Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, Gravitation or Final Fantasy VII: AC, nor am I gaining profit from the story. I do not own Enrique Iglesias, nor do I own the rights to his song "Be With you." I do not gain profit from using his song in this story.

"Shuichi."
"Yes, Wufei?"
"What was the reason for Eiri's incensement against you on this occasion?" Pink bangs elevate and flop downward as he exhales. "He's just been working so hard on his book. I must have broken his concentration or something. He called me a damn brat, then kicked me out. I'm here now." Kadaj had been meaner. I choose not to disclose this fact to Shuichi. Instead, I listen as he wails his fear that Yuki will never let him home again. The sun dips below the horizon and the stars twinkle against the velvety blue sky. Shuichi continues to worry and I keep listening. The few minutes he began to complain have slipped into hours.

Moonlight pours inside of the apartment. I wonder if it turns my onyx-black ponytail silver like Kadaj's smooth, silky hair—I mustn't reflect on him or what we had. It is over and we cannot reclaim it. Not that he would want to. Not that I should. My leg is proof. "Wufei?" I jump, startled. Shuichi knows I stopped paying attention. He does not care that my attention span wavers when he speaks of Yuki. He says that ranting to a good friend, even if they are not listening, is better than bottling the stress and memories up inside him. I am the one who does that. No one asks for many details concerning myself and Kadaj. I do not mind. I do not want to disclose details of the events that took place before, during and after Kadaj did what he did.

"Wufei, I know no one asks you about, uh—" I do not wish to answer whatever questions he may have. "I perform the physical therapy to facilitate my walking," I interrupt before he asks the question. "I know." The pink-haired singer asks questions I never want anyone to ask. "But how did you break it? How long have you been in physical therapy? How long were you in the hospital? When did you break it? How bad was it?" Shuichi asks these things all at once. I am silent, weighing whether to delve into the memories.

(-Monday night I feel so low-)

Kadaj was angry. He had been ill recently and he had made it very clear that he did not want me around him. I fled. He found me three hours later in the street. "Wufei!" Kadaj grabbed my shoulder and whirled me around so we were face-to-face. I was silent, but my face revealed my shock at Kadaj's patrolling the streets to find his uke boyfriend. "Why do you stare so at me?" I was fool enough to ask, voice shaking. He, for a rare instance, was not glaring. "I feel bad now for telling you to go away." It was guilt in his eyes. This was completely unlike him! I wondered if my boyfriend of five months had gone crazy. Kadaj doesn't apologize.

I do not recall either of us saying anything after his apology. We were walking away soon enough. I often wondered how we must have looked. I am five-foot-two, with onyx-black hair in a man ponytail, agate eyes and a feminine walk. Kadaj is five-foot-eight and still growing, with long, loose silver hair, ice-blue eyes, and the walk of a man. Everyone thinks he'll be taller than Loz, his oldest brother. Yazoo is the older. Loz is six foot. Yazoo is five-foot-four. Kadaj insults him about hid height, but he never once insulted me for not being the average height for a male. "Wufei, you're the perfect cuddle height—don't ever change!" were his exact words. He hugged me to him, and I smiled fondly up at him. That was quite awhile ago. My apologies for avoiding the subject matter of my leg.

It was some day or another after he banished me. "My feet hurt," he explained over the phone. "Stay where you are," I commanded. "I'll go to where you are and—"
"Fuck you, Wufei, fuck you. Who's the one in charge?" he snarled. Don't look so shocked. He has said equal things to me before. For example, Kadaj has called me a little bitch, he—okay. My leg. Sorry. If your eyes widen any further they will pop out of your head.
I had said 'I love you'. He was still ill. Kadaj was several rooms away but as you know, this apartment is very quiet. He stormed back into the room, towards me, and I became afraid. The man has an intimidating frame, especially when his dark icy blue eyes are sparkling anger. My blood ran cold and I wanted to flee. "Wufei, you are delusional. You do not love me and I do not love you. This weekend has made it painfully clear that I cannot date you…"
"So this is the end?" I asked, voice and hands shaking.
"Severely."
And he stormed off.

Two days later he broke into my apartment, enraged that I had not called him and begged him to take me back. Yes, he said this. He then picked me up in his arms and threw into the wall. He had picked me up in his arms on numerous occasions before, when he was calm and happy, so it was not difficult for him. Nor was it difficult for him to heave me against the wall, which was ten feet away, with the force that he did. I turned my body away from the wall so as to avoid injury, but my left leg did not follow. It slammed into the wall. I remember very little after realizing I was going to slam into the wall.

Trowa explained—you remember Trowa. He is the brunette who fluffs his hair up and he performed in a circus for some years. He explained to me that he had stopped by my apartment to comfort me since he heard Kadaj and I were arguing. Trowa had walked in and he rushed for the phone immediately. My leg had broken in five places, and Kadaj had taken Souba to my leg. Souba is his double-bladed, single-handled sword. Bone protruded prominently from my flesh because my leg slammed into the wall. He explained this all to me while I was lying in that hospital bed. I remember little aside of what Trowa told me. Souba had done something to my leg to hurt my heel cord on my left side. I would be in physical therapy most likely for five to ten years, the doctors murmured over me. Trowa told me of how Kadaj had "cried for over an hour" in the apartment, slinking down with his back against the wall, not moving, just breathing and crying because "he fucked everything up."
I did not want to believe him. "Those are his exact words. He yelled out, 'Oh, god, Wufei, I fucked everything up!' I called Quatre and he stayed with Kadaj while I went with you to the ER." I believed him. It turned out to be true, too. That is the story of my leg. I am going to get you a glass of water. You are trembling and sheet-white. No, sit. I will get it myself. I only walk strangely now. The doctors said it was a miracle that the left spastic hemiplegia turned out so mild. Oh, Kadaj didn't want to kill me. If he had he would've done it.

Shuichi has finished his glass of water. I pour more water. "Quatre is Trowa's boyfriend," I add. "I remember," answers Shuichi after swallowing the last bit of water. He drinks five more glasses of ice-water before the color seeps back into his face. "Thanks."
"Of course," I reply. I don't smile.
It occurs to me that I have not smiled in nearly three months.

(-Count the hours, they go so slow-)

"Should I call Yuki?"
"It is three in the morning. I doubt he will appreciate such a call at this hour."
"…fine." Tears threaten to fall from the pop singer's eyes. "Tomorrow. We know Yuki would not do such a thing." And neither would Kadaj. I think to myself. Shuichi nods and stretches out on the dark purple couch after I rise. I walk the entire twenty feet to my bedroom. Yes, that was my attempt at humor. My leg feels better than it has in some time. You can walk flawlessly. Your gait is nearly a glide. So you will never understand when I complain of a tight heel cord. You will not care, either. My apartment is small, similar to the frame of my body. "Doesn't take up more space than it needs to," Heero once remarked, the idea of a smile on his face. He found it amusing that my living quarters were small but my Gundam, Nataku, was not. I am ashamed of the fact that you know where the apartment is. Even now, after all this time, you could still jump onto that motorcycle of yours and rumble over here to fulfill any dark desire of yours. You are twice my size and armed, could rape me and I would be able to do little about it.
I hate myself for admitting this, but I miss you. You grew to hate me. I smoked for awhile because you do, and I wanted to be reminded of your scent. Of you. You forgot me after you cried for that "over an hour." I know you did.
But I haven't forgotten you, Kadaj.
I never will.
I miss you so strongly that it hurts.

(-I know the sound of your voice can save my soul-)

I sit on my remember my bedroom. You remember the apartment. I know you do. "Big-windowed, thick-walled apartment," Quatre breathed. His remark brought the wisecrack of, "Big-eyed, big-dicked Chinese boy," from Duo, who then slapped my ass. Quatre turned bright red as the rest of the pilots laughed. Even Heero chuckled. Duo is my ex-boyfriend. I left him for you and he has been dating Heero ever since.
My apologies for becoming sidetracked. The windows in my apartment are wall-to-floor and take up half of whichever wall they are on. Big windows, especially for a one-bedroom, one-bathroom, one-study closet. Shuichi does not mind sleeping on the couch. He has been ever since Yuki expelled him. You would stay one night in my bed, then be gone in the morning. The windowsill feels coarse and cold.

(-City lights, streets of gold-)

The city lights are street and neon. I am engulfed in this big, grimy city.

(-Look out my window to the world below-)

There are the usual streetwalkers and street-rats out at this hour. Our hearts have been turned cold with loneliness even though the city's darkness attempts to embrace us. It has embraced them but not me.

(-Moves so fast and feels so cold-)

The pilots are my only family. Yes, I consider them family. I have friends and family. All are boys. I do not like Relena nor Dorothy, so they are not my friends. I have boys in my life, just boys. I had you. That was quite awhile ago. I am alone now. I have been so for exactly three months, and I—miss you.

(-And I'm all alone-)

Blood drips down onto my white pants, and some splashes onto my blue tank top. You will never take me back. We do not exist to each other. I will never see or hear from you again. It's four in the morning. I am bleeding to death.

(-Don't let me die-)

"Wufei." A strong, male voice. Pissed off, possibly scared. Shuichi's asleep. He wouldn't be able to handle all this blood. "Wufei?" Guilt and fear. Voice like that of a terrified little boy. Blood drips down the windowsill to the floor. Kadaj.

(-I'm losing my mind-)

He has forgotten me. I need to see a shrink.

(-Baby, just give me a sign-)

Why would he be here at four in the morning? Strong arms wrap around me and lift me out of the pool of my blood after the razor is taken. "Stay with me, Wu-Baby. It's gonna be okay. Stay with me." Wu-Baby. It IS Kadaj carrying me in his arms. Blood from my wrists gets all over the leather. He gave me the nickname during our last three days together as boyfriends, friends—together. I called him early in the morning. We were attending one of Shuichi's concerts. Bad Luck was on tour. Kadaj and I had different ways of getting to the concert, and I called him to let him know where I was. "I'm still getting dressed, Wu-Baby." Sleepy or angry? I couldn't tell. "Sorry."
"It's okay, Wu-Baby. I'll see you there."
"Bye."
"Bye-bye."
We hung up. "Wu-Baby?" I asked myself, baffled. I shrugged. It was his way of showing affection on the rare occasions he did. I called him 'sweetie' sometimes. He did not mind.

Emergency medical technicians speak loudly around me. Kadaj is crying. I have only seen him cry once before. Yazoo had told me about—something Kadaj went through as a child. I rushed to hold him as he cried, and I comforted him. This was quite awhile ago.

(-And now that you're gone I just wanna be with you-)
The doctors give me a psychological evaluation. Somehow, every answer I give has the phrase 'my ex-boyfriend Kadaj' in the answer.
"Are you on any medications?"
"No, but my ex-boyfriend Kadaj is."
"Do you have any documented mental illnesses?"
"No. My ex-boyfriend Kadaj does."
"Do you do things and then not remember them?"
"No, but I think my ex-boyfriend Kadaj does."
Eventually they ask about him.

(-And I can't go on-)

The phrase changes to "After my boyfriend of five months broke up with me…" Ten minutes into this new set of questions, one of the doctors asks, "Does he still love you?"
"Oh, Kadaj never loved me." Only then do I wonder where he is, and realize where I am.
"Why are you choosing to debate over my sanity? Do not question my mental state." They do not. They simply jabber amongst each other and make me an inpatient at a local mental hospital. It takes a toll on my physical health.

(-I can't sleep and I'm up all night-)
They give me a diary. I write. I cry. I stop eating. They give me another diary. I write. I cry. I eat again.

(-Through these tears I try to smile-)

I am in a lock-down facility and on suicide watch. I do not understand why. I am perfectly sane. I simply miss Kadaj. The diaries are taken and examined. I wrote down everything. It's not a side effect of the left spastic hemiplegia. I checked. I wrote down his hair color, allergies, eye color, age, height, weight, build, birth date, blood type, mental illnesses, medications, where he lives, where he works and his opinion on his mother. I wrote more than that. I know everything about him. He told me almost nothing of himself. I discovered what I know by certain methods.
What I am doing is not stalking. I never stalked Kadaj. The proper term is "obsessive observation." Stalking would be if he knew and was uncomfortable. He has no idea that I know the brand of sheets he sleeps on, the color of his toothbrush, and I know where he shops for everything…and that he is still single.
He has not come here to see me. He will not. Kadaj has forgotten me but he is still single. He has slept with no one since those nights with me.

I remember everything about those nights. The scent of his flesh, the feel of his hands on my body, the sounds we made and how he looked. And I realize that if he would hold me or kiss me one more time, I would not want to kill myself.

(-I know that the touch of your hand can save my life-)

He worked the hair tie free from my hair and placed the black band on top of my dark blue tank top and cream-colored pants. My hair, shoulder-length at that time, spilled around me. I squirmed and the curtain of my hair rippled. I was unused to wearing it loose, but if it was what Kadaj wanted it's what he got. He, of course, was still fully clad in black leather from head to toe. It was different every night, what we did. I liked the fact that I never could predict what would go on. Kadaj simply hated to have sex the same way twice.

"Master Kadaj, do I have your permission to remove your jacket?"
He smiled that smile, the smile of 'you are my concubine' and told me yes. It was only his black leather jacket he would allow me to unzip and remove. On rare occasions, when I begged hard enough and in a certain tone of voice, Kadaj would allow me to slide his clingy, black cotton undershirt from his torso and slip over his lean shoulders. Those occasions were few and far between.

He slid on top of me. The sensation of his bare flesh against mine was indescribable. He ran his hands up and down my arms slowly, causing my flesh to tingle. He touched me everywhere else as well, but he took his time stroking my loose, shoulder-length black hair and my face. When he was touching my face and my hair, he made sure we were face-to-face. His heart beat against mine. Kadaj's heart beat faster and harder than I anticipated. He calmed my surprise with a kiss.

I loved his kisses. They were the only 'always the same' thing about him. His tongue slid into the corner of my mouth, exploring it. Kadaj ran his tongue over my teeth, my gums, and my tongue, everywhere. He invited me to respond and I did. We engaged in heavy tonsil hockey and I put my hand on the back of his neck. When Kadaj tried to pull away and break the kiss so he could breathe, I pushed his head forward and forced him to keep kissing me. He moved so I was on top of him. I panicked momentarily and stopped kissing him, my eyes widening in fear. "Calm down, Wufei…" he whispered, breath hot and moist against my ear. His hand stroked my hair and neck slowly.

Something told me that I would never be given this opportunity again, so I gave Kadaj the best night of his life. He verified that it was such a night after he finished showering the next morning. His body verified the statement as well. He waddled for two days and refused to sit down because it would hurt, he whined. He then demanded that I stop smirking or I would be punished. When I eagerly asked him how, he snapped at me that he wouldn't sleep with me for two weeks. Such a thing wiped the smirk clean off my face. Kadaj soon warmed back up to me and did not ask me to be dom again for awhile. This was good, especially since I had not been a good dom. We resumed our normal activites, but there were occasions when he would bite me bloody until I climbed on top of him. The night before he broke up with me was one of those times.

(-Don't let me down, come to me now-)

The bites are slowly healing. It hurts to feel them heal, but they need to. They are physical signs that I never meant anything to Kadaj. I was his concubine and nothing more. He sleeps at night on silky white sheets that he bought after the breakup. No one sleeps beside him. His brothers, Loz and Yazoo, gave up on him long ago. I was the only thing he still had left. Now he has no one. I am completely obsessed with the memory I have of this man. It leads to my obsessive observation of him, particularly my mission, which I have not yet fulfilled, to watch him sleep…

(-I got to be with you somehow-)

People look peaceful while sleeping. I used to watch Duo before dating Kadaj. Duo sleeps curled up against Heero. Used to be me. I do not miss him. We are still friends, and Heero is better for Duo. I miss Kadaj.

(-And now that you're gone I just wanna be with you, and I can't go on-)

When people sleep, their faces say things. What will Kadaj's face say?

(-I wanna be with you…wanna be with you-)

Will it always be the cold mask it is?

(-And now that you're gone-)

He once casually remarked "my better self, that's Wufei," but isn't that the standard term to use for a lover?

(-Who am I without you now-)

Did he ever love me? I ask myself silently. The bandages around my wrists make my skin crawl. I long to rip my flesh open again since I have no tears left. I shed them over him.

(-I can't go on, I just wanna be with you-)

I am released from the ward.

(-Don't let me down, come to me now-)

Then the hospital.
You want nothing to do with me.

(-I got to be with you somehow-)

I know where you live and the keypad combination to get to the apartment. I pick the first and second key-locks after. Your room hasn't changed since the first time you set it up. I've never been in here, but I've memorized this apartment. You tried to get away. Too bad. I'm here. Silk sheets, black pillowcase on a feather pillow, black comforter-quilt, soft mattress…I have stared at this bedroom for so long. Now I am in here.

You are sleeping.

(-And now that you're gone I just wanna be with you, and I can't go on-)

Your body lies curled around an imaginary boyfriend. A lock of hair dances with your gentle breath. I smooth it back and after shedding most of my clothes, slip into bed beside you. When you sleep, you smile. You wrap your arms around me and tuck your chin into my shoulder.
"I missed you, Wu-Baby."
"Tell me you love me, fuckass."

(-I wanna be with you…wanna be with you-)

"I love you always and forever, Wu-Baby."
"I love you, too, Kadaj," I lie.
I hate you.