A.N. This is my first angst fic. Be prepared for some death and some blood (although I tried to best tasteful about it). The plot kinda jumps around a lot, so don’t try to get caught up in the technicalities, ‘cause it all has very "stream of consciousness"-like feel. Basically, a rebel group has captured Relena, and the Preventers and Heero are trying to find her. The story is in two partsà one from Relena's view and then a later one from Heero's. Alrighty, well then, I hope you like it, or rather, I hope you’re ready to be depressed.

With eyes closed, she rested her forehead in her hands. Breathing out lightly, she gently lifted her swan neck and opened her glowing eyes to the approaching dawn.

Licking her lips, she stared vacantly at the washed white walls around her, listening as each breath echoed softly throughout the hollowness of the room.

She knew this was going to happen. She just knew it. But now that she had assessed the situation, every possible escape, the chance of one small miracle, she had accepted her fate. And she found herself surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances.

They had not thrown her into a small, dank cell. They has not bullied her or hurt her. Treating her like an important package, they had handled her with gentle care. They were considerate kidnappers.

So now she sat in a noble position, chin up and back straight, staring placidly at the soft white curtains blowing lightly in the passing breeze. She absentmindedly stroked the arm of the hard oak chair and waited.

She knew what was going to happen. Her captors did not want to use her as ransom. They did not want her to be their new leader, or their figurehead. They wanted an end to peace and a reason for war. They wanted to kill her. They were only waiting for the right time to do it.

They were going to kill her soon. From the whispers and footsteps that echoed from behind the heavy door that kept her hidden, Relena Darlian knew things were heating up. She had heard the muffled warnings of "Preventers" and knew that the closer the protective organization came to finding her, the closer they would write her death wish.

With her death, the era of peace would end as violently as it was first achieved. She wondered if she had accomplished anything at all during her short life span. But smiling to herself, Relena remembered the answer to her question. Maybe she couldn’t change the world, but she was fairly sure she had changed one man. And for that, she felt content.

When the rushed footsteps came, along with the rebel soldiers and their guns, bursting through the door with nervous determination, she fell into a dream. Everything she saw was a motion, all of the noises around her grew far away. Her legs lost their feeling and she was flying, her weight supported by two of the soldiers as they carried her towards her ultimate fate. She was dizzied as she flowed through the shadowed halls, the features of everyone around her melting away.

But then, everything stopped. She began to focus on one thing. Blurred at first, it grew closer and became clearer. It was a face, a warm and caring face. And the eyes, the eyes. They were rich in midnight and full of stars. They held truth and beauty and they told her to let go. And so she jumped and flew away from everyone below her. Then, just as she was flying, she began falling, but she was not afraid. She fell into the arms of the pure, blue-eyed one. And she smiled as Heero brought her close to him. She knew he was holding her because he wanted to, because she was the one he wanted, and because he never wanted to let go. "Finally it's all over," she breathed, as she became lost in his embrace. "Finally and forever..."

No witnesses in the room could quite believe the sight before them. There were no screams, nor tears. Just silence. Relena Darlian was smiling as a noose was slipped around her delicate neck; the chair supporting her kicked away.

Blood…it has such a defined taste, like plastic mixed with unfiltered water. And he could feel it draining slowly out of him.

Sucking the air in and out, living, breathing, it's all such a chore.

A thought came to his mind, "Why am I still here?"

It's a funny feeling…waiting for one's own death. It's like a dream, memories suddenly presenting themselves from somewhere in the unconscious. The past comes alive, while the world melts into dizziness, circling and fading. But the mind stays focused, sharp, knowing.

He could get up if he wanted to. Right now, he could stand up and walk away. But did he want to do that? He didn't know. He wasn't certain of anything anymore…except that he was going to die if he didn't get up.

Heero found it hard to keep breathing. Was he hurting so much because he was dying, or because of her?

He would never forget the scene before him when he entered the chamber where the princess had been held. Never, ever. It would haunt him even in Hell.

~flashback~

He had gotten there too late. The room was empty, empty except for one. Plastered against a mighty crucifix hung his princess, now a lifeless, fragile doll. Her head drooped, with golden tassels of hair cascading gently across her cheeks. She was clad in white robes, which seemed to float from her tiny frame and softly ripple to the floor.

He gulped.

With a tightened jaw, Heero slowly approached the body. He soaked in the purity of her visage, wincing at the beautiful destruction of the sight. He raised his hand towards the angel face, hesitating for a moment, which felt like an eternity, his fingertips inches away from her skin, his exhale causing her flaxen strands to tremble under the soft wind he created. Carefully pulling back the tawny strands of hair that covered her neck, he exposed the pale perfection of her arching shoulder and let out a slight growl at the marks the noose had made where it clung to her. Trying to steady his shaking hand, he lay two fingers firmly on her neck, checking for a pulse, even though he knew she had departed some time ago. He winced at the thought. Judging from the scene, it must have been that morning. He had missed her by a morning.

Fearing that he would break the delicate creature if he touched her again, he tried to back away. But all reason escaping him, he brushed her cool cheek with his fingertips and felt a shiver run through him. Finally…he finally had the courage to touch her after all of the time he had spent waiting. He brushed his thumb lightly upon her feather lips, not even realizing the faint whimper that escaped him. He had never attempted such a thing before, when she was alive. Forever, he would regret not being able to feel her living form. He would regret not having ever kissed her, tasting those peachy lips, letting her lick the salt from his…he had wasted so many precious moments only imagining it.

Finally, he took a step back. Without even realizing it, he fell to his knees; silently mourning over a goddess he had always worshipped, yet refused to admit the power she held over him.

Looking back up at body, presented in such a premeditated form, he suddenly realized what was happening. This display was meant for him. He was already surrounded.

Hearing orders from his left, and then his right, the shots began and so did the pain. But pain never stopped Heero Yuy.

The boy lashed out. He was wild, filled with hate, anger, revenge, madness. Grabbing his pistol, he targeted every last rebel. By now, he had been hit multiple times, but the shooters were inexperienced and afraid of the pilot who seemed possessed by the Devil himself.

Covered in blood, with eyes flashing, Heero channeled his rage, staring down every enemy. He cursed each and every victim before taking away their life, just as they had taken her life away from him.

With blood falling like ashes from burning wood, soldiers were lost, but soon everything died down. The room was quiet except for Heero's labored breathing. As the last bullet shell fell, so did the Perfect Soldier. He lay in a bed of blood, surrounded by bodies, yet he fixed his gaze on one thing. Curling with spasms he looked only at the hallowed vision of Relena's serene face.

~end flashback~

Every swallow was slow and drawn, as he felt his throat constricting, choking, before relaxing after the blood and spit passed through his airway. Lord, was he in bad shape.

But he had survived Death before when he self-destructed in Wing Zero. He could will himself right now to stand, to carry Relena's body out of the rebel base and take her back home, away from this place of the damned.

But that meant he had to keep on living. He had to live without her, knowing he had let her die.

So he lay there, the stench of death thick in the air, a constant message replaying itself in his mind:

"I am alone now. I am alone because I failed. A tragic end to a tragic beginning. A tragic hero…is that what I am? I never knew the world could come crashing down so quickly. But she knew. She accepted Fate. But what about me? I have always fought against it: Fate, Death, Evil. But now that my reason for fighting, for living, is gone, I am lost once again. I have no purpose, I have no fate. I am left to choose. Which will it be? Life or Death? Death or Life? I have no answers. I need more time…"

~~~~

Yes, that is the end. There is no more. Go on, go home, there's nothing more to see here. I'm sorry if you felt that this was a cliffhanger, and I know everyone hates cliffhangers, but I thought it was the proper ending. Please tell me what you think. Remember, I've never really read angst before and this is my first time writing it, so I really don't know how to judge it. Thank you for reading!!! Now I'm going to go off and write about happy things… like fluffy bunnies and that cute little Quatre, or Quatre in a fuzzy bunny suit…hmmm………