Hey everyone! This chapter is kinda different to the last one. But tell me what ya think anyway. And I know, I'm not moving foreward very fast with the plot. I'm just getting started and getting the characters settled in. Hope y'all understand. I'll move foreward next chapter, promise!

Helpless?

Walking up this time was diiferent. Less light, more of a headache and much less comfortable position. He groaned softly and tried to sit up. A wave of panic swept over him when neither of his feet or arms responded. Shit! What's wrong with me? Why can't I move? What the hell happened? God, what the hell happened?

Breathing heavily, he tried to move again, and registered the ropes. His heart slowed down some as he realised that he'd just been tied up. Then it sped up again as the problems of this made their way into his mind. It made him completely vunrable. An easy target for racist crewmembers. Swallowing, he willed himself to stay breathing. Losing control at this point was not a good idea. So, assess the situation. This is just another training mission and if I lose it now then Yzak and Dearka are never gonna let me hear the end of it.

His left arm gave off a jolt of pain when moved. So that was the injuired one. No other damage appeared to have been done. His right hand was currently tied to his side as they couldn't tie his hands together and his feet were tied to each other. He still couldn't move and he couldn't see a way out. Neither hand was moveable and he wasn't going to get far crawling because of the injuiry. And no-one was coming to get him as they all thought him MIA. So, he was at the mercy of the EA.

A feeling of utter helplessness engulfed him. He was stuck here. And his father...his father! Well...was he proud? Did his father think his death a honorable one? Was he finally good enough? Or was the man just pissed off that he'd had to destroy the Aegis as well as himself? That thought struck him hard. So often now, his father had seemed so distant, and so disappointed. Did resorting to such extreme measures just disappoint his father more? Did his father even care?

Slowly, he shimmied up the wall into a sitting position and brought his knees under his chin. His arm jolted all the while, but settled to a dull ache once he'd stop moving. Resting his head against the wall, he closed his eyes and struggled to hold back tears.

Rau stared at the blank screen. He'd just finished contacting Zala about his son's death and the destruction of both the Aegis and Strike. The man had looked stunned, and tried to hide it. But it had been impossible to miss him glancing at a photograph on his desk. One obviously of his family. This blow had hit the man hard. Losing both a wife and a son to the war. Well, what way was the council going to go now? With a grief striken man at its head, would the order remain?

But back to the lose of Athrun. Yes, that was a setback. But at least Yamato had gone too. But he'd needed Athrun. The boy had been useful. So easy to manipulate. Oh well, Yzak and Dearka would have to do. And the two were so angry and upset, bending them should be easy. Now, time to tell them about there order to return to space. He smirked. Oh Athrun, you don't know how lucky you were to die now. Fare well, my boy.

Athrun opened his eyes at the sound of the door opening. A young EA soldier stepped inside. Her blue eyes travelled the room, eventually coming to rest on him. They instantly sparkled with tears. He shrugged and shut his eyes again, although something told him that wasn't a good idea. But he was helpless in a fight situation anyway, so what did it matter?

Metal clinked somewhere beside him and footsteps started walking towards him. He opened his eyes again, just a fraction. It proved to be enough, as a second later he jerked his head back to avoid the knife, cracking his skull on the wall. A dull ache errupted at the back of his head, making him dizzy. Blinking stupidly, he gazed at her as she attempted another attack. Using his good shoulder, he pushed away from the wall and rolled off the bed. Now that definitly wasn't a good idea! he mentaly bereated himself.

Pain burned it's way down his arm in addition to the throb at the back of his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the pain away. More footsteps sounded, way too loudly for his sore head. Feeling sick, he opened his eyes and glanced up at the other occupants of the room. A blaring row was going on between them. The girl was screaming about Kira and someone else being dead. And about how she knew that the "scumbag on the floor" had killed them.

Realisation hit him. These were the people that Kira had to protect. These were the pathitic naturals that Kira had chosen over his people. The people that he chose over me. Rage like he'd never known flooded him. He suddenly stopped caring that he was injuried, tied up and on their ship. Suddenly, all he cared about was screaming at these people and giving them a piece of his mind.

'If I deserve to die for killing your friend...then didn't he deserve to die for killing mine?' he found himself asking. The girl made another attempt to lunge at him, the boy grapped her before she got a step. Tears spilled down her face.'So they deserved to die? Is that it? They deserved to die?' she shrieked.

'Yes!' he yelled back. 'They desereved it! Kira had no right to join this war! He had no right to kill Nicol on Miguel and assist in Rusty's death! And that skygrasper pilot had no right to get in my way. They were both idiots! Kira had no right to betray his people and fight against them in a war he knew nothing about! And you...you know nothing about losing people!' he could feel his composure starting to fray, and hysterics was starting to set in. 'You have no right to judge me! I did what I did because right now there is a mother crying up at the PLANTs because her fifteen year old son was killed! All he ever wanted to do was protect his family and people after you and your race decided to blow over four hundred thousand of us straight to hell for no reason! None of you have any right to decide my fate because all of your hands are as equally stained with blood! And your hands are stained with the blood of civilians! You took my mother! And you helped take Nicol! If anyone deserves to die here, it's not me, it's you!'

He stopped at the metalic click of a cocked gun. The other girl in the room, the redhead, had found a gun and was pointing it at him. He froze in shock, and rolled over to face the barrel of the gun. It was small, but it would do damage. But she couldn't aim the damn thing, that was sure. She couldn't kill him, but he didn't want any more injuries.

He sighed and shut his eyes, preparing for the bang that never came. Instead another voice entered the mix. A much older male voice. The thudding voices didn't help with his growing headache. The voices didn't stop, and he squeezed his eyes tighter shut. His arm was still burning with pain.

Suddenly, someone snatched his good arm and pulled him unsteadly to his feet. He pulled his eyes open. A blod man was standing next to him. Another man slit the ropes around his ankles, allowing him to walk. The man pushed him out the door, past the three teens. The looked stunned and worried. He shrugged and let himself be lead away.

Walking felt good. Just being able to move properly felt good. It helped him feel free. Like he was still with his friends. A memory flashed across his mind. When Dearka had grabbed his arm and forced him to follow. Yzak had been bribed into coming as well, and the silver haired youth had been in a particulary foul mood because of it. Of course, Dearka hadn't anticipated them needing to run like hell. The dog wasn't meant to have been that foul tempered. He swallowed his laugh.

That seemed so long ago though. When the ability to be carefree had still existed. Now he was in a really bad position and laughing was not a good idea.

He was pulled into a side room. Two women were standing at the far wall, one a brunette, the other raven haired and both around mid-twenties. The blond officer didn't loosen his grip on his arm. The grip was almost painful.

'State your name and rank,' the brunette asked. He had a vague memory of someone asking him that before, but the memory was hazy. Everything was becoming hazy. His head really hurt right now, as was his arm. He answered the question.

'Ensign Athrun Zala,' he muttered. The women jotted it down. And then she said a list of names he didn't pay attention to. He was zoning out. The words the women said ran together, so he couldn't have answered the questions if he wanted to. The raven haired women began screaming at him after around twenty minutes. He winced, and the man behind him stepped foreward.

'We're not gonna get anything outta him. Lets just wait till we hit Alaska. I'm sure they'll get something.' The women nodded. 'Take him to the brig.' the brunette ordered. The man nodded, and Athrun again found himself being steered away. He didn't get two steps before he colasped.

OK, little Athrun isn't well. And is he actually an ensign? I'm fairly sure he is. So, R&R?