A/N: Just occurred to me one day, so I spat it out in a rush. Uh, I'll just call it "experimental". Yea. That.
C.C.'s detached perspective was just happenstance.
Eleven was a magic number. Unlucky. A number of fate.
C.C. knew this, had known it for a long, long time. She was born in the eleventh century, in the eleventh month, on the eleventh day. The eleventh year of her pathetic mortal life was the one she had met a certain nun. Eleven years after that, she died for the very first time. She met the eleventh prince of Britannia with a bit of mild interest. He was, after all, the precious son of Marianne. Then, when the boy was exiled, she packed what little she had, and left Pendragon.
She had never been terribly fond of Charles to begin with.
It was no surprise to her when she finally found him eleven weeks later, to see that he had befriended another boy. Just after that boy had turned eleven years old, the place was renamed Area 11. The eleventh prince, and an Eleven boy. Both with tragic lives.
She decided then, that he would be her eleventh attempt to fulfill her wish to die. Because eleven was a number she knew the fates could not ignore.
Eleven hours later, she was brutally shot eleven times, captured, and forced into a white jumpsuit with precisely eleven black leather straps.
It would come again as no surprise that when she became free from her imprisonment, one and one, two elevens were there again. Disaster was bound to happen, and that it did. In the eleventh hour of the eleventh prince, she made her eleventh contract. Fate turned on its axis, and C.C. knew that no matter what, everything happened with reason and purpose.
Her wish, her solitary thought, would have to come true this time.
When she came to, there were eleven dead bodies around her. It served as a kind of confirmation, so all she could do was smile at the morbid scene, smearing congealed blood across her forehead.
"He is certainly his mother's son." She canted her head to the side, as if listening. Her smile only widened.
Seeing that Eleven again honestly did surprise her, and few things were able to do that. She should have known better, but when she saw the relieved and happy expression on Lelouch's face, the reasoning behind it in the grand scheme of things flashed a little more clearly. The gods really were quite cruel.
After that, his preoccupation with Suzaku was expected. The Code on her forehead burned at the knowledge. It was confusing at best, and for someone used to all the ins and outs of the world, it bothered her. For a moment, she tried to enlighten Lelouch about the shroud of discord that surely must surround Suzaku, but he brushed her off before she had a chance. There was no doubt in her mind that Suzaku was more than he appeared.
She was proven correct later, but no matter. Too late was too late.
Fate was never nice or easy. She made Lelouch spend eleven dollars on a double-cheese pizza in muted annoyance.
Mao was a sad reminder to her of how terrible life could be, and how fragile the human heart and mind were.
Everything had just gone so wrong. She imagined if she were to ever have had a child, he would be it. Her purposeful ignorance of his state of mind, and her weakness to address it, was what led to that tragedy. C.C. made a horrible mother.
Mao. Another attempt at happiness gone wrong. He could never fulfill her wish, but at least she could set him free from his miserable existence. He could hardly stand his one mortal life, much less the heavy burden of immortality. Hers was a misery not suited to him, anyway. She injected him with the 11 mm bullet she had reserved for herself, because no longer would he leave her free to pursue her wish. A swift death was all she could give him, anymore.
Coming back to Lelouch was only a small comfort. She pondered her own sanity. She pondered Lelouch's.
Encountering Suzaku at the Special Administration Zone made her think "what if" for the first time in a very, very long time. What if she had forged a contract with him instead? Would she still be there, in that knightmare? Would her wish have already come to pass? Would Lelouch still have become Zero? Would Suzaku and Lelouch still be fighting each other? Would the Ragnarök Connection already have occurred?
So many things converged, and her mind jumbled into a confusing mess. That touch, that contact tore open a floodgate, and that unstable connection seared across them both.
Lelouch would learn the true horror of Geass that day.
She had a feeling Suzaku learned something similar on that day, too.
After all, her fate was not hers alone. She was selfish, but the fates would not discriminate. Her wish. Her single wish. She knew it would drag her contractor down into the abyss of eternal misery, but her link to Suzaku was unexpected. He had a connection to fate, just as Lelouch did. Eleven. One and one together made eleven. What did that mean?
Again, she wondered, what if… And what that really meant for her one wish. The one she was beginning to question.
Perhaps that is why the next time to fight came, something went terribly wrong.
Nunnally disappeared, Lelouch lost his calm, V.V. showed himself, her most painful memories were forcibly revealed, and she died again. She kept dying for him, over and over again.
When she awoke, floating upon gentle waves, the key to fulfilling her wish was gone.
C.C. had nothing to say when Kallen found her there, staring down with hardened blue eyes.
She managed to find him again eleven months later, embittered and hostile once his memory was unlocked. She died for him again. Lelouch still impressed her however, using that sharp wit and strategic genius of his to resume where he left off with hardly any effort. All that despite his beloved sister still in parts unknown, and the acidic betrayal of the one he didn't want to fight.
What was he, but a scion of misfortune? They were kindred spirits, so she was able to smile once more.
The least she could do was comfort him.
V.V. had been busy in her absence. He still had the mentality of a child, and she had to wonder how far down he would fall had he been given the chance to live as long a life as she. The Geass Directorate was far more crowded with people, with far too many children than she had left it with.
She supposed she could mildly understand V.V.'s loneliness. V.V. probably didn't understand it himself.
Even so, he had committed many wrongs, and doomed so many. Ragnarök might bring it all back, but nothing could erase the suffering. C.C. watched passively as V.V. slumped forward, ripped of his Code, frail and vulnerable. For a moment, she pitied him.
Only for a moment.
She entered the gate after Lelouch with a confused heart, a taste of bitter sadness on her tongue, and hopelessness. It all came down to that, because Lelouch was drowning in his fury, blind to all but his ambition now. Had she failed again, even on this eleventh attempt? Was it because her heart was faltering? That the single wish of hers was so doubtful in her mind now? Was it because of Lelouch? Because of Suzaku? Both?
In the end, Lelouch caught her as she fell. She didn't know it then, but he gave her a shard of hope when she had none left. It was fate, it was a miracle, and with too much to bear and too much to comprehend, she curled in on herself, and tried to hide. The idea of Ragnarök frightened her for the very first time, and she wasn't entirely sure why.
It was a brief reprieve, even as she stared blankly down the endless hall of her memories. So many were dark, unpleasant, best left forgotten, but she couldn't. C.C. wandered aimlessly up and down the corridors, wondering why she still compartmentalized the things that defined her existence. Did it make things easier to recall? Perhaps it was how she coped with eternal life. Each time she died, a momentary blankness would consume her, so perhaps that void was where she stood right now.
Not much was bright in her life. The false glimmer from her mortal life, tainted by a Geass that made sure no one treated her honestly. The backlash upon receiving the Code erased all that. Still, she passed on by, an image of her burning a flicker in the corner of her eye.
Why go back? She could stay there.
Even so, she missed the taste of pizza. So inane, but genuine. And something else. Something she was forgetting. Something, something…
That was when Marianne appeared and smiled at her.
She hadn't been positive, but as she watched both Charles and Marianne fade into oblivion, she knew that everything had changed inside of her. C.C. looked on passively as Lelouch commanded the gods, and had to let out a half-snort of a silent chuckle. He was such a wrench in her plans. Her carefully constructed barriers were all shattered to pieces, and now she was hardly sure what she wanted.
Fate was a bitch.
When Lelouch and Suzaku turned their anger on each other, she could only sigh again. Both of them. Such children.
C.C. tipped forward, rising to her feet in one fluid motion. Her hips swayed, and she took Lelouch's hand in hers, much to his unhappy surprise. Instead of paying him any attention, she lifted her other hand out towards Suzaku. "Lelouch met his goal to defeat Charles. Have you met yours?" She patiently waited, hand extended.
He merely eyed it warily, sword lowering a fraction, eyes still flickering back and forth between it and her lazy expression. Keenly, she could tell Lelouch was also curious for his response, not making any motion to remove his hand from hers. It took a long, tense moment, but Suzaku finally relented, and lowered his sword fully. He stepped forward, but did not place his hand on hers.
"Britannia is still corrupt, despite the fact that Emperor Charles is gone." Stern green swept briefly to Lelouch at her side, switching back to her in the same breath. "I haven't been able to change anything."
She wanted to sigh, truly. "Your hand, Suzaku." He pinched his lips together. "I need your hand, so we can leave."
A muscle in his jaw clenched, but he extended his hand for her to take nonetheless. And then it happened. That connection. That fleeting moment she hadn't felt since the first time she saw the two as young boys. A myriad of images and memories, feelings, and above all, the naked truth Everything flooded over and around her, and as they ricocheted haphazardly in her heart, she realized the extent of her wish.
Everything was clear then. She hadn't known it, but she had needed them both. Just as they needed each other.
It appeared both Lelouch and Suzaku seemed to realize something too, because when they emerged on the other side of the gate, it was curiously quiet for a long, long time. If C.C. had to guess, she would say it took eleven hours before either said a word to each other.
She hated to impose between their hate. Between their love. Over the years, she had seen every type of relationship under the sun, and these two brought out the best and worst of each other, unable to part ways. Inextricably linked. But she was a selfish woman, so she intended to hold Lelouch to his promise, regardless.
Eleven weeks later, she found herself in a church, knelt in prayer. Her tears were hot. She should have known things would end up this way from the beginning.
Eleven. A magical number. A hateful number. A number of fate.
Despite that, her heart was moved, and she saw the shimmering worth of life for the first time since she had been mortal. It was poignant. Beautiful. And sad.
One and one together makes not two, but eleven. But it requires two, nonetheless.
A knight's grave, an emperor's tomb.
And when you take one and one away, all you are left with is - Zero.
Regardless, she was happy. Truly, truly happy.