Author's Notes:
Just a couple reminders for ease of reading:
… indicates thoughts
~~~~~~ indicates change in scene/location
****** indicates change in perspective (POV) – these tend to overlap
Translations for foreign words/phrases are in brackets immediately following. If there are any questions or if I have left anything out, please feel free to ask me and I will explain at the beginning of the next update. Once again, if I have misused or mistranslated any of these phrases, I apologize and please let me know.
Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of the characters or anything else from GW... but, everything else is mine!
Best Friends : )
PART ONE
Chapter 3: Spinning out of Control
Northwestern Europe
Zechs started suddenly, feeling a little pang in his breast, and was almost knocked over with the force of the thrust of Pagan's foil sliding past his own. He shook his head unconsciously. What was going on? What was this feeling in his heart? Papa, Mama? Rena?
"Young Master? Is something the matter?" Pagan received no response, only a blank stare in return. "Master Zechs, is something the matter?"
Zechs continued to stare blankly past Pagan. He couldn't see anything, hear anything, feel anything beyond the terrible conviction that something was horribly wrong. He was only five; he had never been so long alone without either of his parents or his baby sister, and this was the most frightening sensation he had ever felt. All at once, the only thing he wanted was for his parents and his baby sister to be here with him. Please come back… you promised, Papa. You promised! With this thought, he curled up on himself, falling to the hard, polished floor and shaking with the force of violent, soundless sobbing. Though he couldn't say as much, couldn't even define to himself what was happening, he felt as if his world was falling apart, and he didn't know why.
"Master Zechs? Zechs? Zechs!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somewhere Outside The Vrede, Central Europe
When he finally heard it, his first thought was that his agitation and jittery nerves were finally getting to him, but after a second more the sound became unmistakable. He realized what it must be even as he craned his neck further to see where it was coming from. When he spotted the distant shadows, still only smudges on the horizon, but quickly closing in on them, he gave a shout. Yet, even as he shouted, Fabian Noin knew that it was too late. His warning had rung out amidst numerous others, but it was too late. Too horribly late! In the space of a few terrible seconds that seemed both too long and too short, they all heard the familiar hideous whine of a dropped bomb screeching its descent. Fabian didn't think that the people inside had heard the shouted warning in time, if they had heard it at all… and he wouldn't be surprised if they had missed the whine of the bomb as well. Even if they had heard it, being civilians, most likely they wouldn't even recognize it for the danger that it was. Those people were counting on the soldiers out here to defend them – they thought that they were safe. They were wrong. We were wrong. Despair threatened to set in, sinking ever lower in his belly… failed them… He believed in the people in that building, that they held the hope for a peaceful future. He made his decision in an instant, taking off at a dead run for The Vrede's wide double-doors. I'm sorry Lucy – I meant to come back for always, but I'm doing this for you too. Perdono a me (Forgive me)!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somewhere off the Coast of the Mediterranean
She froze, her heart pounding in a rapid staccato beat with an intensity and suddenness that were frightening.
"Lucy?" a stout white-haired woman called, coming out of the kitchen. Catching sight of the odd look on the face of her temporary ward, the girl she loved as her own granddaughter, the old woman's face creased in a concerned frown. "Lucy… whatever is the matter, dear heart?"
The little raven-haired girl didn't seem to hear her, and it wasn't until a moment later when the aging woman reached out her hand to touch the girl's shoulder that she came to herself with a sudden start.
"Lucy. Is something wrong?"
"Oh, Bianca!" the little girl whirled around, burying herself in the woman's body and clutching the folds of the floral patterned dress she wore. "Something's wrong with Papa!" She began to sob uncontrollably.
"Shh…child… there's nothing wrong with your Papa…" the old woman soothed, stroking the little girl's head as she held her close to herself, wondering if she was lying even as she sought to comfort the precious child in her arms. With the way the political atmosphere had been of late…
"But something's going to happen… something bad is going to happen…. I know it!" And then she was beyond speech and beyond comfort. Her only remaining thought was that something awful was going to happen to her beloved papa – she was certain of it and believed it with all the stubborn defiance of a child.
Still stroking the girl's sleek black hair, Bianca couldn't help but worry herself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Vrede, Central Europe
Elisandra was thrown sideways when the first explosion hit. The impact sent her flying and she landed badly on her left ankle. In the aftermath, her mind continued to reel, but she wasn't given much time before the second explosion hit some distance away, shocking her back into awareness. Lifting one hand to her head, she looked around for the family. Panic began to set in when she couldn't find them, couldn't see the baby. Everywhere, people were moaning and screaming, pushing and shoving aimlessly in their mad frenzy to escape. The hall was a jumble of confusion and Elisandra weakly pushed herself to her feet, lurching painfully forward a step before her ankle gave way beneath her. Gathering what strength she had left in her, she forced herself to rise up again, fighting and pushing her way through the mad throng for what seemed ages, and heading in the direction where she thought she had last seen the family. The smoke had long since choked her, clogging her lungs so that she could barely breathe, it hurt so much, and her sense of hearing had been numbed beyond what she would have thought possible.
At last she pushed past the outer edge of the swirling masses of people, reaching the opposite wall, and saw them all at once. All three of them were collapsed upon the marble floor, with the fire raging ever closer and ever more uncontrollably, painting everything a lurid orange hue. Elisandra rushed forward, desperately praying that the child would be alright, that she wouldn't be too late. Just as she reached forward to scoop the girl up into her arms, a third explosion blasted her into the wall, cracking her head against the smooth, hard marble. Falling like a sack of stones, she could feel consciousness slipping away from her, blackness closing in, and she made one last despairing plea, railing against the fate they had been wrought, "No!"
********
The Vrede, Central Europe
He saw at once that the entrance had been blown in on itself by the explosion, collapsed and warped beyond use. Veering, he headed for the enormous hole that had been blown, by a second explosion, into a section of wall a little ways down from the entrance. He was vaguely aware of the gunfire all around him as he ran, and a part of him realized that enemy foot troops must have arrived to engage their own defensive troops, but his overriding need was to get the people inside The Vrede to safety.
After what seemed an eternity, Fabian reached the northern wall and scrambled, slipping and sliding, over the debris.
He halted just inside the building. People were rushing everywhere. Chaos reigned as panicked shouts and screams rang through the air amidst the roar of spreading flames, and the steady staccato of gunfire beat out a rhythmic cadence in a macabre/sickening counterpoint. All of it together combined into a massive, maelstrom of deafening sound, echoing in the enormous acoustic domed roof that was, amazingly enough, still intact.
Cursing himself for his moment's hesitation and the time wasted, Fabian set about organizing what remained of the security troops inside the building. Their commanding officer had been killed in the explosion along with most of the unit. He made their goal clear: they were to round up as many of the civilians as possible and head for the bomb shelter. Their mission was to save these people at all costs. Issuing orders, he sent a pair of sturdy-looking soldiers to find the entrance leading to The Vrede's underground bomb shelter and to assess any damage done. That done, he worked with the remaining soldiers to try and calm the people. They had to work quickly – there were too many lives at stake.
Minutes later, more troops from outside had come to help – Fabian didn't know whether to be alarmed or relieved. They needed the help, but they also needed gunners outside. He pushed the worries from his mind, glad to give up the weight of command responsibility to another officer sent inside precisely for the purpose of handling the chaotic situation. Turning, he caught sight of a small group of people sprawled against the outer curve of the inner wall. Noting the spreading puddle of blood seeping from beneath the prone bodies, his first thought was that they were dead and he was too late. Too late! Too late, again, Genevieve… he grieved silently, mourning the innocent people here and his dead love all over again. But then, as he turned to go, he thought he saw one of the bodies move, and with hope bounding painfully in his aching heart, Fabian worked his way over to investigate.
********
The Vrede, Central Europe
She awoke slowly, feeling as if she was swimming, pushing her way in slow motion through a thick, viscous liquid… drowning in the heaviness, the airlessness. Elisandra drifted down slowly, sinking ever further. It occurred to her that she ought to be worried. In fact, she felt as though she ought to be panicking, because she couldn't seem to find her way through no matter how hard she pushed or how far she swam, and now she was… sinking. Yet, for some odd reason, she found that she couldn't seem to work up the energy for it – she was too… relaxed, unperturbed. This thought brought realization and with that came a wave of genuine panic, so intense that she came to full consciousness on a desperate gasp of air.
Where am I? Why is it so dark? her mind filled with very real panic, uncontrollable now that it had been unleashed. It felt like a passing of ages before she could calm herself to a somewhat reasonable state of mind. When she had, she realized that her eyes were closed – and she anxiously hoped that that was the only reason for the darkness. Slowly, Elisandra slid her eyes open… and was blinded with the glaring brightness. Dark spots danced everywhere in her vision, swirling, swirling, swirling... She fought the intense urge to shut her eyes against the pain and dizziness, knowing instinctively that there was something that she was supposed to have done, something that she was supposed to be doing. She couldn't seem to make any sense out of what she was seeing… only a dizzying design of light and dark, and no sound at all, as if she was locked in a soundless maze with no way out. At that thought, the fear resurged, and she struggled against the rising panic, wrestling it as if it were some kind of mad beast.
As her vision and hearing finally cleared, it took a moment for the sights and sounds to form into recognizable patterns. And as they did, she jerked her head abruptly in sudden, swift realization, The baby! The pain coursed through her, and she would have cried out had she been able to find her voice. Still, the thought of the beautiful baby girl prodded her, and frantically, Elisandra tried to push herself upright, but found her arms had somehow turned to jelly. Suddenly, there was something holding her, binding her, and she twisted every which way, attempting to wrestle free, but whatever it was, she was held tight and weakened as she was, she soon tired. Lying subdued at last, at length, Elisandra made sense of the noise in her ear. Comprehension dawned and she turned into the arms of the man who was holding her and speaking kindly so as not to frighten her more. He was a soldier, his uniform tattered and his face caked with soot and other things she couldn't – wouldn't – name, but he was a welcome sight… one of their own.
********
The Vrede, Central Europe
He came to a halt, kneeling before the prone body. A woman – she made as if to sit up, collapsing heavily. Instantly his arms were about her, trying to relax her so that she wouldn't hurt herself. From the looks of it, she'd been caught by at least one of the explosions. Her hair was extremely singed, giving off a bitter stench similar to that of burnt flesh and leaving its natural colour indeterminate. As for whether it had originally been that short… well. At least she didn't seem to be too badly hurt physically. However, she didn't seem to know where she was or who he was, for she struggled against him, until at last she gave up, unable to keep up the effort in her weakened state. He cradled her carefully but firmly, trying to sooth her with soft sounds, muttering the most comforting phrases he could think of. "Shh… you're safe. I'm a friend. I'm here to help you," and other similar twaddle that he doubted she was lucid enough to understand, spilled from Fabian's lips.
Eventually though, she seemed to regain her bearings. Recognizing him as friend and not foe, she turned into his arms, burying her head in his shoulder. He continued to speak in a soothing voice, but the message was much more urgent, "Alright. Listen to me… we have to get you out of here. Do you understand me? It's too dangerous for you to stay here and we're going to have to get you down to the bomb shelter." He paused, waiting for a response. All he got was a mewling sound. He tried again, speaking more carefully, "We have to go. I need you to stand. Do you understand me?" She mewed again, but this time, he thought that she might be trying to speak, and so leaned his head further down, trying to catch her words.
"Baby… the baby…"
A baby? Startled, he whirled about, eyes scanning the area rapidly, and, seeing a small figure half-buried beneath one of the bodies slumped nearby, he cursed himself, How could I have the missed the baby?! Fabian turned back to the woman, "I need you to stay still… I've found the baby, but I need to check on it. To do that, I'll need you to stay right here. Okay? Can you do that for me?" When she nodded her head shakily, he carefully released her, wary of dropping her in his haste. Getting to his feet, he dashed the few steps over to the baby, who was shielded within the arms of the woman lying eerily still over it. He turned the woman over as gently as he could and reached for the baby… a girl. A sudden groan and shift of movement to his right startled Fabian out of his reverie.
********
The Vrede, Central Europe
Stefan came awake to an intense pain burning its way through his body. There was no room in his mind for groggy thoughts or a slow adjustment, only pain such as he had never felt before. Push past it… he forced himself, trying to force himself to move. After what seemed an eternity, one eye slowly opened, then the other. Taking a deep breath, Stefan braced himself mentally before attempting to do the same with his hands. He collapsed, arms buckling as twin trails of liquid fire raced shooting through his palms, and let out a heartfelt groan. He grimaced. Was that his voice? That ragged and breathless sound, hardly above a whisper? Giving a mental shake of his head, he got his mind back on track. Where were Ilyse and Relena? Bracing himself, Stefan lifted his head to look around.
The acrid smoke burned into his eyes along with the bright glare of intense flames all around. For an instant, he couldn't see anything but the orange glow of fire, a vivid living nightmare filling his vision and his mind so completely that in that split second, there was nothing else, simply bright, flickering horror. And then it passed, and the moment was gone, his vision clearing and his mind re-orienting itself. But reality was not much better than the nightmarish creations of his imagination: Reality was his wife and daughter sprawled deathly still, only a few feet from his own position. Reality was the sounds everywhere of the wounded as they lay dying in pools of their own blood and the scramble of the desperate as they searched for an escape. And reality was their failure to stop the outbreak of war, as evidenced by the roar of engines as fighter jets passed overhead and the whine of the bombs dropped as they did so, underscored with deadly explosions and the repetitive ratt tatt tatt of artillery firing. Stefan cringed inside, fading a little. Is there no hope at all? he wondered. Yet, despite everything, Stefan couldn't help the tiny hope that continued to flutter inside of him, refusing to be extinguished, and so he clung to it with all the strength remaining to him… the strength of a desperate man at the end of his line.
That hope seemed to be justified when he focused upon the presence of a man in soldier's uniform who crouched, half-turned to face Stefan, beside Ilyse's fallen and still body. The man, who Stefan guessed he must be one of the Hoan soldiers from the colours of the tattered uniform, seemed startled to see him, and despite, or perhaps, in spite of everything, another wry smile twisted the diplomat's lips, So now I know what death warmed over feels like, and he knows what it looks like. Just then, he saw Ilyse's hand twitch slightly, and it pulled him out of his sick humour. Could it be?
"Ilyse?" he whispered, the tiny ember of hope flaring to new life in his aching breast.
Hai, hai… I'm back
and it hasn't taken me months this time!
But yes, another cliffhanger – I find these really fun (as both a reader
& a writer), but completely understand your frustration and will work hard
to get the next chapter out as soon as I can.
The good news is that presently, I am somehow in a good writing
mood. However, as I have explained in my
profile, I am unhappy with much of what I have written, and much revamping
is required. Of course, it helps that I am no longer so
busy that I don't even have the time to think about this story, much less write
anything of it!
Looking forward to seeing you guys again soon and a great big thanks to all who have reviewed! But rest assured Highwaywoman, that although I love reviews and they are inspiring, I will not stop writing just because I don't "get very many of them." This is already the most reviews I've ever gotten, so I'm ecstatic and every new one is a nice bonus.
Faradayne : )
P.S. If you're interested, vrede means "peace" in Dutch, and hoan means "peace preservation" in Japanese.