Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ It's All Been Done ❯ The West ( Chapter 4 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N
-One line of the song instead of two because this and chapter 5 are connected.

Warnings:
AU, evil cliffhangers, corny name changes, ranting about Fate, past lives, anachronisms, cursing, curses, yaoi, het, odd coincidences, stereotypical Fate, loopholes, assumptions, dramatization, angst, oh, and did I mention just plain depressing?


Chapter 4: The West

"I knew you before the West was won...

It's all been done...
It's all been done before..."

This week just plain sucked. It's like the whole week was cursed or something. But something strange happened on this particular week... I saw my past lives. Three of them, actually. That's not the weird part, though. The weird part was that I saw them on Saturday instead of Sunday...

One day before I was "supposed" to die.

I got to see my lives a day early! This was the chance I had been waiting for! But... why? What did that mean? I clearly had not beaten Fate (in fact, I shuddered at the thought of my... death), but maybe I had changed it, thus causing this memory to come a day soon? Could I then change Fate even more today, Saturday? But if I did change my destiny, did I change it for the better... or worse? Was I now going to die a day early? Then again, maybe I hadn't changed Fate at all... maybe there was just something about the curse that Hilda hadn't told me about?

I took my chances on the last option.

Whatever had happened, I now had an extra day -an entire twenty-four hours- to gather my resources and prepare. Either I'd die a day early while planning for tomorrow, or I'd be prepared for tomorrow and beat Fate Herself. Whichever it was, I wasn't going to run away: something told me that the blue-eyed knight would hunt me down even if I tried; running wouldn't work since you can't hide from Fate. I had to use one of my other skills... I would have to be shifty, devious, mysterious, conniving, and all around cunning: in other words, I had to be a thief. I grinned at the opportunity to do what I do best. I didn't know how it had happened, but I had a whole day to plan, and I was damn well going to make full use of it.

Immediately, I decided to stop my future death. I had to find someone and make sure I changed something... but who? And what? The obvious place to start would be the guy that killed me. Come to think of it... I never found out his name. Anyway, if I could convince the blue-eyed fighter to, I don't know, become a pacifist or leave the country or something, then I'd be safe. Problem was, I had no clue where to find him. He could be anywhere in the town! Maybe I could stop the chain of events some other way... after all, you only have to sever one link to snap a chain. But which link could I locate?

Next up on the nasty list of who led to my death(s) would be the royal family. ...There was no royalty here in the open plains, though. Okay, that idea was out.

Then there was Une. Where would she be, though... I had a guess, but nothing definite. Keep trying...

Zeches: Hilda's father sent me to Une. Well, where he was, Hilda was. But where to find them...

I decided the best option would be to start at the source: Hilda. Somehow she was the root of everything, I knew it (besides the fact that there was nowhere else -to- start). Sure, she wasn't Fate, but she was the one who gave me this chance. She had to know something that I didn't... but what? Only one way to find out. How to find her, though? On Sunday it would've been easy: I knew every little detail about Sunday, (at least I thought so after remembering the same day in three lives). But I couldn't know where she was on Saturday. She could be anywhere! Not only that, but she'd have a different name in this time (although I had a sneaking suspicion that it would be similar to Hidelle). How could I find her? Where could she be? Well, there was only one way to find out: wander around aimlessly and pray I found her before tomorrow. I sighed deeply. This was going to be a long day.

I began walking when a misty memory in the back of my mind, a memory I couldn't possibly have, practically knocked me over. That man... Treize. Hadn't he said something about the gypsies? Yes, he had! About them escaping! And Une! She had mentioned them, too! Okay... if they escaped, they had to have been caught, right? But by whom? There's no king here, so then who could possibly catch Hilda and her family? Une and Treize were soldiers or something... There were no soldiers here, either: only gun fighters, outlaws, and the law. Outlaws wouldn't take prisoners, I don't think (that'd be stupid of us), neither would most gun fighters (they're out for the money mostly). That left...

Of course! More memories flooded me. It's weird how they came in bits and pieces. I realized then the parallel of the royalty of my past lives and the law now. In fact, the old sheriff had just died and his son was to take the job. Now, I'd seen the old sheriff, but I had no idea he actually had a family! Then again, I'd spent most of my life running from him, not sitting down for tea and talking with him. I bet, I just bet - that the sheriff's son would be the young blonde... Quatre.

Look at me piece this all together! Damn, I'm good.

This town was fairly big, all things considered. I didn't know many people (other than what their wallets looked like). I figured it was about time I met the sheriff and his family and became a bit more involved with the law force. Reaching this conclusion, I headed, to my shock and utter disgust, to the local jail.

When I arrived there, I met with the deputy: and wasn't I shocked when the redhead told me his name was Teres? Of course I wasn't! And I was grinning like a maniac even more so when his "assistant Lady Uma" walked in and introduced herself. Hey, it's cool knowing everyone before you've met them! Anyway, "Uma" said that the gypsies had been caught. Using my wit that I'm oh-so-famous for, I quickly made up my reason for visiting. "I heard that a couple of dirty gypsies were invading or town! I've never seen a gypsy, though, so I don't know what to look for. Are they mean looking? With big teeth and huge claws and..." I exaggerated, thoroughly exercising my imagination. My little plot worked like a charm and I was brought to Hilda's cell.

The girl looked up when she saw me, but masked her recognition well. Her mother was there as well, the two clinging to each other in a protective manner, but her father (the tall blonde) was nowhere to be seen. I couldn't exactly ask about it, so I held up my act. Slumping my shoulders, I pouted, "Aw, they don't look mean! They just look dirty and dressed funny." I controlled myself and kept from smirking at Hilda's insulted expression.

Teres put a hand on my shoulder and spoke in a smooth voice, "Don't be fooled. They'd slit your throat if given the chance. Best stay away and leave gypsies to us." He glanced at Uma who nodded and guided me out. I couldn't help but wonder, though... did Treize really believe that or was he just trying to scare the nosy little kid? As Une guided me out, I was nearly knocked down by... Hilda's father?! He was dressed in a normal suit (which looked nicer than anything I could ever afford!) and seemed to fit in with both the lawmen, er, man and woman. I was guided out and had the door slammed in my face without a word.

Things just kept getting weirder and weirder...

And I was stuck again. I knew where Hilda, her mother and father were, but I couldn't talk to them while they were in there or I'd get locked up, too, and I couldn't get them out of there, because I'd get caught in the process. They were stuck in there and me out here for the time being. However, I also knew that Treize was the second in command and he and Une were close: just like my past lives. But now I didn't know why Zeches wasn't locked up and why he wasn't dressed like a gypsy. In fact, he was dressed like a rich guy. I also didn't know where the young king, the queen, and the ladies of the court were. They seemed important figures that I should know the whereabouts of. Unfortunately, I didn't know where to look for them.

Just then, Lady Luck waltzed past my front door: in the form of the blonde with four eyebrows. She was dressed in a fine red dress (that was too flashy for my taste... er, not that I have taste in dresses, but you get the idea) and was carrying an arm-load of things: food, jewelry, clothes, you name it. She looked ready to fall over. It was pretty amusing to watch her wabble from side to side trying to avoid horses and people in the road, actually. Gathering my senses and stifling my laughter, I realized that this girl could take me to the other blonde - Relena. Maybe I could find out why she was the queen when the blonde "angel" wasn't present. Taking the opportunity, I jogged over to the woman and grabbed some of her bags, muttering about helping her to carry them. After giving me a few odd looks, she dumped all of her stuff into my arms and trotted off calling back, "Follow me." Struggling under the weight and the blindness of having a large frilly dress and about five boxes in my eyes, I followed the girl. This had -so- better be worth it.

I was taken to a rather nice looking building with two stories and many rooms. I made my way up the stairs (after about three trips and one slide - don't ask) and to her room. I was practically glowing when I saw Relena. Maybe it was because I had achieved my goal and was on my way to solving this and changing Fate, or maybe it was because I was hot and sweaty from lugging all those packages. Either way, I was glad to meet her.

The two girls chatted a bit about what the first had bought. After a few minutes, they finally noticed me standing in their doorway. "Ah yes, Reena, I forgot to introduce you. This boy was kind enough to help carry my things."

Relena smiled and nodded, "Thank you, I'm sure Dorthy appreciates it."

My head turned as the taller blonde spoke, "Oh, I do. I don't know how I would have managed."

My head shot back to "Reena," "And so many things! You carried them all the way here?"

"Yes, he did! He was a true gentleman, just ran to help me."

"How nice! You don't find many gentleman nowadays."

"Oh, I know." The two giggled about some inside joke and I laughed nervously in response. (Not to mention how dizzy I was feeling from all the verbal ping pong...) What had I gotten myself into?

"Heh, heh, yes well..."

"You're not dressed very nicely. Are you poor?"

Could she be anymore straightforward?

"Dorthy! I'm sorry, you'll have to forgive Dorthy, she forgets her manners sometimes." Dorthy just grinned smugly. "Um, I'm afraid I haven't learned your name yet. I'm Reena Pecip. This is my sister, Dorthy." She nodded to me.

I bowed slightly and responded, "I'm Daniel Maxel, but you can call me Dan, Miss. Pecip."

She smiled, "Please, call me Reena."

"You didn't answer my question... Dan." Dorthy reminded me with a raised eyebrow and an unnerving smirk.

I forced down my snide remarks: they wouldn't get me any needed information. "Just deal with it now, you can curse and hurl insults later," or so I told myself silently. "Yeah," I replied, "I'm not exactly well-off." I conveniently forgot to mention the "I'm a thief" part.

"I assume then, Mister Maxel, that you wish to be paid for carrying my things?"

"Dorthy!"

I shrugged. "Not really, but feel free! Actually..."

Dorthy crossed her arms and smiled thinly at me as if to say, "I knew it." Reena asked, "What?"

I looked to the floor, then looked back up, "I'd rather have some information." Now honestly, I'd rather have money, but if the info would keep me alive, well, life's a priority. Both girls tossed me confused yet curious glances. Now... how to phrase what I needed to say in a way that wouldn't upset them.... "Well, you see, being -poor-" I glanced at Dorthy, "I don't know a lot about what's going on with the whole 'sheriff thing.' I was wondering if either of you ladies could explain it to me."

Relena opened her mouth to reply, but Dorthy butted in, "What's to explain? The sheriff died, so his eldest son is supposed to take over. Of course, Teres doesn't like this, but he has no real say in the matter."

I stored the bit of information into my already crowded brain, "So why don't we have a sheriff yet? Why doesn't the son just take over?"

Dorthy got a gleam in her eye for a second, then looked over to Reena innocently. Reena sighed and answered Dorthy's unasked question, "Well, I know how much you love to gossip, so you might as well spread the rumor further." Then she muttered something about "lack of family pride."

The smirking blonde nodded to Reena, grinned, and turned to me. Leaning in, she spoke softly as if afraid the walls would hear her, "Well, rumors are going about that the sheriff's son is in league with the gypsies currently captured. They're supposed to be executed Monday, and he doesn't like it. Because of this, the rumor's spread even further. Now the people say that if he's made sheriff, the gypsies will roam free letting them sneak into your house and kill your children, or slit your throat while you sleep or..."

"Dorthy! No need to be so graphic!"

The older girl stood up straight, her long hair which was (unusually) left hanging down her back swayed as she stood. "I'm only telling him so that he knows what to expect. Besides, he asked."

My thoughts were dancing as I inserted names: So Quatre, the sheriff's son, didn't want Hilda and her family to.... Hilda and her family were going to die on Monday?! ... so they're getting the same treatment as me... I could think about that later, though. Okay, so the rumor said that Quatre would make Hilda and her family along with all other gypsies equals in society, but everyone thought that gypsies were dangerous so they wouldn't let Quatre become sheriff? That didn't explain how Relena or Dorthy fit in, though, and why Relena would take the throne, er, whatever, if Quatre didn't. I phrased my question slightly different as I looked back at Dorthy, "How do you know all this?"

For the first time, Reena answered instead of her blonde friend, "The sheriff was our father."

I nodded with the realization and answered dumbly, "Oh... Thank you, ladies," and practically ran out the door. I need to think - make a family tree or something. I stood in the hallway, dumbly staring off to space, as I thought about this new knowledge that could save my life.

Okay, so Dorthy and Relena were the sheriff's daughters. That explains why one of them would be next in line after Quatre... after Quatre... That means Quatre was the sheriff's son, right? I guess I was assuming it, but if he were next in line, it worked well enough. I assumed that since he took the place of the deceased king, that he would take the place of the deceased sheriff. It made sense, but it was still just an assumption. However, assuming that was true, that would make Relena, Dorthy, and Quatre all siblings. That made sense, too: blonde hair and blue eyes must run in the family. But if Dorthy was older, why did Relena take the throne? Maybe Dorthy declined it... but why? And Quatre and Relena couldn't be siblings: they looked too close to the same age. Maybe they were twins? It was possible... and it wouldn't be the first odd coincidence. What's more, it made sense.

I was still confused, though. Treize and Une were the link between the next sheriff and the people. That meant that any rumors came from those two... So why didn't Treize want Quatre to be sheriff? Maybe because Treize was against the gypsies? But why bring down Quatre to make the gypsies look bad? Maybe it was because Treize wanted to be the sheriff? That could make sense... But it was stupid. Treize would have nearly as much power as deputy. He'd probably even get -more- respect than Quatre because of how much older he was. Why would title make such a difference to him?

The really confusing piece of this puzzle, though, was Zeches. How the hell did he fit in?! He's like the damn last piece of the puzzle - the one right in the center - that until you put that piece in, you can't see the whole picture... but the stupid piece just won't fit! It's from the right puzzle and it's the only piece left, but the damn thing won't go! It's annoying as hell, trust me. He looked rich enough in this life, but why wasn't he in the past ones, then? And why wasn't he married to Hilda's mother in this life? Did I do it? Did Hilda? Speaking of whom, if Zeches isn't Hilda's father, than who is?! Zeches was really starting to piss me off, and I hadn't even spoken to him yet.

What about the blue-eyed warrior that kills me? Was he even part of this mess? I hadn't seen him in town anywhere... where could he be? And who the hell was he (besides my murderer and a kick-ass fighter)? And why does he kill me at all?

Why do I die at all?

That really bugged me: how did any of this relate to my death? The sheriff, his family, the deputy, and a few gypsies. How does that lead to me bleeding? Was I just in the wrong place at the wrong time -every- time? Was there any real purpose behind my dying?

Dying for no reason at all. That is -so- wrong...

...and hurts so much...

Around that point in my thoughts, I heard the door downstairs open and slam shut. Shit! I had completely forgotten that I was in a stranger's house! If somebody caught me, I'd never be able to explain myself, and I'd probably end up in the jail! And I didn't solve the puzzle yet, so there was no way I was going to get caught now! Before I realized where I was standing, I practically hurled myself into the railing. I stood there for a minute, gathering my senses, then I looked down at the main floor to see who had just entered. A group of people stood below me, looking around nervously. And that's when I noticed... despite the unusually normal attire, these people were the actors from my past lives! I gasped, but kept myself otherwise quiet as I watched down on them silently. With a bird's eye view, I listened and watched the scene play out.

The entertainers stood around nervously for a few moments when a small blonde boy entered the room. I smiled with recognition. Quatre. He was in the same building as Relena and Dorthy - that meant my assumption of their relation was probably right. Good for me. The blonde spoke with a brown-haired woman I recognized as the actor with harsh blue eyes (and that hair style's pretty hard to forget, too).

Quatre spoke softly to the general group, "I'm sorry, may I help you?"

"Yes, actually," the woman stepped forward taking charge, "We're looking for work - you see, we're a traveling band (acrobats, players, musicians, dancers, anything we're asked, really) and we were directed here." The woman paused looking around, "They didn't say why they pointed us here, but," she shrugged, "here we are!"

The blonde boy stood, dazed, for a minute before replying, "Well, uh, this is a personal residence. The Pecip house." He smiled softly, "You were probably sent here as some practical joke against my family. I'm sorry."

The strong blue-eyes of the brown haired girl blinked in mild anger. "Don't be. A joke." She turned shaking her head "A joke." The girl paused and turned back to the blonde finishing, "We apologize for disturbing you, Mister Picep." The girl turned and walked away, followed by the rest of the group - except for one.

A tall brunet remained for a moment silently, simply exchanging glances with the blonde. Then the taller boy spoke, "Do you happen to know..."

"Yes." The blonde cut him off before he could finish, but neither seemed phased. "There's a saloon a few doors down, " he nodded his golden head to the right. "They should be hiring some sort of entertainment." The brunet nodded his thanks and turned to leave. When he reached the door, he looked over one shoulder, exchanged another glance with the blonde, then continued the rest of the way out, almost as if he didn't want to leave. Quatre remained standing for a minute, not moving, then shook his head and reluctantly turned back into the hall from which he had came.

Weirder and weirder.

Blinking myself out of my temporary amazement/confusion/train of thought from my perch on the railing, I decided to follow the entertainers. I knew I was missing something, no matter how unimportant, and I was determined to find out what. I know, curiosity killed the cat. I didn't care if they weren't important, I wanted to know, damn it!

Meow.

My curious nature led me to the nearest saloon. I walked inside and was struck in the face with the strong atmospheric change. Outside, the streets were dusty, relatively still, and the wind blew clean smelling air into my face. The colors were pale grays, greens, and blues, as if the whole world had been drained of life. Everything was still, and soft, and slow. Once I entered the saloon, though, it was like a whole other world. My ears were assaulted with loud music (which was only topped by the full hollering of drunk men and the shrill laughter of drunk women), my eyes met vibrant colored dresses and drinks, and the air was dark and so thick that it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

This was my kind of place.

This crowd was the easiest to steal from - if you were daring enough. They were all drunk out of their minds and, better still, they all carried most of what they owned or valued in their pockets. The down side, though, was that none of them thought twice about pulling out their weapons; and they -all- had weapons... quite a variety, too. You name it, at least one person in there would have it. It wasn't the nicest place in the world, and it was the home of many thieves and crooks. And, being a thief, I was home.

Pushing my way through the hot masses, I made it to the bar. Just as expected, the actors were speaking with a young bartender about a job. Their words were caught in the music and drifted beyond my hearing range, but I figured out the basics. Nothing much unusual was said. They wanted jobs, he gave them some. There was something strange, though, and that was the bartender. Toss him in a few robes and you had the dark haired boy from the cathedral! Who knew? Huh. Quite a jump from Notre Dame to the local saloon. I couldn't help but wonder what his story was... As usual, I did the obvious thing - I asked.

As the actors left, I managed to get (note - steal) a few coins and wandered my way to the bar. I tossed down the coins and asked for a drink. Although I was quite happy with getting a drink, sneaky me had ulterior motives. After taking a sip from my glass, I asked the bartender a bit about himself. I guess he gets that a lot, so he talked with me for a while. I told him about my past (not past lives, just the one recent one), and he told me some information about his. Apparently, his home town was ravaged and completely destroyed. He heard that someone in -this- town had something to do with it, so he came here and got the nearest job he could. I was quite interested with this... I just love a bit of mystery. Okay, a lot of mystery - like me being without a clue as to why I was going to die - is annoying and just plain sucks. But a bit of intrigue is fun.

Seeing how there was not much I could do about his situation at the moment and how my drink was gone (and poor me was out of money again), I decided to leave. When I stepped out of the saloon, a burst of night air hit me, clearing my senses. Wait... night air? What time was it?! Frustrated, I stalked out of the doorway and was about to go into the street when I saw a little girl sitting on the steps. Actually, I saw her after I nearly stepped on her. To avoid running over her, I stepped to the side: thus tripping over my own feet and landing, face down, in the dust.

I should've just trampled her.

Too late now. I looked up from my place on the ground and received another face full of dust the girl threw at me. I coughed and sputtered yelling, "Hey! What'd you do that for?!" but the girl just sat, not answering. I stood and brushed my dusty clothes off slightly, then looked back at the girl. She sat on the steps in a common looking dress, playing with the dust. I raised my eyebrow and bent over to watch what she was doing that could possibly be so interesting.

Her eyes straight ahead and unblinking, the girl gathered the dust into her right hand and held it over her left one. She then dropped the dust like an hourglass from hand to the other. She then switched hands and repeated the mindless task. When her hands were finally devoid of dust, she gathered more and started all over again.

O...kay... "Hey, little girl, where're your parents?"

Continuing her game, she stared straight through me and said, "I don't have parents."

Feeling a wash of sympathy, I sat down next to her. "Yeah, me neither."

We sat in silence, the only noise being the soft rustle of the dust she was toying with.

After a while, I looked at her and called her saying, "Hey, " but she didn't turn to acknowledge me. I raised an eyebrow and passed my hand in front of her face. The redheaded child didn't blink her wide cyan eyes. My jaw dropped, "You're blind?"

"I have more sight than you."

That sounded like an insult... but she was just a little kid (and I didn't quite understand it...) so it couldn't have been, right? "What's that supposed to mean?"

Without looking at me (duh, she was blind!), she changed the topic, "You see the dust?"

"Uh... yeah." Okay, the kid totally lost it.

This girl dropped the dust in her hand and held up one grain for me to see. "Alone, a bit is nothing and will remain so, no matter how it wants to become what it is not." She picked up another handful of dust and continued, "I have control of the dust, even as it slips through my fingers. Some grains fall back into the dust they came from, but the majority stays in my hands." She picked up another handful of dust from the same spot below her feet and spoke, "No matter how much I drop, I can pick it back up. And just because one or two grains fall, the others are not affected."

I blinked but nodded. Realizing the girl wouldn't notice my silent affirmation, I vocalized it, "Yeah, okay... and is there a point?"

The girl continued, "But if one simple grain of dust should foolishly decide it doesn't -want- my control, if it makes the wind change," as she spoke this, a small breeze of wind picked up, causing her fiery bangs to dance across her water-like eyes. As the dust passed from one of her small hands to the other, it was blown away and scattered, never to reach her second hand, "then all the dust is lost."

Confused, almost scared, always curious, and ever logical, I asked, "Sure, THAT dust's gone, but can't you just pick up a new handful?"

The child did as I suggested, "I can, but it is not the same dust." She then threw down the handful of dust she had just picked up spitefully and slapped her hands together, cleansing them of their chalky gray coating. Standing, she began to walk away, just barely missing running into anything on her blind path through the eternal dark of dead eyes.

I stood, moving to help the girl who was already far out of my reach, "Hey, do you need help or anything?"

The child turned and looked through me, "Worry about yourself, Daniel.... And remember what I've told you." Then her red hair flashed as the back of her head faced me again, and the girl walked off.

I thought about her story for a minute before calling out, "Wait! I found a loophole!" With a jerking movement, the child went rigid and she stopped in her tracks. She turned to face me once more, twin lifeless blue pools for eyes staring into me, almost angrily. I swallowed under the gaze but continued, "A bit of dust can't cause the wind to change."

The girl paused simply staring silently for a minute before replying. Her face relaxed into an expressionless mask that was nearly as dead as her eyes. "I didn't think so either." The child turned slowly, then tossed her head over one slender shoulder and finished, " ...but here we are." And with that, she walked away from me, her slight form blending and becoming one with the darkness.


There was only one way to explain that little girl, but since she -was- a little girl, I wasn't about to say it in front of her. ...So I muttered it to myself after she left. "That was -so- fucked up..." It gave me the shivers just thinking about it.

A long yawn wrenched itself from my mouth and I realized just how late it was - and how tired -I- was. I had to sleep. Besides, there was (another) big day ahead of me. I walked to a nearby alley and lay down. That place was as good as any. I fell to my back and rested my tired head on my neatly folded arms. Staring up at the stars, I just couldn't seem make my brain shut up long enough to let me relax. Hundreds of thoughts, possibilities, and feelings were running through my mind, keeping me from any chance at sleep.

Apparently, my thoughts weren't -that- loud, because I was soon snoring away. It was cold in the dusty back road, so I curled up in my sleep and hoped dawn would come soon. I was constantly waking up to shiver, pray it was morning, and drift back off into a world of nightmares and nonsensical mysteries.

It's scary how much that dream world was akin to my real one.

Anyway, the important thing that happened that night, I don't know if it was a dream or not, I heard running. I smelled the ashy scent of a fire (or multiple infernos) and chips of half-burnt wood invaded my lungs and reddened my eyes, tossing the world before me into a blurry haze. I looked over to my right and dimly saw a few dark figures running, dodging between shadows like lost rabbits with a wolf on their heels. They scurried off into an nearby alley as the smell of fire and dim shouts became stronger. I curled closer to the decrepit wooden wall and buried my head to my chest, desperately trying to blend into the shadows. After a few minutes, my eyes stopped watering as the smell of fire retreated and the darkness and silence were once again mended. I fell back into that darkness of sleep, whether I was asleep to begin with or not.

And some time later that night, when I was in the darkness of pure, dreamless sleep, the day of my death began.