Chapter 1: Into the deep

Lightning flashed across the sky, effectively blinding him for a moment.

I don't want to fight you!

Athrun could only scream inwardly. Firstly because he did not want to frighten the girl beside him, and secondly because the person he wanted so badly to scream at was not listening.

"STOP IT!!" He yelled, evading an attack.

"Listen, Shinn! What Rey and the Chairman said may sound correct, but…" He was rudely interrupted again as Rey-or rather, Legend-shot at him. Athrun cursed vehemently, and he could hear Meyrin gasp beside him, but he refused to be silenced. He knew he will probably not have a chance to redeem the boy ever again. He might die today, but if he did-even if he does- he wants to make sure the boy never walks down the same wrong path he did.

To willingly become a mindless puppet; a murderer.

"But…!" He continued relentlessly, "But their words will eventually lead everyone in this world to their deaths! And…"

"DON'T listen to him!" Rey snapped, his seething face appeared on the screen. A face twisted by anger and hatred, so unlike his usual self.

Apparently Shinn really was not listening, and Athrun's heart gave a wrench. For without hesitation, Destiny took out the Excalibar and launched itself upon the Gouf, Meyrin screamed as Athrun blocked the blow just in time, and the whole suit was sent flying backwards.

No…I don't want to fight you!

Athrun understood what was at stake, yet he could not bring himself to fight back either. His hands were gripping the controls so hard that his knuckles were white. He was angry at himself for letting Shinn go down this path, he should have realized earlier that the Chairman was manipulating Shinn all along. Weaving careful lies and spinning webs of deceit to eternally trap him in the vicious cycle of violence; molding and shaping his thoughts and feelings into the perfect killer, the perfect soldier.

Athrun should have been able to save Shinn…

"SHINN!" The protest tore out from his throat. "At least…At least let Meyrin get off! She's innocent!"

It's okay if you destroy me…I deserve it. I deserve it for not being able to save you…but please… wake up…

"She's as guilty as you are!" Rey snarled, then he turned to Shinn, "They betrayed the Chairman, they betrayed Zaft! They betrayed us! Are you going to let them live?!"

Athrun only shook his head, he would betray Dulliandal, he would betrayed Zaft, but…he knew he'll never betray Shinn; he'll never lift a finger against him.

Shinn is a friend.

And as if Shinn read his thoughts, he stopped. And Athrun realized Shinn was hesitating, and for a moment, he dared to hope. He dared himself to believe that Shinn had indeed heard his voice, he had indeed understood.

Meyrin held her breath as lightning flashed angrily across the sky.

"It's…" Shinn finally spoke, and Athrun could feel his heart skip a beat as he heard the rest of Shinn words. Dread filled him, consumed him.

"It's all your fault. It's all your fault for betraying us!!" With that he whipped out Excalibar. The Gouf defended itself.

Athrun felt completely detached from his surroundings, and the battle going on felt impersonal, even though his very life was at stake. It was almost surreal to watch as Destiny destroyed his shield, then chopped off an arm. He defended himself out of instinct and reflex, but there was not will in his actions, no thoughts in his movements. The boy was completely lost to him.

Destiny came nearer, and as it prepared to deal the finishing blow, Athrun would have sat there, stunned, not daring to breathe; if he had not remembered Meyrin was still there, screaming.

He managed to react only at the very last moment. He unclipped the safety belt from around his waist and unceremoniously yanked Meyrin towards him. And as the Excalibar stabbed through the wall of the cockpit he had enveloped her in a bear hug, she was still screaming, there was thunder in the sky. But none of that was as loud as the blaring pain that shot through his body. The flesh on his right arm and his spine had been sliced open by the cursed sword, which burnt right through his uniform. He could feel as well as smell the damaged and charred muscles; it smelt like barbeque, and he realized he would be cooked alive in the matter of minutes.

But everything is going well. Meyrin is alive and unharmed.

They were falling, and if his perception of heaven and earth still held, they will be falling into the ocean in a few seconds. In a hazy state of pain and panic, he managed to tell himself to redouble his grip around Meyrin, preparing to cushion the impact upon hitting the water surface.

Nothing could prepare him for this. As the suit hit the water surface, it was like hitting rock. And impact reverberated through the damaged cockpit, and the experience was akin to being a metal ball in a spray can. He was thrown in three different directions at once and hit his head twice. And on the final time, he felt something went snap in his chest, maybe a rib or two. A sharp cry escaped his lips, and for a moment he could not breathe.

He had no time to worry about that, the salt water started gushing into the cockpit. And in seconds it filled up high enough to lick his wounds, he almost fainted. Pain was everywhere; it was intense and excruciating.

He released his grip on Meyrin, wanting her to go on alone. He was probably not going to make it, but she still can.

Then he realized she was out cold.

Athrun would have cursed if he could still breathe. And he did, he held her to himself with his good left arm, and took a deep breath. Then submerged himself in the water, kicked his way out from the cockpit and swam free of the suit.

There was a light in front of him, and Athrun wondered if he was already dead without realizing it. He could no longer trust his senses, they were fading too fast. There was nothing but water around him, and he knew he could not reach the light even if he wanted to. His injured right arm was unresponsive, his left was wrapped around Meyrin, he could only swim with his legs and they were not fast enough for the air supply in his lungs to be able to last. Already his head was starting to spin from oxygen deprivation and blood loss.

Meyrin…I couldn't…save…

Then a force collided with his body from behind and propelled them forward towards the lights like rag dolls, it knocked the wind out from his lungs. A bellow of orange told him that the suit had exploded. Pieces of shrapnel embedded itself into his body like daggers, though he no longer knew where. But one thing good resulted from the explosion, the light was closer now.

Out of sheer willpower, he swam forward, struggling just to make progress with his battered body. Crimson threads floated eerily off the wound on his forehead, clouding his limited vision. And he started wondering if there were sharks in that region. He dragged the unconscious Meyrin with him, he had to be fast, there was a limit to how much water she can draw into her lungs before irreversible damage occurs; then she will never wake up.

When he was close enough, he realized it was a cave entrance. He crossed his fingers, and hoped that it was one of those with air, even just a little pocket. If not, they die. The cave was narrow and meandering upwards, and the walls were lined with something fluorescent. He was careful not to go nearer, the fluorescent revealed snakes, and he doubt he could handle even one now.

Finally, in front of him, he caught a glimpse of the water surface, a circular pool that led to light.

He drew a deep breath as he broke through the surface, his chest hurt. Quickly he dragged Meyrin onto the shore, then climbed up himself. The ground consisted of coarse, damp sand.

He pulled Meyrin up beside him, she was unresponsive as he called her name. And he realized in horror that she was not breathing anymore…

Quickly he flipped her onto her back, and with both hands pressed down repeatedly on her stomach. There was still no response after the first few times, he gritted his teeth, refusing to give up, he could not let Meyrin die.

She coughed, once, twice, then brought up more water.

When she was breathing again, Athrun had time to survey the damage, she was cut and bruised, but nothing deep, nothing life threatening. He on the other hand, was the direct opposite.

Blood drained from his shoulder, trickling down his right arm, and pooled around his wrist. It mixed with the salt water, and seeped into the sand, turning it an ugly shade of reddish-brown. It flowed from the wound on his forehead, and trickled into his eye. Strangely, strength suddenly departed from his body as relief washed over him. Finally, he collapsed.

He lay on his side, helpless, struggling to breathe. His chest heaved with each breath he drew, it felt constricted, suffocated. His breaths are coming in short, sharp rasps. And each caused the pain in his lungs to bite in deeper, he could only imagine what damage had been done to his lungs. He could no longer feel pain, only an unearthly chill that wrapped around his person, and he shivered. He could smell the ferrous liquid mixed with salt and other minerals. Nausea overcame him, and his vision blurred. In a distant, there was a rumbling of thunder.

He coughed, tasting blood in his mouth, the stabbing pain his chest started again and he let out a soft moan. He curled in on himself, attemping to stem the bleeding that had somehow sprouted from the lower part of his chest. His hand gingerly explored the terain, though it hurt to touch himself, and he realized that a broken rib had punch through flesh and protruded from his chest like a mutant worm. He was beginning to bleed profusely. The pain worsened to the point that made him want to scream, but he was denied even of that power. When he screamed, no sound came out.

Athrun began to wonder how long it will take him to die.

Kira.

Tears pooled in his eyes as he thought of his deceased friend, and he squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling for the tears to flow out; unwilling to show weakness in his final moments. His friend had been murdered in cold blood-by the one that Athrun had wanted to save.

Both of them are out of his reach now, in one way or another.

I'm sorry, Kira.

He realized it was getting harder and harder to breathe, but he forced himself to remain calm, even when he was gasping for air. His painful attempts to draw breath reverberated eerily around the empty cavern, and the terrible sounds were beginning to fade, just as he was. It was alright, at least he will probably get to see Kira soon. And join the gang who had passed on before him.

He allowed himself to sleep.

Then he heard the sound of a pebble hitting the sand.

Startled, for it might have been pursuers, he forced himself to open his eyes. Through his blurry vision, he realised that there was no one, no armed diver from within the pool coming to finish the job of killing them. Satisfied that there was no threat, he lay back down.

His gaze drifted, and landed myopically on the reddish-purple pendant that had slipped out of his collar and landed on a puddle of blood.

He bit his lip, tears overflowed.

Slowly, painstakingly, his willed his hand to crawl towards the pendant. It seemed almost impossible, for his hand no longer felt like his own, he could not move it. Athrun started gauging the distance in centimeters, trying to force himself to stay awake, trying to coax his arm to move.

Six, five, four…three, come on…two, one and a half. One more…

When his hand finally enclosed itself around the stone, he felt an odd and silly sense of achievement overcome him. And he wanted to congratulate himself.

Cagalli.

He had kept it hidden for a long time, especially from Cagalli. Because when Athrun found out about Yuna-her pseudo fiancé- he was no longer sure whether Cagalli still wanted him to have it. So he kept it always, concealed by collars or shirts; always near, always close to his heart, but never in Cagalli's line of sight.

Somehow he was afraid, that when Cagalli saw him wearing it, she will ask for it to be returned. Logically speaking, that should not bother him, for it was merely a piece of pretty rock. But for some reason, Athrun did not feel as if it was just a piece of rock, it felt far more important than that. Athrun knew he would be devastated if that day ever comes, the thought was practically inconceivable, and he dreaded the day when it might materialize.

He thought it will be nice if he could see her one more time, and confess to her his feelings, but he knew that it was a luxury to even be able to talk, much less get up and find her, it was an impossible task for him in this state.

So Athrun drew the pendant close to him once again, his tears fell silently onto the surface of the stone, washing the blood off the smooth surface. And he made a prayer to dream of her one last time.

His closed his eyes, and plunge headlong into darkness.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

I've always wanted to write about this scene where Athrun was being hunted down by Shinn and Rey. In 'The Edge', there were a lot of insights as to Athrun's feelings in facing death, and made good inspirational material for this story. For example, in the comic, he silently told Shinn as he sank into the ocean.

"When I heard your voice, you sounded like you were crying, and I feel even worst than you. You shouldn't be made to fight. Not like this. I…don't want to die yet…because I haven't…you……"

Great scene, and I hope that this chap did it justice. Review please XD, I think I'll write one or two more chapters as continuation. For the parts after that.

Ming