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Disclaimer; Duh, this is FAN FICTION. Don't know what that means? Wiki it. Sue me if you must, but all you're getting is some old ramen and a used dissection kit.

Warnings; This is based off a Shounen Ai, fits in canon time, and takes place mostly in someone's mind.

Overwhelming

Kalsoklv

How did this get to this point? I found myself wondering as I remained motionless on the blue corner sofa set I had been sitting on since the beginning of this fiasco. And just what point is it I'm at? As I thought over the past few days I found myself more overwhelmed than I could remember being in almost a decade. I had no control over anything; I couldn't even find the strength to raise my head, much less stand, even if I had the ability to think of such matters. As a myriad of memories and their accompanying emotions spun through my mind at a speed defying gravity, much less my rapidly dwindling ability to capture them, to put them back in the dark depths they once resided in, the sounds of running footsteps fading down the stairs of my apartment into the night coincided with the constant pounding of my head.

Or, maybe, it was the sound of his footsteps, chasing after me in his borrowed clothes. The thought of the flower pinned in his hair, looking so much like a girl like that, flitted through my mind. The fact that Shuichi had gone to the length of dressing like that had left me speechless. He looks cute, he's ridiculous, why would he do such a thing, he clings to me so, is he brave or stupid, I just want… my body was on auto, simply walking away, as I had warred with the impulse to laugh, to cry…

To rage at the injustice of it as the words were spat at me by that redheaded punk, telling me it was my fault that his best friend was beaten and broken. That he had been forced to "do tricks" for some asshole I had never even heard of. Grabbing my collar he asked in a voice laced with hate why I didn't care. Why I hadn't cast his friend away before now, before he was serious, before he was hurt. I didn't hear any of it; the fact that Shuichi was hurt, that this Taki character had done it, had me gazing at a shade of brilliant crimson. I could hear myself asking where I could find Aizawa; for once every fragment of my mind agreed. We were pissed.

Why was it I was so focused, so angry, so…. I don't understand. I want it to stop, this whirlwind of everything to abate, before I lost any more of my tenuous balance.

I suppose that was what my father thought as well, when he was all but attacked during the engagement ceremony. I was surprised Shuichi had recovered that quickly. I had never actually been raped, but I was sure that between that and the beating he had received that night he wouldn't have been that…enthusiastic. I had promised him I would disappear from his life, promised myself I would do just that, disappear without tainting anyone anymore. Couldn't I just die?

The silence that was now assailing my ears was like the silence that filled the room where Shuichi lay in the bed I had placed him after he had collapsed, still clinging desperately to my shirt. That silence was broken only by the sound of water dripping from a cloth back into the bowl I had placed near the chair my body refused to move from. Until he opened his eyes…

"Are you alright, Yuki?" The sound of his voice woke me from my reverie. "It was something I said, wasn't it? Did he hurt you?"

"Something like that" I found myself replying. In my mind I was still seeing his tearstained face, pale from all the blood he had lost, drawn with exhaustion. His eyes, embedded within deep, dark circles, were swimming in barely contained tears; fear and pain clearly playing in their depths. I could almost feel his trembling yet fierce embrace, his words forlornly blaming himself for everything.

Or was that reality?

I slumped still further into the sofa, my hand releasing the smaller one I had captured at some point, when was that? as it flew to my face. It was too much, I couldn't take it any more. Every fiber of my being was steeped in the knowledge that it was all my fault, that all I caused was pain, that I had killed him, that he was crying because of me. Anyone who knew me was cursed, I was a demon of death and despair, like in one of my novels. "It's all my fault, I remember, it was all my fault you..." I couldn't finish, my guilt was tearing even my words to a shredded ruin.

"Yuki? What's wrong?"

My mind shattered at that moment, the pieces scattered to the winds, overflowing in torrents. After everything he wanted to know if I was alright? As if it mattered if my worthless self vanished from existence. I was to much of a coward to just end it, to just die. I continued to plague this place with merely with my presence.

"Your eyes are the same as mine because…" I might never know what I was going to say, he cut me off with still more self deprecations.

I found my voice, choked as it was with this crushing weight. "I…really wanted to be with you…but I…can't. I couldn't remember it. But what if I do? I'll betray you, repeatedly…I can't bear it anymore" and I couldn't. It was as if I were weeping tears of my own blood, and I wish I were. Maybe then I could repent…. "I'm sorry." As I tried futily to clear my vision I lost the last of my control. "I don't ever want to go back…to killing" I buried face into his shoulder, sobbing out the words as if it were my last confession, clinging to him in an unconscious need for someone's, anyone's, warm embrace. When did I become so weak? So pathetic? Those questions might come to me later, but for now all I wanted, all I needed, was someone to free me from this unbearable pain, this unfathomable agony. Why did it hurt so? What was it that ached so much I couldn't breathe?

Those arms, wrapping around me so gently as they eased my trembling body back into the cushions, they were so warm. I wished they would stay wound around me forever. Perhaps if they did I wouldn't feel so empty, as cold and useless as the snow the damned pen name part of me hated passionately signified. I am a walking contradiction, part of me wants, part of me rejects. What is it about this person that makes me feel, for once since that shadowy night, whole? Like all that I am is one?

I could barely see, my head was splitting open with all the questions and images that flew through it like birds in flight. All I could sense at all was the touch of his hands running through my hair, tracing circles down my exhausted back. He was saying something, but I couldn't hear a word of it. I snapped something at him, but inside I cowered at the thought of being left alone again. But this time it was different. He didn't walk away like everyone, giving me the solitude I had probably demanded; and wouldn't survive. He yelled at me, and this time I heard the words he so loudly presented. "You bastard, I'm trying to help you! I spouting all these embarrassing things to cheer you up!" "My head is killing me" I replied. "I haven't cried in over six years. Just shut up!" I expected to be left alone then, no-one in their right mind would stay around with that kind of treatment. I didn't deserve the strength he was giving me by simply being in the room.

"Wow, six whole years?! I cry every day! You're so cool!" he said "and the one you cry in front of after so long is me?!" I clung to the pillow lying beneath my face as I answered such an abnormal response to my snapping. "Cool, huh?" I managed to say. Even my voice was prostrated with the weight that pressed me deep into the cushioned sofa. "It's like you have a dark past or something….oh wait, you do! You're just going to leave me hanging about it, aren't you?" he laughed. That laugh rippled over me and as it did I could feel the joy that accompanying it. I couldn't help it, even if I had noticed it. That joy and the relief it mysteriously brought with it engulfed me with peace. For the first time in even longer than I had cried, the smile on my face was of pure happiness.

As I drifted off the last vestiges of my migraine finally began to loosen their hold on me. The only thing that held me was the overwhelming warmth of his embrace.

Having to explain the story means I haven't done my job, but I'll give a hint or two. Images in Yuki's mind are directly linked to the situation, and since I've both read, watched, and assisted in translating Gravitation verbal lines are semi-direct quotes. For those who for whatever reason didn't figure that out already.

Flame away, the button demands it.