[Fic] "A Purpose for Numbers" (4/?)
Title: A Purpose for Numbers (4/?)
Author: a_lifestyle
Fandom: Gundam Wing (3x6, 13x6, a little 1x3, 6x9, others)
Rating: R (Angst, Sex, Language, y'know.)
Words: 4,490
Summary:
A/N: Ah, lord, this took awhile, didn't it? So many apologies--I was in something of a slump, but it appears that that's ended, and my interest in the GW-verse have never wavered once! I've also made some great friends in the fandom recently, and I'm very happy to have met you all, especially since this fandom is considered so old now. :)
Incredible thanks to quatredeathlady for giving parts of this a look-see.
Thanks again, everyone, and I hope you enjoy.
A Purpose for Numbers
Part Four
Zechs took three deep breaths before getting out of the cab--he always refused Relena’s escorts--and began to fight his way to the door of the hospital. He held his breath as newscrews and reporters threatened to corner him; the ride to the hospital was long, and news of Relena’s condition cut his tolerance short.
“Zechs Merquise! What do you know of Relena’s association with the Protectors--”
“What was your business on L4? Could the attack have been prevented if you had attended---”
“Does Relena’s attack relate to her involvement with the ex-Gundam pilots--”
He barged ahead, his stride strong and eyes focused on the front door, where a dozen security guards began to approach. He nodded his thanks, and their shouts over the crowd were muffled in his ears, which had continued to ring since Une’s call in the middle of the night.
“Preventers reacted quickly after the first gunshot--hit her right in the shoulder. They gassed the area immediately, but we were able to get her to safety and to medical treatment right away. She’s at St. Lourdes, the best doctors, but she lost a lot of blood.”
After a two minute exchange with the nurse, Zechs bypassed the elevator, and took the stairs three at a time. Une and Wufei stood outside room 418; Wufei straightened his back upon Zechs’ arrival. Une leaned against the wall with her head in her hands. She acknowledged Zechs’ presence with the clearing of her throat.
“She’s sleeping, Zechs,” Une said calmly, with a firm tone that stopped Zechs from barreling into the room. Peering in, he could see that the room was divided in two parts by a privacy curtain. The blinds of the room were closed tight, but he could still make out Relena’s silhouette in the bed behind the curtain. Her chest ever-so-slightly lifted with each breath, and he finally let go of his. He had been holding it for what seemed like hours.
“What aren’t you telling me, Zechs?” Une asked in a foreign tone. Zechs turned to her with the expectation of hostility, but instead, he only saw the fatigue that wracked her body as she struggled for a half-second to stand; no one else would have noticed except for those who knew her closely. The two were something like family in the times of war--the kind of family one would expect to emerge from a war, he supposed. There was common ground in their duality.
Wufei didn’t offer his hand to help her, as Zechs would; he knew what pride was. He stiffened when Zechs made eye-contact.
“Did you know of 01’s involvement with the Protectors?” Zechs asked directly.
Une took in a long breath. “Not to this extent. Although, I seem to be in the minority.” Her eyes shifted to Wufei before fixing on Zechs. “We all care about Relena--that is first and foremost our top priority, her safety. We all need to be on the same page, wouldn’t you agree?”
Zechs nodded. “What I know is that Heero went under as a high-ranking official of the Protectors. He was working with them for nearly six months when he sought to prevent an attack on Relena that day on L2.”
“So, you’re saying he succeeded? And, that’s why nothing out-of-the-ordinary took place?”
Zechs exchanged a glance with Wufei. “Well, he may have succeeded then. But, he did end up dead.” He leaned into the doorframe so his sister was always in his peripheral vision. “Something happened between now and then that lead up to his death. I think that this event proves that without 01’s manipulation, Relena’s life is in danger.” He paused. “Did the Protectors release a statement?”
Wufei shook his head. “All we know is that their primary objective is the separation of the colonies and Earth. Groups like the Protectors believe that war is their right, and their only way that this separation could be realized.”
“And, people like Relena, figureheads of peace, are seen as enemies,” Une added.
“Perhaps their objective wasn’t to kill Relena, but to use this assassination attempt as an morbid introduction,” Zechs murmured, pinching his nose between two fingers. Noin was right--he was running a slight fever. His clothes felt suffocating. “Now the world knows about the Protectors. Their first move in the public’s eye was strong. You’ll have to be prepared for their next move.”
Une sighed. “Did you speak with Trowa Barton about this?”
Zechs swallowed. His skin was on fire under Wufei’s glare. “He’s not saying too much. Nothing that I haven’t told you already. He doesn’t deny Heero’s involvement with the Protectors, but the extent of what he knows is still uncertain.”
“Your sister almost died today,” Wufei interrupted. “You need to ask him.”
“Quatre called this morning and said you’d been to see him on L4,” Une said slowly. A cautionary tone. “He says that Trowa was also at the estate during your visit.”
“Yes. He was.” Zechs was cornered and his walls were up.
“We have to be on the same page here, Zechs,” Une repeated. “What else do you know?”
“I’ve told you everything I know,” he said calmly, his gaze landing on the soft silhouette of Relena in the hospital bed. One breath. Two.
“You mean to tell us that you’ve shared living quarters with Trowa Barton for eight months, and go off on holiday with him to L4 at Quatre Raberba Winner's, and you barely know anything?” Wufei’s words cut into the back of his neck.
“Wufei, calm down,” Une commanded before Zechs could retort. If he had wanted to. She dismissed him with a nod of her head. Wufei tightened his jaw before glancing at Zechs one last time. He turned away, signaling to the guards at the stairwell’s entrance to resume their positions at Relena’s doorway.
Une took two steps closer to stand within a whisper’s distance of him. She spoke softly, the sound of the Preventers’ heavy boots against linoleum almost drowning out her voice. “I want you to think about your sister, and the people who are protecting her. Think about her best interests. They should be yours, too.” She stepped away and bowed slightly. He nodded to her, and he entered the room before the soldiers took their place at the door.
He wasn’t thinking of himself, which was certainly what Une believed. He was thinking of Treize.
-----
Zechs paced the room in a frenzy, breaths coming double-time, fogging up the inside of his mask slightly. Treize laid on the bed with the blankets folded down under his arms. His head was wrapped in bandages not two hours old and were already stained with blood.
“This is the best hospital available?” Zechs spat. “You’re already bleeding again. I can't believe this place. Where are the doctors--”
“Zechs, stop,” Treize said calmly. “You’re acting like an old nursemaid. Sit down. It’s a head wound. It bleeds sometimes. If you want to be useful, give me that bottle on the side table.”
He glanced over at the bottle in question and hesitated. “You’re not supposed to take more painkillers for another four hours.”
Treize shot him a look. “Zechs, I was just shot in the head. I’ve done riskier things than take a few pills a couple hours early.”
Zechs furrowed his brow and dosed two pills into his hand, passing them over to Treize, who took his hand, brought him closer. He fidgeted as Treize downed the pills. Their close proximity brought mixed emotions. Hard to breathe.
“Take off your mask,” he heard him say, as if Treize were reading his mind. Stubbornly, he shook his head, but remained by his side.
“Zechs.” Treize turned to him; his brown hair was matted to his forehead in the bandages. “You’re not yourself.”
“You could have died,” he stated simply. The academy had taught him well. “Although, I suppose that if I insist on being your friend, I’d better get used to attempts on your life.”
“What is the price on my head these days, do you know?” Treize asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Don’t joke about such things,” Zechs mumbled. He was met with laughter that bubbled up from what seemed like out of nowhere. He turned and watched as Treize lifted an arm slightly, pushing the curtain away a couple of inches so the stars--real stars--shined brightly and cast blue-hued shadows across a sliver of his face.
“You’re simply too serious, Zechs.”
“Glad to see that one of us is in such good spirits.”
"Ah, but there are not enough people in good spirits these days, wouldn't you agree?"
Zechs shifted his weight, unsure of the direction this conversation would take. "I'm not sure what you mean, Treize. We're in wartime now."
"A war that we created," Treize said with a smile so sad it caught Zechs by surprise. His stomach sank suddenly. Felt empty. Treize could read him so well, just by the pause of his breath, the tensing of his shoulders--his mask was a defense mechanism that was rendered useless by the OZ hero. "Zechs, chaos is a fragile thing. It's like playing with fire. One minute, you're in control, and the next, you've burnt yourself--or someone you love. It spreads like a vicious disease unless you can contain it."
"But we have control, Treize," he said, a hint of uncertainly staining the tail end of his words.
"The things we know are going to be harder to determine as we continue moving forward. The things that seemed so clear now, here, when we're together and shielded from battle, will become more translucent. War changes people."
"We've been soldiers practically since birth."
Treize smirked a little, looked up at Zechs with heavy lidded eyes. "I’m going to die a soldier as well, on the battlefield,” he said calmly, like he had announced that dinner was to be served.
“And, I made a promise to die alongside you,” said Zechs. “I intend to keep it.”
“What if you can’t?”
Zechs turned to him then, a hint of a solemn tone was there; the first of its kind to enter their conversation. “I won’t.”
Treize stared at him a moment, then returned his gaze to the stars. “We’ll be at the very heart of this war, you know. I need you to be by my side. I need you to keep me in check.”
Zechs made a scoffing noise. He pulled off his mask, trying not to make a show of it, but felt heavy eyes upon him as he pulled his hair to the side to create a blonde curtain. The moment was intimate enough. “You’ve never allowed me to restrain you in the past.”
He chuckled a little before pulling Zechs’s hand away from his hair. Brought them closer. “Zechs, we don’t know what will happen in this war. If I stray from what is good--what we believe is good, not anybody else--I need you to do what’s necessary to make sure you and the ones we love are safe.”
Zechs peered between several strands of hair. “You have always had the authority on what’s right and wrong,” he said, searching Treize’s face for something...something. He felt more vulnerable in this moment than he had ever in his life. Moments like this, their conversation felt very real and adult and terrifying, more terrifying than anything they had witnessed at the academy or on the field.
Treize clasped his hand tight. “Sometimes, war makes people blind.”
“Doctors say four centimeters to the left, and you would have been half-blind.”
Treize smiled in a way that comforted Zechs greatly. They wouldn’t have another conversation like this again. They never had to. They both peered out the window, with only the cycle of the vitals monitor's gentle beeping to lull them through the night.
-----
Zechs squeezed her hand twice before letting go, the memories of his time with Treize settling in his mind. He had thought once or twice about writing them down, so as not to forget, but he found that the more he thought about Treize, the more vivid and detailed their past encounters became.
This time was no different. Treize’s words echoed in his ears as he kissed Relena softly, once on each cheek, before heading out of the room with barely a nod to the guards. He made one phone call and in less than one hour he was on a flight to L2.
-----
When Zechs approached the warehouse, he heard Duo's scratchy voice call out to him from beneath a pile of mobile suit scrap.
"Evening, Zechs," Duo murmured. Zechs stood awkwardly at the outside entrance of the makeshift hangar, surrounded by mobile suit corpses, blueprints, and oil-slicked asphalt. Squinting his eyes against the sun, he saw that the warehouse was connected to a small trailer where Duo most likely slept at night. Knowing 02, he had no doubt that the young man spent most of his time where he was at that moment, long legs sticking out haphazardly from beneath his work.
"Good evening," Zechs greeted in return, a small smile tugging at his lips as his senses soaked in the familiar sights and smells of grease and metal. He felt immediately at ease as he counted the tools lined up along the side of the workbenches against the wall. "Nice place."
"I detect a little sarcasm there," Duo called out once more, a large clang! interrupting his even demeanor. "Fuck! Son of a bitch!" He emerged from beneath the scrap holding a grease-stained rag to the back of his left hand, eyes shut tight in pain. Zechs looked at the man's face for the first time in nearly five years, and it was remarkably no different. The same dark braid laid across the man's chest like an afterthought, the same bangs were plastered to his face with sweat--
"Fuck...fuck! Hey, would ya make yourself useful and hand me that rag over there?" Duo said, not looking at Zechs, motioning wildly with his non-wounded hand.
Same mouth, too, Zechs noted, as he carefully lifted two clean rags from the nearby table and dropped them into Duo's outstretched hand. Duo threw the old blood and grease soaked rag aside as he rolled onto his side and stood in one movement, exhibiting grace unseen by Zechs' eyes. Or, perhaps it had just been too long for him to remember. Zechs' eyes landed on three large bottles of peroxide on the same side table, and he picked one up, leaving his travel bag on the ground. He approached Duo, who was hunched over a table in the back of the garage, inspecting the torn skin of his hand.
"I'm still a goddamn danger to myself, as you can see, " Duo cracked, as he felt Zechs come near.
Zechs smirked and leaned against the table with one hip, unscrewing the cap of the peroxide with the other. "You'll probably want this."
Duo looked up at him for the first time since Zechs' arrival. Zechs could see that spark once held by his blue eyes was now replaced with a tired countenance, a few lines on his face intersecting with the butterfly bandages holding together three or four ugly cuts across his cheek and forehead. Zechs wondered when they all became so tired.
"Thanks," Duo said, grabbing the bottle and walking over to one of the open trash compartments. "Hilde keeps this place well-stocked." He grimaced as he liberally poured the peroxide over his hand, the wound area beginning to bubble immediately.
"She likely knows what you're capable of," Zechs noted.
Duo laughed heartily, but it was a darker laugh that Zechs had never heard before. Layered and sad, somehow. "Ain't that the truth," Duo replied, shaking off the excess liquid. He pressed a clean rag to his hand, applying pressure, running off to yet another corner of the room. He kept Zechs on his toes; always two steps ahead.
"You want a drink?" Duo shouted from below a worktable where suddenly two beers were produced.
"I'm fine, thank you," Zechs said.
Duo shrugged and shut the mini-fridge below the workbenches with his foot. "More for me," he mumbled as he walked towards the entrance to the adjacent trailer. He made a rather humorous face of relief as the coldness of the beer cans was pressed to his wounded hand. Zechs smiled before he realized it.
"Wanna come inside and sit fer a minute? I doubt you're just 'in the neighborhood.'" Duo grinned and disappeared inside before hearing any response. Zechs supposed he didn't have to--he followed the ex-pilot inside.
The interior was nothing like he'd expected, very clean and plain with small touches of home. Five mismatched, hand-crocheted pot-holders lined the kitchen area, which was a small island in the center for cooking across from a tiny bar and two hand-made stools. Across from the kitchen was a small living room with a couch that was pulled out into a bed. Two knitted afghans spilled from the sofa-bed onto the carpet. Ten to a dozen photos lined what little wall-space was available, all the frames a conglomeration of wood pieces, metal, and plastic. It was full of character, just like the boy who sat in the recliner across from the sofa-bed, footrest already up. He chugged one of the beers he'd removed from the fridge, crushed the can in his hand and tossed it into the bin next to the chair, already full of other cans that had met a similar fate.
"Take a seat if you want," Duo said, motioning to the couch. "You can put the bed back in it--"
"No, it's all right; I prefer to stand." Zechs' attention lingered on the photographs on the wall before leaning against the doorframe.
"I heard what happened to Relena," Duo said, furrowing his eyebrows. "I assume that's why you're here. The Protectors are on L2 after all. I thought you'd bring an entourage or somethin' though. Thought this place would be fuckin' crawling with Preventer soilders by now."
"That depends on what Une wants to do," Zechs replied. "I assume that the Preventers will begin an investigation shortly. I left before hearing any plans of their activity."
"Gonna be okay?"
"Yes. She'll be all right. Thanks for asking."
Duo tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "I know Relena's all right; they practically broadcast her stats over the radio every ten minutes. How are you holding up?"
Zechs was taken aback, squinted his eyes a bit. "Fine, I suppose. Didn't really think about it. Thanks, though."
"Hilde'll be home in about a half an hour or so, if you wanna stay for dinner. Nothin' special, prob'ly nothin' like what you usually have."
"I keep to myself these days. Live simple. I hear you're the same."
Duo shrugged. "I s'pose you're right. We got a good life here."
"At any rate, I don't want to impose. I'm only here for some information. If you don't mind."
Duo laughed a little, trailing off into a sigh as he gingerly picked up his bandaged hand to open the remaining beer with the other. He took a large gulp, sighed again. "Everyone wants some goddamn information, Zechs. Don't know why everyone thinks that I'm the hub of fuckin' knowledge in this universe." He opened his eyes and peered at him through hazy eyes. "What can I do you for?"
"Do you know anything about the Protectors?" He wasn't usually so blunt, but he was running out of time and pictures on the wall.
"Not much. Not more than you prob'ly know already. They wanna start a war. I guess assassinating the damn world icon for peace was their first order of business. But, they're probably low on numbers. Might seem big on this colony, but to the world, they're still a speck in size."
"Like five teenage Gundam pilots against all of OZ?"
Duo laughed from his gut. Filled the room. "I guess you're right--a speck. But--"
"Oh, I know. Very different--you five were all trained, all knew your responsibility. The weight of your actions. I guess what I'm asking is if you know what kind of threat we're up against."
Duo sat up, scratched the side of his face. "If ya want my opinion, they're not a solitary unit, and they prob'ly don't all share the same reasons for wanting independence from Earth. But, what they do have in common is that they are not afraid one damn bit of resorting to violence. They think it's the only thing that'll solve their problems. I've heard about Protector activity for upwards of a year now. They're prob'ly easily provoked. It'll be hard to get them to back down."
"So what you mean to say is that what they lack in organization, they make up for in fervor."
Duo nodded. Zechs took a minute to process before continuing.
"What do you know about Heero Yuy's involvement with the Protectors?"
He smirked. "Likely you know more than I do. When the war ended, I didn't hear a fuckin' peep from Heero after that."
"You didn't try to get back in touch with him at all?"
"We were just Gundam pilots. When we're at war, there's a reason for us to stick together. After the war, it doesn't mean much, does it?"
"I suppose that's one way of putting it," Zechs mused.
"If Heero ever wanted to give me a call, send me a video log, drop by my damn house, he could've done it. Anytime! Door's open. Everybody knows that. I'm not what you'd call 'high class' or nothin'. No appointment necessary. But he didn't. He didn't want to. Actually, you bein' here right now, you've done more to reconnect with me than Heero ever did."
Zechs blinked. "So, you weren't close to Heero Yuy at all?"
"Out of sight, out of mind, man. Not worth worryin' about him. Hilde was talkin' about how she'd heard that Heero was involved somehow with the Protectors, and then I really didn't want to know what was up with him."
"Where did she hear that from?"
Duo took another swig before responding. "This colony's not that big. You just hear things. I'm sure if you just walked down to the goddamn grocery store, you'd hear things. Everybody's got a fuckin' opinion, you know?"
Zechs nodded. "I see." He shifted his weight, and steadied his eyes, his voice. Two deep breaths. "What about Trowa Barton?"
"Trowa was here just yesterday," Duo continued without missing a beat. "Said he was going to figure out who tried to kill Relena, and wanted me to tell him all I knew about the Protectors. Told him the same thing I'm telling you now."
"Had you kept in touch with Trowa after the war?"
"Moreso than Heero. But, I could say that about just about anybody." He tilted his head back to finish off his second beer. "Maybe once or twice a year. Trowa's never been much of a talker, though." Duo smirked a little. "Although I hear that the two of you have been spending plenty of time together, so I don't know why you're asking me anything about Trowa. Why didn't you ask him yourself?"
Zechs swallowed and kept his facial expression steady. "Like you said, he's not really much of a 'talker'."
Duo cleared his throat. "Well, the last I had heard from Trowa was about six months before Heero turned up dead. Trowa looked real bad, but said that Heero was sick with something, so he'd been up all night, takin' care of him, I guess. You know Heero'd never go to a fuckin' doctor or nothin' like that."
Zechs nodded. "Was it serious?"
"The way he was talkin' about it, I don't think it's the first time. Seemed pretty serious, but you know Heero. Never changed. He didn't say, but I think it's the same way that Quatre gets sick every year, pretty bad. Messed up from the ZERO system."
"The ZERO system..." Zechs' mind raced; he could feel his eyes shifting side to side as his thoughts collided.
Duo cocked his head to the side. "You get it, too, don't you?"
Zechs was thrown from his thoughts. "Yes. About once a year."
Shaking his head, Duo got up suddenly and walked past him to the kitchen. "The ZERO system doesn't fuck around. Never messed with that; my head's messed up enough already."
He watched him rummage through the refrigerator and pull some things from the freezer to defrost in the sink. Zechs stepped to the side, out of Duo's view, to take a closer look at the pictures on the wall, the sounds of the sink water running filling the silence that spread between them for the next five of six minutes.
All the pictures were of Duo and Hilde together, with the exception of one, in the darkest corner of the room, barely visible by the lamplight. It was the five ex-Gundam pilots, taken at the commemorative ceremony that Relena held, soon after the peace treaty was signed. All five pilots were in attendance and awarded the World Alliance's highest honors by Relena herself. Zechs noted that this was--and would be-- the last time all five of the pilots had been together.
He touched the face of Trowa Barton with two fingers, the dust coming off easily in tiny flecks that fell to the carpet.
What happened, Trowa? Zechs thought to himself. His thoughts were so intense that his shoulders jerked as he was catapulted into reality with the slam of the door from the garage.
"Oh, thanks for doing that." He heard Hilde's voice from the kitchen, like a soft song.
"No problem, babe," Duo began, peering past her to nod towards Zechs. "We have--"
"We got the check from the Preventers today," Hilde interrupted. Zechs slowly approached the doorway and set his eyes on Hilde's petite frame; her back was towards him and she was unpacking groceries from a cloth bag she wore around her shoulders. She threw an envelope his way, and Duo's attention turned from Zechs in order to grasp the envelope in mid-air.
"That's great, babe!" he said. "It's about time!"
"Well, you know how they are. But, it should be enough, right?"
"More than enough," Duo assured her, opening the letter. She put a gallon of milk away in the fridge, and carefully lifted a pot from the shelf and placed it on the burner.
"I can't wait to get out of here. This kitchen is so small."
"Well," Duo said, eyes and smile wide as he looked at the payment that was enclosed in the mail. "As long as I don't lose any business, I'd say our new life in the suburbs won't be as shitty as I once thought."
Hilde rolled her eyes and Duo on the backside with a spatula. "It'll be nice to have new things, for a change."
"Well, in our new house, we can have the biggest kitchen you want. As long as I can have the biggest garage that I want."
He winked once towards Zechs view before he turned and grabbed Hilde's by the back of her shirt to pull her into a hug from behind. She made a squealing sort of noise that bubbled into girlish laughter.
The moment was too intimate for Zechs--made him close his eyes and wince a little. He debated an attempt to leave quietly instead of interrupting them, in spite of the fact that the only exit appeared to be in the kitchen where they stood. However, Duo soon planted a loud kiss on Hilde's cheek before spinning her around to face the living area.
"Babe, we have a guest. You remember Zechs, right?"
Hilde's eyes went wide. Zechs nodded awkwardly, and stepped tentatively into the kitchen. "Hello, Hilde. It's been a long time."
Hilde stood with her mouth agape for a moment before shaking her head and taking Zechs' hand, leading him further into the kitchen. "Oh, my god, I didn't even see you there! Zechs, come in! Have dinner!"
"No, I actually have to be on my way," he said. "But, thank you for the offer. You have a lovely home."
Hilde rolled her eyes again and smiled wide. "Come back in a few months, and I promise it'll be a lot nicer. More than two rooms! A driveway!"
Zechs smiled politely; the air was suddenly hot and stuffy. "I'll talk to Relena as well, and see if she'd like to visit."
Hilde clapped her hand over her chest. "I heard about Relena, Zechs. Is she okay?"
"The news said she'll be fine, and Zechs did, too, sweetheart, so let the poor man on his way, arrite?" Duo piped up from behind her. Hilde attempted a stern look which was put to rest by Duo's mischievous smile. "I'm gonna see Zechs out--"
"No, no need," Zechs interrupted. The kitchen was indeed too small. "Thank you for your time, Duo. Hilde." He left without another word.
He took two large gasps of air as he exited the house, picking up his travel bag in one motion and walking quickly towards his rental car some thirty paces away. He left, the conversation with the former God of Death circling his mind, over and over, like the cycle of noises from the vitals machine in that hospital room, years ago.
-tbc-
One more part left, guys. Thanks for sticking with it.
Author: a_lifestyle
Fandom: Gundam Wing (3x6, 13x6, a little 1x3, 6x9, others)
Rating: R (Angst, Sex, Language, y'know.)
Words: 4,490
Summary:
A/N: Ah, lord, this took awhile, didn't it? So many apologies--I was in something of a slump, but it appears that that's ended, and my interest in the GW-verse have never wavered once! I've also made some great friends in the fandom recently, and I'm very happy to have met you all, especially since this fandom is considered so old now. :)
Incredible thanks to quatredeathlady for giving parts of this a look-see.
Thanks again, everyone, and I hope you enjoy.
A Purpose for Numbers
Part Four
Zechs took three deep breaths before getting out of the cab--he always refused Relena’s escorts--and began to fight his way to the door of the hospital. He held his breath as newscrews and reporters threatened to corner him; the ride to the hospital was long, and news of Relena’s condition cut his tolerance short.
“Zechs Merquise! What do you know of Relena’s association with the Protectors--”
“What was your business on L4? Could the attack have been prevented if you had attended---”
“Does Relena’s attack relate to her involvement with the ex-Gundam pilots--”
He barged ahead, his stride strong and eyes focused on the front door, where a dozen security guards began to approach. He nodded his thanks, and their shouts over the crowd were muffled in his ears, which had continued to ring since Une’s call in the middle of the night.
“Preventers reacted quickly after the first gunshot--hit her right in the shoulder. They gassed the area immediately, but we were able to get her to safety and to medical treatment right away. She’s at St. Lourdes, the best doctors, but she lost a lot of blood.”
After a two minute exchange with the nurse, Zechs bypassed the elevator, and took the stairs three at a time. Une and Wufei stood outside room 418; Wufei straightened his back upon Zechs’ arrival. Une leaned against the wall with her head in her hands. She acknowledged Zechs’ presence with the clearing of her throat.
“She’s sleeping, Zechs,” Une said calmly, with a firm tone that stopped Zechs from barreling into the room. Peering in, he could see that the room was divided in two parts by a privacy curtain. The blinds of the room were closed tight, but he could still make out Relena’s silhouette in the bed behind the curtain. Her chest ever-so-slightly lifted with each breath, and he finally let go of his. He had been holding it for what seemed like hours.
“What aren’t you telling me, Zechs?” Une asked in a foreign tone. Zechs turned to her with the expectation of hostility, but instead, he only saw the fatigue that wracked her body as she struggled for a half-second to stand; no one else would have noticed except for those who knew her closely. The two were something like family in the times of war--the kind of family one would expect to emerge from a war, he supposed. There was common ground in their duality.
Wufei didn’t offer his hand to help her, as Zechs would; he knew what pride was. He stiffened when Zechs made eye-contact.
“Did you know of 01’s involvement with the Protectors?” Zechs asked directly.
Une took in a long breath. “Not to this extent. Although, I seem to be in the minority.” Her eyes shifted to Wufei before fixing on Zechs. “We all care about Relena--that is first and foremost our top priority, her safety. We all need to be on the same page, wouldn’t you agree?”
Zechs nodded. “What I know is that Heero went under as a high-ranking official of the Protectors. He was working with them for nearly six months when he sought to prevent an attack on Relena that day on L2.”
“So, you’re saying he succeeded? And, that’s why nothing out-of-the-ordinary took place?”
Zechs exchanged a glance with Wufei. “Well, he may have succeeded then. But, he did end up dead.” He leaned into the doorframe so his sister was always in his peripheral vision. “Something happened between now and then that lead up to his death. I think that this event proves that without 01’s manipulation, Relena’s life is in danger.” He paused. “Did the Protectors release a statement?”
Wufei shook his head. “All we know is that their primary objective is the separation of the colonies and Earth. Groups like the Protectors believe that war is their right, and their only way that this separation could be realized.”
“And, people like Relena, figureheads of peace, are seen as enemies,” Une added.
“Perhaps their objective wasn’t to kill Relena, but to use this assassination attempt as an morbid introduction,” Zechs murmured, pinching his nose between two fingers. Noin was right--he was running a slight fever. His clothes felt suffocating. “Now the world knows about the Protectors. Their first move in the public’s eye was strong. You’ll have to be prepared for their next move.”
Une sighed. “Did you speak with Trowa Barton about this?”
Zechs swallowed. His skin was on fire under Wufei’s glare. “He’s not saying too much. Nothing that I haven’t told you already. He doesn’t deny Heero’s involvement with the Protectors, but the extent of what he knows is still uncertain.”
“Your sister almost died today,” Wufei interrupted. “You need to ask him.”
“Quatre called this morning and said you’d been to see him on L4,” Une said slowly. A cautionary tone. “He says that Trowa was also at the estate during your visit.”
“Yes. He was.” Zechs was cornered and his walls were up.
“We have to be on the same page here, Zechs,” Une repeated. “What else do you know?”
“I’ve told you everything I know,” he said calmly, his gaze landing on the soft silhouette of Relena in the hospital bed. One breath. Two.
“You mean to tell us that you’ve shared living quarters with Trowa Barton for eight months, and go off on holiday with him to L4 at Quatre Raberba Winner's, and you barely know anything?” Wufei’s words cut into the back of his neck.
“Wufei, calm down,” Une commanded before Zechs could retort. If he had wanted to. She dismissed him with a nod of her head. Wufei tightened his jaw before glancing at Zechs one last time. He turned away, signaling to the guards at the stairwell’s entrance to resume their positions at Relena’s doorway.
Une took two steps closer to stand within a whisper’s distance of him. She spoke softly, the sound of the Preventers’ heavy boots against linoleum almost drowning out her voice. “I want you to think about your sister, and the people who are protecting her. Think about her best interests. They should be yours, too.” She stepped away and bowed slightly. He nodded to her, and he entered the room before the soldiers took their place at the door.
He wasn’t thinking of himself, which was certainly what Une believed. He was thinking of Treize.
-----
Zechs paced the room in a frenzy, breaths coming double-time, fogging up the inside of his mask slightly. Treize laid on the bed with the blankets folded down under his arms. His head was wrapped in bandages not two hours old and were already stained with blood.
“This is the best hospital available?” Zechs spat. “You’re already bleeding again. I can't believe this place. Where are the doctors--”
“Zechs, stop,” Treize said calmly. “You’re acting like an old nursemaid. Sit down. It’s a head wound. It bleeds sometimes. If you want to be useful, give me that bottle on the side table.”
He glanced over at the bottle in question and hesitated. “You’re not supposed to take more painkillers for another four hours.”
Treize shot him a look. “Zechs, I was just shot in the head. I’ve done riskier things than take a few pills a couple hours early.”
Zechs furrowed his brow and dosed two pills into his hand, passing them over to Treize, who took his hand, brought him closer. He fidgeted as Treize downed the pills. Their close proximity brought mixed emotions. Hard to breathe.
“Take off your mask,” he heard him say, as if Treize were reading his mind. Stubbornly, he shook his head, but remained by his side.
“Zechs.” Treize turned to him; his brown hair was matted to his forehead in the bandages. “You’re not yourself.”
“You could have died,” he stated simply. The academy had taught him well. “Although, I suppose that if I insist on being your friend, I’d better get used to attempts on your life.”
“What is the price on my head these days, do you know?” Treize asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Don’t joke about such things,” Zechs mumbled. He was met with laughter that bubbled up from what seemed like out of nowhere. He turned and watched as Treize lifted an arm slightly, pushing the curtain away a couple of inches so the stars--real stars--shined brightly and cast blue-hued shadows across a sliver of his face.
“You’re simply too serious, Zechs.”
“Glad to see that one of us is in such good spirits.”
"Ah, but there are not enough people in good spirits these days, wouldn't you agree?"
Zechs shifted his weight, unsure of the direction this conversation would take. "I'm not sure what you mean, Treize. We're in wartime now."
"A war that we created," Treize said with a smile so sad it caught Zechs by surprise. His stomach sank suddenly. Felt empty. Treize could read him so well, just by the pause of his breath, the tensing of his shoulders--his mask was a defense mechanism that was rendered useless by the OZ hero. "Zechs, chaos is a fragile thing. It's like playing with fire. One minute, you're in control, and the next, you've burnt yourself--or someone you love. It spreads like a vicious disease unless you can contain it."
"But we have control, Treize," he said, a hint of uncertainly staining the tail end of his words.
"The things we know are going to be harder to determine as we continue moving forward. The things that seemed so clear now, here, when we're together and shielded from battle, will become more translucent. War changes people."
"We've been soldiers practically since birth."
Treize smirked a little, looked up at Zechs with heavy lidded eyes. "I’m going to die a soldier as well, on the battlefield,” he said calmly, like he had announced that dinner was to be served.
“And, I made a promise to die alongside you,” said Zechs. “I intend to keep it.”
“What if you can’t?”
Zechs turned to him then, a hint of a solemn tone was there; the first of its kind to enter their conversation. “I won’t.”
Treize stared at him a moment, then returned his gaze to the stars. “We’ll be at the very heart of this war, you know. I need you to be by my side. I need you to keep me in check.”
Zechs made a scoffing noise. He pulled off his mask, trying not to make a show of it, but felt heavy eyes upon him as he pulled his hair to the side to create a blonde curtain. The moment was intimate enough. “You’ve never allowed me to restrain you in the past.”
He chuckled a little before pulling Zechs’s hand away from his hair. Brought them closer. “Zechs, we don’t know what will happen in this war. If I stray from what is good--what we believe is good, not anybody else--I need you to do what’s necessary to make sure you and the ones we love are safe.”
Zechs peered between several strands of hair. “You have always had the authority on what’s right and wrong,” he said, searching Treize’s face for something...something. He felt more vulnerable in this moment than he had ever in his life. Moments like this, their conversation felt very real and adult and terrifying, more terrifying than anything they had witnessed at the academy or on the field.
Treize clasped his hand tight. “Sometimes, war makes people blind.”
“Doctors say four centimeters to the left, and you would have been half-blind.”
Treize smiled in a way that comforted Zechs greatly. They wouldn’t have another conversation like this again. They never had to. They both peered out the window, with only the cycle of the vitals monitor's gentle beeping to lull them through the night.
-----
Zechs squeezed her hand twice before letting go, the memories of his time with Treize settling in his mind. He had thought once or twice about writing them down, so as not to forget, but he found that the more he thought about Treize, the more vivid and detailed their past encounters became.
This time was no different. Treize’s words echoed in his ears as he kissed Relena softly, once on each cheek, before heading out of the room with barely a nod to the guards. He made one phone call and in less than one hour he was on a flight to L2.
-----
When Zechs approached the warehouse, he heard Duo's scratchy voice call out to him from beneath a pile of mobile suit scrap.
"Evening, Zechs," Duo murmured. Zechs stood awkwardly at the outside entrance of the makeshift hangar, surrounded by mobile suit corpses, blueprints, and oil-slicked asphalt. Squinting his eyes against the sun, he saw that the warehouse was connected to a small trailer where Duo most likely slept at night. Knowing 02, he had no doubt that the young man spent most of his time where he was at that moment, long legs sticking out haphazardly from beneath his work.
"Good evening," Zechs greeted in return, a small smile tugging at his lips as his senses soaked in the familiar sights and smells of grease and metal. He felt immediately at ease as he counted the tools lined up along the side of the workbenches against the wall. "Nice place."
"I detect a little sarcasm there," Duo called out once more, a large clang! interrupting his even demeanor. "Fuck! Son of a bitch!" He emerged from beneath the scrap holding a grease-stained rag to the back of his left hand, eyes shut tight in pain. Zechs looked at the man's face for the first time in nearly five years, and it was remarkably no different. The same dark braid laid across the man's chest like an afterthought, the same bangs were plastered to his face with sweat--
"Fuck...fuck! Hey, would ya make yourself useful and hand me that rag over there?" Duo said, not looking at Zechs, motioning wildly with his non-wounded hand.
Same mouth, too, Zechs noted, as he carefully lifted two clean rags from the nearby table and dropped them into Duo's outstretched hand. Duo threw the old blood and grease soaked rag aside as he rolled onto his side and stood in one movement, exhibiting grace unseen by Zechs' eyes. Or, perhaps it had just been too long for him to remember. Zechs' eyes landed on three large bottles of peroxide on the same side table, and he picked one up, leaving his travel bag on the ground. He approached Duo, who was hunched over a table in the back of the garage, inspecting the torn skin of his hand.
"I'm still a goddamn danger to myself, as you can see, " Duo cracked, as he felt Zechs come near.
Zechs smirked and leaned against the table with one hip, unscrewing the cap of the peroxide with the other. "You'll probably want this."
Duo looked up at him for the first time since Zechs' arrival. Zechs could see that spark once held by his blue eyes was now replaced with a tired countenance, a few lines on his face intersecting with the butterfly bandages holding together three or four ugly cuts across his cheek and forehead. Zechs wondered when they all became so tired.
"Thanks," Duo said, grabbing the bottle and walking over to one of the open trash compartments. "Hilde keeps this place well-stocked." He grimaced as he liberally poured the peroxide over his hand, the wound area beginning to bubble immediately.
"She likely knows what you're capable of," Zechs noted.
Duo laughed heartily, but it was a darker laugh that Zechs had never heard before. Layered and sad, somehow. "Ain't that the truth," Duo replied, shaking off the excess liquid. He pressed a clean rag to his hand, applying pressure, running off to yet another corner of the room. He kept Zechs on his toes; always two steps ahead.
"You want a drink?" Duo shouted from below a worktable where suddenly two beers were produced.
"I'm fine, thank you," Zechs said.
Duo shrugged and shut the mini-fridge below the workbenches with his foot. "More for me," he mumbled as he walked towards the entrance to the adjacent trailer. He made a rather humorous face of relief as the coldness of the beer cans was pressed to his wounded hand. Zechs smiled before he realized it.
"Wanna come inside and sit fer a minute? I doubt you're just 'in the neighborhood.'" Duo grinned and disappeared inside before hearing any response. Zechs supposed he didn't have to--he followed the ex-pilot inside.
The interior was nothing like he'd expected, very clean and plain with small touches of home. Five mismatched, hand-crocheted pot-holders lined the kitchen area, which was a small island in the center for cooking across from a tiny bar and two hand-made stools. Across from the kitchen was a small living room with a couch that was pulled out into a bed. Two knitted afghans spilled from the sofa-bed onto the carpet. Ten to a dozen photos lined what little wall-space was available, all the frames a conglomeration of wood pieces, metal, and plastic. It was full of character, just like the boy who sat in the recliner across from the sofa-bed, footrest already up. He chugged one of the beers he'd removed from the fridge, crushed the can in his hand and tossed it into the bin next to the chair, already full of other cans that had met a similar fate.
"Take a seat if you want," Duo said, motioning to the couch. "You can put the bed back in it--"
"No, it's all right; I prefer to stand." Zechs' attention lingered on the photographs on the wall before leaning against the doorframe.
"I heard what happened to Relena," Duo said, furrowing his eyebrows. "I assume that's why you're here. The Protectors are on L2 after all. I thought you'd bring an entourage or somethin' though. Thought this place would be fuckin' crawling with Preventer soilders by now."
"That depends on what Une wants to do," Zechs replied. "I assume that the Preventers will begin an investigation shortly. I left before hearing any plans of their activity."
"Gonna be okay?"
"Yes. She'll be all right. Thanks for asking."
Duo tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "I know Relena's all right; they practically broadcast her stats over the radio every ten minutes. How are you holding up?"
Zechs was taken aback, squinted his eyes a bit. "Fine, I suppose. Didn't really think about it. Thanks, though."
"Hilde'll be home in about a half an hour or so, if you wanna stay for dinner. Nothin' special, prob'ly nothin' like what you usually have."
"I keep to myself these days. Live simple. I hear you're the same."
Duo shrugged. "I s'pose you're right. We got a good life here."
"At any rate, I don't want to impose. I'm only here for some information. If you don't mind."
Duo laughed a little, trailing off into a sigh as he gingerly picked up his bandaged hand to open the remaining beer with the other. He took a large gulp, sighed again. "Everyone wants some goddamn information, Zechs. Don't know why everyone thinks that I'm the hub of fuckin' knowledge in this universe." He opened his eyes and peered at him through hazy eyes. "What can I do you for?"
"Do you know anything about the Protectors?" He wasn't usually so blunt, but he was running out of time and pictures on the wall.
"Not much. Not more than you prob'ly know already. They wanna start a war. I guess assassinating the damn world icon for peace was their first order of business. But, they're probably low on numbers. Might seem big on this colony, but to the world, they're still a speck in size."
"Like five teenage Gundam pilots against all of OZ?"
Duo laughed from his gut. Filled the room. "I guess you're right--a speck. But--"
"Oh, I know. Very different--you five were all trained, all knew your responsibility. The weight of your actions. I guess what I'm asking is if you know what kind of threat we're up against."
Duo sat up, scratched the side of his face. "If ya want my opinion, they're not a solitary unit, and they prob'ly don't all share the same reasons for wanting independence from Earth. But, what they do have in common is that they are not afraid one damn bit of resorting to violence. They think it's the only thing that'll solve their problems. I've heard about Protector activity for upwards of a year now. They're prob'ly easily provoked. It'll be hard to get them to back down."
"So what you mean to say is that what they lack in organization, they make up for in fervor."
Duo nodded. Zechs took a minute to process before continuing.
"What do you know about Heero Yuy's involvement with the Protectors?"
He smirked. "Likely you know more than I do. When the war ended, I didn't hear a fuckin' peep from Heero after that."
"You didn't try to get back in touch with him at all?"
"We were just Gundam pilots. When we're at war, there's a reason for us to stick together. After the war, it doesn't mean much, does it?"
"I suppose that's one way of putting it," Zechs mused.
"If Heero ever wanted to give me a call, send me a video log, drop by my damn house, he could've done it. Anytime! Door's open. Everybody knows that. I'm not what you'd call 'high class' or nothin'. No appointment necessary. But he didn't. He didn't want to. Actually, you bein' here right now, you've done more to reconnect with me than Heero ever did."
Zechs blinked. "So, you weren't close to Heero Yuy at all?"
"Out of sight, out of mind, man. Not worth worryin' about him. Hilde was talkin' about how she'd heard that Heero was involved somehow with the Protectors, and then I really didn't want to know what was up with him."
"Where did she hear that from?"
Duo took another swig before responding. "This colony's not that big. You just hear things. I'm sure if you just walked down to the goddamn grocery store, you'd hear things. Everybody's got a fuckin' opinion, you know?"
Zechs nodded. "I see." He shifted his weight, and steadied his eyes, his voice. Two deep breaths. "What about Trowa Barton?"
"Trowa was here just yesterday," Duo continued without missing a beat. "Said he was going to figure out who tried to kill Relena, and wanted me to tell him all I knew about the Protectors. Told him the same thing I'm telling you now."
"Had you kept in touch with Trowa after the war?"
"Moreso than Heero. But, I could say that about just about anybody." He tilted his head back to finish off his second beer. "Maybe once or twice a year. Trowa's never been much of a talker, though." Duo smirked a little. "Although I hear that the two of you have been spending plenty of time together, so I don't know why you're asking me anything about Trowa. Why didn't you ask him yourself?"
Zechs swallowed and kept his facial expression steady. "Like you said, he's not really much of a 'talker'."
Duo cleared his throat. "Well, the last I had heard from Trowa was about six months before Heero turned up dead. Trowa looked real bad, but said that Heero was sick with something, so he'd been up all night, takin' care of him, I guess. You know Heero'd never go to a fuckin' doctor or nothin' like that."
Zechs nodded. "Was it serious?"
"The way he was talkin' about it, I don't think it's the first time. Seemed pretty serious, but you know Heero. Never changed. He didn't say, but I think it's the same way that Quatre gets sick every year, pretty bad. Messed up from the ZERO system."
"The ZERO system..." Zechs' mind raced; he could feel his eyes shifting side to side as his thoughts collided.
Duo cocked his head to the side. "You get it, too, don't you?"
Zechs was thrown from his thoughts. "Yes. About once a year."
Shaking his head, Duo got up suddenly and walked past him to the kitchen. "The ZERO system doesn't fuck around. Never messed with that; my head's messed up enough already."
He watched him rummage through the refrigerator and pull some things from the freezer to defrost in the sink. Zechs stepped to the side, out of Duo's view, to take a closer look at the pictures on the wall, the sounds of the sink water running filling the silence that spread between them for the next five of six minutes.
All the pictures were of Duo and Hilde together, with the exception of one, in the darkest corner of the room, barely visible by the lamplight. It was the five ex-Gundam pilots, taken at the commemorative ceremony that Relena held, soon after the peace treaty was signed. All five pilots were in attendance and awarded the World Alliance's highest honors by Relena herself. Zechs noted that this was--and would be-- the last time all five of the pilots had been together.
He touched the face of Trowa Barton with two fingers, the dust coming off easily in tiny flecks that fell to the carpet.
What happened, Trowa? Zechs thought to himself. His thoughts were so intense that his shoulders jerked as he was catapulted into reality with the slam of the door from the garage.
"Oh, thanks for doing that." He heard Hilde's voice from the kitchen, like a soft song.
"No problem, babe," Duo began, peering past her to nod towards Zechs. "We have--"
"We got the check from the Preventers today," Hilde interrupted. Zechs slowly approached the doorway and set his eyes on Hilde's petite frame; her back was towards him and she was unpacking groceries from a cloth bag she wore around her shoulders. She threw an envelope his way, and Duo's attention turned from Zechs in order to grasp the envelope in mid-air.
"That's great, babe!" he said. "It's about time!"
"Well, you know how they are. But, it should be enough, right?"
"More than enough," Duo assured her, opening the letter. She put a gallon of milk away in the fridge, and carefully lifted a pot from the shelf and placed it on the burner.
"I can't wait to get out of here. This kitchen is so small."
"Well," Duo said, eyes and smile wide as he looked at the payment that was enclosed in the mail. "As long as I don't lose any business, I'd say our new life in the suburbs won't be as shitty as I once thought."
Hilde rolled her eyes and Duo on the backside with a spatula. "It'll be nice to have new things, for a change."
"Well, in our new house, we can have the biggest kitchen you want. As long as I can have the biggest garage that I want."
He winked once towards Zechs view before he turned and grabbed Hilde's by the back of her shirt to pull her into a hug from behind. She made a squealing sort of noise that bubbled into girlish laughter.
The moment was too intimate for Zechs--made him close his eyes and wince a little. He debated an attempt to leave quietly instead of interrupting them, in spite of the fact that the only exit appeared to be in the kitchen where they stood. However, Duo soon planted a loud kiss on Hilde's cheek before spinning her around to face the living area.
"Babe, we have a guest. You remember Zechs, right?"
Hilde's eyes went wide. Zechs nodded awkwardly, and stepped tentatively into the kitchen. "Hello, Hilde. It's been a long time."
Hilde stood with her mouth agape for a moment before shaking her head and taking Zechs' hand, leading him further into the kitchen. "Oh, my god, I didn't even see you there! Zechs, come in! Have dinner!"
"No, I actually have to be on my way," he said. "But, thank you for the offer. You have a lovely home."
Hilde rolled her eyes again and smiled wide. "Come back in a few months, and I promise it'll be a lot nicer. More than two rooms! A driveway!"
Zechs smiled politely; the air was suddenly hot and stuffy. "I'll talk to Relena as well, and see if she'd like to visit."
Hilde clapped her hand over her chest. "I heard about Relena, Zechs. Is she okay?"
"The news said she'll be fine, and Zechs did, too, sweetheart, so let the poor man on his way, arrite?" Duo piped up from behind her. Hilde attempted a stern look which was put to rest by Duo's mischievous smile. "I'm gonna see Zechs out--"
"No, no need," Zechs interrupted. The kitchen was indeed too small. "Thank you for your time, Duo. Hilde." He left without another word.
He took two large gasps of air as he exited the house, picking up his travel bag in one motion and walking quickly towards his rental car some thirty paces away. He left, the conversation with the former God of Death circling his mind, over and over, like the cycle of noises from the vitals machine in that hospital room, years ago.
-tbc-
One more part left, guys. Thanks for sticking with it.