07-Jun-2000
Hi hi! Well, I am flattered by the response this fic is getting, since I had absolutely convinced myself that it was going to be a massive stink bomb ^_^ Thank you so much to everyone who has replied to the previous parts, feedback really means a lot--as the recent threads over C&C have indicated. Anyway, I'll get on with it now.
Title: Breaking Predestination 4/?
Author: TB
Archive: GW Addiction, pleases
Category: AU, some yaoi
Pairing(s): R+1, 2x1, 5xSally and others that will
come in but not necessarily be the focus
Rating: R
Warnings: Confusing, language, angst
Spoilers: yes
Notes: Takes place in AC 202. The series and EW are
cannon for this fic. I'm borrowing military and
space-ship stuff rather heavily from Star Trek.
Feedback: please, if you feel so moved
Disclaimers: I don't own GW nor do I profit by
borrowing the characters and putting them in a
truck-load of trouble and romantic dead-ends.
Une set the papers aside just as Noin entered the room.
"Legit?" was all the other woman asked.
Une nodded. Her face was drawn, her eyes a little haunted. "Only I could have written this. There are certain statements made--things that only I know."
Noin could read the Lady's distress, and felt a little lost. Her training had always been around men, dealing with men, and consequently she often had little use for females, outside of Relena Peacecraft. Another result of that sort of lifestyle was an inability to deal with situations where Noin was sure a more--feminine--hand would be useful.
But she did the best she could. "Bad?" she murmured, sitting across from Une.
The brown-haired woman had lifted a knuckle to her lips and was biting absently, lost in her own thoughts. She inhaled abruptly when Noin spoke, and nodded.
"According to this," she said, tapping the packet, "if it is all to be believed... all hell is going to break loose, Lucrezia. This will be far, far worse than the war of 195, and makes the Eve war look like a child's joke."
Hirde slept not six feet away, completely dead to the world in her weariness. As hard as he'd tried, his mind was too wound up in business to achieve even the minimal restful state necessary for sleep. Maxwell stood at yet another window, staring out at the darkening grounds below--the first patch of green grass he'd seen in at least four years. Visits to Earth were non-existent. He couldn't decide if the view was making him nostalgic or not; other problems kept crowding in on him from all sides.
His crew would be restless. They would need some time to relax, but they were good people, and he knew that even if he didn't call up to the satellite with orders to begin repairs, they'd be working ten-hour shifts by morning. Winn was probably already cloistered somewhere with a catalogue of everything in Storage and a ship schematic, to see what he could rip off the walls and convert to spare parts. They were the best crew in Space, and Maxwell loved them all. If he could have left them behind, he would have--but this conflict was theirs, too, and their place was here, where they could give back every humiliating defeat they'd had to take.
Seeing everyone again wasn't as hard as he'd thought it would be. With one obvious exception, of course--also consider, he thought wryly, that he hadn't yet been forced to meet with anyone who'd really been all that important in his life. There were a few names he was dreading hearing, but he'd just have to deal with--
He heard the door opening, and turned.
Heero Yuy. Who else? Maxwell gave him a courteous nod, and attempted to ignore the lump in his throat. "Good evening."
Heero grunted. Maxwell looked dead on his feet. Heero took the time, now, to examine the changes that two decades had made in the face that was imprinted in his mind. The braid was shorter, falling only to mid-back and tucked into his jacket. The cobalt eyes were squinted, not wide with mock innocence or sparking with laughter, manic or otherwise. The mouth was thinner, a slash of bitterness. The once expressive round cheeks had hollowed out and become blank.
Empty.
Maxwell read his silence. "I know what I look like," he murmured. "But you... you're exactly as I remembered you."
Heero shut the door, and walked toward the Captain slowly, noting the woman on the bed and slight breeze from the open window, the absence of light in the room as the last of the sun's brightness disappeared. He stopped when he stood only a few paces away from the older man. "Am I?"
Maxwell's eyes flickered over him. "Yes. Exactly. Young. And--" He swallowed with difficulty. "And--beautiful."
Something drew him to close the distance. They were of nearly equal height, only an inch or so to Maxwell's advantage. The Captain lifted a hand and began to trace the line of Heero's cheekbone, until his thumb brushed across the full frowning lips. "Do you know," the man said, "it had been years since I'd seen you. All I had of you was the memory. Going back to *her*, without even a good-bye."
"Words were unnecessary."
"Not to me."
Heero made an intuitive leap. "I'm dead in your time, aren't I?"
Maxwell looked away, and his hand dropped from Heero's face.
"That's why you came back." Heero was suddenly angry. "How could you be so selfish? As long as I was alive you could pretend that one day I'd come back. Then Dr. J shows you how to jump time and you think suddenly you've got the second chance God never wanted you to have--"
Those words stung Maxwell. "Selfish? *You* would think that. There's nothing selfish in saving a friend. And yes, maybe I did think that, but I assure you it was a *very* far second to the necessity of coming back here to prevent a war like you've never seen! Don't you dare quote God to me, Yuy. God fucked us over and left us to rot!"
The furious words woke Hirde. She sat up groggily, and saw the confrontation near the door. Immediately she was on her feet and coming to stand beside her Captain. "Duo--" she started.
"Not now," he snapped.
For a moment, Hirde stiffened, hurt. Her slender hands fisted, and she stood helpless for a long minute. Heero watched her curiously; and suddenly she turned on him.
"It's all *your* fault!" she hissed. "I hate you so much sometimes I wonder how I can still breathe around it!" She stalked past him, none-too-subtly ramming him in the shoulder as she passed, and flew out the infirmary door, slamming it behind her.
Maxwell drew a deep breath. "Damn," he muttered, and started after her. Heero grabbed his arm.
"Let her walk it off," he said, much more quietly than before. "The last person she wants to see right now is you."
That blunt bit of advice seemed to make sense to the Captain; he hesitated, then nodded. "You're right. Look, Heero, I'm sorry--"
"Why? Apparently, it was something *I* did." Heero let Maxwell go, and stood looking at him. After a long time, he said, "Tell me how it happened. The whole story."
"No."
"Why 'no'?"
"Because I'm a Captain," Maxwell retorted, "and I out-rank you. If I don't want to tell you, it isn't going to be told. Now get out of here."
"No."
Maxwell's jaw clenched. "Why 'no'?"
"Because I'm Heero Yuy," the pilot retorted, "and I say so."
Maxwell stared at him--and then he suddenly relaxed. "Go," he repeated, but gently. "In the morning, when Lady Une is ready to accept our presence here--I'll tell you then. It's not such a pleasant story that I want to tell it twice."
"*That* is acceptable reasoning," Heero grunted. He moved to the door, and was about to leave when the Captain's voice stopped him. "Heero?"
He looked back. "Yes?"
Maxwell tried to smile. "I missed you. I would have moved the world to get you back. But I didn't. I knew you would never forgive me."
Heero nodded through the swift, awful pain in his chest, and left as quickly as he dared.
End Part 4
(:./erin/break4)
