Chapter Four: Burn It Down

Let me in the wall you've built around

We can light a match and burn it down

Let me hold your hand and dance

Round and round the flames in front of us

Dust to dust

– The Civil Wars, "Dust to Dust"

Heero Yuy was not, by nature, a jealous man. But seeing Relena in the arms of another, however briefly, was more than enough to trip his possessive side these days.

He reminded himself to think rationally. It was only dancing, and it was part of her job; she hadn't agreed to dance with this doctor what's-his-name because she liked him or was attracted to him or anything…

Heero's eyes narrowed in on the older man currently leading Relena onto the dance floor. Her head tipped back as she laughed at something the man was whispering in her ear.

And Heero went from slightly irritated to seething.

His gaze shot over to Barton, who stood on the periphery of the dance floor, keeping a close eye on his charge. Heero trusted his second to intervene the moment the other man got too close to Relena, but then Trowa wasn't wired to respond to her the way Heero was. The other Preventer had never been married, so Heero couldn't count on him to know where he was coming from when it came to seeing other men handle his wife.

Heero had to work to slow his breathing as he continued to watch his wife with the doctor. He didn't want to watch, knowing Relena's safety was no longer his job, even if it would always be his top priority. He'd rather leave Trowa to the task; the former Heavyarms pilot was second in command of the Preventers for a reason. He was more than capable of fulfilling his bodyguard duties, even if the part-time circus performer was a bit cavalier for Heero's tastes. Then again, no one could ever take the matter of Relena's safety as seriously as Heero.

And right now, it was taking every ounce of his self-control to keep from stomping over to his wife and yanking her out of the doctor's grasp. Relena's hand was on the other man's forearm, and it was enough to have Heero seeing red.

How dare he touch her.

Heero knew nothing of this other man. He appeared to be harmless. Normal, clean-cut… boring, even. And yet this guy, who had to be at least ten years older than Heero's 29-year-old wife, was apparently showing her the time of her life.

Unconsciously, the Preventer commander's hand drifted to his side, gripping the gun he kept holstered there. His heart was beating at a rapid-fire pace, threatening to burst from his chest. The feel of his familiar weapon calmed him some, but he had to convince himself that making a scene would not be worth it. He still needed to regain Relena's trust, and that was mission critical.

Even if it killed him.

Reluctantly, Heero tore himself away from his perch on the balcony, stealing a final glance of Relena and the man who had captured her attention before heading down the stairs. As he made his descent, Heero swore he felt another piece of himself die inside, dwindling down to embers. And yet, somewhere in the ashes, in whatever was left of his heart and soul, a new fire threatened to rage...

A new song was just beginning as Relena and her distinguished-looking dance partner drifted onto the floor. Relena was grateful it was a waltz– not too fast, not too slow. The doctor took one of her hands in his and placed his other hand at her waist, careful, she noticed, not to grasp her too tightly. He kept a respectful distance that Relena immediately appreciated. She, in turn, lightly placed her free hand on his shoulder and allowed him to lead her into the familiar steps.

One-two-three… One-two-three…

The doctor was clearly talented in several areas, if his dancing prowess was any indication. He guided Relena smoothly across the floor, never missing a beat. Relena couldn't help but smile as he lifted her slightly with each turn. She was practically dancing on air...

"So, Dr. Montgomery…" She couldn't help but notice her dance partner was quite handsome, in a slightly older, professorial way.

"Please. Call me Paul," he said with a kind smile. He had kind eyes, too, although in the low lighting of the ballroom, their color was difficult to discern. Hazel, maybe…

"All right. Paul." Relena tried the name on her tongue. It was so pedestrian compared to her own name and that of so many in her inner circle. She decided she liked that about him. Simple, uncomplicated… but was he?

"So, Paul…" There was no use in beating around the bush when she was genuinely curious. "Are you married?"

"Divorced," he answered, looking and sounding much cheerier than Relena would have expected.

"Oh, I'm so sorry…" she started, but Paul was shaking his head.

"Don't be. It's a very good thing. Trust me."

Relena nodded, wondering how that could possibly be a good thing when to her it seemed the most devastating thing in all the world. Unless he truly loathed his ex-wife… She could understand that level of loathing, to an extent. But in her experience, the pain and sadness far outweighed the anger… although when it did, on occasion, rear its ugly head, it burned hotter and fiercer than any fire.

"My husband and I are separated," she blurted before she could stop herself. She realized that Heero could be watching them from somewhere, and that if he was, he would catch every word. After all, he could read lips.

Paul's mouth turned down. "I'm sorry." He squeezed her hand in his. And then it was too late for Relena to blink back the tears that sprang to her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered. She didn't know what else to say. It was all still so raw.

"Well, if you ever need to talk to someone who has survived the absolute worst of marriages, and come out the other side, still relatively intact…" Paul loosed a low chuckle. "Actually, I've been hoping to meet with you sometime to discuss something else entirely, if you wouldn't mind… I would love to pick your brain."

"Oh?" Relena's interest was piqued, and she was grateful for the distraction. "What about?"

"It's a project I've been working on… Would you care to have dinner sometime?"

Paul's directness took her aback, but he seemed genuine. "I… sure," Relena found herself saying, much to her own surprise. "Do you have a card?"

He handed it to her as the dance ended, but Relena realized she had nowhere to put it, as her wispy dress didn't come with any pockets. Paul immediately noticed her plight, and the two shared an awkward laugh as she handed the card back to him.

"Shall I just stop by your office, then?"

"Yes, that would be fine," Relena said. "How about Monday morning?"

"That would be delightful."

They parted ways with a handshake that was only slightly less awkward, and Relena floated back over to Trowa. As usual, she was hard-pressed to read his expression as he glimpsed down at her through his curtain of bangs.

"Don't even say it, Barton," she warned, planting her hands at her hips.

He didn't even blink. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"Good. I've had enough fun for one night… Can we go now?"

"Fine by me."

Trowa moved to step behind Relena, placing his hand at the small of her back. With her bodyguard on her six, Relena strode confidently toward the large, ornate set of doors that signaled her freedom.

As two uniformed door men held the doors open, Relena breathed a deep sigh of relief. Blessedly, she had managed to go the whole night avoiding the one person she didn't want to run into most, and… well. One other person. But she had been fortunate to escape an unpleasant encounter with either one of them, and meanwhile made a brilliant new acquaintance who was actually pleasant, and–

She and Trowa had barely crossed the threshold when her heart stopped.

Heero stood in the foyer, his back to them, speaking into his security headset. His low tones immediately enveloped her, and she stumbled backward. Thankfully, Trowa was there to steady her.

"Easy," he murmured. "It's fine. You're fine."

Relena nodded, coaching herself inwardly. Breathe. Breathe…

Maybe they could just slip past him, unnoticed. Trowa could be pretty stealthy, when he wanted to be, right? Relena's hopes lifted, but were instantly dashed when Heero turned around. Of course he would notice her– anywhere, always. He was just wired that way.

And as always, his gaze had her ensnared.

"Relena."

"Heero."

Saying his name was an involuntary response; the mere sound of his voice was the trigger. And clearly, he saw her accidental greeting as an invitation. Heero quickly made his way over to Relena and Trowa, reaching them in a few short strides. Relena glanced warily at her bodyguard, but Trowa showed no signs of the anxiety she felt. Meanwhile, her heart was hammering in her chest.

How was it she'd felt calmer around him when he'd had a gun pointed at her head?

"Heero, I…" She grasped for something to say, but her throat went dry.

"Can we talk?" he asked. She nearly laughed at the question. What on Earth was there left for them to talk about that they hadn't beaten to death already?

"Why now?" she asked hoarsely.

"Because," Heero said, taking another step forward. "There are things we need to discuss."

Relena held up a hand. "I have nothing more to say to you. Anything you want to discuss can be handled through our lawyers."

She was partially surprised to see Heero's pained expression. How could mere words wound him, after what he'd done to her?

"We can handle this without lawyers," he said.

"That may be," Relena countered, "but I don't want to."

She watched as Heero registered this, sorrow briefly flickering across his features, only to be replaced by that indefatigable determination Relena knew so well. "Let me take you home."

Relena shook her head to protest, but Heero was already looking past her. "Barton, you're dismissed."

Relena's mouth fell open. "You can't just do that!"

Trowa stood firm beside her. "If she doesn't want to go with you, then she's not going."

Relena could have kissed him for that. Of course she wouldn't – they were friends – but she couldn't help but admire the way he stood up for her. Defying Heero, of all the brazen–

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Heero's lips twitched, his tone full of snark. "I'm your boss. You can't refuse my orders."

Trowa gave Heero a smirk of his own. "I think I just did."

It was jarring to see the two brothers in arms argue over anything, let alone her. But Relena took that as her cue to finally make her exit. Which would be much easier to do, now that the foyer was filling up with other guests heading out into the night. Knowing Heero wanted to keep from making a scene as much as she did, Relena moved to sidestep him.

But as she brushed past him, his hand darted out and snatched her arm. Relena's eyes snapped to his.

"Heero!" she cried, trying to wrench her arm away. But he held on, his grip tight enough to hurt her. Relena could feel Trowa tense behind her, as if he were about to spring into action.

"Let her go, Yuy," he warned, his voice full of ice.

Heero dropped her arm, and Relena scurried past him. She had every intention of avoiding his eyes, but then she couldn't resist glimpsing his face as she passed by him. She immediately wished she hadn't. He had a haunted look about him, his eyes wilder than she had ever seen them. For the first time in a long time, she was legitimately concerned he might do something crazy.

"Relena, please…" Heero's voice was a shattered whisper, but she could still hear it over all of the other voices in the room. "Don't do this."

Relena paused her steps just long enough to look at him over her shoulder, summoning up what remaining gumption she had.

His gaze softened, his eyes showing a glimmer of hope. "Relena…"

She shook her head briskly. "It's too late, Heero… I'm done." Her voice was broken, but she forced the words out anyway. "We're done."

Heero's jaw clenched. "You want to throw away fifteen years? Just like that?"

His words were a fresh slap in the face, but Relena found herself laughing through her tears.

"You already did," she said. And then she turned on her heel and sauntered out of the foyer, her new bodyguard following closely behind.

A/N: Ouch, amirite? So whose side are you on so far in this new "civil war"?

Happy Friyay, friends! I know I said I was planning to stick to Monday updates, but I couldn't resist posting a bonus chapter today. You guys have been so awesome with your feedback and I'm truly grateful. I do hope you'll enjoy this story as much as Civil Wars, if not more so!

Speaking of Civil Wars... the band of the same name has heavily inspired the fic with its namesake, this fic, as well as the one-shot The One That Got Away. If you are not familiar with the band, I highly recommend looking them up and listening to their catalog as you read this story, or any of the others I've mentioned above... or any of my fics, really. Their work has heavily inspired me over the past four, five years, which is also around when I started becoming more active on here.

For those of you who are interested, I've created a playlist just for this story on Spotify. I'll link it below, but since FF is mean with links, you can also find it by adding me on Spotify (Erin Dale Darling) and following my playlist, Poison & Wine.

open . spotify dot com / playlist / 655SXttQBVQ6PAF3vDJ1zB

ALSO, if you haven't read CW or that one-shot, I consider them supplemental reading to this story, but they are essentially all different timelines within the same universe. In fact, I came across a line in CW that sums up the world of P&W really well:

"... Heero knew a lot of that was his fault. But then he'd never been great at communicating in general. Maybe if he'd been better... they might have been able to avoid getting divorced in the first place."

Do with that what you will :)

Hugs and happy weekend!

- RFP