A/N: This is the first part of a 2-chapter fic I had wanted to write ever since I finished watching the ToA anime a week or so ago. I love LukexTear to death and I've always wanted to write a story about them. Considering I have not played the game in years and I have a terrible memory, this story will be based predominantly on the anime. This chapter is set between the end of Episode 16 and the first quarter of Episode 17. I suppose it can be considered an AU of some sort, though the second chapter will mostly reflect this.
The title of this chapter is from one of John Mayer's songs; perfect for the nature of Part 1, and I also wanted a song sung by a male singer but possibly showing the point of view of Tear, just to be a little different.
I've proof-read this but do let me know if you spot any mistakes.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing!
Part One: Luke - Edge of Desire
Tear is going to die.
The thought numbs him as he stands by the edge of a humming fon machine, watching the gears turning slowly and subconsciously tracing the wisp of smoke as it comes out from a tiny port on the side and rises to the darkening sky. His hands are resting on a metal bar, his eyes unfocused and glassy. He blinks.
Tear… is going to die.
Taking in a deep breath, Luke closes his eyes and runs a hand slowly in his crimson hair. There is a deep, sinking feeling in his heart—an uncomfortable ache, a twisting, invisible knife in his chest and lungs.
Tear is dying, and there is nothing he can do to save her. He hates the helplessness he feels, almost like that time with St. Binah, except that on this occasion, there is absolutely nothing he can do to stop this. The doctor had been unable to provide a complete cure—"She must rest well. If it were up to me, I'd forbid her from going to any more Passage Rings, but I understand the nature of your mission, and… well…" The doctor had looked at Jade then, who merely stared back grimly and offered no further suggestions.
Luke swallows hard. If even Jade has no other ideas, then Tear's fate has been set. Had the Score predicted this, too?
What can I do? The words bounce around in his head, reverberating off the walls of his mind and intensifying the jittery, nagging feeling creeping up his spine to the back of his neck. What can I do? Is there no hope at all?
Frustration he is familiar with, but despair is not an emotion he is used to having. Like a floodgate bursting open from a torrent of water, he is suddenly filled with fury and anger towards their situation. Why do they have to be the ones to carry out such a task? Why does he have to end up in something like this? Why can't Jade think of any other way to lower the Outer Lands? Why can't the doctor help Tear?
Why does Tear have to be the one to…
He lets out an explosive sigh, his body slumping against the railing, tired and worn out from all that has happened. The shadow of his former self had resurfaced a moment ago, and it does not help that his fatigue and anxiety are beginning to drive him to madness and a mindless game of blame-throwing.
He does not want Tear to die. If he could operate the Rings and accept the contaminated seventh fonons into himself in her stead, he would, and yet, a large part of him does not want to die either. Clenching his fists, he turns to look up at the sky, and, as if cursing the fonstones floating about up there, growls adamantly under his breath, "I don't want anyone to die."
Anyone… He repeats silently. Especially Tear.
"… M-Master?" A soft, timid voice calls out from behind. Luke spins around immediately and sees Mieu hovering towards him, the cheagle's large eyes uncertain and hesitant.
"What is it?" he asks wearily, wondering if Mieu has been watching him the entire time. He had left the cheagle with Ion about an hour ago at the medical facility, needing to be alone. The Fon Master had wanted to have a check-up himself and Anise, naturally, had also stayed behind.
"Are you okay, Master?"
"Fine," he lies.
Mieu's ears flutter and he drops to the ground, staring up at Luke. "I think Tear's awake," he reports dutifully.
Luke brightens up, straightening his posture. "Really? Has anyone been to see her?"
"Mieu… I don't know. I was waiting outside her room and I think I heard her moving around, so I came to find you, Master. Should I have told the doctor-person?"
"No, I'm sure one of the nurses would have checked on her," responds Luke as he kneels down by the blue and white cheagle.
Holding on to the Sorcerer's Ring, Mieu walks closer to the red-head and says quietly, "Master, don't you want to see her?"
Should I? Luke uneasily questions himself in his mind, his fingers absent-mindedly touching Mieu's small head. The cheagle leans into this rare, affectionate motion, almost as if a cat would if its fur was stroked. I don't know what to say to her…Will she even want to see anyone? Maybe she's still tired. She needs her rest for tomorrow…
… Tomorrow, when again, they will be forced to poison and slowly kill one of their own.
"Master, that hurts," Mieu's mewl brings him back to reality and he realises he has been holding on to the cheagle's head a little too tightly. Drawing his hand back, he quickly says, "Sorry." An apology still feels strange coming from his mouth.
"Are you going to see Tear?" Mieu asks again.
"… Do you think I should?" He feels stupid asking for advice from a beast but couldn't help saying the words anyway.
"Yup!" Mieu nods at once. "Tear promised she would watch you, Master. You should watch over her, too!"
The cheagle's simple, innocent words make Luke raise his eyebrows. If he had felt stupid before, he feels even stupider now as something clicks into place at the back of his mind.
Of course. Mieu is right. Luke remembers the time in Grand Chokmah when Tear had healed the cut on his cheek—the result of Guy's hidden rage under the influence of the Curse Slot—and drily scolded him about his unnecessary worries. At that time, he had thought that he wanted to be alone to think, but looking back, having her company had been somewhat reassuring and helpful, somehow.
She had kept her word and looked out for him. The least he can do is return the favour. He pictures her sitting in bed, thinking about her condition and future, and the very thought that she is alone unsettles him. Who else is she able to turn to, if not him? Master Van is out of the question, and so is the next person that comes to mind—her former instructor, Legretta.
Standing up, Luke turns to head to the medical facility. "Is Ion still getting checked up?"
"Mieu… No, he and Anise went back to the inn, but Anise said it was okay for me to stay outside Tear's room as long as I didn't let anyone else see me."
Luke doesn't know how anyone could possibly miss a bright blue cheagle roaming about the hallways of a hospital, but as the sacred beast starts to fly after him, he orders, "Go to the inn and keep Ion company, Mieu."
"… Can't I come, too, Master?" The hopeful tone in Mieu's pleading voice makes Luke pause and give him an unexpected, watery smile. "Just go and get some rest," the replica says, this time more firmly.
"Mieu…" The cheagle flutters his ears again in disappointment but obediently flies off towards the direction of the Belkend Inn.
o-o-o-o-o
A nurse walks down the hallway leading from Tear's room just as Luke arrives. She is holding on to a clipboard and he is inwardly relieved that she does not look at all concerned. Seeing him approaching, she addresses him politely, "I'm sorry, sir, but visiting hours ended at seven. Please—" She stops short, her eyes widening. "Oh, you're the young master of House Fabre, are you not? The one who came with the Princess today? My apologies, I have permission from the doctor to allow you in anytime."
"Is Tear okay?" Luke asks, looking at the clipboard.
"Miss Grants is fine at the moment. We have prescribed her some medicine to ease the pain and slow the spread of the contaminated fonons in her body. She's awake, so you may see her if you wish." She gestures towards the door and Luke nods. He walks up to it and places a hand on the handle, glancing at the nurse to see if she is leaving. He doesn't know how sound-proof the wards are and he is not comfortable knowing someone may be outside listening intently to their conversation
The room is dim and tranquil when he looks in, and for a moment, he wonders if Tear has gone back to sleep, but no, with the help of the streetlamps outside and the moonlight, he is able to see her silhouette on the bed. She is sitting on the edge, hands on her lap, staring out the nearby window, but she jerks and turns immediately when she hears him walk in. He isn't completely sure, but he thinks she is actually touching one of the knives she keeps by her thigh. Had she given the nurse the same treatment before?
"Luke…" she says, her stance clearly relaxing and the relief in her voice evident. Against the moonlight, with part of her face covered in the shadows, he cannot help but think how mysteriously beguiling she looks right then. He swallows a strange lump in his throat.
"You're awake," he says without thinking and inwardly kicks himself for such a stupid statement. The rest of his words come out in a rush, as if he wants to hide his embarrassment, "How are you feeling? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"
"I'm okay," Tear answers. She cocks her head to the side slightly and then hesitantly says, "I was fine before, but now I do feel like some milk…"
"… Milk?" Luke involuntarily makes a face. He hates milk but now that he thinks about it, she always seems to enjoy drinking it whenever they have a break during their travels. "Uh… I'm sure I can get some for you," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll just ask one of the—"
"No," she cuts in, shaking her head and picking up the glass of water by her bed. "That's alright. Don't worry about it." He watches silently as she takes a sip of her drink. She puts the glass back on the stand and shifts her attention to the window, effectively preventing him from seeing her countenance.
"Did the doctor tell you about me?" she inquires. He steps closer to her, stopping just by the foot of the bed, and responds softly, "Yeah." He doesn't know what else to say.
"It's strange that the miasma is flowing through the Passage Rings… I'm sorry for being a burden to you and the others, but I'll be strong enough to leave tomorrow. We must head to the other Rings as soon as possible before my broth—"
Maybe it is her tone—neutral, nonchalant and completely unconcerned about the gravity of the situation—that suddenly strikes a chord with Luke. Before he can stop himself, he is reaching for her shoulder and forcing her to look at him, his weariness and helplessness fuelling the vexation and disbelief growing in his heart. "Stop that!" he snaps angrily. "Don't try to act like everything's normal!"
Even in the dimness of the room, he sees from her face that she is surprised at his outburst. She glances at his hand—still on her bare shoulder—and then to his face, her expression unreadable, but she makes no move to shrug off his touch and instead asks, very quietly, "Are you worried about me?"
At her words, his fingers slowly slip away and he is left standing beside her, lost and forlorn, unable to match her level gaze with one of his own. "Of course I'm worried about you," he whispers in exasperation, with all honesty, tightening his fists and looking away, his jaw muscles tensing up. "Jade thinks you are the only one capable of operating the Passage Rings. He doesn't know why, but… I… I'm sorry, Tear…" His annoyance dissipates as quickly as it grew a moment before. "We have to continue lowering the Outer Lands. My uncle… and Emperor Peony… everyone else… they're depending on us. I… I know you're suffering, but…" Luke shuts his eyes. I wish there's something more I can do, he silently declares. But… I can't think of anything.
"It's okay," Tear murmurs, almost as if she has heard his thoughts. Almost as if she has accepted her fate.
"No, it's not!" he replies indignantly. "I really want to tell you to stop, Tear, but… there's no other way, and we don't have the luxury of time to think of other options, and—"
"Luke." The steady tone in her voice makes him stop and turn to her and he sees that she is watching him carefully, the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips. He can't remember the last time he saw her smile, but how is it that she can still smile in a time like this?
"What?" he mumbles.
"Thank you." Her words catch him off guard and he blinks at her, not understanding at all. She breaks eye contact and brushes away some of her bangs, tucking brown locks behind an ear and saying softly, "I never thought it'd come to this. That day, in my garden, I never thought you'd become the person you are now, but... I'm happy I decided to take the chance. I was right to believe in you. Thank you, Luke."
He doesn't understand why she is saying all this out of the blue, but his surprise and confusion are quickly replaced by an inexplicable agitation. How can she just sit there and speak so calmly when she is dying? "This isn't about me!" he flatly points out and he notices that her arms are stiffening, her body rigid although she is still looking away. "You're acting as if you don't even care about what's happening to you! At least tell me that you're sad or afraid or something! There's no shame in crying or—"
"I'm not going to cry," Tear unexpectedly cuts in almost fiercely. "Crying won't change anything."
"You don't always have to act tough! If you'd just… talk to me, Tear… I can… I can maybe…" He breaks off and has the sudden urge to kick out at the empty bed nearby to vent his frustration at both his and her inability to be eloquent for once. He can what? Offer her comforting words to ease her concern? Fill her head with empty promises he isn't sure he will be able to keep?
When he looks at her again, he sees that she is starting to tremble—shiver, to be precise, like she is cold or just too stubborn to show her true emotions. His gaze softens and, slightly ashamed at his sudden flare-up, he unconsciously reaches out to her, wanting to take her into his arms, to hold her and tell her that everything is going to be alright, the way his mother had done to him so many times when he had been a child.
"It's not an act," says Tear under her breath, her head lowered as if in defeat, and something about the way she speaks makes him think that even she herself does not believe her words. He catches sight of one of her hands clenching the bed sheet tightly, her other palm moving to rest against her chest. His eyes widen. Is she in pain?
"I'm a soldier," she continues quietly. "Death is… my death is not something I haven't thought about. When I came to the Outer Lands… to your manor to kill my brother, I was prepared for death, so I shouldn't be… I didn't think I would… and yet, now, I'm…" Her uncharacteristic incoherence puzzles him but he soon finds out why when she clutches the left side of her chest with a small gasp. The milky white sheet crumples underneath her other fingers as he darts forward to her and kneels down by her side.
"Tear!" he calls, alarmed, holding on to her arms worriedly. "Are you okay? Hang on, I'll call the—" He is already reaching for the button by the bed when her hand stops him.
"No, I'm fine. The medicine's working," she assures him haltingly, her breaths slowly returning to normal. Luke bites his lower lip, studying her without another word to see if she is still in any pain or discomfort. She stares back just as mutely. He does not realise that her gloved fingers remain on his, just by her lap, and that she does not draw them back as well. Perhaps she is unconscious of the fact.
The room is dim, but this close to her, even with the shadows and her hair partly covering her face, he can see the faint, greenish tinge in her sapphire eyes. There is something else in there, too—deep and well-hidden, squeezing through the cracks of her usual persona to resurface only because he knows her well enough by now. Slightly but surely, she still trembles.
Fear, he recognises.
"… I'm a soldier," Tear repeats to him and it is only now that her voice starts to waver. "I shouldn't be afraid of dying… but… Luke, I'm…" Scared, he can almost hear her admit in her head. He knows that she isn't someone who likes to show weakness and somehow, it hurts him, too, seeing her like this.
"No one wants to die," he asserts, his throat as parched as the sands of the Zao Desert. I don't want you to die.
Abruptly, she turns away and removes her hand from his, edging further from him. He stands up and takes a step back, suddenly well-aware of how close they had been. "I'm sorry," she whispers an apology, though he wonders why, and then he realises that this is the first time he is hearing a sense of vulnerability in her voice. She masks it well but he can tell. "Thank you for your concern, but I'd like to be alone now."
He sees it then, as clear as the fonstones in the sky—the small, tiny fracture on her shell—and knows that he cannot leave her like this, not when she is finally showing him a side of herself she has always keeps locked away from the rest of the world. He doesn't want to leave her like this—alone and in pain, suffering by herself, terrified of her impending death—and so he simply stands rooted to the floor and staunchly answers, "No. I'm not going anywhere."
"Luke, please..." The tone of Tear's voice is low but pleading, fragile. "Please go… I don't want anyone to see me like this..." He has never heard her sound so broken before, and it tugs at something foreign deep within him. It makes him want to curse their fates—Master Van, the Score, the planet's memory, everything that has led them here and will continue to lead them to a possible future without her. Her face is still turned away, but seeing her shaking form is enough to tell him how hard she is trying to keep herself from crumbling to pieces.
Soldiers should never fear death, yet Luke wonders how one is just able to let go of living without second thoughts and readily accept their demise. Living is the essence of being human, after all; there is absolutely no shame in that, and regardless of what he had thought of Tear before Akzeriuth's collapse, she is every bit as human as any other person he knows.
"Then I'll turn around," Luke says obstinately, walking over to the other empty bed and setting himself down with his back to her and crossing his arms. "I'm staying right here."
With you.
Her breathing is heavy but she is not sobbing or crying. If she is annoyed at his stubbornness, she doesn't show it. In the ensuing silence, however, he can't be sure, but he thinks he hears her murmur, very quietly under her breath, in that usual dry tone of hers, "… You're such an idiot…"
Unexpectedly, he finds the corner of his lips curving up a little.
o-o-o-o-o
Love is really nothing,
But a dream that keeps waking me,
For all of my trying, we still end up dying,
How can it be?
- 'Edge of Desire' by John Mayer-
A/N: Reviews are much appreciated!