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Sky to Gold	By : BlackberryPatch Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male > Treize/Zechs Views: 3801 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 3
- 4
- 5
4

He was dreaming, Zechs knew, but it felt so real.

He was back there, in the darkness, that hell, and she was standing over him, with her face twisted in the most revolting grimace of pleasure as he screamed. Her fingers were fire and death where she traced lines on his skin. It was the night she'd lost it, gone completely crazy, and he wasn't sure he would live to see the dawn. God, he wasn't even sure he wanted to. He thought he would go mad from the pain; he hadn't thought that one person could feel so much pain...
And then Dermail had come in, on fire himself and completely pissed. He'd smacked Dorothy around a bit, but it ended as it always did- with sex. She screamed too much- Zechs knew Dermail preferred a more subdued expression of despair- and more often than not Zechs would get pulled into their abusive passion. They both got off on hurting him, though for different reasons.
He hadn't thought that it could be so cold... He hadn't thought that a person could be so cold, and not be dead. But maybe he was dead...
He could hear her voice, taunting him. "Zechs," she called softly, but wait, his mind thought fuzzily, she never called me that...
"Zechs." Fingers traced his face gently then gripped his uppers arms and shook him. "Zechs, snap out of it." Lips, warm and pliant, brushed over his forehead. "I'm here, Zechs. It's all right."
His eyes snapped open, but it was a minute before he truly saw anything; before he registered the warmth all around him, beside him, with its arms wrapped around him. He exhaled, in one long, shuddering breath, and buried his face against Treize's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
Suddenly harsh fingers grabbed him by the chin and forced his head up until he met Treize's eyes, which glittered with fury. "You have nothing to apologize for. Zechs," those eyes softened, and Zechs realized that their angry fire was for someone else. "There is no excusing what they did to you. The fault is all their own." His hands clenched, as if he meant to do battle with some unseen foe, but he relaxed, and kissed Zechs again.
Zechs smiled at him, grateful for his words, his presence, but... He wouldn't say that if he knew what a rotten mess I've made of everything.
He hadn't realized he had dropped his gaze until Treize's fingers raised his chin again. "You don't believe me," he said flatly. Zechs' eyes flew open wide for a moment and he prepared to deny Treize's words, but a finger to his lips stopped him. "Don't lie to me," Treize whispered, his eyes searching Zechs' face intently.
Those eyes. Staring back into them, Zechs felt his unease begin to melt away. But his fears were deep seated; they'd had years to take root. He closed his eyes; he could feel Treize's fingers brushing soothingly over his cheek. "I've been lying for so long," Zechs whispered. "I don't remember what truth sounds like." He leaned into the hand that touched his face with such gentleness, knowing it could not last.
"I think you do." The motion of those fingers never stopped, brushing steadily over his cheek. "And it's time you stopped lying, especially to yourself. Tell yourself something true. Say it so I can hear it too."
Zechs' mouth opened, but no words came out. No. I can't say that... He opened his eyes. Not yet... He met Treize's encouraging gaze and took a deep breath. "Ten years," he said, looking in those eyes. "Ten years I've lived with Dermail. I... don't know how I lasted for that long." He honestly could not remember a good portion of the last decade, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. And before that... There had been life before Dermail, but he couldn't remember that either.
No more lies...
All right, so he did remember a bit.
"I have a sister." Yes. That was true; he remembered now.
He frowned. "Had. I... Dermail told me he killed her." Zechs' eyes grew dark as memories long suppressed returned with a vengeance. "He brought me proof. He said he didn't blame me for not recognizing her; his men had had some fun before he finished her off." His voice was black with a rage held in for ten years, but now that he had begun he could not stop.
"Dermail," he spat the name, "enjoyed having me around for his own pleasure, but he let Dorothy play with me sometimes. His only restraint on her was that she wasn't allowed to permanently scar me." Zechs' eyes were ice as he stared at nothing, at the past. "Other than that, she could have as much fun as she wanted. And of course Dorothy didn't like that Dermail did like me so much." He rubbed a hand over his arm distractedly, as if remembering an old pain. "That made her very... creative." He traced a finger over a scar low down on his stomach. "Of course, sometimes she got carried away." His finger shied away from the scar, as if suddenly burned. "I think she enjoyed it when he punished her," Zechs said, his voice full of loathing and yet a strange understanding. "But sometimes she didn't feel like risking his displeasure. So she wouldn't touch me." His jaw clenched. "She'd torture others, in front of me. Kill them, or, more often, leave them bleeding at my feet to die slowly. She knew that would affect me, go against everything I had been raised to believe in..." Zechs trailed off, lost in the memory.
Treize's lips on his forehead brought him back to the present. He realized absently that Treize's fingers had never stopped stroking his cheek. He scanned the older man's face, looking for the revulsion he was sure he would find there, and said, just so everything was clear, "I think that was the worst. I could handle what she did to me, what Dermail did to me. But when she hurt others... I can't even call them innocents; some were, but most were guilty of some horrible crime and had run afoul of Dermail somehow. And still when she cut them, it was like she cut me. I... dreaded being sent to her. I would..." he swallowed. "I would do anything to keep it from happening. So I sought to please Dermail. I pleasured him in any way he desired." Zechs gaze grew vacant. "That's why he liked me better than the others. I died every time he fucked me, and that's the way he liked it."
Silence spread throughout the room as Zechs stopped speaking. He closed his eyes against the faces that filled his mind and the darkness that surrounded the bed, and listened to Treize's breathing, hypnotized by the steady thrum of the fingers across his cheek. The silence stretched on for a long minute. And though he hated to press the point, hasten the words he was sure would hurt him- would shatter him this time, now that he'd let all his walls down- he said, desperately, "Say something."
The fingers stopped moving and rested against his cheek. "Zechs," Treize said softly. "It's not your fault. What they did to you. What you had to do to stay alive."
Zechs shuddered. "Better to be dead than to be what I am," he whispered.
Treize's fingers dropped from Zechs' face as if they had been burned. "Is that what you believe?"
He was silent for a long time. "It is what part of me believes," Zechs said finally. "The part of me raised by my father; raised to believe in holding ideals over personal wellbeing." He searched Treize's face, adding, "It is the same part of me that shies away from you and everything you try to give me. You offer me life, but... I am unsure as to whether I am even capable of accepting it from you."
Treize frowned thoughtfully and his hand started stroking soothingly along Zechs' arm. The gesture was almost unconscious, and something inside of Zechs thrilled at the touch. "But only a part of you feels this way?" Treize questioned. He looked at Zechs hopefully. "What does the rest of you feel?"
Zechs' eyes drifted closed, his head arched back, and a pleasant, sated smile spread across his features. Finally, an easy question. "Ecstasy," he said. "The past is a shadow, the future... golden." He leaned forward, burying his face against the curve of Treize's neck, inhaling the scent of the man.
Treize chuckled. "Well, that's something I can work with at least." He wrapped his arms around Zechs and let his hands trace small patterns across Zechs' back as he lay there, thinking over what the younger man had told him.
"You are afraid of life, because you feel you have disgraced yourself and your family beyond repair," Treize said finally, restating what Zechs had said. Zechs nodded assent. "But," Treize continued, "what if the life you lived was not this life you now feel unqualified for?" Zechs looked at him, puzzled. "I mean to say, who said you had to go back to that life? If you are not the same person who lived it, then perhaps it is better to think of yourself as dead, of that part of you as being dead, and begin again." His gaze was hopeful.
Zechs stared at him, his mouth dropping open. "I... I had not thought of that." His brows furrowed in thought. He felt an obligation to his family, as the eldest and only son, but... He was unworthy to even think of himself as a member of that family. Fortunately, or so it seemed now, Dorothy had already taken care of that- Zechs was not his real name; he wasn't even sure he would respond to his real name if he heard it again. His family would find someone to take his place. There were candidates, he could remember a few. They didn't need him... Not the way he was now.
He reached out a hand and ran his fingers tentatively down Treize's face, as if doing it for the first time. "I... all right," he said thoughtfully. "I'll try that." He grinned. "It shouldn't be too hard." He kissed the other man, forcefully. "Should it?"
Treize smiled back at him, his happiness at Zechs' decision evident. "Mmm, I should hope not." His expression grew serious. "Zechs, it could very well be difficult. But... let me help you? I..." He pressed his forehead to Zechs', their breath mingling and coming as one. "I want to be there for you."
Smiling broadly, Zechs wrapped his arms around Treize and buried his face in Treize's hair. His heart quickened, and his boldness almost surprised him, but, he thought, maybe this will work after all... And maybe with some time, Zechs would be able to admit more to himself, be able to accept what he had become. And maybe, then, he could try and find his family and apologize to them...
They had been talking a long time; dawn was visible through the windows with their drapes pulled back. Raising his head to look at Zechs, Treize caught sight of the rising sun. "Damn," he frowned, and sighed. He looked at Zechs. "Are you all right?"
Zechs nodded. "Yes. You have things to do?"
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I have a manor to run, and I've been neglecting it the past few days. Because I had something far more entertaining to occupy my time," he said, smiling as he raised a hand to cup Zechs' cheek. "Come out with me," he urged Zechs. "I'll show you around."
"I... Not today." Zechs dropped his eyes and pulled back from Treize slightly.
He could feel Treize's disappointment, but the older man tried not to show it as he rose and dressed, smiling as he said, "All right, I'll see you later then," and paused before he left, cupping Zechs' cheek in his hand before kissing him softly on the forehead.
Alone in the room, Zechs wanted to smack himself. After Treize had been so understanding, he had to go and throw it in his face like that. Truthfully, Zechs was still scared of life- a night of soul baring didn't change patterns of thought that had been ingrained in him over the past ten years. Going with Treize, observing daily life, being a part of this life... He couldn't. Not yet.
Zechs frowned at himself, suddenly angry. Bullshit, he thought. Abruptly galvanized into action, as if, if he didn't start now, he wouldn't, ever, he searched out and found some clothing that fit him and was reasonably clean. I can't let the past rule my life. That was the point of all the talking we did, wasn't it? He hurriedly pulled on shoes and ran downstairs.
He almost ran Otto over on his way into the kitchen. He paused, taking a moment to breathe before he gasped out, "Treize?"
"Master Treize has left; he did not appear to be in the mood for breakfast." Otto scanned Zechs' face briefly, then turned to the back door of the kitchen and pointed out of the doorway toward a squat building several yards away. "That's the main stable. He should be there." Zechs thanked him; Otto smiled and offered him a cloak from beside the door. "It's a bit chilly out there, sir." Zechs took the cloak with a smile, and took a deep breath before setting out at a run for the stable.
It was farther than he had thought, or he was in far worse shape than he had thought. He'd barely made it to the edge of the back paddock before he had to stop and walk the rest of the way. He was walking along the fence when someone on the other side of it recognized him. Running up to the fence, head up and tail flagged, Bucephalus snorted a greeting to Zechs then bugled and kicked up dirt as he turned abruptly and started running along the fence line.
Zech smiled at the stallion. Suddenly, an idea struck him. Sliding between the bars of the fence, he eased into the paddock. Catching sight of him, Bucephalus stopped short and snorted at him. He advanced on Zechs, neck arched and nostrils flaring. Zechs stood calmly and held out his hands to the approaching stallion. "Hello there," he murmured. "I think I remember you better than you remember me, hmm? I just want a little favor old man, and then you can go back to eating grass and chasing mares." A youth spent among horses came back to him as he approached the stallion and stroked him easily on the neck, allowing the horse to smell him. After a few minutes he took a handful of his mane and led him over to the fence. Climbing onto one of the lower crossbars, Zechs mounted the stallion. Bucephalus' ears shot back and his muscles tensed as he prepared to remove this irritant, but Zechs, recalling how Treize had handled the animal, wrapped his legs securely around the stallion's barrel. "None of that," he added in a forceful voice as he smacked the horse lightly on the neck, and nudged Bucephalus into a walk and then a full canter.
The wind felt good on his face and a feeling of self confidence filled Zechs, the likes of which he hadn't felt in a decade. He felt so good that he stopped really paying attention to where they were going, until the muscles under his legs tensed. Glancing in front of them, he saw Bucephalus had reached the gate to the pasture, where the fence was slightly lower, and was preparing to jump it. Sudden panic filled Zechs, but he overcame it almost instantaneously. Bucephalus was already prepared to jump the fence; If Zechs tried to pull him out of it now one- or probably both- of them was going to get hurt. So he leaned forward over the stallion's neck as the supple body rose with a ripple of muscle to clear the fence, with plenty of room to spare. Bucephalus landed with an almost contemptuous air, as if the fence was barely worth the effort he expended to jump it, and trotted forward a few steps, tail still flagged and neck arched pompously. Zechs had leaned back as the horse came down, and he felt the slight jarring as they reconnected with the earth; he looked up to see Treize watching them.
He stood a few yards away, and Bucephalus went to him without any urging. With a soft whicker, the horse shoved his head against his master's chest. Treize automatically raised his hands and started stroking the stallion's ears. He looked at Zechs, his face impassive, revealing nothing.
Zechs took a deep breath. He almost blurted out an apology; the stallion could have been seriously injured by Zechs' antics. But something about Treize's face stopped him; Treize was watching him too carefully. It was a test, Zechs realized, and he had every intention of passing with flying colors.
"I changed my mind," he said, his voice firm. "Bucephalus offered to help me find you." Zechs met Treize's eyes, watching as they suddenly softened and the older man's face broke into a smile.
He came forward and touched Zechs' ankle. "That was uncharacteristically kind of him."
Insanely reminded of the day they met, Zechs swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat that was making it hard for him to breathe, and said nonchalantly, "Well, I was very persuasive." Treize looked up at him and Zechs immediately brought his leg over the horse's back and slid down his side to stand in front of Treize. "I..." He wanted to say I'm sorry but changed it to, "I was scared earlier, when you asked me. I didn't mean to hurt you." He touched Treize's face. "Thank you for being patient with me."
Treize smiled and turned to kiss the hand Zechs had rested on his cheek. "Thank you for being honest with me."
Zechs returned the smile, and thought, Now. Now I can say it... But, as he opened his mouth, Bucephalus suddenly bugled a challenge.
An answering bugle drifted back toward them on the wind, and Zechs glanced in the direction it came from. When he did, his heart fell to his feet.
A small group of horsemen was coming toward them, their trappings in the sunlight glittered with a military flair. Bucephalus moved around the pair standing next to him and prepared to charge the horses coming toward them, but Treize held a fist out in front of the stallion's nose. "Hold," he said in a terse voice that brokered no argument. Bucephalus whickered and bowed his head.
The group of horsemen slowed as they came closer, until the leader brought her mare to a halt in front of the pair of men. Her eyes were fixed on Zechs, and their violet depths trembled with emotion. From the corner of his eye, Zechs could see Treize glancing at him questioningly, but his gaze was as drawn to the woman in from of him as hers was to him. She was, at once, both the most welcoming sight and the most horrific thing he could imagine.
"Lucrezia," Zechs murmured.
She almost fell off her horse in her haste, and she flung herself at him, her arms going around his neck desperately. He returned the embrace automatically, too stunned to actually think.
"Oh Milliardo," she whispered. "At last. I found you at last."

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Sky to Gold