Author note: Sorry for quite the break between this update and last chapter. Final exams got in the way, as did writing some of my other stories, but I did have this on my mind a lot lately. Enough of my gibberish, here's another chapter!

Warmth kissed his pale skin. He could barely feel it at first, nothing but a simple tingling feeling, then as he surfaced to the edge of consciousness Athrun had the luxury of feeling it. It had been too long. Too long since he had felt this way. Too long since he was warm and felt calm and at complete ease.

Something obviously wasn't right.

The ends of his hair tickled his left cheek, stirring a dancing sensation as his flesh became irritated. Then he felt something brush against his forehead. A palm perhaps. But who it was only created a blank spot in his weeping mind and heart. He cared not. He had nothing to care for anymore.

It hit Athrun then.

The events of the past few days, most of which he wished forgotten, flooded back to him. They were hurtful and sad and filled with anger and hate. But one stood out the most. And that was the memory of barely making it to Kira's house as pain threatened to cut his life short, though the injury wasn't all that bad. But his heart had been hurting and he had felt abandoned.

Cracking his eyes open so that they were only slits, Athrun got his first glance at life outside of the PLANTs house. A wave of calmness rushed over him, stronger than before, making it tempting to give into the quiet whisper of sleep. However, as Athrun tried to move, the river dried up and was replaced with pain. A great amount of pain.

He let out a groggy moan and felt the hand lift from his forehead. He immediately missed the warm feel of it and slowly turned his head to the side without much trouble, emerald eyes catching a glimpse of the person who held him gently.

Kira lay on his bed, sheets strewn about here and there in a messy fashion. Athrun was resting half awake, half asleep in his lap. He had felt the movement in his still body and had so many thoughts rushing through his head. But more importantly, he wanted to know what had happened to his long time friend.

Athrun stiffed a rare smile, one Kira hadn't seen since their childhood. He tried to raise himself, elbows digging into flesh, causing him to lay back down and apologize for hurting Kira. He was answered with a quiet "hush" before his brown haired friend began to stroke his hair, fingers dancing briefly on his scalp then pushing away. It made him feel giddy, even in a condition such as this.

"What the hell has happened to you Athrun?" Kira asked.

His voice was filled with such tragic sadness, something Athrun blamed on his father. He could see the worry just bouncing off his friend and wondered how much things Kira had gone through. They had to of been a thousand times worse than the things he himself had gone through, especially since his friend had a knack for being emotional. But he could also pick up on the emotions on others, and that caused a lot of bad feelings to corrupt his heart as well.

"I-" Athrun choked on his words, undecided if he should tell Kira or not. After all it would only cause him to feel more pain, but it was best just talking about it. "I-I... had a fight with my father..."

Athrun bowed his head, blue locks of hair covering his eyes. He hated his father for the things that he had done, but hate was such an emotion he wished to never feel. Hoping that sleep would take him back with open arms, Athrun closed his eyes but found a hand under his chin, gently pushing his face upwards.

He stared into the pure violet depths of Kira's eyes and felt himself freeze. He saw happiness in there, but mixed with it was an awful amount of sadness, something that was partly his fault. No it was all his fault. Everything. Kira's sadness would be there forever and it was because of everything that he did.

Everything.

Kira on the other hand, was fighting his own inner battles. It was his fault that Athrun had been shot because he was his friend and certain opposed that and wanted him dead. What would he have done if Patrick Zala had aimed for Athrun's heart? He wouldn't know what to do. He'd be absolutely lost.

"Don't blame yourself," Kira spoke as he witnessed hidden emotions dance within deep emerald orbs. But he was blaming himself too and he knew that Athrun suspected that.

Athrun wanted to make everything better. To restore their broken friendship. To mend it no matter how long it took. But he felt there was something he was missing. And as he stared at Kira and Kira stared back, he felt their friendship healing and with it came something more.

Taking his friend by surprise, Athrun raised himself, ignoring the swelling pain in his arm, and brought his lips flesh against Kira's. He was afraid of his feelings, scared to death by them, but he was more concerned about rejection. He had faced it more than enough throughout his life, but he was caught off guard when Kira returned the simple kiss.

Hearts pounding and healing at the same time, Athrun and Kira slowly broke away, both becoming as red as tomatoes. Before anything else could happen, the door burst open, startling them, sending their hearts into a much more painful and faster pace.

"Quick!" Tolle yelled at the top of his lungs, then cut himself short upon seeing Athrun. It didn't help that both occupants of the room were blushing like crazy. "Come see the news! And let me tell ya, it ain't pretty."

"We'll be right there Tolle," Kira spoke up, then motioned to Athrun who was still resting in his lap. "This is my friend from a long time ago, Athrun."

Tolle gave a quick nod of recognition and left quickly. Kira slid carefully from under Athrun and helped his friend up, making sure that he didn't hurt him any further. It was then that the blue haired mobster realized that his arm was bandaged up and the blood had retreated.

Standing up in a tipsy fashion, Athrun struggled for balance but Kira straightened him out. Offering a quick thanks, the runaway locked Kira's lips with his own one more time, trying to prove to his heart that it wasn't wrong. A warm feeling erupted in his stomach, something he hadn't felt before and immediately knew it to be love.

And Kira was returning it.

They hesitantly broke apart, eyes staring into one another. Kira made for the door first, then ushered Athrun to follow, keeping a constant eye on him just in case his friend slipped. No, Kira couldn't call Athrun his friend anymore, he was more to him than that. He loved him.

Once in the living room, Athrun and Kira came to stand in front of the television where Tolle had purposely turned the volume up for the entire world to hear. It was a news report, something small by the looks of it, but all that changed as scenes from the fight the other day were displayed.

"The Mafia," a voice echoed in the background, "has filled the streets with violence for centuries. But one man, a man who is apart of the dangerous lifestyle, has a solution." The pictures cut into live footage of an aging man up on a battered podium wearing an expensive suit and tie. His aging hair was jelled back professionally and he spoke with calm words flowing freely from his dried lips.

"I, Patrick Zala, Don of the PLANTs, have come to the conclusion that our world cannot be controlled with terrible violence and blood shed. And I will put an end to this era of hate. There will be no poverty, no fighting over money, no more deaths by gunfire. And that I promise you."

"Although the Don hasn't stated what his main objective is," the voice came back, some news reporter who was camera shy, "he has promised a great deal of things which have yet to be carried out. Followers and supporters are growing and it looks like there may be a bright future after all for those in the world who are subjected to violence and poverty. And in other news..."

Athrun and Kira were shock still, eyes never leaving the television. Although images were being shown and people speaking, they heard neither as their minds raced with fear.

What was Patrick Zala going to do this time?