I know I promised that it would be out on Friday or Saturday, but obviously it was late because of the following reasons: whereas last chapter made me laugh at the end, this one made me cry. This suuucks. Then came the writers' block. That sucks tooooo! On top of that, it's short again. Jeez. Please, ignore me while I whine.

In other news, I'm going to be posting stuff on my new LiveJournal account too! Yay! I just need to figure out how to work it now...

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Inheritance: Part Twelve

The warmth was the first thing that Zechs realized he felt. Warm, and safe as well. It was that feeling that had kept him from noticing the situation, that feeling that had allowed him to sleep next to another person to begin with. He hadn't been able to sleep next to anyone since he was a child, so the feeling was foreign, yet all-too-familiar.

Zechs' eyes still felt gritty, but his vision snapped into focus abruptly when he turned to look and see if he was right.

Treize looked gorgeous when he slept. His strong features relaxed, he looked breathtaking and even more handsome. His brow was smooth and relaxed, no tension showing tightly coiled behind his dark blue eyes, his lips parted. He held Zechs to him possessively, his arms surrounding him and his fingers entangled in long, blonde hair. He had his lips pressed against Zechs' temple vaguely.

'God.'

Zechs' stomach melted, heat swirling around his midsection.

'Is this a dream?'

It felt... so amazing; Treize's skin against his, the warmth of the blankets hiding them from the cruel morning air. How had this happened? Zechs' memories were vague, like the memories just before you go to sleep. They were muddled and cloudy, hanging around Zechs' head like a thick fog but impossible to see anything else while within it.

They had been having wine and playing chess. Treize had studied the board with cool eyes, his lips looking soft and wet from the sip he had taken from his glass. Zechs had been forced to keep his eyes on the board or no where else. Every time he looked anywhere else, Treize was taking a sip of wine, looking at Zechs with affection, touching a chess piece with fingers that held it so particularly, or just breathing, his chest rising and falling evenly.

But how had they...?

It was a gentle, fleeting touch of lips that he remembered, but he couldn't remember why it had happened. His hand had cradled Treize's cheek, his mouth easing over Treize's softly, lips clasping and embracing so briefly it could almost had been imagined. He could remember a strange feeling of fear, as if the man next to him was going to crumble and disappear at any second.

He could remember Treize staring at him, his eyes dark with one of Zechs' hands still on his cheek. His whispered word had hung in the air after he had pulled Zechs down on top of him, touching him carefully. The pads of Treize's fingers had skimmed over his body, eyes awestruck.

"Milliardo..."

It had been perfect.

He froze. Torn between the wonderfully open door and a lock of dark ginger hair that fell into Treize's eyes, he looked back and forth for a moment before closing his own eyes. He tried to even his breathing, counting to seven between each breath in and out.

"Milliardo?"

Zechs opened his eyes to see Treize's awake and confused gaze meet his. "Damn it," he cursed softly, putting his head back down on Treize's shoulder. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."

He felt a soft pressure on the back of his head, a hand stroking down his long hair and down his back. "I must be dreaming," Treize concluded, sounding strangely content.

"That's... what I was hoping." They lay for a moment wrapped around each other before Zechs extricated himself from Treize's hold. He wrestled on his clothing wordlessly and headed to the door, turning to look over his shoulder at the man sprawled on the bed with a flummoxed look on his face.

"I'm leaving. Don't follow me."

The door slammed.

--

"Hey, Zechs. It's Noin. Where the hell are you? Don't you remember me? Your nearest and dearest friend? Anyway, there was some kind of screw up with the automated atmosphere system on Mars and they need me to fix it, of course. I'll see you soon, hopefully, if I can fix this before my vacation's up. Some vacation, huh? Don't forget to call!"

The machine beeped loudly, and then beeped again when Persephone sat on it. She stared at him balefully, her gaze accusing and solemn. He glared at her and ran a hand through his hair raggedly. Everything was still spinning like he was on one of those ancient rides that they had at fairs and circuses, circling over and over again with music and the screams of children blaring in his ears.

His stomach twisted and he sat down on the floor inside the doorway, hard. "Damn it." Everything was turning over in his stomach, rising to sit uncomfortably in the back of his throat. Pressing cool hands on the suddenly clammy skin of his face, he stood and staggered over to the bathroom.

He turned on the shower full blast and jerked off his clothes, stepping under the burning hot water. It cascaded down his hair and turned his pale golden skin bright red. He pressed his forehead to the side of the shower, breath fogging the steam-covered wall. "Damn it," he whispered again, feeling tears prick his eyes. They mingled with the water seamlessly and it all went down the drain.

--

Zechs emailed the story to Lena without having Treize read the ending. He hadn't wanted an ending anyway. There was no point in having him read it when he hadn't wanted one to begin with. Lena called him, chirping joyously at him and telling him the date of the party that celebrated the authors and the good jobs they had done.

Persephone twitched her tail at Zechs and purred when he started to pet her.

He bent down so that his lips just touched the furred end of her small ears, breath ghosting against it as he said, "How could it be real?"

She just blinked at him, rubbing her head against his hand.

Every memory that still tormented him, every half-forgotten touch, every word, had been a lie.

"I'm going to need you to die, Zechs."

He had faked his own death for Romefeller's benefit but not stayed low like Treize wanted. He had dueled a Gundam pilot to try and find the meaning to everything bloody thing he had done in the name of the pacifist Sanq. He had tried to blow a hole in the Earth. He had killed and he had destroyed, and it was all real.

And Treize had kept to his own ideals and honor, betrayed Zechs, and died with Shenlong's weapon piercing Epyon's stomach.

It was all too real.

--

The rain was cold. It beat against the glass in the windows like knives, cutting through the air and flinging at the window in an attempt to break it. It slid down the cool windowpanes and pooled against the ledge outside the window before rolling over the edge and hitting the ground below.

Zechs had looked terrified when he fled from the apartment. He hadn't looked angry. He had been walking a horrible edge between panic and control, pale blue eyes wide and his breath coming out short because of an attempt to control it. He had looked like he was going to lose the contents of his stomach, not because of the wine, but because of his fear.

Treize could remember when Zechs' mask had shattered during battle and he had said, so calm even during the midst of battle, that he couldn't be Treize's friend any longer. There was no way that he could be, officially, but their connection had stayed there even when they had been barely able to see one another at times. Even at opposite sides, they had still been friends.

What did it mean for Zechs to run like that? What did it mean for him to look one step away from screaming and sobbing at the same time, held together only by pride?

Friendship. It had stayed with them even in the here and now, unacknowledged. Treize couldn't go after him; he had said not to. Treize would wait.

Friendship would tie them together. It had to.

Standing up from the comfortable armchair, he walked over to the glass to put a hand on it, leaving behind an imprint when he took it away.

They had a connection, the connection of two men who had loved, trusted, and fought together. They had been on the same side; they had been on different sides. They had entirely different ideals, yet they were the same at the core. It was the connection between them that allowed Treize to walk over to the computer to begin work again, to check and see if Zechs had sent him the ending.

Zechs hadn't. Lena had.

Thank you for your timely submission to All Hallow's Eve. Here is a copy of the finished copy of your work, as it will appear in the anthology. Please come to our party for the writers that we are holding on the date and time listed below.

All Hallow's Eve's Event Coordinator and Editor,

Lena.

Treize opened the document and began to read.

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Yay! Done. Just in case you didn't notice, there's probably only going to be a couple more chapters. Either one or two, so the end is definitely in sight. Thanks for all the reviews last chapter and please review again with any questions/comments/problems/corrections. And check my LiveJournal account in a couple of weeks after I figure out how to work it!