Gundam SEED Fan Fiction / Gundam Seed Destiny Fan Fiction ❯ Enough to Begin ❯ Chapter 1

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

1.) Wounded Paw, Wounded Soul
2.) Watering Hole
3.) Feminine Instincts
4.) A Decision Made
5.) What is Love
6.) Enough

Anime/Manga: Gundam SEED Fan Fiction / Gundam Seed Destiny Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 01.13.2008 | Pages: 18 | Words: 19.9K | Visits: 1.8K | Status: Completed

Title: Enough To Begin Again

A Gundam Seed Fanfiction
By Andrea Readwolf [andrea_readwolf @hotmail.com]
Phases: 6
Rating: for Mature Beings only
Main Pairings/Characters: Cagalli/Athrun

Supporting Cast: Kira/Lacus
Genre: Romantic Drama
Warnings: After-series, adult themes, mild language, character angst
Spoilers:

Summary: Kira and Lacus scheme to bring Cagalli and Athrun back together again after the second war, life, and circumstances tear them apart. But with Cagalli resisting, one must ask, "when is enough, enough?"

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created from the mind and heart of the author and not intended for sale or profit. Character rights and original story are copyright of the Gundam Francise and Bandai.

Date Started: December 2006

Date Finished: January 2008
Status: complete
Word Count: 9,869

Author's Note: This story was started in attempt to fulfill the Secret Santa request. >.> As it is now a year later, and the story didn't quite make the deadline. [sighs] Sorry.

~~~****~~~

Wounded Paw, Wounded Soul

"Will you just go already," Cagalli all but shouted, stabbing a finger from her good hand towards the private lodge's front door entrance.

Kira hesitated; torn between doing what he thought was right and doing what Cagalli said she wanted. Realistically, he knew it wasn't anyone's fault that she had gotten hurt, but that didn't help abate the sour feeling of guilt rolling around inside his stomach. Guilt that here they were in this beautiful winter wonderland, all set to enjoy a week's vacation out on the slopes, and not even half-way into the trip, Cagalli had been hurt. Guilt that said it was his idea to come here, and therefore his fault. Guilt ate at him for even considering going out to play while leaving his sister behind.

In the end, it was Lacus who interceded, sliding cool fingers over his shoulders and squeezing gently.

"If that's what you really want," his fiancée replied calmly, sliding up next to him, his hand falling naturally to her waist. "We'll go out for a few hours then, but don't be surprised if we choose not to spend all day out in the snow. Part of our reason behind this vacation was so that we could all spend time together, Cagalli, and have some fun."

Cagalli huddled in on herself, under the weight of self-imposed critism. "I'm sorry to ruin everyone's plans."

"It was an accident," Kira rushed to assure her, while Lacus agreed, "Accidents happen."

"It's not like you planned to get hurt," he pointed out.

"No one blames you," Lacus told the other woman firmly.

But Kira was frowning again. "I really did want to spend some more time with you. You're so busy all the time... I don't want us to lose touch again."

"We won't. I promise," Cagalli asserted. "Didn't I already tell you? I really mean it, Kira. I want you and Lacus to go out and have some fun. I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself for one day, and the doctors left me with plenty of pain blockers, so I'm fine. Really."

"Does it hurt?" he asked quickly, latching on to a new concern. "Do you want me to call the doctor back here?"

"Kira..." Cagalli began before forcing herself to stop and think calmly. "The only thing stopping me from getting up and hitting you right now is that I'd probably just end up hurting myself more than I would you. And I don't think my leg would hold me up long enough to get over there."

"Come along, Kira," Lacus interceded, tugging on her husband's arm. "We shouldn't add to Cagalli's stress right now. Sometimes being on your own with nothing to do can be relaxing, too. And that is our ultimate goal, is it not?" she added softly. "To help her relax?"

Cagalli watched, steaming as the other woman expertly manipulated the young man out of the cabin and into the glistening winter wonderland outside. She could hear Kira's gentle protests through the cloak room door where the couple finished bundling up properly. She imagined she could still hear him after the thick door closed shut behind them.

Cagalli forced herself to exhale and relax her tensed muscles--it hurt more when she tensed up like that, and right now she didn't need any extra pain.

She exhaled again and leaned back into the sofa's cushions.

It was her own fault she was stuck indoors today, banned from the slopes for the rest of their vacation. She had no one else to blame but herself. No one else knew the limits of her body like she supposedly did. She should have realized she was too tired to make that last run, but her damnable pride--to hell if she would stay behind, be left behind when the others went forward.

It was rotten bad luck, that's what it was, she impressed upon herself. Rotten bad luck that landed her crippled on the sofa with a broken wrist, twisted knee, and a lovely variety of scrapes and bruises.

"Hey."

Her eyes snapped open--when had they closed?--and she jerked nearly upright on the sofa. "Athrun! What are you doing here?"

He shot her that shyly amused smile of his--that still managed to do funny things to her stomach, curse him--and stepped closer to the sofa. "I came with you, Kira, and Lacus, remember?" he teased gently.

"Don't be obtuse," she snapped irritably in no mood to be teased or cajoled into a good mood. In no mood to be in the same room as Athrun, she mentally revised. "Why are you here," she repeated with stabbing gestures, "and not outside on the slopes already? I thought you liked snowboarding."

"I do," he answered quickly, too quickly she thought suspiciously. "I mean, it's pretty fun, I guess, but I thought maybe Kira and Lacus would enjoy some time alone, you know? It's not a lot of fun being the third wheel," he finished, a lot more embarrassed than he'd started.

"Yeah, I guess," she allowed grudgingly. But she still didn't want to be cajoled. "You don't have to all be together. There are plenty of slopes here for everyone," she pointed out, and when he didn't do anything she snapped, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"What?" he blinked back at her, hesitating over something.

"You're not going out in just that, are you?" she remarked looking over his choice of day wear. Not that he didn't look good in the black jeans and maroon long sleeve top, but they definitely weren't outer wear for snowy weather.

He eyed his clothing. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"It's not warm enough for snowboarding," she pointed out.

"It's perfectly fine for staying in and hanging out, though."

"But you're not staying in," she insisted. "You're going out."

"Maybe I don't want to go out," he pointed out. "Maybe I've had enough of snowboarding and want to take a day off."

"Don't be ridiculous!" she reprimanded him, annoyed that he would even suggest something so ridiculous. "We've only just got here the other day, and it's gorgeous outside. Who in their right mind would stay cooped up indoors like this -- on a day like--?"

In a fit of enthusiastic temper, she'd tried to stand and pace about, which proved to be a very painful mistake when both her hip and knee protested the abrupt demand and buckled. Arms grabbed at her before she could complete the fall, pulling her forward against the cozy warmth of Athrun's sweater, her fingers abusing the material horribly where they clenched at him.

"Cagalli," he breathed against her neck, and he felt her shiver.

She had press down forcibly on the emotions that threatened to overwhelm good sense, threatened to weaken her resolve and send her leaning into him, inhaling his scent deep into her. She swallowed, twice, and hissed, "Let go."

"Don't," he protested when she would have pulled away. "Wait, Cagalli."

"I want to sit down," she said slowly, carefully, trying to ease back away from him again. Being in the same room was enough to make her confused; being this close to him was just masochistic. She had to get away, put some distance between them.

But Athrun wasn't ready to let go. "Do you have any idea how I--how we-- I was really worried yesterday." Slowly, his grip relaxed against her arms.

"I just fell," she told him, shifting back and testing her balance. "It's not like I really got hurt or anything."

"Not like," he started incredulously, hands clenching automatically, reflexively.

'Possessively,' a little voice whispered in her head, and her stomach flipped.

"Cagalli, you broke your wrist, and your leg, and--it could have just as easily been your neck!"

"I didn't break my leg; I twisted it. There's a difference," she fired off, sliding her arm under, up, and out, knocking Athrun's grip away and stepping back quickly. "Really, Athrun. It's not like you to over-react," she continued with slightly more composure as she turned away. "Besides, it's not like you're in charge of my safety anymore. You're not my bodyguard, Athrun. You're not even a member of my staff anymore. So you can't just--"

His lips were cool and chapped when they pressed against hers. Her fingers were tangled in his sweater again, gripping the arm that had grabbed and turned her back towards him. A moment of shock later, she used that same grip to push him back.

"What the hell, Athrun? You can't just go around kissing--"

"Cagalli. Shut up," he told her affectionately, reaching with his other hand to caress her face.

The gentleness of the gesture only scared her into fighting harder. "No, dammit, Athrun, let go!" She shoved at him until she felt her energy drain dry like an empty battery. "Don't do this," she whispered. "Please."

He didn't release her even after she stopped trying to push him away. Instead he drew her closer, wrapped his arms around her as he pressed her against his chest, his face lowered against her neck and shoulder, breathing her in, sucking up the reality of her warm presence as she stood there and trembled.

Eventually the shaking stopped, and Athrun drew back enough to look down into her face, searching for... something, until finally she relented and looked back at him.

"I was afraid yesterday," he told her with honest sincerity. "Afraid I would lose you."

"Athrun..." Her chest felt like it was being torn open and hollowed. Finally she answered, "You can't lose what you don't have."

"I love you," he said without hesitation.

She nearly broke down in the face of those words, but she forced herself to swallow back the cry that threatened to choke her. Months ago, years ago, those words would have had the power to completely change her life... Once. Not now. She couldn't allow them, him, anyone to have that amount of power over her anymore.

"But I don't love you," she replied faintly, staring at his cheek since she couldn't meet and hold his eyes anymore. His arms flexed and twitched around her, but he didn't try to squeeze her again. She took a breath, and then she stepped back.

He was reluctant still, but he let her go. Still, he tried, "Cagalli."

"No, Athrun. Just... no," she said quietly, as close as she was willing to come to begging. Another step back, more centimeters of distance between them.

"Why? Why not?" he cried suddenly, his voice turning harsh with anger. "Because I returned to Zaft? I've already explained why I reenlisted. And I came back, Cagalli. I did come back," he pleaded. "To you, to Orb."

"Yes, you came back," she allowed. She reached out and caught hold of the back of the sofa.

"Then what?" Athrun demanded, staring at her, willing her to tell him what he needed to do to bridge the canyon that had been carved in between them.

"Athrun... things change. People change," she tried to explain. "I've changed. You have, too."

"Not that much. Not where it matters," he protested. "Cagalli, I love you. I'm in love with you."

"I'm sorry," was all she could think of to say as she gratefully slid all of her weight onto the sofa.

"Don't be sorry, dammit. Dammit," he repeated, whirling away from her. "You just don't stop loving someone, Cagalli, and you loved me. It wasn't just a crush or a thing," he stressed when she opened her mouth to speak. "I'm not going to just step aside and pretend what we felt for each other didn't mean something. I won't do that again."

"I'm not going to argue with you about this," she informed him flatly. "Especially not now."

"You loved me enough to accept my ring once."

Tight bands wrapped around her chest, constricting her airflow. She thought of the band of metal kept safe in the special little jewelry box her mother had given her, where she kept her most important jewelry pieces. How it hurt to remember how he had given her that ring--a ring and a promise, a promise that he'd kept although a bit tardily. He had returned. And she... She had tried to give that ring back, had tried to give it away, but Kira had given it back to her instead.

It was hers, the ring and the promise. It was hers, but it was his. An unspoken promise made between two people. She still had the ring, but she couldn't keep the promise.

"Do you want it back?" she offered.

"Without you? No. It's yours," he growled. "I gave it to you. The reason I gave it to you still applies."

The constriction that had begun to ease when he said she could keep it returned twice as painfully. "Athrun, please don't be difficult about this."

"I won't just let you go, Cagalli," he told her, sounding so determined.

"I think you should go now," she suggested, not looking up at him.

"Yeah. Maybe," he agreed too easily. "Maybe I'll go outside after all."

He stared at her for a full minute, as if waiting for her to protest, but she didn't, and he turned and left the room without another glance behind.

Cagalli collapsed back against the sofa and focused on breathing. She felt drained, empty; physically and emotionally empty. She didn't--couldn't relax until the front door banged closed behind Athrun, and she was finally truly alone in the elegant little cabin.

Then she closed her eyes and allowed tears to fill in the void emptiness had left inside her.

~~~****~~~

Watering Hole

He didn't want to be around people, but he also didn't trust himself out on any of the slopes in his current state of mind. Process of elimination left his only recourse the resort's lodge. The main building was stylized to resemble a log cabin, if anything the size of a mansion could be likened to a simple cabin. A wooden palace guarded by a diligent column of towering pine trees. The interior was as luxurious as any palace or grand house Athrun had been in--and he'd had the privilege of experience to make an adequate judgment.

Central heating worked in conjunction with several large fireplaces scattered strategically about the common area to keep the air comfortably warm without being overly dry, and Athrun wasn't the only guest to have elected to stay indoors today instead of racing down the snowy slopes of the surrounding mountains. Still, he managed to find himself an armchair near one of the smaller fireplaces and was only bothered once when an attendant swept the room and asked if he needed anything.

She couldn't give him what he needed. He wasn't sure anyone could. Athrun wasn't even sure what he needed, wanted anymore.

She said she didn't love him anymore. He didn't want to believe her. Cagalli had never lied to him before--withheld the truth, maybe, yes, but out right lie to him? And to his face? Athrun swallowed down the bitter taste of acid harshly and continued to stare at the fire, willing it to explain what had happened.

He kept coming back to the wars. The first war, how everything was confused and mixed up; thinking you know who your enemy is, who's your ally, and finding out the lines of war weren't that clear-cut at all. Being labeled a traitor because he did what was right. He did the right thing. People he loved and cared about died because of it, but he was sure he did the right thing.

He was sure.

And afterwards...

He'd planned to die then. His mother was dead. His father gone. He'd killed so many people. He didn't deserve to live after that, did he? It was easy to make the choice to sacrifice himself to save the world his father had tried to destroy. He would have died if she hadn't stopped him; she came after him and brought him back.

He wasn't exactly proud of what they'd done then, but he didn't regret it. He never had regretted falling into bed with Cagalli in the aftermath of that final battle. He'd wished it had been better for her, but neither one of them had been experienced and so it was what it was. And he'd made sure to make up for it later.

Finding out she was betrothed had been a bit of a blow, but he'd been willing to work around it. Betrothals were becoming common practice in Plant, arranging for genetically compatible couples to marry and produce children, but that didn't stop husbands and wives from going outside the marriage to find love and companionship. The government frowned on such extra-marital relations bearing fruit, but no one was about to stop the practice. It would have been hypocritical of the majority of the government leaders to try and impose such a law.

That didn't prevent love-matches from forming, or couples marrying outside of arranged betrothals. Like Kira and Lacus, Athrun thought. The high council hadn't been too happy when they'd discovered she was already married to someone other than Patrick Zala's son, but that didn't stop them from calling Lacus back to Plant and practically forcing her into the role of Supreme Chairman.

Freed from his own obligations, Athrun had thought to offer Cagalli marriage. He'd tried, tentatively suggesting it in the breathless aftermath as they'd laid naked in her bed aboard her flagship. He knew he'd done a botched job of it, too, but as it turned out, it didn't matter all that much. She was already betrothed to someone else.

To say Athrun hadn't liked the Saran's would be a massive understatement. He hadn't liked the father at all and the son even less. But he'd been powerless to do anything about it. Cagalli refused to hear anything bad about the Prime Minister, and so he was forced to hold his silence when he would have rather just put a bullet between the man's eyes. Forced to watch as the Saran Family manipulated her, carefully chipping away at her self-confidence and molding her into some dependant figurehead. And she allowed them to do it. The only thing he could do--the only thing she would allow him to do--was hold her, when they were alone, tucked away from prying eyes.

He sometimes had to wonder how much that pompous twit of a fiancée knew of what happened when he wasn't there to try and form a wedge between Athrun and Cagalli. Athrun knew the Saran family didn't like him, even when he was only "Alex Dino", head of Cagalli's security. Did Jona know that after a long day of meetings, after a long day of being cuttingly belittled, how Athrun would love and hold Cagalli for hours? He would stay awake long after the medicine he'd slipped into Cagalli's food had done its purpose and allowed the young woman to find peaceful sleep, and he would plot exactly what should happen to Saran and his unsavory family members.

Athrun still didn't know if it was a mistake to have left Orb when he did, or if the mistake came later. And he didn't think the mistake was all his own. At the time, he'd left to try and figure out what Plant was thinking. He'd left for himself, yes, but he'd left for Cagalli, too. How things would have turned out differently if he hadn't left he didn't know. Cagalli would still have been forced into that marriage--short of kidnapping her like Kira did, Athrun didn't know what he could have done to prevent that. Even if he was in Orb at the time, he thought he knew Cagalli would still have tried to agree the proposal terms her father had left her. Her love for her father and for Orb were too great, she would have sacrificed her life, her happiness, for either one. She still would, he knew, and that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

Scared and angered him. Athrun knew he couldn't compete with the sense of responsibility Cagalli felt towards Orb--he wasn't about to try, but he hated that she would sacrifice her own happiness to that sense of responsibility. He hated thinking that's why she was pushing him away now, because of some misbegotten reasoning that she was protecting Orb.

He hated that she would stand there and lie to him, tell him she didn't love him when he knew damn well she did. To consider the alternative was unacceptable, he thought choking on his anger. He couldn't compete against Orb, but he damn well wasn't going to give up completely. He couldn't. It hurt too much, and if there was one thing Athrun was sure about it was that he didn't want to hurt anymore.

He didn't want to hurt anymore. He didn't want to hurt Cagalli, either. She said she didn't want him anymore. Why would she say that? She couldn't possibly mean it. Could she?

"Athrun!" Lacus called out cheerfully from across the room as she and Kira shed their skiwear. "What a pleasant surprise," she continued with an easy smile as the two strolled over to him. "We were just about to have a cup of cocoa. Would you like to join us?"

Kira, however, was frowning as he stared down at his friend. "What's wrong, Athrun?" he asked taking in his friend's gloomy demeanor. "Is it Cagalli? Is she all right? I thought you were going to stay with her today."

"She's fine, Kira. She just wanted some time to herself," he answered, brushing aside Kira's concern.

In his chair, Athrun shifted to better study his two friends. He knew, even though they never once said it, that both Lacus and Kira had hoped to use this holiday to see him and Cagalli get back together again. And although he was willing--more than willing--to try again, he couldn't do it alone.

She said she didn't love him anymore. Did she really mean it?

"She just," he tried to explain when both his friends turned questioning eyes on him, "wanted a little time alone, that's all."

Kira and Lacus shared a look--Athrun hated that look. It was the look couples often shared when they were silently communicating around others. Kira and Lacus were pros at it; he didn't think they were even aware of doing it.

He and Cagalli had once communicated like that, Athrun thought suddenly, and his chest constricted. He turned away from them; he didn't want to see Kira and Lacus acting like the perfect couple. He didn't want to hate them because of what they were to each other.

"Athrun," Lacus spoke gently, and he resented it. "Did you at least talk to Cagalli?"

His hands pressed together tightly, chasing the blood from his fingers. He thought it should hurt, but strangely, he couldn't feel anything other than suddenly... empty. As if all the anger he'd been feeling moments before had been banished with a magic wand, leaving him completely empty inside. He welcomed the emptiness. It didn't hurt when he was numb.

"It's no good," he told them carefully. "Cagalli... What we... It's over," he finally said. "She doesn't want to talk to me anymore."

"You're giving up then?" Kira asked, capturing Athrun's attention.

Kira looked as torn and conflicted as Athrun had felt. It wasn't easy. He was in the middle of it and understood that. It was difficult for Kira, too, being caught in between him and Cagalli. But Kira didn't need to be conflicted. It wasn't like Cagalli or Athrun was forcing or even asking Kira to choose between them. Sure it would have been easier if he and Cagalli could get back together, and then they would all be a happy little quartet again. A matched set.

Their matched set just had a few nicks and chips, that's all.

A memory flashed to the front of his mind of Cagalli, her head bandaged, looking at him with tears in her eyes. Tears of confusion and angry and self-depreciation.

"She's hurting," Athrun whispered hoarsely, closing his eyes as the numbness he'd enjoyed for a few blissful minutes vanished under the renewed unsought of his own pain. "I don't want to hurt her anymore and," he continued, having to force the words out, low and tight, "I don't want to hurt myself anymore, either. So, maybe it would be best for both of us if we just.... let it go."

Lacus sat in the neighboring armchair and leaned in closer to him. Only then did Athrun realize Kira had disappeared. "You love her," Lacus stated plainly.

Athrun shook his head, not in denial but in inevitability. "Sometimes love isn't enough, Lacus," he tried to explain. She said she didn't love him anymore. "It isn't enough. Especially if it's only one-sided."

Lacus's hand slid up his arm and over his shoulder. She squeezed in a sort of half-hug as she pressed her forehead against his. "Cagalli still cares for you, Athrun. She must. I know it."

"She mustn't anything," he informed her, his anger raising its ugly head again. His own head fell, crushed under the weight of it all. Lacus slid her arm around his shoulders in a supportive embrace, and Athrun found himself confessing. "She says she doesn't love me anymore."

"And you believe her?" Lacus asked delicately.

"Cagalli doesn't lie. She'll withhold the truth sometimes, but..." Athrun shook his head.

"Hot chocolate," Kira announced into the waiting silence. He held out the tray for them. "Careful, they're hot."

"Thanks," Athrun murmured. He took a quick sip without really thinking about it and ended up spilling some on his hand when he jerked back from the scalding liquid instinctively.

"Sometimes," Kira said carefully, staring at the cup in his own hands as Athrun blotted at his sweater with the spare napkins Lacus offered him. "We're compelled to do things even though we know we'll get hurt. Sometimes we avoid doing something because we're afraid we'll get hurt. People are funny that way, but then, how do you know if it might be worth the risk if you don't make the attempt at all?" He took a cautious sip and then winced. "Mmmn. Lacus, I think maybe you should make the hot cocoa next time. You do it a lot better then me."

"I agree," Athrun grimaced through a second sip. "You never could do much in the kitchen."

"I can boil water," Kira protested.

"What good is it if you can't do anything after that?"

"Then I guess it is lucky for us that I like to cook," Lacus inserted congenially before the two friends could distract themselves with an agreeable disagreement. "Athrun, it's plain to anyone who knows you that you're both unhappy."

"I don't know if we can make each other happy anymore," he said with as much sincerity as he could muster. "We just keep hurting each other whether we mean to or not."

"I want you and Cagalli to be happy, preferably together," Kira admitted finally. "But if that's not possible--" He paused and seemed to work his thoughts into a presentable fashion. "You're both really important to me, and I just want you both to be happy."

Athrun nodded his thanks and carefully steered the conversation off in different directions from there. Kira and Lacus allowed him to do so, but he could tell neither one considered the subject closed. Athrun continued to sit before the glowing fire long after the other two decided to be on their way.

~~~****~~~

Feminine Instincts

After Athrun left and she'd run a good crying jag, Cagalli slowly and painfully made her way back up to her own room, cursing him the entire way as hot tears of shame and pain burned her eyes and clogged her throat.

Her body throbbed, ached, and the pain blockers the doctors had left did little to ease the pressure squeezing down on her. She felt like screaming, but she held back and swallowed the impulse. For one, it was quite possible that if she started screaming she might not stop, and for another, she would die of embarrassment if someone heard her and came running to see what the matter was.

So, instead, she curled up in on herself, pulling the blankets on her bed up high to cocoon herself. She lay there, trying not to think of anything important -- it was amazingly easy. Perhaps the pain blockers had been good for something after all, she thought hazily as she continued to lay there, unaware of the passage of time until she heard noises from downstairs and thought to glance at the clock glowing softly on the nightstand.

Almost two. At least, Kira and Lacus had postponed their return until early afternoon.

She toyed with the idea of getting up, maybe going back downstairs to sit with Kira and Lacus for a bit. It was easier to just stay where she was, though, so she closed her eyes and went back to thinking about nothing. She was on vacation anyway. She didn't have to be social; she didn't have to be assertive. If she wanted to, she could just lay up here in her bed for the next two weeks; let the world take care of itself.

It sounded like a good idea to her. It wasn't like the world really needed her anyway, was it?

When Lacus came in to check on her a few minutes later, Cagalli feigned sleeping. Whether Lacus believed the act or not, the other woman left Cagalli to her solitude.

~~~****~~~

A Decision Made

"She can't just stay up there all day," Kira worried. "She needs to eat."

"I'll bring her up some food a little later if she doesn't come down on her own," Lacus promised washing her hands in warm water to help fight off the cold.

"Maybe I should go and check on her," he wondered, already turning towards the stairs when Lacus stopped him.

"Kira, let her be. Cagalli will come out when she's ready. Sometimes a woman just needs a little time to be alone with herself."

"Even you?" he asked, grinning sheepishly.

She smiled back at him and touched his lips with hers. "Yes, even me," she answered. "I know! Why don't we go back down to the main lodge for dinner? We can bring something back for Cagalli."

Kira, however, was still unsure. “You really think she'll be okay?”

“Yes, my love. I do.”

Kira didn't look one hundred percent reassured, but he allowed his fiancée to lead him back out into the snowy landscape.

When they returned, a little more than two hours later, Cagalli still hadn't left her room. In fact, she seemed not to have moved at all. To save the other woman from the threat of a hovering man, Lacus pressed Kira into a communications chair with orders to check in and took a tray upstairs.

“Cagalli? May I come in?” Lacus called, her voice soft and melodic. She hovered briefly before entering, carefully balancing the tray she'd had made up for the Orb princess. Seeing her just lying there, Lacus sighed.

“Cagalli, please talk to me,” she entreated, setting the tray aside and moving to sit next to the woman on the bed. “Is your wrist hurting?”

Cagalli barely shifted against the sheets—a small acknowledgement of the other woman's presence, but not more. Cagalli didn't even bother to look at Lacus, choosing instead to continue staring at some fascinating spot on the wall.

“Your leg?” Lacus tried. “Did you hurt it more while we were gone?”

Cagalli's eyes flickered for a moment, as if to finally look at Lacus, but she didn't.

“Kira's worried about you. Athrun, too. And me. We're all worried about you, Cagalli. Your friends…” She reached out and ran her fingers over the wispy blond hair. “We are all concerned for you.”

“Do you ever get tired of it?” Cagalli asked throatily. She cleared her throat and shifted to finally look up at Lacus, searching the other woman's face as if hoping to find some great answer to all the questions that plagued her. Or maybe just a hint of what direction she should head for.

“Tired of what?” Lacus asked placidly.

“The pressure. The demand to constantly be perfect.”

“I'm not perfect,” came the sharp, clipped answer, and Cagalli made an unflattering noise, shifting back to stare at the wall. Lacus sighed and stroked her hand over the wispy blonde curls.

“I'm not perfect,” Lacus repeated more sedately. “No one is, Cagalli. No one ever has been, and no one ever can be. I don't believe perfect ever really existed anywhere other than in our imaginations.” She paused, as if considering her next words, before adding, “And the world's a lot easier place to live in if you're not expecting everything and everyone to be perfect.”

Cagalli remained silent. Lacus loosed another soft sigh, and then she shifted up onto the bed, manhandling the blonde until she consented to lying with her head in Lacus's lap. For several minutes they stayed there, Lacus patiently stroking Cagalli's hair as they each chased their private thoughts. It was Lacus who once again breached the yawning silence.

“Kira isn't happy.”

Cagalli twitched, muscles tightening reflexively before she could force herself to relax again, but she didn't respond otherwise.

“In Plant,” Lacus continued. “I don't blame him. Plant was never his home as it was Athrun's and mine, and even we are not as happy as once we were. There are too many bad memories on Plant. After the freedom and peacefulness of Earth… It's where we live, but it isn't our home anymore.”

“It was your choice to return,” Cagalli reminded her. “No one forced you to leave.”

“Didn't they?” Lacus questioned her sadly. “Was there really a choice? For Athrun or myself? Kira, perhaps, maybe. He could have stayed behind in Orb. He had no ties drawing him back to Plant.”

“He had you," Cagalli corrected. "He went because you did.”

“Yes, I know," Lacus agreed, "and I'm grateful. And I know Athrun is grateful, too. I don't think either of us would have been able to accomplish as much as we have without Kira's help, but that doesn't change the fact that he's unhappy there. That we're all unhappy there. They think they hide it well, that I'm too busy heading the council to notice, but I do. I notice it because it is a reflection of my own feelings: they miss Earth, they miss Orb, and they miss you.”

Cagalli shifted, as if the small reminder that she was laying there with her head in the lap of another world leader made her nervous. It should have, she thought. Being coddled and petted should have made her spitting mad. She should be feeling insulted. She should be sitting up straight and looking this other woman squarely, evenly, in the eye.

Instead, she continued to lie there, allowing Lacus's steady hand to smooth and soothe. “I haven't gone anywhere.”

“No, you haven't. But still, we're trapped in our glittering cages, forced apart," Lacus said whimsically.

“You chose your cage,” Cagalli whispered hoarsely, unsympathetically almost accusingly. “You were free, Lacus. All of you were free, and you chose to walk back into the cage. You and Athrun, you made the choice to return, and you took Kira with you.”

“Yes.” Lacus left the word to hang there between them, not denying what couldn't be denied. “I think you would have made the same choice, Cagalli. Too much had happened. Even now, the echoes of the past continue to resound and haunt us.”

“They'll never go away,” Cagalli predicted hollowly.

Lacus's hand stilled. “I don't believe that. I don't think you believe that, either.”

“Maybe not, but I know that for as long as we live, our past will haunt us. It will echo on through our children's lives, and through our grandchildren's lives. The past will not die until long after we're dead.”

“Cagalli…" She toyed with the ends of her own hair, blending in with Cagalli's. "I'm planning on stepping down as Chairwoman. I haven't told anyone else yet.”

Silence stretched out between them. Cagalli's eyes danced the tempo of her thoughts, but she didn't say anything other than a whispered, “Oh.”

“I will, of course, remain available as an advisor to the council when they have need of me," Lacus continued when Cagalli didn't say more, "but I do not want Plant to continue to be dependent upon my opinions, my morals. If it cannot maintain its own morals and integrity, its own sense of self… then perhaps Plant does not deserve the right to be a separate nation.”

“All children grow up wanting—no, needing—to express their sense of individuality," Cagalli thought aloud. "Countries and nations are no different.”

“We're still tearing at ourselves from the inside," Lacus went on, allowing the heat of annoyance to warm her voice. "How can we continue to deny what the other nations are saying about us if we cannot stand together as a unified nation?”

Cagalli just snorted. “No nation is ever truly unified. You should know that.”

”Perhaps I do," Lacus allowed, "but it still frustrating.”

Cagalli lips twisted in what might have been a smile, and a small laugh, more a sob than a real laugh, left her. “Yes, it is.”

“We had hoped that Athrun's presence and influence would help mediate some of the Zala Group terrorists, but most of the radicals have just labeled him as a traitor,” Lacus admitted softly. And then, “There was another assassination attempt before we left. I don't know if I should feel honored that I am no longer their main target or not.”

“It's not getting any better then,” Cagalli whispered, eyes squeezing shut as she thought of the previous attacks they had survived in the last year. The thought was enough to have her pushing up out of Lacus's lap.

“No. Not nearly as much as we'd hoped," Lacus answered, helping her sit up. "I think we have been successful in calming the general public, but the rest…” She shook her head, a frown marring her normally pleasant expression. And then she pushed on with her main reason for breaching this topic at such a time. “I would like Athrun to leave Plant, for his own safety.”

”He'll never leave you behind,” Cagalli predicted weakly, a hint of sour jealously coloring her tone.

“Cagalli," Lacus continued, her voice strengthened with conviction, "if he stays, one of these assassination attempts will not fail. It only takes one chance, Cagalli.”

“He doesn't want to leave,” Cagalli repeated.

“That's not true." Her hand shot at as if to physically bat that idea away. It quickly resettled in her lap. "He doesn't want to fail. He doesn't want to desert Kira and myself. But he doesn't want to stay.”

”No one's forcing him to live on Plant," Cagalli huffed. "There's an entire world filled with countries and cities he could get lost in. There are space colonies other than Plant. He doesn't have to stay there. If his life is in danger, he can go anywhere.”

“Can he really?” Lacus asked quietly.

Cagalli frowned. “What's to stop him? Other than his own misconceived perceptions of honor and duty,” she added sourly.

“And you?”

“I have no control over what Athrun does or where he goes," she announced. "As far as I'm concerned you are all still citizens of Orb; we're a free and neutral nation. You can come and go whenever and wherever you want.”

Lacus sighed, and the air around them suddenly seemed sad. “Cagalli, why won't you accept him back?”

Cagalli had no answer she was willing to share.

“He loves you, Cagalli," Lacus pressed on. "You love him.”

“Love doesn't solve anything,” Cagalli said softly. "In fact, it often just causes more problems."

“No, it doesn't,” Lacus insisted. “It can often simplify things. By ignoring it you're only hurting you and him both. You have a chance to be together again; you shouldn't fight against it.”

“You don't know everything, Lacus,” Cagalli snapped. “It worked for you. You and Kira work. I'm happy for you; Really, I am. But me and Athrun... Athrun and I… caring about someone just isn't enough.”

“Why not?” Lacus asked.

Cagalli rolled away, swallowing a pained cry when she jarred her bruised limbs. “It just isn't,” she answered finally, and that was all she said until Lacus gave in and left her alone.

~~~****~~~

What is Love

Athrun studied his cards and didn't look up when Lacus returned from upstairs. Kira did, however.

"How is she?"

"Tired," Lacus answered, sliding into his arms with an ease that Athrun refused to be jealous of. She laid her head again Kira's and dropped a soft kiss against his crown before pulling back so she was just leaning into instead of hovering over him. "She's taking the medicine the doctors left, though."

Athrun snorted. "Surprising she'd concede to any weakness."

"Athrun," Kira started, warningly, but Lacus squeezed him. Athrun played a card and sat back waiting for Kira to play, but otherwise he kept quiet. Kira sighed and turned back to his cards.

Lacus straightened, looking hard at the man sitting around the table. "Athrun, do you believe love is enough?"

"Enough?" he repeated stubbornly, but Lacus stared back at him unflinchingly and the fight simply went out of him, leaving him slumped and exhausted. "No, Lacus. I don't. It's a start, or maybe sometimes it's an end, but it's not everything. It can't be everything, so it's not enough."

"Then what is?"

He gave the question the time he thought it deserved, but in the end, no quality answer would surface and it was left with the truth as he saw it. "I don't know."

Lacus studied him and then seemed to make a decision because her next words were, "I want you to leave PLANT."

Both Kira and Athrun stiffened, sitting up straighter.

"What?" Athrun finally managed to choke out.

"I want you to leave PLANT," she repeated. "Leave the Cities completely. In fact, I don't want you to return with us next week. You can stay on Earth or go someplace else, but don't return to PLANT."

"You can't stop me from returning."

"No, I can't, but I'm asking you. Don't return, Athrun. Please."

"I can't not return."

"There's nothing more you can do for PLANT, Athrun. You've already done what you could, what no one else but you could do. It's time to step away, Athrun."

"What about you? You are saying I'm not needed but you are?"

"Athrun!"

"No. They only think they need me. I've already begun the preparations for my leaving."

"What?"

"Kira..." She kissed him again, lightly, a brush of lips, a tender touch. "PLANT is where I was born and raised. I can't change that. But it's not home anymore. I'm tired. Tired of living away from home."

"Then...?"

"Yes. After this, I would like us to return to Orb, if you're willing."

"I would like that, yes," Kira whispered back, and they shared a tiny little smile that made Athrun's chest ache.

He looked away, allowing them their moment. He swallowed hard, and then found his voice again to ask, "When?"

“Six months,” she answered, running her fingers along Kira's neck. “Twelve at the most.”

“I know a few members of council who will be happy to hear that you're leaving.”

“Yes, I'm sure. They thought they could set me up as their figurehead to please the people and that I would smile and nod pleasantly while they did what they liked.”

“They thought you were just an image used by others, even during the wars.”

“Yes, well, they learned differently.”

“Yes, they did. And so did the rest of PLANT.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. The coming years will tell whether or not they learned anything at all from the devastation war has wrought.”

“You think it'll repeat itself? That there will be another war?”

“I'm beginning to wonder if it can ever be avoided.”

“PLANT and Orb have finished their Treaty Agreement.”

“Yes, they have. And many see that as more of a threat than it should be.”

“That can't be helped. Both Orb and PLANT are the only nations left with the strongest military force.”

“Perhaps not for long, though.”

“You're thinking about the reports that the Atlantic Federation is rebuilding their military.”

“Not just rebuilding, amassing their armies is more likely.”

“Can you really step away, leave PLANT, if you think there will be another war?”

“I will not lead PLANT indefinitely. I will serve the one term I promised and was sworn to do, and then I will allow both Zaft and PLANT to make their own choices again. I have given them my leadership and guidance; I will not give them my future, too. One must draw the line somewhere. For me, that line is here.”

~~~****~~~

Enough

Cagalli wasn't hungry. Just the smell of food made her insides twist and clench. So she didn't eat. She foisted blame off on the various meds she was dutifully choking down to ward off pain and infection.

She managed to avoid all three of the next day's meals in this way, and was content and well on her way to continuing this pattern when Athrun entered her room, uninvited and unwanted.

“Go away.”

“You need to eat something.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You need to eat to keep up your strength.”

“I'm not weak,” she whispered fiercely.

“No, you're not,” Athrun agreed calmly, setting the tray he'd brought with him down on the vanity top against the wall. “No one could ever accuse you of being weak. You are the least weak person I know.”

“I hate you,” she whispered fiercely, surprising him.

“Wha-“

“I really do hate you,” she said a little louder this time, fighting back tears. “I'm never right around you. I'm all screwed up inside because of you. Even when you're not around. If I just start to think about you… I can't stop. It's like you're a disease inside of me. You make me pathetic and weak, and I hate you.”

She hid her face, wishing to any god that would listen that he would just go away. But he didn't. For the longest time he just stood there, staring down at her like she was some kind of freak. Or worse: some hapless creature to be taken care of. She didn't want to be taken care of, dammit. She was not weak! She was not helpless!

“Cagalli,” he said finally, his voice choking on what she knew had to be sympathy. “You're not weak. You don't know how to be. You—you're one of the strongest people I know. I always admired you for that, for your strength and your determination and your integrity. It's one of the things that made me fall in love with you.”

“Don't,” she shouted against her pillow. “Don't say things like that. You don't know. You don't understand. You can't.”

“Cagalli, please.” She wouldn't look at him. He wanted to touch her, to reach out and comfort her, but she rejected his ever offer. “Just hear me out, Cagalli,” he pleaded with her. “I know you don't want to hear me say it, but I do. I really do love you. I've liked and admired you since we first met,” he rushed on, “and it's just grown and grown the more I've gotten to know you. I can't even tell you where it changed from like and admired to love, but it did. And I haven't stopped loving you since.”

His knees buckled and he slid down to the floor, his back dragging part of the blanket down with him as he rested back against the bed. It was easier to stare up at the ceiling than to look at her as he confessed, as he laid his soul out bare before her, knowing she would do her best to shred it. But he had to know. He had to know if the results would be worth it. If there was any chance at all left to him, for them.

“Everyday, it just got worse,” he told her, voice dull with aching. “I thought I could deal with it. We were friends—it would be good enough. I tried really hard to believe that. I could deal with you marrying Jona, if I could still be around you, still be your friend. But it wasn't good enough. And during the second war, everything just went to hell. I know that. I kept away afterwards because I thought the distance would make it better. That was what you said you wanted, and I thought maybe, I don't know. Maybe you were right. Maybe if I tried dating, hanging around some other people—but it didn't.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, head falling forward to rest on his clasped hands. “It didn't work because the one I wanted to be around, the one I wanted to be with, was you. And the more I tried to ignore you, the more I missed you.

“So I came back. I came back because I couldn't stay away anymore. It wasn't working. Being near you but not being able to touch you or hold you—that was hell, Cagalli. But not being near you at all…that was worse. I thought I could live with anything as long as I was near you, so I came back.

“I came back,” he choked just a little, stumbling over the words. “And you sent me away again.

“I understand why,” he rushed on, smothering whatever she might have tried to say with his river of words. “I do. Lacus, she needed the help, and Kira—Kira doesn't really understand PLANT. And it felt good to have a purpose, to have a job that needed to be done, something that I could do. For you. Something you needed me to do that I could do for you. But still you ignored me.

“Did you think I wouldn't notice? You always rush off the link whenever I'm there. You would talk to Kira or Lacus, but not to me. You were always too busy to spare even a moment for me.”

“I am busy, Athrun,” she whispered, and even to her own years, the excuse sounded weak and flaccid.

“I know you are. I know what you do everyday. I watched you doing; I watch Lacus do it. I know I'm not much help to you there, but, Cagalli… I love you. And you loved me once. No matter how much has changed—how much we have changed as individuals—I won't believe, I can't believe, your feelings for me have changed so completely.”

“Are you finished?” she asked. Her voice sounded dead and dull, completely untouched, unmoved.

“Yes,” he allowed, then amended, “No, not by a long shot, but, I—that's all. For now.”

“When you're around,” she began, searching for the words that would help him understand. Help her understand, too. “I don't think straight anymore,” she finally settled on. “I'm always thinking `What's Athrun doing right now? Is he all right? Has he found another girlfriend yet? Was he able to talk to that group, this council member?'

“If I don't keep myself busy, keep myself distracted, I think about you. I start remembering things I shouldn't be remembering. Things I don't want to remember. Things it would be better off if I just forgot about.”

“What's wrong with remembering?” he asked. “I don't want you to forget about me, Cagalli. About us.”

“There never was an `us', Athrun,” she barked. “We were never a couple. We never dated. We never—”

“We made love,” he interrupted. “We kissed. We held each other, slept in each other's arms.”

“Sex. Cuddling,” she snapped off dismissively. “They don't make a relationship.”

“Not to some, I guess, but for us—”

“Athrun,” she sighed, squeezing her eyes shut and wishing to hell this conversation would be over. She didn't want to go down this path, didn't want to be trapped in the same room with him, alone or not. She couldn't--

“Cagalli,” he began again hesitantly, carefully, “if I offered you a relationship of sex, just sex, would you still be turning me away right now?”

Her huffed exhale might have been a poor attempt at a laugh. “You can't do `just', Athrun. You're not a 'just' kind of guy.”

“And you're not that kind of girl,” he pressed sitting up on his knees and turning to look at her. “And it wasn't just some sex and a little cuddling, Cagalli. It was a relationship. Maybe not an ideal relationship, but it was real.”

“What do you want me to say?” she finally asked after another long minute of silence.

“I want you to tell me you love me, that you'll give us the chance we never got before. The chance to be you and me, together. To be an `Us'. There's no one holding you back now, Cagalli. No childhood betrothal; no over-bearing, disapproving Prime Minister who wants to rule. There's no one holding me back now, either. I won't hide who I am; and I won't hide my intentions.”

He was close, so close, too close. She could smell the scent he sometimes wore. It teased her senses and penetrated deep, bringing to the forefront memories of being surrounded by his scent, having it rubbed into her skin, her lines smelling like him the morning after one of their secret liaisons.

“And just what, Athrun, are your intentions?”

“You. I want you, and I don't care who knows it,” he said, cautiously crawling up onto the bed next to her. “I love you, Cagalli, and if at all possible, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Dammit,” she whispered, looking away from him.

“Cagalli?” he tried gently, shifting until he could press his body in behind hers, cuddle hers.

“Dammit, Athrun, dammit!” she repeated more forcefully. “Why the hell do you have to be so fricking nice and stupid and crazy? You make me crazy inside, and I don't know how to get you out.”

“Do you really want me out, Cagalli?” He whispered near her ear, feeling her shiver against him.

“Stop saying my name like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like you know what I look like without any clothes on!”

He grinned and nuzzled her neck. “But I do know what you look like without your clothes on.”

“Shut up!”

“Cagalli,” he said again, and he let the name roll off his tone like gooey, warm chocolate.

“I told you to shut up, dammit! Shut up and leave!”

“Cagalli.”

“I hate you,” she whispered brokenly.

He managed to wrap his arms around her and pulled her back against him. “I'd be really sad if I thought you meant it. But that's the problem, isn't it? You really do want to hate me because then—I don't know. But you don't. You don't really hate me, do you, Cagalli?”

“Get off my bed,” she rasped. “Get out of my room. I don't—“

He twisted before she could think of what he meant to do, and then he was kissing her.

She beat at him with her fists, tight and fast, and nearly screamed when her bad wrist collided forcefully with his shoulder.

“Stop, Cagalli. Stop hurting yourself.”

He took her hand and uncurled the clenched fingers, placed a kiss along the inside of each digit before pressing the hand against his cheek. “Stop lying. It doesn't become you anymore than crying. You really are a mess right now. You're lucky there aren't any cameras nearby to sneak your picture. What would the good people of Orb say if they saw their brave and fearless princess now?”

“Damn you,” she cried, fully aware of just how horrible she must look. Red and blotching and wet.

“Let me back in, Cagalli,” he pleaded again, threading his fingers through hers and clasping their hands together. “Let me stay beside you again, to protect and love you like before.”

“I don't need or want your protection,” she protested.

“But you'll accept it, accept me, won't you?”

“Damn you,” she repeated looking away again.

“You can damn me all you want,” he told her, brushing his lips along her face, “only if you love me while you're doing it.”

“You're being awfully open with your emotions and feelings here,” she accused.

“Aren't girls always saying guys should open up more? Express themselves?”

“Are you saying I'm like other girls?” Her eyes narrowed.

Athrun laughed. “You're like no one else. You're one of a kind.”

“So I'm strange, is that it?”

“…I'm not going to win this argument, am I?”

“Now I'm argumentative?” Cagalli demanded.

He carefully repositioned their limbs until she could lie against him comfortably and kiss her temple. “Get some rest, Cagalli. You're tired.”

“This changes nothing, you know,” she informed him, refusing to acknowledge just how good and safe and right it felt to be laying like this, together, surrounded by Athrun's scent and warmth.

“We can talk about changes later.”

“What if—a”

“Cagalli, shut up,” he ordered before adding, “Sleep."

“I don't want to sleep,” she protested, but her words were slurred, barely more than an exhaled sigh, and her eyes were already drooping closed.

“It's going to have to be enough for tonight,” he whispered back, rubbing his hand over her shoulder and down her arm. She was too close to being completely under to protest. “But we have the rest of our lives to do more than just sleep, Cagalli. I promise you: I will love and protect you—whether you want me to or not—until my dying day.”

_____________

The End… for now.