Cracked Reflections 3/5+ Epilogue & Prologue
Baby
Rating: R
Series: Gundam Wing
Genre: AU/Angst
Pairings: 1x2x1 (background)
Spoilers: Yes, but only of you can recognize the changes.
(Can't say more or I'll ruin the story.)
Warnings: Death
By Moon Faery
Archived: (eventually at) Moon Faery's Garden
(http://www.geocities.com/moon_faerys_garden/); FFN
(http://www.fanfiction.net); Kiss of Death [my new site!]
(http://www.angelfire.com/gundam/kissofdeath/); anywhere
else that asks nicely.
Disclaimer: A statement created solely to save one's ass
from becoming lawn for the proverbial legal mower. I do not
own Gundam Wing, nor does anyone I know own it. However,
this story line and plot are MINE. (Holds fic close to
her.) Grrrr....
Author Notes: Trowa. Was. HARD. >.< I have NEVER in my LIFE BR>
done a Trowa-centric fic. (for various reasons, the big one
being that he reminds me a little too much of myself for
comfort. ^^;;) I've done 3x4x3, but those are almost always
Quatre-oriented, and I've used Trowa as a prop-character, but
never really used him in a meaningful way. So if this part
sucks, it's entirely my fault. ^^;;
*** September 19 AC 188 ***
Reilly curled up on the window seat, staring at the
lush gardens just beyond the glass. His auburn hair fell over
his vibrantly green eyes as he relaxed, making him reach up
irritably to brush the annoying locks away. Behind him, life
in the Sanc Kingdom castle continued as usual.
"Your Majesty, please reconsider," someone pleaded.
Reilly turned to look curiously as him mother followed the
King of Sanc out of a room. He shrugged and turned back the
window, eyes following their reflections in the glass. "I'm
needed here, you can't just send your top advisor away
because of a hunch!"
Peacecraft shook his head sadly, smoothing down his
white-blonde beard. He looked down at the much younger woman
paternally, icy blue eyes soft. "Eleina, I need your and your
husband alive," he explained gently, placing once large hand
on her shoulder. "Not dead from some assassin's knife."
"Heero Yuy is a pacifist!" Eleina argued forcefully,
glaring up at the king. "He wouldn't order anyone killed!"
Peacecraft shook his head. "I wish I could believe
you, I truly do. But he's ambitious, and ambitious men are
dangerous."
"But ambitious pacifists aren't!" she yelled, dark
hair falling into her green-gold eyes as she shook her head
forcefully. "You both have the same goals, why aren't you
working together?"
Reilly shook his head, snorting softly.
"You know, don't you, son?" the old king asked
suddenly, turning to pierce the child with a knowing stare.
He walked over to the window seat, sitting himself down
beside the boy. Eleina followed with a grimace of distaste.
"Yes sir," Reilly told the man he had always
considered his father. "You both want total pacifism, but you
realize that the people will have to want it too before it'll
work." He bit his lip, eyes narrowing in thought. "But that
other man... Heero Yuy, he wants to force it on everybody,
and that'll just make people want war more than ever."
The king smiled and ruffled the boy's cinnamon hair.
"And that's why you'll be the next king, after me," he said
proudly, grinning down at Reilly. "I couldn't have said it
better myself."
Eleina frowned slightly at her son, fighting the urge
to be proud that someone like his Majesty had chosen him to
marry the Princess Relena and be king. 'It will only make him
egotistical,' she reasoned, completely missing the slightly
sad look Reilly cast at her. "But he was only repeating what
you said!" she protested, crossing her arms and glaring at
the pair.
"Exactly," Peacecraft said, standing up. "If
Milliardo showed even some of the intelligence Reilly has, or
even wanted the position, he'd be the next in line to be
King. But Reilly here was able to repeat my words almost
exactly, and understand them." He smiled sadly, staring
Eleina down. "In a way that his mother doesn't."
"You're Majesty-" Eleina began hotly.
"No more." The Peacecraft said, holding up his hand
for silence. In spite of herself, Eleina obeyed. "I want you
and Reilly gone from the kingdom, to the palace in the Swiss
Alps, within two weeks." He turned on his heel and marched
away.
"What about Relena?" Eleina shouted after him.
"Doesn't she deserve a chance to grow up with the man she's
going to marry?"
Peacecraft turned slightly, smiling cheerlessly. "At
this sad point in history, my dear, I fear that she will not
be given the chance to grow up at all."
*** 3 weeks later ***
"Reilly, I wish you'd talk to me," Eleina scolded her
son mildly, holding him in her lap as they were driven
through the scenic mountains of Switzerland. "You've barely
said anything since we left."
Reilly turned to eyes his mother ruefully. "I want to
go home," he told her, blinking back tears.
"Oh, honey," she sighed, holding him tightly to.
"We'll go home just as soon as we can, I promise." She kissed
the top of his head, noticing that he almost didn't fit in
her lap anymore. "The-" she was suddenly thrown against the
side of the limo as a loud explosion ripped through the air.
Instinctively, she curled around her son, who whimpered and
clung to her.
The car flew through the air as another explosion hit
it. Metal screeched in protest as it hit the guard rail.
Reilly tumbled out of him mother's grip and rolled across the
seat, his head cracking loudly against the window, which
cracked, a faint smear of blood trickling down to the
armrest.
"Reilly!" Eleina screamed, feeling herself start to
loose her grip on the seat. In mid fall she managed to twist
her body around and avoid landing on her unconscious son.
Something snapped in her shoulder, sending slashes of pain
through her body. The car rocked again, tilting over the side
of the mountain. As gravity finally took sway over the
battered vehicle, Eleina curled around Reilly's body. She
pulled him close, shutting her eyes and kissing his bloody
forehead.
'God, if you're up there, save my baby' she prayed as
the car finished going over the cliff and began to tumble and
roll. Something smashed through the windshield, sending glass
shards everywhere. Something burned across her face and
throat, and then...
*** AC 188 (Exact day unknown) ***
"He's coming around!"
"Poor kid, bein' nearly blown ta ity-bits like tha'."
"Sshh, Soren, he's awake."
Sleepy green eyes opened warily, wincing as the light
tried to pierce his skull. The small boy, slender boy tried
to sit up, but was pushed back down into soft sheets.
"Good mornin', bairn," a smiling woman with soft
brown eyes told him. reaching down to brush his bangs out of
his eyes, and out from under the bandage on his head. "And
how would ye be doin' this fine mornin'?"
The child groaned, shutting his eyes tightly. "I feel
horrible," he managed to whisper through a painfully dry
throat.
Someone chuckled deeply. "You should kid. Not to many
people survive a wreck like that and live to tell about it."
A huge man with a bristling orange-red beard and a pair of
pigtails entered his line of sight. It was hard to see his
lips behind the beard, but the invalid child was sure that he
was smiling.
"I- I did?" he asked, turning his head to look at the
man more squarely. It was a bad idea, since it sent the room
spinning around him. The child clenched his eyes shut and
groaned, trying not to throw up.
Someone began to wipe his face down with a cool, damp
cloth. "No sudden moves, wee one," the woman told him gently,
her soft Scottish burr soothing the spin down to a mild
twisting. "Tis a grand knock on the head ye got in that
tumble."
"Wh- what happened?" he asked, looking up at the two
people.
The big man looked slightly worried. "We were hoping
you could tell us that," he answered. "And maybe your name
while we were at it."
The boy frowned, resisting the urge to shake his
head. "I don't know..." he said slowly. "I don't remember."
*** AC 194 ***
"Bairn, ye're too young ta be after a leavin' the
nest," Kara told him, following the boy out the door, brown
eyes glimmering with tears.
The tall, slender boy called Bairn shook his head and
turned to look at her from beneath his auburn hair. "Kara,
I..." He gave the woman a rib-cracking hug. "You- This all...
It's been great, but I have things to do."
Kara clung to him, tears wetting the front of his
shirt. "Ye'll leave an ol' widdow alone ta rot," she accused
him. "And all jus' so ye c'n follow a dream ye ain't had in
years!"
"You know that isn't it," he told her softly,
smoothing down her curly brown hair, which was liberally
streaked with silver. "People need me, you saw the telecasts
too. They're ruining lives, out there in the real world. I
can't just sit by and watch."
"I know tha', child, but I don't have'ta like 'er,"
she sobbed, looking up at the son she had never had. "Will ye
at least tell yer Da what ye're about doin'?"
He nodded hesitantly. "Yes, I will."
She kissed him on the cheek. "Then I'll leave the two
of ye alone," she whispered, letting go of his shirt and
dashing back into the house.
Bairn turned hesitant green eyes to the small mound
of upturned earth across the yard. He hadn't visited it since
they had laid Soren to rest. The man had been a father to
him, and the thought of never seeing his large, weathered
face framed by two braids, or helping him chop wood, or
turning sideways to slip past his wide frame in a narrow
space... It left an empty spot inside of him, like not even
the loss of his memories had caused. When he saw the telecast
of what was happening on the outside, beyond the woods and
mountains, he thought he'd found something to fill that place
where Soren had resided. But now, after watching Kara's face
crumple, he wasn't so sure.
With a heavy heart, he forced himself to walk up to
the grave, eyes sliding over the rough headstone without
really reading the words crudely chiseled into its surface.
"Hello, Da," he began, kneeling down to play with the grass.
"You always said that I should do what my dreams tells me...
So I am. I'm leaving. An entire kingdom was just slaughtered,
and I wasn't there to help." He took a breath, smiling
slightly. "Ma thought I should tell you where I'm going,
though I don't know why." Overhead, a bird twittered. "Watch
her for me, you're the only thing she's got left now."
Bairn stood and shouldered his pack. "I love you, Da.
Maybe one day I'll come back here and tell you about what I
did." He walked off down the dirt road.
*** AC 198 ***
Bairn knocked on the heavy wooden door, not even
waiting for an answer before he walked into the room. Inside
was nearly pitch black, but he made no attempt to turn on a
light.
"I'm surprised you knew how to find me," a deep,
cultured voice told him from the shadows. Boots clicked on
the stone flooring as someone stepped forward, his outline
barely visible in the darkness. "Not everyone has the skill
to even attempt such a feat."
"You're the one who had Heero Yuy killed."
The man chuckled warmly. "And how do you come to that
conclusion?"
"Your organization is the only one that hasn't
claimed credit for it," Bairn answered dryly. He leaned back
against the wall and crossed his arms, emerald eyes sliding
closed. "That's how I came to that conclusion."
There was a pause, and then a slow clapping sound
filled the room, bouncing off the walls. "Impressive, young
sir. How may I help you?"
Bairn smiled slightly. "You trained Killer. I want
you to train me."
Shocked silence filled the room. "You wish to be an
assassin?" the man asked finally, voice sounding strained.
"You're too old to ever reach Killer's skill level, and you
know how his story ended."
He nodded, even though the man in the darkness
couldn't see the movement. "I know."
"Why?"
The question was so unexpected that Bairn's eyes flew
open and he looked up, staring straight into the lightless
room. "To do something."
"Normally, I would say no, but you..." For the first
time since he'd entered the room, Bairn heard emotion in the
man's voice. "You remind me of someone. Third door down the
hall, marked with red."
Bairn nodded and turned to leave. He paused, hand
hovering over the door knob. "What should I call you, sir?"
"I no longer have a name, but I used to be called
Trieze."
He smiled and began to open the door. "Thank you,
Trieze. You may call me Wanderer."
*** August 12 AC 200 ***
Bairn, or Wanderer as he was now called, stood as the
judge called his name. "Reilly Fannon, alias Bairn Than,
alias Wanderer, you pled guilty to the premeditated murder of
one Quatre Raberba Winner." The judge eyed Wanderer of over
the rims of his glasses sternly. "Son, do you have anything
to say for yourself?"
The guilty man bowed his head in thought, his hair
casting a shadow over his face. For a second his lips
twitched, and he looked up. "I wish he hadn't deserved to
die," he stated calmly, green eyes placid and a small smile
playing on his lips. He seemed to radiate calm, the soul-deep
satisfaction of a person who is prepared and waiting for a
fate they already know. "And I wish I had the chance to
change the world again."
The judge leaned forward, brows furrowing. "Son, you
know what your sentence is going to be, don't you?" At
Wanderer's nod, he continued. "So why didn't you plea
bargain?"
"Because I value some things more than my life," the
auburn-haired boy replied softly.
The silence in the courtroom was deafening, something
almost unnatural for a room filled with reporters and
camera-seekers.
The judge smiled slightly, looking down at the papers
in his hand. "If you were my own boy, I'd be proud of you,"
he murmured so quietly that even the court reporter didn't
hear it. Wander smiled and bowed his head. "Reilly Fannon,
because of the crimes you have freely admitted to commiting,
I am forced to sentence you to execution by lethal injection,
effective immediately."
The bailiffs walked up to the defendent's stand,
faces flatly expressionless.
"Wait!" someone called from the back of the
courtroom. "Your Honor, may I speak with Mr. Fannon before he
goes?"
The judge looked startled, as did everyone else in
the room. "Miss Winner, as the sister of the victim, I see no
reason not to let you speak with him."
Iria smiled sadly and bowed her head. "Thank you,
your Honor."
Everyone scattered around Wanderer as the sister of
his murder victim moved towards him. The bailiffs looked at
the judge uncertainly, stepping back when he nodded at them.
The blonde Winner daughter, the only surviving heir
of the Winner financial empire, took a single step forward
and wrapped her arms around the man who killed her brother in
cold blood. Tears poured down her cheeks. Wanderer did his
best to hug back, but was restrained by his handcuffs.
"Thank you," she whispered brokenly into his
shoulder. "Thank you."
The tall, green-eyed killer bent his head down to
whisper in her ear. "You're welcome." His face went blank as
he stepped back, the only thing marring it with emotion was
the small half smile. That smile stayed on his lips, even as
he was led out of the courtroom.
***
