Relena knew he would visit her soon, and for the first time dreaded these quiet nights that once held so much anticipation and excitement. Tonight there was nothing to distract her from the oppressive emptiness that shrouded the whole house, emptiness that clawed at her from within. How had she not known? The signs were present, but she neglected to notice. Between her work and his missions, they never gave the possibility much thought. She did day-dream about such things once, when they were both just children themselves.

She replayed the scenario over and over in her mind, until a weary sleep took her into the dark.

She was on that damned shuttle again, about to break free from the gravitational pull of the earth. The seat belt was snug around her shoulder and hips, g-force pressed her flush against the backrest, the whole vessel rattled under the strain. Then she felt it, the stabbing pain that shot through her core, warm blood pooled under her. She was hollow and cold as the black void swallowed her whole.

Shivering, Relena blinked away moisture and tried to focus on the figure sitting on the bed in front of her. Now awake, she saw that he had turned on her bedside lamp, its soft light stung her eyes.

Heero stared at a spot on the headboard beside her, his brows were knitted in anguished confusion, his dirty uniform half unbuttoned. She drew up her knees and sat curled against the pillows, not bothering to hide her tears, the sheets sweaty and cold at her feet. He must have read the confidential medical files, the files that told the truth about her leave of absence. Perhaps he was angry at her, perhaps he hated her, he had every right, her carelessness was unforgivable. She sneaked another peek at him and he met her gaze, the pain there matched her own.

"It was a girl," She spoke barely above a whisper, meek as she's ever felt. "They let me hold her in my hands, she was so small."

Too small, and too fragile at 8 weeks to withstand the stress of space travel, according to the confidential records.

A baby girl...Heero's head swam with visions of soft honey-brown hair, and rosy cheeks that dimpled like Relena's. But he would never meet this little girl, never hold her, see her first step, watch her grow up.

"Where is she?" Heero croaked as if he hasn't spoken in days.

"She's..." Relena sucked on the saltiness behind her upper lip, "She rests beside my father."

He nodded mutely, after a moment of indecision, he reached up and touched her damp cheek. She let out a shuttering breath and clung to his hand, pressing his knuckles tightly against her skin. He gathered her in a lose embrace, and let her do the crying for the both of them.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She sobbed into his chest over and over again, even as he laid her down and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. He could offer her no absolution, but his mere presence seemed enough to bring her comfort. Bundled in the blanket, he held her protectively, her breathing gradually evened out until all but the slightest tremors were gone.

Relena burrowed her face in his neck, relief washed through her. For the first time in days, the ice in her began to thaw. "I'll visit them in the morning...come with me?"

"I'd like that." He kissed the top of her head, and closed his eyes.


The headstone of Relena's father stood solemnly by the old oak that guarded the final resting places of generations of Darlians. Heero followed her on the path to the tree, their crunching footfalls on the frosty gravel cut through the predawn hush. Next to her father's simple piece of black granite, a flat grave marker laid nestled in the grass.

Relena placed a familiar miniature teddy bear beside the grave, and stroked the bear's furry face tenderly. Heero knelt beside her, dew seeped through his jeans and chilled his knees. It's alright, the dead couldn't feel the cold. He traced the engravings on the small piece of marble, beneath which lay a piece of his heart.

He'd seen many deaths, yet the destruction of one not even fully formed tortured him so much more acutely. All his years of fighting did not prepare him for this. For a precious few days he was not alone in the world, his own flesh and blood, gone before he realized she existed. Still, he tasted a hope that filled him with yearning, and everything realigned.

He looked to Relena, eyes burning, "We should make children."

Startled and mystified, she turned away to hide her simmering anger behind the honey waterfall of her hair. "We can't just replace her, Heero."

"No, I don't mean that, never that." He took her face in his hands and wiped her indignant tears with his thumbs. "But she was innocent, and that has intrinsic value." He was bumbling now, words struggled to keep up with the out-pour. "A child is a good thing. It's the only good thing I'm sure of. And you..." He waited until Relena opened her eyes, "There needs to be more of you in this world, little versions of you, that'll be... good, very good." He felt a fool, and searched her face carefully for a response.

Relena burst out in a messy laugh-sob, and stared at the inexplicable man in front of her. Was this the same boy who told her life was cheap? He'd stoically become more hopeful over the years, and she knew that there needed to be more of him in this world, too.

The sun climbed a few degrees and covered everything with a golden glow, the ground shimmered with dew as new light warmed the air. Heero stood, pulling her up with him, her fingertips cold but held on firmly to his own.

Relena silently said her goodbyes, it was time to go. She leaned into Heero for warmth as they walked, "I wish we could have loved her."