Chapter 13

Heat

By EvilBunny

Relena stepped down off the porch. Finally there weren't any more walls. The night contained no more sinister noise than an occasional owl hunting for mice. No heavy tramp of soldiers sent her into a cold sweat, no noises from beyond her stone prison to make her shudder.

Quickly she took the fifteen paces that would usually bring her from one side of her garden to the other, and just as rapidly continued on. Still no wall and here was a small path that she couldn't even see the end of, that continued out before her in infinite freedom, winding through the darkened forest. She was free, she could run.

Her feet completed that thought almost before she was aware she'd made it. The night didn't fill with shouts, she didn't feel the sights of sniper guns on her back. Branches and leaves surrounded her, slapped at her, but she concentrated her entire being on running, and the pure sense of space all around her. No walls, no prison, no guards. She could run for as long as her traitorous body allowed without the fear or pursuit, without the careful marshalling of resources.

Which, she quickly discovered, wasn't going to be very far. Already her muscles were beginning to burn, and her lungs couldn't seem to get enough air. She wasn't running from anything, or to anywhere. She didn't have any adrenaline to feed off of, pumped through a body whose mind was frozen by fear. She could stop anytime, without consequence, without worry. The very idea was like a drug and sung through the air, warming her.

Relena gave herself over to the sensation of running through the forest, the quilt warm in her arms, feeling every twig under her feet and relishing the novelty of a path whose twists she didn't know by heart. Everything here was new and fresh and untainted. There was an entire world around her, a world that she'd could reach out and touch. She'd begun to wonder if it really existed, and here it was, all hers.

The path she followed suddenly let out into a small clearing and she spun to a stop, gasping for air. She stared blindly at the sky, breathing in the night, feeling the flush of exertion, not caring about anything other than the ability to run in something other than circle, letting her mind go blank as the night air breathed around her.

She dug her toes further into the dirt beneath her, the long, wild grass hiding past her knees. She could feel the rough edges tickling against her thighs, grass unlike the weeds she knew. This was heaven. If she could just put down roots, she'd stay here forever, never feeling anything but peace.

But there were other clearings, other runs. She didn't need to wish for the escape of something even farther from human, she was safe already.

Relena bent and retrieved the quilt where she'd abandoned it at her feet. He was back at the house, probably warm and asleep. She wanted to just crawl into bed with him, let him touch away her nightmares. Just as well she was too far away to chance it, he'd never let her past the door. She itched to glide her fingers along his skin, map his presence in touch. Any moment he could be gone. But he'd stayed with her, so maybe, maybe tomorrow she'd reach out and he'd still be there. Maybe tomorrow she would be brave enough.

With dreams of tomorrow Relena set off to the oldest tree in the grove, settling into the familiar embrace of roots and trunk, finding the added warmth and comfort of the old quilt blissful, if somewhat more awkward than expected.

Her wings seemed to cocoon her, and the silence of her surroundings did what she'd hardly believed possible after so many changes, and lulled her to sleep.

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She ran further and further through deeper and darker woods, and in complete silence. Leaves of every shape hemmed her in along her narrow path, impenetrable masses, each branch blown as if by a different wind. They did not rustle, just a never-ceasing movement that ran along the sides of her vision while she focused on the ground before her, flickering distractedly when she tried to think, tried to remember.

The path went on before, seeming to appear anew each moment, and sometimes turning in on itself so quickly that she barely had time to change direction, half running into the frantically shifting leaves, but never slowing, she couldn't, couldn't.

Her breath rasped in her lungs, but she couldn't hear it. Her pounding feet hit the earth with every step, but she could just as easily be treading on air for all the sound it generated. Even her uneven heartbeat, which throbbed in her ears and chest seemed to be only a sensation, not a noise.

She ran. Not faster or slower, just running past leaves which seemed to have gone mad, more black than green. Running not as if her life depended on it, but as if this was her life.

But one leaf was silver. She saw it as she ran by, caught by the flash of bright amidst so much dark, and time seemed to slow as she took in every vein, each fine toothed edge, all perfect metal that bent in the wind as easily as its organic compatriots. Then running.

But now more silver appeared along her way, making it impossible to concentrate solely on her feet. The veins of a leaf here, the edging of that branch there and occasionally even one tree that stood completely silver in the unfamiliar light. Even the mulch under her feet seemed to have the rare hint of metal, growing hard beneath bare feet. The silent wind picked up and Relena made yet another turn.

Maelstrom of silver, every branch, every leaf hung with pure metal and whipped around with storms in the oppressive silence. She ran through it all, faster, and now the leaves reached out, crossed her path.

She felt the first branch that struck, a scored line across her cheek, leaving a kiss of fire behind it. She could feel heat trickling down from the wound, hot blood that pumped in time with her heart and her pace, but she didn't have time to stop, or even to slow enough to wipe away the damage.

After the first one, she lost count immediately, the storm engulfed her, consumed her. Legs, arms, stomach, face, nothing seemed protected. She could even feel her feet, cut to ribbons, all in the peaceful silence, with no telltale whine through the air, or rasp of metal as it slid through flesh.

So she ran faster. The forest on either side whipped by, sped faster. She stood back in the van and the leaves outside the window rushed by, back to their glossy green. Still silver surrounded her, beat at her, cut at her. Burnt at her. Begged her to come back to them.

Instead of leaves, her soft wings had become metal, hard, unforgiving. The scenery flashed by, but she couldn't hear anything, no engine, no gravel, and as she tried to catch the feathers that the rough road threw about her, tried to control them, they continued to cut her hands, to flay her face. Each cut added to the suffocating heat, the heavy silence. Razor edged she couldn't bear to touch them, and could only cover her face as they fought around her in an inferno.

The sky was lighter, and sound rushed in around her, comfort hidden in the thousands of little noises that hid unnoticed until they abandoned you. The return of the world stunned her, and all she could think of in those first moments of wakefulness was how very much lighter the clearing had become. Dawn must be on its way.

She was still too hot and her skin felt tight, as if it no longer fit right. She was wound up in a quilt, sweat soaked, her wings flung out around her while she sat curled up against the tree as if seeking protection. But this wasn't one of her trees. Not one of the familiar friends who had protected her when she dragged herself weeping to its silent embrace. Where was she?

Relena felt a strange lack of urgency in this question. There wasn't any threat, she knew that somehow she was safe, even though nothing around her seemed at all familiar. Perhaps it was that very unfamiliarity that comforted her.

She'd woken up in strange rooms before, with new scars and no memories, but all those rooms looked alike. All had the same white walls, threatening mirrors, and that smell of disinfectant and blood.

Likewise she'd found herself back in her garden, drenched in sweat and shaking, face down in the dirt as if thrown with wrists rubbed raw from an unrecalled struggle, but she'd never awoken outside, somewhere new, and carefully wrapped to keep warm.

As the dream slowly began to fade, the sharp trills of birdsong broke through the clearing. Relena sat and listened to them before slowly beginning to unwind the quilt around her. Somehow she'd managed to wrap it entirely around herself while she slept, and removing it seemed to involved more twisting on her part than usual.

She smiled while the birds continued to sing away, uninterrupted and unabashed in their expression of joy in the morning. She had something to be thankful for too, Heero was waiting for her. He had stayed with her. She had to return to him.

The wind pushed through the treetops, weaving the leaves in patterns that the old trunk behind her protected her from. He was waiting, and her dreams were just nightmares that she could dismiss.

She stood a little unsteadily. The air still seemed too warm, and even the soft pre-dawn light a little too bright. The faint wind, nothing like the gale from her night of running, ruffled her hair, but didn't seem to bring any coolness.

She took a faltering step forward, nearly tripping herself in the quilt that still clung to her ankles. She just couldn't seem to balance her wings right and the base of them itched fiercely, in the one spot she knew she couldn't reach.

Her unrefreshing sleep had left a thick taste in her mouth that she couldn't seem to get rid of. All she wanted was a glass of water and somewhere comfortable to curl up where she could watch Heero as she drank. She didn't care what he was doing, she still didn't know how long he would be here and she had to store up as many sights of him as she could.

Relena took a moment to find the path she'd come in along and then waded carefully towards it. The deep grass tickled, and Relena felt an unfamiliar smile tugging at her lips as she picked her way delicately across.

It wasn't until she stepped into the darker shadows, nearly under the closely packed trees that she caught sight of him.

Heero sat with his back against the trunk, legs out in front of him, arms folded carefully across his chest and his eyes shut. He must have followed her out, guarding her while she slept. Even in repose he looked ready for action.

A twig snapped loudly under her foot and Relena froze, guilty at waking him. But Heero didn't move. His chest still gently rose with each breath. He couldn't be dead, and he didn't look sick, but he should have woken at her incautious step. He should have woken up the moment she'd stirred from her spot; there was no way she should have been able to get so close to him without his knowledge. Either something was very, very wrong…or he was faking.

Why he was faking didn't matter, just that she'd caught him at it. And she was going to make sure he knew that she'd found out.

The smile she'd lost when he hadn't opened his eyes now returned full force, with an impish hint that was enough to have made anyone nervous, if anyone was watching. Surrounded by birdsong and the early morning breeze, Relena felt a mischievous glimmer that she hardly recognized, from before the nightmares, begin to unfurl.

She crossed the last two steps towards him lightly, just that little bit off the path, now being careful to avoid any noisy sticks. Gracefully she leaned towards him. Well, she meant to lean, but again her wings unbalanced her and she fell awkwardly to her knees, her hands barely catching her in time.

She rebalanced quickly, but the jar still rattled through her oddly. A quick look at Heero showed his face as calm as ever, nothing so much as twitched. He hadn't stirred, hadn't sighed or even shifted since she'd caught sight of him. He could just as well have marble for flesh.

If he had really been asleep, her falling down right beside him should certainly have woken him up. Gingerly she leaned closer, expecting his eyes to shoot open at any moment, but they remained resolutely closed. Perhaps staring wouldn't be sufficient.

Relena gave a quiet sigh of confusion and watched as her breath moved his bangs just a little, those messy brown bangs that she wanted to run her fingers through. She blew again. Still nothing. With a smothered giggle she scooted closer still, where she was almost touching him, her wings shadowing them both and let out a soft breath along his cheek. She traced her warm breath down his neck, her mouth barely an inch away from him, her hair falling down over her face to tickle along his collarbone. Surely he'd have to look.

No response. Maybe he really was asleep. She hadn't caught so much as an eyelid flicker. Maybe he slept heavier than she'd assumed. She took another, closer look at his face, her nose almost touching his. Maybe he really did sleep like a motionless statue.

She felt a little silly now at her error; he'd fallen asleep out here, watching over her, instead of warm in his bed because she'd wanted to be outdoors. Not like the woods had done her any good. The nightmares had been as bad as always, and if anything she felt more exhausted now than when she'd first curled up against the tree, the unsettling feelings from the dream still curling around her.

She could just as well have stayed in the cabin and he wouldn't have had to fall asleep outside in what looked like a rather uncomfortable position. He'd obviously followed her out, had possibly been here the whole time. From this spot she could just see the tree that she'd fallen asleep against across the clearing. He would have had a perfect view to keep watch. She should have known he wouldn't let her out of his protection that easily.

He had to be cold too. She still felt overheated, but surely a quilt would have done him some good. He shouldn't be sleeping without any comfort at all, not because of her.

She wouldn't have dared even offer her quilt to him if he'd been awake, but asleep he seemed just that little bit more approachable. Quickly, before she could think about it, she pressed a swift kiss to his lips, softly, a sort of thank you for looking after her even when she didn't know he was there.

It was just for a second, and then she quickly scrambled to her feet. She might never get another chance quite like that, and she felt almost giddy at her own audacity. He'd slept through all the rest, hopefully he's just sleep through that too.

She'd actually taken a step away to retrieve the quilt when she felt his hand close around her wrist in a grip that froze every muscle in her body, except for her heart which seemed to be single handedly trying to make up for the immobility of the rest of her. She thought she might have a heart-attack right there.

His hand seemed to burn and she knew her face must be bright pink. He'd woken up. And now, now he was going to kill her.

Maybe he hadn't noticed her kiss.

Relena stayed motionless, like a bird that refuses to move in the hope of invisibility, but the sound of her name drew her around, almost against her will yet powerless to resist. She turned on her heels, using the hand that still branded her as a pivot and the sight of him made her blush even deeper.

Not only was it obvious he'd noticed, but also that he'd truly been awake the entire time. What would he think of her now? She'd just waltzed in, uninvited, and…and she had no idea what he was going to do.

His face held an unreadable intensity and Relena shivered at the dark, unrecognizable look in his eyes. She shouldn't have presumed and now he was standing up and he'd leave her and he was standing up and all coherent thought stopped as his lips came slanting down on her own.

His kiss was desperation and sweetness, an almost bruising force that came unexpectedly but to which she reacted with a frightening instantaneousity.

The hand that didn't hold her wrist came up to brush her check as he seemed to devour her, his tongue hungry and possessive. She was on fire and he fed the flames, every touch white hot as she moaned and wrapped both arms around his neck and he buried his fingers in her hair and tilted her face even farther back.

No, she was ice, and he burned with that sharp cold that seems hotter than heat, that tingles and dissolves but doesn't leave a mark though you come out gasping as his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her to him where she molded and melted against him.

His hand traveled up her back, splaying out against her spine above the cut in her dress and she was sure it would leave a handprint on her skin, burnt there by his touch and she let out a gasp, but she couldn't seem to think as he started to follow her jawline with quick, burning tastes and all she could do was breath in soft, gasping sounds and dig her nails into his shoulder.

It wasn't until his hands reached the base of her wings that she realized something was wrong. Suddenly the fire, the burning in her broke loose as a thousand needles struggled to get out from under her skin. She forgot his arms, his lips, even him as the pain suddenly revealed itself in every muscle and she screamed as the world dissolved around her.