the sheets to brush a trembling hand over his face, it returned wet with atypical tears staining the thin fingers.

"Give him back to me…" he whispered to the droplets of grief.

"Yzak? I…I love you, okay? So don't…please…don't cry anymore…"

A melody. His melody. His voice, his laughter. His reassurances. Don't cry. Don't cry…a tear! But a tear it had been then. Just one beautiful, glistening tear, first on his own cheek, then on Nicol's fine hand as he had wiped it away. A smile. A kiss.

"You'll be alright. We'll all be alright. You don't have to cry."

"I do…I do! Nicol…"

"Why…why?"
He remained on that bed until dawn of the next day, clutching his pillow to him like an infant yearning for comfort in the night. But there would be no comfort for Yzak, not when the bed was to remain cold, the sheets slick as imprisoning ice. Not when the words that died on his pale lips where engraved in crystal cruelty in his mind.

"Give him back to me!"

"Give me back…my Nicol."
(A/N: Well, that was it. (Sorry if I'm ruining the moment by talking again here.) So...usual comment: no flames please. I don't want any "Aaah! My innocence! Aaah! My untainted mind!". It wasn't even yaoi, so...all's good, right? Riiiiight.

One more thing I need to take up with you guys, then I'll shut up and let you go on with your daily lives. Are you listening? Ex-shellent. See, thing is, I think it's time I had a beta reader. You know, someone to read over and review and correct anything that I write before I submit it? Great, we understand each other. I was just thinking as I was submitting this that it would be a good thing to have some pre-post-feedback. Some raw crit for a raw piece of writing, y'know?

So if anyone is interested, review and/or email me. Of course, it would be crucial to have quite an extensive knowledge about the anime series Gundam SEED. You don't have to know extremely in-depth stuff likehow to spell"Iglestellung" (I'm not even sure if that's right...)or Yzak's DOB and blood type (August 8th, C.E. 54; blood type O), but you know what I mean, right? Yes, I'm uber fangirl. Believe it! (ARGH, NARUTO, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!)

Also make sure that you'll have enough free time to actually read and crit well. If you're like me and have just emerged into a world where there's homework around every corner, then reconsider. I'm not as important as your homework.

Well, now that that's said, I shall retire. -takes of random hat and bows- Good evening, and until next time.)