That night he had a dream.
No, not a dream. The dream, the recurring nightmare that started the day Dearka went MIA.
Each of his comrades would appear out of the debris, leaving scathing remarks, blaming him for their death. Why, they would ask. Why did they die? Why was he still alive?
Why didn't he help them?
And those voices would leave another fresh cut in his already torn soul.
He knew that the nightmare was his own fault; it was his sorrow, his anger, his guilt that forced him to relive his loss almost every day. He knew that his comrades would never blame him the way their ghosts did, and that they would never torment him for surviving. They would have been happy that he, at least, was alive. That was the kind of people they were.
If he'd learned anything through the war, it was that the supernatural was nothing to fear. The living, the ones in flesh and bone –those were the ones to be truly afraid of.
Like Shiho. Like himself.
Yzak turned over in his bed for the millionth time that night, trying to quell the shadows of his past. Then, suddenly, another voice joined the chorus of his friends.
"Don't worry, Joule. I'm scared of you too."
Those brilliant, empty, purple eyes.
"Fuck it all."
He spat out into the coldness around him, and buried his head in his hands. For a second, he could have sworn they were covered in blood. He scoffed at himself. He could sense insanity only an arm's length away.
Before he knew it, he was running out his door, trying to escape from the oppressive white walls of his room.
xoxox
He wandered to the very back of the ship, in front of the door that led into the back deck. That was his usual "spot"; he'd lost count of the nights he spent looking out into space through the huge windows, unable to face the demons in his dreams.
The door slid open, and he saw a shadow against the windows. He frowned and checked the clock. It was 2:57 AM. The only people up were those on duty, who had no business in the back deck as far as he was concerned.
His frown deepened when he realized that the shadow was Shiho Hahnenfuss.
He knew that it was probably in his best interest to turn around and leave. He did not need another face off with Shiho, not after what happened in the cafeteria. But some invisible force sucked him into the room.
"What the fuck are you doing here so late, Hahnenfuss?"
He inquired, expecting some kind of sharp response from her. She merely looked back at him in silence. The backlight hid her expression from him.
"What, you can't even think of some smartass reply? What's gotten to your head?"
"Shut the fuck up, Joule, or I swear I will eliminate your very fucking existence from this universe."
He scowled even more, which he himself did not even think possible. Her words sounded like her alright, but her tone was nothing like what he was used to. It was much softer and raspy, and it almost sounded weak. Vulnerable.
He took a few steps towards her, unable to identify the unsettling feeling in the bottom of his stomach.
"Go away."
Her whisper almost disappeared into the cold emptiness.
"Hahnenfuss, what is wrong with you?"
"Nothing. Get out of my sight right now if you want to sleep in peace tonight."
He shuddered at her words. Sleep in peace. Athrun's pained voice over the MS intercom announcing that Rusty was KIA. The Strike's sword slicing into the cockpit of the Blitz. The impact he felt, even inside the Duel, as both the Aegis and the Strike exploded and burst into flames. The panic and despair as he realized he had lost all communication with the Buster. If sleeping meant reliving those moments again, then sleep be damned.
He scoffed and took a few more steps. Shiho was going to have to think of a better threat than that.
"You still didn't answer my question. What the fuck are you doing here?"
He was being uncharacteristically calm, and it confused him. Apparently Shiho found it strange, too, and looked at him with an incredulous expression.
"What the fuck are you doing here? And when did you learn to be so patient? It's scaring me."
His brain did not comprehend the words as well as it comprehended the tear stains down her cheeks.
She had been crying. The realization hit him hard. Shiho Hahnenfuss could cry. As much as the fire in her eyes invoked terror and hatred in him, he never realized that there was another person behind it. Violently angry, but also hurt and scared inside -very much like himself.
He suddenly felt as though he was meeting Shiho Hahnenfuss for the first time.
"What's wrong?"
Shiho widened her eyes, and he cursed himself inside. It was uncharacteristic of him, he knew, but he was not quite as heartless as most people considered him to be. Or was he merely trying to comfort his reflection inside her? He did not know.
"I didn't think you capable of a heart."
Her voice lacked the usual venom or the spirit, and her gaze was more grudging than angry.
"I didn't think you capable of crying."
She glared at him defensively, but she tore her gaze away and looked back outside the windows.
"I don't have the energy to argue with you right now. Just get the fuck out and leave me alone."
He ignored her and sat down on the floor, his back against the window. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he heard her whisper.
"Joule, I hate you."
"I figured. I hate you too."
He saw Shiho slump onto the floor somewhere in his peripheral.
"How did we get here?"
I'd like to know, he thought.
Just to clarify, Yzak remembers the moment when Athrun blew up the Aegis rather than when he actually went AWOL, because that was the more traumatic moment for him.