I'll Always Come For You

Prologue: "My name is..."

A/N: This is something I've wanted to write for a really long time, and I'm hoping to turn it into a really long fic. But only if you guys like it, so please review ^^! Oh, and I didn't discontinue Angel Without Wings, I'm just not sure what direction I want it to take right now, so in the meantime please enjoy this ^^ !

Spoiler warning: End game all the way.

Luke: ... Is it that time again already?
B: Yup! Disclaimer, please!
Luke: Why always me?!
B: Because you argue less! ... And I don't like to think of what Asch might do to me if I ask ^^;
Asch: Damn straight.
B: Outnumbered! Now, if you please?
Luke: (grumble) ... xxBellatrix doesn't own Tales of the Abyss or its characters.

"... Dreck.

I think I'm dying.

Shut up! ... Let me say what I have to, while I still can.

It's all up to you now. I did the best I could, and I'm leaving you my legacy. When you think that it's too hard, and things are too much for you, and if it's not enough to suck it up and do it for the sake of the world... then do it for me.

I believe in you... Luke..."

The redhead woke up with a start, and immediately opened his eyes. What the hell..? He took in his surroundings, and was even more confused. To his right, straw hay bails piled as high as the eye could see, to his left, a small table with a steaming kettle and a rocking chair. And directly in front of him... an old woman!?

"Ah Red, you're awake," she said with a kind smile, and began pouring steaming cups of whatever was in the kettle. "I made you more of my special tea, drink up, and someday you'll be big and strong."

The long-haired man sat numbly in the bed, staring at the cup in the old woman's hand. He couldn't bring himself to make head or tails of this situation. Hoping to find answers somewhere, he stared into the offered cup, and saw his green eyes reflected back at him from the bubbling, light pink water. "What... the hell is this supposed to be?"

The cup clattered to the floor, and the old woman clutched her heart with both hands. "You're aware! Thank the spirits, you're finally aware!" expelling a deep breath she probably hadn't known she'd been holding, the woman went to sit in a rocking chair in the corner, her eyes never leaving the man in the bed.

The green eyed man had to close his eyes, or he was afraid he'd begin seeing spots. What the hell is going on here... At last, for lack of information he tried to list everything he knew. I woke up in a strange place... But I don't remember ever going to sleep. Then she tried to feed me some strange pink liquid... She said she'd given it to me before. Has she been poisoning me...? He tentatively lifted up the sheets he was under as if to check for damage, and saw that he was wearing long, white silk robes. Well, except for looking like a martyr I think I'm all right... But I need more information. He opened his eyes, and his gaze fell on the woman avidly watching him. And she's the only one with answers. He asked the first question that came to his mind. "Why did you call me Red?"

The old woman chuckled from her place in the far corner. "Because of your hair."

The red-haired man sat patiently, as if waiting for more. She chuckled again. "I'm sorry if you were expecting a more sinister explanation, but that's really all there was to the nickname. Well that, and I had to name you something."

He immediately bristled at being referred to like someone's possession. "I have a name," he spat. "It's..."

This can't be. His eyes widened at the realization that he didn't remember. All of his memories played out before his mind like a video camera. He couldn't pick out which one of the figures he was... The blond man dressed in earthy colors... the powerfully built black-bearded man in black armor... or even the short green-haired boy wearing a mask. It all began to meld into one, and the man began to have trouble picking out his own consciousness from the mess.

Catching sight of the old woman watching him with an amused expression infuriated him. She thinks she did this to me... Made me forget who I am. I'm better than this.. I can remember. He closed his eyes again with renewed concentration. And tried desperately to cling onto his consciousness, to be able to string together coherent thoughts. This time went better. I can't be the blond... hethought, feeling his own long red hair slip between his fingers. And I'm too slender to be the armored man. I'm taller than the masked boy... Then who am I?

As if in answer to his question, a new figure walked out onto the scene playing before his closed eyes. A man with sparkling green eyes and long hair, dressed in white, laughing soundlessly with carefree abandon. Then, just as the man had begun to reach a conclusion, a second figure appeared, as different as he was similar to the previous man. They had the same long, red hair, the same stunning green eyes, but as carefree and light as the other was, this one was shrouded in shadow. His eyes weren't soft, they were hard and constantly wary, and hand ready, on the hilt of his sword.

The redhead on the bed opened his eyes. He touched his hair, it was as long and red as the boys in his memories. He spread apart his sheets and once again looked at his clothing. White, like the first boy. He turned and looked at the puddle of pink water on the floor, and saw that his green eyes were narrowed in suspicion. But that doesn't mean anything. The man thought, covering his face with his hands. I'm suspicious because I don't know anything... I could be either of them.

He tried to pick through the memories again. What can I do to remember...?

***

"What can I do to remember?" a young boy with shoulder-length red hair asked, sprawled on the ground of a magnificent courtyard.

"I'm sorry," a tall man with kind blue eyes and long brown hair knelt down beside the boy. "I pushed you too hard. You were knocked out by one of my more powerful blows. I thought you were ready."

"What can I do to remember?" the boy on the ground repeated more insistently.

"Do you remember your name?" the man asked with concerned eyes.

"Of course I do! It's..." the boy's brilliant green eyes fell in sadness. "No, I don't."

"What you must do," the blue-eyed man rose from the ground, his robes of white and grey falling around him. "is remember. Remember the very last thing you can. That is the first step."

***

That doesn't help me. The red-haired man let out a frustrated sigh. Both of those green-eyed boys were trained by that man, at around that same age. He closed his eyes again. Still, it can't hurt to try.

Abruptly, words rang through his mind, echoing to him from his memories.

"I need you," the voice said. "This can't be. We'll do it together, like we always have. There has got to be a better way."

The man in the bed could sense tears in the voice that spoke.

"You can't leave me." he said, more insistently. "You are the reason for my existence, without you what do I have to live for? You gave me everything. There has to be something I can do for you. Anything. Anything..."

The red-haired man could vaguely tell through the memory that the man who was speaking was holding something heavy, and his tears were falling on it.

"I will never forget you. I'll live for both of us. You'll live in my heart, forever."

This can't be. The man in robes of silver gripped his head, it hurt so much. It doesn't make sense...

"I will never forget you."

The man in the bed slowly rose, his head strangely calm and clear.

The woman smiled expectantly at him. "Well?"

"My name," the crimson-haired man half-turned to glare at her. "is Asch."