Heero was crouched on a rooftop turret overlooking the balcony of the Palace of the Nation, his eyes scanning every stray movement from the guards stationed below. Icy wind whipped at his long bangs, sending them into his eyes, his black hooded trench doing little to shield him from the elements. The day was raw. He would be relieved when this was all over.

His body went rigid when he caught a glimpse of pale pink and honey blonde coming into view.

Heero cocked his semi-automatic rifle and lined up his scope with the back of her head. She was walking up to the podium, flanked by two male bodyguards in matching black suits. The audience that would be listening to her speech had yet to gather, security keeping the crowd at bay until the scheduled time. Heero couldn't recall why Relena would be taking the stage so early. Perhaps she was just trying to prepare herself.

He could wait for the actual speech, when her assassination would be broadcast around the world and colonies, and therefore have the maximum impact. But Heero couldn't pass up the opportunity before him. How long had he been waiting for the right moment? This was it. The timing couldn't be more perfect.

He would take her out now and be on his way. Then, it would all be over.

He braced his finger on the trigger, ignoring the way his throat tightened and his chest constricted. There could be no hesitation this time; he wouldn't allow it.

Relena must have heard or sensed something. She angled her head, and although Heero knew she wouldn't be able to see him from where she stood, damn it all if she didn't know he was there, somehow. If she had any idea what he was about to do…would she even be all that surprised?

Maybe she would. After all, he—

He pulled the trigger before she could finish turning her head. Before he could change his mind.

Heero's shoulder pulsed from the force of the weapon firing, like he was out of practice. He gritted his teeth and watched in heart-stopping slow motion as the bullet sailed through the air and met its mark with deadly accuracy.

He turned his face to look away, but forced his eyes to stay with her. He would face what he had done. He kept his gaze trained on her lifeless form as it crumpled, before her useless bodyguards could even catch her. He stared at the back of her head, the portion of her skull that had blown apart in a burst of tissue and blood that was now pooling all around her, darkening the stage.

Heero's breath caught, his eyes bulging as he surveyed what he had just done. Finally. It was over.

He sank to his knees and pressed a hand to his chest. His heart squeezed, his lungs burned. He couldn't breathe. He ripped off his coat and threw it aside. He was burning up, and yet he was cold. So cold.

"Relena..." Her name came out as a strangled sob. He reached a hand up to his face; his cheeks were wet.

"I'm sorry," he rasped. "I'm so sorry."

His core was rocked with an unfathomable pain, and he clutched his hands to his abdomen. He forced himself to raise his head, to draw in a rattling breath.

He'd done it. He'd really done it.

Now, he had to go back. Finish what he'd started. He expected the world he knew would look a lot different upon his return.

A world without Relena Peacecraft.

His eyes were still damp as he closed his eyes again, this time willing himself to concentrate. He pressed his fingers to his temples. His vision swam with computer codes and circuits. He sharpened his focus until he could see the room his form was in, lying on a glass table, connected to wires, a helmet over his head.

Four decades in the future from this present moment, the Zero System allowed him to access his own memories, as long as he was connected to its supercomputer. From there, it was as simple as opening up a file and scrolling through various images until he landed on the moment he wanted to revisit. However, not every moment in his life was accessible to him. And some moments were fixed in time and unable to be altered.

As for the moments he was able to revisit, his time in the past was limited. There was no way of knowing whether he had minutes or hours to spend at any given point in time. His best bet was to do whatever he needed to do, then get the hell out.

Now, his consciousness was ready to return to his body in M.C. 22. Visualizing his form, hooked up to the Zero System, he prepared to make the leap, then—

Hard steel pressed against the back of his neck.

"Found you."

He froze at the sound of his own voice.

Heero opened his eyes, and the vision of the control room and his supine form on the table dissipated. Once again, he was staring at the stones on the turret where he'd been hiding.

Back in March, A.C. 197.

Behind him, he heard his voice coming out through gritted teeth.

"Who the hell are you?"

The pistol struck the back of his head. Hard. He winced at the blow, but otherwise didn't move.

"Speak, damn it!"

Heero craned his neck and turned his head toward his assailant.

He was staring up into his own midnight blue eyes, burning with fury. Until those eyes jerked wide in horror and recognition.

"What the..."


A/N: Hi friends, sorry for the disturbing chapter, and that I've been sitting on this one for a while. Hope you're ready for more craziness! Thank you so much for taking the time to read and review, it really means a lot!

Hugs!

-RFP