Not Your Fault

Summary: All that could be remembered was a wedding being engulfed by hells flames. AU, language

. . .

She laid there,unmoving, slowly breathing in and out, taking in the scents of sterilized objects. There was a quiet squeaking of a chair being pulled up and she allowed her eyes to open, not bothered by the bright lights illuminating the room.

Beside the bed was a green haired male in his later twenties. He looked exhausted, frustration lines pinching his forehead, dark bags under his eyes. Upon seeing her eyes open, he looked relieved and gave her a shaky smile.

"Hey there, how are you?" He kept his voice quite and leveled, as if he was afraid that if he spoke louder he would scare her off.

"I'm good," she whispered back and stared up at him with wide, curious eyes.

"Yeah?" He licked his lips nervously and reached out to grab a hold of her hands.

She flinched at first but allowed the contact, surprise evident on her face. He chuckled softly.

"How's your head?"

"My head?" She reached up and felt bandages wrapped around most of her head.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"I... remember there was a wedding. Someone was getting married. But then there was gun shots—a lot of them! Many people were screaming, running around. Then there was a huge explosion? I... " She bit her lip and looked away.

"Shhh, it's okay," he consoled her, rubbing a large hand on her shoulder. "We found you on the ground close to the explosion. It was your wedding."

"Mine?"

"Yes."

"Who was my fiancee?"

"... "

The male breathed in deeply, holding for five seconds before it came out in a rush. He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair with his brows pinched together.

She frowned at him before reaching out and placing her hand on his knee. "Were we going to get married?"

"Yes!" He smiled excitedly. "Do you remember?"

"Matching rings," she smiled sheepishly, pointing to their rings on their fingers.

His sudden enthusiasm died as quickly as it came.

"Did anything happen to you?" She asked, looking him up and down.

"Just a burn on my head." He took off the black cap he wore and bowed his head for her to see.

There was a little bald spot on his head, showing exactly where the white scare was. She reached out and touched the wound. He flinched and pulled back, placing the hat back on, his smile wry.

"What happened to me," she asked while pointing to her head.

"You... you got shot."

"Shot?" Her voice sounded so little, so fearful.

He nodded and swallowed thickly. "We—You and I, are assassins. But we were enemies after the same target. We captured you but I was responsible for you. We spent a lot of time together and I convinced you to change sides. All of us welcomed you with open arms. On our wedding day, the company you use to work for planned a coup de grâce that day. You were shot in the head. You lost your memories."

She was silent for the longest time, staring at him with a stoic face. But he could see the turmoil in her eyes, just like he always knew how to read her. He wanted to reach out and hug her, but didn't know how she would handle his touch.

"What do we do now?" She asked, her voice calm yet tears threatened to spill down her face.

"What do we do now? What do we—!" He suddenly yelled out in anguish and stood up. He picked up the chair and through it at the wall. "Why can't you remember, damn you? Fuck!"

"Why!" She suddenly yelled back, tears finally streaming. "Why! Why! Why!"

He felt anger evoke him. White flashes of madness. He began to punch the wall, opening fresh wounds on his knuckles.

Someone chose that moment to enter the room, a tall male wearing a white robe and glasses. "Mr. Harmonia, calm yourself at once."

"But she—she!"

"Enough. And Miss White you better calm yourself as well or else I'll have to sedate you again."

"Her last name is Harmonia!" He shouted.

"His name is Natural!"

"What?" The green hair male stared at her hard before shaking his head. "No, my name is N."

"It's Natural... Natural Harmonia."

"Are you so out of your mind that you're now hallucinating?"

"Why!" She cried out again and grabbed the ugly vase that sat innocently on the little night stand beside her bed and chucked it at her husband.

"Hey!" He yelled after ducking, the object smashing against the wall mere inches from his head.

"Miss White!" The other male yelled, finally reaching his limit and walked forward and grabbing his wrist before taking out a syringe from his pocket. "Calm yourself!"

"No! I hate this! I hate it!" She struggled halfheartedly.

"Mr. Harmonia?" He asked, glancing at the disheveled green haired male behind him.

"Do it."

The man in the lab coat turned the females arm around and poked her forearm with the syringe before injecting it's substance in her blood stream. Within moments she was relaxing, falling back against the bed and eye lids drooping.

"I love you, Touko," N came up to her side once again and whispered sweet nothings into her ear. "I'll love you always."

"Love... " She tried whispering back before finally closing her eyes.

"What are you going to do now, Mr. Harmonia?"

"I... I think it's best if we pulled the plug on her."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. I can't deal with it... I'm—I," he couldn't finish his sentence.

The other male nodded solemnly and walked over to the bedside where a bunch of machines were set up and hooked up to the still woman on the bed. Reaching down by the outlet, he took one last look at the broken male before unplugging the machines.

Everything went quiet.

N looked down at his wife's peaceful form one last time before a few male nurses came in and started to escort him out of the room. He struggled for a bit, wanting to look at his other half one last time but gave up and allowed himself to be dragged out.

"Oh geez," the other male sighed and walked over to Miss White's bedside, sitting down on the mattress.

He sat there for an hour, just thinking.

"Cheren," a voice croaked beside him.

"Hey, you're up," he turned until he was facing his old time friend, giving a small smile."

"How long was I out for?"

"About an hour?"

"Huh. Usually it's twenty minutes. You up'd the dose, why?"

"Because it was different this time. I thought he would come back."

"Oh."

"Anything to report on the situation?"

"I thought he was getting better," she whispered, closing her eyes and willed herself not to cry anymore. "He touched me for the first time in two years. I always was the one to initiate contact so when he held my hand, I believed he was starting to remember. But now he can't even remember his full name."

"He's getting worse."

"Yes."

They were silent for the longest time, both lost within their own thoughts.

"I'm still wondering why he thinks I'm the one that got shot in the head. Everything he believes happened is the exact opposite," Touko mumbled angrily. It was her company that welcomed him with open arms. Sitting up, she reached up to rip the bandages off her head and felt the scarred skin behind her ear where she got burnt.

"The mind is a mysterious thing. The bullet did hit close to where he stores memories."

"I know," she whispered harshly and began pulling out all of the IV's from her hands and wrists. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this up, Cheren. It's killing me to go through this over and over again."

"I know it is, Touko. Every time is different and we just get such high hopes that he will remember again but it's always one step forward, a hundred fucking steps back." Cheren breathed out roughly and felt his robes for his cigarettes. He's going to need them soon.

"Just a couple more times, Cheren. That's all. When his mind resets back, call me and I'll come here as soon as I can. But after the next few times, tell him that I died, that the 'bullet' killed me instantly, I lost too much blood, something." She stood and ripped the hospital gown off her, a black t-shirt and shorts hiding underneath.

"Understood," he muttered and stood as well. "But isn't it a little cruel? Giving up like this?"

"I've been doing this for over two years, Cheren. He has been too, but doesn't know it. But tell me which is crueler. He gives up after 'one' visiting session with me or that he wants the plug pulled."

"He's not as strong as you. He wasn't raised... normal."

"I know. but you don't know how much it hurts every time he agrees with you pulling the plug. I'm leaving now. Tell the others to take care of him at the center. See you... whenever."

She walked forward, ignoring the waves from the nurses that became to familiar with them being around often.

Cheren sighed and headed down another hallway, planning on returning the robe he borrowed from one of the doctors.

The count down till N's mind resets? Two months and six days.

Touko knows. She's been counting. It's always been two months and six days. It wasn't nearly enough time to mend her broken heart but she wouldn't blame him.

'It's not your fault.'

. . .

A/N: Just something I've wanted to write for awhile. [As in a week, pfft].

It miiiiight have the potential to become a full chapter story, starting from the beginning, when both Touko and N were enemies. I don't know! Tell me your thoughts. C: