What Might Have Been

Author: Madisonne

Part: 1/1

Disclaimer: For some reason, the people at Bandai keep on forgetting to return my calls... So, no, I don't own them yet. Operative word: YET! MWA HA HA HA HA!!! Ahem... Don't steal, or else I'll sic my demon-chibis on you. Stop laughing! They can strip a cow of its meat in one minute! Or is that piranhas? Hmmm... Lyrics used in here are from Jude's "I Know" which I don't own either. That's why it's Jude's "I Know" and not Madisonne's "I Know". ;-)

Warnings: Severe angst, suicide

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He stormed the room, an angry glare marring his usually calm demeanour, clutching a hand-written note in a white fist. "Where's Merquise?" He snapped at the sole night security guard.

The startled man quickly typed in a set of parameters and called up a set of pictures. "He's... Headed for the roof, sir."

"Shit!" He pivoted on his heels and sprinted out the door and down the hall.

Luckily, the hall was nearly empty due to the late hour, and the few people passing easily slid out of the general's way, shaking their heads at his back as he sped past.

Treize didn't notice the looks of disdain, and, frankly, didn't care to. His entire being, even the pulse pounding in his veins, was dedicated to one thing- reaching the top of the roof of the military compound in record time. He refused to let his mind dwell on the... The unspeakable happening.

When he reached the door that led to the roof, he swore at the realization that his key-card had been swiped. And, only one man would have the talent and sheer guts to snatch the card off of him.

Resigning himself to his fate- being a battering ram- he proceeded to throw himself repeatedly at the metal blockade.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" A voice from down the hall questioned angrily.

Treize stopped beating himself senseless long enough to recognize the janitor. "I need to get out there. Official emergency."

"And just who the hell do you think you are?"

"General Treize Khushrenada. Now, would you please unlock that door?!!"

"Oh, uh... Sorry, sir..." The man, realizing that he could be shot for his words to the gentlemen, scuttled over and unlocked the pesky, if slightly dented, door.

"Thank you." The general absent-mindedly threw over his shoulder, while crossing out into the below-freezing temperature of nature.

"You always were one for subtle entrances, weren't you, Treize?" A dry, slightly amused voice marked his defeat of the door.

He scanned the roof for the person for whom he had attempted to beat down a plate of metal. Finding him squatting a few feet from the edge, he walked quietly and slowly up to the man, careful not to startle him for fear of his jumping in reflex.

"Found your note, did you?"

"Hm, yes." He sat down beside the pensive figure.

"You weren't supposed to be out of that meeting until ten o'clock tonight."

"Well, thankfully, I have a very protective manservant. He felt that this might be classified an emergency." He displayed the crumpled note.

"And I suppose you thought you would talk me out of this?"

He shrugged. "I hoped I could convince you to hang in there. I still want a twenty-first birthday with you here."

"You just like me because I give good gifts."

"True, true..." He jokingly conceded. When the sombre man ignored his quip, he turned to him, unsure of what to say. "You've got such a pretty smile. It's a shame the things you hide behind it."

He froze for a moment, analysing and classifying the remark. "Is it really?"

"Yes, you do have a pretty smile, and yes it is a shame the things you hide behind it."

"Is it, is it truly?" He asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "People are generally much happier if they don't know about a person's troubles." He stood up and brushed himself off.

Treize moved to catch his arm, but stopped halfway there and let his hands drop, limp, into his lap. "Let them go, give it up for a while."

"Easy for you to say."

"Let them free, and we will both go find it." He spoke softly to his friend's back.

He bit his lip. "How far do you think it is from here?" His voice held a note of fascination that shook Treize.

He ignored the question and its macabre insinuations. "I know... There's nowhere you can hide it. I know the feeling of alone. I know that you do not feel invited, but come back, come back in from the cold."

He turned back to the general. "Do you, do you really? You seem to have all the company you want. I don't... Can't... Talk to people, like you can. I can't go back! I'm... Ashamed..."

"Step away, then, from the edge!" He warned, anxiety in his voice. "Your best friend in life is not your mirror!"

"As far as I can tell, that's what you want to be!" He fumed angrily.

"Back away, give it up for a while. I am here and I will be forever and ever." He soothed, trying to lure the younger man away from the ledge with kindness. "I know there's nowhere you can hide it. I know the feeling of... Alone."

"I have so much to say... Too much to do..."

"Trust me and don't keep that on the inside; soon you'll be locked out on your own."

He turned back on him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Taking a step back, he went out of Treize's comfort-zone.

Moving quickly, he grabbed the young man around the waist and pulled him back from the ledge. "You're not alone!" He insisted.

Twisting out of the general's grip, he backed off, this time away from the edge.

Treize advanced and caught the thin wrist of his friend. "You're not alone."

"Yes, yes I am..."

It was barely a ghost of a whisper, but the general caught it and sighed. "I am here. And I will be forever. I promise."

"You don't understand..." He circled the man, leaving himself closer to the edge again.

"But I can! You never give me the chance! I want to know you, god damn it, and how the hell am I going to do that if I never see... What you really feel..." He finished lamely.

"Do you even know what day this is?" He asked, his voice dangerously low.

Treize shook his head slowly.

"My parents died thirteen years ago today. They would have hated the man I've become." He averted his eyes during the soft-spoken words.

"Zechs, I'm... Sorry..."

"What, sorry that they died or that you're going to lose a multi-million dollar killing machine because of it?!!" He asked, growing angry and fierce again.

"Neither. Well, I am saddened by your parents' deaths, but I'm mainly sad because I'm going to lose a good friend. And a trusted one." He spoke honestly, plainly, and from the heart.

"Never figured you for a sappy one." Zechs snidely replied.

"Never figured you for a jumper."

He made a face at him. "You really don't notice anyone but yourself, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Jumping is not my first choice. But I can't seem to do any of the others right, so..."

"You...?" Treize was shocked and slightly horrified.

He folded up the sleeves on both arms. "Kitchen accident? Come on, Treize. You're not supposed to be that dense."

"How long..?"

Zechs pulled the sleeves back down and folded his arms across his chest. "Six years. One time every year."

"Zechs, there are people who can help you... And I'll be there for you, every step of the way." He tried, clearly groping for the right words.

"You don't really expect me to believe that you're going to do that, do you? I know you too well. Anything and anyone that is not efficient is shoved aside to be dealt with by someone else."

The harsh undertones of his friend's voice stung Treize like a slap across the face. "I... Well, I..."

"You can't help it, I know. It's not in your nature to cater to the weak. I'm sorry." He lowered his hands and put them in his pockets.

"For what?" He asked, confused.

"For... What might have been." He smiled sadly at the general, backed up, and disappeared over the edge of the building.

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What do you think? Please review! Please?!! It gives you good karma! Tell me if you liked how I ended it! I had some others in mind, but I liked this one the best.