Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ A Missing Part ❯ Reunion ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

A/N: I forget what inspired this fic



A/N: It's kind of odd…when I first sat down to type this up I couldn't remember what inspired it. Then while I was typing I picked a random CD out to listen too and about halfway through the second page the song "Love's Recovery" comes on. BOOM! Suddenly I remember that this was the song that got my drama/angst muse in such a tizzy. Isn't it weird how things work out like that? Heh, anyway, this is an AU Gundam Wing fic, and as usual 13x6 centric. But there's actual plot and other characters show up for once! 'Course this first chapter is all Treize and Zechs.

Disclaimer: I don't own the bishies nor do I own any of the kick-ass women of GW. I definitely don't own any of the other GW females either. Please do not sue O great and glorious companies that do own GW, for you shall only get your own merchandise back.

Missing Part - part one: Reunion

Treize leaned thoughtfully against the marble balcony railing and stared out over the winding paths and carefully tended beds of flowers below. If he looked very hard he could see his favorite part of the garden, the rose beds, in the soft twilight. They looked the same as they always had from the balcony. They looked better than they had before in fact. Treize longed to go out into the garden and lie in the little clearing hidden behind the veil of roses. He longed to lie with Zechs out there again, among the rose petals and grass and be at peace once more.

Absence really does make the heart grow fonder. I thought I had gotten over this though.

It felt odd to be back on the balcony again after nearly five years. He had never thought he would be back at all in fact. It brought back a lot of memories to be standing there - memories of standing snuggled close to Zechs, star gazing and talking. They had often stayed out far into the summer nights, just standing there watching the fireflies dance in the garden below and talking about anything and everything. Zechs had been one of the few people Treize felt he could really talk to and possibly the only person to really understand him.

At least Treize had thought Zechs understood him. He had thought a lot of things in those days that had later been proved wrong. He had thought that they were soul mates, that they would last forever, and that nothing would be able to tear them apart. It had seemed so perfect then. Then their relationship crashed and burned in less than a week and Treize still wasn't sure why. They had fought and argued over what were really little things but those little things somehow turned into big things and those things had in turn become rifts between them. In the end they had never actually broken up they had just…gone their own separate ways. Treize had immersed himself in his writing and Zechs had left on the big trip he had been planning with some friends.

Treize glanced over to his left at Zechs who stood staring intently out over the garden. The five years since Treize had seen him last seemed not to have touched him in the least. He was as beautiful as always with his long platinum blond hair and blue eyes that were like an ice-covered river. Behind the ice there was, barely visible, the promise of passion, raw and untamed and utterly desirable, if only one could melt the ice that held it back. Treize had done that once, years ago and what felt like a world away. Things were much, much different now and he wondered if there was a chance that he might be able to do it again.

Probably not. We're both different men now. We've grown apart in so many ways and nothing can be the same now.

Treize turned his gaze away from Zechs and looked down at the half-filled wineglass held loosely in his hands. It was one of the ones that he himself had given to Zechs years ago. He wondered if the servant who had brought the wine knew that. He wondered if Zechs had noticed it too.

Just another reminder of the past... We fell apart five years ago. We crashed and burned. Hell, for me it was literal.

The white gloves he had taken to wearing were a constant reminder of that fact. Treize's eyes were drawn to the gloves, who's stark whiteness made them almost glow in the dim light. The gloves were a reminder of what had happened a year ago but so were the scars that lay beneath them. All in all, Treize much preferred the gloves.

Idly twirling the stem of his glass in his right hand, his good hand, Treize looked over at Zechs again. He didn't seem to have moved at all from his position with both elbows resting against the railing and shoulders hunched over slightly as he leaned forward on his elbows. There was tenseness in the way Zechs was standing and it was obvious to Treize that he was worried about something. Neither of them had spoken a word since Treize had arrived and Treize wondered if Zechs was planning on saying anything. The silence between the two of them was charged with forgotten emotions suddenly revived - love and hatred and so many others. Neither man wanted to break the silence.

Zechs always was stubborn like that. Then again I'm the same way at times. I guess that's why we fell apart.

Treize suppressed a sigh as he set his glass down on the railing. He didn't really want to be the one to break the silence. He was half-tempted to simply leave and let things go back to the status quo they had been at for five years. But he knew that in the end he wouldn't be able to leave without saying something. Even if that something were merely "goodbye" it would at least mean closure, if nothing else.

"So, what brought this about?" he asked finally, keeping his face carefully emotionless.

"Brought what about?" asked Zechs in return, his tone cool. He turned to face Treize, one hand still resting on the railing, holding his empty wineglass. With the other hand he tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear and looked at Treize expectantly.

"This!" Treize took a half step towards Zechs and made a sweeping gesture with that encompassed both the garden and the balcony with his free hand. "We haven't seen each other in five years and suddenly you invite me back for a drink?"

Zechs shrugged in response and turned back to watching the fireflies in the garden. There was silence and for a moment Treize thought he wasn't going to say anything at all.

"I heard that you were in an accident a while ago," he said suddenly, his voice soft. "A friend of mine mentioned it in passing. I wanted to see how you were doing," he finished vaguely. He reached up his free hand to tuck another strand of hair behind his ear as a soft breeze blew through. Treize unconsciously reached up and did the same thing with his own hair. He had been growing it out after the accident; it helped hide the scar on the side of his face.

Has Zechs noticed the scar? He didn't say anything…

"Well I'm just fine now, as you can see," said Treize, with a slightly bitter edge to his voice.

Zechs glanced over at him for a second then turned away again and looked down at the glass he held in his hands. Treize watched as the blond-haired man contemplated the crystalline depths of the glass. There was silence between them and it seemed to Treize that the whole world was holding its breath. He couldn't hear sounds from the garden, nor from the house.

"Yes, I can see that you are just the same as you were," said Zechs calmly. He turned away from the balcony completely and stood still for an instant. Then his arm moved in a lazy, graceful swing as he tossed the empty glass over his shoulder. Treize followed the arcing path of the glass with his eyes as it flew through the air only to be dashed to a thousand dimly glimmering pieces on the patio below.

Treize's eyes flicked to the left as Zechs moved again, this time walking inside to the sitting room that the balcony connected to. His gaze flicked back to the shards of glass below him. He looked at the remains of the glass for second then turned away and followed Zechs inside.

Treize found Zechs slumped in one of the dark, leather covered chairs in the room with one leg propped up on an ottoman. Barely repressed tension was evident in the set of his shoulders and the way his hands were clinched around the arms of the chair. Whether that tension was from anger or something else was impossible for Treize to determine as he took a seat in the chair opposite Zechs.

"Do you regret inviting me?" he asked, watching his former lover carefully.

"Yes. Yes, I do." Zechs didn't look up at Treize. "I can see that you are just fine. It was unnecessary to invite you. Summoning up old ghosts that should have been left to their rest."

Treize made a noncommittal sound and looked down at his wineglass. He didn't regret coming. He had missed Zechs in the five years since they had broken up and after the accident… After the accident the feeling that there was something missing - and not a physical part either - had only grown. That something, he had decided, could only be Zechs. Lost in thought, Treize twirled the stem of his wineglass around in his hands. He has resigned himself to the fact that any relationship with Zechs was over but now… Now perhaps there was a chance of…something. Friendship at least.

Treize twirled the glass around again and wine slopped over the side, staining his pristine white gloves with red. Treize froze. He stared at the stained gloves for a moment, then his hands began to shake. He couldn't help it, couldn't stop it.

Red…like blood…

Treize was nearly panicking as he hurriedly set down his glass on the small table next to his chair. With trembling, hurried hands he pulled at the red-stained gloves, desperate to get them off his hands. Finally he managed to get his shaking hands to cooperate and pulled the gloves off. He flung them away from himself and they landed on the floor in a tiny heap of white and red. Treize closed his eyes, refusing to look at them, and leaned back in his chair trying to forget again. The images wouldn't go away though.

He could see, just as he had a year and half ago, the blood covering his hands. He remembered the feeling of the blood running from the cuts in his hands. He remembered feeling the blood dribbling form the corners of his mouth and running down his chin and slipping along his throat, as he lay helpless in the wreck of his car. He couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't do anything. He was utterly, utterly helpless. The helplessness was worse than anything else was, even worse than the pain. After a while the pain had just become one big throbbing ache all over his body. But the feeling of helplessness while watching the blood slowly flow from his battered body didn't recede with time. It only grew worse.

"Treize? Treize, are you okay?"

At the sound of Zechs' voice Treize abruptly snapped back to reality. He opened his eyes to find Zechs leaning forward with one hand hovering just short of touching him. There was a surprisingly worried look on the blond man's face. After what had happened earlier in the evening Treize wouldn't have thought that Zechs cared that much.

"I- I'm fine," said Treize. Zechs arched an eyebrow at him, though he did lean back in his chair. However his expression plainly showed that he doubted Treize's words. "Really, I am fine," Treize persisted. "I just remembered part of my accident and it…shook me up a bit." He held up his hands to show that everything was in perfect working order. If anything this seemed to make Zechs become even more worried. He leaned forward in his chair again and caught Treize's left hand in both of his own. Zechs' hands were as smooth and elegant as Treize remembered them to be. The feeling of them touching his body again sent shivers of pleasure through Treize's body. Zechs pulled back slightly, taking the shivers for a sign that Treize did not want to be touched.

"No, it's all right. I was just remembering…other things," insisted Treize. Zechs looked uncertain for a moment then took Treize's hand in both of his own once again. Treize watched as Zechs slowly explored the scars on his wrist and hand. Soft, delicate fingers slowly ghosted over the slight bumps and ridges of the scars. Beautiful, graceful fingers, just as Treize remembered them. Steady, capable fingers that could hold a gun perfectly steady or do so many other wonderful, more intimate things. Much more intimate. It was only a small shock to Treize at that point how much he had missed the man's touch.

And here I thought I was totally over this. Silly boy.

He felt a twinge of regret as Zechs let go of his hands. The regret was short lived though. Zechs moved from his seat to crouch next to Treize's chair. Ever so carefully Zechs brushed back Treize's hair to reveal the long scar that lay beneath.

As scars went there were certainly worse. The cut had been from a large piece of glass and therefore relatively clean. Treize hadn't even realized that he had been cut there until later. Everyone had said that Treize should be thankful it was such a clean cut and that it would heal with without too much scaring.

Sure…without to much scaring. Any scaring is enough to remind me of my little brush with death. I could have died…all alone.

"It really was bad, wasn't it?" Zechs' voice was soft as he said it and his anger seemed to have melted away. His fingers ran wonderingly over the scar again. Treize's first instinct was to reach up and grab the hand and either pull it away or hold it tight and never let go. He wasn't sure which he would have done if he hadn't ignored the urge entirely. It was better not to do anything that might spoil the moment and set Zechs off.

"Yes, it was bad," he told Zechs in an equally soft voice. "I nearly died…"

Alone. All alone.

"Treize, I - " Zechs stopped short, seeming to suddenly realize the position he was in. He pulled back hastily and returned to his chair. There was a soft thump as he sat down heavily in his chair. He didn't do anything at first, just sat there with his head cocked to one side, looking at Treize. Whatever he was feeling was hidden behind his ice-like eyes. "Treize, I must apologize for my behavior," he said, suddenly snapping out of his reverie. He rubbed his fingers over the leather armrests on the chair, the only sign that Treize could see that showed that Zechs was nervous. "I didn't realize…" Zechs shook his head and took abruptly changed his approach. "I've been a very bad host. I shouldn't have been so cold with you." Zechs looked down, his long, golden bangs obscuring the expression on his face. Treize could tell that he was indecisive and uncertain about something though. "Would you…" Zechs looked back up, a vaguely determined expression on his face. "Would you please do me the honor of being my guest for the night? I've been such a bad host so far and it's late and dark and you have a long way to drive back…"

Treize hesitated for only a second before nodding.

"Certainly."