A/N: I encourage you once again not to read this unless the first part of my story had you incredibly lost…

The blonde took his partner's hand, opened the door, led him inside.

The TV had been left on, but suddenly all outside noises were unimportant.

"…where a new virus has been manufactured for the past seven days…"

A pair of strong, tanned arms wrapped themselves around Yzak's midsection from behind, and the two ZAFT soldiers stayed like that, one mass of comfort and contentment in the dark apartment. The only glow came from the blurry screen of the ancient television.

"…and is said to have a negative effect, acting as a poison in Coordinators especially despite their—"

"Dearka." The paler youth spoke to the face that nuzzled his neck.

"Hmm?"

"Though slow moving and fairly painless in fifty percent of cases, small amounts are fatal and may be thought to…"

The silver haired youth didn't finish his inquiry. His voice caught in his throat, and he doubled over. The transformation was abrupt and frightening, and Dearka froze, cursing aloud.

"Yzak! Are you all right?" He knelt by his friend's side and gripped him roughly by the shoulders.

"…take you now live to the scene where the majority of the crimes have been taking place. A restaurant known as L'ombre Bleue was just minutes ago—"

"Yzak!"

The pale youth brought a trembling hand to his head, raking his fingers through his reams of silver hair in agony. And then he stood up.

"God damn it. Will you calm down, Elsman? I'm fine."

The blonde had begun to turn pale. "But…"

"I swear, that stupid Natural waitress put something rotten in our food. Now my head hurts." Ice blue eyes were squinted shut in a desperate attempt to block out all surrounding light and motion. "Will you turn off that damned television already?"

"…thanks to an undercover representative from Orb Union, who said he saw the pair and claims that at least one of them was aware of the dire situation."

Ice blues eyes slid open again. "Dearka?" He blinked when he received no answer.

The blonde was sprawled carelessly across the living room rug.

And suddenly Yzak's own head was throbbing, and he found himself sinking to his knees next to his limp companion. His legs had betrayed him without reason, and a new, more furious pounding inside his skull threatened to burst through his braincase and leave him unconscious.

"Fight it, Yzak," came a command that reached the silver-haired male from a realm that seemed too far away to be real. Then, "That Blue Cosmos bitch…"

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

"Police forces are on their way to find the two victims, while those involved at L'ombre Bleue are arrested…"

Dearka sputtered a muddled sentence, struggled with his ebbing strength to force out a message. He failed. Yzak was struck with a sudden sense of foreboding.

The blonde writhed on the floor, limbs thrashing about in a grotesque dance. At once a comprehending cloud of simultaneous fury and defeat pasted itself onto Yzak's features, and he let out a fraught shriek of rage while his weakening body folded in on itself. He collapsed beside his friend and lover.

"...is with us from the University to discuss the effect of the virus specifically on Coordinators. Mr. Remus, what constitutes the amount of damage a heavy dosage can do to its victims?"

"Well, typically that depends on the strength of the Coordinator and the exact amount of the poison he or she has taken in…"

A veil of heavy black. Yzak's breathing was coming out in ragged gasps, and soon sirens eclipsed the low murmur of the television in the background. The apartment door was bursting open. Men in heavy boots were pouring into the house. Three men in white coats were hovering like angels that brought tidings of death soon to come. He couldn't see. He couldn't breathe.

"Move out of the way. I said to make way!"

Voices screeching harsh commands. Yzak Joule tried to shift position, but his limbs were heavy like cement.

"They did this… She did this, that Blue Cosmos bitch!"

The lips of the silver-haired youth turned up in a vague, weakened smile. Dearka had said the very same thing just moments ago. His smile turned into a grimace of pain, and as lights flashed and sirens wailed dreadful dirges, the young pilot wondered why he was amused.

"Look at them – look at how young they are! They're practically still children."

"I'll have to ask you to move, Mr. Representative. We can take it from here."

Yzak fought to form words. Darkness threatened him at every attempt he made to move.

"Well, this one's alive." A hand had placed itself carefully over the pale youth's feverish brow.

"The other one knew it was too late once his friend started eating. He didn't want to let his friend suffer alone. So he ate the food too. Then he purposely finished his friend's plate to try to take the brunt of the damage himself. The blonde one – is the blonde one still alive?"

Yzak struggled to decipher the loud, angry words. He didn't know what they were talking about. He didn't know whether he would live or die. And where was Dearka? Was Dearka still alive?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Representative… he's already dead."

A/N: Eh, like I said… this extra bit doesn't do much.