Blood-Part Two
"Sorry about that, Z," Talia apologized as she and Shawn guided Zechs back to the car, followed by Ciara and Trowa, "but Ciara gave me an idea. I hope I didn't hurt you too badly?" Zechs managed a weak grin and shook his head. Talia continued, relaxing, "Good. I'm glad to hear that. I pick up your baseball cap when we circled the wagons, so to speak."
"Yah," Shawn said quietly as they reached the car, "and we need t' come up wi' a plan of action. Our little ploy back there worked this time, but there's no guarantee it'll work a second time. We can discuss that at the house. Zechs, does Trowa Barton know what you look like?" Zechs bobbed his head, cringing at the pain that still throbbed in his side.
"Then why did he help us out?" Talia questioned, frowning. She gently eased Zechs into the car, glancing over her shoulder. Past her hip, Zechs could see Ciara approaching with the dark-haired gundam pilot. Talia continued, "Not that I'm complaining, of course, but I don't understand." Zechs didn't understand, either. Why would Trowa Barton try to protect him?
"Is everyone all right?" the gundam pilot asked as Ciara slipped from his side to stand with Talia. She nodded, and Trowa looked at Zechs, adding, "Not exactly the way I anticipated meeting you again, but things seldom turn out as you plan." Zechs shrugged wearily, then cringed. Talia put her hand on his shoulder, and Trowa continued, "We bought you some time, but I don't think they'll stay quiet for long. How much longer will you be here?"
"We'll be leavin' in a few days. We've done what we came t' do," Shawn replied. He paused, then asked, "Not that I'm not grateful, but why? Why didn't you blow his cover back there?" He asked the question which rattled around in Talia's mind for the last few minutes, and the young woman was slightly shaken to see the gundam pilot smiling faintly.
"You weren't able to completely destroy the Libra, Zechs, but you made the effort. You didn't continue the battle after Heero self- detonated, you rebuilt his gundam for the rematch. You were never our enemy. I understand what you were trying to do. And while you have much to atone for, you can't do that if you're dead. . .or if you're stuck in some prison. But that's only part of it," Trowa answered, addressing Zechs first.
He looked at the Malloy family and continued, "The other part is, you don't deserve what would happen to you, if people realized you brought Zechs Merquise back from the dead. Your life would never be the same, and whether you were praised as saints or reviled as devils for taking care of him, you would never have another moment of peace, as long as you lived. Enough people have been hurt. It should end here."
Talia looked at Shawn, who was staring at Trowa. Seeing a younger version of himself? God, she hoped not. Trowa was unnervingly. . .old. . .for a young boy of sixteen. She hated to think that anyone was that cool and composed as a teenager. She had only to think of Zechs, and she shuddered again. Shawn was right. They had to stop the insanity, so no more children lost pieces of themselves in the war. They had to make a stand the next time.
Trowa Barton smiled then, and said, "I should get back to my apartment. It was good to see you again, Zechs. Take care of yourself. And forgive yourself. You have to do that, before you can truly start to atone. Otherwise, you get lost in the self-loathing, and you never accomplish anything." From the corner of her eye, Talia saw Zechs bob his head numbly, and Trowa turned his attention to her.
Talia reached out her hand, to shake his, but Trowa did something unexpected. He took her hand. . .and raised it to his lips, gently kissing the back of her hand. Talia found herself blushing, and Trowa said, "If ever we are in battle, I hope we fight alongside each other." He bowed to her, nodded to Shawn, and ruffled Ciara's hair. Then he quietly walked away.
. .
.
"You should have told me he was still alive," a familiar voice said as Trowa re-entered his apartment. The young pilot turned to face his guest as the other boy emerged from the bathroom. Heero Yuy looked at him accusingly and repeated, "You should have told me Zechs was still alive, before I went down to earth." Trowa shrugged out of his jacket.
"I didn't know he was still alive. I just found out myself. You were at the arcade?" he asked. Heero nodded reluctantly, as Trowa sat down on the sofa. The pilot of Heavyarms continued, "Then you probably saw what happened after they left the arcade, Zechs and the girl." Heero's brows drew together, and Trowa explained, "They ran into the same bullies that Quatre and Duo told you about."
"The ones who attacked the girl when you first met her. So what happened?" Heero asked. Trowa motioned him to sit down, which he did, taking the chair opposite the sofa where Trowa now sat. Once Heero was seated, Trowa explained the confrontation with the bullies, as well as his intervention. He was unprepared for the black rage that flashed in Heero's eyes.
However, the other boy said calmly, "Well, whatever caused you to follow them, I'm grateful for it." Trowa nodded. So was he. He was grateful for Ciara's sake, and for Zechs.' And for the sake of the two adults. Shawn Malloy could have gotten himself killed. Heero said hesitantly, "I. . . While I was on earth, I went to the stone with Zechs' name on it. I. . .do you remember after I self-detonated? And you took me back to the circus to recover? Our conversation about following my emotions?"
Trowa bobbed his head, not even trying to push the bang from his eyes. Heero went on, "Part of living by emotions, about following my feelings. . .talking comes into that. Would you understand, Trowa, if I told you I was angry with Zechs for taking my place? Would you understand how I felt when he. . .when I thought he was dead?" Trowa nodded. Yes, he would.
Heero continued, shaking his head, "You know, I thought all along that he was my enemy, that I had to kill him. I was wrong. And I didn't realize how wrong I was until the end. I didn't even realize what I was doing, consciously realize what I was doing, until he stopped me from self- destructing. I think, somewhere deep inside. . .I was trying to save him, Trowa. I was trying to save him from himself."
Trowa nodded in understanding. Yes. He understood. God, how he understood. Heero rubbed his hands against his jeans and continued, "And then today, when I saw he was alive. . .injured, still healing. . .but alive. I'm not even sure how I felt, Trowa. I was angry with him, for letting everyone believe he was dead. I was relieved that he was alive. And I was angry with myself, for not believing he might have survived that explosion."
"After all the times you've tried to kill yourself," Trowa pointed out dryly, "it never occurred to you that he might have as many lives as you do?" Heero shook his head with a rueful smile, and Trowa continued, "I never had a. . .an opposite, the way you did. But I didn't step in just to save Zechs. I wanted to protect the family who has been taking care of him."
Heero nodded, murmuring, "Yes, you mentioned that. What are they like? Tell me about the people who rescued him." Trowa sat back, reflecting about what he should say. How exactly did he explain the impressions, the senses, he received from the Malloy family in such a short amount of time? The. . .yearning. . .he saw in Heero's eyes pushed him forward, even if the words made no sense.
. . .
The ride home was silent. Ciara sat in the backseat with Zechs, holding his hand. She was still trembling, but she wasn't afraid for herself. Despite the intervention of Trowa Barton, she had a terrible feeling this wasn't over yet. She squeezed her companion's hand again. He was so brave! And Ciara was so weak, not doing anything to help him.
At last, they reached their house and Ciara gently helped Zechs out of the backseat. Her mother said softly, "Kee-kee, take him to his room. I think he needs to lie down for a while." Ciara's head jerked up. . .Mom hadn't called her by her old nickname in years. It was her first clue that her mother was as shaken by the events of the last few hours as she was.
"Okay, Mom," she said in a tiny voice and led Zechs into his room, easing him onto the bed. He cringed, a spasm of pain contorting his face as she carefully pushed him back against the bed. Ciara winced as well, but unlaced his boots and placed them by his bed. She said softly, "I'm sorry, Zechs. I should have done more to help you."
"No, Ciara," Zechs answered wearily, "you did the right thing. You kept your head and played along with the charade. If anyone's at fault, it's me. I placed you and your family in danger. I know, your parents made the choice to rescue me. But I could have left you weeks ago, I'm strong enough to pilot a shuttle. I should have left and let you get on with your lives."
"Gone where? Done what? For the love of God, Zechs, you're still healin' from the explosion. You bloody well came close t' dyin' or had you forgotten that?" Ciara's father asked from the doorway. Ciara looked from her father to Zechs, who closed his eyes. He looked so tired. Ciara's father shook his head and said softly, "There will be no more talk of you leavin' while you're still hurt so badly, is that understood? You're still weak from your injuries."
Zechs nodded, his eyes closed, and Ciara's father left the room. Ciara shifted her weight to the chair beside Zechs' bed, and Zechs opened his eyes. He frowned and Ciara answered in a challenging voice, "I'm staying with you. Mom did it all the time on the shuttle, now it's my turn. And you can't talk me out of it!" Zechs just smiled faintly, then closed his eyes again. Ciara watched him for a few moments, then turned her eyes to the window. The sun was just starting to set.
It's so beautiful, she thought, so very beautiful. She was always so excited when she came to L2. It gave her a chance to see things that she never saw from outer space. And Ciara silently hoped that someday, maybe sooner than she expected, she would finally see Earth. She knew all three of her parents were born there. . .but what was it really like?
She turned to ask Zechs, but discovered him staring in silence at the setting sun. Unshed tears sparkled in his blue eyes, and he whispered something she didn't understand. It wasn't just that she couldn't hear him, but what little she did hear sounded like it was in a different language. The only language she knew was English, although her father taught her some Irish.
Instead of asking Zechs about Earth, she instead requested, "Zechs, can you teach me how to say things in other languages?" He looked at her, his attention drawn away from the sunset, and, evidently, whatever he was thinking. A smile crossed his face and he held out his hand to her. Grinning, Ciara took it. She didn't know what she would learn, but at least it would be something interesting!
. .
.
"He's sayin' he should have left us weeks ago. Is the boy out of his bloody mind? Where will he go? He says that he won't be selfish and return t' his sister and that young girl, what's her name, the one he kept callin' for in his sleep?" Shawn grumbled, entering the study, as Talia quietly filed the paperwork in a cabinet, along with their other important papers. Or rather, copies of their important papers, such as the deed to the ship and her official adoption of Ciara as her daughter. She pushed a lock of dark hair back from her eyes and turned to face him.
"Noin. Lucrezia Noin. And right now, he's scared, Shawn. You remember what it's like to be that scared. He's afraid that he's brought us to a bad place. Be patient with him," Talia answered softly. She could barely control her trembling. Zechs. Oh God. They came so close to losing everything they worked for during the last few months. Damn those brats!
She walked back into the kitchen and carefully removed the model kit from the shopping bag. She hastily put the bag in the very back seat, before Zechs or Ciara could see it, and question what it was. She just hoped that it wasn't damaged in the process. Talia breathed a sigh of relief. It was intact. Shawn sat down beside her, and said, "I'm tryin' t' be patient wi' him, lass. Really, I am."
"I remember after the Sank Kingdom fell. I would go home to Spain. No, I'm not Spanish. But my best friend was. And the manor where I grew up wasn't home any more. In the three weeks I was in the Sank Kingdom before the Alliance attacked, it became my home. That was taken from me. My family was taken from me. All I had left was Beatriz and her family. And I was so afraid that my presence would endanger them. Because I knew the truth about the Sank Kingdom," Talia replied.
"You were just a girl at the time, Talia," Shawn said softly. Talia nodded. Yes. Yes, she was just sixteen. And that made it even more frightening to her. She lost everything that ever mattered to her. Everything that defined Natasha Galinova. Perhaps, even in those early months with the Escalante family, Natalia Gaston was born. She didn't know.
"I know. I wasn't entirely sane at the time, you see. But like Zechs, I feared for the people who saved my life. It took me a long time to accept that they did so, of their own free will. That they made the choice, knowing full well that it might cost them their very lives. It did cost Don Escalante his life. Turning against the Romefellar Foundation. He was assassinated. I was only four years younger than Zechs is now, Shawn. We must be patient," Talia replied.
Shawn asked softly, "There's a lot more I don't know about you, isn't there? Why have you never told me? There's more to this than just your memories. I know they're painful. . .I lived through a war, and war nearly cost me m' soul. But it's different wi' you. It's. . .you didn't lose your soul, but you lost a part of yourself the day the Sank Kingdom fell."
"I can't talk about it, Shawn. It isn't that I don't want to, I just can't. All right, yes, I don't want to either. But there's more to it than that. Every time I get ready. . .every time I think I'm ready, I don't. . .my throat closes over. And I'm not even sure where to begin. There really is no beginning, unless you count Heero Yuy's assassination. The original Heero Yuy, I mean," Talia replied with a sigh. And really, she didn't know if she could start there, either.
"That was a long time ago," Shawn observed and Talia nodded, sighing once more. Yes. Nearly twenty-one years ago. She remembered hearing about it when she was a small girl. It was the first time she saw her father so angry. Father. Talia's blood ran cold, and she rubbed her palms over her forearms, trying to warm up. Did he still hate her? Talia shook herself. What if he did? What difference did it make? She made her own life here, among the stars.
The phone rang, startling them both, but it was Talia who reached for the phone. She answered in English, but her mind switched automatically to Russian as soon as she heard Olga's sobbing voice on the other end of the line. It was a duality she learned many years earlier, to cope with her divided identity. She listened in Russian, but spoke in English, telling her friend, "I'll be over in about an hour. Have faith, dear friend."
"What happened?" Shawn asked in concern as Talia hung up the phone. She sighed, turning back to face him, and he continued, "I know that was Olga. . .you don't call anyone else 'old friend.' What's wrong? And don't ask what makes me think anythin' is wrong, I know your facial expressions almost as well as I know Ciara's. What's happened?"
"Her daughter was hurt in a shuttle accident. Her granddaughter is staying with her while Katya is in the hospital, and Olga's shaken. Katya's her youngest, after all, her baby. She needs me. Will you, Zechs, and Ciara be all right? I'm not sure how long Olga. . .well, how long I'll be," Talia replied. Shawn flashed her a grin and Talia sighed, "That's what I thought. All right, just to be on the safe side, I'll kiss Ciara good night now, so I don't wake her when I get back."
Talia knew Olga. . .knew the odds were better than even that she wouldn't return home until dawn the following morning. Olga tended to bottle up her emotions during a crisis, especially if her grandchildren needed her. And then, once the children were safely asleep, or back in the arms of their parents, Olga fell apart. It wouldn't surprise Talia at all if Olga spent the night weeping.
Katya wasn't just her baby, she was her miracle baby. She wasn't supposed have survived her own birth, she wasn't supposed to have survived to see five, and she most certainly wasn't supposed to marry and have children. She beat all the odds. . .and now, the possibility that she did so, only to die in a shuttle accident at the age of twenty-four? No. . .no, that just didn't seem right. Not to Olga, and not to Talia, either.
"Be careful. . .I wasn't thinkin' real clearly earlier. I don't want you t' suffer for my stupidity," Shawn advised. Talia flashed him a grin of her own and put the model away for safekeeping, at least until she could wrap it properly. Then she went in search of her daughter and Zechs. She actually had a pretty good idea where Ciara was. . .five would get her ten, Ciara was still with Zechs.
. .
.
Evan didn't take humiliation well. He didn't take it well at all. He was humiliated once, by the gundam pilots. That was bad enough, since they were three years younger than he was. But then, that damn mick and the others came along, just when Evan finally had some leverage. No matter what the little brat's mother said, Evan knew Milliardo Peacecraft when he saw him.
He let the gundam pilot and the family think they won. At least for now. But he followed the family home, and watched in silence as the mother left the house. He briefly considered having some fun with her. . .it shouldn't be too hard, she wasn't that big. No real problem there. But after a moment, Evan shook his head. Nah, she wasn't that important. Milliardo Peacecraft, Zechs Merquise. . . Now he was important. Evan wondered how much Relena Peacecraft would pay him if he brought evidence of her brother's death to him.
He smiled again. He never believed the purity princess's claims of total pacifism. After all, only weaklings and fools believed there could ever be any kind of peace. Evan learned that the hard way. Once he was weak, like Relena Peacecraft. He was stronger now. And he would prove it by killing her brother. But not now. He was patient. He could wait.
. .
.
It was quiet in the house after Talia left. Shawn tried to read for the first few hours, but his focus wasn't on the book in his hands. With a sigh, he set the book aside and rose to his feet, pulling the shades. It was a protective gesture, a way of shutting out the world. It did no good, of course. But it gave the illusion of protection, and sometimes, that was all a person had.
Ciara went to her room shortly after Talia's departure. She was sleeping on her side, a tiny frown gracing her forehead. She looked like Elene in that moment, taking Shawn's breath away. Oh God, Elene. The Irishman blinked back tears, and awkwardly tucked the covers around his daughter. Elene. Talia. Ciara. Grania. He was still reeling from his nightmare. He had lost Elene and Grania. Could he bear to lose Ciara and Talia?
He kissed Ciara's forehead, then left her room. He went next to Zechs' room. The young man was sleeping. Not particularly peacefully. Dreaming of Khushrenada's death again, no doubt. Maybe of being discovered by the rest of the gundam pilots. Trowa Barton said he would keep the secret. For reasons which Shawn didn't fully understand, he trusted the boy.
But rationality rarely entered into dreams, much less nightmares. He came to care deeply for this boy over the last few months. He was the youngest out of his family. . .and perhaps, in addition to seeing a younger version of himself in Zechs Merquise, he also saw the boy as a little brother. Shawn gently pulled the quilt that his mother made up around Zechs' shoulders, and the young man whimpered in his sleep, whimpered another name. Relena.
Rage coiled in Shawn's gut when he heard the girl's name. He would never say so, but he hated that little brat. Hated her for her arrogance. He didn't know the story behind the original fall of the Sank Kingdom, but he considered her a traitor to those who fought and died during the second fall. She negated their sacrifices by giving in to Romefellar. Damn her. Damn her for her betrayal. . .and damn her for judging soldiers like himself.
Shawn snarled under his breath and Zechs murmured something. Guiltily, the older man straightened up. No, he would take this elsewhere. He didn't want to awaken Zechs. In the morning, he and Talia would plan out their next move. . .it was time for them to leave L2. He knew it was just a time before that brat returned, maybe with reinforcements.
And Shawn had other things on his mind. The Pax, and the small shuttles that they bought, with help from Zechs. Shawn was a soldier, not a gundam pilot. He didn't have a gundam at his disposal. But he did have the Pax. And his very soul was telling him that another war would come. There would always be predators. The key was making sure that there was some protection from predators.
Shawn heard, in the last few days, of a new organization that was being created on Earth. The Preventers, they were called. Created by the former Colonel Une of the Oz organization, the stated purpose was to prevent further wars from breaking out. Shawn liked that idea. And while he knew neither his wife, nor Zechs, was ready to return to Earth, Shawn decided that they would become unofficial members of the Preventers.
And maybe in time, once Talia was ready to deal with her past, they would return to Earth, and join the Preventers in fact. He smiled, returning to the living room. He picked up his book and locked the door. It was time for him to go to bed. They had a lot of work ahead of them. He turned out the lights, and headed for his own bedroom. Yes. . .a lot of work.
. . .
"Hn," Heero Yuy murmured as Trowa Barton finished his story. Accustomed to the other young man's noncommittal remarks, the pilot of 03 sat back and regarded his friend. After a few moments, Heero said, "Do you think they'll try again? I mean, the bullies. It sounds to me like they want a rematch. And they might have only bought the story about Zechs being Talia's younger brother because the odds shifted."
"I thought of that as well. You think they might go after Zechs again, now that they've seen his face?" Trowa asked and Heero nodded, his eyes narrowing. It was a strange twist of fate. . .that they were now seeking to protect a man who was once their enemy. Trowa thought back to his own argument with Lucrezia Noin in Antarctica, regarding the battle between the two pilots.
He still believed it was foolish. But he knew now that Heero was right to trust Zechs. The pilot of 01 said, "Yes, I do. Trowa, I'll hack into the records, find out where the Malloys live." Trowa nodded. He had ideas of his own about protecting the family. And Ciara. There was a curious tightness in his chest as he thought of the young girl. She was hardly more than a baby, not even thirteen years old yet. She was an innocent. Trowa wanted her to stay that way.
Too many children grew up too fast. The gundam pilots, the soldiers on both sides of the battle. Oz and the colonies, White Fang. Children who fought and died, whether in body or in soul. Trowa Barton swore to himself that Ciara would not suffer the same fate. She would grow up strong and whole, without her heart shattered by the need to kill, in order to survive, in order to protect those she loved. He looked at Heero and said, "Then let's get to work."
. . .
He waited outside the house, among the bushes. When he stopped to think about it, it was hysterically funny. Like one of those old movies he watched when he was a kid. Back before the Alliance stomped on his family. Back before his parents were killed, back. . .back before he got strong. Before he realized what life was really like.
Evan turned his attention back to the house. One by one, the lights in the house died out. He rose to his feet, smirking to himself. Yes, it was time to make his move. He knew every means of entering a house, both legally and illegally. Didn't make much of a difference to him. He broke into houses before, often to keep warm. The climate inside the colonies was supposed to remain stable. It didn't always work that way.
He thought that the Malloy house wouldn't provide him with much of a challenge. But it seemed they weren't as soft as he supposed, and were more paranoid than most of their more complacent neighbors. Still, Evan was patient and he managed to open the door with a minimal amount of noise.
He slipped inside the house, idly wondering why there seemed to be a light on the wood. Then he chuckled. It was just the moonlight filtering through the curtains. No big deal. Evan proceeded through the house. Originally, he wanted the little blonde bitch, the kid, for helping those Gundam goons make trouble for him and his boys.
But his focus changed. He would deal with Milliardo Peacecraft, and show his whining sister exactly what a strong ruler did. You killed the traitors, wiped out any form of resistance. And no matter how you looked at it, Peacecraft was a traitor. The way Evan figured it, he was doing both the earth and the colonies a favor. He grinned to himself, passing the little bitch's bedroom. Now, all he had to do was figure out how he was gonna kill the bastard.
. . .
"I have it," Heero murmured. Yes, here it was. Shawn and Natalia Malloy. It wasn't difficult for him at all, hacking into the L2 database. He noticed that Shawn Malloy's name was highlighted in blue, and he double clicked on the man's name. A new page of information came up, and Heero frowned. It was barely noticeable, except to someone who knew him.
"Shawn Malloy was a soldier when he was our age, Trowa. According to this, his older sister was murdered more than twenty years ago, when he was roughly the same age as his daughter. He joined up with the rebels as a result and spent the next several years fighting," Heero observed. Trowa left his own laptop to see the new information, and Heero continued, "He left Ireland fifteen years ago, and came to outer space with a young American girl named Elene Winthrop. Apparently, he married her here, for their daughter Ciara was born on L2."
He continued reading, and Trowa said, "Natalia Gaston came here in AC 183. Heero, that was the year AFTER the collapse of the Sank Kingdom. Let me see if I can find any information about her." Heero nodded and returned his attention to the page concerning Shawn Malloy. Elene Winthrop Malloy died more than ten years earlier, and shortly thereafter, Shawn Malloy married the teenaged Natalia Gaston, who was traveling with him and his wife. Heero took no notice of the time that elapsed between Elene's death and Shawn's remarriage. His daughter needed a mother. It was as simple as that.
Then something flashing at the bottom of the screen caught his attention. Frowning, Heero double-clicked on the icon. He said, "The Malloy house has been compromised. We have to go, Trowa." Trowa's head snapped up and he looked around. But he nodded, and shut down his own laptop. Heero made a mental note of the Malloy residence, where it was located, since the government of L2 kindly provided a set of directions. In case it was ever necessary to speak with the Malloys for some reason, of course.
Then he and Trowa left Trowa's apartment. As they headed downstairs together, Heero checked his gun. He found himself remembering his duel with Zechs aboard the Libra. "Why didn't you kill me?" "Relena would be sad." But that wasn't why he was doing this now. Something else, something other than Relena was pushing him forward. . .pushing him to protect his former enemy.
. .
.
Ciara was dreaming of her mother again. Not the woman who took care of her ever since she could remember, but the mother who gave birth to her. She saw pictures of her mother, a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and a brilliant smile. Ciara was extremely young when she died. . .so there was no way she could remember her. And yet. . .she dreamed of her. The dreams were never ones she could remember after she awoke. Which was truly ironic, since it was the dream that awoke her that night. Her mother told her to wake up, and she had. Ciara sat up in bed, blinking. Now that was silly.
Still, as she grew more awake, she also grew more aware that she desperately needed to use the toilet. The girl shuffled out of her bed, then headed to the bathroom. She quickly relieved her bladder of its distress, then washed her hands and flushed the toilet. As she dried her hands, she. . .felt something. Sometimes, in the still of the night, she could feel her father's footsteps. The slight cracking of the floor under his weight.
But this didn't feel like her father. Or her mother. Or Zechs. She knew it wasn't her. Well, maybe it was Zechs. She frowned and turned off the light. Just to be safe, she would check on him. She shuffled down the hall toward Zechs' room, passing her father's room as she did. Her father's room. Ciara had some friends in email, and they would refer to their parents' room. Ciara was rather astonished to find out that some parents actually shared a room. As she grew up, there was her mother's room and her father's.
She shook her head. One day, she would ask her mother about it. Her father got weird on her when she asked strange questions. Like he didn't know what to make of her. Mom never did that. If Ciara was a strange girl, then evidently, so had the woman who raised her. That provided her with some comfort to the preteen, who was starting to feel like she was on shaky ground as time progressed.
Zechs' door was open. That was strange. Ciara knew Zechs usually kept his door shut, because of his nightmares. She peered inside his room, and her breath caught in her throat. Zechs wasn't alone. At first, she thought it was her father, or maybe her mother returned home earlier than she anticipated. Until she saw the figure place something over where Zechs' face should have been. Her mother would never do that. . .nor would her father.
The pillow. . .yes, it was a pillow covering Zechs' face. Zechs couldn't breathe because of the pillow. This. . .this. . .person meant to kill Zechs. She had to stop him! Ciara started to run from the room, until she heard the figure behind her snarl, "Now, none of that, Merquise. . . you don't want the rest of the family to die, do you? Enough people have died because of you, though. . .what's two or three more?" Ciara froze in her tracks. He would kill Daddy. She couldn't let that happen. But she couldn't let him kill Zechs, either. Zechs.
Then the figure turned, ever so slightly, in the direction of the doorway. Where Ciara now stood, silhouetted against the light. The girl moved quickly to one side, then cursed her stupidity. In her haste to avoid discovery, she knocked over the lamp that rested on a table beside the door. The figure froze, and snarled, "Who's there?" Now the moonlight was streaming into the room, casting some light on the features of Zechs' attacker. Ciara's blood ran cold. The bully. The one who attacked her in the arcade, and who attacked them that morning.
Ciara backed away, but the bully grabbed her shoulder. He laughed softly, murmuring, "Oh, this is a happy surprise. The little bitch comes to the murderer's aid. Guess that means I'll have to kill you both. But him first." He pushed Ciara into the wall and strode back to the bed. Kill them both. Ciara couldn't let him kill Zechs. He picked up the pillow and pressed it over Zechs' face again. The struggles ceased. . .was he unconscious or dead?
No. Not after everything, it couldn't end like this. He would kill Zechs, then he would kill Ciara, and then he would kill Daddy. The girl couldn't let him do that. She had to stop him. But how? He was bigger and stronger. She had to find a way, though, she couldn't let Zechs down. She struggled to her feet, one bare foot touching something cold. And porcelain. Glass. The lamp.
Ciara picked up the porcelain lamp and approached the bully, then smashed it over his head. He wheeled around, enraged, and backhanded her. Ciara skidded backward, her small hand closing on. . .something. Something that cut deeply into her hand, but by now, she was focused only on staying alive. He came after her again, pinning her to the ground, his breath hot in her face.
She felt something against her thigh. Something hard. Like he had a rod in his pocket. She didn't know what it meant, and that unknown made her even more terrified. She kicked out at him, and he slapped her again. Ciara's cheek burned from the impact, but rather than frightening her, it served to make her angry. The threshold between fear and anger was crossed. There was no going back.
It was a battle of survival. From her position on the floor, Ciara could make out Zechs' form. . .he wasn't moving. She snarled with rage, kicking at her attacker yet again, and took savage pleasure in hearing his groan. He grabbed her long hair, pulling her head back, but Ciara refused to give up. She fought like a wild animal which had been caged for entirely too long. She kicked him wherever she could, barely feeling the blows to her face. It was as if Ciara no longer existed. Only this girl- animal who wanted to hurt something else. Someone else, someone who hurt her. . .who hurt someone she loved.
Ciara was now operating solely on instinct. She swung her fist at him, fighting desperately to stay alive. This. . .this. . .this bully would kill her. And once he killed her, he would kill Zechs, and then Daddy. Mom would be alone. Ciara's rage built and she screamed until her voice was raw. She struck her assailant repeatedly, taking grim pleasure in the strange noises of pain coming from him. Take that, and that, and that!
She hadn't realized that swinging her hand like that could make it all sweaty, but her skin was wet. She was so intent on her primal rage, she never felt the telltale tremors of the floor, the footsteps of another. Then the lights came on, and Ciara's world turned first white from the brilliant light. Then it was red. . .before turning dark, as her father cried out her name and enfolded her in his arms.
. . .
"Why did you boys come here?"
Heero Yuy looked up at the sound of the voice. For once, he wasn't wearing his customary tank top and spandex shorts, choosing instead to wear a jacket and jeans. He was glad now he had. The boy turned to face the speaker, a tall, dark-haired man in his mid-thirties, and replied, "We were hacking into the government records, when we discovered that your home was compromised."
"That didn't answer m' question," Shawn Malloy answered as he closed the door to his daughter's room behind him. He walked toward Heero, who looked away and back into the room where Zechs Merquise slept. The room into which he and Trowa Barton burst nearly two hours earlier. Heero smiled briefly to himself, thinking of Duo's reaction. He would have grumbled about going through the window, when they should have gone through the door.
It made sense to both of them to approach the house from the back, in order to surprise the intruder. Both boys was certain the intruder was the leader of the bullies. They were right. They saw the older boy as they peered into the house. Trowa softly swore when he saw the figure standing over. . .someone. Neither knew who it was. But it was obvious that whoever lay in the bed was in danger. Heero looked around, then backed away from the window. To a boy who should have died countless times, taking a running leap and crashing through a window was a rather small thing. He was a Gundam pilot, after all.
However, in the process of finding a distance where he could build up sufficient speed, a third factor entered into the equation. By the time Trowa and Heero crashed through the window, the leader of the gang was dead, his throat repeatedly slashed, and his killer lay unconscious in her father's arms. His killer was twelve year old Ciara Malloy, and she fainted.
Now, nearly three hours later, the little girl was washed and cleaned. Trowa was sitting with her. She was just a child, but Heero shook his head. There were no children. Not any more. She was the same age he was when he killed a little girl and a puppy. Heero's heart hurt for the girl. She was an innocent. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It wouldn't have ended like this, if he hadn't failed. Mission failed.
Part of it, at least. Zechs was still alive. He was asleep at the time of the attack, more than likely. Woken up briefly, only to lose consciousness when the pillow was placed over his face. There was one helluva struggle. Heero was a soldier, he could see what happened. The gang leader came to this house to kill Zechs, but Ciara interfered. . .and took his life instead.
"You didn't answer my question," Shawn Malloy repeated. Heero looked away from his former nemesis, and back at the older man, who said again, "Why did you come here t'night? Don't think I'm not grateful. . .I am, that you tried t' help. I just don't understand why. Trowa, I understand, since he helped m' daughter and Zechs this afternoon. But you. . ."
Relena would be sad. No, that wasn't the reason. Not the whole reason. Heero said softly, "The same reason as Trowa. Zechs wouldn't let me self-destruct. Wouldn't let me die. Time after time, he saved my life. He could have killed me, after I self-destructed. Instead, he told Trowa to get me to safety. When Oz found us at Antarctica, he fought them off by himself, allowing us all to get to safety. When I tried to self- destruct, to destroy the Libra, Zechs dealt with it himself." He looked up at the older man, trying desperately. . .to do what?
"Gratitude, then," Shawn Malloy stated, joining him in the doorway. Heero shook his head. No. Not gratitude. Shawn looked over Heero's shoulder at Zechs, and said softly, "He'll sleep for now. I have t' figure out what t' do about that window. What t' do about that." He was referred to the dead body currently lying in the bathroom of the Malloy house.
Heero looked at him and stated, "You won't tell your wife. Or Zechs." Shawn shook his head, still staring at Zechs, and Heero asked, "Why not?" Shawn didn't answer. Heero was raised and trained to be the Perfect Soldier. He wasn't supposed to feel emotion. He wasn't supposed to become human. That would limit his effectiveness. And yet. . .he had.
He felt things. And he could see emotions in the eyes of others. There was pain in Shawn Malloy's eyes. Pain. . .grief. . .guilt. Fury. The older man replied, "Because. . .because I've hidden, safe in space, for the last fifteen years, while children have fought m' battles for me. You. The other four Gundam pilots. Zechs. It's m' turn t' protect him. I'm through hidin,' through. . .bein' a coward. No more. I protect m' wife, and I protect Zechs."
"You can also protect Ciara," Trowa said, leaving the girl's room. Heero and Shawn both turned to him, and the pilot of zero three continued, "It won't be hard to convince her it was a bad dream. But we have to act quickly." Heero stared at his friend. What was Trowa saying? The other boy continued urgently, "Heero, we're warriors. . .we're soldiers. She's a child. An innocent. An innocent who was forced to kill, in order to survive. In order to protect others."
Now Heero understood. Shawn, however, did not. He asked, "What are you boys plannin' t' do?" Heero cast one last look into the room where Zechs slept. The remains of a broken lamp lay on the floor. A shard of that lamp was clutched in the girl's hand, even as she lay in her father's arms. It took little to figure out what happened. And while it was obviously justifiable, Heero suspected that the twelve year old would be crushed with guilt. He was a bully and a murderer. . .but he was also a human being.
"The memory will resurface in time," Heero warned his friend. Trowa nodded. They both had distant memories that were slowly being pushed to the surface. But especially Heero, once the Perfect Soldier. The Perfect Weapon. Heero continued, seeing that Trowa had already thought about this, "What do you suggest? What exactly did you have in mind?"
"The first thing we must do is get rid of the body. There are a number of man-made lakes around here. We weigh the body down. That will buy the Malloys some time. Shawn, you said you would be leaving in a few days? Going back into outer space?" Trowa asked and the older man nodded. Trowa continued, "Can you live with this? Never telling your wife?"
"My wife has secrets of her own. Secrets she doesn't feel ready t' discuss. Secrets she's held close for nearly fifteen years, since the Sank Kingdom was destroyed the first time. She was important t' the royal family, I can tell by the way she speaks of them. And somethin' terrible happened t' her on that day. Somethin' that she never even told Elene. If she is strong enough t' hold that secret, then I'm strong enough t' live wi' this secret," Shawn replied.
Heero gave a "Hn" in response. He looked at Zechs, now sleeping peacefully. Then he looked at the window and asked, "Do you have a spare window? If you want to convince your wife that nothing happened here tonight, we have to replace that window. And get the glass out of here." Shawn blinked, then nodded with a faint smile.
"Downstairs. I can get that, while you take care of. . .that," he replied, indicating the body in the bathroom. Heero nodded, and Shawn continued, looking concerned, "Are you sure about this? I mean, you aren't the ones responsible for his death. What if you're suspected when his body is recovered? And isn't it possible that if you knew our house was being attacked. . .?"
"We can hack into the L2 government computers when we're done here, and wipe out any trace of the compromise. As for your question about being suspected, that's true. . .but this guy was the leader of a gang who preyed upon the weak and the helpless. He would have made a lot of enemies. . .and thus, there will be many suspects. Assuming, of course, anyone is concerned about his death," Trowa replied. Heero couldn't argue with that.
Trowa paused, then added, "You asked if we were sure. I can't speak for Heero. But I'm absolutely certain. We gundam pilots. . .we chose to fight in order to protect. That's the source of our strength, as I once learned from a female warrior." Heero smiled, knowing that his friend meant Lucrezia Noin. Trowa added, "You are protecting your wife, Zechs, and Ciara. As are we. Yes, I'm sure. I just hope, when Ciara does remember, that she's strong enough to forgive herself for what she had to do tonight. Make sure she's strong enough."
Shawn nodded, still looking confused, but he replied, "I'll get the window from the basement. Thank God Talia insisted we keep a spare, in case the window was broken again." He moved out of the door way, then turned back to look at the two boys. He said softly, "In case you're not here when I get back with the window, I just wanted t' say. . .thank you."
With that said, he quietly slipped down stairs. Trowa turned and looked at Heero, saying, "We have a lot of work to do. Let's get started." Heero nodded in understanding as he turned away from the room of his former opponent, and headed for the bathroom. Mission, accepted.
"Sorry about that, Z," Talia apologized as she and Shawn guided Zechs back to the car, followed by Ciara and Trowa, "but Ciara gave me an idea. I hope I didn't hurt you too badly?" Zechs managed a weak grin and shook his head. Talia continued, relaxing, "Good. I'm glad to hear that. I pick up your baseball cap when we circled the wagons, so to speak."
"Yah," Shawn said quietly as they reached the car, "and we need t' come up wi' a plan of action. Our little ploy back there worked this time, but there's no guarantee it'll work a second time. We can discuss that at the house. Zechs, does Trowa Barton know what you look like?" Zechs bobbed his head, cringing at the pain that still throbbed in his side.
"Then why did he help us out?" Talia questioned, frowning. She gently eased Zechs into the car, glancing over her shoulder. Past her hip, Zechs could see Ciara approaching with the dark-haired gundam pilot. Talia continued, "Not that I'm complaining, of course, but I don't understand." Zechs didn't understand, either. Why would Trowa Barton try to protect him?
"Is everyone all right?" the gundam pilot asked as Ciara slipped from his side to stand with Talia. She nodded, and Trowa looked at Zechs, adding, "Not exactly the way I anticipated meeting you again, but things seldom turn out as you plan." Zechs shrugged wearily, then cringed. Talia put her hand on his shoulder, and Trowa continued, "We bought you some time, but I don't think they'll stay quiet for long. How much longer will you be here?"
"We'll be leavin' in a few days. We've done what we came t' do," Shawn replied. He paused, then asked, "Not that I'm not grateful, but why? Why didn't you blow his cover back there?" He asked the question which rattled around in Talia's mind for the last few minutes, and the young woman was slightly shaken to see the gundam pilot smiling faintly.
"You weren't able to completely destroy the Libra, Zechs, but you made the effort. You didn't continue the battle after Heero self- detonated, you rebuilt his gundam for the rematch. You were never our enemy. I understand what you were trying to do. And while you have much to atone for, you can't do that if you're dead. . .or if you're stuck in some prison. But that's only part of it," Trowa answered, addressing Zechs first.
He looked at the Malloy family and continued, "The other part is, you don't deserve what would happen to you, if people realized you brought Zechs Merquise back from the dead. Your life would never be the same, and whether you were praised as saints or reviled as devils for taking care of him, you would never have another moment of peace, as long as you lived. Enough people have been hurt. It should end here."
Talia looked at Shawn, who was staring at Trowa. Seeing a younger version of himself? God, she hoped not. Trowa was unnervingly. . .old. . .for a young boy of sixteen. She hated to think that anyone was that cool and composed as a teenager. She had only to think of Zechs, and she shuddered again. Shawn was right. They had to stop the insanity, so no more children lost pieces of themselves in the war. They had to make a stand the next time.
Trowa Barton smiled then, and said, "I should get back to my apartment. It was good to see you again, Zechs. Take care of yourself. And forgive yourself. You have to do that, before you can truly start to atone. Otherwise, you get lost in the self-loathing, and you never accomplish anything." From the corner of her eye, Talia saw Zechs bob his head numbly, and Trowa turned his attention to her.
Talia reached out her hand, to shake his, but Trowa did something unexpected. He took her hand. . .and raised it to his lips, gently kissing the back of her hand. Talia found herself blushing, and Trowa said, "If ever we are in battle, I hope we fight alongside each other." He bowed to her, nodded to Shawn, and ruffled Ciara's hair. Then he quietly walked away.
. .
.
"You should have told me he was still alive," a familiar voice said as Trowa re-entered his apartment. The young pilot turned to face his guest as the other boy emerged from the bathroom. Heero Yuy looked at him accusingly and repeated, "You should have told me Zechs was still alive, before I went down to earth." Trowa shrugged out of his jacket.
"I didn't know he was still alive. I just found out myself. You were at the arcade?" he asked. Heero nodded reluctantly, as Trowa sat down on the sofa. The pilot of Heavyarms continued, "Then you probably saw what happened after they left the arcade, Zechs and the girl." Heero's brows drew together, and Trowa explained, "They ran into the same bullies that Quatre and Duo told you about."
"The ones who attacked the girl when you first met her. So what happened?" Heero asked. Trowa motioned him to sit down, which he did, taking the chair opposite the sofa where Trowa now sat. Once Heero was seated, Trowa explained the confrontation with the bullies, as well as his intervention. He was unprepared for the black rage that flashed in Heero's eyes.
However, the other boy said calmly, "Well, whatever caused you to follow them, I'm grateful for it." Trowa nodded. So was he. He was grateful for Ciara's sake, and for Zechs.' And for the sake of the two adults. Shawn Malloy could have gotten himself killed. Heero said hesitantly, "I. . . While I was on earth, I went to the stone with Zechs' name on it. I. . .do you remember after I self-detonated? And you took me back to the circus to recover? Our conversation about following my emotions?"
Trowa bobbed his head, not even trying to push the bang from his eyes. Heero went on, "Part of living by emotions, about following my feelings. . .talking comes into that. Would you understand, Trowa, if I told you I was angry with Zechs for taking my place? Would you understand how I felt when he. . .when I thought he was dead?" Trowa nodded. Yes, he would.
Heero continued, shaking his head, "You know, I thought all along that he was my enemy, that I had to kill him. I was wrong. And I didn't realize how wrong I was until the end. I didn't even realize what I was doing, consciously realize what I was doing, until he stopped me from self- destructing. I think, somewhere deep inside. . .I was trying to save him, Trowa. I was trying to save him from himself."
Trowa nodded in understanding. Yes. He understood. God, how he understood. Heero rubbed his hands against his jeans and continued, "And then today, when I saw he was alive. . .injured, still healing. . .but alive. I'm not even sure how I felt, Trowa. I was angry with him, for letting everyone believe he was dead. I was relieved that he was alive. And I was angry with myself, for not believing he might have survived that explosion."
"After all the times you've tried to kill yourself," Trowa pointed out dryly, "it never occurred to you that he might have as many lives as you do?" Heero shook his head with a rueful smile, and Trowa continued, "I never had a. . .an opposite, the way you did. But I didn't step in just to save Zechs. I wanted to protect the family who has been taking care of him."
Heero nodded, murmuring, "Yes, you mentioned that. What are they like? Tell me about the people who rescued him." Trowa sat back, reflecting about what he should say. How exactly did he explain the impressions, the senses, he received from the Malloy family in such a short amount of time? The. . .yearning. . .he saw in Heero's eyes pushed him forward, even if the words made no sense.
. . .
The ride home was silent. Ciara sat in the backseat with Zechs, holding his hand. She was still trembling, but she wasn't afraid for herself. Despite the intervention of Trowa Barton, she had a terrible feeling this wasn't over yet. She squeezed her companion's hand again. He was so brave! And Ciara was so weak, not doing anything to help him.
At last, they reached their house and Ciara gently helped Zechs out of the backseat. Her mother said softly, "Kee-kee, take him to his room. I think he needs to lie down for a while." Ciara's head jerked up. . .Mom hadn't called her by her old nickname in years. It was her first clue that her mother was as shaken by the events of the last few hours as she was.
"Okay, Mom," she said in a tiny voice and led Zechs into his room, easing him onto the bed. He cringed, a spasm of pain contorting his face as she carefully pushed him back against the bed. Ciara winced as well, but unlaced his boots and placed them by his bed. She said softly, "I'm sorry, Zechs. I should have done more to help you."
"No, Ciara," Zechs answered wearily, "you did the right thing. You kept your head and played along with the charade. If anyone's at fault, it's me. I placed you and your family in danger. I know, your parents made the choice to rescue me. But I could have left you weeks ago, I'm strong enough to pilot a shuttle. I should have left and let you get on with your lives."
"Gone where? Done what? For the love of God, Zechs, you're still healin' from the explosion. You bloody well came close t' dyin' or had you forgotten that?" Ciara's father asked from the doorway. Ciara looked from her father to Zechs, who closed his eyes. He looked so tired. Ciara's father shook his head and said softly, "There will be no more talk of you leavin' while you're still hurt so badly, is that understood? You're still weak from your injuries."
Zechs nodded, his eyes closed, and Ciara's father left the room. Ciara shifted her weight to the chair beside Zechs' bed, and Zechs opened his eyes. He frowned and Ciara answered in a challenging voice, "I'm staying with you. Mom did it all the time on the shuttle, now it's my turn. And you can't talk me out of it!" Zechs just smiled faintly, then closed his eyes again. Ciara watched him for a few moments, then turned her eyes to the window. The sun was just starting to set.
It's so beautiful, she thought, so very beautiful. She was always so excited when she came to L2. It gave her a chance to see things that she never saw from outer space. And Ciara silently hoped that someday, maybe sooner than she expected, she would finally see Earth. She knew all three of her parents were born there. . .but what was it really like?
She turned to ask Zechs, but discovered him staring in silence at the setting sun. Unshed tears sparkled in his blue eyes, and he whispered something she didn't understand. It wasn't just that she couldn't hear him, but what little she did hear sounded like it was in a different language. The only language she knew was English, although her father taught her some Irish.
Instead of asking Zechs about Earth, she instead requested, "Zechs, can you teach me how to say things in other languages?" He looked at her, his attention drawn away from the sunset, and, evidently, whatever he was thinking. A smile crossed his face and he held out his hand to her. Grinning, Ciara took it. She didn't know what she would learn, but at least it would be something interesting!
. .
.
"He's sayin' he should have left us weeks ago. Is the boy out of his bloody mind? Where will he go? He says that he won't be selfish and return t' his sister and that young girl, what's her name, the one he kept callin' for in his sleep?" Shawn grumbled, entering the study, as Talia quietly filed the paperwork in a cabinet, along with their other important papers. Or rather, copies of their important papers, such as the deed to the ship and her official adoption of Ciara as her daughter. She pushed a lock of dark hair back from her eyes and turned to face him.
"Noin. Lucrezia Noin. And right now, he's scared, Shawn. You remember what it's like to be that scared. He's afraid that he's brought us to a bad place. Be patient with him," Talia answered softly. She could barely control her trembling. Zechs. Oh God. They came so close to losing everything they worked for during the last few months. Damn those brats!
She walked back into the kitchen and carefully removed the model kit from the shopping bag. She hastily put the bag in the very back seat, before Zechs or Ciara could see it, and question what it was. She just hoped that it wasn't damaged in the process. Talia breathed a sigh of relief. It was intact. Shawn sat down beside her, and said, "I'm tryin' t' be patient wi' him, lass. Really, I am."
"I remember after the Sank Kingdom fell. I would go home to Spain. No, I'm not Spanish. But my best friend was. And the manor where I grew up wasn't home any more. In the three weeks I was in the Sank Kingdom before the Alliance attacked, it became my home. That was taken from me. My family was taken from me. All I had left was Beatriz and her family. And I was so afraid that my presence would endanger them. Because I knew the truth about the Sank Kingdom," Talia replied.
"You were just a girl at the time, Talia," Shawn said softly. Talia nodded. Yes. Yes, she was just sixteen. And that made it even more frightening to her. She lost everything that ever mattered to her. Everything that defined Natasha Galinova. Perhaps, even in those early months with the Escalante family, Natalia Gaston was born. She didn't know.
"I know. I wasn't entirely sane at the time, you see. But like Zechs, I feared for the people who saved my life. It took me a long time to accept that they did so, of their own free will. That they made the choice, knowing full well that it might cost them their very lives. It did cost Don Escalante his life. Turning against the Romefellar Foundation. He was assassinated. I was only four years younger than Zechs is now, Shawn. We must be patient," Talia replied.
Shawn asked softly, "There's a lot more I don't know about you, isn't there? Why have you never told me? There's more to this than just your memories. I know they're painful. . .I lived through a war, and war nearly cost me m' soul. But it's different wi' you. It's. . .you didn't lose your soul, but you lost a part of yourself the day the Sank Kingdom fell."
"I can't talk about it, Shawn. It isn't that I don't want to, I just can't. All right, yes, I don't want to either. But there's more to it than that. Every time I get ready. . .every time I think I'm ready, I don't. . .my throat closes over. And I'm not even sure where to begin. There really is no beginning, unless you count Heero Yuy's assassination. The original Heero Yuy, I mean," Talia replied with a sigh. And really, she didn't know if she could start there, either.
"That was a long time ago," Shawn observed and Talia nodded, sighing once more. Yes. Nearly twenty-one years ago. She remembered hearing about it when she was a small girl. It was the first time she saw her father so angry. Father. Talia's blood ran cold, and she rubbed her palms over her forearms, trying to warm up. Did he still hate her? Talia shook herself. What if he did? What difference did it make? She made her own life here, among the stars.
The phone rang, startling them both, but it was Talia who reached for the phone. She answered in English, but her mind switched automatically to Russian as soon as she heard Olga's sobbing voice on the other end of the line. It was a duality she learned many years earlier, to cope with her divided identity. She listened in Russian, but spoke in English, telling her friend, "I'll be over in about an hour. Have faith, dear friend."
"What happened?" Shawn asked in concern as Talia hung up the phone. She sighed, turning back to face him, and he continued, "I know that was Olga. . .you don't call anyone else 'old friend.' What's wrong? And don't ask what makes me think anythin' is wrong, I know your facial expressions almost as well as I know Ciara's. What's happened?"
"Her daughter was hurt in a shuttle accident. Her granddaughter is staying with her while Katya is in the hospital, and Olga's shaken. Katya's her youngest, after all, her baby. She needs me. Will you, Zechs, and Ciara be all right? I'm not sure how long Olga. . .well, how long I'll be," Talia replied. Shawn flashed her a grin and Talia sighed, "That's what I thought. All right, just to be on the safe side, I'll kiss Ciara good night now, so I don't wake her when I get back."
Talia knew Olga. . .knew the odds were better than even that she wouldn't return home until dawn the following morning. Olga tended to bottle up her emotions during a crisis, especially if her grandchildren needed her. And then, once the children were safely asleep, or back in the arms of their parents, Olga fell apart. It wouldn't surprise Talia at all if Olga spent the night weeping.
Katya wasn't just her baby, she was her miracle baby. She wasn't supposed have survived her own birth, she wasn't supposed to have survived to see five, and she most certainly wasn't supposed to marry and have children. She beat all the odds. . .and now, the possibility that she did so, only to die in a shuttle accident at the age of twenty-four? No. . .no, that just didn't seem right. Not to Olga, and not to Talia, either.
"Be careful. . .I wasn't thinkin' real clearly earlier. I don't want you t' suffer for my stupidity," Shawn advised. Talia flashed him a grin of her own and put the model away for safekeeping, at least until she could wrap it properly. Then she went in search of her daughter and Zechs. She actually had a pretty good idea where Ciara was. . .five would get her ten, Ciara was still with Zechs.
. .
.
Evan didn't take humiliation well. He didn't take it well at all. He was humiliated once, by the gundam pilots. That was bad enough, since they were three years younger than he was. But then, that damn mick and the others came along, just when Evan finally had some leverage. No matter what the little brat's mother said, Evan knew Milliardo Peacecraft when he saw him.
He let the gundam pilot and the family think they won. At least for now. But he followed the family home, and watched in silence as the mother left the house. He briefly considered having some fun with her. . .it shouldn't be too hard, she wasn't that big. No real problem there. But after a moment, Evan shook his head. Nah, she wasn't that important. Milliardo Peacecraft, Zechs Merquise. . . Now he was important. Evan wondered how much Relena Peacecraft would pay him if he brought evidence of her brother's death to him.
He smiled again. He never believed the purity princess's claims of total pacifism. After all, only weaklings and fools believed there could ever be any kind of peace. Evan learned that the hard way. Once he was weak, like Relena Peacecraft. He was stronger now. And he would prove it by killing her brother. But not now. He was patient. He could wait.
. .
.
It was quiet in the house after Talia left. Shawn tried to read for the first few hours, but his focus wasn't on the book in his hands. With a sigh, he set the book aside and rose to his feet, pulling the shades. It was a protective gesture, a way of shutting out the world. It did no good, of course. But it gave the illusion of protection, and sometimes, that was all a person had.
Ciara went to her room shortly after Talia's departure. She was sleeping on her side, a tiny frown gracing her forehead. She looked like Elene in that moment, taking Shawn's breath away. Oh God, Elene. The Irishman blinked back tears, and awkwardly tucked the covers around his daughter. Elene. Talia. Ciara. Grania. He was still reeling from his nightmare. He had lost Elene and Grania. Could he bear to lose Ciara and Talia?
He kissed Ciara's forehead, then left her room. He went next to Zechs' room. The young man was sleeping. Not particularly peacefully. Dreaming of Khushrenada's death again, no doubt. Maybe of being discovered by the rest of the gundam pilots. Trowa Barton said he would keep the secret. For reasons which Shawn didn't fully understand, he trusted the boy.
But rationality rarely entered into dreams, much less nightmares. He came to care deeply for this boy over the last few months. He was the youngest out of his family. . .and perhaps, in addition to seeing a younger version of himself in Zechs Merquise, he also saw the boy as a little brother. Shawn gently pulled the quilt that his mother made up around Zechs' shoulders, and the young man whimpered in his sleep, whimpered another name. Relena.
Rage coiled in Shawn's gut when he heard the girl's name. He would never say so, but he hated that little brat. Hated her for her arrogance. He didn't know the story behind the original fall of the Sank Kingdom, but he considered her a traitor to those who fought and died during the second fall. She negated their sacrifices by giving in to Romefellar. Damn her. Damn her for her betrayal. . .and damn her for judging soldiers like himself.
Shawn snarled under his breath and Zechs murmured something. Guiltily, the older man straightened up. No, he would take this elsewhere. He didn't want to awaken Zechs. In the morning, he and Talia would plan out their next move. . .it was time for them to leave L2. He knew it was just a time before that brat returned, maybe with reinforcements.
And Shawn had other things on his mind. The Pax, and the small shuttles that they bought, with help from Zechs. Shawn was a soldier, not a gundam pilot. He didn't have a gundam at his disposal. But he did have the Pax. And his very soul was telling him that another war would come. There would always be predators. The key was making sure that there was some protection from predators.
Shawn heard, in the last few days, of a new organization that was being created on Earth. The Preventers, they were called. Created by the former Colonel Une of the Oz organization, the stated purpose was to prevent further wars from breaking out. Shawn liked that idea. And while he knew neither his wife, nor Zechs, was ready to return to Earth, Shawn decided that they would become unofficial members of the Preventers.
And maybe in time, once Talia was ready to deal with her past, they would return to Earth, and join the Preventers in fact. He smiled, returning to the living room. He picked up his book and locked the door. It was time for him to go to bed. They had a lot of work ahead of them. He turned out the lights, and headed for his own bedroom. Yes. . .a lot of work.
. . .
"Hn," Heero Yuy murmured as Trowa Barton finished his story. Accustomed to the other young man's noncommittal remarks, the pilot of 03 sat back and regarded his friend. After a few moments, Heero said, "Do you think they'll try again? I mean, the bullies. It sounds to me like they want a rematch. And they might have only bought the story about Zechs being Talia's younger brother because the odds shifted."
"I thought of that as well. You think they might go after Zechs again, now that they've seen his face?" Trowa asked and Heero nodded, his eyes narrowing. It was a strange twist of fate. . .that they were now seeking to protect a man who was once their enemy. Trowa thought back to his own argument with Lucrezia Noin in Antarctica, regarding the battle between the two pilots.
He still believed it was foolish. But he knew now that Heero was right to trust Zechs. The pilot of 01 said, "Yes, I do. Trowa, I'll hack into the records, find out where the Malloys live." Trowa nodded. He had ideas of his own about protecting the family. And Ciara. There was a curious tightness in his chest as he thought of the young girl. She was hardly more than a baby, not even thirteen years old yet. She was an innocent. Trowa wanted her to stay that way.
Too many children grew up too fast. The gundam pilots, the soldiers on both sides of the battle. Oz and the colonies, White Fang. Children who fought and died, whether in body or in soul. Trowa Barton swore to himself that Ciara would not suffer the same fate. She would grow up strong and whole, without her heart shattered by the need to kill, in order to survive, in order to protect those she loved. He looked at Heero and said, "Then let's get to work."
. . .
He waited outside the house, among the bushes. When he stopped to think about it, it was hysterically funny. Like one of those old movies he watched when he was a kid. Back before the Alliance stomped on his family. Back before his parents were killed, back. . .back before he got strong. Before he realized what life was really like.
Evan turned his attention back to the house. One by one, the lights in the house died out. He rose to his feet, smirking to himself. Yes, it was time to make his move. He knew every means of entering a house, both legally and illegally. Didn't make much of a difference to him. He broke into houses before, often to keep warm. The climate inside the colonies was supposed to remain stable. It didn't always work that way.
He thought that the Malloy house wouldn't provide him with much of a challenge. But it seemed they weren't as soft as he supposed, and were more paranoid than most of their more complacent neighbors. Still, Evan was patient and he managed to open the door with a minimal amount of noise.
He slipped inside the house, idly wondering why there seemed to be a light on the wood. Then he chuckled. It was just the moonlight filtering through the curtains. No big deal. Evan proceeded through the house. Originally, he wanted the little blonde bitch, the kid, for helping those Gundam goons make trouble for him and his boys.
But his focus changed. He would deal with Milliardo Peacecraft, and show his whining sister exactly what a strong ruler did. You killed the traitors, wiped out any form of resistance. And no matter how you looked at it, Peacecraft was a traitor. The way Evan figured it, he was doing both the earth and the colonies a favor. He grinned to himself, passing the little bitch's bedroom. Now, all he had to do was figure out how he was gonna kill the bastard.
. . .
"I have it," Heero murmured. Yes, here it was. Shawn and Natalia Malloy. It wasn't difficult for him at all, hacking into the L2 database. He noticed that Shawn Malloy's name was highlighted in blue, and he double clicked on the man's name. A new page of information came up, and Heero frowned. It was barely noticeable, except to someone who knew him.
"Shawn Malloy was a soldier when he was our age, Trowa. According to this, his older sister was murdered more than twenty years ago, when he was roughly the same age as his daughter. He joined up with the rebels as a result and spent the next several years fighting," Heero observed. Trowa left his own laptop to see the new information, and Heero continued, "He left Ireland fifteen years ago, and came to outer space with a young American girl named Elene Winthrop. Apparently, he married her here, for their daughter Ciara was born on L2."
He continued reading, and Trowa said, "Natalia Gaston came here in AC 183. Heero, that was the year AFTER the collapse of the Sank Kingdom. Let me see if I can find any information about her." Heero nodded and returned his attention to the page concerning Shawn Malloy. Elene Winthrop Malloy died more than ten years earlier, and shortly thereafter, Shawn Malloy married the teenaged Natalia Gaston, who was traveling with him and his wife. Heero took no notice of the time that elapsed between Elene's death and Shawn's remarriage. His daughter needed a mother. It was as simple as that.
Then something flashing at the bottom of the screen caught his attention. Frowning, Heero double-clicked on the icon. He said, "The Malloy house has been compromised. We have to go, Trowa." Trowa's head snapped up and he looked around. But he nodded, and shut down his own laptop. Heero made a mental note of the Malloy residence, where it was located, since the government of L2 kindly provided a set of directions. In case it was ever necessary to speak with the Malloys for some reason, of course.
Then he and Trowa left Trowa's apartment. As they headed downstairs together, Heero checked his gun. He found himself remembering his duel with Zechs aboard the Libra. "Why didn't you kill me?" "Relena would be sad." But that wasn't why he was doing this now. Something else, something other than Relena was pushing him forward. . .pushing him to protect his former enemy.
. .
.
Ciara was dreaming of her mother again. Not the woman who took care of her ever since she could remember, but the mother who gave birth to her. She saw pictures of her mother, a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and a brilliant smile. Ciara was extremely young when she died. . .so there was no way she could remember her. And yet. . .she dreamed of her. The dreams were never ones she could remember after she awoke. Which was truly ironic, since it was the dream that awoke her that night. Her mother told her to wake up, and she had. Ciara sat up in bed, blinking. Now that was silly.
Still, as she grew more awake, she also grew more aware that she desperately needed to use the toilet. The girl shuffled out of her bed, then headed to the bathroom. She quickly relieved her bladder of its distress, then washed her hands and flushed the toilet. As she dried her hands, she. . .felt something. Sometimes, in the still of the night, she could feel her father's footsteps. The slight cracking of the floor under his weight.
But this didn't feel like her father. Or her mother. Or Zechs. She knew it wasn't her. Well, maybe it was Zechs. She frowned and turned off the light. Just to be safe, she would check on him. She shuffled down the hall toward Zechs' room, passing her father's room as she did. Her father's room. Ciara had some friends in email, and they would refer to their parents' room. Ciara was rather astonished to find out that some parents actually shared a room. As she grew up, there was her mother's room and her father's.
She shook her head. One day, she would ask her mother about it. Her father got weird on her when she asked strange questions. Like he didn't know what to make of her. Mom never did that. If Ciara was a strange girl, then evidently, so had the woman who raised her. That provided her with some comfort to the preteen, who was starting to feel like she was on shaky ground as time progressed.
Zechs' door was open. That was strange. Ciara knew Zechs usually kept his door shut, because of his nightmares. She peered inside his room, and her breath caught in her throat. Zechs wasn't alone. At first, she thought it was her father, or maybe her mother returned home earlier than she anticipated. Until she saw the figure place something over where Zechs' face should have been. Her mother would never do that. . .nor would her father.
The pillow. . .yes, it was a pillow covering Zechs' face. Zechs couldn't breathe because of the pillow. This. . .this. . .person meant to kill Zechs. She had to stop him! Ciara started to run from the room, until she heard the figure behind her snarl, "Now, none of that, Merquise. . . you don't want the rest of the family to die, do you? Enough people have died because of you, though. . .what's two or three more?" Ciara froze in her tracks. He would kill Daddy. She couldn't let that happen. But she couldn't let him kill Zechs, either. Zechs.
Then the figure turned, ever so slightly, in the direction of the doorway. Where Ciara now stood, silhouetted against the light. The girl moved quickly to one side, then cursed her stupidity. In her haste to avoid discovery, she knocked over the lamp that rested on a table beside the door. The figure froze, and snarled, "Who's there?" Now the moonlight was streaming into the room, casting some light on the features of Zechs' attacker. Ciara's blood ran cold. The bully. The one who attacked her in the arcade, and who attacked them that morning.
Ciara backed away, but the bully grabbed her shoulder. He laughed softly, murmuring, "Oh, this is a happy surprise. The little bitch comes to the murderer's aid. Guess that means I'll have to kill you both. But him first." He pushed Ciara into the wall and strode back to the bed. Kill them both. Ciara couldn't let him kill Zechs. He picked up the pillow and pressed it over Zechs' face again. The struggles ceased. . .was he unconscious or dead?
No. Not after everything, it couldn't end like this. He would kill Zechs, then he would kill Ciara, and then he would kill Daddy. The girl couldn't let him do that. She had to stop him. But how? He was bigger and stronger. She had to find a way, though, she couldn't let Zechs down. She struggled to her feet, one bare foot touching something cold. And porcelain. Glass. The lamp.
Ciara picked up the porcelain lamp and approached the bully, then smashed it over his head. He wheeled around, enraged, and backhanded her. Ciara skidded backward, her small hand closing on. . .something. Something that cut deeply into her hand, but by now, she was focused only on staying alive. He came after her again, pinning her to the ground, his breath hot in her face.
She felt something against her thigh. Something hard. Like he had a rod in his pocket. She didn't know what it meant, and that unknown made her even more terrified. She kicked out at him, and he slapped her again. Ciara's cheek burned from the impact, but rather than frightening her, it served to make her angry. The threshold between fear and anger was crossed. There was no going back.
It was a battle of survival. From her position on the floor, Ciara could make out Zechs' form. . .he wasn't moving. She snarled with rage, kicking at her attacker yet again, and took savage pleasure in hearing his groan. He grabbed her long hair, pulling her head back, but Ciara refused to give up. She fought like a wild animal which had been caged for entirely too long. She kicked him wherever she could, barely feeling the blows to her face. It was as if Ciara no longer existed. Only this girl- animal who wanted to hurt something else. Someone else, someone who hurt her. . .who hurt someone she loved.
Ciara was now operating solely on instinct. She swung her fist at him, fighting desperately to stay alive. This. . .this. . .this bully would kill her. And once he killed her, he would kill Zechs, and then Daddy. Mom would be alone. Ciara's rage built and she screamed until her voice was raw. She struck her assailant repeatedly, taking grim pleasure in the strange noises of pain coming from him. Take that, and that, and that!
She hadn't realized that swinging her hand like that could make it all sweaty, but her skin was wet. She was so intent on her primal rage, she never felt the telltale tremors of the floor, the footsteps of another. Then the lights came on, and Ciara's world turned first white from the brilliant light. Then it was red. . .before turning dark, as her father cried out her name and enfolded her in his arms.
. . .
"Why did you boys come here?"
Heero Yuy looked up at the sound of the voice. For once, he wasn't wearing his customary tank top and spandex shorts, choosing instead to wear a jacket and jeans. He was glad now he had. The boy turned to face the speaker, a tall, dark-haired man in his mid-thirties, and replied, "We were hacking into the government records, when we discovered that your home was compromised."
"That didn't answer m' question," Shawn Malloy answered as he closed the door to his daughter's room behind him. He walked toward Heero, who looked away and back into the room where Zechs Merquise slept. The room into which he and Trowa Barton burst nearly two hours earlier. Heero smiled briefly to himself, thinking of Duo's reaction. He would have grumbled about going through the window, when they should have gone through the door.
It made sense to both of them to approach the house from the back, in order to surprise the intruder. Both boys was certain the intruder was the leader of the bullies. They were right. They saw the older boy as they peered into the house. Trowa softly swore when he saw the figure standing over. . .someone. Neither knew who it was. But it was obvious that whoever lay in the bed was in danger. Heero looked around, then backed away from the window. To a boy who should have died countless times, taking a running leap and crashing through a window was a rather small thing. He was a Gundam pilot, after all.
However, in the process of finding a distance where he could build up sufficient speed, a third factor entered into the equation. By the time Trowa and Heero crashed through the window, the leader of the gang was dead, his throat repeatedly slashed, and his killer lay unconscious in her father's arms. His killer was twelve year old Ciara Malloy, and she fainted.
Now, nearly three hours later, the little girl was washed and cleaned. Trowa was sitting with her. She was just a child, but Heero shook his head. There were no children. Not any more. She was the same age he was when he killed a little girl and a puppy. Heero's heart hurt for the girl. She was an innocent. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It wouldn't have ended like this, if he hadn't failed. Mission failed.
Part of it, at least. Zechs was still alive. He was asleep at the time of the attack, more than likely. Woken up briefly, only to lose consciousness when the pillow was placed over his face. There was one helluva struggle. Heero was a soldier, he could see what happened. The gang leader came to this house to kill Zechs, but Ciara interfered. . .and took his life instead.
"You didn't answer my question," Shawn Malloy repeated. Heero looked away from his former nemesis, and back at the older man, who said again, "Why did you come here t'night? Don't think I'm not grateful. . .I am, that you tried t' help. I just don't understand why. Trowa, I understand, since he helped m' daughter and Zechs this afternoon. But you. . ."
Relena would be sad. No, that wasn't the reason. Not the whole reason. Heero said softly, "The same reason as Trowa. Zechs wouldn't let me self-destruct. Wouldn't let me die. Time after time, he saved my life. He could have killed me, after I self-destructed. Instead, he told Trowa to get me to safety. When Oz found us at Antarctica, he fought them off by himself, allowing us all to get to safety. When I tried to self- destruct, to destroy the Libra, Zechs dealt with it himself." He looked up at the older man, trying desperately. . .to do what?
"Gratitude, then," Shawn Malloy stated, joining him in the doorway. Heero shook his head. No. Not gratitude. Shawn looked over Heero's shoulder at Zechs, and said softly, "He'll sleep for now. I have t' figure out what t' do about that window. What t' do about that." He was referred to the dead body currently lying in the bathroom of the Malloy house.
Heero looked at him and stated, "You won't tell your wife. Or Zechs." Shawn shook his head, still staring at Zechs, and Heero asked, "Why not?" Shawn didn't answer. Heero was raised and trained to be the Perfect Soldier. He wasn't supposed to feel emotion. He wasn't supposed to become human. That would limit his effectiveness. And yet. . .he had.
He felt things. And he could see emotions in the eyes of others. There was pain in Shawn Malloy's eyes. Pain. . .grief. . .guilt. Fury. The older man replied, "Because. . .because I've hidden, safe in space, for the last fifteen years, while children have fought m' battles for me. You. The other four Gundam pilots. Zechs. It's m' turn t' protect him. I'm through hidin,' through. . .bein' a coward. No more. I protect m' wife, and I protect Zechs."
"You can also protect Ciara," Trowa said, leaving the girl's room. Heero and Shawn both turned to him, and the pilot of zero three continued, "It won't be hard to convince her it was a bad dream. But we have to act quickly." Heero stared at his friend. What was Trowa saying? The other boy continued urgently, "Heero, we're warriors. . .we're soldiers. She's a child. An innocent. An innocent who was forced to kill, in order to survive. In order to protect others."
Now Heero understood. Shawn, however, did not. He asked, "What are you boys plannin' t' do?" Heero cast one last look into the room where Zechs slept. The remains of a broken lamp lay on the floor. A shard of that lamp was clutched in the girl's hand, even as she lay in her father's arms. It took little to figure out what happened. And while it was obviously justifiable, Heero suspected that the twelve year old would be crushed with guilt. He was a bully and a murderer. . .but he was also a human being.
"The memory will resurface in time," Heero warned his friend. Trowa nodded. They both had distant memories that were slowly being pushed to the surface. But especially Heero, once the Perfect Soldier. The Perfect Weapon. Heero continued, seeing that Trowa had already thought about this, "What do you suggest? What exactly did you have in mind?"
"The first thing we must do is get rid of the body. There are a number of man-made lakes around here. We weigh the body down. That will buy the Malloys some time. Shawn, you said you would be leaving in a few days? Going back into outer space?" Trowa asked and the older man nodded. Trowa continued, "Can you live with this? Never telling your wife?"
"My wife has secrets of her own. Secrets she doesn't feel ready t' discuss. Secrets she's held close for nearly fifteen years, since the Sank Kingdom was destroyed the first time. She was important t' the royal family, I can tell by the way she speaks of them. And somethin' terrible happened t' her on that day. Somethin' that she never even told Elene. If she is strong enough t' hold that secret, then I'm strong enough t' live wi' this secret," Shawn replied.
Heero gave a "Hn" in response. He looked at Zechs, now sleeping peacefully. Then he looked at the window and asked, "Do you have a spare window? If you want to convince your wife that nothing happened here tonight, we have to replace that window. And get the glass out of here." Shawn blinked, then nodded with a faint smile.
"Downstairs. I can get that, while you take care of. . .that," he replied, indicating the body in the bathroom. Heero nodded, and Shawn continued, looking concerned, "Are you sure about this? I mean, you aren't the ones responsible for his death. What if you're suspected when his body is recovered? And isn't it possible that if you knew our house was being attacked. . .?"
"We can hack into the L2 government computers when we're done here, and wipe out any trace of the compromise. As for your question about being suspected, that's true. . .but this guy was the leader of a gang who preyed upon the weak and the helpless. He would have made a lot of enemies. . .and thus, there will be many suspects. Assuming, of course, anyone is concerned about his death," Trowa replied. Heero couldn't argue with that.
Trowa paused, then added, "You asked if we were sure. I can't speak for Heero. But I'm absolutely certain. We gundam pilots. . .we chose to fight in order to protect. That's the source of our strength, as I once learned from a female warrior." Heero smiled, knowing that his friend meant Lucrezia Noin. Trowa added, "You are protecting your wife, Zechs, and Ciara. As are we. Yes, I'm sure. I just hope, when Ciara does remember, that she's strong enough to forgive herself for what she had to do tonight. Make sure she's strong enough."
Shawn nodded, still looking confused, but he replied, "I'll get the window from the basement. Thank God Talia insisted we keep a spare, in case the window was broken again." He moved out of the door way, then turned back to look at the two boys. He said softly, "In case you're not here when I get back with the window, I just wanted t' say. . .thank you."
With that said, he quietly slipped down stairs. Trowa turned and looked at Heero, saying, "We have a lot of work to do. Let's get started." Heero nodded in understanding as he turned away from the room of his former opponent, and headed for the bathroom. Mission, accepted.