Author's Note: Much of this chapter does in fact belong Sunrise. However, I did not feel that it could be skipped over with this story so I've kept as much of it as possible true canon, and added my parts to it. My thoughts/story will pick up closer to the end of this chapter and continue to the conclusion.
Also, please forgive me for any spelling errors which you may find. It's late, I'm tired, and I'll look over it sometime tomorrow. For now, I'm just glad to have gotten this far in the game.
"Evacuation! You can't be serious! If those battleships hit ground the entire world will be effected." Howard frantically pulled the designs of the two battle ships onto the main screen. "If those battleships enter the Earth's atmosphere and explode on ground, the initial explosion might be limited to a radius of a few hundred kilometers, but the enormous amount of dust spreading across the sky will block solar rays, resulting in a dramatic decrease in temperatures all around the world."
"That's terrible!" Relena exclaimed, shaken to her core. Milliardo can't be planning this. He just can't be! Her mind was racing, seaching for any alternative to the truth. Why would anyone want to destroy Earth?
"And people won't be able to live on the Earth any longer." Sally Po supplied, her voice trembling. So this is how it ends.
"The only way to avoid this is to change their orbit and blow them up in space." Howard concluded, hanging his head. "Both are next to impossible."
The cabin fell silent for a moment, the gravity of the conversation sinking in. All this, all the lives that had been lost, for this damned war to come to an end like this? The very breaths the of those in the room became heavy, a sense of dread, and loss taking over. Defeat, that cold enemy of all soldiers, now stood on their doorstep, his entrance inevitable.
"No." Une's voice shattered the brief silence like a bullet breaking glass. " We still have hope."
Heads whipped around, as confusion overtook the minds of all present. Hope? What hope could there be?
"There's a Gundam close to Peacemillion's main power supply." Une pronounced, scarcely able to contain her pride, smiling ruefully as officers scrambled to enhance the grid, showing a small, contained battle just beyond the edge of the destroyed ship.
"Is it Heero?" Relena inquired, rushing forward to gain a better view.
"No, I think it's 02."
"Duo." Howard's pride got the better of him. That's my boy. "Then they're likely with him. Well then, we still have hope."
Sally moved forward to grasp the back of an officer's chair, curiosity, hope, fear, all bundled into one trembling body as she demanded fiercely, "But where are the other Gundams?"
"There's too many mobile dolls moving about to know for sure." The officer supplied, his voice just bare millimeters above morose.
Sally's face hardened against the fear that threatened to overtake them all. It's up to you once again, Gundams. You hold the future of the entire Earth Sphere in your hands.
"Hey, they've stopped moving..."Duo muttered, confused and wary as the blast from the last mobile doll to fall at Deathscythe's hand receded into the cold darkness of space. His grip tightened on Deathscythe's controls, instincts screaming of foul play. This has to be a trick of some kind, his mind concluded. As violet eyes narrowed, scanning the visible expansion of space before him, a com link flared to life, revealing the stoic Heavyarms pilot. "Yo, Trowa!"
"I'll come and join you. I've completed my mission here."
Duo's face lit with a brilliant smile, as relief coursed through his veins. It had seemed inevitable that one of their number would fall in this battle...they had all defied the true Shinigami for far too long. Yet, he was not one to pass up the gift of a friend's life spared. "Roger that," he proclaimed, Cheshire grin flashing, his mood lifting significantly before his joy came to a crashing halt as he realized who was missing. God, if you're listening, please don't have taken Quatre. He pleaded quickly with his maker. "Where's Quatre?" his stomach lurched, his pulse flew, thrusting him mind and soul into the beginning stages of panic.
"I'm-I'm right here." Quatre's voice came, as Sandrock appeared beside Heavyarms. The pained tone in his voice was not lost on either of the listening pilots, nor was the effort it took for Quatre to bring his Gundam to an upright position. Come on, Quatre. Duo willed,calming his wildly racing heart. Hurt, but alive, his mind rejoiced. "Okay, when we're done here we'll celebrate with some expensive champagne." Duo quipped, a weak attempt to cover the turmoil raging inside from mere idea of losing his one of his best friends. Not only that, but if we lose Quatre, any further strategies will make us sitting ducks. Even Peacecraft knew that, The hard soldier, his self proclaimed Shinigami voice whispered within his leaping mind.
"S-sounds great." Quatre managed. "As long as it's non-alcoholic."
Com links returned to voice only, allowing Trowa to indulge in a moment of despair of his own, a moment to hang his head and succumb to the maze of emotions that gripped with an iron fist at his usually unfeeling heart. His fear grew at a rapid pace, pulse far faster than he'd ever felt as his mind swirled through a haze of unknown emotion, threatening to consume all that he was. Damn this war. His mind raged, as his fist closed around Heavyarms' controls in a vice that could have deformed metal. Make it, Quatre. You've got to make it. For the first time in a year, he found himself glad he was unable to see his love's face, certain the look of pain that was sure to be etched upon it would be his undoing. Quatre was right, as always. Duty first...duty above life, love, and liberties. It was the code beaten into each of their minds, the one thing the pilots had been trained to rely upon. The only thing they had been trained to rely upon. As the pair maneuvered their Gundams to face the exit of the bay, Heavyarms, Trowa silently prayed. I need you more than ever. Get us through this, my old friend. Get us through this so that I can save the one I love.
Boosters flared, the roar of engines drowned in the everlasting silence of space, heat pulsing, but lost within moments as the Gundams blasted from the bay into the pitch black sky.
"The battle you are witnessing has no significance to either Earth or the Colonies, but it is necessary just the same. Because in reality, it's a fight to save the Colonies. This year, in After Colony 195, the history of battle is finally about to come to an end. Unless these two continue to fight, peace will never be achieved. Can you feel it? Can you feel the misery of this combat? And can you see the peace that awaits us? This battle is making each one of us look for a solution to secure peace."
All of Earth and Space looked on as the final battle between Milliardo Peacecraft and Heero Yuy danced across public screens. A fierce display of raw power as two seemingly unwavering forces danced, metal pounding against metal, beam sabers clashing as they dueled to the death. Thousands of souls stood, mesmerized by the ballet before them, the reality of war settling in horrifying detail finally crashing home after years of idealistic views and politicians poetry being sang to them came to a crashing halt, the truth shining before them,as fear griped their hearts, as reality dawned. Yes, everyone knew lives were being lost because of very same beliefs...yet this display made it so much more real. Here and now, they could finally view the horrifying reality of war, the very reason soldiers were driven mad, driven deep into their own minds to battle demons of the past.
The power drive of Peacemillion proved to out rank the power of Libra, as it wrenched the ruined twisted remains of the once proud flagship of the White Fang from it's collision course to Earth. As the voice of thousands of Coloniests announced their desire to coexist with the inhabitants in earth, a chuck of ruined metal detached from the proud ship, a last testament to it's once proud organization, a final attempt to bow to the wishes of it's Commander Peacecraft.
It seemed to Trowa that his heart couldn't take much more of it's frantic pounding, as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Torn, Heavyarms raced along side Sandrock and Deathscythe, as they tried in vain to catch up to the falling chuck of spaceship. As his will screamed for his boosters to propel him through space faster, his soul sought out it's twin, the other half of himself residing in the broken form of Sandrock's pilot. Pain, fear, love, determination, Quatre's emotions stormed through him, rushing along their empathetic link, flowing through his body and mind threatening to overwhelm him. His heart cried out for Quatre to stay behind, to allow he and Duo attempt to destroy the shard. His mind, rebelled, protesting that the blond pilot would not consent to such a request, though the pain of his wounds grew considerably with each passing moment. Holding tightly to the link which bound them together, Trowa split his attention, overruling the soldier's voice in his head which warned him of the danger. He would not let Quatre's emotions leave him for a moment, for in that moment, he feared, he could lose everything he had come to hold dear.
"Damn. We're not fast enough!" Duo swore.
"We'll have to ruin as much of it as possible," Quatre choked out, "to reduce damages to Earth." Trowa, his heart called out, feeling his soul mate connect join with his as much as possible. We're going to come through this, Trowa. I can feel it. Steading his breath as much as humanly possible, Quatre dug deep within himself, beyond the reach of the agony he felt, digging down to the core emotion which had remained buried for so long. Projecting all the love he held for the other pilot, Quatre reached out, drawing strength from their bond. Just a bit longer, my Trowa.
They torn through the block of spaceship with a vengeance, emotions running wild, throwing raw power, desire, and sheer will into the task. In the end, they all knew it was too late. Hope of success seemed too far away, as they fought a losing battle with the hunk of ruined metal. When the Maganac Corps added their superior power to their task, Quatre could have sang, Trowa along with him as he felt the relief run through his love.
In the end, though, it was Heero who ended it all as they failed to completely destroy the final part of the block. Heero, the heart of outerspace, had been willing to sacrifice everything, even his life to save Earth. Defying death on final time, Heero launched Wing Zero into the Earth's atmosphere, blowing the shard from the sky with his buster rifle, bringing the war and all it's remains to an end with a cannon blast and a sky filled with shards streaming through the night sky.
The war was finally over.
Mission Complete.
"Jesus Christ, Trowa. You look like shit!" Duo exclaimed, violet eyes wide as his gaze fell over the unmoving figure tucked into a chair, dark against the brilliant white of the Colony M02 hospital room.
Even as relief flooded through him, paired with gratitude at the arrival of his closest companions, Trowa willed his gaze to stay on the sleeping form before him. Pale blond struck out, the only real color displayed on the bed, as Quatre slumbered quietly before him. So pale. Trowa worried, frantically though his body remained rigid, in check with his wishes. He's slept so much. Could I have been too late bringing him here, after all?
"Status?" Heero deadpanned. Trowa allowed a smirk to grace his features for only a moment, as he gratefully slipped into his soldier mentality, forcing out all emotion as he delivered the doctor's diagnosis to the visitors quietly standing at the foot of the bed.
"His doctors expect him to make a full recovery, as long as he continues to rest once they release him. He'll stay here for a few more days...his blood loss was significant. They want to monitor him to see if he'll need any more transfusions." Trowa explained quietly.
Heero jerked his head in one stiff motion, earning a grimace from his braided lover at his side, though Trowa continued to appreciate the distraction from his own thoughts. Here, in this mentality, Trowa found himself slowly returning to reason, able to block the consuming emotions that threatened to pull him beneath their waves and drown him in their hidden undertow.
Duo's more exuberant side began to surface, as he hopped lightly from one foot to the other, dancing as much as he could in the relatively small space granted to him.
"Great. Told you he's more stubborn than to let a little prick in the side...damn it, Heero!" Duo gasped, Heero's elbow colliding with exact precision into his side. "I mean, he'll be fine, Tro. You, though, you look like you're going to fall out of that chair at any moment."
Trowa shifted slightly, finding no reason to suspect a loss of balance. Or maybe this is another one of Duo's many "catch phrases".
"Have you slept at all since that last fight?" Duo demanded, throwing hands dramatically onto his hips, dancing out of Heero's elbow range. "Ha! Missed me!"
The urge to elbow the braided American himself began to swell, though Trowa found himself ever so slightly amused at the antics before him. Pinching the small space between his eyes, Trowa felt himself unable to overcome the newest wave of fatigue. It was true, he'd yet to sleep since before the final battle. He'd found himself incapable of reaching any form of comfort whilst Quatre slumbered in the drug induced sleep provided by the drugs his doctor had admistered by IV.
"Negative. I want to be here when..." his voice left him. Even now, despite glowing reports from the medical staff, Trowa could not allow himself to feel any form of assurance. Not until he opens his eyes.
Duo glanced quickly at Heero, who nodded briefly as their conversation passed without a word spoken. Heero melted into the hallway shadows, as quietly as he had come, as Duo moved to kneel before the tall pilot's seat, concern etched into every line of his boyish face. Trowa found himself staring into those fathomless violet depths, wishing for the Cheshire grin, the wild spark in Duo's eyes...anything, anything that might take away even a moment of his worry.
"Listen, Tro, you're not going to do him any favors by going without sleep." Duo urged quietly, carefully.
"I can't sleep, Duo. I know the nurses will keep an eye on him, yet..."
"But it's not the same as your own eyes." Duo's rueful smile blossomed across his face, though no mirth lit his eyes. "I know, man. I'd feel the same way if it was Heero laying on that bed. But," Violet eyes scanned the room quickly before returning to peer into emerald orbs, as he shrugged. "You've got to admit. There are certain benefits of spending time with Quatre Winner. This private room, for example, with an open bed sitting right behind you."
Trowa could feel himself giving in, pulled under by the overwhelming fatigue, despair, and worry. He sighed, as his mind registered the fact that he seemed to be losing quite a few of these arguments as of late. "Duo..."
Heero reappeared in the doorway, silent as a ghost, carrying an extra chair, which looked as hard and unwelcoming as the one Trowa had been seated in for hours, and a worn duffle bag tossed over one shoulder. A determined look shown from his blue eyes, a veiled threat that he would get his way, should the attempt by his lover prove to have failed.
Duo winked at him, a small attempt to regain some of his natural persona. "No sweat, Tro-man. Heero and I've got this. You just lay yourself down over there and grab some z's, we'll watch Quatre."
Trowa sighed, the battle lost. In truth, he knew his body would not hold much longer against the growing fatigue, and he could not accurately recall when he had last slept.
"Very well. You'll..."
"Wake you if something happens. Yeah. No worries, lanky." Duo assured him, shoving him from the seat mercilessly. Trowa stood, untangling himself from his own limbs for the first time in what seemed to be an eternity. Two days of sitting nearly motionless had left his joints and muscles aching, a testament to the tension he'd not been aware he'd been holding himself together with. Running his hands quickly over his face, he trudged slowly spare hospital bed behind his seat, settling slowly onto the unforgiving mattress and limp pillow. A glance in his love's direction and a careful, swift, yet through check at the monitors assured him that Quatre was indeed still far from harm's way, as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be drawn under into a deep slumber of his own.
"You really should stop interrupting people." Heero softly chastised Duo, once he was certain Trowa had drifted deeply away from them.
"Eh, what's the point. You all love me, even if I'm a bit annoying." Duo quipped back, unconcerned by the criticism he knew his lover only meant in a lukewarm fashion.
"Hn." came Heero's response, as the Japanese man folded himself more throughly into the chair at Quatre's bedside, prepared to watch and wait as long as necessary.
Duo snickered. "Scowl at me, all you want, He-Man**. I personally know for a fact that you love me, even when I'm a little shit."
A moment passed, before Heero asked softly. "What's He-Man?"
In the arms of comforting sleep, Trowa fought back a chuckle.
**For those of you who are not familiar with the older Mattle characters, He-Man is the lead hero in the Masters of the Universe. Here's a link to the wikipedia page (yes, I know its not the most reliable source, but hey, I'm not writing a story about He-Man.) so that you can check it out if you're curious.
/wiki/ Masters_of_the_Universe (take out the spaces)