[CONTENTID2]It Can Never Be You - Found[/CONTENTID2]

[CONTENTID1]

He stumbled over the path on the way to the house in the countryside. Cobblestone, a mile long trailing from the woods to the small cottage. So familiar, it was as though he knew every stone, pebble. Every blade of grass, every wilting flower, every speck of dust. He knew them all, memories awash in his mind of a different time.

The pack slung over his shoulder bit down into the two week old scars, and he knew that some of them had opened again. Staining the fabric of the loose green shirt that had used to belong to Thunder. He had been quite a bit thinner than the other, both normally and from the starvation. Thunder was protecting him even now, from the supplies prepared for every eventuality, to this shirt which staunched the blood and kept the autumn chill from his skin.

Even as he made his way to the house – a place he was no longer entirely sure he could call home – he still couldn’t eat. The boy he had been taken to the cabin in the woods with, Tao, hadn’t really tried to encourage him to eat. He had only placed the meals before him in the days they spent together, not caring if Joon ate or starved. Only cleaning up after some time, mindless of Joon’s empty stare and broken posture.

His mind warred with itself, guilt, happiness, sadness…all in all it could only add up to depression. He was happy that Mir was alive, but now he was guilty that he had, essentially, cheated on the other. He was sad that Thunder had died, and guilty that he had not been able to help the other, that it was his fault. He missed Thunder so much inside he felt his heart would tear to pieces. Not merely as a lover, but as someone who had helped him, given his life, knowing that Joon would never be able to love him as much as Mir. Joon wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

He had spent hours beside his campfires on his journey back to his country, had too much time to consider. Had Thunder not died…and had Joon discovered Mir still lived…what would he have chosen? Part of him claimed Thunder. The other had done so much to help him, and Joon couldn’t deny the stirrings in his heart. Mir already thought he was dead, anyways. The other part of him said that had Thunder never told him he would have gone on, most definitely, to be with Thunder. And the last bit of him said he would have come racing back to Mir no matter what. That he would have yelled at Thunder for not telling him, for leading him on. Hated Thunder.

He could never be sure, and he felt even worse inside at the thought that he would have blamed the other for his love, when Thunder would have given up his life for him. He looked up as he neared the cottage and stared at the sight before him. Mir, hair drawn up into a half ponytail, loose fitting pants and shirt – he was swimming in the clothes. Joon wanted to smile, even felt the corners of his mouth twitch with the idea, but only to fade away a second later. Mir was cute. Thunder was manly. Was he not supposed to have had a choice? Between one or the other? It would have been horrible, painful, choosing one over the other. But he would give anything now to have been able to pick. At least that didn’t make him feel like he was going to Mir out of default. At least Thunder wouldn’t have died.

He was so close now, could see that Mir was planting seedlings in the flower bed outside of the little white shingled house Joon had inherited from his grandmother. Mir hadn’t noticed him, and was so near he could have reached out to touch, to embrace, so easily. But he didn’t, sudden worry flooding him. The other was so pale, face drawn, and beneath the overlarge clothes he surmise