Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue.
Warnings: angst, slash, fluff, optional lemon, über lameness in certain parts
Other Notes: This fic was inspired by La Vita Va Su (even the titles are both in Italian!), so if you've read that, you'll notice a few similarities that I really tried not to do... If you haven't read it, you should check it out, especially you citrus freaks. This fic takes place after the series and before Endless Waltz.
There's an alternate lemon ending, so read it, the other one, or both.
Also, I'd like some good reviews. Please don't give me reviews like this:
nor this:
If possible, mention one thing you liked and one thing you didn't like. It would be much appreciated!
:: shuts her piehole ::
Enjoy!
Chapter One
"Wake up, Milliardo."
Blue eyes flew open as he gasped and bolted upright. Clenching the sheets, the man looked around his room to see for himself that he wasn't hallucenating, then forced himself to blink. He took a few deep breaths and shifted positions on the bed, running a hand through blonde locks. A bead of sweat rolled from his forehead to the tip of his nose and dropped onto his lower lip, causing his tongue to dart out and involuntarily to catch the straying drop.
"Just a dream," Zechs whispered. He shook his head. "Just that same damned dream."
He got up and trudged to his dresser, opening the second drawer and pulling out a neatly folded pair of sweatpants and a button-down shirt.
It's been almost a week now since I've started having it.
After dressing, he walked to his kitchen. Opening a cabinet, he searched until he found a small package of Café Italiano, and opened it.
"I think I can say for certain that's the only sleep I'm going to get tonight," he mumbled, as if giving himself permission for caffeine consumption.
Grounds in filter, brew started, Zechs pulled out a chair and sat at the table, quickly lost in thought. Why am I having that dream? I can't even remember what it's about, just that something disturbing happens. Then Treize- He flinched at the name. -tells me to wake up. And each time there's a brief hope that he's really there beside me, telling me to wake up from my nightmare. I wake up and he's gone. Why? Why is this happening? If I could at least remember the dream, I could maybe figure out what it meant.
The coffee maker beeped, breaking Zechs' train of thoughts. He blinked and realized his cheeks were damp with tears.
He stood to retrieve his coffee. "You're so pathetic."
"This is Marcy Newport - "
" - and Bill Hartman - "
" - with the L1-NN news. Earth nation leaders made official today the creation of the organization ESUN, standing for Earth Sphere United Nations. Leaders of ESUN, including Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs Relena Peacecraft, are calling for peace between Earth and the colonies."
Zechs sat down in the armchair. I wonder how Relena's doing? She probably thinks I'm dead like everyone else does. He frowned, then stifled a yawn. I didn't realize how tired I am. I'll finish watching the news and take a nap, I suppose.
"Nothing has been heard from the military group OZ. The organization was assumed to be eliminated after the death of its leader, Treize Khushrenada. In other news, delegates from L3..."
The blonde-haired man froze upon hearing Treize's name. "Even the news has to remind me." Tears welled up in his eyes and he slammed down a fist on the coffee table. "No! I can't keep breaking down every time I hear his name. I won't cry. Not this time." But he broke his promise, the tears falling again. He leaned back in the chair, shaking uncontrollably and silently weeping, until he fell into a deep slumber.
He turned as an explosion went off behind him. He recognized one of the mobile suits as the Tallgeese, and his eyes grew wide. He started to cry out, but realized there was some sort of fluid surrounding him. It was now up to his waist, and he cupped a hand and brought the liquid up to his face, noting its thickness. It was blood. He opened his mouth to scream, but the blood was rising rapidly and flowed into his mouth. Disgusted, he swam up and spit it out. Swimming, pushing, forcing his way through blood, trying to get air. His efforts were in vain; there seemed to be a force pushing him down further into the tainted ocean. Finally, he was no longer able to stay up and gave into the force, drowning in human blood. He had abandonned all hope, when Treize's voice called out to him:
"Wake up, Milliardo."
Zechs did just that, terrified at what he had just seen. He panted heavily, almost to the point of hyperventilation. Eyes straight ahead at the TV that had been left on, he brought his hands up to his face. "I- I- That was- It was...blood!" Getting his breathing and heart rate under control, he brought his hands back to his side. "My God, is that what I've been dreaming about the last few nights?" I can't fall asleep again. Not if I'm going to have that dream. I have to stay awake.
The next three days went by slowly, Zechs spending his nights either reading or watching late-night TV. The second night he almost fell asleep, but caught himself in the first stage of REM. He then had looked at the television screen and realized he had been watching infomercials. That's also when he realized that the sleep deprivation must be starting to affect him.
"This can't be good for my health. It's two in the morning and I'm watching infomerials." What other choice do I have?
The following night, he was to the point of being too tired to function normally. He fixed leftover spaghetti for dinner because he simply didn't have the energy to make anything else, and didn't want to clean himself up if someone came to deliver food. In the process of clearing the table, the plate fell, shattering to pieces on the floor.
"Shit!" He winced, the lack of sleep making his hearing sensitive.
He let out a sigh of frustration and decided to leave the mess to clean up the next day. Instead he waved his hand at the shattered glass in dismissal and walked to the bathroom.
Maybe a shower will wake me up. Zechs grabbed a towel and removed his clothes. He stepped in the shower and turned the water on to hot, hesitated, and changed it to cool, despite the fact that he hated taking showers that were anything less than steaming. This would wake him up more.
After less than ten minutes, much shorter than he usually spent in the shower, he had had enough and decided to get out. He shivered. Quickly drying off and wrapping the towel around his waist, he leaned on the sink counter and looked into the mirror.
Treize, I really hope you can't see me right now.
There were dark purple circles under his eyes. He had also lost a lot of weight. The muscles in his arms and chest were less defined and his face was less full.
I know if you were here you'd yell at me to take better care of myself.
After dressing, he ventured into the basement and retrieved a bottle of AC 173 Cabernet Sauvignon. He had been living off coffee and water, and was sick of it. He poured himself a glass while in the kitchen and took it to his room. Grabbing a book he had recently bought, he laid on his bed, took a sip of wine, and opened the book, skipping the Acknowledgments.
'FACT: The Priory of Sion-- a European secret society founded in 1099--is a real organization. In 1975'...
He read for close to two hours before he realized he had reread the same paragraph several times. His eyelids were getting heavy and he could barely keep them open. The book slipped out of his hand, but he couldn't manage the strength to pick it up. His eyes shut. Goddamnit. I shouldn't have drank that wine. He tried to force himself to open his eyes and sit up, but he was paralyzed. No, I can't...
His mind was going numb, and he could no longer do so much as think straight. Unwillingly, he fell asleep.
The dream began as it always did. Treize and Zechs stood amongst a sea of stars, in the middle of space, with nothing but darkness and white dots of light surrounding them. Treize brought his lover's hand to his lips and brushed them lightly.
"I'm sorry Milliardo, but I must leave."
The younger man frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Take care of yourself." He brought a hand to Zechs' cheek and smiled. "I love you."
In the blink of an eye he was gone. Zechs touched his cheek where Treize's hand had been. "Treize..."
He turned as an explosion went off behind him. He recognized one of the mobile suits as the Tallgeese, and his eyes grew wide. He started to cry out, but realized there was some sort of fluid surrounding him. It was now up to his waist, and he cupped a hand and brought the liquid up to his face, noting its thickness. It was blood. He opened his mouth to scream, but the blood was rising rapidly and flowed into his mouth. Disgusted, he swam up and spit it out. Swimming, pushing, forcing his way through blood, trying to get air. His efforts were in vain; there seemed to be a force pushing him down further into the tainted ocean. Finally, he was no longer able to stay up and gave into the force, drowning in human blood. He had abandonned all hope, when Treize's voice called out to him:
"Wake up, Milliardo."
There was no scream, no heavy breathing, no abrupt movement. He was too much in a state of shock. Zechs managed to open his eyes, but was completely paralyzed otherwise.
I have to go to his grave.
The next thing he was aware of was being in his car, behind the steering wheel, engine started, and completely dressed. He had no memory of changing clothes, of putting on a jacket, of grabbing his keys, of getting in his car and starting it. Everything that had happened since he woke up had been erased from his mind. The only thing he had on his mind was going to Treize's grave.
I have to go.
It was almost one in the afternoon. The cemetery was an hour's drive away. With as much common sense as he could muster, Zechs took as many backroads and deserted highways as he could for fear of killing someone in his frantic race. His hands were shaking on the steering wheel. Not once did he blink. The reading of 145 kilometers per hour (A/N: about 90 mph) on the speedometer went unnoticed. He came upon a car ahead and passed it up without signalling or checking oncoming traffic. Fortunately there was none.
I have to go NOW.
After ten minutes, he slowed his speed and turned into the cemetery. Driving up the one-lane road, his eyes scanned until he was in the area he had been only once before. He slammed the door and started running. He stopped in front of Treize's and his own adjacent gravestones.
Milliardo Peacecraft
AC 176 - 195
Treize Khushrenada
AC 171 - 195
"Why?" He sank to his knees. "Why are you doing this to me? I love you, Treize!" Tears streamed down his face. "And you're gone now! Haven't I suffered enough?!" he screamed. His fist hit the ground. "Why did you leave?! Was it my fault? Because we couldn't settle our differences about the war?" His voice became softer. "If I would have known it would end like this..."
Hands traced the name etched on the stone. "No one should ever die that young. Especially not you." He stood. "No, no. It should have been me instead. I'm the one who put millions, billions of people's lives in danger to satisfy my own selfish ideals. I can't say I agreed with you, but at least you're not as pitiful as I was. As I am right now."
Zechs sat down, suddenly feeling extremely lightheaded. His entire body became numb, and he felt someone's eyes watching him. He didn't care. Through vision blurred by tears, he read Treize's name on the headstone once more, then lost consciousness.
A gasp came from a few yards back. Ebony eyes stared at the limp body of Zechs Marquise, and from behind a tree appeared the dark figure of WuFei Chang.
End Notes/Lecture Time!: So what did you think? Really? Well, don't tell that to your monitor; pull up that menu at the bottom of the page and select 'Submit Review', then click that button next to it that says 'Go'.
Kids, Mr. Peacecraft/Marquise did a very bad thing in this fic. He tried to get rid of the dreams by not sleeping. While this is effective, it also screws you up in other ways. I stayed up for three days in a row one time because I was trying to avoid a recurring nightmare. SLEEP DEPRIVATION SUCKS! If you're having this problem, try looking at dream interpretation books and figuring out what your dream symbols could represent in your waking life. (FYI - you can interpret Zechs' dream any way you like.)
Kari