Disclaimer/Note: I do not own Gundam Wing, or any of the characters in this story (unless otherwise stated). Zero-zero/Maru Rei, for example, belongs to me. I do not own the series' creator, mech designer, or PHYSALIS, and I'm not making any money off this story. This story was written solely for entertainment purposes, and no copyright infringement was intended. Please, do not sue. All original concepts in this story are original (duh) and belong to me, or have had all rights handed over to me. Do not steal. This story is AC (Alternate Continuity), takes place (for the most part) almost five years after Endless Waltz, and contains: violence, language, angst, flashbacks, acts of terrorism and subsequent political brouhaha, religious references, twisted senses of morality, and an obnoxious timeline.
Better Than Nothing:
Chapter Ten — Accept Nothing
Duo was not sure if the moment called for the Ave Maria or the Pater, but he figured that as long as he was on his knees and his lips were moving, God would get the general idea. He was trying to pray. And maybe he did not know if he was asking for forgiveness or salvation, or just finally getting around to giving the Big Man Upstairs a heartfelt 'thank you.' Whatever his purpose, it was hard for Duo to pray. The last time he had tried to humble himself before the eyes of God he had been laying Father Maxwell to rest in the ruins of a Catholic church.
Needless to say, prayer was a painful, ugly affair for him.
But, lo and behold, Duo remembered how, and even remembered the old Catholic mantras from his childhood; could even say the damn things in Latin, of all dead languages. He was surprised, shocked to find the ancient words falling from his trembling lips. His tongue caught on some of the syllables, twisted them into entirely different sounds. He could not speak Latin, and he sounded very, very American when he tried.
None of that, though, was of any real importance to Duo as he knelt, hands clasped awkwardly in front of his face, mouth brushing his fingers every time he moved. He was just happy to be alive, and solemnly swore to God—whether he actually had any intentions of keeping this promise, even he did not know—that he would never again 'piss off another schiz-trip Jappo' so long as said Asian had access to a weapon of any kind.
"—Look, Trowa: I said I was sorry. What more do you want?"
"You almost blew my fucking brains out, Wufei! 'Sorry' just doesn't cut it!"
Ah, yes. Reality. Duo opened his eyes slowly, his vision met by the edge of the black table. He could hear two of the three others in the break room, and he could not help but smile, some of the fear and tension dissipating with the expression's arrival. Nothing could shatter the mood quite like two grown men bickering like little old ladies.
"Well, excuse me for not knowing that you had so much to live for."
"You shot at me."
Trowa seemed to be having a tough time accepting the fact that Wufei had nearly killed him. It must have been the first time outside of a Gundam that the two of them had had a confrontation ending in violence, Duo decided as he stifled a very relieved chuckle.
"And you were going to shoot Heero! Besides, you are overreacting, and blowing this completely out of proportion."
"Whose side are you on, anyway?"
"Side? Why does it always have to be about sides and loyalties with you people?!" Wufei had thrown his hands up in exasperation, and then crossed them angrily over his narrow chest, awaiting an answer. Duo pulled himself to his feet, trying to get his bearings once more as he surveyed the room for damage.
Trowa and Wufei were standing on the other side of the table, facing each other as they argued. A prone figure lay at their feet, messy brown hair and too-smooth hands a dead give-away. The perfect soldier, Heero Yuy, lay unconscious on the tiled floor with his weapon tucked into the waistband of Wufei's pants. The tall redhead and remaining Asian still had their firearms in hand.
"Maybe it's because you're a back-stabbing traitor, ever think of that?"
"Ooo. . . Don't you even start bringing war crimes into this, little boy."
"Little boy?" Trowa spat the words incredulously, like he could not believe what he had just heard. "I'm two years older than you, you snot-nosed little brat."
"Uhm. . .is anyone dead?" Duo posed the question as carefully and eloquently as he possibly could, given the current situation.
"Not yet," they said it in perfect unison, glaring death and daggers at one another. Duo let out a long, tired sigh. This was going to be a very, very long day. . .
"You know, it's said that perfect happiness is the absence of happiness," Maru commented idly, plunking down next to Quatre on the floor of the frigate storage unit. He shifted a little on the cold metal, trying to get comfortable before abandoning that effort in favor of continuing. "A very smart individual, Chuang Tzu, said that once. I think that I agree with him, don't you?"
". . .You really like quoting people, don't you?"
"Of course," Maru snorted, as if the answer to question was obvious and the question off-topic. He nudged his pale companion with his shoulder, rocking the Arab and nearly shoving the smaller boy over. "The purpose of words is to convey ideas. When the ideas are grasped, the words are forgotten—"
"Another Chuang Tzu?" Quatre interjected, glancing up from his list. Maru did not even skip a beat as he finished:
"—Where can I find a man who has forgotten the words? He is the one I would like to talk to," Maru offered him a smile, nodding slightly. "I like quoting dead people. Chuang Tzu, Tao te Ching, Lao-tzu, Buddha, Mahatma Gandhi, Confucius. . . All of them were very good, very smart men. They deserve to be remembered."
"They do?"
"Yes," the young man looked over to the boy, ruffled the uncombed tangle of blond hair somewhat affectionately, the way an older brother might. "They do. They've earned their immortality in the eyes of God, regardless of which God they worshipped. You see, God may not be forgiving, but that doesn't mean that He doesn't understand. Some people just don't have the opportunity to know God. That isn't their fault, and He won't hold it against them. He punishes the Wicked, but not always the Ignorant."
"Oh. . . That's good to know, I guess. What's the next stop?"
"C-1013, L1 colony cluster. We should. . .arrive tomorrow."
There was a long pause, and Maru sighed hopelessly, standing up again and studying the Gundams in the room with them. Quatre's blue-eyed gaze followed suit shortly after, though his brows were knit in confusion at the sudden change in the young man. What was wrong now? He was so tired of this; this running from colony to colony, and all the death and pain that he knew they were causing. Doubt filled his every thought, and he found that it was only getting harder to follow his friend's orders. Everyday, he awoke to himself wanting to ask when it would end.
"What's the matter, Maru?"
"You're not a very religious person, are you, Quatre?"
"I believe in Allah—"
"But do you really believe in anything, anymore?" Maru shook the hair from his smoky brown eyes, turning to the other with a look of pain evident in the quiver of his bottom-heavy lips. "You seem. . .almost lifeless. You're wandering without purpose!"— he cut the air in front of him with a broad, sweeping gesture of his arm. —"Don't you get it, Quatre? We are here to embody the transcendent! So why is it that you deny it? Why do you cut yourself off from life, from the ability to feel? You are dying inside because you can't bring yourself to accept what needs to be done."
". . .That's harsh, Maru, and it isn't—"
"Isn't what? Isn't true?" he turned sharply, stalked back over and snatched the list from Quatre's relaxed hands. "You want truth? I'll tell you a truth: a man cannot carry out God's will if he does not believe in God, Quatre. I am on a holy mission, given to me by both the Creator and God Himself. If you are not with me in this mission, then you are nothing more than a murderer at my side. The purpose will justify and excuse our methods, but there will be no salvation for the man who kills without reason."
". . .What if I don't know how to believe? Will your God understand that?" he snapped back angrily.
"They say that seeing is believing, Quatre. And you are about to get a vision from the Lord Almighty. Now get up."