September 1998
Apart from the bustle of furious activity that consumed the rest of the world, and was bringing a frenetic new pace to industry in space, the room of the manor house was darkened and quiet. It was anticlimactic, the sense of utter immobility that hung over the room, the feeling of a place where things had slowed and come to a halt.
Treize put his chin in his hand.
"Lady, you are looking at the future through your ideals."
He sighed and got up from the chair. At first, this had been a good idea. It was his dream in motion. He was going to change history, and bring the world around to his vision of perfection.
"It is what your Excellency wished," Une's soft puzzled voice replied.
A great leader should never question himself. He should forge on ahead, always keeping firmly in mind his plans, and never once falter in carrying out his vision. Treize had come to the conclusion, therefore, that he was not a great leader. Because he was now unsure of himself...beginning to doubt not only what he had done and continued to do, but puzzle on the very nature of his place in the scheme of things.
"My ideals are a mere man's fantasy," he replied, coming to stand by the silvered-over glass of the window. He looked out on the still, silent grounds of the manor. It had never felt more true than in this moment. "History is made from countless days. I have no interest in one man's future."
He could taste the lie, even as he could see the faces projected against the insides of his eyelids. Zechs, his true friend, whom he had betrayed. The loyalty that had once been his had now been given over to Relena's pacifistic ideals, even though he fought to make those reality. And Wufei, the young dragon...how would he fare, once there was no more war to fight? Iie...would he survive through the war with his fighter's heart, ideals intact? Even more so...his own future was rapidly turning to dust. He was no longer strong enough to direct his own future, trapped in the weight of his own idealistic movement.
"Your future is already set. Your future lies in these skies," Une admonished him gently. She had changed. He had changed her.
What right did he have?
He was a man who could not even change his own destiny. How dared he, to meddle in the lives and fates of countless others...how presumptuous. He had made his own effort, and he could see clearly now where it was going. Doomed to failure. His future was set...?
That was what he was afraid of.
"Lady, I am not that strong. Zechs and the Gundam pilots are trying to make the future now." He closed his eyes, and Zechs' strong features reassured him. He had the will to reassert reality. Who was to say their cause was not just? "There is no need to rush. Time is to be repeated."
He wondered if he was getting through to her. If she could understand what he was trying to say.
"Lady, please come back. The Lady Une that I loved."
Without seeing her face he knew he'd taken her aback.
Softly, Treize smiled. He would fail. He knew that now. But, a fact that was easier to grasp...he would leave his mark, and be remembered. Things fall apart...he remained silent and unmoving long after he'd broken the connection, tracing random patterns on the desk blotter. His life had been so rigid and orderly, and he'd had such a great purpose, a grand sweeping vision that the world could conform to, if only the world could bring itself to see...
In a series of abrupt, brisk movements Treize got up and crossed the room, taking up his rapier. He tossed the sheath to the side and brought it up, saluting an imaginary opponent, then fell into perfect fighting stance. He lunged. Perfect form.
Form was all he had left, now.
Wufei's brow knotted at the approaching mobile suits and his hands splayed over the controls of his Gundam, but he did nothing. Could do nothing - after drifting in space for so long, without a chance to make port and re-fuel, his Nataku's guns were playing on empty. Even the might of the dragon fist was useless without enough fuel to power the flamethrower.
Shenlong was rocked by the crossfire of the approaching MS unit and he glared at them in helpless fury. Would the man see - !?
He was thrown back in the restraints, and stifled a curse. For a moment in the dazzling flare of the gunfire a face seemed to pass briefly over the cold glass contours of the cockpit, and he reached out involuntarily.
"Mei-" he gasped, then bit off the name abruptly.
His dark eyes hardened with resolve. He groped over the panel for the plastic casing, flipping it open. The red switch lay beneath his fingers. If the chief technician was going to be stupid, if he was going to destroy this Shenlong and all it represented - his chance to fight, his chance for Nataku - then he was going to make his death worth something. Judging his distance from the man's convoy, the blast wave should score it enough to do serious damage.
The cockpit shuddered again, and Wufei lifted his face to the stars. Space was so wide and unconstrained...this was what he was fighting for. It was what *she* had fought for, and now he was an extension of the will of his people. To die for this would not be so terribly bad. There was purpose and honor, even if it was not the path he would have chosen, not the way to keep on fighting and see true justice prevail. His fingers began to press down.
The gunfire stopped.
Wufei looked around, startled. He bent an attentive eye to what little data Shenlong could provide him in her depleted state. Then he looked up and gave the convoy a broad smirk. So, they'd decided to capture him?
"Arigato, 'Mr. Kind Technician,' " Wufei's eyebrows quirked. He flipped the casing back down over the self-destruct. "Nataku, we have to become strong."
He folded his arms again as they were flanked by the unit of mobile suits that had so recently opened fire. The MS unit was wary, cautious, as if expecting him to be pulling an underhanded stunt and open fire at the last minute. Wufei's lip curled in scorn. He had no use for such tricks.
As they were towed in towards the convoy, Wufei took advantage of the view of the moon to examine it thoroughly. This moon base had so recently been his target - and apparently Heero Yuy's too, from the information he'd gleaned. It was not going well for them. First the destruction of Shinigami - presumably Duo was dead, too - and then Yuy's rather spectacular failure, and capture to boot.
Trowa had him one better - apparently he was a *part* of OZ now. Wufei did not know the young man well enough to judge if he'd truly defected, or if he was using his strange position within OZ the same way Wufei was using this maker of the mobile dolls.
"Seems like there's a factory," Wufei mused. The production of the mobile dolls had sped up rapidly within the past few weeks - another reason he had come. This place was a target for "terrorists" like themselves, by virtue of what lay on the moon's surface: the scientists who had created Gundam, the mobile doll manufacturing, a major OZ headquarters including Treize's right hand Lady Une... "I wonder if they'll make us strong there?"
Almost affectionately he patted the console.
This was only a temporary setback.
"This is only a temporary setback," Duo gritted between his teeth, talking to himself as he groped across the floor. The real problem wasn't the handcuffs - oh, not at all! The problem was maneuvering in a position to get to his lockpicks. A sticky situation indeed.
That girl had done a mediocre job - Hilde, hadn't it been? She had cuffed his arms behind the chair, but not *between* the rungs. So there was nothing preventing him from standing up and finessing the chair out from behind his back, and then...well, this was the hard part. One had to be flexible. Duo grimaced and swore as he heard a joint popping as he lifted his legs higher and pushed his arms to the limits of their sockets.
"Ajah-ha!" Triumphantly he brought his cuffed hands up in front of his face, then collapsed in a boneless sprawl on the floor. Now, to get his lockpicks. This was the easy part.
He paused, fishing around, face turning unexpectedly solemn as he considered Hilde Shbeicker. *I'm prepared to die don't take pity on me.* That attitude, it was so like Heero's that it hurt. Yet Heero had never possessed the air of naivete, of pure devotion stemming from a genuine love of the people he was protecting. Even so, so much of the short dark-haired girl had reminded him of his lover. For one thing, sighting up the muzzle of a gun barrel at her determined face. That had been a mildly familiar sight.
If it hadn't been for Hilde, he would have had no difficulties escaping from the colony. Yet the girl had dogged his steps - had recognized him as he gained access to the recruiting facilities, and the precious Leos - and had even tried to stop him as he took off in his stolen mobile suit with his own mission firmly in mind.
*For the colonies!*
Her cry had stopped him short, as she flung her own Leo after him in desperate but clumsy combat. His hesitation over that had gotten him captured - saving her had gotten him captured. It was all terribly startling, it was a slap in the face, because he was fighting for the colonies, too. As he'd said. *"I'm fighting to get back those smiling faces. And what do I see upon my return? You're throwing those smiles away yourselves."* Hilde's expression had been every bit as determined, every bit as single-minded as Heero had ever been. Both of them had not smiled as they faced him. Everything was so damned grim these days. But Hilde didn't seem to be the utter fatalist that his lover was - the mission, or death.
Duo grumbled as he worked the lockpick with tooth and hand. They were taking him to the moon base - funny how his luck worked out that way. The moon base was exactly where he wanted to go.
Heero was there.
The door slid open to reveal Trowa Barton.
Heero raised an eyebrow as the tall pilot entered, but other than that presented no acknowledgment.
"Wufei will be joining you soon," Trowa informed him, that smooth face with the high cheekbones perfectly expressionless. A mask, like the one he wore.
Heero shrugged. He hadn't had much contact with the Chinese pilot; didn't really know him in any significant way. It didn't make much of an impact on him one way or another. He looked away from Trowa, whose eyes were knowing. If it had been Duo...
His eyes tightened defensively. He shouldn't be thinking those thoughts. He would have cursed the fool for getting himself captured. But in a way, he would have expected it -- Duo would try to come here, and he would probably be distracted by his feelings. As shaming as it was to admit, Heero had been distracted too - by Trowa. Wufei getting himself captured was actually somewhat surprising - he'd seemed more calculating than that. Perhaps, like Trowa, there was a reason.
Trowa took another step forward.
"Did you want something?" Heero made himself inquire, biting and harsh. He cursed himself in the next instant - Trowa had never been less than polite to him under all circumstances, despiteeven after what he had done.
Trowa frowned down on him from the vantage point of superior height. It was a severe expression belied by the confusion in those eyes.
Heero lifted his shoulders in another, more defeated shrug. "You could get your revenge, if you wanted to. I couldn't do much. I wouldn't stop you." Inside he was cringing back at the thought.
Trowa's green eyes recoiled in horror. He actually took a step back. "Why!?" he demanded, his voice suddenly every bit as harsh. Heero had enough time to widen his eyes before he was slammed against the wall. "K'so, Heero, why!? Why are you like this? How can you think I would possibly do...that...to you, especially knowing that you have Duo?"
Heero met the raw gaze without flinching, although it took considerable force of will. Trowa's fingers loosened abruptly and he stepped back, averting his eyes. Troubled.
"Why...when you have Duo...did you do that to me?"
Heero's breath caught. This was the crux, right here - and telling Trowa honestly could possibly hurt him even more. Because the truth was awful.
He didn't know why. Maybe - it was something he had needed, after nearly dying, to desperately reassure himself that he was still alive. By performing the most basic of human functions, by satisfying a fleeting need for physical intimacy. Maybe he'd needed Duo so badly he had been willing to accept any substitute. But Duo hadn't been there. And Duo wasn't here now, and he might never deserve to be with him again, after what he'd done
Trowa was looking at him again. This time, Heero couldn't meet his eyes.
Heels clicked on the metal deck beneath them. Without another word, Trowa left. Leaving him alone in the wake of what he'd done.
Another casualty.
Another mistake.
Someone who should not have been hurt, and had already been hurting...and he'd failed again.
Heero closed his eyes, but Trowa's burning stare followed him. Those mute green eyes striving for a hard impassivity that rivaled his own, yet he could see to the core of it. Trowa had been hurt.
He'd hurt him.
Duo ricocheted off the wall and gathered himself, spraying machine-gun fire, then rolled to his feet and kept moving. He had to get to the scientists quickly, or this mission would be a total loss. And Hilde would have made her sacrifice for nothing - she'd surprised him, that girl. Maybe all girls weren't *that* bad, after all... Just as his escape seemed to be made, as he gleefully tossed away handcuffs and stole that Leo again, blowing the hatch, his descent to the moon had been intercepted by an arc of those damned mobile dolls. So damned fast.
The damned Leo he'd stolen had started to break up on him. And the mobile dolls were making a good start on finishing him up.
Of all people, Hilde had saved him. The girl who, only hours before, had leveled a gun at his head with every intention of ending his sorry existence.
*I'm just going to do what I believe.* Her parting words had stunned him speechless. Not only had he not expected her to cover him like that, switching sides and going against her OZ compatriots, but even more the tone of her speech was Heero's.
It was something Heero might have said. Just maybe.
Gun tucked firmly in his arms, he snagged the right room at last and banged the door open with one fist. He wasn't sure where they were keeping the Gundam pilots. He could only be sure of one thing at a time.
*This should be Dr. G and the others*
Duo glided inside and goggled in shock.
"Shi...shinigami...!"
It was...no, he thought his partner had been blasted to shiny little atoms! He'd seen the broadcast!
"So, you've come for us too, have you?"
Duo turned, limbs still sluggish with shock. A beam played over his eyes, slicing straight to the core of his eyeballs and he reeled, raising up one hand in a futile gesture of protection. "Duo...it's been a long time, ne?" Dr. G's voice cut to him through his blindness.
"Aa," he replied warily. What was the old man up to?
"We're making improvements." The old doctor's voice was smugly self-satisfied. "It should be done in a month. Do you want to pilot Shinigami again?"
Duo's fingers flexed on the gun. He had come here to kill them. To kill his mentor, and destroy his partner
The gun clattered to the floor.
"Survive for a month, and you can ride it again. Your Shinigami." Dr. G turned away. The other doctors were conferring about something. Of which one of them would take him down, and have something to show the OZ soldiers.
So, it had come to this? Capture, again.
Then the biggest of them stepped up to him, and punched him in the stomach. Cracked him across the jaw. Duo collapsed in a heap against the wall, and the man seized him in a strong hand, grabbing the front of his shirt. Duo's head was rocked back as explosive starbursts hollowed out his vision.
"It'll be less painful if you let it out," the man told him, almost gently as he lifted his big fist to hit him again.
"I know, but boys don't cry."
*Itai!!* A burst of crimson and black-edged sparks shot through his vision, then nothing more.
The limp body hung between the two soldiers, a rag doll figure, as the door was thrown open with a harsh, grating sound. The two pilots within looked up without much concern, then the body was thrown into the cell with a muffled exclamation of pain as the door ground shut behind him. The sliver of light disappeared as hastily as it had thrown its illumination into the darkness.
Duo groaned a little and slouched closer to the cold pavement. It felt good against his scraped cheek.
"Failed your mission."
The voice pierced the quiet and the dark matter-of-factly and Duo winced, his conscious mind contracting to a fine point. It was Heero, his lover was here, and he wanted to laugh or maybe rail at the absolute absurdity of the whole situation. He had come here intending to rescue Heero's butt, for a change of pace, and instead...as Heero so pointedly reminded him he had failed. Just for the chance at riding Shinigami once more.
But...he *needed* his partner...
"I couldn't destroy the base and couldn't even kill the doctors," Heero's voice continued, and Duo winced again - this time, at the bitter note of self-loathing in the Wing pilot's voice. All the impassivity in the world couldn't conceal it from him. He could still hear it, that fatalistic element of his lover's makeup that sought to destroy himself once he judged himself lacking. As he had nearly done before.
"Don't say that," Duo returned, eyes flickering over to Wufei. He wanted to say more. Heero needed to be convinced that, just maybe, things could turn out for the better. The damned old man had something up his sleeve, he just knew it. Dr. G and the others were plotting something. "But it was worth coming."
Heero shifted uncomfortably.
Duo smiled, his cheek moving over the cold stone with the movement. It hurt, at the same time it eased the burning pain in his skin. Heero was like the stone for him. Now Heero thought he was going to say something to embarrass him. *I missed you. I loved you. Why the hell did you leave me, you bastard!?* But Duo Maxwell was not the type to air his dirty laundry in front of someone he barely knew.
He shifted his attention to Wufei, who was drawing back into the more shadowed corners of the cell. "Oi, listen - yours and mine are being modified. I'm *so* looking forward to it," he slurred, his eyes growing heavy. They slid shut and he wanted only to fall into the warm embrace of a nice, healing sleep. Or maybe curl up in Heero's arms, but he knew that certainly wasn't going to happen. Not here and now, with Wufei sitting stiff-backed in that corner.
"It seems like OZ is keeping us a little longer," Heero remarked, his blue eyes fixed and burning into him. They were trying to tell him something - hell, was Heero *worried* for him? "And since they're letting us live, don't die yet."
Duo tried to control the little leap his heart insisted on making. Heero was just concerned with him as a fellow pilot - someone who could pilot Gundam. Right?
"Yeah, no problem," he returned, slumping even closer to the nice cool pavement. He'd been awake for so long, this was a positively palatial bed. "I won't die that easily. For the colony...watch me...I shall become death again." It was hard to muster up the proper enthusiasm, and he could tell Heero and Wufei weren't impressed. His voice was lacking that customary note of irrepressible triumph, but he was so damn tired...
"Ja, oyasumi..."
Heero watched Duo drift off, and then it was Wufei who muttered something similar and turned, laying himself out on the cold slab of stone. He waited a long time until the Chinese pilot's soft snores punctuated the air. He waited even longer, just to be sure. And then he crossed the cell, and knelt beside the body of the crumpled American pilot.
Duo stirred under his touch, murmuring something.
With infinite care that he had never shown to anything else before in his life, Heero gathered Duo up into his arms. Even so, the braided boy blurted a muffled protest as the movement stirred up pain.
Heero checked him over, as he'd done before. He went over every inch of Duo's body, checking for injuries that needed immediate attention or care, or even worse an internal injury that could finish him off. He completed the circuit and helped Duo pull his pants and shirt back on, wincing in pain. But he wasn't hurt too badly. He'd gotten off surprisingly easy.
"Saa, Heero, didn't know you cared..." Duo mumbled.
Inside, he flinched as the corners of his eyes tightened. *Touché*. He supposed he deserved that. But he pulled Duo back into his arms anyway, hands stroking over the wayward strands of hair that had worked free of the braid, fingers moving almost of their own accord.
Duo was still for a long moment, eyes closed, and then he released a tiny sigh and curled up in his arms, snuggling closer to his chest and seeking warmth. The violet eyes opened and regarded him. Heero looked back, wishing he had the strength to say something. And then words came back to him, from a place he thought he'd long suppressed. *I'll tell you one last thing.... no matter what happens, act on your feelings.*
Odin Lowe had tried to give him something upon their last meeting that the rest of his life sought to smother. His training hardened him into a tool, something without emotion. Yet the man had told him something that, in Heero's estimate, contradicted everything he'd been taught. Why? It was something he had puzzled over for a long time.
By some twist of fate, they were here together again. Heero hardly believed in second chances.
He knew he'd never get a third.
"Duo...I..." He ducked his head, brow wrinkling. He started at the touch of warm fingers cupping his cheek, brushing lightly, then tracing his lips.
"It's okay. I know," Duo replied, then gave him a gamine grin. "I was stupid, too. I never should have told you to leave. You literal bastard."
Heero's lip quirked. "I could drop you onto that cold, hard floor," he threatened.
"But you won't," Duo smiled beatifically, then he clutched at Heero's arm weakly, his expression turning desperate. "You won't, will you Heero? Promise me you'll never drop me again."
Heero met his eyes, that one sentence tearing him to shreds. "I..." He struggled for the safety of the cold, impassive mask.
Duo's smile trembled, then firmed. "It's all right."
He grasped his chin gently, turning his face up as it sought to look away from him. "I can't promise anything. You know why. I..." He slipped his arm back around Duo, and they fell into the quiet rhythm of breathing together. Duo felt right.
Duo nodded feebly against his chest. "Wakarimashita." He tried for another grin. "I understand, but it doesn't make me feel any better, ne?"
Heero bent his head, forehead nearly touching Duo's. The violet eyes fluttered up at him. "Duo, I..." His voice grew thick. Duo pressed against him, making a quizzical encouraging noise. "I want to hold you always."
He couldn't talk of love. They both knew that was unfair, to give voice to that tacit promise the words defined even as they both might want it badly. But, if not love, then how did he feel?
How did he feel? *Act on your feelings.* What were those? Heero absently flexed his hand at the base of Duo's skull, massaging the hair and skin there. Duo fit so comfortably in his arms. For the first time ever, something felt right in his life.
He *felt.* And that was it, in a sudden spark of flaring awareness. He felt something.
It was his failure as a soldier. And maybe, just maybe, the salvation of something else.
End of Part 4
(:./talya/loss4)
