Title: Familiar Stranger
Rating: PG
Warnings: Unbeta-ed, AU, ignore character death
Genre: General, angst
Main Character(s): Rey
Ship(s): None.
Summary: They finally meet face to face with each other. One shot.
Disclaimer: Kidou Senshi Gundam Seed, Kidou Senshi Gundam Seed Destiny, characters and places are copyright to Hajime Yate, Yoshiyuki Tomino, Sotsu Agency and Sunrise.
Author's Notes: Inspired by Nanashi's wonderful oneshot, Thief. GO AND READ IT NOW! I am taken by the idea that Talia could have, might have named her son after Rey, as Nanashi had written. This isn't the same as her story because 1) Rey is alive here and not dead and 2) He finally meet with Talia's son. I wrote this two weeks ago, left it on my computer because it was crappy, hated it, before I finally sat down and rewrote the entire thing again from scratch, ditching the first draftbut keeping the title, and here it is.
He walked down the well-trodden path, the shadows from the trees providing cool shades from the sun. Rows upon rows of off-white and grey marble gleamed in the sunlight, like polished jewels, letters carved in their surfaces, names of people who had moved on. Memories and testaments of their time here in this world, signs that they had been here once before.
He walked pass the marble headstones, blue eyes sweeping over each name, mouthing them silently, as if committing them to memory, when he was actually not. The thought of his name engraved on one of those marble pieces one day brought no change of expression on his stoic expression. He had moved forward. Thoughts like that didn't plague his dreams as much as it used to. Friends and almost family taught him that. When he arrived at the site – the final resting place for many of those who had been in service during the war or were a part of the war – he found someone else there before him.
A boy of twelve or so, kneeling before one particular headstone, head bowed seemingly in prayer. When he approached, the boy's head lifted up, a pair of blue eyes turned to him. There was no surprise or accusation on the boy's face; it was as blank as his own. He ignored the boy, proceeding to place the flowers by the headstone, under the gold letters of a familiar and well known name.
"My mother," said the boy, breaking the silence around them, "always longed for you, even after I was born. Her own flesh and blood, a substitution for the boy she never could have and wanted to have."
Rey said nothing. He noted the underlying bitterness along with the weary and satirical tone. It was the tone of someone who had seen too many dreadful things in life to name, someone who had what little happiness snatched away abruptly. Such a tone was not meant for someone as young as him and more appropriate for someone like Shinn or perhaps Athrun.
The tone suited him because he was also a child of war. One who had lost his mother to one man's greed, power and ambition. Who watched the news day by day, watching and listening for anything on his mother. A mother who had left him and his father at the first chance to return to the military without second thoughts. But she wasn't that kind of mother; she still thought about her son, still looked at the photo she had on her desk with a wistfulness and longing. She just had her priorities confused with the matters of heart.
"She chased after a dream that can never be," murmured Rey, eyes flicking downward to the boy then to the headstone before them.
"I never thought to actually meet you here, of all places," the boy continued. "I had so many things which I stored up in my head and heart to say to you when I finally meet you. But nothing seems to come to my mind now," he said. "Nothing."
The wind – artificial as it may be – was still cold to the feel as it breezed by them, rustling the grass and the leaves on the nearby trees. In the distance, Rey could see a family meandering by the rows of polished marbles, carrying flowers in their arms, the smallest child was clutching at a single white rose in her chubby hand. They were visiting one of the graves – perhaps a son or a brother who died in this war or the last war.
"It's unfair to think that you're here instead of her," the boy said, finally getting up, dusting ineffectually at the grass stains on his pants. "But life isn't always fair, is it? She always did loved that man more than my father, enough to even die with him." He gave a sharp bark of laughter, hollow and bitter.
"I'm sorry." He had no idea why he said it. To make amends? It seemed the right thing to say.
"Don't." The boy shook his head. "Don't apologize. I don't want to hear it. Pity isn't what I want. Least of all, yours. After all," he said, "I should be the one who's sorry for you. For starving for attention and love to steal it from someone else's mother." (1)
Rey showed no emotion at the words. He looked forward, at the family in the distance, hearing the boy's clothing rustle, a sign that he was moving. The boy's footsteps were soft on the ground but Rey heard them perfectly, and halfway, they paused.
"She named me after you," said the boy. "Ray. A reminder of the child she wanted and the one that she really loved."
The boy – Ray – then left.
Rey knelt down on the grass, unmindful of the stains to his dune-coloured khakis, lifting up a hand and placing it against the cool marble.
Talia Gladys. Beloved Wife and Mother.
"I didn't steal her," he said, softly. "She came to me first, and you're wrong. She did loved you. You were the last person on her mind before she died."
Owari.
Extra:
(1) This is a line from Nanashi's Thief, a wonderful story written by her on my favourite character, Rey. She writes the best GSD stories out there. Do go and read Thief and her other GSD fics, specially Biography of The Damned which is an excellent piece of work.