Title: Neither Time nor Fate

Author Jusrecht

Pairings: Meyrin + Athrun and Athrun/Cagalli

Disclaimer: NOT mine

Warning: Spoilers to Gundam SEED Destiny ep. 46. Read that HEAVY spoilers. Even if you don't mind spoilers, you may want to reconsider since this probably won't make much sense unless you have watched that episode.

Notes: I do NOT hate Meyrin, because when I hate someone, I won't bother remembering him/her. However, since I'm writing this from her point of view, this may offend those who like her really very much. Perhaps though, I'm not so sure myself.

Was it time?

The first shot rang sharply, deafeningly in the afternoon heat and Meyrin whipped her head upward to search for the source. Her second reaction afterward, much more sensible than the initial, was to secure herself into the shadow of the ruined building, squatting as she did so. Gunshots were all around her and she impulsively sheltered her head in her arms, unused to close battlefield despite her military education. She saw, from the corner of her eyes, a mass of long, pink hair in his arm, and it was the first wave of heartache, so real and raw that she had to close her eyes and hurled the malicious thought away.

Was it fate?

He leapt forward, shielding himself from bullets with more spluttering of bullets from his short-barreled gun. She felt her heart clenching in pain – in worry – and she almost cried out his name, almost stopped him although he was simply out of her reach.

But he had always been out of her reach. Always.

She watched him taking cover behind steps of stone seats, her eyes burned on him as he took more men down with unbelievable precision. A soft, calm voice rose from her right, gentle, almost inaudible amidst the tumult of gunfire, and it momentarily took her mind off him. She looked sideways; astonished, because calm was not a word to be used in the front line, and much aware of another emotion, thinner but sharper, presiding in the darker corners of her heart. Lacus Clyne always roused the particular emotion within her, but in return, she had always shoved it away, taking refuge in the knowledge that the beautiful, incomparable lady was his best friend's, not his.

Then, who was his?

She had observed him throughout the day, noting every slight change of his face. There was a flash of melancholy in his eyes every time he looked at his former fiancée and she wondered of a love long forgotten. There was a gentle look in his face every time he spoke to his childhood friend and she wondered if he saw a similar face with much brighter hair and shorter temper. But above all, there was a quiet, remorseful look every time he laid his eyes on her and she wondered of a chance that had never been there, and then his eyes would divert to a distant place she could not reach, a place she had no right to reach.

And every time she wanted to shout, I am here. I care for you.

But he could not hear it – of course. She had never dared to say it. She had never been the brave one – unlike his sister – save for the one time she had, out of impulse, decided to help him to escape from Minerva. She had stayed by his side since then, drifting aimlessly along the thin line of hope, questioning herself whether a burden or a pillar she was to him. And in the middle of the confusion, she had returned to his life.

That if she had ever left his heart even for just a moment.

Another shot and a shrill cry echoed above all sounds, putting an end to her darkening thoughts. Meyrin turned at the sound, pride swelling up in her as she noticed that his accuracy once again had earned him a clean mark. The subsequent minutes were a blur to her as everything moved too fast and all she could remember was her eyes shying away from the sudden sunlight, then an earsplitting blast and its following quake. More gunshots, more pained cries, and she aiming her gun to a too small, too dangerous grenade. Another explosion and the next thing she recognized were blinding gold.

It was her. She had come again.

Naturally there was relief, because they had more aid now, and yet the other emotion was stronger, harsher. Meyrin almost shouted to the Akatsuki, either in anger or sadness she did not know, that he was her only strength here and now, in a foreign place she had no one else to turn to. Fortunately, Kira's voice reminded her just in time that it was not the leader of ORB who was riding it – Mwu-san as he called him – and she bit her tongue, swallowing the words back to the depth of her stomach.

What was that?

It was terrifying, the intensity of the moment, and she felt herself trembling despite the bright sunlight. Never before she had known that she was capable of such powerful hate, above all to a person with those gentle golden eyes and a soft voice that was just a little too wistful. A great person, she had told herself that, one who deserved his love, his heart and soul.

But it hurt. It still hurt.

His voice pulled her out of her reveries. The apologetic look, a hint of anxiety in it, was more than enough to force her nurse the hateful feeling yet again. It was time, it was only time that Cagalli won from her; it was only because she had met him earlier than she did. And fate, because fate had favored the ORB princess and not her.

A shot and she felt it was her who had been shot. For her jealousy. And her wicked thoughts.

The frail body whirled in front of her eyes before finally slumping into Lacus's arms, a trail of blood following like gauzy red silk. A scream that could not escape constricted her throat as she stared into Athrun's back, unable to move as more firing filled the air.

He was shattered. She could feel it.

She watched him kneeling by Meer's side and listened to his torn whispers as if in slow motion. It felt like an eternity later when she finally let her eyes look away from his dark hair to a pair of brimming, bright blue eyes, and she felt yet another surge of ache. The eyes loved him, probably not as Meer, but as Lacus – and she had been Lacus for too long – she had always loved him.

It was cruel. It was unfair.

The gun fell from her hand to the ground and a teardrop followed. Pained, broken gasps were all she could hear as they fell quietly, firmly from a pair of quivering lips. How could she still be so strong, was the question Meyrin had never ceased to ask as she looked at the deathly pale face and listened to the desperate promises. Perhaps it was easier to let go when one was at the brink of death. Meer was letting go of him, she knew, letting go of the false life she had been clinging so tightly to and embracing her beautiful genuine self.

But did it have to be death?

It did not suppose to be. Meer had been ready, though perhaps still a little reluctant, to seek and gain her old self back, and yet the chance was taken from her. Staring at the picture clasped so tightly in Lacus's hand, listening to Athrun's voiceless sobs, she felt her own tears flowing freely.

It didn't have to be, she heard herself promising.

Amidst the tears she managed to smile; a forlorn and yet thankful smile, because Meer Campbell, the girl she had once detested with her every immaturity for being someone she could not, had finally freed her from the immaturity itself. It was hard, it hurt, it was probably unfair, but neither time nor fate had decided that she should fall in love with Athrun. She had decided herself, and there was no one else but herself who could force her to let go.

It didn't have to be death after all.

--End--

Notes: I hate Meer's death. It makes everything looks so cliché – what with her saving Lacus and all. Anyway, it may be the best ending Sunrise can give her so I won't mope around. I guess I'm only looking for another reason to make her death look less cliché and there goes this story. I haven't watched the next episode so this may turn to be an AU after all.