21 Jun 2000
Another little war fic that needed to be written. The song is very haunting and has been chasing me around the house for about two weeks. I wrote this to appease it.
kumi
Based on the song by Tracy Chapman.
DISCLAIMER: All Gundam Wing characters are property of Sunrise, Bandai Visuals, Sotsu Agency, and Asahi TV. This work is not written for profit, but for entertainment purposes only.
Pairing: none
WARNING: angst
Author's Notes: This fic is set just during episode 44, just after Relena talks to Zechs on the command deck of the Libra. It's in the form of a letter Zechs writes to explain to Relena what he's trying to do. It's also Zechs' way of saying good bye to her.
Punctuation note: Song lyrics are denoted by (...)
"I have the engineering report, Colonel."
"Is the mobile doll system fully operational?"
"The team is doing the last checks on it as we speak, sir."
"Good. What about the main array?"
"Well, there is that strange quirk that Reddings found in the code, but I don't think there's much we can do about that with the time we have."
"I agree."
"Your sister..."
"Yes? What about her?"
"She's asking to see you again."
"I told you, seeing her is pointless. She can't change my mind and she'll only be disillusioned. Best if she stays out of this whole bloody mess."
"Yes sir, but - what do you want me to tell her?"
"... Tell her I'll write her a letter."
(There is fiction in the space between
The lines on your page of memories
Write it down but it doesn't mean
You're not just telling stories)
Dearest Relena,
You ask me why, and I don't know what to tell you. In fact, I've come to believe in my nearly 20 years of life that the answer to "Why?" doesn't really matter. The important question is how to stop it all - the hatred, and the killing, and the endless procession of dictators and wars. That's what matters. And that's what I've taken as my last mission.
Before you came aboard today, the last time we were face to face was 13 very long years ago. The day was sunny and fair. You had a new dress that made you want to twirl around until you were dizzy. I went out for a walk on my own, and the world fell apart while I was away.
You were blessed then, not just because of Darlian's actions, but because you were so young the memories never registered, not permanently anyway. I know you were upset then, because I could hear you screaming as they carried you away. But 3-year-olds forget quite quickly and that was the blessing.
I wasn't quite so fortunate. The memories of a 6-year-old child are huge and important and become the dreams and nightmares we have, even when we're old and gray. That day has been my nightmare all these years...
Sweet Father - I saw him stand and face them, but in the end his gentleness was his undoing. His ideals were above reproach, his kindness infinite, but when they fired at him, he was only flesh and blood, with no protection and no way to fight back. He fell like a stone and a part of me was left there with him, on the floor of the Great Hall.
That was the beginning, dear sister. That was where this all started.
Perhaps it isn't really true. Perhaps I made it up and didn't really witness it as I remember doing. But would it really matter? Either way, he's dead, the nation was destroyed, and I was left to cultivate my need for vengeance.
(There is fiction in the space between
You and reality
You will do and say anything
To make your everyday life seem less mundane)
Your life was so different than mine. As a child it must have been heaven, to feel safe and wanted by people who simply had to be your parents. They'd been you're parents forever, hadn't they - because forever was short by three years. So you flourished, as you were meant to, growing up and feeling the privilege around you, expecting the world to turn out as you planned.
But what's good for a child isn't always good for the adult, and it was growing boring, wasn't it? The safety, the sameness, the absolute certainty that the sun would come up in the morning and your world would be the same as it was yesterday.
I know why you noticed Heero Yuy - why you were curious - because I felt the same way when I met him. I believe we both became obsessed with him, in our own ways, because he pointed to the way out. He opened the door and we both looked through it and saw something greater than ourselves. You saw the lure of danger, I saw the glory of genuine sacrifice.
We've loved him for it, and stalked him to get closer to it. But he was never the thing we truly wanted. What we wanted was release, you from the slow strangle of overprotection, and me from the cage of vengefulness I'd built myself. He was merely the key.
But now you've gone beyond him, and you've taken a step into a wider world. You speak and people listen, and I know from personal experience that it's heady stuff. But your words came at the wrong time. The warriors, myself among them, needed to bring humanity to the point where they would listen to you - *really* listen to you, and the message would reach far down into their souls. As much as you hate us and hate what we do, we make it possible for people to hear you.
(There's a science fiction in the space between
You and me
A fabrication of a grand scheme
Where I am the scary monster
I eat the city and as I leave the scene
In my spaceship I am laughing
In your remembrance of your bad dream
There's no one but you standing)
So I have come to the decision that getting people to hear you and those like you is the most important thing I can do with my life. The people of the colonies already know what is needed for true peace to come, but with their Earthly cousins still so weak, focused only on blood and war, they wouldn't last the first battle. So all of humanity, on Earth and in Space, need to watch what I do. They need to look at me, here in my ship, and see me as the monster. Only then will they truly be able to turn their backs on war. People seem to need a bogeyman to fight against. When he comes, they unite in order to face the threat. When enemies have to work together to overcome the monster, they cease being enemies and become one people.
I now willingly assume that role. I will be the monster in the sky, I will show them how desperately peace is needed for human survival. If I'm willing to go to this extreme, they can't help but see how important it is. And when they do that, they'll turn to you.
I don't expect to live through this battle. This is a sacrifice I make, the only way I can serve my father and bring peace to the world. But you, you will still be here when the battle is over. You will look on this time as a sad chapter of your life. You'll go on to craft the peace, as is your birthright. That's why you have to survive. Do everything you can to survive.
(Leave the pity and the blame
For the ones who do not speak
You write the words to get respect and compassion
And for posterity
You write the words and make believe
There is truth in the space between)
Tell them all about the beautiful world you envision. Tell them that disagreements can actually be worked out without arms and soldiers. Tell them that everyone really will agree to do it, and no nation will rise up against another again. Tell them all of that. Make sure they believe it , and above all, make sure you believe it too.
That lovely place you speak of can't be gained without the blood and fire of this coming battle. Without this sacrifice, without this blast of trumpets, the world you speak of is merely fantasy. Don't think too badly of the warriors who fight this last time. We're only building the scaffolding on which to hang that pretty dream. You'll use it in the coming years to make the dream reality, not only for you and your children, but for those who come after you as well. Our bodies will be the rock you build on.
Just keep believing it, dear sister. Believe that what you say can happen. How I wish I didn't know better...
(There is fiction in the space between
You and everybody
Give us all what we need
Give us one more sad sordid story
But in the fiction of the space between
Sometimes a lie is the best thing)
When it's over, tell them all I was insane. Tell them that I lost my hold on reality and had to be killed to save the world. Tell them I got too bitter from years of seeking vengeance on the ones who killed our father, who took you away from me before I could really know who you were. That's what they'll need to hear, to keep the monster alive in their hearts. As long as he's there, they'll remember the importance, the urgency of what they're doing. Keep telling the stories about me. Make them ugly and frightening, so that I'm forever seen as What Can Happen when people resort to war.
It's what they need to hear. It's for the best, really.
But keep some small part of your mind separate, and hold in that place my memories of you, trying to catch me in a game of tag. Playing Lady and the Dragon in the garden. Smiling at each other across the little breakfast table we shared.
That was your brother. He died 13 years ago, and he will always watch over you from heaven.
But don't let anyone know.
(Sometimes a lie is the best thing ...)
All my love,
Milliard
owari
(:./kumiko/bblood29)
