You Don't Need a Heartbeat (to Follow Your Heart)

By Threshie

AN: This is my first Escaflowne fanfic ever. Note that this's a deathfic, though not your average one. Please refrain from flaming me for writing something original. In fact, it'd be nice if you didn't flame me at all, lol--I'm sure you're smart enough to phrase any complaints into constructive critisism telling me what I did wrong and how you think it would've been better.

I'm sorry if Dilandau seems OOC in this fic, but I think he might have acted this way if this fic was a canon thing. I could be wrong, and if you think so go ahead and tell me, just please don't flame. I know Dilandau is a beloved character, and I really don't want a bunch of ravaging fans trying to kill me for my portrayal of him, LOL... Also, please note that this fic is AU--as in, things happen in it that don't coincide with the anime's storyline. I hope it leaves you thinking about it after you're done reading, because that's what marks good fanfiction for me.

Chapter 1 Until The Day I Die...

The stomping of booted feet dominated the room, ringing in Dilandau's ears in a ceaseless echo. If it had been one of his Dragon Slayers making the racket, he would have given them a stiff slap and commanded them to go stand very still somewhere far away from him. Unfortunately, none of the blue-clad boys were the source of the din--the footsteps belonged to Dilandau's own crimson boots.

As he paced, he wondered what to say to Shesta and the others. Ever since they had arrived back on the Vione, it had been like this. The five boys had seated themselves silently at the round table they usually reserved for card night. The seats had been chosen in some sort of mysterious syncronization, and not one of the Dragon Slayers had spoken a word since.

Dilandau knew that they were probably expecting orders of some sort--he never let them sit idle for long--, but he couldn't think of anything to order them to do. They were probably thinking back on their latest battle, which they'd finished less than an hour ago. He himself couldn't tear his mind from those last moments of combat. Those moments that were also the last of Dallet's life.

The end had come swiftly and unexpectedly for the quiet Dragon Slayer. One moment, Diladau was realizing a heartbeat too late that there was a large barrage of missiles headed toward him, and the next... Lord, he could still see the smoldering wreckage of Dallet's guymelef as it collapsed to the ground, the cockpit seeming to open of its own accord to drop the boy's battered body to the ground.

Dilandau had paused, demanding, "Dallet! Why the hell did you open your cockpit? Dallet?" Their guymelefs had been knocked down before, and Dallet knew he had the best chance of surviving behind the thick metal walls, so why...? Dallet did not reply. He lay very still...almost too still.

And that was when Dilandau recalled reading the guymelef schematics--particularly the part about the armor automatically opening the cockpit should the pilot's vital signs cease. This allowed salvage of the machine for future use. "Dallet?" He asked a bit more hesitantly, lightly nudging the boy's body with his guymelef's enormous crimson fingers.

There was no answer.

There never would be again, at least not from Dallet.

Dilandau bit his lip, hardly noticing as his small fangs retaliated with sharp little pricks of pain. He had been so distracted by Dallet's death--so downright shocked that it could happen to one of his best Dragon Slayers, and so fast--that Shesta had had to defend him from further attacks. The other Dragon Slayers had joined in, and in defense of their Dilandau-sama they had made short work of the opposition.

They didn't know yet, Dilandau knew. If they had, perhaps they wouldn't have been able to fight, either. Perhaps they all would have died. The Dragon Slayers seemed to do almost everything together. It's remarkable, Dilandau thought more to distract himself than anything, how they're such good friends even though they'd never known each other before becoming Dragon Slayers. They really do do almost everything together...

Except that now Dallet's fate was separate from theirs. Living on was at least one thing that all of the Dragon Slayers could not do together. Not anymore...

Dilandau continued with his pacing, for the moment leaving the remaining Dragon Slayers to their self-enforced silence. Let the shock wear off naturally...it would give him some time to think about it all, himself.

The silence was broken the next morning by Shesta. His voice sounded so distant to Dilandau, a faint call echoing through the fog of his dreamless sleep.

"Dilandau-sama!" The blonde boy exclaimed excitedly. The rather hesitant shaking of Dilandau's shoulder told him that the Dragon Slayer must need to tell him something really important. None of the boys would risk their commander's wrath by touching him without prior permission otherwise.

Sitting up and dragging his eyes open, Dilandau tried his best not to look exhausted and sleepy as he demanded, "What is it, Shesta?" Shesta didn't seem in the least intimidated. Dilandau took this as an insult to his authority, but the blonde boy's next words made him forget all about it.

"He's back, Dilandau-sama!" Shesta smiled brightly, "He's alive--he just came walking through the door!"

"People who walk are usually alive," Dilandau answered sourly, sitting up in bed and swiping unruly silver bangs from his face. "However, just for the sake of your personal safety, I suggest you inform me which living person you're talking about." Shesta blinked, then smiled again.

"It's Dallet, Dilandau-sama," he replied, glancing back out the bedroom door.

Dilandau blinked, allowing these words to sink into his sleepy mind for a second. As soon as the meanings followed the actual words, he abruptly climbed out of bed and rushed to the door to look for himself. Hurriedly, almost frantically, his pale red eyes shot from person to person, assessing who was present. There was Guime, and Gatti...that was Miguel over there, and--

He froze.

Standing near the door, talking quietly to a shocked-looking Viole, was Dallet!