I don't think you really understand. Nothing is what you think. Reality is not reality. Dreams are taboo grounds when conscious. Truths are lies, and secrets are common knowledge. Hidden motives lie within hidden motives. It goes too deep to comprehend.

What did you see in the darkness? Or what did you think you saw?

Do you know anything? What is actually real? What is false? How can we tell where something ends and something begins? How do we comprehend time? Does it exist? Do we?

It's all falling apart. Shattering like glass, leave broken fragments of something we never really understood. They cut the hands that reach for them. They need the color, that sickly red blood, to paint our world with its bloody pieces.

Because eventually, everything will go to hell.

It's only a matter of time.

And The World Falls Apart

By: Blade-kun

First Time: Bloody Pieces

Can You see the Cracks?

It was a sick game. That's really all it was. Can't they see that?

It didn't take me long to see that. I just had to wipe the blood out of my eyes, clear the red tint from my vision. Then it was so clear. I wondered how I missed it before.

I think I scared them. When I saw it for the first time, I was so entranced I lost my mind. I went berserk. I suddenly boiled with adrenaline and I couldn't breathe. It smothered me. I had to let it out. I went on a rampage.

They were horrified when I returned, standing on Quatre's doorstep. Somewhere in my mind, I had the nerve to be amused at the absolutely floored look on his face when he opened the door and saw me, terror consuming him at the red I was otherwise painted in. The slight drizzle couldn't even begin to wash it away.

I think what scared our blonde empath so much was the overwhelmingly, abysmal emptiness he felt in me. I had nothing. I felt nothing. I was as blank as a slate, not a single emotion to be found even in the deepest recesses of my soul. I had only clarity. Clarity of the truth. Even after I recovered, I felt nothing for the crime I had committed, the mass murder I reaped in my search to confirm it was real. Trowa was the only one who dared come near me. Duo felt too sick to come within range. Quatre too afraid. Wufei too horrified and utterly confused to even want to try to comprehend. It all came down to Trowa. Trowa was the only one who could. He was the only one empty enough to these things to bear it. And even he did not question, did not try to understand. He merely accepted it.

No, he did not pull me back from insanity. I was never really insane to begin with. I was just so overwhelmed by how clear everything was I couldn't cope. It was so very clear. It cracked my entire being, painting a spider web on the mirror of my soul. But it did not break me. It didn't shatter me. But, oh, how it dirtied me. How it hurt me at the same time it made everything easier, lighter, simpler.

Now I knew. And I cannot begin to tell.

I knew they were afraid. I didn't hold it against them. It was too much for them. Hell, it was almost too much for me. So I left. I couldn't hurt them like I hurt. The truth cracked me. It would surely shatter them.

Don't get me wrong. It isn't a bad truth. It's like emptying a full glass and filling it with something else. That's what it feels like. If you can survive the emptying, everything is better. But the emptying is so awful I can easily see how most can't. But the filling…it's better than anything. It's so wonderful you couldn't possibly put it into words. It just makes you feel so whole when you're done, more whole than you've ever felt. Drugs and all those other despicable highs and things pale in comparison to this otherworldly experience.

I don't ever want to turn back.

Because of this, I fear I may never again see my fellow pilots. At least, not of my own volition. If fate should have us meet, then so be it. But by my own conscious decision, I will never purposely return. Not because of them. Because of me. I know only too well what I could do to them. What what I know could do to them.

I hate the thought. It makes me hope that fate will have us meet again, for I am too stubborn to go back on my own.

Because the truth is…I don't want to break them.

"Heero?"

"Heero!"

I looked up into pools of green. So many emotions in them. Concern, confusion, and something else I could identify. I move my gazes to aqua ones. Fear, sadness, worry, and also confusion. I found the same emotions in violet orbs, and horror, concern, and utter bafflement in black ones. They were all here. I almost wanted to smile.

"Heero? What's going on? What are you doing here? What happened to you?" Quatre's voice was laced with worry. He reached out as though he wanted to touch me, but couldn't bring himself to.

I wanted to assure him, but my tongue felt heavy. I couldn't lift it. I could barely move my eyes. My lungs and throat felt thick with cotton, and there was a blurry red tint in my vision. I would've had been afraid if I hadn't still been able to feel the clarity. No, I wasn't reverting back. Everything was still clear. My blood could not hide the truth anymore.

"Heero…Good Gods, buddy," Duo said, kneeling next to Quatre before me. He actually touched my skin before retracting his hands.

I HAD to speak. There was too much that could be assumed if I didn't clarify something NOW.

"…not…" I gagged on my own words, it too so much effort to form them. My head somehow managed to shake as I continued, "…not…my…fault…not…" a pause, "…purpose…"

"Not on purpose, Heero?" Quatre offered. I nodded.

"…I…accident…"

"Heero, I don't understand. This was an accident? You're here by accident? What?"

I shook my head. I felt heavy. "…can't…see…you…" a shuddering breath. I was choking. "…can't…stay…"

I couldn't finish. Their eyes were the last thing I saw.

Darkness claimed me.

Trowa didn't know what to expect. He really didn't. He though this was just going to be a normal mission, a normal, run of the mill assignment. He certainly didn't expect to find one Heero Yuy sprawled on his stomach in the rain, bleeding from God knows how many wounds, and only barely conscious.

He was shocked to say the least.

He suddenly found himself crouched in front of the former Wing pilot, whom he hadn't seen in almost three years. Prussian eyes once alighted with fire gazed at him listlessly, almost lifelessly. But then, he did look pretty close to dying. Such a dull, drone, hollow color. Was Heero that empty now? Or was it just his injuries?

"Heero?" he finally said, amazed at the wonder and shock that thickly layered his tone.

That single word instantly caught the attention of the others, for it was uttered none too quietly, even though not loud. All eyes locked in on the half-dead pilot.

"Heero!" Quatre shouted, racing over. The others were hot on his heels.

The dull blue eyes finally lifted and fixed on Trowa's green ones, studying them. They slowly moved from his to Quatre's, then to Duo's, then to Wufei's, lingering on each. A quick something flashed in those blue depths before it was submerged. Recognition, maybe?

Quatre came forward and Trowa moved back out of the way. The blonde Arabian knelt before Heero.

"Heero? What's going on? What are you doing here? What happened to you?" Quatre's voice was laced with worry. He had no idea what was going on. How did this happen? How did Heero get here? Or like this? He reached out to touch him, but withdrew in fear. Fear of what he wasn't sure. He wasn't completely sure Heero was real.

Heero's mouth opened slightly, as though he wanted to speak. He didn't seem to notice as blood slowly trickled from the corner, added to the red trail already there. More blood was pouring from his forehead into his eyes, and he blinked sluggishly, his movements drunken as though he were drugged.

Hm. Drugged from pain.

"Heero…Good Gods, buddy," Duo said, kneeling next to Quatre. He reached out for the face that had haunted his mind since that awful day, fingertips brushing the cold skin. He bit back a hiss as he pulled back his hands. Heero's skin was like ice, but he felt like it burned him.

Now Heero looked fiercely distressed and determined. He opened his mouth a bit wider, tongue moving. Frustration passed through his eyes and he made a gagging sound.

"…not…" it was as though the words were stuck in his throat, like bile, and he was forcing, vomiting it out, shaking his head faintly, "…not…my…fault…not…" here he paused "…purpose…"

"Not on purpose, Heero?" Quatre helped.

Heero nodded very faintly and continued, "…I…accident…"

When he didn't continue, Quatre frowned. "Heero, I don't understand. This was an accident? You're here by accident? What?"

He shook his head, eyes pained and perhaps angry that he couldn't speak enough to be understood. Duo and Trowa noticed that he looked about to pass out.

"…can't…see…you…" he said weakly, shuddering and choking, "…can't…stay…"

He then promptly blacked out, eyes rolling shut as his head pitched forward with a soft thud on the concrete. Duo finally seemed to snap out of it, now that those eyes could no longer be seen, and hesitantly gathered Heero to him.

"And you say I'm an idiot," he mumbled sadly.

Trowa and Quatre glanced over the unconscious pilot, checking his wounds.

"He's freezing," Quatre said, "Who knows how long he's been out here, or how long he's been injured. The rain isn't helping any."

"He's bleeding too much," Wufei added, finally finding his voice, "At this rate it'll kill even him. There's so much it's impossible to tell exactly where it's coming from."

Duo nodded wordlessly as he tried to focus on something other than the blossoming crimson that was seeping into his clothes, drenching him, drowning him. Heero's hair was longer, but not by too much. His face held a faint frown and his body was tense. Duo could hardly believe it was him. It had been so long since they had last seen the Japanese boy, since that nightmarish incident. If it weren't for the cold, dead weight he held in his lap, he wouldn't have believed it, but it was all too solid. Too real.

"What do we do now?" he asked quietly, brushing the boy's bangs lightly.

"We need to get him to a hospital," Trowa said calmly, "We can't help him here."

Duo nodded. Trowa waited until he made eye contact, seeking permission almost, before gently taking Heero into his own arms and lifting him up. Quatre and Duo stood as well.

"Let's go."

END PART ONE

First chapter complete. Vague, I know. I'm quite sure you have no idea what the hell is going on and are staring at your screen thinking, 'this chick is messed up. Is this supposed to make sense?' I assure you I'm sane, and that the pieces will all fall together as the story progress. If you're willing to put up with the riddles and bullshit long enough to stick around. Back out now, or stay posted. It's gonna be a hell of a ride.

PREVIEW: Can You see the Cracks? Part two

How can I explain? My world is falling apart. A secret I've held in for so long, and a truth I don't want to acknowledge. Can I be saved? What am I afraid of? Save me from myself. There's a bloodstain on the window, and the hand is clearly mine. I can't stop falling apart. Will you pick up the pieces?