Pain, a gundam seed fanfic

Pain

There it is again. The steady cough, the violent shakes, the slow and painful cooling of his body…the life in him is dying out. He can feel it. And he knows he's not far from death.

Then the knock, "Sir, there's someone here to see you."

He looks toward the door, and for some reason, he wishes he had Lenore back; how Lenore would bring him soup when he had a cold, how she would make sure he stayed in bed, how she was always so kind...

Its been a while since he's been able to remember anything other than his name, and think about anyone other than himself.

His personal nurse is still at the door, and he's yelling and yelling, knowing it does him no good; she will stay until he listens to the message. "I don't want visitors today, so whoever it is, you can tell them to go home."

She winces, and her wrinkles are more visible now. "You might want to make an exception, Sir."

Gods, why do idiots surround him? "I am sick. I do not want to see anyone." Or rather, he doesn't want anyone to see him. To see how far he has fallen, to see the great Patrick Zala shattered and broken by mere human sickness.

Had anyone ever thought of him as great?

The nurse bites her lip as though to stop herself from saying something cruel. It doesn't matter anyway; he's already heard it all. "It's Lacus Clyne, sir."

Lacus.

Patrick frowns.

Lacus...?

"Let her in," he says against his better judgment. Within seconds the nurse is gone, and he is left alone in his large, empty bedroom. Lacus is here. Lacus... Maybe its the sickness eating at his brain, maybe its all the memories he's tried to suppress, or maybe its just been too long, but he can't seem to remember her face. Her name is familiar, and it scares him at how excited he is to see someone who might know Athrun. He hadn't seen anyone connected to his son since...

Since you 'branded' him a traitor, his conscious replies, and Patrick winces. Thinking of his only son is not what he wants to do in his final days. In fact, most days he tries to pretend he does not have a son; it makes everything so much easier than remembering. He brought it on himself, he reasons with himself, but today, his reasoning fails. Its funny how that lie has worked its magic over and over, but today, that's exactly what it is--a lie.

A calm hand is on his shoulder. "Remember me?" A familiar voice sounds, and for a moment, Patrick can pretend like he's not dying. For a moment, he is young again, and then he's sickly, and Lacus is trying to help.

But it only lasts a moment.

Ignoring her efforts to help, he looks at Lacus--oh, right, that's her-- studying her as hard as he can. A little taller, her face a pinch thinner--maybe it's just her eyes-- but she's still the same Lacus that was once engaged to his son. Ten years ago. Ten years since he's seen his son.

Ten years.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came because I heard you were ill."

And maybe she's still as kind as she was before.

"Is Athrun with you?" His voice is scratching and weak, but he doesn't care anymore. He hasn't said Athrun's name in so long that he's almost forgotten it; but he remembers it at the same time. He wouldn't forget Athrun. Never Athrun. His only son, the only thing he still has that reminds him of her...Lenore.

Is that why you branded him a traitor? Because you couldn't stand looking at the almost mirror reflection of your wife, your Lenore, your love and your life?

He doesn't answer the question.

He never does.

A part of him is amazed that Athrun is the first thing he brings up in this conversation.

Ten years...

If Lacus is as surprised, she doesn't show it. Instead, she just stares in her steady, calm manner, not bothering to look away. She's not afraid, and she won't be the first one to back down from whatever it is they are fighting over. Patrick looks away, and then looks back...and now there's something else in her eyes too. A bitterness, a heartfelt sorrow, as if to say, you had your chance and you lost it.

Patrick winces. Lacus doesn't notice.

"Hard for him to come with me, especially since you said you never wanted to see him again." A part of him laughs at the irony, while the other part of him wants to cry in regret.

"He---I'm surprised. I didn't think he would listen to me."

Lacus stares at him as though he's spouted a second head. "When has he not listened to you? He spent his entire youth listening to you."

Neither speaks for a moment, and the silence is killing Patrick. Please, he begs the gods, let me get through this.

Luckily, Lacus isn't one for silence either. "He's never going to forget what you did to him, you know."

"I didn't think that he would be able to. I haven't," he says, his voice near silence, laced heavily with regret.

"No," Lacus begins, a heavenly fire burning strong in her eyes. "You misunderstand me. He can forget, but he chooses not to because if he forgot his past, he'd forget you. He doesn't want that."

Silence again, except this time, its not as long.

"He's not on your side anymore, Mr. Zala," Lacus continues. "He hasn't been for the past ten years. Possibly before that. He may have never been on your side. I don't know."

The silence swallows them whole again.

"He's been married a while now." To this, Patrick's ears perk up.

"Really? To who?"

Lacus pauses for a moment before answering, as though debating whether she wants to tell him. "Cagalli. The Representative of ORB." She lets him take it in, and then she goes on: "She's a very sweet girl. Beautiful, too."

Lacus doesn't say anything else, but Patrick knows what she means to say. You would like her if you got past the fact that she's not a Coordinator."

"The Princess of ORB; interesting," he mutters beneath his breath. A quiet it's your fault, you drove him to it plays out in his head, but he ignores it. "I'd like to meet her," he says suddenly, and surprises himself by realizing that it's actually true. He doesn't know what's worse: the fact that he missed his son's wedding, or the fact that he's genuine when he says he wants to meet her.

"I wouldn't advise it," Lacus says lightly. "It's not a good idea to bother pregnant women."

Wait a minute… "She's pregnant?"

Lacus nods. "With Athrun's child, yes." She smiles warmly for the first time since she's been in the room. "Congratulations, Grandpa."

No, he wants to yell. Or rather, he wants Athrun to be there right now so he can give his son a good beating. Athrun is still just a baby---he shouldn't even know what sex means much less be having children.

Lacus watches the play of emotions across his face, and he knows she knows what he's thinking. "He hasn't been a child for a while, Mr. Zala."

Good heavens, he's going to be a grandfather. That is scary.

Before he can control it, the coughs begin again; the shivering returns, and the coldness he feels despite the heat of the room numbs him until he can barely breathe. He remembers all too well why Lacus is here.

"I'm dying, Lacus."

A pause. "I know."

There's a desolation he feels, a horrible, sinking revelation that he's never realized before. He's dying.

He's dying, and he's going to die without saying goodbye to his son.

"Lacus, please," he begins with a shady cough. "Tell him I'm sorry. Tell him I wish him well. Tell him to come home, I don't care what you tell him, but please make sure he knows that I'm sorry."

"Tell him yourself," she says, and Patrick realizes that Lacus is angry. Calm, quiet Lacus is angry. At him.

"I can't. I'm dying," he emphasizes, hoping that she will understand and convey his message.

"I guess he won't know, then," she replies, with finality in her voice.

"Why?" Patrick begs softly. "Why did you come here at all if you weren't going to help?"

"Because for the first time since I've known him, your son is happy. I'm not going to ruin that for him," she says quietly. "If you want to find him, he's in ORB with Cagalli, living his happily ever after. If you leave at this moment you might make it there in time to see your grandchild's birth. I know I plan to."

She gets up and walks to the door, turning to face him one last time to wish him good-bye.

No need though.

He's already gone.