The Fragile (Album Fic) by Jiyurii

Heero lay spread-eagled on his bed. He had not bothered to take off the bloody sheets, or to clean his bloody hands, for that matter. The entire room was a shambles; after Relena left and Heero was able to regain his feet, he had knocked down, broken, and ripped apart everything within reach. Now he lay amidst the chaos, trying to think about what came next.

~did you happen to catch
or did it happen so fast
what you thought would always last
has passed you by~

So I've finally done it. I've driven away the one person who loved me no matter what.

SHUT UP! Kami, the voices. They tormented him all the time now, had been endlessly chattering ever since he'd awakened to find Relena in the bathroom. They did not, however, offer their opinions as to what Heero needed to do now. He had heard Duo pull into the drive about an hour ago and storm upstairs to the apartments Trowa and Quatre shared. He had thought he was in for a fight, but was mildly surprised when he'd heard the baka's motorcycle screaming back into the night. He assumed Duo was headed to Relena's house. He was not angry; in fact, he did not feel much of anything at the moment. He had regained his legendary Perfect Soldier composure; the empty bottle of Jack on the floor beside the bed had done its part as well.

~is everything speeding up
or am i slowing down
just spinning around
and i don't know why~

Bullshit. Heero Yuy does not run, not even from the vaunted and ever-popular God of Death. He fully expected Maxwell to be returning shortly with a thirst for his blood, but he knew he could hold his own and better against the smaller boy. It had been three years since any of the boys had needed to regularly fit into the cockpit of a mobile suit or fight any enemies; although they still maintained their bodies as best they could, only Heero did any more steady terrorist work, and that was mostly small-time bombings and hacking. All of them had grown taller and more bulky; Trowa was the tallest, but Heero massed more than any of the boys. And Duo was smallest second only to Quatre. No, Heero was not afraid of Shinigami-sama. Of course, when the braided boy brought that trademark Duo Maxwell energy to bear, combined with his hotheadedness, he could be a formidable opponent. But Heero had had more formal and prolonged training, along with the ability to completely void himself of all emotion, and he knew he would have the advantage in a hand-to-hand fight.

~all the pieces don't fit
but i really didn't give a shit
i never wanted to be like you~

Even so, Heero did not want to fight Maxwell; any further display of temper would be enough to keep Relena away for good.

"Please," Heero moaned aloud. Why do the voices trouble me now? I thought I had silenced them after--

Once again, thoughts of Mieko filled his mind. So beautiful...such a brilliant warrior...

But there was the fact; it could not be denied. Mieko had left him, and Relena had left him, and in both cases he was the cause. In different ways, certainly; Heero would never have dared to lay a hand on Mieko, not in any of the ways that he had touched Relena.

Still, it was the same. He'd only wanted to put an end to his continuous fighting, to live in peace with the woman he loved, and in both cases he had wrecked it beyond repair.

::but you can still get Relena back...Mieko is lost forever, but there is still hope for Relena::

A corner of Heero's mouth turned upward in a small smile. Yes, there was always a chance with Relena...she was weak, far weaker than Mieko. Her love for him made her weak. It had been an impediment to him in the past, but now it would work to his advantage.

~but for all i aspire
i am really a liar
and i'm running out of things i can do~

Perhaps there was some merit to that after all. Easy enough to go to L1, to where he had grown up, and put a stop to the missions. Dr. J was long dead, killed by a terrorist organization, and Heero had avenged the murder, but there were others there who still felt hatred for the Earthlings. Easy enough to put a stop to that, one way or another. And he could visit the dojo, gain some closure. While he was gone, Duo's temper would abate, Relena would miss him. Quatre would work to soothe the hurt feelings, not because Heero would ask him to but because it was what he did. And when Heero returned, everything would be all right.

I've almost killed her plenty of times and she still loves me. She loved me when she knew I had to kill her.

Heero shook his head violently. Arguing with himself was getting him nowhere. He had to act fast, before Maxwell came back and started some trouble. He pulled himself off the bed, nearly falling backward; it seemed an entire bottle of whiskey affected even the most perfect of soldiers. Staggering to his feet, Heero made his way to the closet, where a duffel bag waited, already packed in case of emergency. It took a moment to find his laptop, thrown carelessly under the bed and miraculously not broken. He started to pull it toward him, but his hand caught on something sharp. He felt blood, this time his own.

Pulling his hand back sharply, he examined it and found a sliver of glass embedded in the palm.

Wonder where that came from... Pressing his hand against his shirt to stop the bleeding, Heero lay next to the bed and felt around underneath it with the other hand. He encountered more glass, wood, a slippery surface that could only be a photograph. He gingerly brought the remains of the picture frame out into the dim light and gazed into Relena's upturned face.

~pleading and
needing and
bleeding and
breeding and
feeding
exceeding
where is everybody?~

She was sitting on the beach outside Quatre's house. The picture had been taken at sunset, and the dying sunlight gave her honey-blonde hair lustrous red highlights and brought a shy blush to her cheeks. Her arms rested on her folded knees, and she stared out wistfully over the ocean. Heero remembered that day well; Relena had been wearing a white sundress, and he had thought she had never looked so pretty. They had picnicked on the beach that afternoon, meaning to stay only an hour or so but ending up leaving after dark. They had stayed up all night talking; in those days there had been no nightmares to trouble him, no voices to disturb his happiness with Relena.

Still crying, Heero took the picture out of the ruined frame, wiped the tears off it as well as he could, and placed it inside the duffel. He shouldered the duffel, picked up his laptop, and made for the door. Before he opened it, he took a last look at the room. It was a shambles; he had not noticed the extent of the damage before.

If I want to be allowed back into this house, he thought with a chuckle, I'd better do something about this mess.

Heero silenced the voice, put down his gear, and walked toward the mess. Quatre would have a fit if he saw the room like this.

~well okay, enough
you've had your fun
but come on there has got to be someone
that hasn't yet become
so numb
and succumb~

Relena stood at her bedroom window, staring out at the moon. She had finally allowed her servants to help her bathe and change into a simple white nightgown, and to give her two sleeping pills which were turning out to be totally ineffectual. Her head ached, her heart ached, and she was lonelier than she had been since the death of her father.

~and
god damn i am so tired of pretending
wishing i was ending
when all i'm really doing is trying to hide~

She could not stop mentally reviewing the night's events, which now seemed so distant as to never have happened. Even her fight with Duo seemed to have happened to someone else. How could I drive Duo away like that? He was only trying to help...and now he'll probably go home and do something to Heero.

Not that Heero didn't deserve something for what he had done to her. Not just for the beatings, but for making her believe he had cared for her. Yet she could not stop thinking about the boy. His unruly mop of brown hair, his muscular frame, his broad shoulders and tight behind, his eyes, dark and deep as the ocean they both loved...his strong hands...

Relena sighed and placed a hand to her heart, but winced with pain as she encountered yet another bruise. She felt like crying again. That beautifully messy hair had dripped sweat into her eyes; that muscular frame had shaken and spasmed with exertion as Heero forced himself into her again and again, had collapsed atop her when its work was done, crushing her; those unnaturally strong hands had held her wrists tight, to keep her still; and those eyes...those eyes had held not a trace of any human emotion. The worst part had been his eyes. Relena knew that they were not the eyes of the Heero Yuy with whom she had shared a bed, the Heero who had loved her...the Heero she still loved. They had been the eyes of the long-ago boy who had ripped a birthday party invitation to shreds and threatened to kill her.

Tired beyond belief, the blonde girl collapsed onto the bed and sobbed like a child. From time to time, her eyes strayed to the telephone on the table at the head of the bed.

Once again, Heero stood at the door and looked back on his handiwork. The once-disastrous room now passed his inspection, which meant that it was immaculate; ever the perfectionist, Heero had erased all traces of the violence that had taken place earlier in the evening. He bent to pick up his duffel and laptop, and his eyes strayed to the small table under the window, where three freshly repotted bonsai trees stretched their miniature branches skyward. Heero's heart wrenched, reminded of the sweet girl who had placed them there.

~pleading and
needing and
bleeding and
breeding and
feeding
exceeding
where is everybody?~

Heero rummaged in the drawers of the small bedside table until he found a pen and paper. Koishii, he began, and then scribbled the word out--he'd slipped and begun writing in hiragana. She'd never understand that, and only Wu Fei would be able to translate for her.

I know I can never ask for your forgiveness for the terrible things I have done to you. I can never repay your kindness toward me, or ask you to give me yet another chance. In our long acquaintance, we have encountered many obstacles and overcome them all together. But the obstacle that faces us now is of my own making, and I must overcome it myself. I cannot ask you to help me. You know all about my time as a Gundam pilot, and you know of the training that enabled me to become worthy of that machine. You also know the reasons I once swore to kill you. But there are things I have done that are worse than all these, and I must face and atone for them before I can be worthy of your love. I can only hope that, when I return here, you will still feel something for me besides complete revulsion.
Please believe me-I never meant to hurt you the way I have, and I am truly sorry. I will return when I can stand before you free of all ties to my past.

He left the note on the table holding the bonsai trees. After writing another note to Quatre explaining that he was leaving and would be back as soon as possible and asking the rest of the boys not to try to find him, he headed toward the door again. As he walked, he heard noises coming up the stairs: loud footsteps, and sounds which could only be made by an angry male looking for a fight.

Heero sighed. I didn't want it to come to this. But there was nothing for it now but to stand and fight. He dropped his gear on the bed and walked confidently toward the door. The noises were right outside now.

Heero opened the door to find Duo standing there, still streaked with the remains of silver makeup, eyes blazing violet fire. Quatre held his left arm, attempting to restrain the slightly taller boy but not succeeding; Trowa and Wu Fei stood behind, ready to put a stop to any trouble. Duo looked up into Heero's face and grinned his Shinigami grin.