New Mobile History Gundam Wing: The Sword

by seraphiczero

After the formation of the ESUN, Heero Yuy still finds that he cannot let go of his old ways, and he struggles to become an ordinary man. However, trouble is brewing in the background, and he may not be able to give up The Sword after all. (Direct continuation of Endless Waltz; non-canon with GotL and Frozen Teardrop. Official artwork on deviantArt!)

2. Act I, Episode 2

Captured on the frozen water was the reflection of a snow covered garden. There was stillness in everything, and that stillness was the patience to be born again with new life. He looked down into her for the longest time. The bitterness in Heero's deep blue eyes had vanished. And looking deeply into her, he saw the reflection of a soldier.

Jen Aoki laid on her back on the ice, looking up at the man sitting on the stone bench. The young woman blushed, feeling unsettled from his profound gaze. She spoke softly, "Heero?"

He averted his sight from her, saying, "Jen. You'll ruin your clothes playing around like that."

"I think I tore a hole in my trousers," she stated matter-of-factly. Her candor often stole any seriousness from a conversation.

Heero's head and shoulders slumped somewhat in reaction. It wasn't easy to shake his icy and serious facade. Of course she tore her pants sliding on the ice. Jen was a grown woman, but she wasn't above rolling around in the snow on a winter's day.

"Let's go inside," he said. They had been outside long enough. He slowly rose up from his seat and left for the house, treading silently through the snow. He did not look back, letting her go along at her own leisure.

Jen did not sit up right away, lying at the foot of the stone bench. She gazed upward into the sky as the white powder drifted down to earth, relishing in the expanse of the frozen garden. The sky was vast, swallowing her up, and the earth underneath her seemed to vanish, leaving nothing but this curious feeling inside. Her life had transformed in impossible ways. She was centered, and she was unbound by limitation.

Jen unwound her scarf and slipped out of her coat as she came through the doorway. A mild flame had been stoked in the fireplace. The hot wisps danced hypnotically, throwing a warm orange glint onto the walls. She basked in the warmth of the room until her skin stopped tingling from the cold. Kicking off her boots aside the door, Jen left upstairs to change out of her damaged garments.

Heero had since turned on the television, but simply for the background noise. He was busy preparing a light snack for them both: two apples cut into slices and mugs of hot chocolate to keep them warm—with a marshmallow in hers. He liked to keep things simple.

Heero looked again at the apple slices with some frustration. They were crudely peeled and cut into large chunks. If Jen had done it herself, she would have peeled the apples with a single cut, leaving the skin as a long corkscrew-shaped strand, and then the apples would be sliced into neat little wedges. The only thing Heero could carve well was people. For him, he could never muster any finesse in happy things like apple wedges.

The fruit had been grown in his garden, harvested before the winter frosts lulled the earth into a deep slumber. At first his gardens were merely grassy fields only good for making space and quiet. That was fine enough for him. It was only when Jen Aoki came to the house that the land was cultivated to produce a panoply of fruits, vegetables, and flowers. How she transformed everything around her! Leaves glowed, vines unfurled, and blossoms painted the horizon under her embrace.

Cooking and taking meals together was regular practice now. It was the foundation of a strong family, Jen often declared. Heero was clumsy at it, but he tried. Before she came to the house, Heero ate very simply. He took his meals without flavor, conversation, or laughter. He ate to have the strength to eat again the next day. Days were work: garage maintenance, contracts, clients, training. And before that, his days were gunshots, bloody screams, ruined battlefields, nation-altering subterfuge, and city-flattening explosions.

Life was so different now. Was this what they meant by peace? Heero was often tempted to claim it was, but he was afraid it would vanish the very instant he tried to pin it down, like a rare bird of paradise fluttering out of his grasp.

Jen was already settled in front of the television when Heero came with the apple slices and her hot chocolate. They drank from their mugs in slow gulps and chewed on the crisp fruit thoughtfully as they watched a documentary about the Eve Wars. The presentation of the events seemed too condensed and melodramatic to Heero. Though years had passed, the role of the Gundams remained a spotty, misunderstood mystery.

Bothered, Heero would sigh or clear his throat quietly from time to time while watching the program. Jen noticed this uneasiness, her gaze shifting between the screen and Heero. What was war really like? What was the truth? She could always feel herself wanting to ask these things, but she never felt like she had the right to pry into his past. She had no right, because she was a civilian, and soldiers like him had thrown their lives away day by day to protect her.

The program continued with an interview with a Tragos pilot during the wars. Years later, he still appeared to be dumbfounded by his close encounter with a Gundam. He claimed that the monstrous suit had jumped off of his Tragos like a springboard, crushing the head part, and went on to completely obliterate the base he was defending.

"I remember that," Heero said thoughtfully.

"I guess you didn't scare him enough so he would know better than to embarrass himself on TV?" Jen inquired jokingly. She tried her best to color things with a sense of humor. Heero huffed to stifle a laugh.

They turned back to the screen when the signal suddenly cut and a reporter appeared.

"Further development on what appears to be a terrorist bombing on the Preventers mobile suit facilities. Officials have reported that all of the mobile suits inside the hangar were either disabled or destroyed by high grade explosives. Several groups have claimed responsibility for the bombing, including radicalist peace factions that call for the elimination of all mobile weapons, but the legitimacy of these claims has yet to be confirmed.

"There is still no official word on the number of casualties, but several dozen workers are already being treated for injuries. Investigation continues, so please tune in to your local news station for further coverage. We now return to your normal broadcast."

"…so I charged at it from behind with a beam saber. Ho boy, that was a mistake!"

Heero's brows immediately furled. Did they get the Tallgeese? The pacifist radicals shouldn't be attacking the Preventers. Crippling ESUN's first line of defense could turn into a disaster.

This was the first Jen and Heero had heard of the situation. They lived isolated from the outside world. In the old days, Heero would have had the perpetrators at gunpoint by now, but he had long since forfeited that kind of involvement in the political world. It wasn't his responsibility anymore.

But he could sense the inner turmoil that this news had created in Jen. She seemed as though she wanted to say something, though no words surfaced.

He was being summoned, she thought to herself. Would he throw away his new life? How could she bear it if he got hurt? Would she be alone again? Jen became entangled in many thoughts like these, unable to answer them on her own.

She wanted desperately to keep Heero where he was, but Jen could say nothing because she had no reason to excuse that selfishness. She couldn't justify protecting her own wants and needs when there were people being hurt. Who was she to stop him?

"I won't go," Heero said suddenly. Jen turned and looked at him in near astonishment. After a moment he just pulled her close and rested her head under his chin. "They won't need someone like me," he assured her. "Not yet, anyway."

They sat together like this for a time, not speaking again. Under his embrace, she did her best to believe in his words, but she understood the lack of assurance in his promise.

Uncertainty haunted him. Today's fragile peace could dissolve at any time. How long would it be before there were mobile suits crushing cities under foot once again? The cost of peace was vigilance, but Heero had chosen to isolate himself from the world. How much longer could he afford to ignore reality? And even if he took to battle again, could one man make any difference?

In his thoughts, Heero's eyes drifted to the empty mugs and the plate they had cleared. There was still another load of tableware untended in the kitchen. The sight reminded him of where he really was.

Heero laughed on the inside. His younger self would have scorned his casual and frivolous life. It wasn't very soldierly at all.

"Jen," he started carefully. "We're done with these dishes. We haven't washed the pans from cooking before, either. Can you clean up for us?"

She had just gotten comfortable as he was holding her, but Jen pushed him away, playfully but firmly. "You did cook, but I don't know why you insist on me cleaning them every time. I really don't like washing plates!" Really. The grime, the soap, the splashing water! "I'll do anything else, please!"

Naturally he knew that she hated it. Heero only insisted every time to get a rise out of her. They sparred like this often to see who would assert mastery over the other. Even with her begging, Heero looked completely unfazed by the young woman's pleas. His silence made a pit in her stomach. Her eyes got really wide.

"Fine!" she huffed, finally breaking under pressure. "But only if you can beat me in the simulator! If that happens, I'll wash the dishes for a whole week!"

A devilish smirk curved his lip as he heard those words. Instead of washing the dishes once, Jen promised an entire week if she lost. Just as I planned.

She was doomed.

The simulator was what Heero used to test combat data in his spare time. The software was adapted from a mobile suit combat computer, and the living room housed two mock controls for mobile suits. Fiddling with the simulator was the closest thing Heero had to a hobby. It was simple enough for a civilian, so Jen challenged Heero regularly.

"I will never be defeated!" Jen declared, her controls humming to life.

"Destroyed." The announcement from the simulator put a deadpan expression on her face.

"Best two out of three!" She shouted. Jen mashed the 'shoot' button with her index finger and leaned forward into the controls with animated fervor.

"Destroyed!"

"You're such a cheater! Don't be mean to me. I don't even know why I like you so much! How the hell do you do that shit? Don't you shoot at me-it's rude! I'll sell your underwear online! I'll never talk to you again if you win!" Jen shouted whatever ridiculous thing she could to distract her opponent. Heero said nothing.

"Destroyed!"

A squealing gasp erupted from Jen as the defeat sealed her fate.

Heero sat at the kitchen table and sipped his tea from a mug. He watched as Jen stood over the sink. She would be stuck with this for a week now. He could tell she was irritated from the way the young woman's arm jerked as she toiled.

What a ridiculous way to say it. Why not just have it say "Lose"? The plates squeaked terribly as she attacked a spot that refused to dissolve under the sponge.

In the hundreds of tries she had made, Jen had yet to best Heero. He must have been a pilot of unparalleled renown, she thought. Their duels became like a nonsense ritual between the two of them. She would always challenge him and be hopelessly crushed, but that was all why Jen admired the purity of his candor.

Heero admired her determination. She was so stubborn and strong willed. With these musings in mind, his gaze passed over her carefully. He did not have an eye for such things, but Heero thought that Jen Aoki was blessed with remarkable beauty. His eyes followed the slender lines and the flowing curves of her frame.

Her smile, her figure, her laugh. Her sharp intellect and her endless questions. They had become so familiar. She seemed content. But, like Heero, Jen's life was not always like this. A lot of time had passed. With an air of nostalgia, Heero thought back to how things came to be this way.

---

It was early spring of After Colony 197. Heero was making his way to the new client's home on foot. He made no haste, enjoying the new season's crisp weather. His "transportation" was concealed a few blocks away to avoid causing a commotion.

He was clad in a navy blue dress shirt with dark slacks, Italian shoes, and a tie. Over this Heero wore a Preventers jacket. Sally Po had given it to him in a fruitless attempt to entice him to join their organization. He shamelessly sported the jacket even though he declined Sally's offer. In one hand he also carried a briefcase that contained his laptop and paperwork. He cut quite an impressive look, but no one who caught a glance of him would guess he had a pistol hidden on his person.

The neighborhood seemed quiet enough, Heero thought. It was a middle-class suburb with no real history of crime. However, the region had been seeing an uptick of anti-ESUN terrorist attacks. That type of activity was usually relegated to major urban cities where ESUN raised its offices.

The client was a young woman who got in contact with him by email. From what he knew, the client had been stalked for weeks before the situation escalated into an assault. These kinds of occurrences always left a bad feeling in his stomach. Heero agreed to meet with her to flesh out the details of the case for a bodyguard contract. It wasn't exactly groundbreaking work compared to his last few jobs, but a mild case was the closest thing he had to a night of sleep.

Jen sat motionless on the edge of her bed, her senses and memory becoming numb and blurred together. She was beginning to grow too exhausted to even think. That bodyguard was supposed to arrive to talk today. How in the world could things have gone so far out of control?

She had lived a hard life. After finishing school, she left her foster family to live on her own. The meager inheritance from her late parents was used to put a down payment on her house, and she worked minimum-wage labor to support herself. It was all she could do to lift her own burdens.

Jen could not believe how powerless she felt. She gazed into a picture frame at her bedside. The photo showed a kind man with his arm around his child. Though she was numb and in a haze, a single tear rolled down her cheek. Jen turned the picture frame down on its face, not wanting the man in the photo to feel ashamed of what she had become.

A cloud of tragedy always hung over her, even as a child. She was quiet, always keeping to herself, and she made few friends. Jen worked hard at everything she did, but her whole life was turned on its head in one night. After she was attacked, she closed up, and every little thing startled her. Nothing was safe. And before long, she could no longer muster the courage to leave her home. She was fired from her work a few weeks ago for her long absence, and her savings were quickly evaporating. The fear took everything from her.

Ramone came by the house often. She did her best to support her friend Jen through the difficult time. It was hard to watch an innocent person suffer in misery. Ramone had suggested they could put their money together and hire a bodyguard. It was an awkward idea at first, but with nowhere else to turn, Jen finally consented.

The search for a protection service was long and filled with uncertainty. It was difficult to find reliable information or to know who was trustworthy. Eventually, they came in contact with a man who said he was willing to take a job with them. His resume included contracts with company presidents, government officials, but also small cases with families and everyday people.

When inquiring about the fee, they were written back with a short message that said, The money is not so important. When the job is done, we can negotiate a fair payment. This man's job history and means of selecting cases seemed rather eccentric. However, Jen saw no glaring red flags and agreed to meet him for a contract. Short of selling her home and skipping town, it was her last option.

Heero came up to the steps and rapped lightly on the door. He checked himself to make sure he wasn't wearing a face that was too severe on whoever answered. A pretty girl opened the door a smidge and poked her head out to meet Heero face-to-face. She had violet eyes and her raven hair was cropped very short.

"Are you Jen Aoki?" Heero inquired.

The girl opened the door further and looked the young man up and down, causing Heero to feel somewhat defensive. "Who's asking, handsome?" She questioned with a provocative inflection in her voice.

A voice called out from the other room, "Ramone, was there someone at the door?" Another young woman appeared in the doorway, this one with long hair and a quiet demeanor. Ramone stepped aside to let Jen into the doorway.

Heero stood up straight and fixed his tie neatly. "I'm here to see Jen Aoki about a bodyguard contract."

"That's...me…." Jen answered, looking down at the man standing on the front steps. The sight of him stole her words from her. Something about him seemed intensely familiar.

When he met her gaze, everything else faded away. Even though they were strangers to each other at that moment, all the events of their individual lives were leading up to this seemingly uneventful meeting. Through countless events of chance, the two of them came face-to-face in the same place at the same time.

And while neither of them realized it, the ancient machinery of the cosmos shifted and turned as their eyes met. The massive gears and wheels of Being interlocked and ticked forward, sending a deep, thunderous wave reverberating through the veil of time and space. A grand destiny had been set in motion.

Act I, Episode II: Belonging

"I'm sorry about my friend. She's not exactly the shy type, and probably not the best person to have around at times like these." Jen shot Ramone an icy glare before turning back to her guest and extending her hand. "I'm Jen Aoki."

He took hold of the young woman's hand in a firm handshake. "Heero Yuy. It's a pleasure."

When their handshake ended, Ramone stepped in and clasped both of her paws around Heero's hand, saying "It's so good to meet you finally. I'm Jen's friend Ramone, and I'm very available!"

"I will kill you! This is supposed to be serious!" Jen mouthed silently but pointedly to Ramone, shielding her words with one hand.

"Please, come inside and sit," Jen said, welcoming her guest.

They all began to walk in, but Ramone hesitated. "You know," she started, "I was supposed to stay to make sure you were cool, but you already seem so calm and professional. Why don't I give you two some privacy, and I'll come check in on Jen later?"

"I'm beginning to think that's a good idea," Jen agreed with some annoyance.

Ramone began to walk out the door. "Oh my god, he's really hawt," she mouthed secretly to Jen, a pained expression barely containing the smile on her face.

A quiet moment passed after Jen pushed her friend out and closed the door. After their embarrassment faded, she and Heero both sat after Jen offered some water for her guest.

Heero got his first good look at his client. Her hair was a very dark brown—nearly akin to black—and it fell down to the small of her back. She hid her physique in a long sweater, though he could tell she was both slender and full in her curves. Her eyes were especially notable. They had an incredibly dark color that pulled in everything, like a pair of black stars.

However, she was very guarded. There was no spark in her smile at all. Although she was polite and kind in her demeanor, her spirit seemed empty like a cold ember. She must have endured much in her life, Heero thought, even before the events of the last few months.

"I didn't expect you to be so young," Jen commented, "especially considering your line of work. We're nearly the same age!"

"You could say I got an early start," Heero answered, essentially hand-waving the fact that he was a child soldier.

After exchanging the usual pleasantries, Heero opened his laptop to go over the case.

"Carter Ashland," Heero started. "In his mid-twenties. Ex-military. Served with the Romefellar Foundation and with the Mariemaia Army before its dissolution. A competent soldier, but rather unremarkable otherwise. Unemployed after becoming a civilian. Jailed for six months after committing felony assault-released on good behavior. A restraining order was filed against him four weeks ago. No sightings of him since. That was everything I was able to find on my own."

Jen was quiet for a moment. That was more detail than she knew. "That sounds right," she said.

"Can you give me more details about your interaction? Why did Carter attack you?" Heero asked clinically.

She was clearly uneasy, but Jen recounted what she knew. "He was a regular at the diner where I worked. He was strange and a little frightening. All the other girls were scared of him, so I would always be the one to go take his order. I did my best to be kind to him, like I do with everyone."

Heero asked, "Did he ever show any signs of aggression? And did he ever threaten you?"

"No he didn't," she answered. "He was very quiet, but sometimes he'd comment on the news on the TV. He seemed to have a chip on his shoulder over ESUN. After a while, I think he took a liking to me, but I didn't want to be friends."

"What happened with Carter after that?" Heero questioned.

"He followed me after I left work. It was really late, and no one was around. He told me that I was the only one who was nice to him, and that he wanted to see me outside the diner. I asked him to leave me alone and tried to keep walking, but he grabbed my arm. He was really upset, and we struggled for a bit."

"You don't have to say any more," Heero interrupted. Jen had a hard look on her face, looking away from Heero.

She continued despite the harsh memory, "I couldn't believe how strong he was. He just pinned my arms down to the ground like nothing. I begged him not to hurt me. He just told me to keep quiet. His hands were everywhere. My shirt was torn open. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe."

The expression on Jen's face became very pained as she recounted the attack, but she was also deeply angry. Hiding from it was misery, so she dragged the terrible memory to the surface with all the bitterness she could muster.

"He sat up to undo his belt, and something in me just snapped. I brought my knee up and stomped him as hard as I could. He screamed and fell over. I got on my feet and kept kicking him with everything I had. I couldn't stop screaming and hitting him. Eventually some people came running from the commotion."

Heero added, "The police report said Carter was badly injured when they picked him up. He was unable to walk during the arrest. You really turned the tables, considering he's a former soldier."

"It was just a lucky shot," Jen deflected unhappily. "I couldn't stand on that foot for a while. The doctor said I had fractured it."

Even though she had stopped the assault, Jen still felt deeply violated. Anyone could just reach out and touch her. Her safety had been an illusion.

She continued, "He was charged and locked up. But I guess after he got out, he came right back and found me. I saw him sitting in the diner. I couldn't believe it. He looked even more terrifying than before. His eyes were like ice and daggers. I just hid in the kitchen until he left. I filed the restraining order after that."

"Did the police say anything else?" Heero asked.

"Not really. They just said they put him in the database and that they'll talk to him when he turns up. I don't really understand how they can be so unconcerned about it. Are they just not going to do anything unless I'm attacked again?"

Heero looked unimpressed. "They can be surprisingly unhelpful sometimes," he explained. "One day they're playing hero and other days they're just there to file reports. Sometimes police just lack the resources to do anything. It's hit or miss."

"Ever since then, I've been staying at home. I don't want to risk running into him again," Jen explained.

Heero pondered, "I can see how Carter might have a vendetta after all that. But risking another arrest…." Jen didn't have any answers.

Heero thought again for a moment, weighing whether or not he should tell Jen what he knew. "I've had my suspicions," he said, "but I think we might be able to help each other out. I want you to stay calm, but look at this." He entered some keystrokes into his laptop and turned the screen around for the client to see.

Jen gazed closely into the monitor, seeing several news articles, but she looked up confused. "The Midnight Bomber?" she questioned.

Heero explained, "ESUN facilities have been hit in the nearby capital at a regular interval. It was always the same kind of explosive, the same detonation time, everything. But the attacks stopped for about six months until a new building was hit a couple of weeks ago."

The young woman's head was churning. "I don't understand," she admitted.

"The lull in bombings overlaps with the time Carter was locked up for the assault. Police wouldn't have known to investigate him for the bombings, so he had a close brush with the law. It's not a lot to go on, but he might be the terrorist responsible for the anti-ESUN attacks."

Jen's eyes were wide. "You think he's a terrorist?"

"I will have to keep digging," Heero answered, "but if he's behind the bombings, he'll be locked up for a long time if I can capture him. And that means he won't be running around causing you trouble."

"Shouldn't we tell the police?" Jen asked.

"We don't have any evidence yet," Heero said. "Besides, I can work faster on my own without police interference."

She was stunned. For a moment, Heero thought that maybe it was unwise to disclose his findings to the client. But then she suddenly declared, "Lucky!"

Heero was perplexed. "'Lucky'?"

"Yes," Jen said. "I'm very lucky. I get to help you do something as important as bringing down a terrorist!"

Heero was astonished. "I'm very impressed," he said. "You have a very positive way of looking at things. Most people would be terrified."

Jen laughed a bit at herself. She smiled sincerely. "Don't get me wrong. I'm so scared that I'm shaking! But I'll do everything I can to stand up to a monster that terrible!"

---

"Monster."

"Creep."

"Murderer."

That's what they all called him.

When the Mariemaia Army surrendered to ESUN, Carter Ashland and his comrades were placed under arrest and questioned on everything they knew about the Barton Foundation's plans. The Preventers agents were much kinder than he expected, but the investigation was grueling, and he was isolated for months before he was finally released.

He really believed in the message. Of His Majesty Treize Khushrenada's greatness. Of a righteous and powerful world order. That he belonged to a body of soldiers with talent and nobility. But when the world's armies dissolved, that all slipped through his fingers like loose sand.

Carter Ashland returned home after many years, but when he walked through the door, the faces he saw were no longer familiar. They were strangers. His friends had moved on, and his family didn't want to associate with him. They always looked down on him for fighting, and they were ashamed when he joined the military.

"Murderer."

He was alone. It ached terribly like no other pain or injury. Isolation was a weight on his chest that never stopped squeezing. When others turned away from him, it got heavier. When he saw others together without him, it got sharper. It never left him. And before long, he couldn't bring himself to really look anyone else in the eye.

"Creep."

He missed his old comrades in the military. That was family like no other. They butted heads constantly and beat the shit out of each other over nonsense, but there was no man who would hesitate to jump on a grenade to save another. It didn't matter how different, how awkward, how stupid, or how miserable you were. Everyone had something to offer. Everyone had a place. They were part of something bigger-something alive-something with purpose.

Carter tried calling them or messaging his old comrades many times. Very few answered. Those that did answer had changed. They were timid and meek-almost as if castrated. They were afraid of all the old things that made them soldiers.

"Don't you remember the old days?" Carter would always say. "We could start up something new!"

"I don't know, Carter. It's a bad idea. ESUN is changing things. What we did was wrong." They would always reply that way.

The family that was closest to him was wrong. That was ESUN's teachings. That was Vice Foreign Minister Darlian. Carter spat everytime she appeared on television.

When his peacetime stipend ran dry, Carter looked for work. He had done all sorts of odd jobs in the military, but everyone he approached now turned him away. He wasn't even good enough to clean up their trash. They were afraid of him. There was blood on his hands. He was dirty.

It was discrimination. ESUN talked of acceptance and peaceful negotiation, but it was their teachings and their culture that hurt ex-soldiers the most. Many former soldiers petitioned for help and for change, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. No one cared now that the fighting was over.

Carter and men like him threw themselves on the front lines to make the world better. But now that the world had chewed them up and found no use for them, they were an afterthought. Now all ESUN ever did was argue over money and resources and their precious red planet. All the officials cared about was being elected for their next term and who got credit for hugging the next batch of war orphans.

It was wrong. He was angry.

Carter sat alone in his hideout. His thoughts had run away from him. Ammo boxes, chemical containers, and electronics surrounded him in disorganized heaps. He fingered the sharp point of a rifle cartridge as he simmered, but he felt nothing. He was numb all over. The weight on his chest never left him.

They were selfish.

He ached all over. He clutched the front of his chest. All he wanted was a bit of warmth. But there was nothing in that room but pain and pain to come.

"Monster," he said out loud to himself.

That's what he would become to make them listen.

---

Jen and Heero agreed to a contract.

"Is there anywhere else you can stay?" Heero asked.

"I don't have any family," Jen answered. "And I think Ramone's place would be way too cramped."

"A hotel could be out of our budget considering we don't know how long the investigation would take," Heero pondered. "It doesn't seem like he knows where you live. We can stay here for now, but you have to be ready to leave at a moment's notice if anything changes."

Jen nodded in compliance, "I can do that."

"There will be rules," Heero started. "All windows and doors to be locked at all times. All blinds and shades drawn on all windows. Do not stand in front of windows, even when the shades are drawn. No outside contact unless I say so. We do not go outside unless I say so." Heero stopped himself for a moment. "Do you have any weapons in the house?"

Jen made a weird face. "No? Wait-maybe…."

She led Heero to the garage and opened a small plastic case. "This is my dad's old flare gun," Jen explained. "We took it with us camping when I was little. He said we could fire it if we were lost or if a bear attacked us."

Heero inspected the flare gun and its ammo. "This caliber wouldn't be lethal if used on a person," he said. "It would hurt like hell, though." He dismissed it. "Not something we'd want to use if we don't have to."

He checked the rest of the garage. Jen didn't have much there since she walked everywhere and didn't own a car. He noticed a gas burner attached to a propane tank.

"What's with the gas burner?" He asked. "Your kitchen already has a stove doesn't it?"

Jen explained, "Sometimes you gotta fry something or cook something that would stink up the house too much. Or boil a pot during the summer without turning the place into a sauna."

It made enough sense to Heero. "Anything else aside from the flare gun?"

Jen pondered and led them to the kitchen. A set of very fine Japanese cooking knives were mounted to a wall magnet. She looked very proud of them.

Heero picked one up and thumbed the edge lightly. "This is actually really sharp," he said, "but the handles aren't right for fighting. They'd slip and cut you. And this type of steel is too brittle. The blade would snap after hitting something."

Then Jen lifted her cast-iron skillet off the countertop with both hands. The thing was ancient and weighed nearly twenty pounds. "How about this?" she teased. "You could hit him on the head. And I bet it could stop a bullet!"

Heero sighed at the thought. "It looks tough, but a handgun bullet would penetrate it. And it's not like we'll be carrying this thing around the house with us."

Jen pouted, setting the pan down with a clunk. "Well I thought it might've worked…."

"Anything else?" Heero asked.

"No," Jen replied, "but I'll beat a man to death with an egg whisk if I have to…."

Heero showed her his knife and his handgun. "I'll stick with what I got, thanks."

Over the course of the next few days, Jen continued her routine at home while Heero kept watch over the house. He stayed in the spare room at night and set up his base of operations in the living room. His single laptop was connected to a global network of computers which scoured the city's records and security footage for any signs of Carter. Even with all the computing power at his disposal, the search for their target would be gruelling since Carter had no employment or home address, and he kept himself well-hidden.

Jen was a very private person. She had felt wildly uncomfortable with the idea of hiring a bodyguard when Ramone first suggested it. How could she spend all day with a stranger? Although now that Heero was there, she was relieved to find that he was remarkably professional and transparent with her. He gave Jen a genuine sense of confidence and safety.

She did her best to go about her business without disturbing Heero's investigation, but sometimes she could not help but stare. It was like having a falcon nesting in your living room. You kept your distance because it was such a rare and dangerous creature, but you can't keep your eyes off of something so novel and unusual.

It was hard to understand how people like him still existed. He was a warrior standing in a garden. It must be lonely, Jen thought. But she knew it was a presumptuous notion from a gardener standing on a battlefield.

Heero was an enigma. He never seemed to sleep or eat or clean up under Jen's observation. Yet, he always seemed sharp and awake. His tie never came off. His suit was always clean and flawless. He even smelled nice. It was either witchcraft, or he did all that while she slept.

Ramone called every evening to check on Jen. She teased her friend endlessly. "Has he confessed his feelings for you yet, princess?"

"It'snotlikethatshutup!" Jen would bark back at Ramone. "He's just here to work. He's actually really nice."

Heero was genuine and rock-solid, Jen thought. That kind of help was hard to find.

One night, the aroma wafting from the kitchen made Heero's stomach growl angrily. He grimaced silently to himself. Just one time, he negotiated with himself, let yourself try some of her cooking. It always smelled so tempting. But he knew the horrible bastard he was arguing with was too stubborn, and he had to keep a professional distance between himself and his clients.

"How is it coming?" A voice asked.

Startled from his thoughts, Heero looked up to see his client. "Nothing yet," he answered. "He must be using burner phones, so he's very difficult to track. I've been looking at shipments for the kinds of chemicals used in the Midnight Bomber's attacks, but it's been a dead-end, too."

Jen nodded understandingly. "Hopefully it won't be too long, or I'll have to start referring to you as my roommate," she jabbed. Jen was wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of running shorts. It must have been near her bedtime. She set a bowl down in front of Heero and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa.

The client hugged her long legs to her chest and rested a cheek on her knee. She looked quietly at Heero. "Please try this one. If you turn this one down, too, I'll cry," she said dryly.

Sweet Jesus, Heero muttered to himself in his thoughts. Her curves were splendid. But his eyes never strayed from hers. The wooden bowl, too, looked horribly tempting. It looked to be some sort of rice porridge garnished with small greens. It seemed so warm and soothing, the soft steam rising from the bowl beckoning him.

He had already spent so much energy turning down her cooking the other nights. Heero took the warm bowl into his hands and downed a few spoonfuls. The savory flavor and lightly salted broth was so filling. The warmth soothed him to his bones. But the greens were light and refreshing. Heero had never experienced anything like it.

"It's okayu," Jen said. "My dad used to make it for me all the time, but I've put my own spin on it. I cook it when I'm feeling lazy since it's basically just rice and water. How do you like it?"

Heero stumbled for words. He had no practice saying positive things. "It's...really good! The greens are...really...good. Refreshing."

Heero's heart sank when Jen shot him a bitter look.

"I had no idea you were such an uncultured swine," she grumbled. "It's celery." She stifled a laugh.

"I don't know much about cooking," Heero admitted. "We kept things simple on the battlefield. I just ate whatever I had in front of me."

"I can respect that," Jen replied, "but I can teach you about cooking, too. You know, whenever you're not busy hunting terrorists." She smiled softly at him. He would like that, Heero thought, forgetting for a moment they were contractor and client.

She spoke again before he could respond. "Finish it while it's still hot. I already had mine." He nodded and picked up the spoon again. They sat together in silence, enjoying each other's company. Jen took the bowl from Heero when he was done and set it down on the coffee table, not leaving her seat.

"Thank you for helping me," she said.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "We haven't even found anything yet."

"Just having you here makes me feel like I can keep living again. I thought it was all over for me," Jen admitted.

It was true, Heero thought. She had color in her face again. And Jen's eyes shimmered in the seldom moments that she smiled.

"Everyone needs help sometimes," Heero said kindly.

Jen contemplated for a moment. "Can I ask you something?" she said.

Heero nodded wordlessly.

"Why do you do this? Why protect people?" she asked. "It can't be easy."

"Well," Heero started to answer, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "the money isn't bad when my client is some rich bastard in trouble. And after the wars, there wasn't much I could do, but this kind of work suits me."

Jen asked, "What about people like me? I can't imagine you make any money off charity cases like mine."

Heero thought to ignore the bounty on the Midnight Bomber, instead focusing on the main thrust of Jen's question. "I haven't thought a lot about it. When I was a pilot, I fought to take down tyrants like OZ and White Fang. It cost me everything. I hated seeing bystanders get hurt, but there isn't much you can do about that in a mobile suit battle.

"When I started doing this kind of work, I could do more to stop people from falling through the cracks. Sometimes the cost just doesn't factor. It doesn't matter if it isn't easy. You just have to do it."

She asked a different question he wasn't expecting. "Are a lot of your clients women?"

"Hmm," Heero thought. "No, honestly most of them are dirty old men. They're no fun to work with, but they're usually the ones in big trouble, and they're the ones with pockets deep enough to find people like me. Once in a blue moon a client will have me protect his wife or his children. A mistress once. Why?"

Jen looked away and hugged her legs more tightly. Her eyes looked empty and distant.

"I had no idea how helpless I was," she answered. "I thought I was strong, but…."

Her thoughts wandered back to that moment. Jen said, "When I was being held down, and I couldn't move, and I couldn't breathe…. I didn't even really realize what was happening. I was just so terrified. It felt like I wasn't even really there."

She explained, "All I knew was that I wanted to get away. I thought that, if only I had wings! I could fly away. If I had claws, I could fight back. If I was a monster, I couldn't be hurt. But I wasn't any of that."

Jen placed the fingertips of one hand over one of her eyes, her expression dark and void like a deep pit. "When I think about it, for some reason I can't help but remember my dad-how strong he was when he held me. Or when I was a little girl how he tossed me into the air and caught me again. How I would laugh and laugh. My father's strength made me safe."

She put a hand over one of her wrists. "I can still feel it. The pressure holding me down. I had no idea men were so strong. My arms were like wet paper. If anyone wanted to take me, it'd be over in an instant. How could a person use his strength to do something so evil…? The thought eats at me every waking moment. And I hate how it tarnishes my memories of my father!"

Heero was quiet for a long time. "Don't overthink it," he told her. "You'll just make things more complicated. All we can do is face reality and keep moving."

Jen began to sob. "It will just happen again. No one will save me. I can't even save myself."

She turned away, tears flowing freely down her cheeks, grief forming deep lines at the corners of her mouth.

Heero sat in silence to respect her tears. It wasn't wrong to cry.

He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and looked her right in the eye. "Things are different now," he assured her. "I am right here in front of you."

Jen's shoulders shook as she fell and cried with grief. Without thinking they reached out for each other, and Heero hugged Jen into his chest. Hot tears soaked through his shirt. She gripped his sleeves so tight they could tear. He embraced her closely. Heero's chest ached. Her pain was so deep. It flowed freely into him.

Heero had never comforted anyone before. He really messed up, he thought. He wasn't supposed to get too close to his clients. But he could not help but think this was the right thing to do. He hugged her even more tightly. The world stood still for them.

Her cries subsided. Her grip on his shirt came loose. She had fallen asleep in his arms.

Heero embraced her for a time, still shocked from the cascade of emotion. His heart still hurt. But the pain made him happy in a way. He was happy he could lift it from someone else and hold it. He could bear the pain of others without burning up in the light and warmth that poured from it.

Without waking her, Heero lifted Jen up and walked to her bed. He gently set her down on the mattress and pulled the covers over her. She didn't stir once. It must have exhausted her to let all that out. She cried for a lifetime.

Heero didn't know what to do or what to think now. He could hear her gentle breathing and see her face flushed from the hot tears. He left the room, locking the bedroom door behind him, and put out the lights in the house.

He was worn in a way he had never felt before. Even his joints ached now. But he sat down in front of the blue monitor again to redouble his efforts. He had to solve this case once and for all.

---

Singing birds. A soft light peeking in from behind the window curtains. Jen had slept in late on accident. She opened her eyes slowly. They felt tender and puffy from the night before. She felt very raw but also oddly refreshed. Jen pulled herself out of bed to shower and dress herself.

She found Heero in the living room already working. He set down his mug of hot tea to greet her, but she walked right up to him and bowed her head low in an apology.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," she said. "I let my emotions get away from me. I didn't mean to make things strange."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Heero said. He was somewhat surprised with her distant demeanor.

Jen bowed her head lower. "I won't interfere with your work again. Thank you for looking after me," she said before standing upright. She looked Heero in the eye earnestly.

"Everyone needs help sometimes," Heero repeated his statement from before.

Jen muttered under her breath, a little frustrated, "Why do you have to be so cool? Jeez."

"What was that?" Heero asked, not hearing what she said clearly.

"Nothing," Jen deflected. "So, what's the plan for today?"

Heero answered, "I'm trying some different tracking vectors, but the network will take some time to turn up anything."

"Does that mean we have time for an outing?" Jen asked. "I've been getting restless from being cooped up for so long."

"I think so," Heero said. "We'll have to be careful."

"I want to go to the market to pick up some fresh ingredients," Jen chirped. "Up for a walk?"

"Sure," Heero answered, getting up. "Let me get my jacket."

Heero secured his pistol in the back seat of his pants after they put on their shoes. He looked over at his client. She wore a simple blouse and a set of white capri pants. "We should try to disguise you," he said.

Jen shrugged nonchalantly. She found a baseball cap and threw on an old oversized jacket. Heero observed her appearance quietly. A tomboy, he remarked silently to himself.

She pulled the cap's visor down low over her eyes. "Let's go."

The farmer's market was several miles away. The morning spring air was clear and crisp. Joggers, commuters, and cars littered the sidewalks and roads. Jen and Heero walked in silence, keeping a low profile and focusing on the task ahead. When they arrived, there were already throngs of people milling about and streaming between the stands.

There must have been over a hundred tents and tables. Most displayed a panoply of earthy fruits and vegetables. The variety of colors, shapes, and flavors was staggering. Other stands had flowers, potted plants, or trinkets. Some stands served breakfast foods with freshly imported tea or coffee. Jen wanted to visit them all, but she could only buy what she could carry home and use the same day.

Jen looked like she had been revivified. There was nothing around them but prosperity and cheerful smiles.

"Let's sit down for breakfast," she said. "My treat!"

---

Carter gritted his teeth. He wanted to cry out in pain, but he stifled his own voice.

He braced his hand against the side of the closed stall. His fly was undone. He groaned painfully and shivered as the stream of urine finally loosened from him and splashed into the bowl. The toilet water was stained with deep bloody clouds. The searing pain was almost more than he could bear.

When it was over, he fell against the side of the stall, heaving deep breaths. He had to stand and wait for the pain to dissipate. It hurt so much that he wanted to throw up. There were tears in his eyes. But he could not scream out despite how sharply the pain cut him.

It had been many months since he was arrested. Jen had really done a number on him. Months later and he never fully recovered from his injuries after she fought him off. He really needed medical attention, maybe even surgical intervention, but he had no money to seek professional help. He put all his time and resources into fighting ESUN.

The pain was sharp and intense every time. It was a constant reminder of how Jen had brutalized him, and it was a reminder of how he had tried to hurt her first. She had damaged him so deeply both physically and mentally. Carter did not even feel like he was a man anymore. Everything was broken.

But he could never bring himself to hate Jen or blame her for what she did. If he hated her, then it would mean he hated the only person who had smiled at him in years. Then he would really have nothing left. Carter knew what Jen did wasn't wrong. Deep down, he knew who was at fault.

An angry thumping rattled the stall door. "Hurry up in there," a voice demanded. "I haven't got all day!"

Carter heaved a low sigh. Another selfish one, he thought. His pain did not matter. He was invisible. He was an inconvenience.

He picked himself up from the side of the stall. Carter pressed his sleeve into his face to dry up the droplets that clung to his eyelashes. He pulled up his zipper and turned to leave the stall.

The man standing outside was getting ready to knock again when the stall door opened. He was suddenly face-to-face with Carter who towered over him. The cold scowl on Carter's face caused him to recoil.

Before he could take a step back, Carter's massive fist shot out and slammed into the man's jaw like a thick wooden log. He toppled over and fell to the bathroom floor unconscious. Carter stepped over the man wordlessly and left the bathroom.

He walked out into the town market, his hands in his pockets. A cold, hazy presence clung to him. No emotion showed on his face.

In a moment he would meet with one of his suppliers. A shadow anti-ESUN group had arranged a backroom deal for basic materials for explosives. They used extremely common chemicals found in manufacturing to make it hard to trace and restrict their movements. He hated how the suppliers would insist that they meet in public places to discuss matters. There was no trust between them.

Carter looked out into the crowd at the farmer's market. There were so many people. There was so much color, buzzing, and chatter. He felt even more hollow than before.

Even in this crowd, Carter was completely isolated. There may as well have been a thousand miles between him and the next person. They were all dead to him.

He found an inconspicuous spot to stand and kept a lookout for the liaison. His brows furled when he saw someone familiar-someone he once saw many moons ago. Carter's eyes narrowed when he realized who it was: the Gundam pilot who destroyed the Mariemaia Army's fortification at Brussels. He would never forget that face and the deep blue eyes. Carter lost everything that day.

What in the world was a man like him doing in a place like this? He had no idea.

Carter could feel himself unfold his arms and start to walk forward. He didn't even know what he would do, but the hatred in him begged for a confrontation. The bitterness blackened his every footstep. Then something else shocked him.

He stopped cold in his tracks, his eyes wide. A cold knot twisted his stomach. Carter focused his gaze more closely to be sure. The woman next to the Gundam pilot was Jen Aoki. The large jacket hid her figure and the cap she wore obscured her hair and face. But he could recognize her anywhere.

The Gundam pilot and Jen stood together at one of the vegetable stands. Carter was not close enough to hear what they were saying, but he could make out their expressions clearly. Jen had a tomato in each hand, arguing some point with fervor. She rolled her eyes hard when the other man presented a quartered squash to her.

Carter clenched his fists. The deep, cold pit in his stomach turned so hard he could spew. What in the world were these two doing together in the same place?! Nothing made sense to Carter. They seemed so familiar with each other. Were they…?

It was too cruel. Carter hid. His heart raced. He hyperventilated. His nerves were all shot. He wanted to throw up so bad. Don't throw up. Hold it down.

He looked over his shoulder at them again. None of it made sense. No sense at all. How? How!

The man who destroyed his life. And the woman who shamed him. Together in the same place. He had to make sense of it. He seethed with pain and bitterness. It was too much to bear. Carter started trailing them and watched from afar. He would miss his meeting with the chemicals supplier, but...this was greater than any old bomb for ESUN.

---

Heero kept watch as Jen perused the many offerings at the market. She didn't draw attention to herself but examined all the vegetables and blooms with a discerning eye. Heero did not spot anything suspicious, but there was something looming in the air. Was it...bloodlust? It didn't make sense for a place so public and crowded. He was on edge.

One stand owner they crossed had a pair of puppies leashed to his booth. Jen knelt down to pet them. She giggled and cooed at the pups like they were human children. The dogs wagged their tails and licked at her hands. Jen smiled with a satisfied squeal.

"Don't you like dogs?" Jen asked, looking up at Heero. "You can pet them, too."

Heero looked down at the animals with a stony expression. "I'm working," he said.

Of course he liked dogs. They were loyal. And they were innocent. But he could not help but feel sad when he saw one. He hated seeing them get hurt.

His chest felt heavy. Suddenly he could smell the old recycled air of a space colony. He could hear the sweeping breeze washing over hills of green grass. And he could see a pup curled up under a pile of destroyed rubble. He blinked, and the memory was gone again. He said nothing.

"Your loss," Jen shrugged. "I'll pet them enough for the both of us."

Suddenly, there was panicked shouting in the distance. Then terrible screams. Heero looked up to see a billow of rising smoke. One of the tents had caught fire. It looked like the stand they had visited earlier for breakfast.

Jen stood up with alarm. There were already people running towards the commotion. "We should help," Jen said, already walking ahead.

But Heero stopped her, holding back her arm with one hand. Jen looked back at him with surprise. Heero's primary concern was keeping his client safe. "Don't be a hero," he asserted. "It's probably just an accident. They should have fire extinguishers."

Jen relented. Heero was right. She wanted to help, but at this point they would probably only get in the way. And Heero had to prioritize their safety.

Heero pulled Jen closed to his side. He looked on at the panicked running, the screaming, the smoke, and the tongues of flame. Several men began spraying down the fires with extinguishers or beating down the flames with heavy tarps. Ash and white foam scattered everywhere.

The memories overcame him again. Mobile suit explosions. A leo falling against an apartment building. Deep orange flames consuming everything.

Heero gritted his teeth. He was sweating, his breathing labored. Jen looked back at Heero and was shocked to find him out of sorts.

"What's wrong?" She begged. "I think they managed to put the fire out."

Heero shook the memory away. He clenched and relaxed his fists to force himself to calm down. He didn't know what was happening to him. "It's nothing," he said.

"Maybe we should get out of here," Jen suggested.

Heero agreed after a moment. "I think so."

"I got everything I needed. I hope everyone's okay," Jen said. "Let's go home."

---

Two days later and Heero was sitting in front of his computer again. His head was down, his forehead resting on his interlocked hands.

It was so strange, Heero thought. Whatever happened to him back there? He was often hard on himself for his past mistakes, but the memories never jumped out at him like that.

Jen was very worried, but Heero could not really articulate what happened. He insisted nothing was wrong. She wouldn't have understood, anyway, Heero thought. He lost face by losing his composure like that. Heero was supposed to be caring after his client-not the other way around. He would have to figure it out later.

That strange feeling he sensed at the market... Heero was distracted by all the commotion, but he could swear it hovered nearby even after they left. It never resurfaced, but Heero kept on guard.

It was night. Jen was in the shower after a long day of cooking and moping around the house. Heero continued to search for signs of Carter or the Midnight Bomber.

Heero tried another avenue: he tracked shipments for firearms and ammunition in case the Bomber was preparing for more direct confrontation. ESUN's pacifism efforts were entirely focused on mobile weapons and international relations, so small arms distribution mostly went unnoticed.

After the dissolution of the world's militaries, many nations either dismantled or sold off their firearms. This opened the avenue for arms collectors and private citizens to find firearms for cheap. Self-defense rights varied wildly between nations, so ESUN largely left the matter for local authorities to decide. It was possible for armed terrorists to overwhelm police with small arms obtained either legally or illegally. However, armed insurrections and gun violence were extremely rare.

Heero searched for arms trade activities nearby. There were a few collectors, but the affluent and peaceful region mostly had a distaste for weapons. However, there seemed to be regular consumers for equipment from Romefellar. It was unusual, considering Romefellar's reach wasn't particularly strong in the eastern nations, even at its peak.

And maybe all the trades were made for the same buyer? In a worst-case scenario, if this was the Midnight Bomber, it was possible he had the firepower of a small platoon. Any further details would be difficult to track. Heero began to worry he could be terribly outgunned on this mission.

Heero sat back and mulled over the bomber's methods. Random ESUN offices and facilities were destroyed by groups of small explosives. They were always detonated at midnight. Even though the facilities would be thoroughly devastated, there was no injury or death count from the blasts due to the late hour. The bomber's work was very surgical and avoided civilian casualties, suggesting a first-world military ethic.

There were lines the Midnight Bomber wouldn't cross? It was awfully kind for a terrorist, Heero thought.

Heero hung his head back and sighed. It was a huge mess. How did a civilian like Jen get caught up in all this?

An urgent notification interrupted Heero's thoughts. He sat up and pulled up the notice right away: a face-recognition match for Carter. Heero reviewed the information with intense interest. It was hacked front-door security footage from...a few streets away?

Heero gazed at the footage intently. The wide-angle lens warped the picture somewhat, but the footage showed many people walking past, one of whom was definitely Carter. His posture was focused and suspicious to Heero, as if Carter was trying to go unnoticed.

Wasn't this footage from the day he and Jen were at the market? Heero wound backward on the footage and saw Jen and himself walking about a block ahead of Carter. They were followed. And that meant Carter knew where they were.

"Dammit!" Heero cursed. He had to get Jen out of here. Heero was already on his feet, but he made himself stop. He couldn't afford to overreact, either. It had already been two days, and there were no signs of Carter. He never appeared again in other security footage.

Where was Carter now? Heero searched for unregistered cell phone numbers present at the market two days ago. One of the burner phones had its GPS data overlap with the route Carter walked on the security footage. Heero tracked down that phone's current position.

It was on the road nearby. And headed this way.

Before Heero even knew it, he had leapt over the table and was storming through the hallway. He burst through the door to grab Jen so they could both escape. But he stopped cold when he found her.

Jen clutched a towel to her chest. Her skin was still slick and glowing from the hot shower. She stood bent at the waist to let the water drip dry from her long hair. Even though she was undressed, Jen was so surprised by Heero's sudden outburst that her mind couldn't process what was happening.

She stood upright, clutching the towel closer to her chest. The damp cloth just barely concealed her nude curves. Jen quietly met eyes with Heero. She didn't understand the urgency in his demeanor, but she...wasn't unhappy to see him, either.

Jen spoke softly, "...Heero? What is it?"

Heero half-recoiled and half-froze at the sight. It felt like his heart had stopped. The sudden sight was too much for him to understand. Say something! He shouted at himself silently. But he couldn't move.

Before they knew what was happening, they both heard the hideous squeal of tires on the road outside and the thump of a car door slamming open. Then there was the heavy slide and clatter of a machinegun's bolt being cocked.

"Get down!" Heero called out. He leapt across the room and pushed Jen to the ground, hugging her head to his chest.

In the next moment, seconds stretched into ages. Everything in the room exploded and splintered apart. Dust and shards sprayed everywhere. The lamp shattered in a rain of glass, swallowing the room in darkness. The noise was so intense they didn't hear it with their ears as much as they felt it in their bones.

Jen's eyes were shut as tight as they could be. Her arms covered her ears and face. She couldn't even comprehend the noise and pressure all around her. All she knew was that she couldn't move.

The gunfire ceased as suddenly as it came. The roar of bullets left behind a profound, deafening silence. Bits and splinters skittered to the floor as the dust finally began to settle.

Opening her eyes cautiously, Jen came out of her shock to find Heero still pressing her to the floor. She wanted to speak up, but the intensity she sensed from Heero kept her silent. He was completely still-eyes locked straight forward-ears listening for the slightest movements.

The Perfect Soldier stood up, grains and dust rolling off of his shoulders, and shot a death glare through the wall full of bullet holes. Now it was his turn.

A man in the car tossed the spent machinegun to the ground and slid out from the vehicle, leaving the engine running. He stood with an air of menace and invincibility. He returned a glance into the darkness where Heero stood before leisurely making his way around to the side of the house.

Heero drew his pistol and knelt down next to Jen. He put a hand on her shoulder and asked, "Are you okay?"

Jen was shaking. She could only nod yes.

"Keep your head down for me, okay?" Heero said. Jen nodded again.

Heero exited the room leaving Jen with one order: "Hide."

Carter arrived at the front door of the house. He fired two rounds through the lock and busted open the door with one brutish kick. He wielded a different machinegun from before, this one mounted with a sling around his shoulder. Carter moved into the foyer and focused his senses for any signs of movement.

"Don't move," a voice commanded. It was Heero standing in a blindspot to Carter's right. Heero's pistol was trained right at Carter's head. But the man was clad head-to-toe in Romefellar anti-riot armor. He was completely bullet-proof.

Carter smirked. "You're good," he said, not even turning around to face Heero, "but that peashooter isn't going to stop me."

"Carter Ashland," Heero called out, "you're the Midnight Bomber, aren't you?"

"Guilty as charged," Carter drolled in response.

Heero shot him an icy look. "You're making an awful mess just chasing after one girl. The police will be here any moment," Heero growled.

"You got me all wrong," Carter answered. "I'm here for YOU. You might not recognize me, but I know your face, Gundam pilot!"

Heero hissed, "What is it to you?"

"You thought you were hunting me, but I was the one who was hunting you! You took down Romefellar and Mariemaia, and you should have killed me when you had the chance!"

Heero said nothing.

"You're the only one who can stop me. Once I get rid of you, I'll bring ESUN to its knees!" Carter howled.

Carter whipped his machinegun to the side, but Heero fired two rounds into Carter's helmet first. The shots stunned him and caused him to spray the machinegun wide. Before he could recover, Heero shoulder checked Carter hard into the wall, knocking the wind out of him.

Stumbling to his feet, Carter raised his weapon again, but Heero was gone. The intruder gritted his teeth and stomped deeper into the house.

Heero stalked through the shadows. He had to figure out a way to stop Carter fast. The armor made his pistol near useless, so Heero had to find another way.

Carter crept smoothly but quickly through the halls, his heavy bootsteps leaving a crunch with every move. He rounded corner after corner, but there was no sign of the Gundam pilot. He arrived in the kitchen. It was empty.

Just as Carter turned around, Heero jumped out and kicked the machinegun hard out of Carter's hands. The weapon was flung wildly into the air but was stopped by the shoulder sling. The mass of the gun caused the sling to whip to the side, throwing Carter off balance.

Heero snatched the sling out of the air and flipped it around on Carter. He pulled back with all his strength, causing Carter to arch backwards. The two men fought for footing, crashing into several walls and knocking all kinds of cooking utensils to the floor.

Carter was being strangled by the sling. He grabbed hold of the strap and struggled to free himself, but the two men fell to the ground. The pressure was starting to crush his throat, and Carter could feel himself start to black out. He let go of the sling and reached for the knife on his belt. He sawed desperately at the band until it gave.

Heero's grip slipped loose when the sling snapped in two. He rolled away from Carter who turned around and swung at him hard with the knife. Heero was just out of measure.

Carter struggled to his feet. He coughed and sputtered trying to recover his breath.

Heero presented a stiletto dagger and paced forward instantly. The anti-riot armor used layers of cloth and kevlar to absorb the energy of a bullet, but the material could be pierced by a sharp blade. Heero shot the dagger out to threaten Carter. Carter had good reflexes, but the armor slowed him down by a fraction. Carter parried the dagger with his knife and redirected his weapon to return a cut.

Heero stepped into the attack and caught Carter's arm, locking Carter's knife hand.

Crap, this guy is fast! Carter thought with alarm.

With his free arm, Heero punched Carter hard in the neck and face with an open palm. The helmet stopped most of the force, but then Heero put both hands on Carter's shoulders. Heero pushed Carter down while Heero brought his knee up into the middle of Carter's chest.

The blow rocked Carter to the core and caused him to drop his knife. Before Heero could bring his dagger point down on the other man, Carter tumbled backward out of the way and fell on his backside.

Carter couldn't breathe, but he drew a handgun from a holster on his belt. He let loose two bullets as Heero dove to the side. The shots missed. Heero tossed his stiletto dagger like a missile in return. The blade punched into Carter's thigh, causing him to grimace and hiss.

As Carter struggled with the dagger, Heero rolled onto his feet and fumbled for anything he could use. He brandished the cast-iron skillet from the kitchen stove as Carter came back to his senses.

Carter fired another two rounds, missing one shot, but the other was dead-center. In the same instant, Heero reflexively lifted the pan in front of him. Both men were bewildered as the pan deflected the bullet at a shallow angle in a bout of frantic chance. The sharp ping of the pan and the ricochet of the bullet rang through the whole house.

A whole second passed as they realized the bullet had been deflected and Heero wasn't dead.

Carter raised his pistol again, but in the same instant Heero flipped the pan reverse-hand and hurled it in Carter's direction. The 20-pound instrument sailed through the air and collided with Carter's shoulder, crushing his collar bone instantly.

Carter fell over and howled with pain. Heero turned on his heel and sprinted from the kitchen.

The other man writhed on the floor, cradling his shoulder. It hurt so sharply that he vomited in his helmet. Carter ripped off the protective gear on his head and screamed again in agony. He wiped the spittle from his mouth and struggled to his knees with a groan.

Carter looked around the kitchen before spotting the machinegun he cut loose before. He knocked aside an egg whisk on the floor before scooping up the gun and trotting out of the kitchen.

He stumbled through the house in search of the other man. He was delirious from pain and adrenaline. Despite all his advantages and preparation, he was broken underneath his armor in at least five different places.

Jen heard all the commotion from her closet. She was shaking, but she could barely allow herself to breathe to make as little sound as possible. She peeked out from the shadows, knowing Heero had told her to hide, but she didn't know what good that would do seeing that the guns obliterated her room, walls and all. She ducked back and froze when she heard someone coming close.

Carter panted with exhaustion and rage, "Come out, you bastard!" He swallowed to try to wet his dry throat. He peeked into the bedroom, seeing nothing, and stumbled away.

"Come out or I'll find that bitch and kill her first!"

There was no answer. Carter stomped through another two rooms and ended up back at the kitchen. "It's no use hiding. You can't stop me," he called out. Bang. Bang bang bang. Carter fired his gun into the ceiling to scare out anyone from hiding.

Suddenly he heard the Gundam pilot shout from another part of the house. "Isn't it me you want? Leave the girl out of it!"

Carter creeped along as he followed the voice. He called out in refusal, "No one will ever see her again."

"You're obsessed," Heero yelled out from a different room.

Carter rounded another corner. "Doesn't everyone want someone to accept them? Doesn't everyone want someone to look up at them with admiration?"

"I don't need someone else's approval to live my life," Heero answered, slipping through the halls like a shadow.

"Look at you!" Carter shouted from the front door again. "Fighting to the death for her! Do you think she cares about you? She's just using you! Even if you save her, she'll abandon you the moment she realizes you're useless. She'll toss you aside, just like how society tossed me aside when it didn't need soldiers anymore!"

The Gundam pilot called out, closer than before, "I want to give people that second chance, even if I'm not needed."

"You're hopeless!" Carter accused the other man as he met Heero face-to-face in the garage.

Carter raised his machinegun at Heero. He wouldn't miss this time. Heero had a weapon as well. It looked like a flare gun.

"What can you hope to do with that!" Carter laughed. "It's over!"

"It is," Heero agreed with an icy glare.

That was when Carter noticed the smell. And the sharp hissing sound. He looked down to his left to see a propane tank spewing gas into the room. His eyes widened.

Just as Carter put his hands up to cover his face, Heero pulled the trigger, firing the flare into the gas and engulfing Carter in a massive fireball. A tremendous blast ensued as the tank exploded, flattening the room.

---

"You blew up my house!" Jen was kicking and screaming. Heero had Jen slung over his shoulder as he was dragging Carter away from the flames by his boot.

"I blew up your garage," Heero corrected. "The rest caught fire on its own." Jen screamed at him again.

That was a long night. Firemen scrambled about the property. Carter was knocked unconscious, and his left eardrum was blown out, but he was alive. Emergency workers cut Carter out of his melted body armor. He was sent to the intensive care unit to treat his many injuries.

Heero reported to the police that Carter Ashland was the Midnight Bomber and that he likely had other terrorist associates. The officers sent high-risk security to watch over Carter and to arrest him after he was treated at the hospital. Heero then argued with the firefighters about the root cause of the house burning down.

Jen sat alone on the curb, helpless. She was still wrapped in the same bath towel, though Heero had given her his Preventers jacket to put on over it. All of Jen's clothes were destroyed in the fire. She never imagined that she could lose everything so quickly. Not a thing was left. The fire destroyed it all. How was it that she came through this with another loss?

Heero came by and sat down with her. "It's over now," he said in an apologetic voice. "I guess the contract's done."

He looked at the poor girl for a moment. In the darkness, the fire gave her complexion a soft melancholy glow. Jen looked pitiable and lost.

"What's going to happen to Carter?" Jen asked suddenly.

"They're going to patch him up. Then he'll be in prison for a long time," Heero answered.

"I didn't know people could be so destructive," Jen admitted. "He sounded really hurt. I must have hurt him really badly."

"You were protecting yourself," Heero asserted. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"He was so damaged," Jen lamented. "I can't help but think I drove him that far. I shouldn't have fought back."

Heero scolded her softly, "If people did that, all the innocent people would disappear, and only the people who hurt others would be left. You have to protect yourself, even if it means harming your attacker. It's always been that way."

"I wish things were different," Jen said.

"You're being naive," Heero replied, looking away, "but I wish things were different, too."

"I thought he would be crazy," Jen started, "but a lot of the things he said made sense." Heero didn't say anything.

"Did you really mean all the things you said?" Jen asked Heero.

"You heard all that?" Heero questioned.

Jen nodded.

Heero scratched his head, digging for words. "I was just trying to lure Carter out into the open. It didn't matter what I said," Heero deflected. He said it with a straight face, but Jen could not help but feel that Heero's words to Carter were sincere.

"Thank you for sparing him," Jen said with profound honesty.

Heero was surprised. Most people who get attacked don't have a second thought for the people who hurt them. Some even call for the victimizer's death or torture. But Jen was different. What made her that way? Heero wondered deeply in his heart.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Jen asked.

Heero answered, "He has his second chance. He'll have a long time to think about everything." Jen nodded in agreement.

"What are you going to do now?" Heero questioned.

Jen's eyes were downcast, her voice quiet. "I don't know. I don't have anywhere to go."

Heero tried his best to think of some solution. "Do you want to call your friend to see if she can help?"

She laughed some at that. "Ramone's not a good person to call in an emergency. She and I would probably end up killing each other," Jen answered with a wry smile.

"The bounty for the Midnight Bomber will pay for the repairs to your home. You can take all of it. Insurance won't cover the damages because the fire was somewhat intentional on my part."

Jen turned to Heero, finally opening up to his efforts, but she said nothing.

"It won't be too long before they rebuild the house," Heero said. "This is going out on a limb, but you could stay with me. You can do that if there is nowhere else to go."

She gave him another long look.

Heero explained, "There's a lot of space there. I'm always out working, so I'll be out of your way."

Jen Aoki thought for a long time and considered the young man's generous hospitality. She was tired. The last few months had been brutal to her. Jen was ready to leave everything behind.

She answered with one word: "Where?"

Jen and Heero thanked the emergency responders before leaving the scene. Unable to borrow a pair of shoes from anywhere, Heero was forced to carry Jen most of the way while she held his briefcase for him. He did offer to give his shoes to her, but Jen didn't agree with Heero having his feet torn up, either.

It was deeply humiliating. She was a grown woman, not having been carried like this since she was a child. What it gave her was some time to think. Perhaps they should have seen Ramone before leaving. Her friend likely would have objected to Jen leaving, or she may have even decided to go along. The night had already been long enough.

Carter was a monster, Jen thought. A real, genuine monster.

But if he was a monster, then Heero was a bloody demon. Jen had no idea a single person could be so brutal, so effective, and so dangerous. But Heero was civilized. And he was kind.

As soon as they came to a lot of soft grass, Heero let Jen walk on her own to save some face. It was very dark. He gestured towards the treeline saying, "Our transportation's right through there."

"You have a terrible sense of humor," Jen replied. "I'm practically naked and you want me to walk into the woods with you in the middle of the night?"

Heero was flustered. "It's not like that," he said. Heero extended his hand. "You can trust me."

Jen was suspicious, but she relented and slowly offered her hand. Heero took hold and gently led her through. Jen clutched Heero's briefcase close to her chest as Heero navigated the terrain with a pen light in his other hand. It was surprisingly bright for such a small gadget, and it lit their path very well. Jen thought that Heero must have had in his possession all sorts of neat gizmos, but as soon as they reached a small clearing, she knew she had spoken too soon.

What lay ahead of them was a leo mobile suit with stunning white armor. It rested on one knee to keep its head below the tree-line, giving off the visage of a knight's suit of armor.

It had been nearly a decade since Jen had come this close to a mobile suit. The sight was awe-inspiring, but she took a step back when she remembered that mobile weapons were highly illegal under ESUN's policies. She didn't know what would happen to her if she associated with the mobile suit's owner. Jen looked over to Heero, wondering what he would do.

Approaching the leo casually, Heero noticed a pink slip tacked near the cockpit hatch. Picking the slip from the mobile suit's armor, he examined it with an air of tedium.

"'Parking violation'?" He wondered aloud and flicked the piece of paper away. "It doesn't even have a license number…." Heero opened the hatch to the cockpit, which unlocked with a hiss. He looked back at Jen. "Let's go."

Jen looked up at Heero. There was so much more to the world than what she knew. Her life of safety and mediocrity was an illusion. There was an underbelly of monsters and devils vying for the destruction or salvation of mankind. This man was proof of that. He had revealed the truth to her.

Heero operated at his own level and made his own rules. It was true, bonafide strength. Following him would mean that Jen, too, could take control of her world. She refused to be powerless and blind any longer. Everything would be different. Locking eyes with Heero, she could feel the confidence that he exuded.

Jen nodded firmly and stepped forward, taking Heero's hand. He put his arm around her waist as the winch lifted them both up to the mobile suit's control chamber. The cockpit hatch closed with a deep hiss as the giant rose above the treeline. Using its thermal jets, the mobile suit slowly rose into the sky and disappeared into the night.

Act I, Episode II: Belonging, End

-seraphic

Two strangers in a garden. The eternal pursuit of peace beyond the battlefield. Walls of guilt and masks of shame. Pain is the distance between people. Can two survivors of the bloodshed manage to heal each other? Next time on New Mobile History Gundam Wing: The Sword,

Act I, Episode III: The Heart in Solitude