Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ A mirror's reflections ❯ A mirror's reflections ( Chapter 1 )

A mirror's reflections

~ * ~ * ~

Rating: PG, just to be sure.

Pairing: None; implied past 13x6 and past 13x5

Warnings: Death of a main character (although I don't think it's, by common definition, a 'deathfic'), implied YAOI, presence of OCs

Disclaimer: Not mine; no money made. Don't sue.

Spoilers: The Series and 'Endless Waltz'

Author's notes: Set after the Series and 'Endless Waltz'; Zechs has gone to Mars and come back.

Feedback: heartfelt comments and critiques are always welcomed.

Special thanks to Reverand Maynard for her kind comments and suggestions. All remaining mistakes are mine.

~ * ~ * ~

There's a child running through the fields.

He's crying, a silent plea on his lips.

The sky above him is darkened. The gathering clouds don't allow the sunlight to reach him, and the darkness scares him. If only he had someone with him, someone to share this bloody fate. But he's alone. He has always been.

The wind starts to blow, cold and dry, and soon he's breathless. He stops, shivering, still crying. And he hears it. A soft whisper, carried by the wind. It murmurs to him: "I'm coming..."

He turns around, his heart pounding, and he sees it: a black bird flying toward him. It's still far away, but he can see the greedy light in its eyes. It's coming to devour him.

And there's no escape anymore, for he's standing on the edge of a cliff.

He has to choose: to face the enemy, or to jump over the cliff.

He has to decide now. The crow's coming, its almost upon him... It yells next to his ear...

~ * ~

He sits up abruptly in his bed, sweaty and out of breath. Next to him, the phone rings.

He needs a few seconds to regain control of himself. He runs a hand over his face, and picks up the phone.

"Merquise," he says in a whisper.

"Gee, man, you took your time!" a cheery voice answers, and he sighs, more disgusted about such a loud, early good-mood than actually irritated.

"I was sleeping."

"Huh... sorry, I guess, then." But the voice betrays the words. He almost sees the large grin that must be stretching Duo's lips.

"No need to. What is it?"

"The lady requests your presence. In an hour."

"I'll be there," he says before hanging up.

He pushes the covers aside and gets up, heading for the bathroom. But after a few steps he feels suddenly dizzy; and before he fully realizes it, three red drops fall to the floor.

Blood.

He looks up at his bed, frowning. The pillow is stained with tiny red spots. An annoyed sigh escapes him. /Not again./ He enters the bathroom, wiping his nose clean without really thinking about it. These nosebleeds are always over before they fully begin, after all. No need to alarm anyone. He'll just wash the pillow. For the fifth time this month.

~ * ~

"It's a murder."

He sits in Lady Une's office. She stands straight behind her desk, hands crossed, a very matter-of-fact expression on her face. She looks directly at him, even though the five Gundam pilots are next to him.

"Although the Preventers usually don't take care of business like that - we leave them to the local police - this one requires our attention."

"Why?" he asks quietly.

"Because it involves the family of an important peace-oriented leader, Damon Welsh."

"I see." The man is important enough. He's one of the few who works eagerly with Relena to promote and maintain peace throughout the Earth and the colonies. After the 'Mariemaïa incident', such people are very well considered - and protected. "What happened?"

"Colin Welsh, Welsh's son," Wufei answers in a cold voice, "discovered, earlier this morning, the body of Catherine Welsh, Welsh's second wife."

A silence follows Wufei's statement. He's probably supposed to say something meaningful, but nothing comes to mind.

"Since Wufei has taken the first call and has already made arrangements," Lady Une continues, "the case will be his." She pauses, looking briefly at the Chinese pilot before staring back at him. "But he could use your help."

A little smile stretches his lips. He's fairly sure the pilot in question disagrees with that last sentence. "Why?"

"Because Wufie is a little cranky today, and he could use some lessons of diplomacy," Duo answers, a wide grin on his face and his eyes sparkling.

"Isn't Quatre able to do that?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Quatre replies, smiling slightly. "And besides, Mr Welsh actually asked for you."

"For me?"

"Yes," Lady Une finishes sternly. "He claims he'll feel more confident in our potential results knowing that a Peacecraft is working to solve the crime."

His hands become uncomfortably cold, but he forces a polite smile. "I'll do everything I can to help."

~ * ~

It's a beautiful, woody domain. The large, cobbled aisle that leads to the main entrance is borded with tall, large oaks. Their shadows refresh him from this sunny morning as the car advances under their darkened shelter.

Wufei sits next to him, totally silent. The pilot hasn't said a word since they got in the car, but he understands. They never got along very well. Wufei despises /hates?/ him, and he... doesn't care.

The mansion's double doors open as they get out of the car, and a man walks down the porch to greet them. He is tall, almost royal, with steel-grey hair and piercing, alert black eyes. Damon Welsh. "Welcome, Milliard, and thank you for coming so soon." The old man discards Wufei completely.

"I wish we'd met in other circumstances," he answers cooly, his voice flat. "All my sympathy to you and your family."

Damon Welsh smiles - but it's faked. He can feel it, just like he can see the haunted look in the man's eyes.

They enter the mansion. From the paintings and the tapestries on the walls to the large, white marble stairs - everything speaks of wealth, inside. And of something else. The heavy silence, broken only by the sound of their footsteps, is strange, even for a mourning house.

"I suppose you'd like to... see her first," Damon Welsh says with uneasiness. "One of your agents is already with her."

"Sally Po?" he asks Wufei.

"Yes," the Chinese man answers, without any other explanations. Then, he turns to the old man and adds dryly: "And yes, Welsh, we want to see her."

He sighs. No diplomacy at all.

They're led to the library - a small, lightened room - and he remains on the doorstep as he observes the scene. Books cover three walls, resting on wooden, artistically carved shelves. A large window occupies almost all of the east wall. The curtains are pushed away, and the window is ajar. The sun and a small breeze fills the place, emphasizing the oddness of the body lying on its belly, on the floor. The blue, silky nightgown, the blond hair and the pale skin amidst a pool of drying blood - rather than sicken him, the picture makes him frown.

"So, you finally made it," Sally greets them, kneeling next to the corpse. She stands up slowly, pulling away her plastic gloves. She looks tired.

"What can you tell us?" Wufei asks, joining her.

"Well, nothing definitive, not before the autopsy, of course. But I'm fairly sure she died from the single stab there," she points out the darkened spot under her left shoulder, "though the weapon hasn't been found yet. The heart must have been punctured. I believe she was killed last night."

He nods silently, walking away from them. Wufei still probes her for more information, but it doesn't interest him. Glancing around, he sees Damon Welsh having a whispered discussion with his old butler. The peace leader is pale and serious - but nothing close to sadness oozes from him. The man is worried, even scared, but not grieving.

He turns away and leaves the room. Taking advantage of the fact that no one is paying attention to him, he starts wandering inside the mansion. But soon he feels himself being watched. Looking up, he sees a young girl observing him intently from the second floor - but as soon as she realizes he spotted her, she vanishes.

He climbs the stairs quickly, moving silently, and he reaches the second floor in time to see the girl entering a room, on his right. He follows her, but stops in his tracks abruptly as something else catches his attention.

It's an old wall mirror. About six feet tall and two feet wide, oval, with an antique gold finish that gives it a look from another era. It's beautiful, and he can't take his eyes off of it. As he steps closer, he notices small carvings, barely visible, on the finish. They look like strange letters, unknown to him. He tries to force some sense into them, but as he approaches the mirror, he perceives the smell of burning. Glancing at the polished surface, he stops moving completely.

It's Tallgeese II, fighting Gundam 05. Treize's last moments.

He blinks, and the picture disappears - but not the pain, and not the haunting thought that has accompanied him ever since the end of the war. /I was the one supposed to die./

"You should be careful."

Startled, he looks around. An old, wrinkled woman stands now next to him. She smiles gently at him, but the light in her green eyes makes him uneasy. "About what?"

"Sometimes, your deepest wish can come true - but the price is always high."

He frowns. He never liked riddles. "Who are you?"

She laughs shakily - an unsettling sound that sends a chill down his spine. "I could ask you the same question," she answers sweetly.

"No. You know exactly who I am," he replies instinctively.

"Yes, you're right, Zechs Merquise."

A strange warmth overcomes him at the sound of his name. She knows him - *him*, and not the ghost everyone else seems to see. His uneasiness vanishes away, and a little smile finds its way to his lips. "I still don't know who you are."

"I am Celia Hamort, young Lady Laurie's nurse."

"Lady Laurie?"

"Mr Welsh's daughter. After the death of Lady Selena, his first wife, Mr Welsh asked me to stay to take care of their daughter."

"Then it must have been her that I saw earlier."

The old woman smiles fondly. "Probably. She always roams the house. The sweetest child."

"Is her stepmother's brutal death difficult for her?"

"I don't think so." Celia's tone is much icier than before, but she tempers it with a small smile. "Laurie is schizophrenic. She can be very sensitive, but she doesn't realize what has happened yet."

"Can I see her?"

"Of course, although I don't think she'll be of much help to you. Come with me."

She turns around and he follows her through the corridor. The mirror isn't the only ornament that adorns the walls: small alcoves house a few, graceful statues, and a large variety of tapestries color this part of the mansion. But nothing catches his attention the way the mirror had.

"Here," Celia says, stopping in front of a half-closed door. "Laurie? You have a guest, darling." She pushes the door open and stands aside, allowing him to take in the whole picture.

Powder blue - it's all he can see at first. The walls, the curtains, the carpet: everything is powder blue. Except for the small girl dressed in white, sitting in the middle of the room. She's hunched over a piece of paper, drawing thin, blue lines on it.

He steps in the room, feeling somewhat awkward in this peaceful, cold realm. "Hi, Laurie," he says gently, but the child doesn't aknowledge him. "What are you doing?"

He crouches next to her, looking over her shoulder at the sheet of paper. A series of lines cross on the paper, creating singular forms. She has darkened some areas, and left the others white. "That's beautiful. What does it represent?"

But she doesn't even look at him, as if he doesn't exist. And that reaction of hers - or lack thereof, chills him, as if his suspicions since Libra's destruction /I am dead/ had been confirmed. He sighs and stands up, shaking the feeling away. She is locked up in her own world, and he doesn't have the key to reach her.

"I told you she wouldn't be of much help," Celia says, waiting at the door.

"I had to try," he answers with a polite smile.

The old woman smiles back. "I know. If you wish, I can show you the mansion."

"I'd like that..." He stops. A little, cold hand has taken his.

Laurie stands next to him, but she looks right at the wall, behind him. She holds her drawing close to herself. They stay there, unmoving, for a few, odd seconds. But then she breathes in deeply, and says, in a steady and loud voice that startles /scares/ him: "The door is opening."

"What?"

She doesn't answer - she hands him her drawing in a bold, almost violent move, and then flees out of the room silently.

"Wait! Laurie, what door?" But when he reaches the corridor, she has vanished.

"You shouldn't pay too much attention to her," Celia says as she joins him. "She lives in her own world."

"Does she take medication?"

"She used to. Lady Selena had her have injections... But Laurie quickly became lethargic. As I said, she's very sensitive at times, and she can be very perceptive, but the medication left her completely spiritless." She glances at him. "I knew the medication was no good to her, but Lady Selena thought otherwise. Mr Welsh decided to get her off of it when facial tics appeared, after Lady Selena's death. You see, this side effect can become permanent to some patients. And it can be... embarrassing."

"I see." So this little girl is an embarrassment to Welsh. He's not really surprised. "I think..."

"Colin Welsh is waiting downstairs." Wufei's voice interrupts him, and he turns to see the Chinese man standing at the top of the stairs. The pilot looks impassive, but he knows it's a mere façade.

"Go ahead. I'll be there in a few minutes." Wufei nods, spins around and walks down the stairs stiffly.

"A strange fellow," Celia comments.

"Yes," he retorts in an expressionless tone, folding the piece of paper and putting it in his pocket. "Thank you for your time, Madame."

"If you need anything else, let me know."

"I will." He bows politely and leaves her. He slows down briefly as he passes before the mirror, but the urge to stop and contemplate it /Treize/ disappears as soon as he steps down the stairs.

~ * ~

A door's creaking draws his attention, and he sees a young, blond man leaving discreetly /furtively/ the house. He thinks about going after him, but decides against it when he notices Wufei. The pilot waits for him in front of a closed door next to the library. His lips are pursed in a thin, pale line, and there is a glimmer of contempt /anger/ in his black eyes.

"What were you doing?"

"I was talking to Celia Hamort, Laurie Welsh's nurse."

"What did you learn?"

"Not much." He pauses, glancing at the door. "Is Colin Welsh in there?"

"Yes. His father insisted on your presence."

"I see." Looking briefly in the library, he sees Welsh talking with Sally Po. The man stands tall, but he knows it takes more than a cold composure to impress her. He's about to enter the room where Colin waits for them, but the Gundam pilot doesn't move. "Shall we?"

"This is my case."

The tone is dry, challenging. He almost shrugs, thinking, morose, that they're finally getting to what this little scene is really all about. "Of course. Lady Une has been very clear."

"Good." And Wufei enters the room briskly without another word. He follows silently.

The room's darkness clashes with the library's light. The curtains are pulled close, and a young man is sitting in a chair, upright and stiff. He doesn't stand as they enter; he simply watches them with a haughty look in his eyes.

Wufei sits in front him, and he stands in the background. He stays silent and discrete as the Gundam pilot takes control of the interrogation. "Colin Welsh," Wufei begins in a cold voice, "I'd like you to answer a few questions."

The young man flinches at the icy tone, but regains his composure just as quickly. "I already said what I know to the other agents."

"Well, you tell it to me now."

These words sounds like orders, and the tension in the air climbs a few notches instantly. Colin's eyes flash with anger, and Wufei's stance speaks of disregard.

"I found my stepmother, Catherine Roussy-Welsh, at about 4hAM this morning. She was dead. Stabbed in the back. I called the police - and for some reason, the Preventers ended up here." Colin's voice is dry, and Wufei tenses.

"And what were you doing, up at this early hour?"

"Like I said before," Colin answers, talking in a condescending voice, "I couldn't sleep and I was getting myself a glass of milk."

The tone is quickly turning from dry to sarcastic, and he grabs Wufei's shoulder just in time to stop the pilot from jumping on his feet. Taking a deep breath, he says to Colin, "Yes, that's what you said to the police. But we'd like the truth." His voice is calm and blank, and he's satisfied to see the younger man wince. Colin is unsettled; he can sense the fight in the boy's mind.

"I don't know what you mean. I told the truth." Colin's voice is still steady, but he glances briefly at the door.

"Your father is occupied with Miss Po. He won't hear you."

Colin's eyes widen before he can control himself. "I... I told the truth. I don't have anything to add."

He considers the young man sitting stiffly in front of him - terrified, but stubborn. "Your father doesn't approve of your friend, does he?"

"My... my friend?"

Colin's voice is shaky, all of a sudden. He is right, then - but no pride comes from that fact, only lassitude. He can feel Wufei's eyes burning on his skin. "The blond man that just left. He was with you tonight, wasn't he?" But Colin remains silent. The boy looks shocked - scared out of his mind. "We won't tell anything to your father. You are not the reason we're here."

"I... How... How do you know?"

"It's not important. We just need you to answer our questions. Truthfully."

"And if I don't, you'll tell my father? Is that it?" Anger is surfacing, red and hot.

He sighs, removing carefully his hands from Wufei's shoulder. "No, we won't. The Preventers don't work like that. But we'll take you with us to headquaters for further interrogation."

Colin stays silent for a few more seconds, then nods reluctantly. "I see." He turns and faces Wufei. "What do you want to know?"

And Wufei fires away - but the pilot's voice is calm and restrained, this time. No provocation. He's no fool, though. He noticed the storm contained in Wufei's eyes.

This pilot has fire in his veins instead of blood, he's sure of it.

No wonder he won Treize's heart.

That sorrowful /tormenting/ thought brings him back to the mirror, upstairs. To the golden finish that shines in the faint light, and the strange carvings. And the images he saw - or not. Did he really see Tallgeese and Gundam 05 last fight? Maybe if he checked back - just once, just to see what happens. Yes, he'll go back there and...

"Do you have anything to add?"

Wufei's voice is dry. Looking up, he notices that Colin is waiting for him to speak, a little paler than when they came in, but more serene altogether. "No."

"Then we're done here." Wufei hasn't finished his sentence when Colin is already up and gone.

"I'll go upstairs before we leave. I..." he begins, but Wufei interrupts him.

"Lady Une waits for our report."

One more minute won't kill her, he's about to say, but he stops himself. That's exactly what the pilot is looking for. A fight. With him. And a few years before /another life/ he would've gladly sparred with him. But not anymore - it's just too pointless.

"I'll come back later, then."

Disappointment flashes briefly in Wufei's eyes. "Let's go."

~ * ~

"Already leaving?" Damon Welsh joins them as they reach the front doors.

"We have everything we need," Wufei answers before steping outside the mansion.

"Milliard? I heard you met my daughter?"

"I did." From the corner of hi eyes, he sees Wufei stopping abruptly in his tracks.

"Well, I hope you didn't think too much of whatever she might have said. She's..."

"Schizophrenic, I know."

"Catherine..." Welsh's voive wavers briefly, but his expression remains neutral. "Laurie's health was very important to her. Catherine was supposed to meet a friend of hers next week about a new treatment. I suppose it will have to wait, now."

He nods, shaking the hand Welsh holds out to him. "We'll let you know as soon as we have something new."

Turning around, he sees Wufei staring at him, but he walks down the porch and gets into the car without a word.

~ * ~

There's the cliff again. The child stands on its edge, looking down in fear. Tears run down his cheeks silently, and he wipes them away with a trembling hand.

He doesn't know what to do. The crow's near, now; when the child glances back, he sees it distinctly. It stares at him, aiming for him. A large shadow follows it, and everything it touches turns to ashes.

It's close. He can feel the cold preceding it all around him. And then the whisper, murmuring: "I'm coming..."

The child shudders. There's no hope, and he's all alone.

All alone...

"Zechs? Come on, Zechs! Wake up!"

He opens his eyes with a start and sits straight in his chair. Blinking in confusion, it takes him a few seconds to realize that he's in his office. Duo, Quatre and Trowa stand around him, all of them wearing a concerned look on their faces. Heero stays behind, his expression unreadable.

He's fallen asleep on his desk. Nothing to be concerned about. So he's even more confused when he sees Quatre's eyes widening in horror and Duo stepping back in surprise. "What is it?"

"You... Your nose..." Duo mumbles in response, pointing at him and at the papers in front of him.

He looks down at his desk and his breath catches in his throath. His papers, his pens, his sleeves: everything's stained with drying blood, except, oddly, for Laurie's drawing, unfolded on his desk. Cursing under his breath, he reaches swiftly for a tissue and cleans off his face. "It's nothing," he explains. "Just a little inconvenience."

"Then you should have a doctor look at your 'little inconvenience'," Heero says dryly.

"I will," he replies dismissively, cleaning his desk. The report he started earlier is ruined. "Why are you here? Something has happened?"

"No," Quatre answers. "We were about to go out for lunch, and we thought you might want to come with us."

He looks up at the young man, frowning. He's known these men for a few years, now; and they work together often. The pilots are usually polite with him, but never so friendly.

"Considering what you've gone through this morning, we thought buying you lunch was the least we could do," Duo explains with a grin - but there's still a glimspe of uncertainty in his eyes. The blood has really alarmed him.

"I appreciate it, but I'll pass, if you don't mind." He shows them his bloody report.

"Of course," Quatre acknowledges. Then, after a slight hesitation, the pilot adds: "You'll see a doctor for your nosebleed, won't you? You've looked somewhat ill for some time, now."

He blinks, speechless for a second. Then he summons a smile and answers: "I will see a doctor. Have a nice lunch."

They leave him at last, after goodbyes and odd looks. He watches them go and then, focusing on his report, he chases doctors, nosebleeds and everything else from his mind.

~ * ~

His office is dark. The sun has set hours ago, but he hasn't bothered turning on the lights. He hears the thunder rolling in the distance. The rain's coming.

He sits, motionless, staring at the piece of paper unfolded on his desk. The darkness hides the drawings - he can barely distinguish a few white forms enlightened by the moolight - but he stares nonetheless.

The blue lines are moving.

It began in the late afternoon. He was sitting at the exact same place, writing the report Lady Une was waiting for. He had glanced up, pausing in order to phrase correctly what he wanted to say, and saw it. Laurie's drawing, with its blue lines connecting and its darkened areas. And for a brief moment, he saw the lines undulate. He hadn't thought much of it at the moment /result of fatigue/ and returned quickly to his report, but the piece of paper had refused to leave his mind ever since.

He's alone, now. He saw Heero leave earlier, and the Wing pilot is always the last to leave - besides him, that is. He thinks briefly about Noin, and he's relieved to notice that she gave up her attempts to "socialize" him, as she once told him on Mars.

Her friendship /love?/ belongs to the past. She's kind and caring, but a dead man can't really feel anything, can he?

It took her long enough to understand it.

And the lines on the sheet of paper keep moving. It's fascinating, really: he never thought he would actually witness his own descent into madness.

He shivers, but he's not sure if it's because of the cold or the forms appearing on the paper, partly hidden in darkness. He's noticed a pattern by now: the lines and areas shuffle on the paper before his eyes, blurring together into a greyish mass before getting a new shape - and showing him a new, clear picture. Then, after a few, motionless seconds, it blurs together, and the cycle begins again.

He's counted three different pictures up to now: a sketchy woman lying near stairs, a dark oval on a white background, and a strange, distorted monster.

The monster, he can understand. But why does he keep seeing a woman and an oval? One would think that he'd see, say, a mobile suit or Libra instead. Something he can relate to.

No. He sees a woman and an oval.

A woman and an oval.

An oval.

The mirror.

And the urge to observe it surfaces again. He stands up abruptly, and his chair falls to the floor. The noise breaks the silence violently, but he doesn't care. A simple truth has come to his mind : he shouldn't have left before having a look at it, this morning. No matter what.

He takes Laurie's drawing from his desk. He'll see it tonight, then.

A thick, warm drop falls on his hand, and another follows quickly, landing on the sheet of paper he's holding. He frowns, noticing the dampness on his upper lip. He wipes it and looks at his fingers under the moonlight. It's blood.

His nose is bleeding. Again.

He sighs, taking a tissue to clean the blood off before tossing it among the files scattered on his desk. He has no time for this tonight.

Folding the paper in his pocket, he grabs his coat and heads out of his office, leaving his chair on the ground and his bloody tissue on the desk.

~ * ~

It rains. A lot. As if a new flood was sent down to them, to wash clean this stained, impossible world.

The mansion is totally dark. No lights at all, and he's reluctant to knock. After all, what could he say? What excuse couldn't wait for the morning? But he refuses to leave before finally seeing it.

He's about to make up his mind to break the door open when it opens by itself. He steps back, tensing.

Celia Hamort stands on the doorstep, in her bathrobe, holding a candle in her left hand. "I was expecting you." She steps aside and he enters the mansion silently. He's completely wet, drops of rain and blood run on his skin to the floor, and his hands are becoming numb, but he doesn't care and neither does she. "Follow me."

She turns away and leads him through the hall. All the doors are closed, and only a few candlesticks on the walls shed some light. He wants to see the mirror badly, now - but he comes to a stop when he sees the stairs.

He sudders, and his breath catches momentarily in his throat: he hears faint cries of fear and words of anger from the second floor. Looking up, he sees two ghostly figures fighting at the top of the stairs. Two women - and as she pushes the younger one over the edge, the older woman looks down directly at him, with a cruel look in her piercing, green eyes. Petrified, he watches the graceful fall and the deadly landing of the younger woman, near the stairs, before the whole picture fades away into the shadows.

/Selena's death... Catherine?/

Celia turns to him. An odd smile stretches her lips, and the moving shadows caused by the candle gives her a strange, almost evil mask. "Is everything all right?"

"It's you," he whispers. "You..."

Celia's smile widens.

"Why?" The most important question of all. Not who, or where, or how. Why. The question that asks for a reason. The one question he would've died for the answer. There is so many unknown reasons in his life: White Fang, Libra, Sank. Treize.

Why, Treize?

"Is it so important?" She sighs lightly. "He can be such a fool at times, and my dear, little Laurie is so fragile..." A stern, cruel light appears in her eyes. "But reasons are meaningless. Sometimes, we have to take actions to protect those we love, even if it's against their will."

He looks at her /the monster/ and the despair that has been creeping into his soul for so many years lifts somehow. And he realizes that she's right. Why isn't important anymore: he has the opportunity to erase it.

"The mirror," he murmurs. Celia nods and resumes her walk. He follows her, stepping on the stairs without hesitation.

And it's there, a golden and mysterious oval. The carvings dance under the candle's moving light, looking much larger than before, and the polished surface shines brightly, almost like water.

A mirror? No. A door. An opened door.

He advances to stand just a few inches from it - and they both appear: Tallgeese and Gundam 05, fighting their last fight. Entranced, he watches them spar, and he sees the final strike, slowly and precisely, as Tallgeese is hit. And then, with a deep shiver, he sees it explode.

"No." He looks at Celia. "It wasn't suppose to end like this."

She nods, saying: "Sometimes, your deepest wish can come true - but the price is always high."

Her riddle isn't a riddle anymore. The child is still on the edge of a cliff, without any escape. But his choice is clear, now: he'll jump over. There's nothing left here for him. "I'll pay gladly."

"Then go."

He nods and smiles at her. His heart beats fast and his hand shakes a little, but he doesn't hesitate: he steps forward and goes through the mirror.

~ * ~

There are blinding colors mixed with a deep darkness at first, and a shrill sound that threatens to rip his mind apart; but it vanishes soon enough, and, stunned, he finds himself being strapped to a chair. Blinking and breathing heavily, it takes him a moment to notice the screens in front of him.

He's sitting in a mobil suit. Glancing over the commands, he identifies it. Epyon.

Frozen, he remains motionless for a second. Then he sees Libra's course on one of the screens. It's heading straight for Earth.

He just gave the order to carry forward the plan. Which means that somewhere, Treize and Wufei are still fighting. That somewhere, Treize is still alive.

Years ago, he waited for Heero's arrival, believing that his fate was linked to the pilot's. And he was still waiting when Treize had met his end.

Not this time.

In a swift, fluid motion, he releases Epyon's power and leaves Libra's structure. He hears Noin's voice asking something, but he cuts her transmission off; scanning his surroundings, he manages to spot Tallgeese and Gundam 05 while maneuvering Epyon through the fighting mobil suits.

He gets a glimpse of Wing approaching on a radar, and he tenses; if Heero's already out of Libra, then Treize's and Wufei's fight is almost over. He pushes the suit to its highest speed.

There. Right in front of him. Opening the frequencies, he hears parts of their last exchange.

"I can't stand the sight of you!" Wufei shouts in a fiery voice.

"Then come and get me now," Treize responds smoothly.

But a mobil suit appears in front of him then, and there's interferences. He almost screams in impatience and destroys the suit without blinking.

He doesn't notice that he just annihilated one of White Fang's suits; all he can think of is that this incident cost him precious time, and his breath catches in his throat when he hears Treize's words: "... none of these people have died in vain."

/No./ Treize flies forward, heading straight for Wufei. /No./ The Gundam Pilot prepares his weapon. /No./ Treize is getting closer to Gundam 05. /No./ Wufei's about to hit. /No!/

Everything happens within a few split seconds. He pushes Epyon beyond it's limits. Warning signals appear on the screen, but he barely notices them. The pressure increases in the cockpit, but his difficult breathing, the ache in his chest and the blood running down from his nose are the least of his concerns. All of his attention is focused on the two suits in front of him. In slow motion, he sees Gundam 05 moving forward, carrying his weapon toward Tallgeese. But he arrives just in time - just in time to push Tallgeese away and receive the full strenght of Wufei's strike.

"What?!" There's Wufei's stunned voice.

"Milliard!" There's Treize's horrified voice.

/Horrified?/ Apparently.

But it doesn't matter anymore. He did what he was meant to do. The core engines have been touched, and they're overloading quickly. He maneuvers the suit away from the others, breathing calmly, and smiling.

He's smiling. A wide, authentic smile.

And then, just then, during those few seconds before the explosion reaches him, before the fire comes and erases everything, he truly feels at peace.

~ * ~

Fin.

1

25/09/03