A/N: Not edited. Set after Endless Waltz. I haven't seen it for a while, so my facts aren't checked. If it doesn't actually end with him getting shot, let's just pretend that LOL he MAGICALLY managed to get shot in another way. Let's be honest, is it really that shocking? PS Heero is slightly OOC. I've always felt that he was an incredibly emotional boy, and Relena is the only person with whom he feels like that's okay.

Title: Meant

Summary: He was kissing her like it made everything better.

Rating: K.

Soundtrack: None. Lolwhut?

He was bleeding, and she was silent, and he was kissing her like it made everything better. She had no doubt that it did, for him at least. So Relena allowed it, even though her eyes were open. His wounds were reopening. The bandaging was turning red.

She pulled away. "Heero."

The boy barely moved. His face was passive, but his eyes stormed about like they usually did. It made her sick to imagine holding so much inside her, to imagine hurting so much inside. "Relena."

"…Are you alright?" Tentatively, she reached up and pushed back his hair, holding it above his forehead. "You've been out for days."

"Marry me."

At first, the proposal didn't register. It took a split second for the words to sink in, and she sat straight. "What?"

Heero was leaning forward, giving her less and less space. "Marry me." He repeated, voice harsh and manner strained. "I love you. I'd die for you, a hundred deaths. I can't—can't keep my eyes from you. Marry me. Please."

When she'd imagined her husband-to-be asking for her hand, this was not the image. Hers had been a tall man on a boat, soft black hair just long enough to ripple as the sea winds curled around both their frames. He would pull her close and whisper the request in her ear. She could hear his smile.

And now there was this, this boy in the bed, bleeding from his chest. There was no confidence, no sweetness. The only emotion betrayed was the desperation of a child clinging to his mother. Heero's hands gripped the sides of her chair, his eyes bolted to hers.

Relena shook her head. "Don't say that."

"Marry me."

"Heero, we're too—"

"Do you think I haven't thought about this?" Now he whispered, of course. "I know it'll be hard, but people get married younger and younger now."

"You wouldn't be able to—"

"I'll be whatever you want me to be, I swear. I swear it, Relena, anything."



"You don't understand what this—"

"No!" His breath was shaking, and his voice was trembling, and she had never seen him in such a passion. "I do. I do. Now more than anything. Relena—" He moved closer to her yet, and his calloused hands cupped around her face. "—you are all I've felt for years. You know me, and you…understand me. I can't—no one—I can't give you to anyone else. You finish me."

This was how it was supposed to be, wasn't it? This was the way things worked. He deserved for them to work this way. He deserved her. Her pulse rattled in her chest. This was the dream.

She put her hands over his, gently pushing them away. "…no."

His eyes stilled. "W—Relena—"

"No."

"Relena, please, I—"

"Stop, Heero. Stop it now." She eased his hands back towards his body, and he barely resisted. "I can't marry you."

"I love you."

He sounded like a puppy. It was nearly enough to rip tears out of her eyes. She stood, brushing his hair back once more. "I know. But it's stupid. We're too young."

"We're not!"



"You are." She almost began an explanation, but stopped. "And I am. I will not marry you."

His fingers clamped around her wrist. It hurt, but she hadn't expected anything less. "Relena, please."

A silence fell over them as she watched his manic eyes. Slowly, she pried his hand away from hers. She had to leave. Any longer here and he would get angrier. She would get weaker. It would end poorly, whatever the end.

"No."

As she paced out of the room, Relena kept her eyes focused on that little window that they'd built in the door. As she passed the desk, she made sure that the nurse knew he'd reopened his wounds. As she watched the elevator door close, she heard their panicked voices, declaring that the patient was gone.