03-Nov-2001
Title: Only Human
Author: Hope of Dawn
Feedback: C&C appreciated!
Archive: GW Addiction at http://www.gwaddiction.com
Legal stuff: None of these characters are mine. Gundam Wing belongs
to Bandai, Sunrise, and Sotsu Agency, among others. For time-wasting
purposes only and not for profit, so don't sue, 'kay?
Writer's Notes: This story is set in the same universe as 'Running
With the Moon' and the other stories in the shapeshifter saga,
however, it's told from a slightly different point of view. Please
remember that this is an AU, and while I'm playing in and around
series canon, don't be surprised when I take a left turn at
Alberquerque. If you can't handle, don't read.
Warnings: Angst! Also violence of the big-explosion-type kind.
Shonen-ai and OOC-ness I leave to the reader to decide. *smirk*
Hello, everyone--I was going to try to get this out for Halloween,
but certain characters (glares at said characters) where insisting on
more stuff, and just generally being difficult. As it turns out, it
was probably a good thing I waited--that way I got to see Bonne and
Vonne's lovely fic first! More werewolf fics, woo hoo!
Anyway, in case anyone is wondering, this fic isn't a take off of
theirs--it's based on my own little AU that started with 'Running
With the Moon'. It helps to read the other stories if you wanna get
a handle on the world--but it's not required. Anyway, on to the fic!
/"What did they say?"/
/"As expected, they said no."/
At first the words are merely sound without meaning, a background rumble to my vague realization of wakefulness.
/"Damn them! They're playing games with us, Treize!"/
The ward is dim and quiet; white walls echoing their voices farther than they realize.
/"Of course. As we are with them. You have been too obvious in your stalk, my friend. The old men of Romefeller will never let you take Sanq, now that they know how important it is to you." /
There is a pause in the transmission; the idle shift of papers rustling in the background. /"We can still work around it, of course. I can send Lady Une, or perhaps Noin to --"/
/"Sanq is mine, Treize!"/
Even in my half-sedated haze, his anger thrums along my bones, shocking me up to full alertness. The reaction is both automatic and instantaneous. I know how dangerous that rage will be if pushed.
/"Zechs..."/
/"Don't stand in my way on this, Treize, I'm warning you. I don't want to fight you. Not on this."/
There is another long pause, weighted and threatening. My injuries are making themselves known and I lick dry lips, resisting the urge to shift and try to find a more comfortable position. Past experience tells me it will do no good--and he will certainly hear.
/"Very well. I shall make the arrangements."/
I'm surprised at Khushrenada's easy capitulation, but I can understand his reasoning. He knows that this is the one thing that Zechs would never back down on. The general is nothing if not practical.
/"Thank you, my friend."/
/"You are going to take backup, I trust?"/
Despite Treize's polite phrasing, it is clear to me that disagreement is not an option.
/"Of course. Noin will be accompanying the squadron as my 2IC, along with Otto."/
/"Otto?"/
I tense, listening hard. Something tells me I'm going to like what I'm about to hear.
/"I had heard that he was injured. Are you sure that he is able?"/
/"His internal injuries are healing, but slowly. There is some recurring bleeding, but the doctors seem to think he will recover, given time."/
/"And does he have that time?"/
A new wariness seeps into Zechs' reply.
/"What are you saying?"/
/"Zechs--my friend. Otto is only human, after all; he cannot Hunt like we do. He is killing himself trying to keep up with you."/
I stare blankly up at the ceiling tiles, tracing the edges of a rust-tinged water stain with my eyes.
/"I told you--he will recover."/
/"This time, perhaps... but what of the next? Have you thought of what you will do when he falters and falls? The Hunt does not allow for human weakness."/
/"What would you have me do, Treize? Reward his loyalty by sending him away?"/
There is no reply, for which I am grateful. The general is a brilliant strategist, but ruthlessly practical underneath his noble exterior. I don't need to hear his answer to know what he would do. Zechs, on the other hand...
/"You know I can't do that. He stays with me."/
I let go of the breath I've been holding, sudden relief making my lungs hitch painfully. The conversation outside breaks off suddenly, and I grimace, knowing that they have heard me.
/"He's conscious--I have to go."/
/"I understand. I'll deal with things on my end."/ Treize's voice softens by the barest fraction. / "Good luck, my friend."/
There is the snap of the com switching off, and I turn my head on the pillow, watching the doorway. There's no use in pretending I'm asleep, even if I was so inclined. The rap of approaching footsteps heralds his arrival, deliberately loud--most likely in order to avoid surprising the nurses.
He pauses in the doorway, his broad-shouldered form backlit by the corridor lights. "You heard us?"
"Some," I admit, and redirect the question slightly, back to Sanq. You are leading the final attack on Sanq--tomorrow?"
"Yes." He moves into the small curtained area without bothering to turn on the lights, maneuvering easily around the I.V. stand and other miscellaneous medical clutter. "You know I would wait for you to recover, Otto, but..."
Sometimes I forget just how young he is.
Pulling myself upright with the assistance of the bed rail, I meet those intent eyes. "Zechs--you and I both know what Sanq means to you." I look down, one hand rubbing idly at the tape holding the IV in place. "The moon is close to full, isn't it?"
Zechs rubs the back of his head wryly, settling down on a stool. The partially open blinds over the window throw barred shadows over his face, concealing his face more effectively than any mask. "I shouldn't be surprised. You keep better track of the moon than I do."
"I keep track of it *because* of you," I correct him. "We're both soldiers, Colonel. We both know this is your only chance to reclaim Sanq before the full moon--and before Romefeller finds out what's going on, and interferes." I look at him somberly, knowing he can taste the truth in my words. "That's why I pushed as hard as I did, getting TallGeese to you, my lord. Don't waste this chance."
He reaches over, squeezing my hand carefully in gratitude. I can feel the latent power in those steel-tendoned fingers, and the careful restraint. "Don't worry, Otto. I won't."
Shoving the stool back, he leaves the room with a purposeful stride. I lay back against the pillow gingerly, and close my eyes. Single-minded to a fault, that one, ever since I've known him.
/"You can't go back! Don't forget it was a miracle that you came back alive! I'll go to the Sanq Kingdom. You stay here!"/
The mission is a failure.
I huddle against the side of the tent unnoticed, arms wrapped around my ribs, trying not to cough. The moon rises over the ragged treeline, glowing and serene and a mere hair's-breadth away from full.
/"I can't do that."/
/"Then, I'll let you go only if you promise not to use the TallGeese."/
To be so close--scenting the winds of his homeland, the rustling of its pines--only to be barred by something as trivial as a Mobile Suit. The knowledge must be driving Zechs mad.
/"Noin! We need the TallGeese."/
There's a desperate truth to his words, more than she realizes. He knows, and I know, what Noin does not; that he will not be able to pilot the TallGeese. Not tonight. His injuries are negligible, but the call of a full moon is not... and the instincts of the Hunt leave no room for Mobile Suits.
I know what I have to do.
I'm moving before I realize, stumbling away from the tent. Zechs is distracted by his argument with Noin; otherwise I would never have been afforded this chance. All I need, however, are a few precious minutes, and he won't know what I'm doing until it is too late.
The shadowed bulk of the Suit looms before me, coolly gleaming silver in the moonlight. The whir of the lift-line is silent and smooth as it carries me upward, stepping off, I raise my face to the wind as I stand on the TallGeese's cockpit deck. There's a snap to the air--a lingering scent of smoke, hanging with a premonition of battles to come. Somberly, I snap one last salute towards the camp. Then I turn away, and seal myself inside my mechanical cocoon.
I ignore the usual preflights, heating up the engines as fast as possible. The thrusters fire with a rising scream, scorching the earth anew. The subsystems flicker online in a cascade of red-to-green lights across my boards, the the main systems, mere moments behind. Without preliminaries or warnings, I throw the TallGeese into the air recklessly, pushing for maximum speed.
This, at least, is something I can do for you, my lord.
A hissing scream escapes from between my clenched teeth as the acceleration pushes already-damaged ribs further out of alignment. Stars pinwheel furiously on my screens as I fight TallGeese for control, even as I ride the Vernier engines for every bit of acceleration they're worth. My vision dims, black edges encroaching as I huff for air.
The com chirps. /"Otto! What are you doing?!"/
I smear the back of my hand across my mouth, swiping away the betraying trickle of blood before I reply. "My apologies, my lord, but the Tallgeese is the only one capable of gaining control of the Sanq kingdom. I promise--I won't fail you!"
/"Stop! You'll be killed!"/
I look directly at the com for the first time, and muster up a smile. "If I can die for you, Zechs, I won't regret it."
/"Otto..."/
My voice is almost gone--and I have no more strength to spare for arguing. "My apologies, my lord, for leaving you in this manner. In return for my life, I'll win a victory for you."
/"Otto!"/
I peel one hand off the controls long enough to toggle off the com, then lock it back around the throttle. A broken rib stabs red fire into my side as my lips peel back in a grimacing snarl.
"All right, you vicious beast. Let's see what you can do!" I slam the throttle forward, kicking both engines with a roar. The sudden burst of speed throws me against the harness--I feel something snap in my shoulder as the cockpit creaks and rattles around me. The gyros swing widely as TallGeese bucks under my hands, threatening to escape my sweaty grip. Then tactical comes on line, showing multiple OZ blips in my flight path.
There's a hail from the Aries squadron. /"Falcon leader to unauthorized aircraft--you are entering restricted airspace. This is your only warning. Change course and--"/ I toggle open the visuals, and he stops, eyes widening with surprise. /"Lieutenant Otto? What--"/
"Don't interfere with me... " I order harshly, hunched over my controls. I choke off a cough, bright blood spattering my screens. Killing them is not what I'm here for, but I cannot allow OZ to stand in my way. "I won't last too long, anyway."
TallGeese has already streaked past the first few Aries even before I finish speaking. A few of the Aries open fire, random shots rattling the armor plating, but this beast of mine will not be deterred.
My vision is graying out--narrowing as I watch the Sanq base swell in my sights with hot eyes. The pain in my chest is a continuous screaming ache. I feel a hot trickle of blood from my ear--but can't feel the pain.
The laser cannons fire, their bright beams sizzling across the sky in a lethal crossfire. I fight for a breath. My hands are numb, unresponding--but my course is set, defenses up, and my weakness no longer matters.
Teeth bared in a snarl, I shout my defiance.
"Zechs! Banzai!" There is a thundering crash, and a blast of white-hot fire whips across my face. Blackness leaps to swallow me as I hear the roar of fire and anger over the wind--and in it, perhaps my name.
Screaming. So much screaming.
I/He was so young./
/It had been my first posting. I was a raw recruit, fresh and eager out of the Academy, full of illusions of immortality./
"Laser cannons down, sir! The main generators have been hit!"
/My first assignment was to be an assistant underclerk to the liaison to the Peacecraft royal family. I had been so disappointed./
"Get out of there! Where the fuck is fire control?! "
I'm crumpled--broken in pieces like a wooden puppet. The hiss and crackle of flame fades together with the voices, dimly, blurring into a steady sound. I can't feel the heat. Memory blends in with reality. /They've broken through into the palace! They're killing the royal family!/
/I was only eighteen. Official reports had said that it was a coup d'etat by rebel forces--but we'd seen the Alliance insignia on their uniforms. We knew we wouldn't be allowed to live. Wrong place, wrong time./
/My CO had been a career diplomat--sturdy, florid-faced, and unflappable. The rest of us had been told to scatter, to remove all OZ insignia, and escape. Even so, he chose to stay with the King and Queen, covering their escape./
"It's no good, sir. The communications tower has collapsed!"
/He died along with them, ambushed and gunned down in a weedy, little-used courtyard. I watched, helpless, from an upstairs window. There was a scuffling behind me, and I whipped around, gun drawn./
/It was the prince./
"--secure that damned suit before it blows sky-high!"
/I'd never even heard him coming. He'd been watching, from the corner. He'd seen it all./
"Perimeter's down--we've got incoming all over, sir!!"
/I put up my gun, shaking. The prince just stood there, blank-eyed in his ragged little suit. He couldn't have been more than ten. There was a hot, reflective glow in his eyes that I didn't understand./
"Captain! The pilot's still alive."
/The little prince whipped around, snarling like an animal, and I heard the sounds of searching. Without thinking, I dove for the boy, wrapping a hand over his mouth as he struggled and kicked. Then I hissed as he sank fangs--fangs?--into my hand, and ripped and tore. I stepped backward, trying to hide behind the curtains--and fell backwards, down into the dark, twisting steps of a servant's stair./
Was it enough? The roaring is louder. There is the clank of boots against metal.
"--then put a bullet in him, private, and finish the job!"
/The warren of servant's stairs and hidden hallways through the palace were dusty and fetid, adding to the stink of my own fear. Panting, I wrapped the little boy in my uniform coat, trying to cover the betraying whiteness of his clothes. After the initial tumble, he had stopped fighting. His eyes and mine watched from the shadows as the commandos systematically butchered everyone in the palace./
/No witnesses./
"Yessir!"
/The prince seemed to be able to hear them coming long before I could--I learned quickly to pay attention. He'd sniff the air, then silently point in the direction we needed to go. Too numb to ask questions, nerves strung wire-tight, I went where he wanted./
/The servant's passages led to a wine-cellar--the wine-cellar to long-abandoned utility tunnels. We crawled out of a subway access three blocks from the palace proper--and came face to face with a surprised Alliance squad. There was no time to react. I shoved the prince's head back down./
/They opened fire./
/I never got a shot off, lifting my gun only halfway before the first bullet slammed me against the metal frame of the door. The second kicked my leg out from under me and spun me around. I fell helplessly, clutching my useless gun./
/The snarl started low--a rumbling I could feel more than hear--before it escalated into a full-throated roar of rage. I saw the prince's eyes, blue and glowing in the darkness behind me. Then they slanted, and *changed*--and a snarling tiger leaped over me, claws out. He ripped them apart; a casual swat of a taloned paw tearing through muscle and tendon, the crush of fangs ripping their way through bone. The soldiers shot wildly, screaming in fear. It made no difference./
"OZ has broken through into the base--but they're not calling for our surrender!"
/Only when they were all dead did the animal stop, panting heavily. Fur gleamed white where it wasn't spattered by blood, black stripes curling down heaving sides into a pattern of light and dark. Blue eyes regarded me warily; I realized with vague surprise that for all its size, the tiger was clumsy-footed and lanky--only half grown./
/Perhaps it was the blood loss, but it never occurred to me to be afraid./
The pain is nearly all gone--I'm drifting, distant and detached. A loud click resounds against my ear--the hammer of a gun, drawn back slowly and deliberately.
An odd thought floats its way into the raggedy remains of my brain. Am I supposed to be scared?
"Burn in hell, you sonuvabitch."
Okay.
The gun goes off, thunderously loud against my ear. I wait for the impact of the bullet, and idly notice that my chest doesn't hurt anymore. Oh--it's because I'm not breathing. Did I die before he could shoot me? Ironic, that.
There's screaming in the distance. Cries of /'help me!'/, mingling with the roar of the fire. Is this Hell?
The screaming ends in a wet gurgle. How odd. The roaring stops. Did somebody put out the fire?
:...Otto...: The voice echoes oddly in my head. : Damn it, Otto...:
My lord... Milliardo?
:Don't you die on me, Otto! You hear me?!:
I don't think. .
:Breathe!:
I can...
:Breathe!!:
My lord...
:BREATHE, DAMN YOU!!:
I breathe--sucking in air with a painful wheeze. My face twists with effort, tears running helplessly down my face. The pain screams back with redoubled force, and I try to twist away from it, flee back into oblivion.
:Stay with me, Otto.:
One eye is crusted shut; with a monumental effort, I squint the other one open. Rubble slides everywhere as a ebony-striped form shoulders its way into the cockpit, filling every available inch of space with white-furred muscle. Zechs' searing blue eyes catch and hold mine, luminous and reflective in the tiger's heavy-angled face.
I work my mouth for a moment, manage a husked question. "It worked?"
:Yes. You did it Otto--we reclaimed Sanq.:
I sigh in relief, closing my eye. "Good..." My body sags, bereft of that last little bit of tension.
:Otto!:
I blink blearily at him, and his voice gentles.
:I need you, Otto--stay with me.:
Need?
:Breathe, dammit! You're not dying until I let you!:
But... broken...
:You're going to live.:
But...
:Live!:
My mind feebly casts around for an escape--finding instead a vibrant warmth, as if Zechs has poured the fire of his soul inside mine, buoying me up with his strength. Refusing to let me leave.
:LIVE!:
I hear searchers in the distance, now. Whether they belong to OZ or the Alliance no longer seems to matter. There is the warmth of fur around me, and the tang of blood. Inside its circle, I'm safe. Protected. My lips stretch into a cracked, lopsided smile, and I let myself sink against his strength.
I'm only human. But sometimes that's enough.
The End
More writer's notes on 'Banzai!': The word was originally derived from the meaning "May you live a thousand years.", and the term was typically a wish directed to the Emperor--that by their sacrifice *he* might live a thousand years. I deliberately chose to keep 'Banzai' because of this, rather than the English substitution 'Long live King Zechs'. IMHO, it was vastly more appropriate for the theme of this fic.
And yes, Zechs is a Siberian tiger instead of an Asiatic one--the coloring seemed to fit better. *grin*
Back to 'Running With The Moon'
(:./hope/human)
