Between Him and Her
by Apple-chan

Summary: She could never be his. He couldn't protect her if he stayed. But...he wasn't going to let him leave. JeannexLysergxMarco.

Warnings: PG-13 for issues and slight shounen ai, just to be safe. And warnings for the triangulation...er, triangle.

Dedicated to PrismaticMage and pyro-angel, who are both responsible for converting me into a MarcoxLyserg fan--the last pairing I ever thought I'd end up liking. To Yui-chan and Yomi, hope you like this one.=)

In case it wasn't obvious enough, Lyserg is 20 here, Jeanne is 16, and Marco is 33.

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Part One: Departure


Lyserg stared unemotionally at the door of his room, his heart heavy, his mind still pondering relentlessly upon the last words his precious lady had uttered to him, just before she retreated with painful, unmistakable finality to her haven that is the Iron Maiden.

"This is my destiny. No one can change it...not you, not Marco, nor I--not even if I wanted to. When I chose this path of sacrifice, years ago, I knew from the first moment what it entailed. I know how much of myself I have to give up to save everyone.

"And I know, as well...I can never go back. I will bear this burden until I die."

And when she looked upon him afterwards, her eyes were full of pain, grief, and love...yet at the same time, they reflected a firmness, a strong resolve. And a farewell.

She would not turn back. Not for herself, not for anyone, or anything...not even love. Even as she held both of his hands then, through her eyes, her words...and the sadness of her smile, he knew--and he felt--that his last hope to have her was no more.

As he turned to fasten his second and final suitcase, he smiled bitterly at his reflection in the mirror. Right from the start, he knew he never had a chance with her. She could never belong to just one person, for she was Iron Maiden Jeanne--a prophet, a saint, a savior. She belonged to the WORLD. She belonged to everyone.

She had sworn an oath, and bound herself within an unbreakable vow; and through this vow, she had promised herself--wholly and fully--to the highest, most supreme of all beings: God.

And as for him...years ago, he had sworn to himself that he would protect her with his life. His wings would guard her from all sorts of harm, enabling her to save the world, to save all humans without any outside interference. He would serve her just as long as she wished to be served.

A protector, an angel, the servant of the savior--those are the only things he would ever be to her, and nothing more.

It was wrong of him to think, to even consider that there could ever be anything else...and yet, he did...and that was the greatest mistake he had ever made.

Falling in love with her was a mistake.

With a loud, frustrated sigh, he packed what remained of his things, stood up, and walked out the door.

At the Church Hall, he ran his eyes gently, painstakingly all around the walls, the pillars, and the carvings of the sacred structure. There was a certain point in his life when he had began to consider this place home...but now, he was leaving again, never to return. Although she never told him, he knew it was what she would have wanted. There was nothing for him here anymore. He couldn't protect her the way he used to any longer. The circumstances, the changes in the two of them, and more importantly, his feelings--they would only hinder him from doing what he was tasked.

His gaze lingered most particularly at the center of the altar, where the hollow metal torture device known as the Iron Maiden was situated; and within its punishing prickling walls, the young woman he loved so dearly would forever be imprisoned.

An odd constriction throbbed painfully from his throat, down to his chest, restricting his breathing. He clenched his fists at his sides and forced himself to look away, fervently reminding himself of what she had told him. This was her choice. This was what she thought would be best for everyone. This was a vow she could never break; a promise she had made to the Lord. She needed to do this to save everyone. To save HIM.

If this is my salvation, he thought bitterly, then I'd rather not be saved.

He knew he couldn't stay here anymore. Being near her, yet unable to touch her, to see her as he wanted, and to LOVE her--it was killing him.

With the remaining amount of strength he had, he tore his gaze from the accursed iron prison. Tightening his hold on his belongings, he turned on his heel and pushed open the magnificent double doors, closing them as quietly as he could manage behind him.

-

He found his blonde, bespectacled superior waiting for him at the foot of the stone path that led outside the church.

Nearly a decade ago, he never would have had the courage to look at Marco the way he was looking at him now--straight in the eye, with not even an ounce of hesitation, trepidation or terror coming over him. A long time ago, he would have needed to crane his neck just to gaze at Marco's face. Now, it wasn't necessary, for over the years, as his mind grew in knowledge and his heart learned how to love...physically, he had grown as well. Currently, he was roughly the same height as the blonde man, even though Marco was a decade and three years older than him.

If the man had treated him like a child previously, now, the two of them were equal...in many ways.

Marco's eyes briefly regarded the suitcases Lyserg was carrying before looking up, scrutinizing the green-haired young man with that same penetrating gaze Lyserg had been used to for the past eight years.

However, something about Marco's gaze has changed; for beneath that look which seemed to probe into one's whole being, a hint of sadness, concern, and more importantly, care...was reflected in the blonde's eyes.

In the eight years that had passed, just as things between him and Jeanne had changed, something similar happened between him and Marco. Similar, yet different.

With a small, barely audible sigh, Lyserg bowed his head and walked down the stone path, surveying the blonde at the corner of his eye, yet pointedly ignoring him. If there was one person in this whole place who would be able to stop him from leaving, despite what he wanted to do--it would be Marco.

He reached the step in front of the blonde, pausing abruptly, for the way was blocked. He reluctantly raised his head and gazed at Marco, eye to eye, without blinking.

Marco's face betrayed no emotion. "You are not leaving." He said quietly, sternly.

"Yes. I am." Lyserg insisted in a firm voice. "I can't stay here anymore. Not after--" he broke off, and shook his head. "...I have to go," he gave Marco a pleading look, and pushed him gently aside, attempting to pass through...but the man pulled him forcefully by the shoulder.

"Don't." Marco's voice held the briefest hints of a request. "...Please."

He shook his head vehemently. "I can't. For everyone's sake, I really should go--"

"Why?" Marco said in a demanding tone.

"Because this is the best thing. For all of us. For the rest of the world." He stated flatly.

"You promised to protect her. WE promised to protect her. Are you saying you want to BREAK that promise?!?"

"I am NOT breaking any promises!" Lyserg retorted.

"Then what are you DOING?"

"Protecting her!"

"By leaving? HOW?!?"

"Don't you understand?" Lyserg asked impatiently. "THIS is the only way I can protect her. From MYSELF," he burst out. "If I stay here any longer, I'll only be hurting her, and I can't do that anymore!"

The briefest wave of pain washed over Marco's features and left as quickly as it came. "And just for that...you're leaving?"

"Yes." He answered with conviction.

Marco didn't speak after this, but merely stared at him. An odd, inexplicable expression was reflected in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Lyserg whispered fleetingly as the blonde finally moved to let him pass. He knew Marco was still looking at him; and as he took several more steps towards the main road, he silently wondered why his feet felt so heavy, like they were glued to the cemented pathway. He had resolved to himself that he would leave--if not for the sake of Jeanne, or himself--then at least, for the sake of humanity.

However, he had forgotten one very important detail--one very important person.

Marco. Try as he might, Lyserg knew he couldn't leave Marco just like that. Whether he insists upon it nor not, Marco deserved an explanation...a better explanation than the one he had given.

Lyserg didn't know if he would be able to explain. This was something between him and Jeanne. Marco didn't need to know anything. He was way out of the subject.

...Wasn't he?

Somehow, for the length of the that he'd known him, Lyserg couldn't quite remember when it was that he had started to regard Marco as...something more than a comrade, a friend, a companion. Perhaps it was during that time when he had started to regard Jeanne not just merely as the savior he had to protect, but....as someone he could be with, and someone he could love.

Nevertheless, there were unmistakable differences between the two that cannot be denied. More than the natural physical and age difference, between them, the easiest to reach was Marco, because he, like Lyserg, treaded on solid ground; whereas Jeanne--she was of Heaven, and because of that, she and Lyserg would forever remain at the opposite ends of the world. They would forever be separated by a great dividing distance. And although Heaven can touch Earth...it can only reach so far, so much, and only for so long. There is no permanence...except for the painfully clear fact that they can never be together.

Still, he didn't want to turn to Marco, if only for the reason that he couldn't be with Jeanne, and Marco was the only person who can provide him even a small semblance of comfort. No matter how close they are, and...whatever Marco feels for him, if there is any...it just wouldn't be fair. He didn't want to hurt Marco. There was enough pain in the world to last everyone a lifetime; there shouldn't be any more.

"...Goodbye," Lyserg whispered, turning his head slightly one final time to gaze at Marco, trying his best to remember every vivid detail about the man who was his leader, his head, his advisor, his mentor, his comrade, and later--his very close friend--and engraving them into his heart. He would never forget. He could never forget. There was too much between them that can never be erased. Too many words exchanged. Too many memories made. Too much sadness, shared...

Nothing can be forgotten. Everything will be remembered.

He saw Marco clenching his fists at his sides, and he knew--the man wanted to stop him from leaving. But in the end...the determined look in his eyes, and the finality in his greeting told Marco all he needed to know. With a weak, resigned sigh, the blonde shook his head, turned around and walked back towards the Church.

Lyserg caught the barest hints of a farewell from the man he had grown to know and care about for the past eight years. Replacing his hat on his head, he pivoted and walked down the path to leave, never to return again.

-

TSUZUKU.

-

Notes:

Yes, it doesn't have much of a point yet. And it's kind of weird. But well, I'm weird, so...

Credit for the title goes to the brilliant mind of the brilliant person known as da-mouse. Nezumi-chan, thank you for being so brilliant. :P

This fic was mostly inspired by the SKRP Community at LiveJournal. For details on that, have a look at my profile. The link to the journal community is there.

Lastly, comments/suggestions/criticism/reactions/etc are always welcome. If you intend to flame me, please make sure to observe proper punctuation, grammar, and correct spelling. If you don't, I'm just going to ignore you. Thanks.

UP NEXT: Part Two: Redemption - Marco's thoughts and feelings...and his resolve.