AN: WOW! So, this is way overdue, but I've been thrown headlong into something I'm calling "Academic P90X". My final in my Honours Stats class is now worth 100% of my final mark due to a TA's error, so I won't really be online much in the next week and a half. I worte this in segments of about 500 words at a time when I had a little bit of breaktime here and there, and I tried to seam it together as well as possible. The next few chapters will take care of some much needed areas like Setsuna (finally!) among other things.

Stormy: I agree! I was thinking about the twin-weirdness a few days ago...I can't imagine what that would be like to deal with. It was funny that you suggested going into Lyle's feelings about Neil. I'd considered doing it but didn't quite know how to go about it, and then after you suggested it it came a lot more naturally. I hope that it ties in well in the chapters to come! Anne: I used to write 1500 word chapters, and then I started holding onto them until I could write more and more. I'm glad that they don't turn out as lengthy and wordy as they feel when writing...that they're decent, etc. I've had quite a few chapters that would be better left at 1500 words though, and I get a little irritated when I write more to keep the length generally the same. I'm jealous of writers who can get their feelings across in 2k words or less. I imagine sword-fighting would definitely be a way to get rid of steam...I'm jealous! Paper: Hahaha yeah, loony is an understatement. I'm glad you picked up on Lyle's idea vs reality...that'll come into play for sure later on, as well as his honesty. Poor Hallelujah indeed. I was upset that he didn't get more screentime in S2, so here he is full-force.

As for the last chapter, I agree that Lyle was quite emo. I thought so when I was writing, but I feel like those are the kinds of things that he would never say out-loud, and if he did, he'd rationalize them away or bury them in sarcasm. Rev doesn't really leave much room for him to do that, and as such we're left with his raw emo-ness. I want to stress that I think that he cares about Neil a lot more than he lets on, though. I don't see him being as ignorant/"whatever" as most people write him.

Thanks again to those who favourited and reviewed, and please let me know what you think!

Waiting Game

"He that can have patience can have what he will."

Benjamin Franklin

Deiter tried to swallow the knot in his throat as he sat on the lower cockpit door of his Enact. It was huge and for the last fifteen minutes he thought he was going to choke on it. Karen was on her way to the base…that was bad.

Under normal circumstances he'd be elated that his mischief-creating sister was on her way, but he had a handful of well-worn reasons for the anxious knot in his chest. First, there was the fact that she was there to find out who an anonymous mole was…an anonymous mole that happened to be the stepfather that she'd beat so bad the other mechanics called him 'franken-fuhrer'. Second, there was the fact that he knew who this anonymous mole was. Third was definitely the most terrifying; she could hear him think. A chill ran up his spine. He had no idea how to hide this nugget of information from his sister. He'd never hidden anything from her, ever. Even before she could hear thoughts, he hadn't needed to hide things from her…in fact, he'd normally run to her when he was in trouble and begged her to tell him how to get out of it. She was the master, after-all. Of course, she'd had a tonne of practice getting out of trouble; she rarely thought anything through beforehand and threw herself headlong into the most crazy, self-destructive path she could come up with. School, work, relationships, anything. He wished he could have her advice right now.

He took a swig from his canteen and watched the small crowd that had already started to gather in the hangar. Bruns had hated her, much to Deiter's dismay. Bruns wasn't at the branch any longer, though. The second he'd found out that Klaus had contacted Celestial Being he'd transferred out to the South African location and out of the undoubted warpath of his step-daughter. Deiter kicked his leg idly, running his thumb absentmindedly over his knuckles. They were bruised, one of them had the imprint of his stepfather's teeth. He may not have hated the man like his sister did, but when the enraged older man confronted him he'd been quick to lose his temper. Katharon wasn't an organization that could take betrayal at the moment.

He sighed. He'd come to love Katharon. The people were real, their motives were pure, and their drive was insatiable. He'd never seen anything like the work ethic that the members of Katharon possessed. They were far outmatched in equipment, funding, even basic necessities like food and tools, and yet they'd become a major problem for the Alliance Forces as well as the A-Laws. Everyone was dedicated, and everyone worked together to turn the skeleton organization into something with a living, beating heart. Katharon was something he'd never regret joining, whether they won or not. His eyes followed their one female mechanic as she tied her hair back and pulled her work gloves back on to wrestle with an ankle module of a Tieren. He'd had his eye on her for weeks, watching her weld this-or-that and disappear into the various joints of mobile suits to rewire them. She, like Katharon, was amazing. She'd patched up his Enact more than once, and she'd spent day after day teaching him how to do the same.

She looked up as the sound of resonating thrusters filled the hangar, and he looked up as well. This was it, his sister was here. He couldn't deny the surge of excitement that came with seeing a Gundam up-close again, but it was soured by the realization that he was about to have a massive sibling blow-up. Still, he watched the hangar entrance in eager anticipation. He knew that it was going to be Lyle's Gundam, the sniper model, but that didn't make him appreciate it any less as it appeared. Legs, waist, torso, shoulders, head. It was an amazing suit, and if anyone could use it properly, it was Lyle, or Gene-One, as he was referred to by most of the members who hadn't taken piloting lessons from him. Deiter was definitely jealous, and he shook his head as he slipped his foot into the descent cable and headed for the hangar floor.

"Deiter!" Mirial, the mechanic he'd been watching dashed over. "Isn't it amazing!" There were smudges of oil and dirt on her face, and he nodded.

"It is, but what really amazes me is how you've managed to get so much dirt on yourself." He said, thumbing away a streak of oil from under her eye. She blushed, and he couldn't say he was particularly upset by the response. In reality, he was jumping in happiness in his head.

"Come on! Let's look at it up close!" she said, taking his hand and dragging him to the now much larger gathered crowd. She turned back curiously, eyes wide. "How close do you think they'll let me get? I mean, it's Celestial Being after-all…they probably don't want us getting that close, right?" she said, her words coming out in a jumbled stream accented in her Belgic-French accent. She was nervous and excited, and cuter than he'd ever remembered her being.

"Well, it's my sister and Ly…I mean, Gene-One in there, so they'll probably be alright with you being close, I guess." He said, already picturing the head-lock from Lyle that the request would result in.

She looked up at him with wide, happy eyes. "Really? Will you ask for me, Deuxie?" she asked, using the nickname that she'd given him a few weeks ago. He didn't particularly like it, but she could have called him 'asshole' and he wouldn't have complained. Deuxie came from Deux, or two, in French. It was a play on his codename of Gene Two. It reminded him that he sat in second place to the man who sat in the deep green mobile-suit in front of him. Did Lyle sit in second-place to anyone? He doubted it. The man was a piloting god in Katharon…so much so that Celestial Being had come to him to pilot. That was proof enough of his skill, Deiter reasoned.

"Yes, I'll ask them." He said, ruffling her hair. Her ponytail hadn't done much to tie back her jet-black locks, and they were already falling out around her face. "But you'll have to make sure to get my Enact running in perfect order, alright?" he didn't give a damn about the Enact, to be honest.

"Deal!" she said, turning to watch the Gundam come to a halt. He watched with her. It was an amazing machine. The Enact had been a well-received machine in the AEU, but the Gundam before them was definitely one-of-a-kind. The cockpit slid open and his sister emerged, followed by the towering Irishman that the suit belonged to. 'Towering' was a funny word, of course. Deiter was an inch taller than the brunette Celestial Being pilot, but that didn't stop him from overshadowing the smaller form of his sister. "That's your sister?" Mirial asked, looking up at him. "Is she a pilot too?"

He shook his head. "That's my sister, but no, she doesn't pilot. I'm sure she could…the AEU made sure to train its forecasters in mobile suit skills just in-case, but she wouldn't be a Gundam pilot." He said, looking back at the duo on the cockpit door. He raised a skeptical eyebrow as he saw them share the dismount cable of the massive machine. Lyle's arm was wrapped securely around Karen's waist, pulling her much closer than was necessary, and her arms were securely around his neck. He wasn't sure, but if he wasn't mistaken they were stuck in a deadlock of eye contact. That was definitely not necessary for a mobile suit dismount. He huffed. His sister had spent many years tormenting their mother with her love of casual relationships; men who had no name and whom she had no reason to bring home. 'There's no time for love in my line of work, Mom.' she'd said. He'd be sorely upset with her if Lyle Dylandy had become one of those. He didn't need his mentor in some sordid relationship with his sister. That would be a new type of torture all its own…a torture added to the beating that he was going to receive when his sister read his thoughts.

"Are you alright?" Mirial asked, watching him with beautiful deep-brown eyes.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." he replied. Really though, he was reeling with the suddenly-remembered worry that his sister could read his mind.

"Her name is Reverie, right?" Mirial asked, tilting her head. "I heard about her from one of the other Mechanics."

He shook his. "That's her codename, but her real name is Karen." He replied. He felt a little guilty for giving up her real name, but he was going to call her by it, so why not? He looked back over at the Celesital Being pair. They'd reached the ground, and Klaus had stepped forward to greet Lyle with a hug and a firm handshake. Though Deiter was nervous he took Mirial's hand and pushed through the crowd, excited to see his sister. "Karen!"

She turned and her face lit up. "Didi!" she exclaimed, running into him with a crushing hug. He'd seen her months before, but he still couldn't register the fact that she was now the shorter sibling, her face buried in his chest. She beamed up at him. "I'm glad you're here, I need someone to pick on!" she said, ruffling his hair and sticking her tongue out. Sometimes she made a terrible twenty-five year-old.

"I can't say I'm too happy about the idea…" he teased, the nerves in his stomach taking over again. She pulled away as Lyle's hand landed on her shoulder and he offered her the beat-up backpack that had been slung over his.

"Don't forget this, I'd hate to have to make a return trip." The Katharon-Meister said.

Deiter watched his smirk with skeptical eyes. "Would you now?" he stared him down with what he hoped was the menacing glare of a protective brother. The Irishman didn't seem fazed.

"Fine. That isn't completely honest, but Tieri-….my friend back on the ship wouldn't be too pleased." The comment earned him a snorted laugh from Karen, and Deiter couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Karen tugged on his shirt.

"Didi, behave." she said before turning to face his former mentor. "Are you leaving right away?"

Lyle nodded. "It looks that way." They stared at each other for a silent moment, and Deiter concluded that his sister was listening intently to some unspoken thought. His suspicion was confirmed when she nodded and slung an arm around his shoulders, grinning at the Meister.

"Don't worry, I've never wanted to kill him before, I don't think I'll start now." She said, looking at Deiter and ruffling his hair.

"Hey, hey! I hate when you do that!" he quipped.

"I know, I know. You'll be fine." She stuck her tongue out at him again, and the action earned her a swift eye-roll.

"Well, I should be heading back." Lyle said, running a hand through his hair. "You'll be alright?" he asked, looking at Karen again. If Deiter wasn't so skeptical, he'd have almost said the pilot was worried.

Karen nodded. "Even if something happens, I can contact the ship through Haro. I'll be fine. Looks like I have to get going too." she motioned over her shoulder to Klaus and some of the senior members of Katharon's administration.

He nodded and they shared another moment of silence that resulted in a snort from Karen. Deiter silently wished that he could hear the unspoken conversation.

"What's 'Haro'?" Mirial's singsong voice questioned, reminding him of her request.

"Oh!" Deiter said, catching his mentor's attention. "Lyle, this is Mirial. She's one of Katharon's newer mechanics…is there any way she can see the Gundam up close?" he knew what the answer would most likely be, but it wouldn't stop him from trying.

"Well…I'm not sure that's-!"

Deiter cut him off, slinging an arm over his shoulders and turning away from the two women who watched them curiously. "Listen, I'm calling in a protégé favor. You let her see the Gundam and I might be able to ignore the fact that you're after my sister." He sent the man an incredulous smirk.

Lyle laughed. "Is that so?"

Deiter nodded. "Come on, if her little bro will vouch for you, you're pretty well in the clear I'd say. Just my humble opinion, though…"

"Got a thing for the little mechanic do ya?" Lyle grinned.

"What, us young folks can't chase each other around? So, deal or no deal?" he asked, silently crossing his fingers in his head.

Lyle sighed, then pulled him into an almost brotherly headlock. "Yeah, fine you little brat." he said ruffling his hair and letting him go. "No pictures, no notes, and I'll explain the mobile suit."

"Deal! Come on Mirial!" He may have disliked the pilot's interest in his sister, but he wasn't about to pass up the chance to watch Mirial examine the Gundam. He turned back to see if Karen would be coming with them, but Shirin and Klaus were approaching, and he guessed that she'd be receiving her briefing. He couldn't say that he was upset to avoid the impending fight that they were going to have over his knowledge of the mole, and he'd gladly welcome the short distraction before it. They had a whole week to snap at each other, right now he was content to be teased by the older man and clung to excitedly by the young mechanic.

"What can you tell me, Mr. Muller?"

Bruns Muller sat across from the Officer Commanding of the European branch of the A-Laws. He was a short middle-aged man, but the way he held himself said that he had unshakable confidence and a considerable amount of power. Bruns wasn't sure how to regard him, and as such he studied the surface of the man's desk. "I have some very interesting news about Katharon's temporary European base." He said, looking up and meeting the man's gaze.

"Yes, we've established that. What 'interesting news' is it?"

Bruns knew that the A-Laws had been looking for the new branch for weeks. Not only was it close to home for the A-Laws European branch, but it was a safe-house for numerous political figures and valuable prison escapees. "Well, in addition to the political fugitives that the base is harbouring, it's also the current residence of Katharon's new official leader, your missing mobile suit engineer, and currently the telepath from Celestial Being." He said, trying not to smirk. The second he'd found out that Celestial Being was sending Karen to find 'the mole', he'd called his A-Laws handler and bartered his information for instatement in the organization.

The man didn't reply right away, but stared at Bruns with impassivity. "What political fugitives are you referring to?" The man wasn't giving any hint of surprise.

"The former vice-president of the defence council, the chancellor of foreign affairs that defected last month, and of course a slew of less-prominent ones, such as Princess Marina of Azadistan." Bruns recited. The A-Laws hadn't made any attempt to hide how prominent the men were, they'd issued a bounty on each of them as soon as they'd defected. The princess and his stepdaughter…he assumed they'd sweeten the deal.

"And the telepath…how long will she be at the location?" The commander jotted down the list of individuals, and Bruns noted that he was writing on paper. Paper meant that it was unofficial, and unofficial meant a lot of death that the A-Laws couldn't admit to administering. He felt a twinge of guilt over the massacre that could arise from his betrayal, but he pushed it down. He'd become a master of ignoring his conscious, part of him wondered if he still had one at times.

"She's arriving today, I don't know when she leaves."

"When can you find out?" The commander's response was quick. It was clear that the meeting was one of courtesy. If Bruns hadn't been willfully supplying the information it was likely that he'd be in a dark hole somewhere having it beaten out of him.

"I don't know. I'm not in contact with that branch of the organization anymore."

The commander sighed. "Get back in contact with them."

Bruns raised a scarred eyebrow. "Why should I do that?" he knew that he was in a strong position to bargain and he wasn't about to give in so easily.

"Mr. Muller, I'm not a man of weak interpretations. The information that you're giving us will be your salvation." The man stared across the expansive desk. "If you have no information for us, I have no reason to keep you as an informant."

"Gottverdammt!" Bruns slammed his fist against the desk. "How much information do you people want? I've given you locations, security information, names, times-!"

"You haven't given us times, Mr. Muller. Time is a crucial factor in bringing in these fugitives. Time is possibly the most important factor of all! What if we attack and the fugitives we're after aren't there anymore? What if we-!"

"Does it matter? You're using automatons anyways!" Bruns shouted, cutting the man off. He didn't like being snapped at by anyone.

"You idiot! We aren't using automatons! Do you think we'd risk setting those things on those people? We need them alive. I have to send a live attack team into the location to make sure we get what we're after! Can you imagine what would happen if we got the timing wrong and, say, attacked when Celestial Being was picking up their telepath? We'd be obliterated!"

"Aren't your men well-trained enough to deal with some Celestial Being brats?" Bruns snapped, angered at the man's logic.

The commander laughed, then set his face in his hands. He looked up after a moment, the expression on his face mocking the Katharon-traitor again. "Our entire mobile suit force has been having trouble with them. You think a lone special-attack team would be able to take them down? Good luck. What if one of their pilots managed to make it to their Gundam? What if they arrived with all four of the machines? We'd be outgunned, outmatched, and the fugitives would likely be killed in the resulting fallout. It'll be enough trouble to try and work around their telepath, let alone the rest of that ship's team."

"You're going to try to capture her?" Bruns asked, not thrilled by the idea. He wasn't thrilled by any of it really. He was hoping the entire base would be part of a mopping-up operation, mowed down by automated killing machines and swept under the rug.

"Of course we are. We're going to capture all of them, Mr. Muller." He sat back in his seat. "Now go get me useful information on timings, then we can talk about your new position in the A-Laws."

Marie watched as Alle- no, Hallelujah paced back and forth in the padded cell that he'd been abolished to.

He paced like a caged animal, eyes fixated on the two-way glass of the tiny, circular observation window. His golden eye glared with all the accusing force of a hurricane, his quantum brainwaves crashing against her consciousness with the same force. She knew he couldn't see her, but it didn't give her any measure of comfort.

She watched his pacing again. He was one-hundred percent different, not at all her calm, caring Allelujah. He walked with assertive, angry steps. His limbs hung comfortably, but with enough tension to warn that he was ready to take on anyone foolish enough to step in the enclosed space. No matter how many times he circled the room his eyes, rather, his eye didn't leave the door. Since he'd resurfaced Hallelujah had made sure to pull his bangs back over Allelujah's familiar silver eye, almost as a reminder that the gentle-natured Meister was buried under the surface and out of reach. He didn't have to go to the extra length to remind them, though. It was blatantly obvious that he was different. Allelujah was trustworthy and rational, not this bloodthirsty thing that was pacing and waiting for a chance to strike again. Allelujah never would have landed himself in solitary for giving the ship's medic a cursive 'H' scar.

How long could he be stuck like this? If Hallelujah had been left silent for the better part of five years, how long could Allelujah be stuck unheard? The thought made her stomach turn uncomfortably. Allelujah wasn't a fighter in the same way Hallelujah was. He wouldn't take pleasure in pushing Hallelujah below the surface and fighting him for dominance. Marie had a suspicion that Hallelujah wouldn't sit by and let himself be locked away again, even if he was bored at the moment. She shook her head and her stomach churned again, just as it had been doing all morning.

She placed her hand on the cool glass, stretching on her tiptoes to look through it. He'd stopped pacing and was looking at the ceiling. His back was to her and he ran a hand through his dark hair languidly, shaking his head. His shoulders shook and she realized that he must be laughing. What could possibly be funny about the situation? Was he speaking with Allelujah? The thought made her heart flutter. Hallelujah could hear him, they knew that much. She knew better than anyone that Allelujah was floating barely under the surface. His quantum brainwaves mixed with Hallelujahs, complementing them, the undercurrent to the other's storm. She knew her Allelujah was still there. She could see it in the way that his shoulders stopped shaking and in how he relaxed and his body lost its defensiveness, just for a second. When he turned and looked at her she could have almost sworn that he wore the calm, sweet expression of her Allelujah. It was even present as he rushed the glass and snarled silently.

She didn't move a muscle. She met Hallelujah's glare through the glass. He knew she was there, even if he couldn't see her. He could feel her brainwaves just as she could feel his. She stared into his golden, furious eye.

He wasn't her Allelujah, but he was a part of him. She would have to learn to understand him just as Allelujah had learned to work with Soma. Hallelujah was a completely different entity from Allelujah, but as she stared into his calculating, piercing golden eye, a tiny part of her realized that maybe, somehow, she could come to love him just as much.

She pressed the tiny red intercom button.

"I love you, Allelujah."

She stayed long enough to watch Hallelujah's confusion, then she darted down the halls.

She would wait as long as she needed to for Allelujah to return, but until then, she would watch his other half diligently, through unclouded eyes.