Preventer Phoenix: Prologue By Zel
Homecoming
*AC 195*
Author Note: This is an additional warning: my writing tends to be violent, disturbing, and usually depressing. I also use a lot of profanity but I did try to keep it to a minimum here. I always like feedback whether it's negative or positive but if you feel the necessity to express your ignorance through flames they will be burnt. This is my first fanfic of any kind so be nice, damn it! (God, the story hasn't even started yet and I'm already cussing!) That said, please enjoy!
The room spun around her in total chaos. Men and women in both military and civilian garb whirled around her yelling and embracing, there was even an occasional tear stained face. The festivity did not reach the pretty raven-haired young woman though, who sat calmly like the eye of a wild storm, her reaction limited to a small smile and a slight softening of her harsh golden eyes. These remarkable glowing orbs were focused entirely on the huge screen in front of her where amidst the floating debris of the warship Libra the forces of White Fang and the World Nation reconciled before the watchful Gundams. She was memorizing the moment, imprinting the scene on her mind. Planting her hands on the control panel in front of her, she pushed away from it and stood, straightening her tall but slight frame. The celebration stopped short as she rose before the assembled group. It was almost comical to see the room full of adults looking to the slip of a girl for orders, but every ounce of her lean long body exuded strength and confidence. The congregation became solemn as she spoke.
" It's over," she whispered, her rich deep voice carrying throughout the control room despite her quiet voice and hanging head. She glanced up to stare out at the expectant crowd, tear-filled eyes meeting her calculating gaze. They wanted an eloquent speech but she was neither Lady Une nor Relena Peacecraft. She could offer them this though, and a sudden smile split her face. Drawing a hand through the shimmering black waves that fell to her small waist, she yelled, " We have won the impossible battle against human nature and we can all go home!"
The people erupted once more at this statement, 'home' was what they were all longing for, what they had all fought to protect. The choruses of cheers made the pretty girl throw back her head and laugh from sheer joy. She joined the rush of soldiers and civilians streaming from the building, unconsciously letting herself be buoyed along as she lost herself in her thoughts.
" They did it", she thought with some incredulity, " Five boys achieved the impossible goal and we have peace. Finally. It has been a long time coming." The human river floated her out the doors and into the dark night. Standing in the cool midnight breeze with her face upturned, she kissed her fingertips and flung her hands out to the stars, silently paying homage to the Gundams. Tears stung her eyelids but were quickly blinked away. The time for tears was later when she was safe and warm in her mother's arms.
"Suria! Hey Suria!" The girl whipped around as she heard her name being cried across the masses. Her hand dropped to her hip and brushed ever so lightly against the handle of her gun as her face settled into the all too familiar emotionless mask she usually wore. Then the crowd shifted around her and she caught a glimpse of the man struggling to reach her, moving against the current of people. A flicker of recognition crossed her face and her hand changed direction, bypassing her weapon to settle on her hipbone.
"Suria", he panted as he reached her, " I thought I lost you." He was greeted with a cold and unwavering stare and an even colder silence. "Ummm, Suria?"
"Don't call me that in front of people, Saul."
" They're too busy shouting themselves hoarse to hear me calling to you. Nice speech, by the way."
Suria continued to stare at him in silence, calmly waiting for her best friend to catch his breath and speak his mind. Saul Marcus was at least twenty years old, making him five years her senior, but he was far less mature. Luckily she was a patient person. He smiled and grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her into a crushing embrace. She smiled into the scratchy fabric of his OZ uniform and allowed him to hold her but never hugged him back. She gently pushed off his chest and looked at him resuming the impassive expression. Saul had a youthful open face with warm brown eyes and an unruly mop of sandy blonde hair. Tall and muscular, he was considered a handsome man by the women Suria worked with who couldn't seem to grasp the idea of a male/ female relationship that didn't include sex. He was her brother, in what she felt was the truest sense of the word, the only person still living to whom she entrusted the secret of her past.
"Listen to me Suria." His face lost its jubilant glow as he spoke, his voice thick with emotion. " Do me a favor and take your own advice."
"What are you talking about?" If the tears spilling from his eyes alarmed Suria she showed no outward signs of surprise or concern.
" Go home, little bird. They're waiting for you, I know it. You deserve this more than any of us. After a life like yours… well you need your childhood innocence back and your family can give it to you."
" I was never an innocent child. I never needed to be innocent."
" Please Suria, you need them. We all need family. They'll heal you better than I ever could. You can't be a goddamn brick wall forever!" His voice rose in anger as his face darkened and his hold on her shoulders tightened. " Someday that wall of yours is going to crack and all the emotion you've bottled up for the last five years will spill out and drown you if you're not careful. Trust me Phoenix, you can't hide from yourself anymore, not without a purpose to distract you. You feel the dam breaking already, I know you do. Let them help you."
With that he leaned in and brushed he cheek with his lips, pausing to whisper in her ear, "I will always love you with all my heart little bird. I never want to see you end up lost within the horrors of your own mind. Let go. Promise me that you'll go back and be what you should have been. Promise me."
She choked on the ball that had suddenly risen to her throat and clasped her hands around his neck. She returned his kiss and whispered back. " I promise. I'm going home."
* * * * * *
"I'm going home," Trowa thought to himself closing his eyes and allowing his mind to wander. He stretched his cramped body out in what little space the cockpit allowed, his long limbs reaching every corner of the tiny room. He longed to return home, even though the location of his home changed weekly, if not daily. He wanted to see his "family", the strange and wondrous group that took him in and protected him at threat to their own lives. He wanted to be with the sweet girl he thought of as his sister most of all; he missed her taunting voice and rambunctious nature. " I miss you Cathy," he whispered into the empty cockpit, eyes closed, smiling slightly.
"Yo, buddy! You still alive?" Duo's loud voice shook Trowa from his reverie, bringing him back to reality. Trowa's deep emerald eyes opened slowly and he saw the smiling face of the American pilot on his vidscreen. His face was lit up like a child's on Christmas morning. Actually, Trowa thought with some amusement, it was indeed Christmas morning.
"Yeah Duo, I'm fine. Just tired I guess." Trowa's voice was monotone and his face vague as he answered his ecstatic comrade.
" I think we all are", Duo responded, the wear of battle beginning to show on his face. " And more than a little homesick. I don't know about you, but I'm getting back to Hilde as soon as I can. I suppose The God Of Death is going into retirement." Duo sighed and leaned back, his smile returning. " After Quatre throws us a little victory party of course!" He looked at Trowa and winked before the screen blinked out, leaving Trowa alone in the darkness with his thoughts once more.
He made a quick decision. His hands flew across the control panel in front of him as he set a course for the last colony the circus had been performing on and flicked the thrusters into action. Heavyarms responded sluggishly, but quickly gained power and flew away from the other Gundams. Trowa dodged the mobile suit debris without so much as a glance.
"Trowa!! Where are you going?!" Quatre called to him worriedly, his voice full of concern for his best friend.
Trowa smiled and returned one word before cutting off all communications with his fellow pilots, "Home."
* * * * * *
"Home." Suria whispered the word over and over to herself like a mantra as she walked over the familiar cobbled street, amidst the bustling crowds. The people were joyous; the celebration of peace was in full swing here as it was in the entire earth sphere. She was worried that someone here would recognize her as she was recognizing them. She was in Florence, her city; she could have walked through this twisting labyrinth in her sleep. In the days before her disappearance, nearly every person had recognized her while she walked down the street. Now she only garnered appreciate stares from the young, and not so young, men enjoying the festivities, no shocked gazes of revelation.
The crowds were thinner now as she left the city proper and began the uphill climb to the country house where she had been born. Darkness was quickly falling, hastened by the ominous storm clouds that had hung in the eastern part of the sky all day. She wanted to arrive before the storm began, fortunately her long legs made short work of the hill and it seemed all too soon that Suria was standing before her own house, a place she had not seen for four years. It took three planes, a long train ride and an hour's walk to get here, but Suria felt that her true journey would begin only when she walked over that threshold. She caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the window and stared at herself trying to see what they would see when the door was opened.
The girl staring back at her from within the glare from the steadily setting sun's final rays on the glass was nearly a separate entity from the nervous Suria. The well-worn mask of cool indifference had once again taken up residence on her pretty features, completely covering all she was feeling. The silky black sheet of her hair further obscured her sun-bronzed face, adding to the mystery about her. Neither defense could hide the sharp intelligence in her almond shaped glittering amber eyes. Shifting uncomfortably in her high-heeled sandals, she desperately tugged the hem of her short light blue cotton dress downward in a futile attempt to cover her long tanned legs. She tried to smile at her pretty reflection but only succeeded in a pained expression. "Forget these stupid pretenses," she told herself, "they will know you the second they set eyes on you." And she raised her hand to knock on the door.
* * * * * *
Trowa raised his hand to knock on the door leading into Catherine's trailer. Before his hand could make contact with the door it flew open and the girl herself flew out like a bullet, slamming into his body. She was still dressed in the purple dress she had performed in only minutes before. A loud gasp escaped his mouth as she knocked the wind out of him unexpectedly. Catherine held on to the handsome boy she had come to regard as a little brother with all her might, burying her face in his chest, her tears ruining her stage make-up and staining his navy turtleneck.
" Trowa", she whispered his name and squeezed him close to her once more, trying desperately to convince herself that he was real and not a figment of her overactive imagination. He patted her short curled auburn hair and gently detached her from him. God, she had missed him. Though the war had ended only a few days ago, she had been searching every crowd for him every night since he left. In her heart she knew she never really expected him to be there, but her still heart leapt into her throat every time she saw a young man with brown hair in the audience. But tonight he had actually been there, real, tangible. She wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled up at him, gazing into those fathomless green eyes. Then she promptly punched him in the center of the chest, the exact place her head had rested a moment before.
"Damn you, Trowa! Do you know how worried I was?!" Catherine stood before the shocked pilot, hands on hips, glaring in a way that would have made Heero Yuy proud. Trowa gaped at her. Yes, he had expected a lecture and, hell, it was Catherine so a good amount of yelling would have been involved, but the punch had come out of nowhere. " Where the hell have you been? The war ended three days ago! I thought you weren't coming back." Her posture changed with the last statement, she slumped her shoulders and visibly struggled to contain her tears. " I missed you so much, Trowa" Catherine sighed as she crumbled back into his arms.
" I promised I'd come home, Cathy. I don't go back on promises."
* * * * * *
Suddenly a noise coming from the front room of the house caught Suria's attention and stopped her hand mid-gesture. Laughter sounded and happy voices trailed from the cracked window to her right. There was the soothing mumble of her mother's voice and the hearty laugh of her father. Sounds she never dreamed she would hear ever again. The sweetest sound she ever heard. Family. Homecoming. "What's the harm in spying on them a bit before I make my presence known", she thought and slid the few feet to the window soundlessly. There were certain talents that came from being a spy, after all.
It was the most beautiful scene she had ever witnessed. Her father, Guido Giotto Jr. sat in his place at the head of the table, a smile in his golden eyes, the eyes she had inherited. His straight black hair fell over his still attractive face though his forty odd years were beginning to show. Julia Giotto, her mother, sat opposite, delicate and beautiful features shining with laughter. The auburn waves that were her hair fell softly to her petite shoulders, accenting her deep black-brown eyes. Julia was descended from gypsies and their mystery was as evident in her as it was in her daughter. They were older, yes, but they were still as beautiful as Suria remembered if not more so to her world-weary eyes. Her brothers, Anthony and Guido, sat together on one side of the table, both smiling. They had been so young when Suria left, Guido nine and Anthony only seven, and they had changed so much. Anthony looked just like their mother, on the short side with reddish curls and eyes so dark they were almost black, but Guido could have been her twin if not for the age difference. His gold eyes sparkled as he too burst into laughter; she was too busy noticing the changes about him to listen to what had been said to make him laugh. His body had changed, begun to fill out, he looked as strong as she had been. They had always shared a bond and she missed him most of all. This was her family, by birth and by love; she could feel her angry armor beginning to melt simply by looking at them.
Then she stopped short. Suria prided herself on her powers of observation, but the raw emotion of the scene had clouded her eyes before she had been able to make a sweep of the room. Her heart stopped as her eyes fell on the last occupant of the room. It was a little girl, with shining wavy black hair and luminous gold eyes. This child couldn't be more than four years old, obviously born soon after Suria left. "Julia must have been pregnant", she thought, the realization barely registering as her heart began again slowly. This tiny girl looked like a girl of her age should, sweet, innocent, and obedient. Blissfully unaware. Suria herself had already learned to hide behind a cool calculating mask when she was five, god it hurt to look at this girl. Why the fuck was her chest constricting like that? Why did her eyelids sting so badly? She couldn't understand the loss of feeling in her legs. She stared at this tiny girl and felt the stirrings of anger and hate deep within her. Her sister, her replacement. The bitter taste of spite filled her mouth as she watched the girl. Though she looked innocent there was a great capability for violence within Suria, something that had existed long before she was trained to channel it into art. Her hands clenched and unclenched making fists at her sides.
Suria choked. What the hell was wrong with her? How could she hate this innocent child, her own flesh and blood, a child she had never even met? Realization hit her hard, stealing the breath from her lips. She couldn't go home, not now, not ever. Her return would tear this loving scene to pieces. The horror of her life would shatter this happy home. There were questions she could never answer, incidents that she never wanted to remember. Could she really subject the smiling family to this? How could she? People hated her; people wanted nothing more than to see her dead, she left to keep them safe but her homecoming would put them back in the line of fire. There would be no happy homecoming for her. And so Suria Giotto made the hardest decision of her life: she chose to walk away and never look back. Taking those steps away from the window was the most difficult thing she had ever done, more so than pulling a trigger, detonating explosives, harder even than killing a man with her bare hands. "This is the last time I'll ever set eyes on them", she promised herself and leaned forward to caress the cool glass of the window as tiny raindrops began sprinkling lightly around her. That's when Guido looked up. Golden eyes met golden eyes and Suria felt her resolve crumbling.
But she did it. Suria turned her back on the only love she had ever known, tears sliding down her face as the storm clouds that had been threatening to burst all day finally did. Fat cool raindrops crashed on her face and mingled with her hot tears as she slowly moved back down the long drive toward Florence. Suddenly she couldn't stand it, this closeness. She longed to put as much distance between herself and this place as possible. So she ran, sliding her feet from the confining shoes as she flew. Bare feet pounded hard unyielding pavement and splashed in ever deepening puddles on the roadside. She couldn't stop the tears from pouring down her cheeks; the barriers she had erected around her heart at the tender age of ten had cracked, baring her soul to the full horror of what she had done in her short life. The tears in her eyes became the tears of hundreds of women and children, all widowed and orphaned by her callused hand. They burnt her worse than acid and the mark they left was far more permanent as she stumbled back into the city.
The rain had not dampened the spirits of the people who still carried on in the street. They pressed around the sobbing girl, singing, dancing and laughing, a great joyous chorus slowly crushing the scared young woman. Too excited to notice her tears, they swirled her into their midst, pulling her into the wild wet dance. Suria panicked as they closed in, their smiling faces reminding her of the fanged mouths of hungry beasts. She couldn't see, blinded by tears and surrounded by a forest of revelers. She couldn't breathe, they were killing her! A hand clamped down on her wrist and she spun, wrenching her hand from the assailants grasp while simultaneously drawing a pistol from it's hidden sheath beneath her skirt. She planted it directly in the center of the offending man's forehead and fired. Her panic, her fear, her confusion took over and she squeezed hard on the trigger before even registering the elderly man's face. The shot rang true and clear as it passed through the man's head and slammed into the wall behind him sending bit's of plaster over the crowd.
It took a moment for the shouts of laughter and exhilaration to turn to screams. Those closest to her struggled to get away, but found themselves pressed against those who wanted to know what had happened. They all fell silent, all eyes locked on the barefoot girl in the waterlogged blue slip dress that clung to her frame like second skin, long ebony hair dripping rainwater that flowed down the backs of her legs to puddle at her feet and mix with the blood flowing to meet it. Her arm was still fully extended, the silver glint of the gun held in her outstretched hand mirroring the mad glitter in her eyes glowing in her remarkably calm face. Her arm dropped to her side and she took a single step forward and bent to touch the face of the man she had just killed, spreading his silver hair across his forehead to cover the bloody bullet hole. Four young men in the crowd took this moment of seeming distraction to rush at her, but they were not match for Suria. She disposed of them quickly, the first made the mistake of coming at her unaided and was immediately knocked unconscious by the butt of the pistol she still had. The others decide to come all at once but they too were thwarted by a few well-placed kicks and punches, meant only to debilitate not permanently harm. The last man dropped after an efficient gab to at pressure point inside the hollow of his collarbone sent him to his knees before her. Suria rushed through the remaining crowd before any one else could organize their mind enough to try to stop her. It had taken mere seconds for her to stop her would be capturers.
Shouts followed but Suria couldn't have stopped if she wanted to. She pushed her body past the breaking point, running mindlessly. Deep down she knew the route she was taking, leaving the city as quickly as possible, fleeing eastward toward the dawn star. Her feet broke open on the hard street, leaving bloody footprints that the rain washed away in seconds. Through the suffocating darkness she ran until she saw the first light of day on the horizon. Suria dropped to her knees on the dirt path, exhausted, and slept where she fell. Her sleep was dreamless and she embraced the oblivion of it, using it like a shield to protect her shattered heart.
When she awoke the sun was warm on her face and a shoe was gently nudging her ribs. The kicks were soft but persistent and accompanied by a soft calling of "miss" over and over. Suria groaned and batted the foot away. The speaker gasped as she sat up straight in the center of the hard packed dirt road, reduced to mud after last night's storm. She shielded her eyes to look up at the person and saw a young man about her age, made to look younger by the ill fitting nature of his loose clothes. A cart stood behind him loaded with fresh produce. He was headed west to market in Florence. He stooped to help her off the ground.
" Are you all right?" His lips were bloodless and his face pale with shock, " I thought you were dead!" He stood her on her bloody feet and blushed when she immediately fell against his chest. Looking over her shoulder he saw something shiny lying in the path. Squinting, he made out the shape. A gun. This girl had been carrying a weapon.
Suria felt the boy stiffen from her rather compromising position against his chest. "He's seen it" she thought her own body tensing to flee once more but instead he surprised her by pushing her away
" I won't ask, just tell me if you'll be okay on your own." There was a pleading in his words and a deep sadness in his eyes. Her own eyes widened as she realized what he was thinking. Suicide, it was a logical jump after all. Then sad little girl with a gun trying to end her own suffering. Perhaps he though her lover had been killed in the war that had concluded only four days ago, or even a father, she was young enough.
Gathering herself Suria kicked the weapon as far away as she could with her wounded foot. Looking into the boy's startled eyes she smiled slightly, " I'll be just fine she said, surprising herself at little as she repeated it. "Fine"