Comments: My apologies if I got the some of the dialogue or the order of it wrong, I haven't seen the scene in a while.

----

His sight slowly shifts into focus while the haze of unconsciousness clears out. A tanned face with a kind expression, untameable yet perfect brown hair and sparkling amethyst eyes causes him to choke. Kira. Kira, looking at him, so brilliant and stunning and alive. "Kira..." he manages to gasp out. Wasn't he dead? Shouldn't the boy before him be dead, and not staring into the depths of him with those pure, all-seeing eyes?

The images flash in his mind: the Impulse getting a direct hit on the FREEDOM, the blade running it straight through. The memory relapses him into horror he felt, the absolute pain at not being there for Kira. The bitterness brings the tears to his eyes as he feels the emotion wash through him all over again... He had regretted it all in the instant he saw the suit's defeat. He should have left ZAFT, should have been there! It could have been him instead, and not Kira... But there he is, before his eyes, smiling at him. Him, the traitor, the defector, he who turned from ZAFT and then leaped back into it's familiar embrace.

Kira tells him it's alright. He assures him that he's still alive, as if he had been concerned about his own demise rather than that of his precious, beloved Kira. He struggles forward out of bed, needing to touch him and actually feel him under his fingertips to be certain what's happening is real.

However, instead he's stopped by the gut-wrenching pain of his injuries, wounds which he'd hardly noticed before; they had only been meager in the presence of Kira. He doesn't mind the pain at all as a groan escapes him, all it means is that it isn't a dream. It isn't just some illusion he conjured for himself, it really is Kira there. Kira with his look of obvious concern as he stands up slightly in order to help him. No, he realizes, it's Kira here, right here in front of him.

Kira with his gentle touch on his shoulders, applying the softest amount of pressure as not to hurt him. But Kira could never hurt him... compared to all the pain and anguish he'd put the boy through, no amount of suffering that Kira could afflict on him would ever be enough. Kira, with his firm yet light push downward that steadily brings him back to the surface of the mattress.

With his beautiful, beautiful eyes that he would never forget, despite if he had never been able to see him again.

With his equally magnificent voice, that manages to hold it's polite, calmed and innocent nature, regardless of it's volume.

He's too busy memorizing everything about Kira all over again to get all of his words, but he catches Kira telling him that he needs to rest.

No, Athrun corrects him, silently, in his mind, the only thing I need in this world is sitting right beside me.