It happened at 2:30 in the morning. You called. The urgent, shrill ring of the phone woke me quickly.

I stumbled out of bed and grabbed the phone, near incoherent. But then I heard your voice, and every trace of sleepiness vanished.

Your voice was strained with tension, with some unknown emotion, and I didn't know what was wrong. But you had called, so I was relieved. A year after the war, and you had called.

But then you told me.

"Look...There's been an incident." 

I wondered what could make your beautiful voice so hoarse and sad. You seemed so tense, and it seemed like you trying to be quiet.

"I was on a plane, coming to see you."

My heart could've burst, I swear, I was so happy, you coming to see me and all. But I did catch that *was* that you said.

"But its been hijacked."

As fast as my heart rose, it plummeted downward even quicker.

"Look, these people are planning to fly it into Relena's mansion. Kamikaze, you know?"

My heart was in denial. No. It wasn't going to happen. No. No, no, no, not now, not ever.

"And you know...I have to stop it. Who better to terrorists than a former one?"

You continued, I tried not to hear. Tried not to follow where this was going.

"And...I wanted to tell you...before...I...I love you."

Your now-gentle voice was so wonderful in it's profession of love.

Somehow I managed to speak.

"I understand. You have to. Well...I love you too, always have. Always will."

It wasn't my idea of the most romantic conversation in the world, especially because you were going to...But it meant everything to me. 

I think my heart broke right then. Your voice was choked-off, muffled.

"Thank you. I love you, so much, I always have, too, you know. Ever since I met you."

Stop it, please, you'll make me cry. And I don't cry.

"Well...We're about an hour away from Sanc. I'm sorry. I don't want to do this. I love you as much as I love life, but this has to be done. The mission comes first, you know."

I was silent, and you hung up quietly. I went back to bed and then, then I cried, for the first time in God knows how long. 

I cried myself to sleep.

I watched the news that morning, and it mentioned something about a crashed plane, just out of Sanc. The reporter guessed at the reasons why, but he didn't know. No one did. It was one of those mysteries, authorities were trying to figure out why. 

They said that there were no survivors. 

I couldn't believe it. You hadn't died in the war...I guess something saved you, only for you to die now, so young and so sweet. 

It's unreal to me, I keep pretending you'll come back. We'll be together.

The others try to comfort me, all in their own little ways. They know you were on that plane. You must have called them too...I muse silently. What good is a confession of love if it's too late? I keep thinking of all the things we could have done together, of all the time that was wasted...

Everything floats past me, it feels like time has slowed and stopped, tipped his lovely hat at me. The seconds tick by like hours. I sit on the couch and watch news report after news report. Eventually I turn off the TV. but I still can't sleep. Not yet, and not now.

It's unreal to me. That you're not here anymore, here on this earth, it's where you belong, death would not appreciate you. You're too beautiful.

It's been one week since but still I am so very hopeful. It sickens me. Hope must be the worst thing in the world. Every time I'd hear the phone ring, I'd jump and run to it, but it would only be one of the others...

I cry, again, thinking of what we could've had. Of everything.

All of a sudden, the doorbell rings. 

Wufei, again, or the perfectly contented couple, Quatre and Trowa...so glowing in their love.

The insistent doorbell rings, over and over, and I don't move. You're gone...what is there left? No one can comfort me.

The door squeakily swings open, and I close my eyes, braced for another round of loving sympathy, God I can't stand that...

Instead, the voice I've been hearing in my ears, oh God it can't be...

"Heero?" 

I open my eyes slowly and gaze into your loving violet ones.

You're hurt, I note analytically, as I quickly rise from the couch, your arm is definitely broken, it looks like you've been shot and there are sloppy bandages and you are battered and sooty and you look in pain but...

You're alive.

I take a step toward you, hoping you are real and not some apparition, oh God please I've never prayed before but God, please...

I reach out to you and fold your lanky form into my arms, pressing my face against your bony shoulder, God I love you so...I'll never let you go again.

I hold you back at arms length, examining you for the slightest bit of damage...There's too much.

"How?" I finally venture, wanting to know but afraid to ask, like that once I do, there will be no logical explanation and you'll vanish, leaving me behind...

You smile warmly at me, even though it must hurt like hell, answering, "The bastards forgot to guard the parachutes." 

I smile, too, and it feels unfamiliar, but I do it anyway.

"I love you, you know."