It was a little past midnight when I heard the first noise. But the noise was soft, so I tried to ignore it and roll over to go back to sleep. Most annoyingly, it came again and again, louder and louder, and it was keeping my from sleep, so I got up to see what it was.

Outside it was pouring down rain—I could hear it hitting the rooftop and sliding down the tiles to fun from the roof to the ground in sheets like waterfalls. When it rained during the day I would sit at my window and just watch the waterfalls. At night, though, I was supposed to sleep. Besides, it'd started raining after I'd gone to bed.

There that noise was again—it was coming from my window. I slipped on my house shoes and shuffled tiredly over to the window. It was too early to be getting up—Mommy'd said that if the first number on my clock was smaller than seven when I woke up, I was supposed to go back to sleep. The first number was a one, so I was probably breaking the rules by getting up.

Lightning flashed outside and a shape was illuminated against my window. I wasn't frightened, though. I was too tired to be frightened, and so I shuffled over to the window and slid it open. Immediately I heard the sounds of the water falling in sheets from my rain gutters, the rattling of the water in the drainpipes that ran wound their way down the wall a few meters from my shutters, and the waving of the branches in the trees. The raindrops hit the leaves with a hollow sound, like the time when I'd spilled the rice on the glass table in the kitchen when I was five, a year ago. Mommy'd laughed when I did that, but Daddy got mad and yelled at me.

There was a boy standing on my windowsill. He was still dressed in his pajamas, the soaked material clinging to his skin. The boy was shivering and his teeth were chattering, and though I couldn't see his face, I knew who it was.

"Athrun-kun?"

He nodded, and I saw how muddy his body was. Without a word I stepped back and he slipped from the window and onto my floor. He was dripping on the carpet, but I didn't care. I closed the window.

"Kira-kun, do you have any band-aids?" he asked me. His voice was wavery, not steady. I nodded and padded out of my room, across the hall to the bathroom. I had to pull the stool out from the cabinet under the sink so I was tall enough to clamber up on top of the porcelain sink, and even then I had to stand up to open the cabinet behind the mirror and on tiptoe to reach the box of band-aids. I climbed down and put the stool away before going back to my room.

Athrun had pulled off his wet clothes, putting them in my laundry basket, and was pulling on a pair of my pajamas. I didn't mind. His arms, chest and back were covered with scratches and cuts. When I asked him how he got them, he was quiet for a moment and then said, "I fell down."

It took most of the whole box, but we got all his scratches covered. I made a second trip to the bathroom, this time to get him a cup of water. Holding it with both hands so I didn't spill it, I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and stared at the watery surface, telling it not to spill. After he drank the water, we both clambered up into my bed and got under the covers.

When I woke up in the morning, Athrun wasn't there, and the window was closed. But there was still a water mark on my carpet floor by the window, a set of dirty clothes in my basket, and a paper cup on my dresser.

That was the beginning of a tradition for Athrun and me. Now, ten years later, he still slips into my room in the middle of the night sometimes, borrow my clothes, let me doctor him up, and, after a cup of water, he'll fall asleep in my bed beside me. When I wake up, he's never there, but the empty cup and the clothes are there to remind me that it wasn't a dream.

I'm no longer a naïve child, and his excuse of falling down doesn't work with me anymore. He still gives me that excuse, when he says anything at all, and I don't make him tell me the truth because I already know it. Athrun's dad beats him up; sometimes his mom does too. Athrun will tell me when he's ready for me to know for sure, so I don't say anything.

At school he seems normal enough. Every day his black hair is shiny and impeccable, neatly combed and trimmed at his collarbone. His eyes are a vivid green, his skin a flawless alabaster. Athrun trains and conditions his body to keep lithe and nimble at all times of the year, since he plays on some of the sports teams. There's always a smile on his face and a lightheartedness in his voice whenever there are people around, but when it's just him and me, the mask falls.

Every time the mask falls, my heart breaks for him, and I fall further and further in love.

(! /)
(o.o)
(uu)

The clock numbers were just rolling over to three and double zero when I felt my shoulder being nudged. I rolled over and opened my eyes a little bit. Athrun leaned over my bed, dripping water onto my face. It was raining outside again. Not a word was spoken. I nodded and climbed out of bed.

Quietly so as not to wake my family, I slipped on my shoes, retrieved the bandages and gauze from my bathroom, and the traditional glass of water. By the time I returned, he had changed into a clean pair of pants and was holding a shirt in his hands.

"What happened, Athrun?" I asked him.

He didn't respond. He sat down on the edge of my bed and looked up at me with those sad eyes. I dropped my own and sighed. Over the years we'd learned how to doctor him better; I kept a small bottle of alcohol in the dresser by my bed as well as some painkillers. He held still while I cleaned his cuts out with the alcohol, placed a cotton pad over each one, and wrapped the gauze around his chest and waist to hold them there. I was just tucking the tail-end of the gauze strip under the others when his hand touched mine. My eyes went to his.

"I'm sorry, Kira," he whispered quietly. His voice quivered.

Some nights Athrun didn't just need a place to sleep, he needed an emotional shelter. After he gulped down a couple of painkillers and half of his water, we climbed up onto my bed and wrapped the quilt around ourselves, and then he moved onto my lap and laid his head on my shoulder. I wrapped one arm around his waist and ran the other hand down his cheek every so lightly. I felt the tears as they trickled down his cheeks, and then he was sobbing quietly. I held him as he let it all out.

It frustrated me that I couldn't do anything to help him. I tried not to let it bother me, but as I fell more in love with him, it nearly killed me every night he came to me like this. Part of me wanted to demand that he tell somebody about the abuse, but I didn't say anything, just held him. They were always careful never to hurt his face or arms, anywhere that would show. During swimming for gym class, they'd either lay off him, or, if they wanted to hurt him, they'd make up an excuse for him to stay out of the water.

The only thing I could never figure out was why. Why did the Zalas want to hurt their son? He was so beautiful, inside and out, smart and talented. What was so wrong with him?

When his tears stopped, I still held him, combing the tangles out of his blue-black hair with my fingers and lightly stroking his hip and back with my other hand. I was rocking him back and forth without realizing I was doing so until he mumbled something about beginning to be seasick. I tried to smile at that, but couldn't. How can they keep going and hurting him like this? I wondered. He didn't pull away from me, and I didn't let him go. It seemed he needed the comfort as much as I needed to give it.

"Kira?" he whispered. "Can we lay down?"

I nodded and stretched out. He lay beside me, head lying next to mine on the pillow, and turned to face me. We stared at one another in the darkness, shared the same heat, breathed the same air. Usually now he'd fall asleep.

But he did something unexpected. Very gently, almost fearfully, he pushed me onto my back and laid his head on my chest. Automatically my arms went around his back.

"I-I'd like to sleep like this, at least for tonight," he said softly. "I feel… safer…with your arms around me, Kira-kun."

I smiled sadly at that and held him tighter. "You haven't called me that since we were kids."

"I know." He was quiet after that, playing with the hem of my night shirt. I rolled the ends of his hair between my fingers.

I was drifting off to sleep when I felt him shift a bit, moving until he was fully lying on top of me. I didn't mind and tucked the blankets more tightly around us before wrapping my arms around him securely. He fidgeted until his head was tucked under my chin and he was curled up on top of me. Oddly, he was lighter than I'd thought he'd be.

I thought he'd go to sleep then. The clock beside the bed read four thirty-seven am. Tomorrow was Sunday and we wouldn't have school, so we could sleep in, but I knew when I woke up he more than likely wouldn't be there with me. I was somewhat amazed; this was the most I'd heard him speak at night.

He spoke again, and I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or not.

"Kira-kun?" the boy on top of me whispered.

"Nani?" I mumbled, nearly completely asleep.

"I love you."

I'm still not sure if I was dreaming or not.

(! /)
(o.o)
(uu)

Author's Notes:

This story is the product of too little sleep, exhaustion, and managing to get alcohol in my eye when I was taking off my mascara and eyeliner. When I got online to check my email, I was feeling kind of down and angsty. This story started out to be a scene of two children, one having a nightmare and going to the other. Then it was changed to suit Gundam Wing, and then to Gundam Seed, and now you see how it actually ended up. .:Laughs a bit:. Between writing this and messing with my music, I've managed to waste a good hour and a half I could've spent sleeping, but tomorrow really is Sunday, so I can always sleep in. Hope you liked it, and maybe there'll be more, I'm not sure yet. What do you think?