A/N: This fanfic is written for my friend. You know who you are. I know, I know, Kakera turned into a complicated G27 thing for some reason, so here's your 1827 fanfic. It's AG, so that's close enough, right? Your one-name challenge has been completed as well!

Please enjoy, everyone, and thank you for reading. I had fun writing this, even if I did end up spending more time than I had originally thought on it. I hope you'll have fun reading.

- x -

DROWNING IN YOU

CHAPTER 1

The wind was cruel.

It cut through his clothing and hit his bare skin like a thousand needles, boring the pain and icy coldness down into his flesh. It brought tears unshed to sting at his eyes and the painful sting of truth to resonate within him. It was the first and the last, the past and the present, the future and the "what-if"s.

You. Only you.

From afar, he could see the mansion that had housed so much for him. People, family, friends, and the emotions that had accompanied them. G. Oh, no. He hoped his right-hand man wouldn't break down. It had to be done, even if G wasn't fully supportive of it. Ugetsu would take it in well, and Knuckle as well. His features softened as he thought of Lampo. He was still a child inside. Still growing, maturing. But he would never see Lampo truly grow up now. Even Daemon Spade, who caused quite a bit of trouble, was worth it. He and Elena... it was beautiful. Much more beautiful than anything he could ever be.

His thoughts suddenly lurched towards him.

"Come with me, Alaude." He reached forward, palm open in a beckoning gesture. But still he wouldn't come. He was always the same. Always distant. Out of reach. Impossible to touch.

"No."

Despite the reply, their eyes met again. They say that eyes are the windows to one's soul, but why couldn't he never gasp his? "Please, Alaude. Can you just consider it?"

"Never." He turned away again, towards the darker end of the alleyway. "I don't need shackles binding me."

Shackles.

He had talked about them so often. How he disliked being confined, restricted. How he was his own man, free to do whatever he willed. No matter how he tried to convince the stubborn man, he wouldn't give in. It was hopeless. Alaude, the aloof cloud... it stuck. He was never part of the family. But he wasn't associated with anyone else in the same way. And before he knew it...

A cold, empty laugh escaped him, one that turned into a hacking cough and had him down on his knees and seeing nothing but the clear water below him for a few minutes. He had been a fool. An utter fool-nothing else. Mafia boss or not, he was still an uneducated peasant when it came to those matters. Yes. Why had he even gone that far in the past? It was... it was foolish. He had been digging a deep grave for himself without knowing it. But it was too late now. It was all over. Cool water seeped into his shoes, soaking his socks. It licked at the hem of his black pants and rose steadily higher as he stood up again. The smell of sea salt assaulted his nose and when he closed his eyes, it came back, surging over him. The water. The smell. The feeling of water caressing his skin. But even this clear water wouldn't be enough to clean him. He was guilty. Dirty. Defiled. Repulsive.

It would never be enough.

"I love you."

The words escaped from him like water from a spring, originating from a deep source inside. He had let it flow out of him without warning, without stopping. He hadn't thought of the effects or consequences of his actions. Impulse drove him like it had never before. Bloodstained fingers clenched around the fabric of the coat, causing the handcuffs to clink. "Don't leave me, Alaude." The name, whispered like the vows of a pair of sinful lovers, slipped from his lips. Alaude. He had became more than just the simple guardian. He was so much more. So much more than before, so much more than he was supposed to be.

"I'm not." Was the sharp reply from the platinum-blonde man. "I'm your supposed wild card, aren't I?"

He wondered if Alaude even understood the magnitude of the words that he had just spoken Of what he had just let go from inside, of how he let that weakness escape from himself. No. Was the man this cold? This unforgiving, this ... irresistible? Why, out of all people, did he have to fall in love with Alaude? And now, he had no one to blame but himself

A new rain of blood swept the ground as he blacked out.

The water rose. And rose. And rose still again. He shivered as the water caressed at his thighs, soaking in through the material of his pants and then his underwear. The water was undeniably cold. Cool and calm as it surrounded him, bit by bit. He knew that it would eventually be enough to swallow him, to engulf him whole. It was only a matter of time. A wry smile tugged at his lips, and he shivered as the cold water grazed his fingers. How nostalgic. How many years ago had all of this been?

It didn't matter anymore.

He had drank too much that night again. It seemed like most of these parties included alcohol, which he had yet to learn how to hold in yet. As much as he wished that he could just stay home from such events, it was hard for him as the boss to put off such invitations. There was the entire etiquette business, of course, and then there was the fact that alcohol helped loosen some of the other familigas' mouths quite a bit. Even so... he wished that he could be like G and actually hold in his alcohol well. How come things never worked out when he actually got drunk?

Through his drunken haze, he could tell that he was moving. Moving. Well, something or someone was carrying him, and whatever he was, he wasn't being too gentle about it. He groaned and covered his mouth as a wave of nausea swept over him. Where were they going? Home? Well, if he could even call that place home. Sometimes, it felt like a prison. "Mmm... gonna be sick..." he muttered.

"Don't do it on my coat. I had it dry-cleaned the other week."

There was another lurch and a wave of sickness came over him as he tried to keep everything in his stomach. He let out another groan of pain. It wasn't working. And Alaude wasn't exactly giving him five-star treatment by swinging him over one shoulder and walking at such a brisk pace. "C-Can't, I'm going to-"

He heard a string of curses and then his blurred vision swirled before his eyes as he felt solid ground beneath his feet again and a pair of hands guide him along. Bright lights burned his retina, and he groaned again before the hands forced him into a kneeling position. "Get on with it.

He didn't need much encouragement to heave whatever was left in his stomach into the toilet.

When his vision cleared a bit, he saw that it was Alaude who was standing by the doorway of the bathroom with a rather dangerous scowl on his face. Oh... was it he who had brought him back? "... I thought G..."

Alaude gave a scoff in reply as he watched the drunk man head to the sink wobbily to wash his mouth.

Alcohol seemed to change a lot of things for him. One minute, things made sense, then in another, nothing did. He only recalled getting to his feel shakily after washing out his mouth one moment, and then practically collapsing into Alaude in another as a fit of giggles erupted from him. "Alaude... Alaude..." Even through his fogged vision he could see the confusion in his blue irises.

"You really are drunk, aren't you?" Supporting arms prevented him from falling flat onto his face as he smiled into the material of Alaude's shirt and shook his head. He wasn't drunk. Not quite. He was dreaming, wasn't he? Surely he was.

"Help me to bed."

The next thing he remembered was the feeling of his back hitting the soft bedding in his bedroom as Alaude's scent invaded him entirely. Hands running on impulse and desire ran over soft skin, lips bound unspoken words together, and the warmth that invaded his body was all that he could remember.

Tears streaked down his face as the water ran ever higher. Waves tickled at his stomach like the fingertips that had caressed there so long ago. The dragged him down like chains, and he was starting to lose his balance, his sense or reality. Had this all been in his head? It didn't matter anymore as the water crept up, rushing by the soft skin of his neck and jaw. There had been so much that he hadn't finished. So much he hadn't gotten done, so much he hadn't said. The water choked him, bringing back the hacking coughs almost immediately as he struggled for air. But his clothes weighed him down. They were soaked through, and now grabbed at his body like greedy hands waiting to drag him down into the abyss with them. The cold water invaded his nose and then seeped into his lungs, where they burned like the fire that he had found with him himself so long ago. But this time it hurt. There was pain. Pain everywhere.

When he opened his eyes, he saw only red.

Sunlight streaked through the white curtains in his room as the cool morning air made its way through the large French windows. A pounding headache served as his alarm clock, and when he got up, there was a strange feeling of detachment about him. The source made itself obvious a minute later as he took in the scattered clothing around him.

Alaude was already gone. Last night now existed only in his memories.

His hands struggled above the surface, trying to grab onto something. Anything. His screams were merely bubbles making itself to the surface of the bloodred water, and the splashes were muffled. He was utterly alone. Alone in the sense of the word.

The sea came and washed everything away as if nothing had been there before.