No Morning
by Ashura
For D and Lorena—happy
birthday!
disclaimer: the only g-boys I own are the action figures
and a bunch of doujinshi. The song "The
Story in Your Eyes" is by the Moody Blues (the first rock band I ever liked).
warnings: yaoi (3x4), citrus-ish but barely, sap, minor angst
****
Long seconds stretch into
even longer minutes, an eternity of cooling heartbeats and sweaty skin, and
fingers clenched tight around one another's hands.
"I'm afraid I'm going to
wake up," Quatre confesses softly. "Did
you know that dreams only last about ten minutes? Even though you can speed through years when you're inside them?"
"You're not dreaming,
Quatre," I whisper, tightening my hold on him.
My fear is not the same as his, but I too would stave off morning as
long as I could—whatever morning is, in space.
Peacemillion makes no revolutions of its own around the sun, it
is always dark, and time is measured only in scientific increments. It is only a sort of conditioning, innate
perhaps to the human mind, that makes us believe that if we are in bed, dozing
toward sleep, then it must be night.
Perhaps Jung was right, and that there is some human consciousness that
infuses us even when we fight against it.
And perhaps I have a
tendency to think too hard, when I should simply be enjoying having him in my
arms.
//I've been thinking about our fortune
And I've decided that we're really not to blame
For the love that's deep inside us now
Is still the same.//
But Quatre, it seems, is not
content to lie still either. He shifts
against me, turning to face me, lifting worried blue eyes toward my face. It still worries him—this guilt he
carries. Maybe I would not love him so
much if it did not, but still I try to ease it.
"I'm sorry," he tells me
again. How many times has he whispered
it? I have lost count. I think I heard the echo of his voice while
I floated into space alone, and it has haunted me ever since.
"It doesn't matter." This at least is true. I loved him from the moment I met him, and I
love him still, nothing will ever alter that.
The depth of this emotion frightened me at first—that I, who prided
myself on my stoicism and independence, could within the space of mere moments
surrender my entire soul to this idealistic boy.
"But it does." It matters to him. Then it must matter to me, as well.
"You worry too much," I tell
him. "I love you. Live with it."
His eyes widen in surprise,
and he smiles.
//And the sound we make
together
Is the Music to the story in your eyes
It's been shining down upon me
Now I realize//
It takes a good deal more
reassuring, though, with Quatre. He
wants more than anything to be the Saviour—mine, the world's, his
family's. He holds himself to a higher
standard than the rest of us mere mortals, which in anyone else would be gross
egotism, but in him I think it's
pitiable. He still sees me as his
failure: he wanted to save me, but he lost
control somewhere along the line. I
know he will never understand that I had the opportunity, when I faced him and
the Wing Zero, to get out of the way.
That I loved him even then, and that I made my choice with that in mind.
I was trying to save him,
too.
And neither of us can be
blamed if we do something stupid, or if we lose sight of ourselves in this
chaos that has become our lives. Quatre
(/my/ Quatre, my mind inserts)...you're just as human as the rest of us. We don't expect nearly so much of you as you
demand of yourself.
But I can't tell him this,
without making him uncomfortable, so I do my best to show him instead--//I
love you,// my body tells his, //no matter what.//
//Listen to tide slowly turning
Wash all our heartaches away
We're part of the fire that is burning
And from the ashes we can build another day.//
"What do you think will
happen when it's over?" I know what it
costs him to ask this, to acknowledge, the way the rest of us never do, that
there might BE a future in which we all get out alive, to admit his remaining
naive hope that we will still win.
I admire that in him,
too.
"I don't know." His face falls and my stomach clenches, but
I have no other answer to give him.
Until a few short hours ago, I didn't know who I was, or who he was, let
alone allow myself hope for the days to come.
I wonder if the others think
it odd, or if they even noticed. My
memories returned, and the first thing I did upon landing was find Quatre. He knew the moment he saw my face, and I
watched an ill-concealed terror flicker across his own. He was afraid I would not forgive him. I couldn't bear to see that pain, so I
kissed him. I don't think either of us
thought much about what we were doing after that, not until we collapsed
exhausted and entwined into the rough woolen blankets of his narrow berth.
My life is spinning too fast
for me to plan ahead. All I know is
that once the war is over, whether we win or lose, I will never leave Quatre's
side again.
//I am frightened for you children
For the life that we are living is in vain
And the sunshine we've been waiting for
Will turn to rain//
"You're right," he says
softly, his voice trembling, catching in his throat. "After all, it might not /be/ over. Or we might not be there to see it. If it comes down to it, I know we'd all—"
"Ssh." I don't want to hear him say these
things. I'm only just now born again,
I'm not yet strong enough. "We'll
win. You believe that, I know you
do. Look at how we've all come out of
everything so far. Heero didn't
die. I didn't die. We're still here, and we're still fighting."
I have never tried to reassure
anyone before, at least not like this.
I may have had only myself to depend on my entire life, but at least I
had no-one else to depend on me. But he
is the strength for all of us.
He reaches up to brush his
fingers across my cheek, my lips, my eyelids.
"Yes," he breathes at last. "We
are."
//Listen to the tide
slowly turning
Wash all our heartaches away
We're part of the fire that is burning
And from the ashes we can build another day//
And because it is still
dark, we can take refuge in each other for a little longer. Our bodies are not so exhausted as we first
thought, each invigourated by the other's presence, desperate to make up for
time lost and perhaps, though we both know better than to speak the words
aloud, to prepare in case the chance should never come again. I drown in his kisses and bury him in mine,
commit him to memory in every pore of my body.
He is part of me now—we have become each other, and in that at least we
will both remain immortal. In the heat
of his passion I find words again, I promise him all the forevers I may
possess, and every breath that ever leaves my lips. He accepts it all, and I fill him, gift to him what small
strength I have to heighten his own.
And my name burns radiant on his lips, his faith echoes through the dim
corner of our room and engraves itself on my heart.
And finally we collapse
again—sated, sleepy, curled together, our limbs tangled and our bodies sore,
our skin marred with bruises and scratches of our frenzied joining, but still
we refuse to let go. Dreams may last
only a little while, but there is never a morning in space.
//When the fighting life is over
And it's certain that the curtain's gonna fall
I can hide beside your sweet, sweet love
Forever more//
~Owari~
