Disclaimer: The song "Empty Chairs At Empty Tables" is from Les Miserables. It's an excellent musical. Get the music and listen to it NOW! Oh, and of course Gundam Wing doesn't belong to me.
Empty Chairs At Empty Tables
By: Penybright
~*~
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone...
~*~
It was a cold, rainy day. Wind whipped the pelting rain, smashing it into a lone figure. Standing outside in the gloomy darkness was a solitary young man. He wore no rain coat, and had no umbrella either to shield him from the rain. He stood solemnly, allowing the rain to wash over him like his guilt, soaking him to the bone, and even deeper, his tormented soul. He shivered slightly, but made no move to seek shelter. It was fitting weather for this day, he supposed. Gazing at the memorial before him, he allowed the memories to take him.
~*~
Here they talked of revolution
Here it was they lit the flame
Here they sang about tomorrow
And tomorrow never came...
~*~
Had it really only been a year ago? To him it seemed as if ages had passed. He felt old and tired. Tired of running, tired of trying to forget... He would never forget. They had all believed, been so sure, so firm in their beliefs. They had made a promise to protect the future, a future without war...
At the time, they had no idea what the cost of that promise would be. He knew that even if they had known, their decision would still stand. Ironically, what they had fought so hard for had been in vain. The young man grew angered at the thought. His friends had paid the ultimate price for nothing. If any of them had to die a worthless death, it should have been him!
~*~
From the table in the corner
They could see a world reborn
And they rose with voices ringing
And I can here them now
The very words that they had sung
Became their last communion
The lonely barricade at dawn...
~*~
He remembered that day, the memory was fresh and stark. He remembered their meeting in the dimly lit room, the rusted metal table they had sat around. There they had discussed their plans. None of them had backed down. They accepted their fate with dignity. Upholding a peaceful future was more important to them than anyone else could fathom. Had they only known what their decision would cause. They were doomed to fail from the beginning. Their deaths meant nothing.
It had happened at dawn. He had been forced to watch. Forced to watch each of his comrades die a meaningless death. He should have helped them! He knew that he could have done nothing, but that didn't wash away the pain, the pain of watching his four friends being sacrificed in the name of a peace that was nonexistent. He had screamed for them to stop, for them to take him instead. Let them live, take his life... it was meaningless. For the first time in his life, he had truly broken down, actually resorting to begging them to stop. Instead, they took twisted glee out of watching him suffer.
"Why?" he whispered harshly to the cold stone before him. "Why do I still live while you are dead?"
~*~
Oh my friends my friends forgive me
But I live and you are gone
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on
Phantom faces at the window
Phantom shadows on the floor
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet no more...
~*~
He found himself sometimes wishing, hoping, it had only been a dream, a nightmare that he would wake from. He found himself hoping that they would walk through the doors at headquarters the next morning. They never returned, and they never would. He couldn't help but feel guilty for being to only one of the five to still live. He had thought he would be the first to perish, but fate seemed to have a way of continuing his life, no mater how hard he tried to end it.
That day haunted his dreams every night. He would often wake up screaming and shaking, his eyes filled with terror. He had been the one they had spent their last moments with. He had comforted them till they slipped into the next world. He remembered so vividly the crimson aberration everywhere. There was blood, so much blood. It stained the floor, and it stained his own hands, burning a brand eternally into his soul. And after everything, it was all for naught. They had still plunged the world into war.
~*~
Oh my friends my friends
Don't ask me
What your sacrifice was for
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will sing no more
~*~
Rain continued to shower down relentlessly, as thunder echoed distantly. The young man standing before the memorial sunk to his knees in grief. For the second time in his life, he truly began to cry. His hot tears mixed with the cool rain, swirling together.
When had the world gone so wrong?
~ Well? As for who the remaining pilot is... I have my own opinion, but what's yours?