A/N: I realized after I posted the previous chapter that I'd have to write another one, for the sake
of plot cohesion and motivation. I also proofread as well as I know how. Please tell me if you see
something out of place or something that doesn't belong. Please tell me also what you like in here
(Hint: that means _review_).
FLASHBACK: THE PREVIOUS EVENING
They had been in an open lot in back of the sweepers' scrapyard, setting the final charges so that Wing Zero and
Deathscythe Hell could be exploded -- from the outside of course.
"They're such evil machines, Duo," said Heero as he wired another amatol pack. "They shouldn't exist in peacetime."
"You're right, Heero." Duo agreed, for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Leave temptation alone."
"So. . . you won't miss them when they're gone, not even a little? You were rather upset when OZ destroyed your first
Gundam."
Duo was silent for a while, registering his own thoughts.
"I thought I was fighting for the colonies," he began, by way of preamble. "When I began my mission, I truly believed
that."
"You mean you weren't?"
"No."
"Why, then?"
Duo looked rather ashamed. "I think it was revenge."
"That doesn't really surprise me," said Heero.
"I think I wanted to cheat death out of his final victory. . . I mean, I didn't want them to die for nothing. . . Father Maxwell
and all the others who died in that church. Except, in this case, I wanted to make their deaths _cost_ something, instead of
_mean_ something. I know that's really low. . . I think I was pretty sick for awhile."
"You didn't answer my question."
"um. . . What question was that again?"
Heero was used to these lapses in Duo's concentration where his thoughts became unfocused. He couldn't really blame the
other, since he'd been feeling a little unfocused himself lately, and he'd had by far the most intense training. However, he
couldn't help but have a feeling that this might be the question Duo didn't want to answer.
"About Deathscythe."
Duo appeared to be thinking very hard, taking his time, considering and reconsidering. "No, Heero," he said finally. "Not
a bit. I found what I threw out on the junkpile and fixed it."
He truly believed this when he said it, so it wasn't really a lie. It was only later that he came to realize how wrong he
was.
"What was that?"
"My humanity," replied Duo. "How could you do it, Heero? How could you fight under the influence of an awful machine
like Zero, and still keep your soul?"
"I have no soul. At least, I never found it," Heero said, and his voice was bitter. "I think mine was removed so I could be
made into a perfect little tin soldier. Not that it ever happened."
~not removed, really~ thought Duo. ~not by a long shot, I don't think. Just tinkered around with, some, but. . . to be toyed
with by a machine. . .~ "That's. . . that's just awful," said he. He knew Heero's experience wasn't completely without
precedents, but he couldn't really fathom such loss. He figured he'd gotten off lucky.
"There's the only soul I ever knew," Heero continued, pointing at Wing Zero, "and it's evil."
"Like me," Duo's face frowned itself into lines more recently developed. "Sometimes I wonder why I still live, having
killed so many."
"Maybe your mission isn't over yet," said Heero. "Maybe you're not evil after all."
"You mean, maybe there's hope for me?" said Duo. He looked at his hands. "Nice of you to say that, Heero. I hope so. I
hope that when I die, I'll get into heaven. Maybe then I'll get to meet my parents." He gave a short, rueful laugh. "Maybe
I'll even get a clean pair of hands."
"What do you mean?"
Duo's face screwed up a little, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I used to imagine. . . in fact sometimes I still do. . . that
when I'm eating, I can taste the blood of the people I've killed. It just sorta rubs off my hands, and then everything I eat has
the taint of copper and smoke. It'd be nice to taste clean food again--" Here he gave a short, feverish laugh-- "even though
I know that taste is only in my imagination."
"There." Heero finished soldering the last wire into place. "It's done."
They picked up their tool kits and headed for the blast shelter. Both remained silent until they got to the small, squat, gray
building that occupied a corner of the scrapyard. There was no lock on the door. ~someday I'll have to remember to
install one~, thought Duo. They went inside and he flipped on the lights. A lone snake slithered off the shelter's only chair
and out through a hole in the metal wall. Duo would've given a lot to know how snakes had gotten into the colony to begin
with.
"Evangeline?" Heero queried, picking up the thin paperback book that was lying on the chair.
"Longfellow. It's a story about exiles," Duo said, by way of qualification. "I guess I must've identified with their situation,
somehow."
Heero opened the book to a page somewhere in the middle and began to read in monotone:
"In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry confrontation,
"Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician
"Entered with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the altar.
"Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence
"All that clamorous throng; and thus he spake to his people;
"Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and mournful
"Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock strikes.
" 'What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has seized you?
" 'Forty years of my life have I laboured among you, and taught you,
" 'Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another!
" 'Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations?
" 'Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness?
" 'This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it
" 'Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred?
" 'Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you!
" 'See! in those sorrowful eyes, what meekness and holy compassion!
" 'Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, "O Father, forgive them!"
" 'Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us,
" 'Let us repeat it now, and say, "O Father, forgive them!" '
"Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people
"Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded that passionate outbreak,
"And they repeated his prayer, and said, 'O Father, forgive them!' "
"Hn. . . interesting," said Heero when he'd finished the verse, thinking of Relena Peacecraft and her pacifist ways.
"That's from the part where the British soldiers are exiling the Acadians from Nova Scotia by order of the British King,"
said Duo reflectively. "I think Father Maxwell and Father Felician had a lot in common."
"I don't know if I could be that forgiving," said Heero.
Duo snorted self-deprecatingly. "Nor I."
He thought over the events of the past few days--the destruction of Libra, Heero's climactic victory over Zechs and his
destroying of the final fragment of Libra that threatened the Earth--and then Heero had come to him, asking if they could
use the scrapyard to finish off Zero and Deathscythe once and for all. Duo had recoiled at first and wouldn't allow it, but
then Heero had said something that changed his mind about the Gundams forever:
{{"There can be no true peace unless we drop our guard, Duo. It's the true first step."
{"That's crazy, Heero," Duo had objected vehemently. "It'd be suicide. We'd be like sitting ducks to our enemies."
{"We?" asked Heero, quirking an eyebrow.
{"Alright, then, _I_ would feel like a sitting duck. Would you really have us die for Relena's ideals?"
{"Would you feel better if I watched your back for you?" His voice was taunting, almost daring Duo to say yes.
{"You mean, so I can watch yours?" Duo hmphed disbelievingly. "How do you know I wouldn't try to finish you off
myself for some reason? We're _both_ trained killers, after all. Can trained attack dogs trust each other that much?"
{"It's called _real_ peace, Duo. Didn't you grow up as a Christian?"
{"_Sort_ of."
{"Well, then you know that even if it seems like suicide, real peace can't be provisional. You _know_ that." }}
And he did know it, just as he knew Heero was wrong about what he'd said just now in the shelter. He _could_ be that
forgiving. Duo believed it totally. He'd seen it first-hand, after all. Deep down inside, however, in a place he hardly even
knew existed, he didn't really know if he, himself, could forgive in the same way.
* * *
~I trust you, Heero~ thought Duo, standing ankle deep in wet sand on that long-forgotten beach, along that long-forgotten
shoreline, looking out over the horizon on a sweltering summer evening (for as you'll recall, that's where the first
chapter starts this part of the Gundam story). The wind increased in speed, whipping his braid back and forth. ~Always.~
Heero had somehow talked Duo into letting him do all the wiring on the Gundams himself. Apparently, he trusted only
himself to do the job properly. Duo pondered the enigma of Heero while they stood and listened to the sounds of all-
encompassing nature. He knew that Heero wasn't afraid for his own personal safety, and never had been. He could have
gone to any one of numerous sites to scrap his Gundam. Quatre alone must have owned a few _hundred_ places where he
could have done the job, for example. So, why had he come to the sweepers? Why was he still with him? Was it for Duo's
sake?
Duo thought he knew the real reason Heero was hanging around. Even though he didn't fear for his own personal safety,
he still wanted to keep a wary eye on the Deathscythe pilot.
TBC
of plot cohesion and motivation. I also proofread as well as I know how. Please tell me if you see
something out of place or something that doesn't belong. Please tell me also what you like in here
(Hint: that means _review_).
FLASHBACK: THE PREVIOUS EVENING
They had been in an open lot in back of the sweepers' scrapyard, setting the final charges so that Wing Zero and
Deathscythe Hell could be exploded -- from the outside of course.
"They're such evil machines, Duo," said Heero as he wired another amatol pack. "They shouldn't exist in peacetime."
"You're right, Heero." Duo agreed, for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Leave temptation alone."
"So. . . you won't miss them when they're gone, not even a little? You were rather upset when OZ destroyed your first
Gundam."
Duo was silent for a while, registering his own thoughts.
"I thought I was fighting for the colonies," he began, by way of preamble. "When I began my mission, I truly believed
that."
"You mean you weren't?"
"No."
"Why, then?"
Duo looked rather ashamed. "I think it was revenge."
"That doesn't really surprise me," said Heero.
"I think I wanted to cheat death out of his final victory. . . I mean, I didn't want them to die for nothing. . . Father Maxwell
and all the others who died in that church. Except, in this case, I wanted to make their deaths _cost_ something, instead of
_mean_ something. I know that's really low. . . I think I was pretty sick for awhile."
"You didn't answer my question."
"um. . . What question was that again?"
Heero was used to these lapses in Duo's concentration where his thoughts became unfocused. He couldn't really blame the
other, since he'd been feeling a little unfocused himself lately, and he'd had by far the most intense training. However, he
couldn't help but have a feeling that this might be the question Duo didn't want to answer.
"About Deathscythe."
Duo appeared to be thinking very hard, taking his time, considering and reconsidering. "No, Heero," he said finally. "Not
a bit. I found what I threw out on the junkpile and fixed it."
He truly believed this when he said it, so it wasn't really a lie. It was only later that he came to realize how wrong he
was.
"What was that?"
"My humanity," replied Duo. "How could you do it, Heero? How could you fight under the influence of an awful machine
like Zero, and still keep your soul?"
"I have no soul. At least, I never found it," Heero said, and his voice was bitter. "I think mine was removed so I could be
made into a perfect little tin soldier. Not that it ever happened."
~not removed, really~ thought Duo. ~not by a long shot, I don't think. Just tinkered around with, some, but. . . to be toyed
with by a machine. . .~ "That's. . . that's just awful," said he. He knew Heero's experience wasn't completely without
precedents, but he couldn't really fathom such loss. He figured he'd gotten off lucky.
"There's the only soul I ever knew," Heero continued, pointing at Wing Zero, "and it's evil."
"Like me," Duo's face frowned itself into lines more recently developed. "Sometimes I wonder why I still live, having
killed so many."
"Maybe your mission isn't over yet," said Heero. "Maybe you're not evil after all."
"You mean, maybe there's hope for me?" said Duo. He looked at his hands. "Nice of you to say that, Heero. I hope so. I
hope that when I die, I'll get into heaven. Maybe then I'll get to meet my parents." He gave a short, rueful laugh. "Maybe
I'll even get a clean pair of hands."
"What do you mean?"
Duo's face screwed up a little, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I used to imagine. . . in fact sometimes I still do. . . that
when I'm eating, I can taste the blood of the people I've killed. It just sorta rubs off my hands, and then everything I eat has
the taint of copper and smoke. It'd be nice to taste clean food again--" Here he gave a short, feverish laugh-- "even though
I know that taste is only in my imagination."
"There." Heero finished soldering the last wire into place. "It's done."
They picked up their tool kits and headed for the blast shelter. Both remained silent until they got to the small, squat, gray
building that occupied a corner of the scrapyard. There was no lock on the door. ~someday I'll have to remember to
install one~, thought Duo. They went inside and he flipped on the lights. A lone snake slithered off the shelter's only chair
and out through a hole in the metal wall. Duo would've given a lot to know how snakes had gotten into the colony to begin
with.
"Evangeline?" Heero queried, picking up the thin paperback book that was lying on the chair.
"Longfellow. It's a story about exiles," Duo said, by way of qualification. "I guess I must've identified with their situation,
somehow."
Heero opened the book to a page somewhere in the middle and began to read in monotone:
"In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry confrontation,
"Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician
"Entered with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the altar.
"Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence
"All that clamorous throng; and thus he spake to his people;
"Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and mournful
"Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock strikes.
" 'What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has seized you?
" 'Forty years of my life have I laboured among you, and taught you,
" 'Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another!
" 'Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations?
" 'Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness?
" 'This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it
" 'Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred?
" 'Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you!
" 'See! in those sorrowful eyes, what meekness and holy compassion!
" 'Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, "O Father, forgive them!"
" 'Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us,
" 'Let us repeat it now, and say, "O Father, forgive them!" '
"Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people
"Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded that passionate outbreak,
"And they repeated his prayer, and said, 'O Father, forgive them!' "
"Hn. . . interesting," said Heero when he'd finished the verse, thinking of Relena Peacecraft and her pacifist ways.
"That's from the part where the British soldiers are exiling the Acadians from Nova Scotia by order of the British King,"
said Duo reflectively. "I think Father Maxwell and Father Felician had a lot in common."
"I don't know if I could be that forgiving," said Heero.
Duo snorted self-deprecatingly. "Nor I."
He thought over the events of the past few days--the destruction of Libra, Heero's climactic victory over Zechs and his
destroying of the final fragment of Libra that threatened the Earth--and then Heero had come to him, asking if they could
use the scrapyard to finish off Zero and Deathscythe once and for all. Duo had recoiled at first and wouldn't allow it, but
then Heero had said something that changed his mind about the Gundams forever:
{{"There can be no true peace unless we drop our guard, Duo. It's the true first step."
{"That's crazy, Heero," Duo had objected vehemently. "It'd be suicide. We'd be like sitting ducks to our enemies."
{"We?" asked Heero, quirking an eyebrow.
{"Alright, then, _I_ would feel like a sitting duck. Would you really have us die for Relena's ideals?"
{"Would you feel better if I watched your back for you?" His voice was taunting, almost daring Duo to say yes.
{"You mean, so I can watch yours?" Duo hmphed disbelievingly. "How do you know I wouldn't try to finish you off
myself for some reason? We're _both_ trained killers, after all. Can trained attack dogs trust each other that much?"
{"It's called _real_ peace, Duo. Didn't you grow up as a Christian?"
{"_Sort_ of."
{"Well, then you know that even if it seems like suicide, real peace can't be provisional. You _know_ that." }}
And he did know it, just as he knew Heero was wrong about what he'd said just now in the shelter. He _could_ be that
forgiving. Duo believed it totally. He'd seen it first-hand, after all. Deep down inside, however, in a place he hardly even
knew existed, he didn't really know if he, himself, could forgive in the same way.
* * *
~I trust you, Heero~ thought Duo, standing ankle deep in wet sand on that long-forgotten beach, along that long-forgotten
shoreline, looking out over the horizon on a sweltering summer evening (for as you'll recall, that's where the first
chapter starts this part of the Gundam story). The wind increased in speed, whipping his braid back and forth. ~Always.~
Heero had somehow talked Duo into letting him do all the wiring on the Gundams himself. Apparently, he trusted only
himself to do the job properly. Duo pondered the enigma of Heero while they stood and listened to the sounds of all-
encompassing nature. He knew that Heero wasn't afraid for his own personal safety, and never had been. He could have
gone to any one of numerous sites to scrap his Gundam. Quatre alone must have owned a few _hundred_ places where he
could have done the job, for example. So, why had he come to the sweepers? Why was he still with him? Was it for Duo's
sake?
Duo thought he knew the real reason Heero was hanging around. Even though he didn't fear for his own personal safety,
he still wanted to keep a wary eye on the Deathscythe pilot.
TBC