Disclaimers: I Don't own Gundam wing or any of its characters. I do own the plot and story.

Rating: R

Pairings: 2x1

Warnings: AU...very AU. Angst. Death. Vampires.

Type: One Shot

Status: Unbetaed

Zetsu Ai <Cruel Love>

~ Enfold me in your feathered wings, pristine white dipped in blood.

For I cannot sleep at night unless I’m surrounded by your cruel love ~

So you don’t believe in vampires? That’s fine neither do I, but I believe in the vampirism of the Ellowynish gentry. How could I not when I have been raised as Lord Shinigami’s pet for the past seventeen years of my life? His was the first face I saw upon waking and the last that watched me as I lay my head down for night.

They tell me now the wars are over and the human race has won. They say my freedom is assured and I no longer have reason to fear. They don’t understand why I laugh at their foolish bravado.

They say they have killed him and assure me no one can overcome death. They whisper that he can no longer hurt me; they aren’t the ones who hear his voice in every whisper and see his silhouette clinging to my shadows. They refuse to see why I flinch from even the slightest of friendly touches.

They can’t feel the icy fear that trickles down my spine at that touch, they don’t have my memories of other…ones whose flesh have been flayed from their bones layer by layer as they screamed till their throats bleed from the strain. They never heard that all too familiar sound echoing in the back of their consciousness reminding them to never let another touch Shinigami’s property.

They see my unscarred body and assume he has scarred my mind with his cruelty. He has but not with cruelty. He was the one who always saved me from my self destructive tendencies. He was the one who healed me when I cut to deep. I was the only one he showed kindness to Ellowynish or Human.

I was there by his side, head rested against his thigh as I kneeled on the cushion next to his throne as he did his daily cruelty. I never got use to it. I understood on some level he would have to be stopped one day for the human race to survive. That still didn’t make it any easier. The nurses hear me scream at night and don’t understand I’m not screaming at the image of him that haunts my dreams, I’m screaming for him. I need him in my life as much as I need air to live.

I was never scared when I was with him. I understood that he would protect me always. My earliest childhood memories are of him. I think I was two at the time so I remember feelings in a fragmented way more then actual events. I had been riding with him for some reason. Back then I was to young for him to introduce to his crueler side. I remember clinging to the warmth of his body as the wind blown snow burned my nape through the warm fur cape he had wrapped around us both. I remember wanting to go home so badly but not wanting to disappoint him so I stayed quiet, then the sting of pierced flesh and the pain that stole my voice away. The scream of rage echoing beneath my ear as I slumped against him.

It had been an assaination attempt but I had gotten in the way of the silver tipped arrow, it hadn’t even grazed him. I blacked out but arose untouched. They found the would-be assassin easily and my beloved master kept that girl…I believe her name was Hilde …alive for months to punish her. He personally hunted down and killed everyone involved in that plot, their families and friends too. In the end he had destroyed an entire planet for a few peoples mistake. Shinigami was always so cold in his anger and methodical in his rage.

I hadn’t found out about any of that till years after the fact. I didn’t understand, I still don’t understand why some lives are believed to be worth more then others. Why did he make the rivers run red? Was it for me? I recovered. Or was it for him? Was his pride so damaged because someone got close enough to try to kill him?

When they finally succeeded in killing him it was a team effort. Some say he was staked, others claim he was shot four hundred and thirty-six times. One girl who stays in the room across the hall had assured at me that he was burned alive in an exploding building. That stupid bitch believed it would get here on my good side. That Relena… I hate her. She had been so happy to tell me how painful Shinigami’s final moment was. But they all agree on one thing the body was destroyed completely. And they also agree that he is dead.

He was almost child like in his cruelty he enjoyed it so much. I was the only one who could stop him. At least sometimes he would listen to me. I remember sleeping at night in that huge bed and hearing the soft sigh of the bed covers as he slipped between them. He was so cold at times I thought he would suck away all my warmth as his body curled against mine. He always began by nuzzling my hair and pulling me closer.

Other times he seemed so hot, when his tongue would expertly part my lips and taste me I thought I would die, consumed by the heat of a slow burn. His hands caressing the bare flesh of my skin like twin flames. Yes he was my lover. Does that surprise you? No one has guessed yet. The ones who once knew are silent. Their voices either stolen by death or selective memory loss.

Even though I always slept in his bed I did not become his lover for a while. He was not so depraved he would rape a child. He waited till I turned thirteen to claim me as his lover, in sheets stained with my virgin cum and blood. Before that he would bring others too his bed to satisfy his hungry then he would drain them of their life blood and leave their broken corpses on the floor for the maids to dispose of. It used to make throw up. If only I had grown quicker so many less would have died.

He trained me perfectly. Now I still crave his touch so much at times I fear the longing will drive me insane. The sick need that has invaded me so completely it pulses in my veins with every beat of my heart.

I have a family now. They tell me I’m their son. They say I was stolen from them as a child. Apparently I was taken during a raid on my hometown. During earlier times the battle zone was often unstable encroaching on nearby human settlements. My father, <and I use that term loosely> remembers my master. He spits when he says his name as its too disgusting a word to touch upon his tongue. I have to stifle the urge to punch him for such disrespect. He says that Shinigami tore me from my mother’s arms as a baby. They had thought me dead years ago and had cried the first time they saw me.

It has been six months since that first day and still they leave me in this antiseptic prison of chloroform and steel. No one trusts me since that night I ran away and the guards found me wondering among the ruins of the castle I once called home. I don’t remember much clearly, I passed out the moment they grabbed me. When I first awoke I thought I was back for one sublime moment. Then the light was switched on shattering the illusion like my heart.

So I sit and wait, longing for the death that flirts with me so cruelly. It promises me a peace I once only found in my master’s arms. So they keep me drugged to curb my self-destructive habits. They believe I’m complaisant not understanding my body processes the medicine like poison and leaves me unaffected. They believe chemicals bind my will and I play along. I pretend not to see that the head doctor is carrying on an affair with one of the patients a young Chinese ex-soldier. I pretend not to see that my two roommates are lovers. I act as if I don’t remember Quatre’s blue eyes staring at me from under the visor of an elite guard or the fact that Trowa carries more Ellowynish blood then human. If they are happy in their ignorance I will not disillusion them.

In my all too few moments of solitude I can use my treasures. The razor sharp slivers of cold steel.

The fleeting kiss of pain and bloom of fresh blood reminds me I am still alive. And I think it is also my call to him. He promised me once I would be his forever. That not even death would take me from him. I know wherever he is he can feel it and our bond will lead him right back to me. My master was nothing if not jealous.

~ One who has never truly lived cannot die,

And even death can’t erase the memory of love~