another cyborg 009 fanfic! there isn't really a big point, i just shoved all my angsty ideas into one place. |D

Warnings: 42 (jet/albert), angst, light mention of burns, spoilers for 2001 anime ending, cursing, mentions of death and self-hate

Everyone knew a lot of things pissed off Jet Link. He couldn't stand when people put his stuff in different places, under the guise of "cleaning up". He completely hated waiting around for something to come to him, instead of running after it full-force. It enraged him when he was treated like a whining brat who just needed time to cool down. Of course, he was irritated by running around all the time, trying to fight off an enemy so large they couldn't see the end of it. Of course he despised having body parts blown off and painful wounds, but those were practically a given.

What nobody knew was that he really, truly abhorred nighttime.

For quite possibly the hundredth time that night, his eyes flickered open. Darkness pressed up around him, hot and suffocating. He kicked his covers off of his overheated skin, trying to get some air. Feeling the cotton pooling around his feet, he gratefully pressed his head into the pillow. A few minutes passed, his heavy eyes closing, finally he could get some sleep—

A chill wracked his body, forcing him to blearily reach for the blankets. Barely any time had passed before he was hot again, and this time he gave a groan of frustration, pressing his warm hands to his eyes.

"Fuck," he muttered. Bitter anxiety turned his stomach—why the hell can't I sleep, it's probably for the best, if I sleep I might dream again, but I need to sleep or else everyone might ask questions—as he desperately tried to ignore how quiet it was.

You're not scared of sleeping alone, are you? His damnable conscious taunted. Do you need a night light?

"I need you to shut the hell up," he mumbled into the green cushion. "Ugh, what time is it?"

Maybe if you quit talking to yourself, you'll fall asleep faster.

Incomprehensible grumbles passed through his lips as he fumbled around for his digital clock. The bright red display efficiently informed him that it was two in the morning. He resisted the urge to slam the device back on his bedside desk, instead carefully placing it down. The end result was an odd attempt to be aggressive yet quiet at the same time.

An idea formed in his irritated, exhausted mind. Maybe some water will help me fall asleep. Although at this point, there really isn't a reason to try…by the time I fall asleep, I'll be waking up…

Despite the internal argument, he threw his covers off once more and sat up. He blinked twice, yawning, and ran a hand through his hair. His fingers caught painfully on the tangles and he winced before finally pushing himself up.

What little light was left in the room fizzled as his vision tunneled; he closed his eyes against the head rush and continued forward, feeling around the room in an attempt to reach the door.

After some fumbling, his hand finally connected with the lukewarm doorknob. He sighed in a mixture of exasperation, exhaustion, and anger.

Light filtered into the room as the door slid open. He yawned again as he stepped out, the light of the moon outside making the small area an eerie blue color. As he stepped forward, he made out a shadow by the kitchen counter.

"What the hell?" he asked, squinting. "004? What're you doing up so late?"

There wasn't a response. He felt a spike of worry as he slowly stepped further. It was 004, alright, leaning against the counter, arms folded, gaze fixed on the wall in front of him. He seemed like he was in a trance, buried in his thoughts.

"004?" Jet repeated. Albert started, head shooting up and his eyes locking on Jet. 002 felt a shiver go through him at his silver gaze.

"002? What're you doing up so late?" Albert asked, effectively mimicking Jet's earlier words.

"I couldn't sleep." 002 shrugged and moved for the fridge. "Now, your turn. Why are you just standing there and glaring at the wall?"

Again, there wasn't a response. Jet turned around expectantly, waiting for him to say something, but Albert had just turned his eyes back to the floor.

"Did you hear me?" Jet pressed, starting to get irritated.

"Yeah," 004 responded absent-mindedly, not moving his gaze.

"Okay, so are you going to answer?"

Apparently not, as there was yet again no response. Jet huffed, unsure whether to be creeped out or annoyed.

"'Kay, whatever, fine. Don't, then." Jet whipped back to the fridge, opening the door and hunting for a glass. "But seriously, you aren't doing anything out here, are you? Did you come to get water or something?"

"No," came the short, curt reply. Another odd spike of irritation flashed through him.

"Then why'd you come out here?! Come on, just answer. I'll leave you alone. Seriously, you're up at two AM, and you're just standing there all quiet, and you expect me to just waltz up and be like 'how's it going' and be on my way? 004? Say something, would y—"

"Would you quit talking so much?" Albert interrupted sharply, his head swiveling up and fixing on Jet's face. His eyes were enraged, his lips pulled tight. Jet immediately backed off, opening his mouth to respond, but Albert kept going.

"Who cares? Yeah, I expect you to just leave me alone. Just…leave me alone. I don't need you to bother me. Just get your water, or whatever, and—"

"Calm down, 004, I was just wondering. Geez, you're so jumpy and weird today, it's a little creepy."

"Please," Albert said icily, a strange note of desperation creeping into his voice. "Please just leave me alone."

"Can you explain yourself first? Why do you want me to leave you alone? Is…is something wrong? If something's endangering the team, then I want to kn—!"

Without any warning whatsoever, a tear dripped down Albert's cheek. There was a short pause, and then more tears following, streaming down his face. The instant Jet noticed them, his eyes widening in shock, 004's eyes shot right back down to the floor, his flesh hand reaching up to cover his face.

"Please," he repeated softly. Jet froze like a deer in the headlights; he had certainly not expected this outcome. Was 004, the stoic, level-headed cyborg who always reigned him back in when he was off on another one of his explosive tangents crying in front of him?

"Oh. Oh. Ohhhkay, um. I'll…" Jet fumbled, stuck in his mind. One part desperately wanted to run for the hills, to ignore this ever happened. The other part had a overwhelming urge to help him, to stop the tears. "I'll. I'll! Wait, no. Um. Why are you crying? Hey, uh, I'm not leaving you here. Shit. Are you okay?"

Jet swore he heard a grumbled "dandy" from under Albert's hand, but there was no way to be sure.

"Please. If it was…me, I'm, uh. Sorry. I…shit, are you alri—okay, what, 004? What—"

"002," Albert pleaded. "I'm fine. Just…please, leave me alone. I'm fine…" Immediately after those words, his breath sputtered out, used up by an ugly sob. "Shit. Leave me alone, please."

Albert then swiftly turned around, hand still held up to his face, and began walking away. Without thinking, Jet reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Please tell me what's wrong," Jet begged softly.

"It's none of your—" the words broke off as Albert lost his restraint. His breath skipped around, partly from the crying and partly from panic as he struggled to get away from Jet's grip.

"Albert," Jet pleaded, hardly noticing his use of the cyborg's real name.

The other cyborg was still trying to pull away, gasping harshly, turning around to add more force. Jet then caught the sight of his face; red, miserable, and afraid.

"Let me go," he begged. "I don't need you to comfort me, just let me go."

Jet ignored the way those words stung and pulled Albert towards the couch.

"I'm not leaving you behind," he growled under his breath. In the icy silence of the main room, excluding Albert's muffled cries, the words were louder than expected. He sat Albert on the couch, who finally pulled his hand free from Jet and used it to cover up the rest of his face. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and began talking.

"S-she died today," he gasped, barely comprehensible from under his hands and his sputtering breath. "Today…so long ago, I wish I—could tell her I'm sorry, it was all my fault…"

"004? What're you talking about?" Jet asked, sitting down next to him. "Who died?"

"Hilda," he whispered, and Jet had to lean in to hear him. "I hate it…I hate it…I hate it so much, why do I have to go on when she has to—to stay behind…"

Hilda. The name did ring a bell, albeit a warning one. He recalled a very vague, hazy memory filled with pain and confusion and that name…

I'll be joining you soon, Hilda…

And then he'd fired the gun, even though he was nearly paralyzed.

Hilda.

A golden ring, snapped off it's chain, sparkling in the setting sun as it flew through the air.

The pieces slowly started to come together, and when Jet leaned back to see the whole picture, his heart dropped. He stared at the curled-up ball of Albert in front of him, still trying to stop the tears.

"It's okay, 004," Jet murmured. "You don't have to hold back. It's for the better, if you let it out at once." He didn't mention learning that from experience; it was already implied.

"Myself," Albert rambled, as if he hadn't heard Jet. "I hate myself. It's all my fault. I'm the one…who drove her into—!"

"It's not your fault," 002 soothed. "I bet."

Immediately after saying that he wanted to slap himself. I bet? Great job there, buddy. You know 004 would never kill someone he loved. Right?

"You bet, huh? Yeah, you weren't there, you wouldn't…you wouldn't know her. Or me. I hate it. I can't feel anything, I'm a weapon, I'll just kill more and more…" his words dissolved into incomprehensible cries as he finally let go. The wailing noise, even muffled, sent spikes driving into Jet's heart.

"H-hey," 002 spluttered, trying to do something to help. "Um. Well, things'll get better! Time heals, or, helps, I guess. And I bet she never even blamed you! She probably wants you to live your life happily! She's glad you're alive, probably, I mean—" Jet stopped there. Even to him, his words sounded phony, and he didn't know how to fix it. Albert kept crying, Jet didn't know what to do, and he found himself being completely helpless. Again. His fists balled up and he felt that familiar rage rise up when he was caught in a standstill with nothing to do. He had to help, there had to be a way he could do something.

"I understand," he began. "I understand how it feels to think, no, to know you're a weapon, and you aren't fully human, and you can hurt the people you love." Now that the words had begun, he couldn't stop them from spilling out of him lips. "I understand how it feels to want to curl up and stop existing because you can't even breathe and I know how it feels to hate yourself with everything you have and I understand how it feels to just start crying, and crying, and feeling even worse because you have to pretend everything is fine in the morning." Jet immediately clamped his mouth shut, not wanting any more words to go through. He'd already said too much. Way too much.

He was so bewildered by himself he'd scarcely noticed Albert looking up, hands gone from his eyes.

"You…what?" Albert asked, his voice raspy and thick.

"I. I what? I don't know." Jet answered, and returned a shaky smile. "Sorry. It's two in the morning and I'm a mess."

Albert gave a strange, self-depreciating laugh. "Same," he breathed, wiping his eyes. He drew in a shaky breath. "Jet, I had no idea…"

"Don't start worrying about me. I'm fine."

The man in front of him met his eyes, raising an eyebrow. His face was red and puffy, yet still somehow held that sardonic look. "S-same thing I just said…and look at me. Actually, don't. Just. Ugh."

Jet gave an unsure, shaky laugh, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Yeah. Ugh. I have no clue what I'm doing. What time is i—!"

As if without thinking, Albert pitched forward and wrapped his arms around Jet's waist. Jet spluttered in confusion, staying completely still, his body trembling at the sudden contact.

"I'm sorry," Albert murmured into Jet's shirt. It took all of Jet's self-control to not flinch away from the touch, and as such he couldn't find a good response. "I'm sorry for bothering you…I tried to keep it together this time, but every year…every year it's so hard to handle…usually I can do it, but this time…it was worse…"

"Don't apologize," Jet replied, carefully hugging the other cyborg back. "It's not your fault. It happens."

"It was worse," Albert continued, as if he hadn't heard, "because this time I dreamed. I don't…I don't dream on these nights. I either can't sleep or I just wake up and I'm screaming or crying and I don't know why. But this time…I dreamed."

"What did you dream about, Albert?" Jet asked gently. This, to his confusion, made Albert's grip tighten as if the question had agitated him.

"I…I dreamed that you died." he spoke so quietly Jet could only rely on the vibrations he felt from the words to decipher them. "I dreamed that you burned to death…that you landed and it was so bad that you didn't even have flesh left."

"Landed?" Jet echoed, stunned that Albert would have a nightmare; about him, of all people, and be so affected by it.

"Oh. I…don't know. I remember having the sense you landed somewhere. Crashed. From a flying accident, maybe."

Jet squeezed the shivering cyborg back. "Well, it was just a dream. I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't say that for sure." the response was regretful; he truly wanted to believe in Jet's false certainty.

"I can. I'm not gonna die for a long time, I promise."

Albert tightened his grip even more. A promise, looked at logically, wouldn't change the fact that Jet could die at any moment in time. However, at this time where the whole world felt slowed-down and sleepy, 004 decided to put his faith into those words.

As Albert finished wringing out whatever tears were left in him, Jet stroked his hair and stared out the window. The sky was a beautiful deep blue, accented by sprinkles of stars and shaded with purple.

"…Albert, look," Jet breathed. "It's a shooting star."

"Huh?" Albert mumbled, still with his face buried in Jet's chest.

"Quick, before it goes away!"

Albert blearily looked up, blinking to clear his eyes; and there it was, a streak of white slashing the sky.

"Did you make a wish?" Jet couldn't help but ask. He didn't usually believe in silly things like that, but right now, it was better than silence and the feeling of Albert crying into his uniform.

"No," Albert murmured. "Didn't have time."

"Make one now, then. I bet the star won't mind that you were late," 002 teased. Albert looked back up at the sky and paused, then looked back down, a small smile on his face.

"What'd you wish for?" Jet asked curiously after a beat.

"Something I've been wanting as of late," 004 replied vaguely. Jet pouted.

"Well, okay, what have you been wanting, then?"

"I'll tell you eventually."

"Eventually when?"

Albert gave a small smile at Jet's impatience. "When we beat Black Ghost. Does that sound fair?"

Jet whined. "That could take a few more years! C'mon, tell me."

"Didn't you know telling ruins the magic? You should be glad I'm willing to tell you at all," Albert teased. "And as for how long it'll take, well, then you just have to remember to ask me. And what about you, 002? What'd you wish for?"

"Huh? Me?" Jet seemed confused. "I didn't wish for anything. I don't believe in that stuff."

004 raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine, I might've wished for something. But I'm not telling you my wish until you tell me yours!"

"Fair enough," Albert chuckled. Jet was about to respond, but his words were intercepted by a huge yawn.

"We should get back to bed," Jet mumbled, rubbing his eyes. To his credit, Albert nodded and kept a passive face, but Jet kept careful attention to him and spotted his signs of discomfort.

"We can stay on the couch, if you want," Jet offered.

Albert shrugged, seeming impassive, but he couldn't keep the light from his eyes.

This time, when Jet curled up next to 004, he fell asleep right away.

The heat was unbearable as he and Joe hurtled closer and closer to Earth's crust. He forced himself to curl around Joe; maybe if he shielded him enough, there would be some flesh left.

I'm ready, Jet told himself, over and over. He knew it was the truth, but it hurt so bad he had to keep a constant reminder going.

Joe hadn't answered when he'd asked where he wanted to fall. It wasn't as if Jet could control it, anyway. Besides, what could he answer? "Near our friends" would be understandable, but Joe was too compassionate to just decide to crash in front of the eyes of his family. "Away from them" would be the other obvious choice, but the thought of their group searching for them for hours and finally stumbling across the wreck…it was a tough question, and not one Joe could answer while panic riddled his brain.

Jet felt dulled grief as his body heated up further and further. He felt crushing pains inside his body as the metal heated up, small devices beginning to short-circuit.

Joe said something, yet it came out as strangled Japanese. His translator had stopped working. It wouldn't be long until the rest of him was broken too.

The rest of me…things in my head…

With a jolt, Jet realized that there was still a way he could deliver his final words.

"The communicator," he tried to gasp, but to Joe it would just be English and not to mention his throat was so dry the words wouldn't even come out.

There was no time. Jet closed his eyes and turned on his communicator, blasting out his brainwaves as far as he could manage. He was so focused on getting the signal as far as he could that he couldn't even customize it; if his friends received the message, it would just be a tangle of his thoughts.

That'll have to be good enough, Jet thought as he finally felt his consciousness slipping away. They'll understand.

"Joe!"

Albert started at Françoise's scream. Tears were falling down her cheeks as she repeated his name, her eyes focused somewhere in the sky. An awful feeling curled his stomach as he frantically searched the heavens for some sign that his friends were alright.

Everyone waited hopefully, even though Françoise's muffled cries out were proof enough that there was no hope. Silence settled as the news sunk in.

Then there was an awful, screeching buzzing of static filling Albert's head. He gasped in pain and clapped his hands over his ears, and he was dimly aware of the others doing the same.

It was a message, Albert could tell. The tone of it was full of pain yet it was lucid and calm. Words were mixed together, and it wasn't really even comprehensible; image after image filled Albert's eyes. One caught his mind's eye in particular; a picture of himself, curled up on the couch, mouth slightly open. He was asleep.

And then it hit him like a freight train.

"Jet," Albert gasped weakly. "He sent us one last dispatch." his heart dropped to his stomach and panic started welling up in his body. He felt so dazed that he almost missed the single strand of coherent thought that Jet had sent him.

What did Albert wish for?

Another wave of dizziness washed over him at those words. His last thought…was of me? My stupid wish? He took a deep breath and switched on his mental communicator. Considering he didn't know Jet's location, he'd have to broadcast his message all the way out, and everyone would hear it.

I don't care, he thought savagely. I don't care. It doesn't matter.

004 took a deep breath and with everything he had, screamed in his mind. I wished that you would be okay, and I hoped that you loved me back.

At those "words", the remaining 00 cyborg's gazes switched to him in shock. It doesn't matter, he thought once more, as he searched the sky with his eyes, desperately waiting for a response.

There was none.

"…You promised," Albert whispered, then closed his eyes and cried like he meant it.