Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Full Circle: A Zechs and Noin Songfic Series ❯ It's Been A While ( Chapter 3 )
Story by Lady Dante
~It's been a while
Since I could hold my head up high
It's been a while
Since I first saw you~
In a darkened hospital room, a solemn figure lay listlessly in his bed, numerous tubes protruding from pale flesh. He turned his head to gaze out at the dark sky. It was 2:00 in the afternoon yet, it was still nighttime here. It was always dark in space. Dark and quiet. The hospital was located on a deserted resource satellite floating aimlessly in space. An appropriate place for an aimless young man. He had been found three weeks earlier after having drifted in the void of space for five days. Near death and critically injured, the young man's prognosis had been poor, but still he lived. Every day that passed his numerous wounds healed a bit more, another bone knit, another patch of burned skin revived. He would survive…which was the last thing he wanted.
He spent the first few days of consciousness waiting to die, hoping to fade away. The thought brought forth the memory of a fairytale his mother told him when he was very young. It was the story of a woman who pined for something or someone for so long she literally wasted away to nothing. All that remained was her voice echoing in the wind. That was how he felt. He wanted to evaporate into the void of space and be free of the pain. That, it seemed, was not his destiny.
The patient brushed his fingers delicately over a charred picture frame by his bedside. He hadn't been able to figure out why he kept it. It should have been left behind along with everything else but, for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to let it go. The images contained in the ornate hinged frame were of a small boy holding a doll-like baby girl and another picture of the same girl, aged about 2 years. He ran a finger over the tiny curled head and allowed himself the luxury of remembering the day the photograph was taken. A day long ago, when he was still known as Prince Milliardo. It was his formal introduction to his baby sister, Princess Relena.
He had been a proud boy, but never more so than the moment his mother knelt in front of him, cradling his new sister. She trusted him to hold the tiny new life, impressing upon the boy his role as the baby's protector. He was the big brother. He was supposed to look out for her. He tried to do as his mother wished. He held Relena's hand when she learned to walk to ensure the little one would not fall. He carried her when the ground was muddy. He taught her all of the things he believed his baby sister should learn, but that had been a very long time ago, back when he had been proud to carry the Peacecraft name…before he became a disgrace to everything his family held dear.
~It's been a while
Since I could stand on my own two feet again ~
He lay in that hospital bed for weeks, wishing to die. His wish was not granted, his prayers ignored. Instead, he continued to grow stronger…physically, at least. Spiritually, he felt dead. He couldn't understand why the doctors and nurses continued to see to his recovery. It had to be obvious by now, even to them, that he did not deserve such consideration. If they knew he was once the leader of the White Fang rebels, they did not indicate so. To them he was John Doe. He tried to convince them he wasn't worth their attention. He ignored them when they spoke, kept his eyes closed when they changed his dressings. They just wouldn't take the hint. Each day bled into the next in one long, drawn out nightmare.
To top it all off, they were making him walk today. His damaged pelvic bones had finally healed enough for him to learn how to walk again. He didn't see the point, but they weren't giving him a choice. That day and every day after, he was forced to stand, to hold himself up and to walk. Physical therapy was brutal, the pain excruciating. After the first few sessions, the young man began to view the exercise as penance for his crimes. Yes, that was it. God didn't spare his life. He created this living purgatory as a means of punishment.
~And it's been a while
Since I could call you ~
"John Doe" looked at the small plastic band around his wrist, amused by the name. It was as insipid as any other he had taken. He sighed and looked up at the gray ceiling, trying to remember what it was like to be happy. He couldn't quite recall the last time he could actually say he was happy. Most of his life had been spent in the dogged quest for revenge. Such pursuits leave little room for positive emotion. Still, he hadn't considered himself beyond redemption. He upheld a code of honor and nobility which, if not strictly part of his father's teaching, at least proved that he was not completely lost. Even after following Treize into OZ, the young man continued to believe that happiness was possible-elusive, but possible.
Treize's obsession with liberating the world from the Alliance was one reason the former prince turned to him for guidance. Treize, the patron saint of the disenfranchised. The benevolent father-figure of thousands of young soldiers. Treize was a mentor, yes, but more than that. The young, dispossessed prince looked up to the older boy with the admiration of a younger brother. He wanted to believe in something, find a path, and Treize supplied both.
Through all of his machinations, Treize had held out the banner of hope to his followers. Hope for a new world free of war. The young duke never wavered in his beliefs, unlike his young protégé. Treize Kushrenada fought for what he believed up to the very end, giving his own life willingly. His Excellency had been rewarded for his dedication with a swift demise, while his friend and adversary was left to endure unimaginable pain. Who ever said there was no justice in the universe?
~And everything I can remember
As fucked up as it all may seem
Consequences that I've rendered
I've stretched myself beyond my means~
He had lived three lives already, and it would seem he must begin another, though he couldn't imagine living out the remainder of his pathetic life with a name like "John Doe." He would definitely have to come up with something else, but what? Both Prince Milliardo and Zechs Merquise were dead. Ambassador Milliardo had been a fool. Commander Milliardo was insane. What was left? It was his own fault. He should have been wise enough not to use his birth name at all. He certainly couldn't resurrect "Zechs Marquise" either. At least that name still commanded a small measure of respect, he didn't want to sully the memory. That persona was as close as he had ever come to being a good man. In a way, even with the mask and lifelong lies that accompanied the name, "Zechs Marquise" was his true self. The one person he would want to be again if it was possible. It wasn't possible, however, he knew that now.
~It's been a while
Since I could say that I wasn't addicted ~
Somehow, his guilt and worthlessness had become a source of power for him. It was that power that turned him from the noble knight of OZ into a raving lunatic determined to obliterate an entire planet. Commander Milliardo's reasoning, if it could be called that, was that he had nothing left to lose. He was already damned. Killing millions of people would not push him any further into the pit. He fed off his sense of shame. He was too bloodstained to ever hope for redemption, so he wallowed in his treachery. He became the villain to Treize's hero. Every knight needs a monster to slay.
~It's been a while
Since I could say I loved myself as well and...~
He and Treize threw the universe into chaos, turned the once serene star field into a virtual graveyard, tried to destroy each other and everyone ignorant enough to follow them. Treize was dead and he survived. Tens of thousands of soldiers and civilians had died. Old, young. Each life worth ten times his, yet he lived. The guilt festered inside his soul, eating away at what little self-worth he had managed to cling to after the war. God allowed him to live. God made a mistake.
He shifted painfully in his hospital bed and pondered how exactly to correct God's mistake. He was too weak to leave his room. Most conventional means were not open to him at this moment. He turned again as a nurse entered the room, chattering incessantly. She tried in vain to engage her silent patient in some conversation as she saw to his dressings and administered his painkillers. She placed the now empty needle on her cart and started to straighten the young man's blankets when she was interrupted by a commotion in the hall. She left quickly to see to the problem, leaving her cart behind. A cart full of bottles of medication.
~It's been a while
Since I've gone and fucked things up
Just like I always do ~
He mustered up enough strength to grab a bottle and hid it under his blanket just as the nurse returned. He lay still, allowing her to fuss over him a moment more, then watched her leave, calculating how much time he had before they checked on him again. He struggled with the lid, his atrophied muscles straining. Finally, the top popped off and he spilled the contents of the bottle onto his chest. One by one he swallowed the capsules, praying for release. He downed half a bottle of those pills, but not quickly enough. A nurse found him not long after and the hospital personnel pumped his stomach. He couldn't even kill himself properly. One more brilliant failure to add to the list.
~It's been a while
But all that shit seems to disappear when I'm with you ~
He recognized the voice immediately. The nurses had a habit of leaving his television on during the day, trying to provide some sort of stimulus for him. The news program played a recording of one of the first Preventers press conferences. She was there, standing dutifully behind Lady Une, of all people. Lucretzia Noin. After the Lady's surprisingly congenial speech, several new operatives fielded questions from the press. Noin spoke briefly on the role of the new organization, her voice an incongruous mixture of softness and firm resolution that was so indicative of the young woman's fine character.
As selfish as he knew it to be, he wished Noin were here with him. No. No, he didn't. She would find some way of convincing him that living was a good thing. She had that affect on him. Things were not as bad as they seemed when Noin explained them. She was the only person who could have possibly convinced him to turn from his attempt to destroy Earth. He had been glad that she refused to speak in those minutes before he fought Wing Zero. He knew Noin had the capacity to reason with him in a way no one else possibly could, but she had not spoken and part of him had been glad of it. He had not wanted to be talked out of his last sin. Just as light could not exist without darkness, good could not exist without evil. He embraced his chosen role as villain with every ounce of his maddened heart. The purity of Relena, Noin and others like them would shine brighter set against his dark malevolence…or so he allowed himself to believe. It was easier to believe he was only hurting himself. In the end, he muddied their innocence with his selfishness.
~And everything I can remember
As fucked up as it all may seem~
Relena had been lost to him long ago. Torn apart before they had a chance to form any real bond, they grew up in vastly different circumstances. Relena's world had been one of love, safety and comfort. His had been fraught with tragedy and bloodshed. She didn't know her brother, how could she mourn him? Her life would continue uninterrupted. He would be a small pang of regret when she looked at a faded photograph, nothing more. She wouldn't miss him. She didn't need him and that was why he could give her up. He could leave her much easier than…
~Consequences that I've rendered
Gone and fucked things up again... again ~
Cruel irony. Noin had offered her love to him before he 'died' and he had all but thrown it back in her face. He hadn't rejected her with words, but her presence wasn't welcomed either. He had hoped to spare her the final act of his warped play, but realized that wasn't possible. She didn't want to be spared. Noin simply wanted to be with him as long as she could. He allowed her to stay and watch, eliciting a promise that she stay out of the fight.
Now, he would give anything to have her here. To lean on her literally and figuratively. It was selfish, he knew…not to mention contradictory. He didn't have the will to live, yet he still wanted her love and friendship. He wanted the support Noin promised him, but she wasn't here. If Noin was with him, she could talk him out of his depression. If Noin was with him, she could convince him that starting over once again was possible. If Noin was with him. She could be. He could have called her for help when Libra disintegrated around him. Epyon's communication system continued to operate long after the twisted mass of metal was rendered floating debris. He heard his former comrade's strangled cry as she called for him, but remained silent. He just wanted to die, so he allowed Noin to think he had. He could call her, even now, but he was afraid. He had waited too long. It had been months since the war and everyone believed him dead. Surely Noin had moved on, perhaps started living the life she should have had from the beginning, the life she deserved…free of him and his selfishness.
~Why must I feel this way?
Just make this go away
Just one more peaceful day ~
It was starting again. He had spent the past few months in this hospital, calmly awaiting his death or plotting ways to hasten it. His depression and self-loathing had spared him the turmoil of the past. The conflict between the hope of a new life and the desire to leave this painful world behind. He wanted peace. Just one moment of peace. God denied him even that. The unexpected reminder of his best friend caused a confusion in his already fractured mind. He wanted to die. He wanted live. He wanted it to be over. He wanted to see her. Back and forth. All day. All night. No peace. His only reprieve came in the form of his daily therapy. He could lose himself in the pain, in the struggle to become whole again.
~It's been a while
Since I could...
Look at myself straight ~
He peeled the last of the bandages from his face, revealing the remnants of the reconstructive surgeries he had undergone upon arrival. He had been little more than a broken lump of flesh when he arrived, something out of a horror show. Strangely, he felt more comfortable with his disfigurements than the flawless copy of his father he had grown up with. He rarely looked at himself in the mirror, in his own eyes, for fear of what he would see. He did so now, if only for a moment. It was not as soul crushing as he expected. His face was almost normal again. Only a few red marks here and there were left to testify to damage. The young man ran his hand over the sensitive flesh of his face and turned away. According to surgeon, he would be back to normal in no time. Back to normal. Whatever the hell that was.
~It's been a while
Since I said I'm sorry ~
He walked back to his bed and picked up the small frame on the side table. He looked at the picture of the shy little boy, nervously peering up at the camera. He had done everything in that boy's name. His act of revenge was for that little boy. Not his murdered parents. Not for his burned kingdom. Not even for the baby sleeping peacefully in her brother's arms. For that boy. The child he had been would be horrified to know what heinous acts were committed in his name. The young man realized he had contributed to the murder of his former self just as surely as those who destroyed the little prince's life.
~It's been a while
Since I've seen the way candles light your face ~
Her memory had a way of creeping up on him, just when he thought it was safely pushed into some obscure corner of his mind. Tonight it was the starlight. She loved space. At the Lake Victoria Military Academy, Noin used to sneak out after curfew to gaze at the stars. That was how they met. He had snuck out to escape the lurid nightmares that plagued him and literally ran right into Cadet Noin. She had invited him to join her in her stargazing, patiently pointing out all of the constellations and sharing the small telescope. The girl should have seen him as a rival, an obstacle to her goal of graduating first in their class, but instead she eagerly drew the lonely boy into the warm circle of friendship.
It became a ritual with them. Almost every night, just after midnight, the two cadets would meet by the lake. He learned more about astronomy in those brief interludes than he ever would have learned in a formal class. Noin had a way of making the driest material come to life. Her love of space and the joy with which she spoke of her dream to live among the stars was infectious. For the first time since being ripped from the safety of his family, the boy had discovered the need for something other than vengeance.
Those first few painful years of adolescence had been made bearable by her presence. In the daylight, they were cadets and officers, expected to behave with the maturity of someone twice their age. Only in the evenings shared by the lake were they allowed those brief moments of their evaporating youth. In those moments they could be exactly what they should have been. Two teenagers sharing the small joys and sorrows of life as they built a lifelong friendship. He missed her more than he thought possible.
~It's been a while
But I can still remember just the way you taste ~
Noin invaded his dreams every night. Her memory glided through his fevered thoughts, tormenting him with the vision of what he could never have. Not now, it was too late. It had been years since he held her. Before the war, before his first return to Earth after a year and twenty-two days in space. Their last kiss held the promise of future happiness…after the war, after he reclaimed his kingdom for his sister. Later. It was always later. There had once been the possibility of being close to her again, not as fellow officers, not merely as friends, but something more. He had effectively destroyed that possibility once and for all. Now he was tormented nightly by his mistake. He awoke in a cocoon of twisted sheets, the memory of her taste on his lips as the dreams lingered in his mind. Each time he turned over, half-expecting to find Noin by his side and each time he found only emptiness. On one such restless night, the young man lay staring at the space next to him. He clutched the sheets as he tried to imagine her body next to his, bathed in starlight, but soon turned away in frustration. He was obsessed with something he could never have. He wasn't worthy.
~Everything I can remember
As fucked up as it all may seem
To me... ~
Early the next morning, before the doctors made their morning rounds, he sat on the edge of his bed and raked a comb through his silver-blonde hair. It had grown out considerably, now past his shoulders. He considered keeping it shorter, it was, after all, one of his most recognizable features. Maybe he should cut it, before it reached his waist again, before he started to look like his father. That was why he had grown it out in the first place. He wore a mask, yet left hints for his enemies to find. His long hair, his chosen name reflecting one of his childhood titles…the list was long.
In a perverse way, he supposed he had wanted people to recognize him as the son of the King of Cinq. Back then, he used his appearance as a kind of dare. His enemies were so very anxious to find him and destroy him, were they? Well, here he was. Ready to fight, but this time as a well-trained soldier. Yet, part of him was still a whimpering 6-year-old crying for his parents' protection, still trapped in the nightmares of his past. So, he hid his face with a mask. However, the mask only worked during the day. At night, alone with his fears, the young man was forced to face the image in the mirror. Here he was facing the image again. His father's image glared back at him from the fathomless depths of the smudged glass, disapproving and accusing.
~I know this pain
I cannot blame this on my father,
He did the best he could for me ~
He spent many years denying his anger towards his father. Turning it instead against himself. His father was dead, martyred to the cause of Peace. What kind of person can be angry with a martyr? He hadn't allowed himself to resent his father's priorities. The king put his ideals above his family. Was that not as it should be? If sacrificing his family led to world peace, wasn't it worth the price? No. The young man did indeed resent his father's actions. The king put the world above the safety of his wife and children…but he lived and died as he believed. In the end, the King only wanted a better world for his own children as well.
The young man stared at his reflection in the mirror and for the first time, really looked at himself. It wasn't his father that chose to join OZ. It wasn't his father who chose to switch loyalties and ideals as easily as some men switch ties. He made his own choices, his own mistakes. He wouldn't use his father or Alliance deceit as an excuse any more…nor would he use those excuses to push away those who cared for him. It was time to grow up. It was time to face himself in the mirror.It was also time to face her. Maybe Noin would forgive him, maybe she would throw a toaster at his head. He had to face her and find out, whatever the outcome. It would do neither of them any good to let things go on like this. As much as he would prefer to believe otherwise, their lives had been inextricably linked since childhood and staying away only hurt her more. He accepted that now. The only thing left for him to do was to go back and face Lucretzia Noin.
On the shuttle home, he heard the news that his sister had been kidnapped.
~It's been a while
Since I could...
Hold my head up high ~
Upon arrival on Earth, the young man immediately made his way to the headquarters of the new Preventers Organization, determined to assist in the effort to retrieve his little sister. His reunion with Noin would have to wait once again, he thought sadly as he entered the office of Lady Une. Her shock subsided quickly as they discussed the current situation and the larger threat of Mariemaia's army. Une hesitantly informed the former pilot of the existence of another Tallgeese. He naturally requested to be allowed to pilot the mobile suit and Une agreed, ordering him to space once again to thwart the Barton Foundation's operation on MOIII. He argued against that at first, wanting instead to lead the search for his sister, but the Lady convinced him that his skills were better placed elsewhere. It was time to stand on his own, fight for what he believed in…not for what was expected of the Peacecraft heir, but for what he believed. He couldn't hope to correct the mistakes of his past, but he could contribute to the future of this fragile new world. The Preventers, unlike OZ, truly had the potential to make a difference. It was his first honest chance to defend peace.
He sat in the cockpit of the new Tallgeese for two hours, patiently waiting for her. He pulled a small book from his gear and idly flipped through the pages. It was a tattered copy of Hamlet, littered with folded page corners and pencil markings. On the inside cover, in a neat script, was written a name. Her name. Noin had given him her copy of the play when his was lost. It was the day before the final exam in their literature course and he managed to misplace his copy. He had been at his wits end until Noin offered her text. She handed the small book over without a second thought, claiming to have studied sufficiently. A week later, when the scores were posted, he discovered that she had scored 10 points lower than he, effectively securing his first place ranking and her status at second. If she had studied sufficiently, Noin would have aced that test. Just like her to give up the chance to be first in order to help someone else.
He was startled from his memory when his sensors sounded, indicating the approach of another ship. At the hailing signal, he cowered behind the book and paused a moment before he acknowledged her presence.
"Is that you, Noin?"
"I've come to pick you up."
"Thanks." Zechs slowly lay the book on his knee and, after another pause, looked up at the woman who had haunted his dreams for months. The same woman he had treated with such cold disinterest. The woman who never ceased to believe in him, even when he stopped believing in himself. Her unfaltering loyalty had been one of the reasons he decided--at the last possible moment--to destroy Libra rather than allow the battleship to destroy Earth. So many soldiers followed him because they believed in him, Noin chief among them, and he wanted to justify their faith in him. He wanted to do something right for a change. One good thing before he died.
"So, Noin. How have you been?"
"Good," Noin looked away briefly then added, "Zechs, it's been one year and two days."
"Yes, I know," he thought as he gazed at the flickering image on the vidscreen.
~It's been a while
Since I said I'm sorry ~
Noin was waiting for him when he docked. Standing on the catwalk almost casually. Almost. The young woman's eyes never left his from the moment he stepped out of the Tallgeese III. She continued to gaze at the pilot, not speaking, not moving to meet him, just looking. The young man tried to read Noin's emotions but failed, his own feelings clouding his perception. He didn't know how long they stood there, staring. Eventually, when he couldn't take it any longer, he moved towards her, stopping only inches away.
"Hello, Noin." He knew how insufficient that greeting was, but could not think of anything better to say. It was certainly better than his earlier comments.
"Hello, Zechs." Noin's reply was quiet, noncommittal. No accusatory tone, no overwhelming joy.
They were still standing like that, looking at one another, when Zechs felt something squeeze his fingers. He looked down. Noin had taken his hands and he hadn't noticed. He squeezed his dear friend's small hands in return and smiled down at her, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. Noin closed her eyes and let out a small sigh. It wasn't exactly the homecoming Zechs had expected…or deserved. He owed her so much more than this. Showing up one day, out of the blue, no explanations…he owed her more. An apology, at the very least.
"Noin…" he began but stopped as Noin placed her fingers on his lips.
"Shhh, Zechs," Noin murmured, not looking up, "just let me be happy you're alive, ok?" Zechs answered by lightly kissing her fingertips before taking hold of her hand once more. For the first time in a very long time, Zechs was just glad to be alive, too.
+++++++++++++++++++++ End ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
This is songfic #3 in a fic series about Zechs and Noin (who else does Lady Dante write about?). #1 is 'Scream', #2 is 'Forgiveness.' Truckloads of angry angst. I guess you could move on to 'Drive' and 'Stellar' if you need a dose of sap or a dish of fluff, though they aren't really in the story arc.
I worked hard on these, so PLEASE review and let me know what you think. PUH-LEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEZ?!!!?
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam wing or the song "It's Been A While." They are copyrighted by their respective owners and no infringement is intended…HA! I did a REAL ONE!!!!HA!