Tourniquet

Chapter Six

(Disclaimer: Someone else owns these characters. But they're too interesting to leave them at that.)


The house had an atmosphere of betrayal, loss and death. He remembered sitting near the edge of his bed, when his legs were still short enough that his bare feet still hovered just over the chill of the hard wood floors. In that moment, Douglas Nichol would hesitate. He knew the cold of the floor would slice up his legs like icicles piercing through his soles and up into his knees. Or the frozen fingers of a ghost would wrap around his ankles.

The only alternative was to stay. To stay asleep forever under the blankets of drowsiness.

Each morning he had to remind himself that it was not the same house. His mother was not reading the morning paper at her place at the head of the long table. Mrs. Catalonia was not taking extra time to cover up her nightly tears that everyone would pretend that they did not hear.

Instead, he would have to remind himself that he was waking up on Earth, but in one of the many Kushrenada mansions. Une had acquired his estates as legal guardian to Treize Kushrenada's heir. And Nichol was there as a handpicked bodyguard for that same heir, Mariemia.

That thought also caused him to pause; although, his feet were already hard pressed against the chill boards of the floor. His weight half transferred to his legs and his arms ready to lift against the mattress. In that moment, he felt the irrational fear that he might fail. The pressure of getting up no longer was the despair of living in a fatherless household. Instead, he had to accept the responsibility of Une's trust and Mariemia's life. Shaking his head, Nichol finished standing and stretched.

By the time he dressed, Nichol would have forgotten he'd hesitated at all.


"Everything okay?" He asked, the first words he had spoken that day, the same as every day.

"Yeah, nothing unusual at all," Sally Po stayed in the room next to Mariamia's. She rolled her shoulders and added, "She's in a right mood, like always. For all of our high recommendations from her adopted 'mother,' that girl does not much care for either of us."

"Heh," Nichol rubbed at the back of his neck. He'd recently cut his hair, which left him more insecure than he cared to admit. Living as a civilian had softened not only his appearance, and he'd been training regularly when he and Sally traded shifts watching their charge. The more he tried to regain his soldier's edge, the more he realized how far he had yet to go.

"Are you getting enough sleep?" Sally narrowed her eyes, but the set of her lips remained gentle and her eyebrows merely lifted in concern, "You know, nothing is likely to happen without some sort of chatter being picked up by the Preventers. We'll be well prepared for anything before it happens."

"And if we aren't?" Nichol fought back a yawn with a flash of indignation.

"Then we'll improvise!" Sally said lifting one finger and gracing him with a cheerful smile.

"That certainly inspires confidence!" Came a shrill voice from behind the bedroom door.

"She's got sharp ears," Nichol frowned at the closed door that they stood in front of. The newly twelve year old was spoiled in his opinion and too young yet to truly benefit from her bizarre life experiences. Being used as the puppet figurehead in a global revolution had done nothing to diminish Mariemia's ego.

"I don't know how you could hear anyone sneaking up on you when you both talk so loudly!"

"Well, excuse us," Nichol scowled at the door, "Where is it that we have to take this scamp today?"

"Nichol," Sally said, half-scolding and half-bewildered, "You really shouldn't treat her like that if you want her to respect you."

"I don't see the reasonable approach working for you," Nichol crossed his arms as they waited. Sally wouldn't let him consider eating until they'd chaperoned Mariemia to the dining room.

"That's because, well, there's a small issue regarding someone that she's fond of..." Sally started, but right then Mariemia pulled open the door to her room with such ferocity that they could hear the air being displaced. The girl slapped at the light switch intentionally before Nichol could get a good look into the bedroom. She resented having anyone in her room even to check for surveillance devices or other potential weaknesses. That morning, however, the young red-head's appearance was startling enough to have distracted even the most determined bodyguard.

Nichol sputtered, hiding his laugh in a choked cough. And Sally shifted her weight, fighting the temptation to elbow her partner.

Mariemia blinked. She was gaining inches in height every few months; although, she was keeping her hair as short as she had when she was a younger girl. And she blinked again, more carefully as the false eyelashes brushed against her rouged cheeks. She pressed her brilliant pink lips together and then said, "I hope that I'm not too overdressed to survey Relena's, I mean, Ms. Dorian's school. I wouldn't want to make any of the other applicants feel under qualified."

"They've arranged a private tour for you, Miss Kushrenada," Sally spoke so solemnly that Nichol had to chew the inside of his lip in order not to react.

Mariemia had no such reservation. Her decorated upper lip pulled into a curl that wrinkled her petite nose, "Have they? Well, I suppose that will do." Then, with a sudden bashfulness, she turned to Nichol, "Do I look nice?"

Nichol tried to overlook the girl's temper, and smiled at her insecurity, "Did Une help you pick out the color? I think that it's a good choice for you."

The way she smoothed out her skirt and shuffled on her feet, Nichol felt he'd answered well. He missed Dorothy just then. Dorothy's transition into a woman had been more politically aggressive but nonetheless subtle and feminine. He could imagine Hilde partially pulled toward the kitchen and in part to her tools in the garage. What they all had in common was the struggle of becoming an adult in a world of political unrest and uncertainty. They had all lost their fathers.

"Good," She said, her tone abruptly returning to that of a miniature dictator, "Then let's eat so we can be on our way."

Nichol trailed behind. Sally keeping nearly in step, but letting Mariemia lead down the hall. In some moments their surveillance seemed overdone, but Une wasn't taking anything for granted. She was maternally protective of Treize's daughter.

The girl swayed as she walked in ambitious high heels. Nichol felt a sloppy grin cross his face and an instinctive fondness for the ridiculous child. He wanted her to grow up safe. He wanted her to have a father.

And with that thought, the smile slipped from his face.


He always ended up being the chauffer. It was simply safer to have him drive rather than trusting someone else. Nichol also knew the vehicle well enough. It was a similar model to the car he'd used to drive Une around the colonies, and he knew the shape and structure of the mechanics well enough that he could judge if they'd been tampered with by sight. That was one skill that came back more quickly than he'd expected. While his other senses were slightly dulled and his paces caused him to loose his breath faster than he remember, Nichol still could judge a machine. He had been the original test pilot to practically fly out and orchestrate a battle with a unit of Mobile Dolls. At the time, it had been a relief because of his general distaste at the poor piloting of the naïve OZ soldiers. He had felt his most confident coordinating with the speed and grace and the pure reaction time of the Mobile Dolls.

Driving was almost the same. Except that he had two very real passengers. Sally had given up on polite conversation. Nichol hadn't felt much like talking, and, when spoken to, had answered her with polite briefness. Mariemia stared out the window, taken with one of her sullen moods. Even though they'd only been together for a couple weeks, they'd formed a superficial understanding of each other. And Sally resigned herself to keeping an alert, silent watch.

Nichol had almost relaxed to the rumble of the automobile's engine by the time they reached the shuttlecraft that was going to take them to the Sank Kingdom. Relena Dorlian had reconstructed the school for pacifism that she'd started during the Great War. A separate building had been built as an elite school for young women, in part with funding from the Winner family wealth demonstrating the support of the colonies. While the roots of pacifism were still present, the curriculum was more general and the application process less rigid. It had become quite fashionable for the wealthy to send their daughters, but Nichol resisted sharing the multiple jokes that he and his sister had created at the school's expense. Mariemia might be the sort of girl to benefit from such an environment.

The clouds were starting to roll in from the west and Nichol watched in the rearview mirror as Sally pushed her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head, peering around the airport. Mariemia looked bored, her lips slack and open, a thin chord trailing from her ear the only evidence of the music she was listening to.

After the car pulled up against the curb, Sally got out and spoke to the uniformed attendant making arrangements for a secure boarding onto a private flight. She stepped around the front of the car and tapped her knuckles against the window even as Nichol pressed the button to lower the glass.

"Are we good to go?" Nichol asked, studying her face. He knew he had to rely on reading her emotions if there ever were to be a situation where verbal or exact communication was no longer an option. But her eyes were as bright and cheerful as always, stunningly so in contrast the graying blue of the sky beyond her.

"They asked that we take the car into the building just back there and to your right. I'll meet you inside and they have a separate hall to the private jet." Sally smiled, then added more softly "It's good to be outside. I'm so glad the 'don't leave home' policy was lifted."

Nichol nodded, closing the window and reversed the car to make the turn off. He caught Mariemia's look as he twisted in the driver's seat and gave her a quick smile. She didn't change her expression, but her eyes drooped. He wondered if she were lonely always having to be with adults and constantly under adult supervision. The past few weeks of being bound to the property had been tedious for both himself and Sally. He only then could imagine how awful it must have been for the girl. The grey material of the car seats reflected against her pale skin giving her a sunken aura.

The dark of the airport private garage was broken by humming fluorescent lights. The area was well lit, but Nichol was grateful to see Sally give the 'all clear' by waving them in. He cut the engine and then stepped back to open the door and help Mariemia out. She swayed on her heels and, without making it obvious, he let her hold his hand just long enough to get her balance.

"All of the luggage was taken already on the other private jet," Sally spoke, apprising both Nichol of the smooth process and Mariemia of the security of her belongings, "Follow me."

Nichol slowed his steps to keep back with Mariemia, but felt at a little of a loss what to say. He was used to Hilde coming up with conversation and his silences with Dorothy were more comfortably familiar.

"I was thirteen when my mother started to send me to the Romefeller School for Boys," Nichol said nonchalantly.

"Did you like it?" Mariemia asked with an air of indifference. She didn't look up, but continued to watch her feet as if bewildered by how they managed to continue in their forward movement.

"Truthfully, I was just glad to get away from my mother, but I didn't make many friends," then Nichol started, coughed into his fist and realized what he had been saying, "I did learn a lot. And," he scrambled for words, "I'm sure things are different for girls."

"Not really," Mariemia said, and then the silence didn't feel as uncomfortable, and Nichol didn't draw attention to the fact that she'd started to hold onto the fabric of his shirtsleeve.


Once Sally had inspect the plane, Nichol followed Mariemia onboard and the girl had insisted on sitting by herself in one of the front left seats. He and Sally kept to the back as she wished, glad that they could still keep an eye on her.

Nichol had taken the seat where he could best stretch out his legs and leaned back into Sally's shoulder. While Sally could have piloted the jet, Une had given them her own personal pilot and he was enjoying Sally's company.

"I can't tell if she's simply interested in making things right or if she sees me as some sort of, I don't know," Nichol made to run his fingers through his hair and just remembered that it was mostly gone and rubbed the top and the different feel of it.

"Mmm," Sally answered.

"The day she called me in to her office to discuss strategy and update us on the latest information on the Domingo conspiracy, do you remember? She had me in her office and kept talking about birds of all things. I know she has that cage and the green whatever they are, but she asked me what I thought would happen if someone let a pet bird fly free. I mean, what kind of question is that? Do pet birds know how to feed themselves, Sally? Do you know?"

"Mmm," Sally answered.

Nichol shifted, "I don't think so, in which case, the birds would probably come back. Unless they got lost. Well, that's what I said, and she seemed to like that answer. But it's so hard to tell with her. I remember once when we were on Barge and she was joking around about how the Mobile Dolls would someday be downsized to be human servants. But when I brought it up to her later, she simply stared at me as if she'd never imagined something like that before. Sure does dampen a joke. Although, I suppose that was probably due to the whole confused identity issues that she tells me she had. I'm sort of relieved that's what it was. I had noticed, but." Nichol paused, "Hey, Sally, isn't it funny how differently we feel about our memories than how we felt at the time? I remember being so angry. Angry that she couldn't keep a single thought in her head. I knew I couldn't trust her and that made me angry. And now, it's kind of funny. Thinking about how angry I was. I felt powerless then, but I see it differently now."

"Mmm," Sally answered.

He felt her shift and the place where his back had met her shoulder was suddenly cold. He craned his neck to look over at her. Sally had her chin balanced against her opposite fist.

"What do you think about that?" He asked, above the clouds the sun was brilliant and he had to shift to keep in Sally's shadow. It was hard to see her expression in that contrasting darkness, but when she spoke, her tone was familiar and normal.

"I'm really not sure, Nichol," She said and he saw the profile of her lips pull back in a small smile, "I suppose it's something that you'll just have to find out."

"Mmm," Nichol nodded, recognizing how the exact pitch and duration of his murmur had imitated Sally's and he chuckled, "We've been working too closely, Sal. I'm starting to sound like you."


They were wearing casual uniforms that day, but without badges to identify themselves as affiliated to the Kushrenadas or the Preventers. Nichol had actually wanted to use another countries ribbon or seal, but Une hadn't been comfortable with misrepresentation either. Mariemia's safety was a first concern, but inappropriately using a political symbol could cause unintentional damage as well. Nichol had tactfully withdrawn his suggestion. Instead, he felt a little like a utility man as he left the jet first and surveyed the airport wearing the light grey slacks and jacket. Nothing appeared amiss and soon Sally and Mariemia were at his side.

They had outpaced the weather, but the clouds were steadily rolling ever closer. It came ominously enough to cause Nichol's intuition to border on anxiety. He knew that it had to be nothing but the atmospheric changes, but Sally caught his look and returned it with a concerned set to her jaw and lips.

Mariemia also was nervous, but he suspected the cause was reasons other than her own safety.

"I need to go to the bathroom," She touched her cheek reflexively, and Nichol nodded Sally toward the nearest facilities.

"That's a good idea," Nichol said, trying to sound reassuring. He remembered how sick he had been the nights before he went back to the Romefeller school. He wondered how it might have been if he'd had someone to tell him everything would be okay. Even if it wasn't okay, to know that someone cared about him.

He watched as Sally entered first then came back out holding the door open for the girl who's step was starting to look as if the shoes were hurting her.

The open foyer area that he was standing in was mostly empty, a few of the employees were standing together around a counter labeled, "Rental Vehicle Information." Directly across from him was a wall of complete glass facing the upcoming storm. He could see their vehicle waiting for them. It was again exactly the same as the one he'd driven that morning. Inspecting it would be quick. He tried to shrug off his reservations.

Then he felt the silent vibration of his communication device. It resembled the smallest transportable video set, but let the receiving party listen or speak only. He pressed the button to accept the incoming message and turned to face the bathroom when he put the earpiece in. He expected Sally.

It was Une.

"Nichol, don't speak. We've got you on visual through satellite of the airport security. I don't know where they are and if they can see you."

His heart stopped, but he relaxed his posture and with effort continued to breath normally.

"We're sending the local Units Four and Six out, but I don't think they'll make it in time. I want you to keep Mariemia with you and send Sally out to the car as if it were a routine check. She should be able to ID the suspect on the street. Chances are he's not alone and he has weapons."

Nichol attempted a smile when he saw Mariemia, but Sally fixed him with a cold look. She knew.

"I'm going to go check the car, now." He put a hand on Mairemia's shoulder.

"No," Une's voice pierced through the system, but Nichol kept smiling, "Sally goes."

"It doesn't look different from what I'm used to driving," Nichol spoke aloud and lifted his hand. He couldn't explain himself. He didn't want Sally to be the one to go.

"Do not disobey me, Nichol. You will not. Stay with my daughter."

Then Sally hand reached down to respond to the nearly silent hum of her equipment. Nichol wanted to curse, but continued to force a bare smile. Mariemia's eyebrows wrinkled the center of her forehead. He didn't want to think they were being watched, but even the very few seconds they were waiting seemed like an obvious stalling.

"I'll go," Sally said, her voice indifferent. Mariemia looked up at her.

Nichol shifted his weight. This wasn't how he worked with Sally. He wasn't used to Une telling them how to do their work, not when it came to the details. His throat resisted swallowing, but his lips formed the words, "Alright then."

"I wouldn't be surprised if our girl doesn't ask you to carry her to the car," Sally said lightly, reaching toward him with one arm but not quite closing the distance between them, "Her feet are bothering her more than her mother imagines."

"Good idea." He felt the old anger again, but this time he realized his frustration wanted to come in tears. His stomach sank as he recognized how civilian his reactions had become as he watched Sally walk away as the grey of her uniform matched the grey of the exterior lighting. Why did anyone need to check the car? Why couldn't they simply pretend that they'd forgotten something on the jet? Or why hadn't Une contacted Sally and told her to simply stay in the restroom? He could think of a dozen potential alternatives.

He felt Mariemia take his hand. Having Sally go to the car was obvious to Mariemia as out of the ordinary. Wouldn't anyone who'd been waiting for them suspect?

Nichol surveyed the exits, the ground level fire escape door was close on the right and the first place he would go if they needed to run. Sally was outside now. Lifting the hood of the car.

"Excuse me, miss. I believe you dropped this?"

In truth, Nichol was bewildered by his reaction. The attendant was on the ground as soon as he had stretched his arm out toward Mariemia. Nothing indicated that person was a threat but Mariemia's shriek and pull on his arm alerted him to the other's approach. And this man was armed. And too close to use it properly. Nichol instinctively grappled and with more strength in his arms heard the satisfying drop of the metal against the tiled floor. Fists were enough to put the other man down, and Nichol cursed his lack of finer fighting.

"We're getting out of here," Nichol swooped Mariemia into his arms, and for all of her gangly new height she'd barely gained weight so that she hardly seemed a burden. One shoe fell and she barely kept the other balanced on her toes. She curled an arm around his neck and he ran for the exit he'd seen. Turning to push it open with his momentum, he narrowly missed the inward blast of the projectile glass, as the street suddenly became an explosion of heat and light.


He ran. First through the parking lot, down one length of cars before running across. His only thoughts were speed and distance. Mariemia was crying. Now and again her open mouth sobs would cause her to bite his shoulder, but he barely noticed. It was enough to know she was still alive. Mariemia was alive. And he was running.

The airport was set away from the city and the path they were on ended up at an open field and in the distance a line of trees. Possibly there would be a subdivision between those trees.

When his stride started to burn, he realized he was being given directions. Perhaps he'd been given directions all along.

"Go left on the first street. Unit Four is nearly there and will meet you."

It was a suburb. When his feet hit the asphalt he turned left. And the rain started. Mariemia's hand on his neck began to loose its grip between their sweat and the sudden downpour. Panicked she grabbed onto him tighter and he wanted to choke.

"Not so tight, my girl," He rasped afraid of the headlights he saw, and hopeful of them. But with the relief returned his anger. Not knowing who to be angry at. Why wasn't he informed of the danger until it was right upon them? Where was Sally?

The last question caused him to stumble, and he dropped Mariemia's legs but she was ready to be put down and stood with her arms still around his shoulders as he bent double trying to breathe. If the headlights weren't Unit Four, should he fight? Or should he run? He couldn't leave Mariemia alone. They might not kill her. They might kill him. But he didn't want her to be alone.

Who thought two alone would be enough? They should have kept an entire unit with her. A Gundam pilot. Or two.

"Nichol!"

He looked up and through the rain he saw Une, wearing her dark black Preventers uniform darkening as it got wet and she tried to not look like she was running. Unit Four hustled behind her. Nichol felt a soldier at his side.

"I don't need help," Nichol snapped, trying to stand upright, "What the," He paused and glanced over at Mariemia who had a heavy blanket thrown around her making her seem smaller and one set of false eyelashes were stuck against the pink smear on her cheek, "What," He stammered.

"Thank you. Thank you, Nichol," Une touched his face once, causing the drop of rain and sweat to smear where her hand had been. Then she immediately went to her daughter, turning her to walk toward the vehicles. The Unit was alert but didn't seem in immediate danger.

Nichol felt as if they might leave him behind and took a couple steps staring at Une's back. She did turn then, as if knowing he was lagging.

"Come on," She smiled, the same fond smile she cast on her birds. The smile that seemed so distracted and forgetful.

"But what," his voice was ragged, and he couldn't stop his thoughts from running faster than he could capture them, "But Sally."