Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own this twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine, or you need to watch again. (Grin) (No one that I own appears in this chapter, though.)

Re-Visions

Chapter 1

Hitomi sat on her bed, knees pulled up to her chin, arms wrapped around her legs. Her room was dark. It was well past midnight, yet she couldn't sleep. She stared blankly at the opposite wall, then closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her knees.

What time was it on Gaea? What time in Fanelia?

How long had it been?

I'm doing all right, she had whispered to her vision of Van, just the other day. She had been- then. She had not lied to him.

She could not say the same now.

How long had she been home before she discovered the shining link with him still existed? It had been a long time, nearly a year. One night, not too long ago, she'd been almost this lonely. Suddenly, she blinked and was with him, in his mind. That's when she noticed the silvery thread.

He, too, had been feeling sad. She'd smiled, and tried to fill his mind with happier thoughts, startling him.

She was comforted by her visions with him, when they talked. When she couldn't see him like that, she was comforted by her thoughts of him, her memories. She had thought that would have been enough. She thought that her brief visions and their short half conversations would be enough. But they were not. She loved him, and wanted to see him, more than she could say. At times it was almost more than she could bear. Like now.

She felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she looked up again. Was that a stirring, just at the edge of her senses? Was it he, touching her mind again? "Van . . .?"

No. There was a slight breeze through her open window. It ruffled the curtain, tickling the back of her neck. Bringing her the scent of an open field.

This was not the first night she'd had like this, but it was the first one that had been this lonely. She was too full of her memories of him to sleep. She felt the pressure of tears prickling in her eyes, and tried to stop them unshed. She had been so connected to him in that last battle that she had known his pain- could he feel hers now? She hoped not. She didn't want him to know how much she hurt . . .

He had wanted her to stay, but had not tried to keep her. There was an old saying, and now she wondered if they had it on Gaea, too. If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it was never meant to be. Did he . . . love her?

He'd known how much she missed her family. He had been torn from his own so early, she knew he sympathized with her plight. He'd even sworn he'd get her back home somehow. Even if it no longer felt like home anymore . . .

Could I have been happy there? she wondered. I . . . I think so.

Would I go back if I could? I don't know. It would be hard . . . so hard to leave everything I know . . . everyone . . .

Finally giving in to the tears, she laid back, letting them soak into her pillow. She pressed a hand to her chest, hoping to still the hard ache within. She formed an image of him in her mind- slim, wiry body, dark flyaway hair, hanging into his eyes, those deep, intense eyes- and managed to smile through her tears.

"I miss you."

***

Van Fanel, king of Fanelia, had everything he wanted.

At least, he thought, everything I said I wanted.

He looked down upon the few flickering lights in his city from the glade in which Escaflowne slept. His city was slowly rebuilding. That brought him no small measure of pride. Zaibach was defeated. Gaea was slowly recovering from the backlash of the power of Atlantis. What was there left to want?

His eye was drawn to the Mystic Moon, high in the sky.

He had climbed up here at dusk, needing to be alone. It was full night now, and the Mystic Moon glowed a brilliant blue against the stars. He covered her pendant with his hand. "Hitomi . . ."

Just yesterday, holding the pendant, he had heard her voice, whispering his name. He'd turned, half expecting to see her behind him, smiling gently. She wasn't there. Ghostly words on the wind reached his ear. "I'm doing all right." He could even hear the faint smile in her tone. He hoped she was thinking of him.

There was hardly a moment when she wasn't in his thoughts. He'd found that even when he worked himself into exhaustion, he often couldn't sleep for thinking about her. At least the hard work he took on helped to distract him, and made the pain easier to take . . . if only slightly.

As long as our thoughts reach each other, I said. I didn't know then that every time our thoughts touched, I'd feel the pain of her leaving all over again . . . But seeing her, knowing it was only for a little while, was better than not seeing her at all.

She often came to him in his mind- her actual presence, not just his thoughts of her. Their brief contact would sustain him for a while, but he always grew morose and short tempered after they parted again.

He sat down in the grass, damp and cool, still gazing at the Moon. For an instant, he wondered again if there was something he could have said, or said differently, that might have persuaded her to stay.

I could have told her I love her . . . He lay back onto the grass and folded his arms under his head. But how could she not have known? How . . .

He could almost imagine Allen's vaguely mocking response to the unasked question. Sometimes, Van Fanel, a woman just wants to be told. She can see it in your actions, and know it in her mind, but for her to feel it in her heart, she needs to hear the words. Is that what she wanted? Van wondered. If I would have told her, she might have stayed . . . But she missed her family so much . . .

He felt a raindrop against his cheek. He tore his eyes away from the Mystic Moon, and glancing around, saw with some confusion that there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The pendant was warm beneath his shirt, but now he felt it growing hot. "Hitomi?" He closed his eyes. Was she trying to touch him now, so late?

She was there. He could see her, her light brown hair drifting in a breeze he didn't feel. One hand was pressed to her breast, the other at her side, palm toward him. He was surprised to see the tears gliding down her cheeks, to feel the unexpected pain in her as if it was his own. He could see that she was smiling despite her quiet sobs. Van . . . She bent forward a little, and reached out to him. I miss you . . .

"Hitomi," he breathed. "I miss you, too . . ." He sat up, opening his eyes, and stretched out his hand. She was still there, against the backdrop of the stars, so close, transparent fingers almost touching his, then she was fading, gone.

He blinked at the sudden pain in his chest, and mimicked her gesture, pressing one hand against his breastbone. It subsided only slowly, and he recognized it all too well. He had first felt it when he had seen Allen kissing Hitomi, and it had only grown when Allen had told him he'd asked her to marry. Finally, it had settled in to stay when he had sent her home. He closed his eyes again, hand now clasped around her pendant.

Desolation. Loneliness. Despair.

Love.

She had wanted to stay. Why did I send her back? Why?

What would have happened if we had touched?