The night was theirs

The night was theirs. Nothing outside of their love existed aside from the infinite sea of stars, dancing in the light of euphoria reflected on their faces. The glorious moon lighted their way in the dark, peeking out every so often through the canopy of leaves. They were on their way. Nothing else mattered.

Grabbing her delicate hand in his, he guided her over deformed roots and tangled vines, careful not to rush her despite his excitement. Regardless of his elation, he knew in his heart they were not yet out of danger. They both knew this, and the penalty if they were found. His mouth tightened into a thin line. They would not be found.

At the sudden sound of her voice, hushed but smooth and sweet, the hairs on the back of his neck pricked, and a zealous wave of chills twisted a path down his spine.

"Where are we going? You can tell me now?"

In the dark, he smiled. He understood her enthusiasm. He wished to throw caution away and take her in his arms, spinning until dizziness took them both.  Instead, he slowed his step so that her next would bring her closer. He continued to direct their flight as he turned to look over his shoulder to answer her. It was difficult; she was distracting him with the way she was holding onto him, pressing her frail form against him for protection against the very sounds and shadows that he knew captivated her.

"We're still on the border of the Sanc Kingdom. Yours is the only land not involved in the war, thus this is the safest place for us to travel. We'll sleep here tonight and continue tomorrow. As for where we're going, I'll tell you that when we've come closer. It's safer for you if you don't know in case we're caught."

Her brow crunched in a soft confusion that showed no alarm. She had faith in him to make sure a successful escape.

"But you said we were safe?"

He hesitated a moment to navigate them over a perilous-looking rock face, and turned to capture her gaze quickly before voicing his thoughts.

"Safe from the Sanc Kingdom, yes, and protected within its borders. But there may be war deserters that have the same ideas we have."

She halted her movement, and he with her, immediately looking back to determine why she had stopped. She was silent a moment, and he explored the shift of emotions in her eyes; sad for an instant, sympathetic, and finally expectant and questioning.  Her eyes bore into his skull.

"You mean they are running away. Like us."

The wind captured the strands of her hair, almost as if caressing a dearly loved child. Her eyes drank him in, and he felt as a stone would, sinking in a pool of clear water. Water full of hope.

Dear Gods, how he loved her! How the very air around her rippled, envious of the melody she invoked within others, yet infected by her as it danced around her – pleading with her to go on with her song.

His breath caught in his chest, and he lowered his head, trying to work moisture to his parched throat.

"No. Not like us."

 It came out husky and strangled, so he swallowed a few times, opened his clenched lungs, and wetted his lips. He looked towards her waiting eyes through his mess of hair, and lost his nerve.  Head down, he pushed himself to answer her.

"Yes…. Running away."

And he knew she heard him, for when he raised his head, she was looking at him, smiling. He felt sunlight on his skin where her eyes touched him, and he smiled at her in return. Truly, he doubted the presence of war deserters here. If they were in the Sanc, they would likely choose fear of discovery over the desire to be aggressive. No need to worry her.

"Lets go. I'd like to catch a rabbit so that we may eat this night."

He held his hand out to her, and she took it. Again, they began a swift flight into the forests clothed in darkness.

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He encouraged her to walk ahead of him, knowing that his chosen place of rest was not far. He was inspecting their trail, not really seeing the path they left behind in the sparse light of the moon. No matter. They would be gone long before any other would have opportunity to see any such path. Satisfied, he looked to the sky and saw only the stars. Those brilliant globes of light had brought them together – a shooting star she had called him, and her Little Prince. They had also guided their escape through the land of the Sanc from whence she came. They were leaving it all behind – the war, their names and positions, and the world who would see their love as forbidden.  A pacifist and a soldier. He was overjoyed.

He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let himself become giddy with floral scents and fresh breezes that brought the smells of rainforest plants to him.  When his eyes opened, he let the air out of his lungs. He felt good. Secure. For the first time in his life, he could drop his guard and just feel. It was as if the trees were protecting them in a hug of leaves and ferns. And she was here. With him.

She turned sensing his glee, and laughed when she saw his face full of wonder, and his eyes glazed over with jubilation. Her own face was red with the heat of euphoria, and her eyes shone with the fever of freedom. She wanted every minute. Every second she was with him was a miracle. And they were finally together.  No longer would she be the puppet of some warmonger or other. She would live her own life, and she would live it with him.

As they broke through the trees into the clearing, it was obvious to her that he had been here before. She abruptly stopped and stood in place. Firewood had been piled close to a pit that was carefully lined with stones. A crude spit made from stripped and charred branches, tied together with slightly frayed rope, rested atop the pit. Her eyes filled with tears, and her hand came to her chest in an attempt to still the pounding of her heart.

"We are really here, aren't we?"

He smiled and put his hand to the small of her back, delighted that he had pleased her, and proud of his work. He gestured for her to take a seat on a nearby log.

"It's dark enough that the smoke from a small fire will not be seen. It won't take long to start it. Then, I'm going hunting."

He picked up a slingshot next to the newborn blaze, and looked over his shoulder to where she sat, barely able to contain her cheerfulness. Not wishing to disturb her revere, he grinned as he walked quietly into the forest. She was oblivious to his departure as she gazed to the sky, mesmerized. She had always loved the stars; she was sure that one existed for every wish she had made. Wishes that had begun to come true this night, and would continue to come true every remaining night of her life. A shooting star caught her attention, and she watched it as it fell, spellbound. Laughing out loud, she reached toward it, sure that she could capture some of it's magic.

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He came back to the clearing to the sound of her sweet laughter. For a moment, he just watched her, soaking up the sight of her. She seemed so happy, so free. His heart ached as he studied her, and he knew that running away was the right decision.

Stepping through the trees, he caught her attention with his footsteps. He brought forth a rabbit and set out to skin it. She watched him as he did so, casually fingering a locket around her neck, smiling at the secret thoughts dancing in her head. The fire flickered across her face, making it appear as though she where glowing ethereally. She watched as the flames cast shadows over his features, which stirred and created peculiar patterns. She could tell he was aware of her watching him, and in return, he was stealing glances at her every so often through the gaps of his unruly hair. She felt beautiful for it, sure as he felt loved for her attention on him.

He rose to his feet, and placed the spit over the fire. Immediately, delicious smells brought by the breeze assaulted her nose. She blinked in revelation. She had been so enchanted by him that she hadn't been aware of how hungry she was. He laughed at her surprise, and began to walk towards her, eyes full of mirth.

"It will be finished shortly. It's a small rabbit."

THUCK!

Pain shot through him and he found himself on his back, dazed and unable to see passed the white and red clouding his vision. His hearing was fuzzed, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Choking, he barely found the strength to breathe around the spasms in his chest. Something was holding him down, preventing him from taking in air. Consciousness began to fade as he was hauled to his feet, head lulling from side to side. He desperately tried to push the haziness of confusion aside.

Focus!

Vision brought no information. But through the static of his distant hearing, he was able to distinguish muffled sounds coming from a short expanse away. Icy awareness thundered through every corner of his brain, scorching all it touched. His head snapped up and his eyes were thrown open to wildly search through the fog. His body tensed, screaming for battle, and he raged against his captors.

"No. NO!"

 Panic filled his voice, already horse with blood and mucus. Thrashing against whatever held him, he broke one arm free. His balance off, his face landed in the hot coals, but he felt nothing but frozen fear.

"NO!"

"GAAH! Help me! Hold 'is other arm! He's a fuck'a'lot stronger 'n he looks!"

Hands from every direction where grabbing at him anywhere they could, hauling him once again to his feet. He was being forced to the brink of the flames, and tied to the stake. Blood and sweat flowed into his eyes, impairing his vision further, and he could feel cruel cord bite against the skin of his wrists. 

"That should hold th' son-a-bitch."

A filth crusted, greasy man missing his eyeteeth stepped into his vision. His hair was matted and infested with insects, and sores and boils covered his skin, obviously infected. He was wearing the remnants of an OZ uniform, badly repaired with other rags that must have been stolen. A burning log from the fire was picked up and the man cackled as he swung the wood into his stomach. The bonds holding him to the stake kept him upright, pulling his shoulders out of socket.  He felt something burst within him when he was hit, and pain washed over him as a tsunami would over a sea gull. Yet he refused to cry out. Instead, he choked, desperately trying to force air into his lungs. Slowly, he gained control of his rebelling body, and stood straight as the bonds allowed once more. And stared defiantly into the eyes of the animal in front of him.

Displeased yet unnerved, the deserter snorted.

 "That's for takin' one o' ours in th' fire. Punk!"

He didn't bother to look where the man indicated; he understood that in his struggle he had somehow managed to kill one of their numbers. He grinned. Offended, the coward before him spit on him.

 

"See if you cn' break copper wire, you lil' fuck! While you's doin' that, we'll have at it wi' your lil' miss. Looks like th' princess, she does. Wonder how'd you's got her."

His eyes widened as he resumed his futile struggles. All he could do was watch.

She had been stabbed, but she hadn't felt pain so much as surprise. She was watching her love as he approached her, adulation evident in his eyes – and then she was snatched from behind, or so she guessed. All she could see was a jagged and oozing wound; bone peaking from behind shredded and flapping skin, blackened and puss filled. The infection pooled at the tip of tattered tissue, and dropped on her flesh. She cried out. Not from fear of him, but from the suffocation of terror. If this was happening to her, what had happened to him? He would never allow this. Panic robbed her of breath, and horror froze her.

What have they done to him?! 

The monster licked the tears from her cheek, and thrust his fingers into her wound. Pain exploded from her side, and she coughed. As her blood splattered against her abductor's face, he became enraged. He took a rock from beside her head, and brought it down on her skull. She heard rather than felt a crunch, and swam in the horrified haziness of fading consciousness. She distantly felt her dress being hastily torn from her body, being replaced by the coldness of the earth below her and the diseased touch of the creature above her.

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He struggled. Against the bonds holding him steadfast while the flames licked his hands, against the feral terror that thrust his mind into coldness, against his own thrashing limbs. The fat from the rabbit on the spit had melted, and the drippings on his skin and clothes fueled the blaze. Sweltering twists of unbearable agony snapped the liquid cushions between every vertebra as his body convulsed, violently trying to free itself from burning alive. He heard more than felt chunks of muscle tear away from bone, and bone rip through flesh, and still he could not break free. His mind reached into itself, trying to call forth any strength that might remain, and the lack of power crushed the last parts of his soul that were human. He had no choice but to allow his body to sag, defeated.

I can't help her. I failed! I can't save her, dear God! Why can't I save her??

He raised his head, looked to where she lay, and his heart echoed the scream on his lips.

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She felt her body tear as it was impaled time and again, first in one opening, then in another. The skin of her back was grated against the harsh rock of the forest floor, and became shredded and bloodied. She felt her head snap back at an awkward angle when her hair was torn from her head. Her breath gurgled in the back of her throat, and bubbled forth in bloodied froth. Again and again her temples were struck with the cold metal barrel of a gun. Her vision in one eye exploded, and she could feel the liquid from that eye ooze over the flesh of her face. Through all this, she strained her hearing beyond the pumping breaths of her abductors; listened in case he might make a sound above the fire popping, but hoping she would not hear the flames drinking the life of her love. And then she heard him. His scream….

For the first time, she allowed a sob to escape her lips. Not for her own pain or suffering, but for his. With her last remaining strength, she not so much as turned her head, but let it fall to the side. And their eyes met. Hers, one bruised and swollen, and the other burst, and his broken and full of sweat, blisters, blood, and tears.

They smiled.

No more could he feel the bite of the flames as they slowly consumed him. No more could she hear the guttural and contaminated grunts of orgasm belch from the bellies of her rapists. They knew they were dying. And as long as they could do so cradling each other in their gazes, they were elated. 

And then, he fell. The heat had melted the copper holding him to the stake. Surprised, he struggled to get up using the charred stumps that used to be his hands before the blistering coals seared the flesh of his face further. Desperately blinking away tears, he widened his eyes and wildly sought to find her through the halo of fresh fire scars, and panicked when could not.

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The last man rose from her busted body, and kicked her. She rolled a few times before settling on her back a few feet from where he knelt. He heard her heavily thump and come to rest, and cried out. Able to see the faint shadows of a phantom image, he tried to go to her. Instead, he again fell in the coals, too weak to support his own weight.  Eyes blurred with semi-blindness and unshed tears, he sobbed. She was dying without him. He crawled to her cloudy form, and tried to smooth back the patches of hair that still clung to her scalp. He heard laughter, and tore his blistering and bleeding eyes from her face to glare dangerously in the direction from whence the sickly sound came. Not intimidated by the idle threat, the deserter tossed a threat of his own.

"You have until she dies to burry her. If you fail, you will be buried with her. Alive."

His eyes widened as fresh tears formed. He squinted down and was able to see that she had understood. Her lower lip trembled and new fear glazed over her one eye. She would force herself to live as long as she could so he could complete his task. She would rather him burry her alive so that he could be buried dead.  He would not let that happen. But he would not let them touch her, either. Not again. If they were to be buried, it would be his way.

He tried to pick her up without the use of his hands and dropped her. She convulsed as her head came into contact with the ground, and blood oozed from crusted gashes. Her eye clenched in an attempt to hold in her pain, but she did not allow a sound. The men around them laughed, and made bets with each other as to how long she would live. He glared in defiance towards the sources of laughter, and huddled over her as a protective wolf would its cub. As he turned his near-sightless eyes from the direction of the subjugators to squint at her, his chalk-white glare softened into a warm caress. Again he tried to lift her into his lap. He struggled with consciousness as it ebbed and flowed, but refused to drop her again. He held her close, rocking her back and forth, shushing her, kissing her softly where there was unmarked flesh, and humming to her. Sucking in breaths of air through his increasingly powerful sobs, he continued to hum, crushing her more and more tightly to his chest. Lulled by his love at first, her breathing came less labored until finally, she fought for breath no more. And still, he kept rocking.

A soldier, suspicious of her passing, stepped forward to make good their threat. He was held back by one of his comrades.

"Let's see what he does. He can't go anywhere."

The first smiled wickedly, and complied.

Able to see her no longer, he gazed at where her face would be, remembering how she last looked. He slowly rose to his feet, determined not to fail. Slowly, one step in front of the other, he made his way back into the embrace of the flames. He turned towards the gawking pigs and grinned cruelly. Holding her lifeless body tightly to him as he began to cook, he laughed.

"You took her body. You took her life. But you can never take her from me."

Tears flowed freely down his face, fire seared flesh from bone.  Still he remained standing, and seemed out of the reach of pain. He looked at where her broken features would be, cradled on his shoulder. The only hurt evident was reflected in his milk-white eyes; at the life he might have had with her. As he looked again towards the men standing in terrified awe, he was transformed. His eyes absorbed the inferno around him, reflecting a crazed fury.  His voice, harsh and gurgling from smoke and fire, roared from his throat, as thunder would crack against the sky. The flames around him bathed him in a preternatural glow, making him appear as though he were erupting from the blaze itself. His skin charred and melting from his bones, gave the illusion of a demon emerging from a cocoon.  He somehow found and looked into the eyes of every man and fixed them with his blazing, otherworldly gaze. He vowed the same phrase to each.

"I will kill you. I will destroy you for what you've done."

Every man ran from the scene they couldn't explain, fear pushing them faster and faster.

Satisfied, he let his body drop. With his last breath he whispered for her alone to hear.

"I love you."

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The last man broke free of the tangled veins. He wasn't sure how long he had run, days perhaps. His flight was made obvious from the numerous scratches and cuts that marred his flesh and clothes. His heart throbbed in his chest, and his lungs were tight from lack of oxygen. In exhaustion and relief, he threw himself to the ground, sobbing. Never in his life had he felt so terrified. The image of that boy in the flames would haunt him even after death. But for now, he was free. He was safe from that… supernatural thing. He wasn't sure if it could actually die, but he was sure whatever it was, he had left it in the forest.

He rose to his knees, trying to control the gasps and chokes. He had thought it a bad idea to target the young couple, but she had been so beautiful. And it had been so long.. He hadn't meant for either to die, it just happened. His frustration at running and hiding from both sides, not knowing if his side would be far worse if they caught him than the enemy – that was horrifying. He snapped! They all did. But now, now everything was different. He didn't want to see any of his former comrades again. He didn't want to be reminded of what they had seen; those raging eyes… eyes like fire that left a mark on a man's soul. He was sure he had it.

"Eyes be th' winda to a man's soul…and mine be marked fo' sure now."

He was sure he'd never look at his own reflection again for the rest of his life.

He just wanted to go somewhere where he could ride out the war. Forget everything he'd seen. He didn't think he could ever get that image out of his brain.

He brought himself to his feet, desperate to get still further away. Still bent in half, he placed his hands on his knees, still attempting to bring air to his burning lungs. He didn't know where any of the others where, they had all taken off running in whatever direction that had been away from… him. He was sure they would all make it, unfortunately. The Sanc Kingdom was safe. They just needed to stay hidden until the war blew over. That should be easy. This place is gigantic.

"You are under arrest."

His heart froze in his chest. He didn't have time to think, though, before a long sword slightly less frozen than the voice that had come before it burst through his chest cavity. Surprise erupted on his features. His mind swam as he tried to understand just what was extruding from his breastbone. He placed his hands on the bloodied wound, trying to determine whether or not what he saw was real. He looked up into the face of his murderer and a cold, metal mask over a cascade of white blond hair greeted him.

"For the murder of the Queen of the World."

At this, the masked man extracted the sword, causing a fresh wave of nausea and a new flow of blood to bubble forth. Still, understanding was out of his reach. The former Queen? Then she had been Peacecraft… Shock prevented him from collapsing. Instead, he looked into the chiseled gaze of the masked man - and saw the savage rage of the demon-boy of  flames looking back at him.

Primal fear he had known only once in his life tore its way through his petrified soul. A scream gurgled out of his chest wound before it could erupt from his lips. He could feel the cooling liquid of his blood mix with the warm liquid of urine as it ran down his leg.

"I will kill you. I will destroy you for what you've done."

His world became distorted and lopsided as his head flew through the air. He saw the polished boots of the masked man approach, and was lifted by the hair and secured to a belt. Before his vision faded, he saw the heads of four of his companions; features frozen in sheer terror, eyes empty save for fire scars. His last thought was spent wondering how long it would take for the remaining six to be hunted down, and how long they would last in a fiery Hell.

Author's Notes:

You may be wondering why the dreams of the world have died? Allow me to explain.

In the GW series, it is generally known (if not agreed upon) that Relena's purpose was to lead the people of the Earth and the colonies in peace after war. That was what Zechs charged her with during their last conversation aboard Lebra.

Heero obviously saved the world. His continuing mission was to prevent wars and aggressive factions seeking wars from occurring.

What would happen to the collective dream of peace if Heero and Relena had died?

In this timeline, Relena has just been crowned Queen of the World. She is at the budding stage of her popularity. Heero has just denied himself yet another opportunity to shoot her. He has also come into importance, as this is when he decides he has a purpose in fighting once again – protector of Earth and true peace. In my opinion, this is the pinnacle of each of their positions and influence in the war. If they left at this time, absolute turmoil would result.

Perhaps the Gundams would still gain success. Zechs would not fight for White Fang, he would seek revenge for his sister's death. He might kill Treize himself. The war would end there, yes? However, Marimaya may, at a later date, become the leader of White Fang. Together with her own Army – who would stop her? Relena wouldn't be there to cool her rage, and Heero wouln't be there to stop the madness. Lady Une may even be sucked in by Marimaya. Who the heck would end it?  Wufei is on their side which leaves Quatre, Trowa, and Duo. Zechs for all we know is still crazy in grief over his sister. Maybe the zero system gets to him and he decides to destroy everything.

Anyway – I'd say with Heero and Relena's death, the whole world can forget about dreaming.

Just an idea. Thanks for listening, and thanks for reading. J