Summary: He's falling apart, like corroding metal. Like tin.

Note: Sinedd x Tia, because I had the idea and because I could.

Warning(s): Angst, some one sided love.

Disclaimer: I do not own Galactik Football, it belongs to Jetix.

Tin

Sometimes

you just need to

get some fresh air

and breathe.

Then start again.

Metal corrodes.

It is a simple fact. Known for so, so long. What very few people knew was that other things corroded too, because they had looked and seen. Pay attention for a while to the passing, tiny moments as they went by. They had felt it. Now, Sinedd had looked in the mirror. He had seen himself with cold, black eyes that belonged to him and he had felt the dark black smoke crawling around inside his body and crying out. He had been corrupted by it at the start, manipulated into believing it would make things better. Make him stronger. Make him the best, well, not that he wasn't already but he had just needed it. Yes, it wasn't just a passing whim to receive it, no, not a want. A need. A pure, animalistic need.

But now, it was killing him. Oh, his body was corroding. Under these harsh conditions, his broken leg stopping him from letting this thing inside him free. It was alive. It wasn't supposed to be. It was just supposed to be a tool, a toy, something he never really thought about reaching out and grabbing. Like a stolen playing card from Micro Ice, in their home so long ago. It was easy to take things, but he'd never been taught to give, so he never had.

His legs were buckling beneath him, giving in weakly. A side street, a hidden path, somewhere with no fans with their pity or worried looks from the idiots who actually believed they could help. He didn't need them. Sitting on the floor, he slid back, panting heavily. His back slapped against the wall, releasing a sharp burst of pain through his body. But that was nothing. No, was the wall even trying to mock him? Someone could split his back open with a knife, carve words into his flesh with a blunt stone but the pain would never compare. Not to this.

"You need air." A female voice, familiar, just like the blurry face through half-opened eyes. White blonde hair, messy and unfeminine. Then they catch him out. Icy eyes, blue, colder than his in colour yet warming somehow. He hissed as she pulled at his arm, looping it over her shoulder. Oh, he knew who she was. This girl, this Snow Kid, this enemy. She was the one who cared so much about Rocket, the very one to prevent him from playing, to stop him from being able to release the ugly black flux inside him. She had the nerve to instruct him though, to tell him what he needed. To try and help him, even. Why would she help him? His mouth curved into an unpleasant sneer, and she clearly caught it as she began to pull on him, but she ignored it. He felt taken aback at that, if only slightly. He wouldn't admit to shock. No, the other Snow Kids would glare back, just leave him there.

"You're the enemy. I don't need your help." Bitter words between laboured sucking in of air had no effect. She merely pulled his arm further up, feeling him slip away from her. Finally, he saw slits of light. He could hear the voices, shocked shouts of fans pointing to them and running. A Snow Kid and a Shadow together, one supporting the other. He felt her pull him gently back to the floor, laying his head on her lap. He tried to move away, but she grabbed his arm violently and held him down.

"Why do you believe that when anyone can see you do need help?" She asked, and he stilled. People were calling for paramedics, clearly seeing the situation that he was in. He bit his lip in thought whilst the chaos unfolded, pausing to actually think about her question. He knew he needed help. He knew it. But that was one thing he had never wanted. Pity, worry, help. He didn't need it. No, he didn't. Because help went hand in hand with those things, and he hated them, he hated them so much it stung. He opened his eyes when he felt himself being taken away from her for the first time, when he was taken away by the paramedics. They kept telling him he was going to be fine. Liars. But she wasn't a liar. No, not at all. So then, in that small, insignificant moment, he wasn't going to lie to her. He'd make it fair.

"Because I don't want it." His eyelids slid shut.

He awoke on a bed, a thin white sheet pulled over him and a gadget by his side. He saw a screen. Television, at least there was something to make him slightly less bored. Even the outside of this place was better than being stuck in here, but it was something to do. Channels flicked in seconds, the programmes moulding into one another with each change. Then he caught sight of something strange. He had grown used to seeing himself on screens everywhere when he had played football, but this time he was on it for a different reason. Films, pictures, of that blonde girl helping him. Cradling him, saving him, refusing to let him waste away. Refusing to let him corrode into nothing. Rocket had told him about her once, and now the television was telling him about her too. Because she'd saved him. She'd stumbled out of an alley with the enemy, and managed to keep him alive. Tia.

That was a better name than enemy.

"You let him live."

Rocket said it in a strange way, more awkward than usual when they were together in public. She was well aware that her boyfriend hated the one she had helped, who she had 'saved' according to the television. She looked up at him from her bed, standing at the door with a distant look in his eyes as he stared at her. She smiled weakly at him.

"Wouldn't you do the same?" She questioned, dropping the magazine she wasn't really concentrating on reading to her side. It hit the sheet with a gentle flop, ignoring the scream she wanted to look out when golden eyes connected with hers gently to tell her an answer she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to hear to begin with.

"No. Not for him." Rocket whispered, his words cutting sharply into the air. Her eyes widened. He wouldn't help who he thought was going to fall to the floor if he didn't support him, someone who could be dying. She could understand why, really, she could. Rocket blamed himself for the things he done, but deep down he needed somebody else to blame too. So he blamed Sinedd for the things he had done. He couldn't blame himself for hurting her. She couldn't blame him, either. But she wouldn't blame Sinedd. She wouldn't blame anyone. No, sometimes things just went wrong when you set out with good intentions. She never found someone to blame, really, so she stuck with that. She'd deal with blame later, because she was human, just like Rocket and Sinedd were, and humans would rather blame others than accept responsibility for their actions. That was just the way it was.

She understood. She really tried to. But even so, she couldn't stop herself from going to see him on hospital. Nobody else would. His team weren't friends, they were a group of sheer power and force bundled together. They'd left him alone after his injuries, so they wouldn't see him then. He had no family, either. They were dead. But even so, she didn't go to see him out of pity. It was because she wanted to know, she needed to know.

"Would I save your boyfriend?" Sinedd asked, blank eyes watching the strange visitor, sitting barely five metres away from him, just watching, waiting for his answer. She nodded. She needed to know that somewhere, in one of them, there was the will to fix something. To make things a little more caring between them, to make sure neither of them were hurt. Or rather, that they wouldn't hurt each other. He tried to understand that, because he could tell that was what it was about. No, it was that she didn't want him to hurt Rocket. He tried to smile; giving her what he supposed was an odd grin. He wasn't used to smiling much, just smirking.

"I just want to know." She muttered, her eyes swivelling to the blank wall behind him. She didn't like being around him. Even if he hadn't once called her the enemy, even if she had helped him, she didn't like it. He made her uneasy, no matter how hard he tried to treat her like he supposed he should treat someone who was a friend. He'd never had many of those who wouldn't sell each other out for material goods, so it was a new thing to learn. Something to keep him amused, somehow. She was so close, too. He could reach out and frighten her away with an attempt to kill her, or instead he could just give a soft touch. He could throttle or stroke, spit at or kiss, hate or love her. He could, if he wanted. He could. She was close enough, and his (knowingly sick) humour on thinking about that make him laugh. She clearly thought it was for a different reason.

Her eyes met his for seconds before the chair smashed the floor, and she backed away. Those warm blue orbs on the news, filled with care as she stared down at him from the photo became icy and filled with hate. Her lips were pursed; she was trying to stop herself from snarling. She was obvious. Oh so obvious, and it was almost hilarious. But somehow, it wasn't. She had reached out to him, and he'd laughed in her face. She'd thought it was because he would let someone she had come to love die, let them rot in some God forsaken alley until some unknown person came along and stumbled over a freezing, pulse less person on the ground. Rocket would do that to him, he was sure. But if this girl didn't want him to let him die, if she wanted that as payment, he would. He coughed, raising a hand as she began to move towards the door, still staring at him with utter loathing. She stopped in her tracks.

"For you, I would save him." He said, although she knew why all too well. The loathing removed itself from her face, and he had to say she looked much better without it. Hate was an ugly thing, something he was close too. Hate wouldn't suit her; it wouldn't fir like a glove. He'd been the first one to take a stab at hurting others when they were young and living on Akillian, so he'd grown accustomed to it long ago. But it wouldn't fit her. Not at all.

"In repayment." She said, and he smirked at that. She'd caught him out. He looked to her, staring at her. It clearly unnerved her, because she fled in an instant. The door slammed behind her, the sound of her running feet echoing in his head. A nurse opened the door moments after, staring at him with a questioning look. He just told her to tell the girl running away that he was getting out next week. He didn't need Tia to know anything else.

It was easier that way.

"New life. You gave me it."

Tia stared at Sinedd, and Mei did too. She was that girl D'Jok apparently liked so much, another Snow Kid. She'd clearly tried to get Tia to take an interest in shopping, but it was clear that her actions were to no avail. A camera was in Tia's hand, switched off, but there nonetheless. It seemed the brunette resented the item, so it was clearly the usual for Tia to have it. What was not usual was for him to go into a clothing shop for women at the opportune time of seeing Tia being dragged into it, and then watching as her friend waltzed around gathering clothes for her to try on.

"But do you regret it?" He whispered in her ear, hot breath making her squirm in discomfort. She was so much smaller than him, he was pretty sure he could crush her. But he didn't want to do that. No, he liked her. She was different to the normal person. She'd save someone that everyone around her would think to be her enemy, then she would think him to possess some form of kindness like everyone else she knew did even though pretty much everyone else knew for certain that he owned no such thing. She'd wanted to believe he'd help someone she loved so dearly, just because he could, not because she needed him too. Mei grabbed her arm, pulling her away from him in an instant.

"Why are you in this shop? Are you a girl now, or are you just here to terrorise someone who actually showed you kindness?" Mei spoke vehemently, clearly sure of herself. He flashed his teeth at her wickedly, a smiling face to break some of her confidence. This girl was supposed to be pretty, yet she seemed so ugly underneath. Just like he was.

"I was going to buy her a gift in here, hoping you wouldn't notice me so I could send her something she liked as a thank you, actually. But she caught me out, so I gave in and told her. Isn't that right, Tia?" He smiled, a fake thing that made him look more pleasant. She opened her mouth in a strange shape, a circle of shock at his clear lie. Even so, she shook it away, giving him a strangely normal look back. A smile, gentle but fake. Two could play a game, just like it took two to lie well. She wasn't happy, though, he could tell.

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry, Mei. Do you mind if I talk to him quickly? He needs to listen when I tell him anyone would have done the same thing." Tia smiled, also clearly lying through her teeth. He could see Mei wasn't convinced. She clearly wouldn't help him at all. She hated him, hated him just as much as Rocket and D'Jok did. Perhaps even more than Micro Ice. What a wonderful surprise that he was able to cause such a powerful force that loathed one thing. Even so, she nodded to Tia, trusting her and waltzing far down one of the further aisles of the large room, trying to interest herself in something trivial like dresses.

"So, you do lie. Amusing." He grinned, leaning back against the wall behind him. She glared at him, although it was a pleading look in her eyes when she stared at him like that. She didn't want to be like this with him. He was able to frighten her with sentences like that, small, startling ones that told her that she saved his life. It scared her. It scared her, and he could tell she had the feeling that he liked it. To be honest, he didn't. He just needed her to know that she'd helped him more than she realised. They'd been able to take away most of the smog with help from Technoid, and he knew it probably wasn't for a good purpose but he wasn't in pain anymore and he was breathing fine. She really had saved him, just as others said, using that word so lightly. She'd given him a new life, and a chance to acquire a new breath if his leg was able to heal up because the disease-like thing inside him not letting it heal well was gone. He couldn't fault her for doing something like that.

"What do you want?" She asked, and he smiled. He couldn't fault her, and he didn't want to scare her. No, he just wanted to play with her. His thoughts at the hospital when she had left had given him something interesting to mentally debate with himself for a while. He could kill her for helping him, but he didn't need to do that. He didn't want to. No, his other options were far better, although only the ones that wouldn't drive her completely insane. He threw a random dress in her arms, then grinned madly.

"I want you to try that on, and show me how it looks." He stated as though it were the most simple thing in the world. She looked up at him, clearly confused, but he pointed towards the assistant and waved his hand to shoo her over there. She walked over, and he followed almost automatically. He winked cheekily at Mei as he walked past, a small smirk of victory to accompany it. He'd managed to get her to look like she was interested in shopping, and Mei had been trying to get her interested all day. She pouted her lips, and rapidly began to flick through clothes again. He'd rained on her parade, and it almost made him laugh. That girl sure was silly, expecting to win against him. He never took kindly to losing.

It took mere seconds for Tia to emerge from the changing room, and Mei had quickly glanced over at her. Blue suited her, and Sinedd began to think maybe dresses weren't so pointless. As Mei looked away, clearly needing to find something that made her look just as good, Sinedd made sure the guy at the till wasn't looking and shoved her in the booth. He clamped a hand over her mouth; to make sure she wouldn't screech. He removed it softly.

Then he crashed his lips down on hers. Soft, pink lips. He was beginning to understand why the Captain of her team liked her so much. She wasn't a pitying, weak, idiot. No, she knew what she got herself into most of the time. Well, all of the time, except this once. But the moment was short lived. A hard shove on his chest threw him to the floor, and she looked hurt. Tears were filling her eyes.

"Just leave me alone. That's all I want from you." She whispered between quiet sobs, staring at the floor. He frowned, checking before doing just as she said. He left the shop fast, crashing out the door, throwing himself past people as he ran as fast as he could to the alley where she saved him. Only there did he finally allow his legs to give way, and take him to the floor. Just as it had when she saved him, his back smashed against the wall.

He didn't understand it. This immense guilt, this hurt he had caused. All he wanted was to kiss her, to find out what it was like. Some of his fans had tried to kiss him before, but it was nothing. Those girls didn't know anything about him. They didn't know what he was really like. But she did, and she accepted him anyway. So he'd treated her as he treated everyone else. In this stupid, arrogant way where he just got what he wanted. He hadn't treated her as a friend; he'd tried to and failed. He'd screwed up, just as he always did. She'd given him new life, sure, and a few more things. Some he'd never thought he'd have. Compassion, care for someone other than himself, and one more thing. She'd made him love air, love to live again because he was going to be able to do what he'd always done and be able to breathe again. She'd given him a brand new start, a chance not to be a Shadow, to be something that could take in the same oxygen everyone else did instead of smoke and she'd made him love that new start however unintentionally it had been. Who was he even kidding?

She'd made him love her.

She had stolen it.

If anyone saw a blonde haired thief, they'd have to catch her. She'd grabbed his heart and she'd ran with it, and with his heart she took his life. The smog had birthed again inside him, stronger and stabbing with more pain than it ever had. He had a strange feeling it was because of her, too. Because he wasn't supposed to love her. No, it was wrong, this feeling. Strange and foreign, nothing like the ones he was used to. The only right, predictable feelings she caused were jealousy and rage. Both aimed at Rocket. Just as she had given him life, something he supposed was happiness and other things like that; she had taken away his life. She'd taken everything from him in an instant by telling him that all she wanted was for him to leave her alone, and she'd taken all the more by doing all the good things she'd done. As if to mock him, the thing he hated the most was that he loved her. An unbiased Snow Kid and a suffering Shadow. What a strange pair. It would never have worked, he told himself. Never.

But she was killing him anyway. Slowly, softly, enjoying his pain as he usually enjoyed that of others. She was sadistic and cruel, a downright succubus from Hell. Well, he wanted her to be. He wanted to hate her. He so, so wanted to hate her. It would have been easy. It would have been fun. But now she'd crept in between the cracks of his life like weeds, but instead ready to bloom into a stunning flower. Those weeds tugged at his insides, releasing everything again all at once and ruining whatever dignity and stubborn pride he had left.

So he found himself stumbling. Over his own two treacherous feet, down that unknown alley once more in Genesis Stadium making the same guttural sounds that those who fell down in the streets (drunk in broad daylight) often did. His hands crawled up the walls, like scattered uneven bugs, reaching out and trying to grip something to hold himself up that wasn't there. She wasn't there to carry him. She wasn't going to lay him on her lap again, make sure that he was safe. Not this time. No, she wasn't even going to come near him. She hated him, just like he wanted to hate her but couldn't. Strange how things like that happened, really. She probably wanted to be his friend, she wouldn't want enemies. She wasn't that sort of person. They probably wanted the opposite. The opposite would have been easier.

"You're like a tin can, falling apart. Corroding with the smog." Tia. She was here again. But would she save him again? Just like the first time, he looked at her through half-opened eyes. But he smiled. He smiled at her, because she was right, because she knew, because he was dying and he rarely had ever grinned truly and he needed to share something with someone for once in his life without feeling like he'd lost something. Then he laughed.

"Everything you've ever told me is the truth." Bitter words, but they were true. His laugh cut short, because he was being deprived of the vital oxygen he needed. Because it was a waste to let himself give his breath away like that. Plus, she was laughing enough for the both of them. Laughing like it was the happiest day of her life. Laughing like he was an idiot. He probably was, actually loving someone like her. They weren't so unalike, though. Neither of their family situations were ideal, to say the least. She just knew how to hide things better. She knew how to hide things a little too well.

"Oh, you're wrong. The opposite. I'm a liar at best." She whispered in his ear. The camera must have been in her hand, because he heard metal clang on some alien material as she placed it on the floor. His obsidian eyes searched for the source of sound, but met only with usually calm blue. But not then. They were fiery, his eyes, freezing flames, liars eyes. His eyes. She was a liar, just as she said. They were both liars. But he couldn't believe that.

"That's the first lie. You told me to get away, you told me that was all you wanted. You knew that it would only be repayment, yet you came to visit and asked anyway. Why bother?" He muttered. Small fingers slid unto his almost unnoticeably, then tangled with them. Smooth hand met calloused one, and he knew then that apart from playing football she had never worked a day in her life. She got all she wanted if she asked, and if she didn't then she'd manipulate and lie to hide the things she needed to. Just like Rocket's illegal use of flux that had landed him an opportunity to play Netherball. How amusing.

"You don't want to hear the truth." She said quietly, blue eyes suddenly looking away from his. He pushed his lips open forcibly, needing to speak. This conversation, this trivial, silly, conversation could answer mysteries and take his life but it didn't matter. He needed to know. He needed to know why he didn't want to hear it, why he wasn't pushing her away after she shattered and tore and broke him so easily. He just needed it.

"Try me." He stated, his voice a barely recognisable rasp. Her hand slid out of his almost instantly, and his head snapped to the side quickly to find out why. She was looking directly at him again, piercing into him with her knowing look. She inched forward, whispering the words on his lips so softly, so delicately that he thought they would shatter the air.

"You need me." She said, pressing her lips on his. Demanding fire flared up inside him, demanding action. A waste of oxygen, a waste of his air. The tin body he had was wasting away, and she was taking him, destroying him with her kiss. But he didn't care. Tin was never built to last long without something it needed, even if too much of it completely destroyed the metal without much effort. She'd had him not quite at hello, but you need air was good enough. Because she was right, so disgustingly right and she was giving him air right then with her desperate last minute words and actions. With that, it was almost instantaneous.

The tin fell apart.

Strange pairing, strange love.

Reviews are loved. :)