That's Childish, So Childish. . .
Chapter Twenty-Two: If One And One Make Two. . .
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Disclaimer--I don't own GW, nor GQ, nor any other combination of letters out there. . . I wonder why?
Warnings--Okay, last chapter's warnings didn't apply much. But hey, better overkill than under, right? In any case, here we go: angst, confusion, surprise, some cursing, and a number of threats that may or may not get carried out. . . we'll see.
Well, easy to guess: the Gundam pilots--and others--finally make a breakthrough on Zechs's identity. And he stumbles across them in time to notice. Two ex-Ozzies contemplate after.
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"Aaaaannndddd. . . we're back to square one," Duo sighed, straddling the seat of a backwards chair next to Heero and eyeing the computer's current position glumly. //Back to the list of every person in Sanc with the name Milliardo. . . I hope Trowa brings dinner soon, though by now it's probably a midnight snack. I'm getting hungry. Or maybe we should just give up for now, for today, and just go find beds to fall into. . .//
"Hn," Heero grunted, eyeing the screen with loathing. Slowly, he scrolled down, blue gaze narrowed sharply to each name he examined.
//Going through these one by one will take nigh forever! Is he going to try it? Yeesh, I bet even if Quatre and I go, he'll stay here until he gets something!// Deathscythe's pilot wondered with growing horror. "Well, hey, you have to admit--Zechs apparently did a damn good job of hiding his true identity!" he conceded.
"Or it's right under our noses," Wing's pilot returned grimly. "He's smart. The best place to hide is--"
"--Right in plain sight," Quatre finished for him without turning, frowning over a book of old newspaper clippings of big events in Sanc. "You know. . . Maybe we're going about this wrong. What if he was part of the Royal Family?"
Duo frowned, and looked over his shoulder at the blonde's stooped back. "Part of it? I think the soldiers would have made sure all of them were dead before leaving, surely. . ." //Though we can't be sure of that. But how could anyone escape that perimeter of killers?//
"Relena survived," Heero pointed out, his glare at the screen turning to a thoughtful frown. Quickly he began a new search. . .
//"Millardo" and "Royal Family"?// Duo scratched the back of his head. "So, you think he's some kind of cousin, then? That'd explain his pull in this place. . ."
The search engine was stubborn, and spat out some kind of error. Heero's teeth ground audibly.
Duo winced, and edged away slowly, keeping a wary eye on Heero. //Okay. . . I'm just. . . going to keep my distance here. . . Don't want to be too close when you get mad enough to destroy that computer, Heero!//
"Huh!"
Heero paused in his attempts to deal with that error by coding his way around it, fingers freezing for an instant. "Find something?"
//A photo?// Duo twisted in his seat to smile hopefully at the blonde. "Any luck?" he asked Quatre eagerly. //Pleeeeease? We've been at this half the day!//
Quatre, looking a bit puzzled, strode over with the heavy book in hand, thrusting it onto the desk next to Heero's elbow. "Well," he hazarded, "I'm not sure--the caption's cut off--but doesn't this boy look amazingly like Zechs does right now?"
All eyes fell on the picture at the tail of the article on the page. The headline announced the birth of the new Princess of Sanc, with text muttering about happy parents, a happy nation, and bright quotes from various nobility, world leaders, and relatives. . . but the bottom of the article, as well as the caption for the picture, were cut off in order to fit it to the page.
The picture depicted a young boy, dressed neatly, pale hair a fluffy, almost curly mass around his face, his mouth open in delight and eyes stuck on the squirming bundle in his arms--a bundle of young Princess, likely, who was cooing and cute, and probably quite a handful for a kid his size and age. But the boy's face--and if that hair was the right shade--was so very familiar that the regressed Oz pilot they knew could have been a mirror image. . . for all that his hair was much straighter and longer now. . . and they had never seen him this joyful.
//That /must/ be him!// Duo exclaimed to himself. "Either that's his twin brother, or I think you found him, Quatre!" he admitted gleefully.
Heero, frowning at the picture, abruptly lost his expression, eyes widening- -and, whirling back to the computer, attacked the keyboard with a vengeance. Obviously, some new suggestion had struck his mind like a ten- ton mobile suit carrier.
Duo shifted his concern from Quatre's inspiring article to watch Heero's new efforts with some worried. //Hell, he looks like he has some new idea, but the way he's stabbing those keys is rather frightening. . .//
Sandrock's pilot continued standing close to Duo's shoulder, reading the article slowly, puzzling through it to identify the boy in the picture. . .
//"Millardo" and "Peacecraft"?!? Heck, if there are so many in Sanc, I imagine there will be at least two in /that/ huge family!// Duo blinked at Heero's new idea, and shook his head in slow disappointment. //It won't-- //
Only one thing popped up.
One name.
The resulting silence made even Quatre lift his head. "Then. . . he /is/ a Peacecraft. . . ," he breathed in surprise.
Duo stared numbly, all thoughts on hold at the arrival of this disbelieved possibility entering his brainwaves. //Then he /is/ part of the Royal Family!//
"Only one way to be sure," Heero murmured, selecting the name.
A familiar boy appeared, a bit younger than they knew him, this time in flashier, more dignified white-and-blue apparel, half hiding behind someone in ermine-edged robes. That pale hair gleamed a familiar silvery-blonde. Those icy eyes were still determined, but uncertain, shy, not yet haunted, not yet hidden by long bangs. . . innocent.
The name beneath it, however, knocked the breath out of all three boys with stunning force. . .
Crown Prince, Prince Millardo Peacecraft of Sanc.
"Great Allah. . . ," a stunned Quatre murmured. "It's. . . he's. . . /him/!"
"Holy shit!" //But. . . /how/? How the heck could he have survived?!?//
"Now I understand. . . ," Heero whispered.
"/I/ sure as hell don't!" Duo exclaimed, flabbergasted. //But if /he's/ the crown prince, why is /she/ ruling the country?!?//
"But it /does/ explain a lot, doesn't it?" a fourth voice butted in.
//Sally Po?//
All three whirled towards the door, startled, to find Sally eyeing the screen with eyebrows still slowly recovering their former positions. She pushed off the doorway with a faint chuckle, walking over to lean over Heero's shoulder for a closer look. "No, no doubt about it. . . this became Oz's best mobile suit pilot. . . But then, that would be the last place the Alliance might hunt him, isn't it? Their own ranks? A /pacifist/?"
//But. . . "I am not a pacifist!" He emphasized that rather firmly on Heero's shins!// Duo blinked, and exchanged looks with Heero, noting that Wing's pilot must have recalled that same quote.
"Missing, no trace found, presumed dead in the fire," Quatre read quietly, scrolling down on the screen. . . "Allah only knows what happened that night, what it did to him."
Other eyes returned to the picture and short paragraph of biographical information underneath it. //My God, he must have seen them shooting--they might even have hit him! A little kid, in all that--// "'Have to get out; there's no-one left'. . . ?" Duo quoted softly.
Sally frowned at him. "Where did you hear that?" she demanded firmly.
Heero glared at Duo almost accusingly, as if stating that even that little additional information might have cut their search-time down by a few hours. Quatre merely blinked, curious but not surprised--perhaps he recalled that Duo had spent some time keeping an eye on the boy.
"I watched him when he arrived. Zechs spoke in his sleep--in his nightmares--those words. Repeated them. I thought later it was just what a kid in a burning building might say, but hey--the whole city went up in flames here, remember?" Duo sighed, propping head on hand and elbow on Quatre's article-book. //My God. . . those nightmares. . . They must be horrible. . . and every night!//
"'Have to get out'. . . ," Sally repeated thoughtfully, her saddened expression back on the picture.
//"I'm sorry. . . A coward, I'm such a coward. . ." Why? For surviving?// Duo frowned at that innocent picture, trying to wring answers from it by the power of his gaze alone. "Survivor's guilt?" he asked the empty air musingly.
"No," Sally stated behind him firmly. "That's not enough of an explanation for half of what he's done. Zechs Merquise is almost the complete antithesis to Milliardo Peacecraft. Something bigger than guilt alone changed that. . ."
//I'm not so sure,// Duo decided, peering up at her through coppery bangs.
Quatre echoed him. "I don't know, Sally. . . I can. . . Well, I can feel things about people--Duo can tell you, or Rashid. Any mention of Sanc left only. . . guilt and pain and. . ." The gentle blonde trailed off, frowning a moment at the floor, before daring to meet her eyes with surprise at his recollection as he added in a whisper, ". . . and shame."
//"I'm sorry. . ." For what?// "For what?" he repeated for the others to hear. "Something must have happened there, something more than just the massacre of the Royal Family."
"A reason to give up the throne to Relena," Heero added softly. "He doesn't want it. He didn't want her to know he lived unless he had to. . . Better dead than alive with--what?--over his head. . . He doesn't want /us/ to know. . ."
//What could be so awful he decides to become someone completely new and unrelated to those he loves, and used to love?// "Could seeking revenge be so terrible?" Duo tried.
Sally shrugged slightly. "Maybe. . . to a pacifist. . ." But she sounded dubious about it.
Quatre shook his head. "I don't think so. We're talking a sudden change, to make him want to bloody his hands. . ."
"You make it sound like a choice," reprimanded a quiet voice.
//Oh shit--he's been listening to us! How much did he hear?// Duo fought a shudder at the thought of future pranks striking in retribution, and slowly, with some trepidation, turned to look at the library doors. //If he feels so strongly about keeping this shame-thing hidden, he'll be furious for us finding out!//
Zechs stood there solemnly in the doorway, expressionless though his jaws were clenched, a familiar scowling young Chinese man looming behind him like a pet shadow. //I swear, I saw this guy before. . .//
"Wufei, you found him," Sally observed with a faint smile, bringing the tension down a small notch.
//This is our fifth Gundam pilot? Yeah, now that you mention it, he looks like the guy from New Edwards!// Duo blinked, and offered a tentative wave. "Erm. . . Hi, Zechs. . . And you must be Wufei. . ."
Icy blue eyes swept over all of them, taking in Quatre's blush, Sally's calm and friendly smile, Heero's stony accusing glare, Duo's embarrassed grin. Rage flared in those eyes, but even as they watched, it sank into a wave of pain and withdrawal, before the boy's head dipped, hiding them under long bangs. Hiding--his main self-defense.
Duo fought the sudden urge to get up and hug the boy. //Hell, he'd give /me/ singing daisies for that. . . But by God, he looks like he needs it!// But he stood slowly, worried. . . wanting to do /something/. . . just not sure what was safe to try.
"Why?" Heero asked into the heavy silence.
Slowly, Zechs's head lifted, that haunted look back in his expression, and turned to leave. But he paused, not moving to face them, only to answer, "Some transgressions in this world we can never be forgiven for. . . because the only rightful judges of our sins cannot answer us on this earth. . ."
//I don't understand. . .// Duo stared as the pale boy vanished off into the hall, his footsteps a mere whisper echoing off the walls and filling the ensuing silence as it grew more and more distant. . .
"I don't understand," Quatre whispered, echoing their thoughts. "What transgressions could be so evil that he condemns himself so utterly?"
Sally straightened, and strode for the door, only to be stopped by Wufei's arm.
"Let him be, onna," the Chinese man murmured.
//What?// Duo frowned. "Hey, Sally's a doctor--"
The man glared at him with sharp dark eyes. Sally shook her head at Duo negatively. "It's alright, Duo. . . Why, Wufei? He's suicidal. . ."
//Oh shit!!!// Duo could feel his eyes threatening to pop out of his head, and heard Heero's chair scrape as the other pilot jumped to his feet.
"Not any more so than before this," Wufei returned calmly. "He will make sure this mission, this alliance, reaches its goals first."
Deathscythe's pilot shuddered, and he glanced at Heero warily. "Sounds rather like you," he growled accusingly at Wing's pilot. //This had better not be the influence of /your/ attempted suicide, Heero!//
Heero merely blinked and spread his hands in a helpless "don't blame /me/" gesture.
Sally stared at her opponent a moment, then stepped back a pace. "I see. . . But you know more than we do, too, I think."
"I have. . . some ideas," the Chinese Gundam pilot admitted hesitantly.
"We're not leaving him alone until I know, Wufei--for /his/ sake!" she returned sharply, establishing her authority as a doctor with folded arms and a glare, showing a temper for the first time since the other pilots met her.
Wufei wavered visibly, glancing the way Zechs had gone. . .
//Just tell us already!// "Wufei--this affects the alliance, even if he doesn't think it does!" Duo blurted insistently. "And we just want to help him!"
Dark eyes flicked to Quatre suddenly, as the owner decided finally with a quiet grunt. "You said it already," Wufei stated grimly. "Blood on his hands. . . but with less choice than you think, especially if it was the night this city first fell. . ."
//He. . . /killed/ someone that night?//
"But he was at most maybe seven years at the time--a mere kid!" Quatre burst out in horror.
//A mere kid. . . A kid. . . A kid who can fly adult-killing mobile suits as a kid.// "A kid who stole mobile suits and flew a damaged transport plane. . . A kid who flew Tallgeese against a fleet of Aries. . .!" Duo reminded them all slowly. "A kid. . ."
". . . Who is not really a kid, if he managed that," Heero finished quietly.
"A killer." All eyes fell on Quatre at those words. "I think. . . I understand now. I disowned myself because my family prefers pacifism--and I had to fight. I don't think my father will be able to forgive me. Not for taking lives, for any reason. That's what pacifism is made of--the principle that all lives are so precious that it is better to let them take yours than to commit the horrible act of taking someone else's. . ."
//My God, Zechs. . . surely you understand that someone has to defend people. . . Wait a minute. . . ! "The people come first"?// Things clicked together finally. "That's it. Zechs killed--for his people. No- one else indeed! Nobody else would protect them, and that's his job! And in order to be able to do so, he killed. . . himself. . . Prince Milliardo Peacecraft is dead, so the Lightening Count could retaliate--revenge and rescue!"
Quatre made a face and stared with dread at the picture on the screen, at that idea and what /he/ could so easily become. Heero grimaced, mind whirling away at things hidden and the implications of this news, piecing things together that he had seen, trying to figure where Relena fit in. Sally closed her eyes with a painful sigh, probably sensing her work was cut out for her. Wufei closed his eyes, drawing on some inward calm.
Duo blinked away dampness threatening his eyes, and turned his gaze back to the picture on the screen, his mind overlaying haunted eyes over those shy innocent ones.
//At what price, Zechs. . . ? Your identity? Your life. . . ? Your /soul/? I won't let you sell the last, though you obviously think you have! There's a soul still in you. . . a noble soul that Quatre spoke of, hurt and driven. . .//
//I won't let you vanish into the darkness.//
//Hey, now rescuing /souls/, now /that's/ the job of good old Shinigami!//
And Duo Maxwell smiled slowly, with grim determination. . .
Then the smile fell with sudden realization.
"Oh hell--you /know/ this means he's going to pull something ruthless on the lot of us now!" L2's God of Death groaned in horror to his friends, burying his face in his hands. "We should have gotten a promise from him about no more pranks while we still had a chance!"
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Zechs sat on the roof just outside the topmost window, arms on his bent knees and knees almost to chest, staring out at the horizon he and Wufei had contemplated earlier. Here, memories gave him some respite, as only sea and stars filled his eyes, nothing to cue them, nothing terrible associated with them. Just the quiet and peace of the sharp ocean breeze, the salty scent of night. . .
//Alone again. . . Former friends will now wish to keep their distance, avoid the mess that is my life and any chance of getting caught up in this, my insanity. . . ,// Miri mused resignedly. //Perhaps I've just single- handedly destroyed the one alliance that could have ended this--and all by foolishly using the only resource I could think of--Relena.//
"Princess. . . ," he whispered to himself, a sad smile touching his lips. Zechs closed his eyes, remembering the last time he had spoken her, and relishing the memory.
//A knight on a fiery dragon? I wish! No, just a fallen Prince. . . a reluctant ghost. I have paths to haunt before I can fade, but I do not wish to haunt--and hurt--you. . .// He could feel that smile slipping away, and opened his eyes to the east again, waiting. . .
//There's something about the sunrise that gives hope when all else feels lost. Would that I could leave such a legacy, like Father did. . . and probably Relena will. But my fate seems to be much more disappointing to the world.//
Miri chuckled faintly. "Perhaps not everyone, though." //Noin would probably disagree with my opinion. . . Perhaps Treize would, too.//
"If you are referring to your choice of perches, Milliardo, I'm rather inclined to agree," Treize's voice returned from the window. "Not /everyone/ enjoys risky heights like you do."
Zechs smiled warmly to himself, not turning, though he could hear the older man carefully clambering out onto the roof and cautiously sitting on the tiles nearby. //That's right--I don't think you used to like these heights much. Now playing with birds on the ground, that is more your style. . . You always preferred Leos--but then, so did I. Mainly because I love free- fall, and that's not the same in an Aries. . .//
Treize grunted beside him. "I /do/ suppose the sea is pretty by moonlight. . . but I rather doubt that's why you're up here."
//Yes. . . and no.// Miri rested his chin on his forearms, watching the waves ripple from the horizon. "My memories aren't so fierce up here," he admitted with quiet pleasure. "And the view offers hope when none can be found elsewhere. . ."
"You always had hope before. What now?"
"They found out."
Treize stayed silent. . .
"They know who I once was, Treize. . ."
"They seemed a compassionate bunch to me."
"Even saints can feel pity, disappointment, or disgust, Treize."
"Will you judge them, then, before they can denounce you?" the older man asked with a slight smile.
Zechs frowned slightly. //I didn't think of it that way. He may be right. . .// "It feels safer," he acknowledged, considering the implications of those words.
A soft sigh beside him. "Milliardo. . . that is a child's way of thinking."
//Yes, I just realized.// Miri smiled wryly and shook his head, long hair flickering in the moonlight. "Childish, isn't it?" he chuckled.
"Very," Treize returned drolly.
"Very well, then. . . I'm up here because I don't want to face them and answer a good million questions." But he said it with a smile. //I know the other was childish, too. But the same could be said of various things I did as an adult, too.//
Darker blue eyes rolled at him. "I know you well enough by now that you don't have to lie to satisfy me, my friend. I can see through the lies all too well by now."
Zechs smiled contentedly and leaned back against the slope of the roof, hands moving behind his head. //I knew it wouldn't deceive you, Treize.// "Fine. I'm here because I don't want to see their reactions. It was easier to cut and run. . . though I think I left at a dignified walk, really. . ."
A heavy sigh answered him. "Milliardo. . ."
"Zechs," Miri corrected with quiet conviction, suddenly serious again. //It's better that way. Dorothy may not be the only one with ears here.// "The King is dead; long live the Princess. . ."
"Zechs, then. . ."
"And don't call me 'Colonel', either. . . Surely Acht managed to get me officially demoted by now."
"Zechs. . . !" Treize growled warningly.
Zechs smiled slyly, not antagonizing his former superior further. //You're not the only one who enjoys these games, Treize. You taught them to me, after all!//
The older man sighed with drawn-out breath, languishing into silence a moment, before gently inquiring, "Are you alright?"
"Well enough, considering the circumstances," the boy admitted quietly, looking up at the stars suspended overhead. //Better than I expected, really, after confronting my past. . .//
"They probably think you're suicidal or mad, you know."
Miri chuckled softly at the idea. "No more than they are. . . unless you're referring to 'mad' as in 'furious' at certain people." //Dermail dies. End of story. Now to determine just /how/. . .//
Treize's head was a darker shadow in the moonlight, bobbing in a slow nod. "I thought as much. . . Have you any idea where you will factor in?"
//Some ideas come to mind. . . But first, perhaps I should raid the library. Their digging about makes me wonder what else might lie there. . . Commander O'Negul may have hidden records--and if I can find those. . . ! Proof Dermail was behind it. Proof O'Negul was following orders. . .//
"I always find my role, Treize," he stated with reassuring amusement. //And /you're/ the one who likes to use the imagery of a play when referring to this war!//
"True," the older man agreed, smirking and folding his own hands behind his head so he, too, could watch the stars above.
//Proof that would help Relena secure peace. . . is it possible?//
"However, I'm not letting the final curtain descend until I have a chance to finish the fireworks. . . ," Zechs added with a slow, dark smile.
//Doesn't matter--the Lightening Count will strike again, somehow, even if I have to order extra telephone books and backscratchers!//
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To be continued.
Does anyone but me realize a tie between Zechs's character-song and Annie singing "The sun'll come out tomorrow."? The main difference being that the point of view of the first is a bit more despairing, and the other almost overly optimistic?
Chapter Twenty-Two: If One And One Make Two. . .
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Disclaimer--I don't own GW, nor GQ, nor any other combination of letters out there. . . I wonder why?
Warnings--Okay, last chapter's warnings didn't apply much. But hey, better overkill than under, right? In any case, here we go: angst, confusion, surprise, some cursing, and a number of threats that may or may not get carried out. . . we'll see.
Well, easy to guess: the Gundam pilots--and others--finally make a breakthrough on Zechs's identity. And he stumbles across them in time to notice. Two ex-Ozzies contemplate after.
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"Aaaaannndddd. . . we're back to square one," Duo sighed, straddling the seat of a backwards chair next to Heero and eyeing the computer's current position glumly. //Back to the list of every person in Sanc with the name Milliardo. . . I hope Trowa brings dinner soon, though by now it's probably a midnight snack. I'm getting hungry. Or maybe we should just give up for now, for today, and just go find beds to fall into. . .//
"Hn," Heero grunted, eyeing the screen with loathing. Slowly, he scrolled down, blue gaze narrowed sharply to each name he examined.
//Going through these one by one will take nigh forever! Is he going to try it? Yeesh, I bet even if Quatre and I go, he'll stay here until he gets something!// Deathscythe's pilot wondered with growing horror. "Well, hey, you have to admit--Zechs apparently did a damn good job of hiding his true identity!" he conceded.
"Or it's right under our noses," Wing's pilot returned grimly. "He's smart. The best place to hide is--"
"--Right in plain sight," Quatre finished for him without turning, frowning over a book of old newspaper clippings of big events in Sanc. "You know. . . Maybe we're going about this wrong. What if he was part of the Royal Family?"
Duo frowned, and looked over his shoulder at the blonde's stooped back. "Part of it? I think the soldiers would have made sure all of them were dead before leaving, surely. . ." //Though we can't be sure of that. But how could anyone escape that perimeter of killers?//
"Relena survived," Heero pointed out, his glare at the screen turning to a thoughtful frown. Quickly he began a new search. . .
//"Millardo" and "Royal Family"?// Duo scratched the back of his head. "So, you think he's some kind of cousin, then? That'd explain his pull in this place. . ."
The search engine was stubborn, and spat out some kind of error. Heero's teeth ground audibly.
Duo winced, and edged away slowly, keeping a wary eye on Heero. //Okay. . . I'm just. . . going to keep my distance here. . . Don't want to be too close when you get mad enough to destroy that computer, Heero!//
"Huh!"
Heero paused in his attempts to deal with that error by coding his way around it, fingers freezing for an instant. "Find something?"
//A photo?// Duo twisted in his seat to smile hopefully at the blonde. "Any luck?" he asked Quatre eagerly. //Pleeeeease? We've been at this half the day!//
Quatre, looking a bit puzzled, strode over with the heavy book in hand, thrusting it onto the desk next to Heero's elbow. "Well," he hazarded, "I'm not sure--the caption's cut off--but doesn't this boy look amazingly like Zechs does right now?"
All eyes fell on the picture at the tail of the article on the page. The headline announced the birth of the new Princess of Sanc, with text muttering about happy parents, a happy nation, and bright quotes from various nobility, world leaders, and relatives. . . but the bottom of the article, as well as the caption for the picture, were cut off in order to fit it to the page.
The picture depicted a young boy, dressed neatly, pale hair a fluffy, almost curly mass around his face, his mouth open in delight and eyes stuck on the squirming bundle in his arms--a bundle of young Princess, likely, who was cooing and cute, and probably quite a handful for a kid his size and age. But the boy's face--and if that hair was the right shade--was so very familiar that the regressed Oz pilot they knew could have been a mirror image. . . for all that his hair was much straighter and longer now. . . and they had never seen him this joyful.
//That /must/ be him!// Duo exclaimed to himself. "Either that's his twin brother, or I think you found him, Quatre!" he admitted gleefully.
Heero, frowning at the picture, abruptly lost his expression, eyes widening- -and, whirling back to the computer, attacked the keyboard with a vengeance. Obviously, some new suggestion had struck his mind like a ten- ton mobile suit carrier.
Duo shifted his concern from Quatre's inspiring article to watch Heero's new efforts with some worried. //Hell, he looks like he has some new idea, but the way he's stabbing those keys is rather frightening. . .//
Sandrock's pilot continued standing close to Duo's shoulder, reading the article slowly, puzzling through it to identify the boy in the picture. . .
//"Millardo" and "Peacecraft"?!? Heck, if there are so many in Sanc, I imagine there will be at least two in /that/ huge family!// Duo blinked at Heero's new idea, and shook his head in slow disappointment. //It won't-- //
Only one thing popped up.
One name.
The resulting silence made even Quatre lift his head. "Then. . . he /is/ a Peacecraft. . . ," he breathed in surprise.
Duo stared numbly, all thoughts on hold at the arrival of this disbelieved possibility entering his brainwaves. //Then he /is/ part of the Royal Family!//
"Only one way to be sure," Heero murmured, selecting the name.
A familiar boy appeared, a bit younger than they knew him, this time in flashier, more dignified white-and-blue apparel, half hiding behind someone in ermine-edged robes. That pale hair gleamed a familiar silvery-blonde. Those icy eyes were still determined, but uncertain, shy, not yet haunted, not yet hidden by long bangs. . . innocent.
The name beneath it, however, knocked the breath out of all three boys with stunning force. . .
Crown Prince, Prince Millardo Peacecraft of Sanc.
"Great Allah. . . ," a stunned Quatre murmured. "It's. . . he's. . . /him/!"
"Holy shit!" //But. . . /how/? How the heck could he have survived?!?//
"Now I understand. . . ," Heero whispered.
"/I/ sure as hell don't!" Duo exclaimed, flabbergasted. //But if /he's/ the crown prince, why is /she/ ruling the country?!?//
"But it /does/ explain a lot, doesn't it?" a fourth voice butted in.
//Sally Po?//
All three whirled towards the door, startled, to find Sally eyeing the screen with eyebrows still slowly recovering their former positions. She pushed off the doorway with a faint chuckle, walking over to lean over Heero's shoulder for a closer look. "No, no doubt about it. . . this became Oz's best mobile suit pilot. . . But then, that would be the last place the Alliance might hunt him, isn't it? Their own ranks? A /pacifist/?"
//But. . . "I am not a pacifist!" He emphasized that rather firmly on Heero's shins!// Duo blinked, and exchanged looks with Heero, noting that Wing's pilot must have recalled that same quote.
"Missing, no trace found, presumed dead in the fire," Quatre read quietly, scrolling down on the screen. . . "Allah only knows what happened that night, what it did to him."
Other eyes returned to the picture and short paragraph of biographical information underneath it. //My God, he must have seen them shooting--they might even have hit him! A little kid, in all that--// "'Have to get out; there's no-one left'. . . ?" Duo quoted softly.
Sally frowned at him. "Where did you hear that?" she demanded firmly.
Heero glared at Duo almost accusingly, as if stating that even that little additional information might have cut their search-time down by a few hours. Quatre merely blinked, curious but not surprised--perhaps he recalled that Duo had spent some time keeping an eye on the boy.
"I watched him when he arrived. Zechs spoke in his sleep--in his nightmares--those words. Repeated them. I thought later it was just what a kid in a burning building might say, but hey--the whole city went up in flames here, remember?" Duo sighed, propping head on hand and elbow on Quatre's article-book. //My God. . . those nightmares. . . They must be horrible. . . and every night!//
"'Have to get out'. . . ," Sally repeated thoughtfully, her saddened expression back on the picture.
//"I'm sorry. . . A coward, I'm such a coward. . ." Why? For surviving?// Duo frowned at that innocent picture, trying to wring answers from it by the power of his gaze alone. "Survivor's guilt?" he asked the empty air musingly.
"No," Sally stated behind him firmly. "That's not enough of an explanation for half of what he's done. Zechs Merquise is almost the complete antithesis to Milliardo Peacecraft. Something bigger than guilt alone changed that. . ."
//I'm not so sure,// Duo decided, peering up at her through coppery bangs.
Quatre echoed him. "I don't know, Sally. . . I can. . . Well, I can feel things about people--Duo can tell you, or Rashid. Any mention of Sanc left only. . . guilt and pain and. . ." The gentle blonde trailed off, frowning a moment at the floor, before daring to meet her eyes with surprise at his recollection as he added in a whisper, ". . . and shame."
//"I'm sorry. . ." For what?// "For what?" he repeated for the others to hear. "Something must have happened there, something more than just the massacre of the Royal Family."
"A reason to give up the throne to Relena," Heero added softly. "He doesn't want it. He didn't want her to know he lived unless he had to. . . Better dead than alive with--what?--over his head. . . He doesn't want /us/ to know. . ."
//What could be so awful he decides to become someone completely new and unrelated to those he loves, and used to love?// "Could seeking revenge be so terrible?" Duo tried.
Sally shrugged slightly. "Maybe. . . to a pacifist. . ." But she sounded dubious about it.
Quatre shook his head. "I don't think so. We're talking a sudden change, to make him want to bloody his hands. . ."
"You make it sound like a choice," reprimanded a quiet voice.
//Oh shit--he's been listening to us! How much did he hear?// Duo fought a shudder at the thought of future pranks striking in retribution, and slowly, with some trepidation, turned to look at the library doors. //If he feels so strongly about keeping this shame-thing hidden, he'll be furious for us finding out!//
Zechs stood there solemnly in the doorway, expressionless though his jaws were clenched, a familiar scowling young Chinese man looming behind him like a pet shadow. //I swear, I saw this guy before. . .//
"Wufei, you found him," Sally observed with a faint smile, bringing the tension down a small notch.
//This is our fifth Gundam pilot? Yeah, now that you mention it, he looks like the guy from New Edwards!// Duo blinked, and offered a tentative wave. "Erm. . . Hi, Zechs. . . And you must be Wufei. . ."
Icy blue eyes swept over all of them, taking in Quatre's blush, Sally's calm and friendly smile, Heero's stony accusing glare, Duo's embarrassed grin. Rage flared in those eyes, but even as they watched, it sank into a wave of pain and withdrawal, before the boy's head dipped, hiding them under long bangs. Hiding--his main self-defense.
Duo fought the sudden urge to get up and hug the boy. //Hell, he'd give /me/ singing daisies for that. . . But by God, he looks like he needs it!// But he stood slowly, worried. . . wanting to do /something/. . . just not sure what was safe to try.
"Why?" Heero asked into the heavy silence.
Slowly, Zechs's head lifted, that haunted look back in his expression, and turned to leave. But he paused, not moving to face them, only to answer, "Some transgressions in this world we can never be forgiven for. . . because the only rightful judges of our sins cannot answer us on this earth. . ."
//I don't understand. . .// Duo stared as the pale boy vanished off into the hall, his footsteps a mere whisper echoing off the walls and filling the ensuing silence as it grew more and more distant. . .
"I don't understand," Quatre whispered, echoing their thoughts. "What transgressions could be so evil that he condemns himself so utterly?"
Sally straightened, and strode for the door, only to be stopped by Wufei's arm.
"Let him be, onna," the Chinese man murmured.
//What?// Duo frowned. "Hey, Sally's a doctor--"
The man glared at him with sharp dark eyes. Sally shook her head at Duo negatively. "It's alright, Duo. . . Why, Wufei? He's suicidal. . ."
//Oh shit!!!// Duo could feel his eyes threatening to pop out of his head, and heard Heero's chair scrape as the other pilot jumped to his feet.
"Not any more so than before this," Wufei returned calmly. "He will make sure this mission, this alliance, reaches its goals first."
Deathscythe's pilot shuddered, and he glanced at Heero warily. "Sounds rather like you," he growled accusingly at Wing's pilot. //This had better not be the influence of /your/ attempted suicide, Heero!//
Heero merely blinked and spread his hands in a helpless "don't blame /me/" gesture.
Sally stared at her opponent a moment, then stepped back a pace. "I see. . . But you know more than we do, too, I think."
"I have. . . some ideas," the Chinese Gundam pilot admitted hesitantly.
"We're not leaving him alone until I know, Wufei--for /his/ sake!" she returned sharply, establishing her authority as a doctor with folded arms and a glare, showing a temper for the first time since the other pilots met her.
Wufei wavered visibly, glancing the way Zechs had gone. . .
//Just tell us already!// "Wufei--this affects the alliance, even if he doesn't think it does!" Duo blurted insistently. "And we just want to help him!"
Dark eyes flicked to Quatre suddenly, as the owner decided finally with a quiet grunt. "You said it already," Wufei stated grimly. "Blood on his hands. . . but with less choice than you think, especially if it was the night this city first fell. . ."
//He. . . /killed/ someone that night?//
"But he was at most maybe seven years at the time--a mere kid!" Quatre burst out in horror.
//A mere kid. . . A kid. . . A kid who can fly adult-killing mobile suits as a kid.// "A kid who stole mobile suits and flew a damaged transport plane. . . A kid who flew Tallgeese against a fleet of Aries. . .!" Duo reminded them all slowly. "A kid. . ."
". . . Who is not really a kid, if he managed that," Heero finished quietly.
"A killer." All eyes fell on Quatre at those words. "I think. . . I understand now. I disowned myself because my family prefers pacifism--and I had to fight. I don't think my father will be able to forgive me. Not for taking lives, for any reason. That's what pacifism is made of--the principle that all lives are so precious that it is better to let them take yours than to commit the horrible act of taking someone else's. . ."
//My God, Zechs. . . surely you understand that someone has to defend people. . . Wait a minute. . . ! "The people come first"?// Things clicked together finally. "That's it. Zechs killed--for his people. No- one else indeed! Nobody else would protect them, and that's his job! And in order to be able to do so, he killed. . . himself. . . Prince Milliardo Peacecraft is dead, so the Lightening Count could retaliate--revenge and rescue!"
Quatre made a face and stared with dread at the picture on the screen, at that idea and what /he/ could so easily become. Heero grimaced, mind whirling away at things hidden and the implications of this news, piecing things together that he had seen, trying to figure where Relena fit in. Sally closed her eyes with a painful sigh, probably sensing her work was cut out for her. Wufei closed his eyes, drawing on some inward calm.
Duo blinked away dampness threatening his eyes, and turned his gaze back to the picture on the screen, his mind overlaying haunted eyes over those shy innocent ones.
//At what price, Zechs. . . ? Your identity? Your life. . . ? Your /soul/? I won't let you sell the last, though you obviously think you have! There's a soul still in you. . . a noble soul that Quatre spoke of, hurt and driven. . .//
//I won't let you vanish into the darkness.//
//Hey, now rescuing /souls/, now /that's/ the job of good old Shinigami!//
And Duo Maxwell smiled slowly, with grim determination. . .
Then the smile fell with sudden realization.
"Oh hell--you /know/ this means he's going to pull something ruthless on the lot of us now!" L2's God of Death groaned in horror to his friends, burying his face in his hands. "We should have gotten a promise from him about no more pranks while we still had a chance!"
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Zechs sat on the roof just outside the topmost window, arms on his bent knees and knees almost to chest, staring out at the horizon he and Wufei had contemplated earlier. Here, memories gave him some respite, as only sea and stars filled his eyes, nothing to cue them, nothing terrible associated with them. Just the quiet and peace of the sharp ocean breeze, the salty scent of night. . .
//Alone again. . . Former friends will now wish to keep their distance, avoid the mess that is my life and any chance of getting caught up in this, my insanity. . . ,// Miri mused resignedly. //Perhaps I've just single- handedly destroyed the one alliance that could have ended this--and all by foolishly using the only resource I could think of--Relena.//
"Princess. . . ," he whispered to himself, a sad smile touching his lips. Zechs closed his eyes, remembering the last time he had spoken her, and relishing the memory.
//A knight on a fiery dragon? I wish! No, just a fallen Prince. . . a reluctant ghost. I have paths to haunt before I can fade, but I do not wish to haunt--and hurt--you. . .// He could feel that smile slipping away, and opened his eyes to the east again, waiting. . .
//There's something about the sunrise that gives hope when all else feels lost. Would that I could leave such a legacy, like Father did. . . and probably Relena will. But my fate seems to be much more disappointing to the world.//
Miri chuckled faintly. "Perhaps not everyone, though." //Noin would probably disagree with my opinion. . . Perhaps Treize would, too.//
"If you are referring to your choice of perches, Milliardo, I'm rather inclined to agree," Treize's voice returned from the window. "Not /everyone/ enjoys risky heights like you do."
Zechs smiled warmly to himself, not turning, though he could hear the older man carefully clambering out onto the roof and cautiously sitting on the tiles nearby. //That's right--I don't think you used to like these heights much. Now playing with birds on the ground, that is more your style. . . You always preferred Leos--but then, so did I. Mainly because I love free- fall, and that's not the same in an Aries. . .//
Treize grunted beside him. "I /do/ suppose the sea is pretty by moonlight. . . but I rather doubt that's why you're up here."
//Yes. . . and no.// Miri rested his chin on his forearms, watching the waves ripple from the horizon. "My memories aren't so fierce up here," he admitted with quiet pleasure. "And the view offers hope when none can be found elsewhere. . ."
"You always had hope before. What now?"
"They found out."
Treize stayed silent. . .
"They know who I once was, Treize. . ."
"They seemed a compassionate bunch to me."
"Even saints can feel pity, disappointment, or disgust, Treize."
"Will you judge them, then, before they can denounce you?" the older man asked with a slight smile.
Zechs frowned slightly. //I didn't think of it that way. He may be right. . .// "It feels safer," he acknowledged, considering the implications of those words.
A soft sigh beside him. "Milliardo. . . that is a child's way of thinking."
//Yes, I just realized.// Miri smiled wryly and shook his head, long hair flickering in the moonlight. "Childish, isn't it?" he chuckled.
"Very," Treize returned drolly.
"Very well, then. . . I'm up here because I don't want to face them and answer a good million questions." But he said it with a smile. //I know the other was childish, too. But the same could be said of various things I did as an adult, too.//
Darker blue eyes rolled at him. "I know you well enough by now that you don't have to lie to satisfy me, my friend. I can see through the lies all too well by now."
Zechs smiled contentedly and leaned back against the slope of the roof, hands moving behind his head. //I knew it wouldn't deceive you, Treize.// "Fine. I'm here because I don't want to see their reactions. It was easier to cut and run. . . though I think I left at a dignified walk, really. . ."
A heavy sigh answered him. "Milliardo. . ."
"Zechs," Miri corrected with quiet conviction, suddenly serious again. //It's better that way. Dorothy may not be the only one with ears here.// "The King is dead; long live the Princess. . ."
"Zechs, then. . ."
"And don't call me 'Colonel', either. . . Surely Acht managed to get me officially demoted by now."
"Zechs. . . !" Treize growled warningly.
Zechs smiled slyly, not antagonizing his former superior further. //You're not the only one who enjoys these games, Treize. You taught them to me, after all!//
The older man sighed with drawn-out breath, languishing into silence a moment, before gently inquiring, "Are you alright?"
"Well enough, considering the circumstances," the boy admitted quietly, looking up at the stars suspended overhead. //Better than I expected, really, after confronting my past. . .//
"They probably think you're suicidal or mad, you know."
Miri chuckled softly at the idea. "No more than they are. . . unless you're referring to 'mad' as in 'furious' at certain people." //Dermail dies. End of story. Now to determine just /how/. . .//
Treize's head was a darker shadow in the moonlight, bobbing in a slow nod. "I thought as much. . . Have you any idea where you will factor in?"
//Some ideas come to mind. . . But first, perhaps I should raid the library. Their digging about makes me wonder what else might lie there. . . Commander O'Negul may have hidden records--and if I can find those. . . ! Proof Dermail was behind it. Proof O'Negul was following orders. . .//
"I always find my role, Treize," he stated with reassuring amusement. //And /you're/ the one who likes to use the imagery of a play when referring to this war!//
"True," the older man agreed, smirking and folding his own hands behind his head so he, too, could watch the stars above.
//Proof that would help Relena secure peace. . . is it possible?//
"However, I'm not letting the final curtain descend until I have a chance to finish the fireworks. . . ," Zechs added with a slow, dark smile.
//Doesn't matter--the Lightening Count will strike again, somehow, even if I have to order extra telephone books and backscratchers!//
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To be continued.
Does anyone but me realize a tie between Zechs's character-song and Annie singing "The sun'll come out tomorrow."? The main difference being that the point of view of the first is a bit more despairing, and the other almost overly optimistic?