Umm, okay, I finally got this done. It seems like it's taken me forever. Neways . . . this chapter's pretty dramatic, not very funny. Some people think about death and make resolutions. You get to be more in-depth about a few of the characters I haven't covered all that much, and some other little things.

AC 207: The Hands of Fate (Part VIII)

Goodbye, Cruel World

"Dennis! Oh, Dennis!" Mariemaia threw her arms around the frail fifteen-year old boy, not able to contain her relief.

Dennis's face lit up like Cheryl— who'd been his nurse this past month— had never seen. He flashed handsome white teeth and hugged his one and only friend as tight as his deteriorated muscles would let him.

"Oh, honey . . . Mariemaia said in his weak grip. "You look terrible." His body was network of scars, both from injury and desperate, hasty surgery. His face had been spared, but she knew he'd never want to shave his head once his hair grew out again. Features that would one day be quite handsome once he outgrew the "cuteness" stared back at her, wincing. He wasn't even close to finished healing yet. She helped him lay back down.

"Were you worried about me?" he said, soft brown eyes eating through her in-control facade.

"You, me, my uncle, the others . . ." she sighed.

"What?"

She patted his hand. "Nothing you need to hear about now, in any case. A lot's happened out there.

She'd caught his attention, however. "No, what's going on? They won't let me have the television on in here."

Mariemaia sighed and explained what had happened, carefully extracting the part about her breakdown in the process. History had always been Dennis's favorite subject despite of the lack of appeal it had to other people. When she'd first begun tutoring him, it was all he had been willing to learn. Mariemaia had discovered if she started to teach Dennis about the people involved in other subjects— like the philosopher Albert Einstein— [Keep in mind, far in the future . . .] he'd been much more agreeable to those subjects. In fact, Dennis had learned, memorized, could comprehend and explain, and wrote a paper on the entire theory of relativity within five days. He was one of the all-too-common brilliant underachievers. Much like Einstein himself.

Dennis studied his hands for a minute. "I think Beliv will make another push very soon."

Mariemaia blinked. "Why?"

"Erik Beliv is not good at controlling his emotions. To make up for his overwhelming embarrassment over both the loss of one of his battleships and his hostage Relena Darlian, he's going to strike for a weaker colony somewhere deep within the border - stab at the heart, so to speak. This would not only gain him territory, but will also catch his enemies at a disadvantage." Dennis shrugged. It is a classical tactic for someone of his mental stature. Catch the enemy off its guard to cover up your own embarrassment. It works with the media all the time, and Beliv's played that tactic before. For instance, his big movement for Earth disarmament came at just the right amount of time after his attempted rape of Ms Darlian to have been hastily planned yet still work totally to his advantage. Most of Earth's remaining weapons were destroyed, leaving the planet mostly defenseless, should he try to form a colony revolution, yet at the time he played in favor to the majority of earthlings, who at that time wanted an everlasting peace. It's a lot more tactful than it seems from first glance. Kind of reminds me of Treize Khushrenada."

Mariemaia winced at her father's name. Dennis was completely and utterly right, though. "You know, you should become a military strategist. I can talk to Lady Une for you," she said lightly, trying to change the subject.

Dennis's dark eyes sparked with interest. "Could you?"

"I can talk to her next time we meet. I can't promise an immediate response, but I can recommend you."

Dennis relaxed, grinning again. "That's fine." He wasn't, however, able to be deterred. "You don't like it when people talk about your father, do you?"

Mariemaia swallowed and looked away. Finally, she said: "Everybody sees me as his living testament— ever since I made my little speech about carrying out his will. I was mistaken about what he wanted, but my blunder can never be reversed. People see me like I should be my father. I think people believe that I was raised under his care. The truth is, he never knew I existed! I was a mistake, an accident. How my mother managed . . . I don't really want to know."

"I'd imagine the only way she survived would be by your grandfather's support— after divulging the delicate subject of your patronage," Dennis said without hesitation. His mind, newly awoken from a life-threatening coma, was buzzing quite loudly.

"I meant how she even acquired such a man in the first place," she said quietly, "but I see your point. How cheap." Mariemaia shifted her position, sitting on Dennis's bed. She ran the conversation through her head, again and again at maximum speed until the ghostly image returned and hovered in her mental vision. "God, it wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't show himself!" she exploded, jumping to feet that were already sore from pacing. She'd said the line a thousand times in her head but this was the first time she'd said it aloud. She suddenly felt much less harried.

Dennis looked at her wisely, urging her to continue with his attentive silence. He knew her well enough to control his comments.

"I don't know who the hell he thinks he is, playing to be my guardian angel or something. He gives me these looks that say he's sorry for putting me through what I've gone through, but that isn't enough. He's so damn persistent. It's like he doesn't understand that my position can't be reversed right now. Though I hate it, it can't work for the goal I want any other way."

"He's still around? How did he find out about you, I wonder?" Dennis had always been very open to things such as ghosts and spirits and magic. His unquestioning belief comforted Marie.

"What can I do?" she asked quietly.

Dennis was silent for a long while. He avoided her hard, demanding gaze, looking out the window or at a picture on the wall or the various monitors strewed around his bed. Finally, he said, "Maybe you should listen. Give him a chance. He might be able to help end this. I wouldn't put it beyond his capabilities."

"I can't forgive him for what he did to me," Mariemaia said. "That's why it's so hard to do that."

Dennis sighed, suddenly patronizing. "You must overcome the personal pain. Isn't that what you tried to say to me? Look at what happened. Besides, you can't blame him. He had no way of knowing."

Mariemaia's heart fell. He was right. The boy three years her underclassman had seen straight through her soul. "The worst part is, I can't get anyone else to believe me."

There was a soft knock against the door panel. Marie looked up sharply to see Heero Yuy standing there. "I couldn't help but overhear," he said softly, as if embarrassed at being so rude. "I might be easier to make people believe than you think," he told her. "As long as you convey the ultimate belief you have. You can work miracles on people. I've made speeches off of that ideology."

Marie looked at him, the face and body that seemed so much less worn than it had a month ago. He'd obviously been resting. "Do you believe me?"

"Frankly, it wouldn't surprise me if Treize's ghost was following you around. To be honest, I think he's trying to make up for lost time. I had quite a shock when my wife came home pregnant. I couldn't imagine what it'd be like to never meet my own daughter in person. I've discussed this briefly with Une, and she knew him better than anyone, really. She says he's the type that would have been a good, responsible father, though perhaps a bit overprotective."

Heero sighed and brushed chocolate-brown hair out of his face. "Well, I came here to talk with Ender at Trowa's request, but I see you two are visiting so I'll come back later. Good afternoon."

Just like that, he disappeared. Mariemaia shrugged off the feeling that he had disappeared up an air-conditioning vent and turned back to her friend. She tried to think of something lighter to say.

Dennis grinned, sensing her discomfort. "How do you like your Kirin? I hear the Specials got custom models . . ."

~~@[~*,~]@~~

Heero shook his head, trying to make sense out of the conversation that he'd just overheard. Could it be true? He asked himself. Could he really still be trying to manipulate things? That was something he'd have to talk to Trowa about— no, on second thought he wouldn't. Trowa probably wouldn't believe his niece. He wouldn't talk to anyone. That would be violating Marie's trust.

He wandered past the waiting room of the London hospital and stopped, surprised to see Phailin and Wufei with a woman he vaguely recognized. They all looked upset. Heero caught Wufei's eye and the Chinese man scowled at him.

Heero quickly went about his business. Kind of odd, he thought, embracing his wife and daughters outside (their flight had just arrived).

~~@[~*,~]@~~

"The prognosis is worse than I even suspected. The doctor said you shouldn't expect more than a few hours," Sally told them grimly. She gave Phailin a pitying look. "I'm sorry. These things happen, I'm afraid."

Phailin drew a deep breath and reached for her husband's hand. She looked to him, but he only growled. "Wufei . . ."

"What do you want me to say?" he said, his voice angry, berating. "Why does everything always have to happen to me? He muttered to himself. "Leave me alone, woman!" He threw down his arms and stormed off.

Phailin looked after him, an expression somewhere between shock and rage on her face. " . . . Bastard . . ." she whispered.

Sally looked back and forth between Wufei's retreating back and the obviously upset Phailin. "What was that?"

Phailin shook her head vigorously. "Forget about it. For some reason, I just knew he'd do that. I . . . is there any way to know exactly when?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want to know the instant it's gone." Despite Phailin's ferocity and toughness she was, well, a woman. Her instinct to protect her child rose above all else.

Sally thought. "We could hook you up to the ultrasound. It would show the heartbeat."

Phailin nodded, hand pressed against her stomach. "I would like that."

~~@[~*,~]@~~

Relena found Phailin in the maternity ward. She had been wandering around, smiling at all the new little miracles when she spotted the door being closed to an ultrasound room. She smiled at the thought, but as soon as she saw the expression on Phailin's face she knew it was bad news. She stuck her head in the window, and Phailin gave her the motion to enter.

"What's up?" she asked quietly, closing the door with a soft click. She walked over to the woman and took her hand, realizing the relevance of Wufei's fit outside.

"I want to know . . . when it's over," Phailin said. "I can't help, but I want to at least say I did everything I could."

Relena felt saddened. She gave her friend a tight hug. "It must be so horrible to know," she reflected quietly.

Phailin sat and unwound the sash around her outfit, unraveling it carefully to expose only her stomach. The interesting cultural costumes she wore were not made like shirts and jeans. "Hook me up, Sally."

Relena started at the name. She looked up, into the face of a woman she had once known. Sally nodded. "Hello, Ms. Darlian. It's good to see you well."

"I like the hair."

"I just had it styled this morning," Sally replied. It was cut very short, in the current fashion of the London area. She poured a little cold gel on the slight bulge of somewhat pale olive skin and spread it around. She spent a minute locating the fetus and then locked the ultrasound in place in a metal arm extended over the Thai woman. "There it is," she said simply. Can you hear the heartbeat?"

Phailin tried to relax on the padded table, though her eyes searched the moving picture longingly. "I hear it."

"I guess this answers the question of why Wufei was so upset," Relena said. You poor thing. This must be torture for you.

Phailin snorted, dismissive. "I don't want him anywhere near me if he's going to act like it's all my fault again. He was being so accepting about it, but just now . . . he's a pig. All men are pigs, I've come to believe," Phailin said bitterly. "How could he disappoint me like this?"

Relena took a last glance at the screen and stood, still patting Phailin's hand absently. "Well, I'm going to go look into that. You can't let him abandon you like that. That's flat against the rules."

"Don't trouble yourself. I will teach him a lesson later."

Relena shook her head stubbornly. "No, he needs to be here now or he'll never get over it. You won't have him with you in your time of need. Trust me on this one. You can't let him skate."

Phailin started to protest, but sighed and fell silent. She turned back to the image of her little deformed child, and even she was able to see why it was better it died.

Relena stormed down the hall, as angry as she'd ever been.

~~@[~*,~]@~~

Heero had snuck up behind him so quietly and so quickly that Wufei didn't even know it until he felt the sharp blow across the back of his head. Heero wiped sticky hair gel onto his jeans and gave him a disdainful look. "What in holy hell do you think you're trying to pull, baka?" he demanded.

Wufei growled, but was seeing stars from Heero's kindness and wouldn't have won a battle with the Japanese man. "And why the hell do you care?"

"Because my wife is making me care," Heero said. "I probably would anyway, you know that?" Without giving Wufei time to think, he shoved him down into the car they had come in. He climbed in after and locked the doors and windows.

"Now you're gonna listen to me, and listen to me good, understand? I'm sick and tired of these little bullshit games you play. Relena's outright disgusted by your behavior, and I'm certainly getting there. You should be in there with your wife. No, I didn't give you permission to talk. When you married Phailin, you took on all the responsibilities of a husband and a father. You promised her you would support her in times of need. You promised her eternal loyalty and commitment, and you promised to have an equal hand in raising your kids. That's your child that's dying in there, Wufei, and whether or not you want to witness it's death is beside the point. Phailin has to. She's upset and the only one she wants for comfort is you, though she may not admit it to all of us. You have the obligation to be with your wife. Share what you are feeling with her, or I know you two aren't going to work out. Swallow your pride, Chang, and do the right thing. It's dishonor if you don't." Heero finished his little rant, red in the face but cold in the eyes. He opened the door and stepped out, not waiting to see if Wufei would do the same.

That lack of caring set Wufei off. How could he preach about honor when he had two little healthy children of his own? How did he know how it felt?

With one motion he disembarked from the vehicle and lunged at Heero. Heero sidestepped and Wufei missed. "Who the hell do you think you are, dammit! You don't know what it's like to lose a wife and children!"

Heero turned around, his glare so full of daggers Wufei had trouble not thinking of his katana at home. "Oh, and how would you know?" Heero caught Wufei's shirt and brought them nose-to-nose. "I had to kill my own child once. Neither of us had been thinking, and Relena wasn't even eighteen at the time she got pregnant. She had to have an abortion. You know how that felt? I promised I'd never kill anyone again, and I broke that promise. I still grieve over that. So shut your mouth and go comfort your wife."

Wufei staggered back. One look from the enraged Heero was all it took. As he paced through the hospital, Wufei's mind reinitiated itself. He actually found himself feeling sorry for Heero. Beyond that, he knew he had to apologize to his wife. From how it sounded, she was very upset with him. I guess I would be, too, he admitted. He began to rehearse his words in his head.

Wufei spotted Sally in the ultrasound room, but Phailin wasn't with her. "I sent her to a room to rest up a bit. She was quite angry with you still. I think you'd better go share a little pain with her before she gets too set in seeking revenge. A woman like that could do you serious harm."

"I know," Wufei said, rolling up his sleeve to show her the scar he'd gotten for being a smartass to her. "Where's the room?"

Sally told him the number and he left in a hurry. He approached quietly and peered in the window on Phailin. She was lying on her side on top the sheets, curled up slightly with her back to the door.

Wufei swung the light door open, trying not to make a sound. He closed it just as quietly and sat down on the small bed. She didn't shift, but she knew he was there all the same. She spoke only when he touched her hip gently. "Go away."

Wufei sighed quietly and recalled his fingers. The gesture had meant well, but she was apparently not buying his apology. Then, he realized with a start why not. He felt his heart fall into his stomach. With a final decision, he took a deep breath and ignored his doubts. She'd always made him do that. He didn't want to lose her over something so minor. "I'm sorry," he said, eyes downcast and looking at the floor.

He sensed confusion arise in place of Phailin's anger. She didn't ask, but he could sense the words in the air: Why did you abandon me, Chang? He could even hear her voice scolding him.

Wufei kicked off his sandals and curled up next to her. He put his hand on her waist again. This time, she didn't object. "I'm sorry," he said again, more definite. "I— it was being irresponsible of me, for sure. You shouldn't have to be strong for yourself all the time. I said that when we were first together, but you need my help so rarely I forget how much we really need each other. I've always been solitary. It's a hard habit to kick, even now.

"It's not the first time I've had a child die. When Merian was killed, I found out later that she'd been carrying a child. She probably didn't even know herself. It broke my heart, as much as I loved her. Her father was so angry with me . . . It was the last straw for them. That's when I was asked to leave, when they found out I hadn't saved an innocent child's life. God, I spent years wallowing over that! I couldn't go watch our child die . . . too many bad memories erode my strength in times like this. I don't know if you understand, or will ever understand the pain I still feel for her and my unborn son. When you said that it was deformed because of bad genes, it made me blame myself. I . . . I feel so guilty, Phailin! I can't bare it!"

Phailin breathed in sharply and it was only then that he realized she was crying. He'd never seen her cry much before. She was always the strong one, fixed with the resolve to be even to his bravery. She rolled over and pressed her body against his in a very animal reaction that surprised him in its suddenness. He enfolded her in a tight hug, caring little about the awkwardness and the weight of her on top of his arm. In that instant, Wufei knew he'd never face the pain she did emotionally. Being a soldier was blissfully uncomplicated. Slowly, her sobs changed from those of remorse to those of relief. Wufei chided himself for not coming to comfort her sooner. Habitually, he stroked her soft blue-black hair, loose like it was so rarely.

"It's not just that, either," he continued, mumbling against the side of her head. "It's you, Phailin, it's you. I want a child so bad, and it's hard not to be jealous of Heero and Duo . . . it all seemed as easy for them as it's been difficult for us. I imagine days ahead like I see theirs today, with you by my side. Always you. I want to share such an experience with only you. There's nothing I want more than to make you happy, Phailin, nothing. I know you see those children in the same way. Tell me you share these feelings, please, Phailin . . ." He trailed off into silence, listening to her faint cries of yes, feeling her lips move against his shoulder. He literally felt her shiver at his words, "If something happened to you, I'd kill myself."

After many minutes of emotional silence and draining, Phailin opened her swollen eyes and looked into his, still locked tightly and securely in his arms. "It's not your fault," she whispered, the pain already ebbing out of her voice. "It's not anyone's. I'm glad it's over . . . no child needs to suffer through life as ours would have. Buddha . . . Buddha taught that life was full of suffering. I've gone through all my life knowing it, through the death of my father and the sufferings of that wretched training and my painful disguises that eventually led me to the best thing that's ever touched upon my life. If I could go back and undo all of it, I wouldn't. I would never have met you. This death will lead us to more joyous times once we have a healthy child. We must always remember the sacrifice it made."

"I should have no problem with that," Wufei said, feeling the immense tension in his wife ease considerably. "How soon do you think we'll be ready to try again?"

~~@[~*,~]@~~

Drifting

I can't take it anymore.

Drifting through a cloud of doubt,

the boy is left without

What good am I doing here? I'm no use to anyone. I just cause trouble.

Drifting, he no longer feels the pain

of what others call shame

I'm not asking for forgiveness. I'm asking for release.

Drifting past the point of no return,

knowing he's going to burn

Please, just let me go.

Drifting, the hope he felt is gone once more,

and a light shines behind the door

It will be better this way.

Drifting,

because he let go.

~~@[~*,~]@~~

The nurse walked into Dennis's room, happy of the thought of seeing his bright face. He'd been so happy since that red-haired girl had come to visit. Her eyes tracked to his bed, and she screamed in horror and shock.

He was lying in a pool of bright red blood. His pure white bedsheets were stained with it. Weak, almost too weak to move, he turned his head to give her the most pitiful look she'd ever seen on someone his age. His slit wrists lay at his sides, and the knife he'd used on his dinner was clutched tight in one fist. "It's better this way," he whispered sadly. Dark eyelids closed over those beautiful chocolate-brown eyes and the black boy's youthful face no longer seemed so innocent.

She ran for the emergency team, but she feared it was too late for him.

~~@[~*,~]@~~

It was a little past two in the morning. The baby had finally settled down, but Sophie found herself wide-awake. Duo's soft snoring beside her usually lulled her off to sleep, especially when she was as exhausted as she was, but tonight all it made her do was feel irritated.

Her client didn't know it, seeing as how her name had changed, but he was asking her to look into the financial and legal background of the one family that she swore would never seek place in her thoughts again. They had a long history of dishonesty, and Sophilia Dukovne of the extremely rich, extremely powerful Dukovne family had nothing to do with it. She had written herself out of the book, so to speak.

Her father had always been a decent man, but his reputation was stained by her greedy mother's infamous troubles with money and illegal substances and gambling and only God knew what else. Her brothers and sisters all dabbled in it as well; they had the spoils of their parents. Out of five, Sophie seemed to be the only one of them that had never been in trouble with the law. Of course, they always got away with it because of the money.

The call she'd gotten that afternoon had been very disquieting. Sophie had almost flat refused the man help, but changed her mind after sorting through the morality. It really wasn't her problem. What he had asked for wasn't much. He was merely asking for hard data to be used in court against her eldest brother (of course, he didn't know Joseph was her brother). Sophie gave him what she knew and promised to look into it. After the episode when she'd stormed out of their summerhouse never to return, however, she hardly wanted to go snooping back, even if it was just through computers.

She sighed and rolled out of bed. Feeling the warm carpet on her bare toes. Even in her thin silk nightgown— though she was becoming a bit self-conscious since she'd given birth to Vincent— the L.A. winter did not chill her in the slightest. Duo, in his underwear, protested sleepily as the sheets were pulled off and tugged them back. She brushed unruly black curls out of her face and studied her sleeping husband for a moment.

She'd been eighteen when she'd fled her family, denounced all inheritances and disappeared into the crowd of people like she'd never been born. She had not taken nearly as much money as she needed and was wandering the streets when she'd encountered a twenty-two-year-old Duo Maxwell on the steps of an old church. She distinctly remembered the rain, cold and lashing, and remembered him looking upon her with pity and giving her his coat. He offered the warm refuge of the church, and insisted rather forcibly when she refused. Sophie had always hated churches, as she even to this day hated God for the life he had given her. Over a hot bowl of soup they spoke, reluctantly on her part, about how even a simple kindness should never be ignored. Despite Duo's publicity, he really wasn't the immature little twerp the press made him out to be. He was kind and decent, like a priest but without the celibacy.

Sophie had never told Duo about her family. She was afraid of his criticism, his concern and his insistence that a person should always make amends. Her family had been preying on her for years, and Sophie had long ago accepted that they would never forgive one another. She made a decision: She was going to surface one last time to tell them goodbye forever. She had just turned twenty-three. She was a mother, a wife, and as much as she hated it she was a sister and daughter too. She couldn't keep chasing herself around in circles. She had to end it for good.

At her computer, she dialed up the familiar number. It was her father's private line, and she thought it would be easier to talk to them. The rest of her family was too unpredictable.

It rang once, twice. After five there was a click. "You've reached the number you've dialed. So, if you've got news, leave a message."

That was very unlike the warm, friendly David Dukovne she used to know. In fact, that message sounded almost paranoid. There was a beep. Sophie took a deep breath. "Hey, it's me. I just called to say that this is the last time. It's final. I can't keep up the tension any longer and I'm sick of staying out of the way of the spy network you have rigged up to trap me. I'm never going to forgive you, and I'm not sorry I ran away. I'm not coming home, and I have a right to privacy. I don't spy on you, you know. For the last time, goodbye." She gently replaced the receiver and her family crest disappeared from the screen. It was done. She could finally say goodbye to the cruel world that had dragged her down all her life. Her shoulders felt considerably less burdened.

~~@[~*,~]@~~

Death tutted and shook his skull sadly. The ghost of Treize stared at him angrily. Behind them, Binky neighed impatiently.

IT'S MY JOB, Death insisted.

"We had a deal," said the ghost.

I CAN'T ABANDON MY JOB. IT'S HAPPENED BEFORE AND ALL IT GOT ME WAS A LOT OF GRIEF. Death's flawless memory dredged up the images of the Discworld in chaos.

"You promised!"

Death swung his scythe, pretending not to hear. He didn't want to be a traitor.

***********************************************

Argh, is Dennis going to die? Heh heh, you're going to have to wait. I should have the next chapter up REALLY SOON!

-Itsumo