Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Mistaken Words ❯ To Say "I'm Sorry" ( Chapter 32 )

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

Mistaken Words

Thanks to my editors morgansgirl and Pious Knight!

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, and my Original Characters have all been stolen by neekabe!

To Say “I'm Sorry”

Heero woke to silence and dimly lit lights within his room, he was alone, and grateful for it. The memories of his conversation with Relena were still fresh in his mind, he could hear her sad voice as she tried to make sense of what he had been telling her. Still at the same time he was able to take some reassurance from it, knowing now that what Luc had told him was a lieand that she was not with him, nor had she ever loved him. But in the face of all he and Relena had to over come it really wasn't all that helpful. Heero shifted a little in his bed, as much as he body would allow, he wanted very much to know what the day was. He was tired of not knowing, of feeling like he was in the dark.

His eyes scanned the room searching for anything that might help him. He was feeling a little more awake than he had earlier, and his eyes were focusing better because of this. With some relief Heero's eyes locked on a round clocked hanging from the wall, and with a little effort he was able to see it was around one in the morning. But that didn't do much to tell him what the date was as his eyes continued their search, until they rested on a small day calendar sitting on a table beside his bed. The sixteenth of May, was the day it displayed, and Heero wondered if it was accurate. There was no use stressing over it, at least he now had a rough idea about how much time had passed since the last time someone had told him.

Heero then turned his attention towards himself, this was his first opportunity to actually try and take measure of his injuries. As he looked down at himself all Heero's eyes could see were blankets, and bandages. Tubes and wires ran everywhere, and it struck him then just how quiet it was in the room,as the heart monitor was not continuously announcing the beat of his heart. Heero wondered at why that was, but he couldn't seem to single out any one wire to see where it went. Giving up Heero looked away from the wires to himself, noting what injuries he could actually see. His left hand was wrapped thick with bandages, and as he searched his memory trying to remember what had happened, a slight twinge from his palm was enough to remind him of Luc's knife. Heero's right arm looked much the worse for wear, the upper part was bandaged, and his forearm had been placed in a brace.

Breathing hurt a good deal, but at the same time not as much as he remembered. He knew right away that was only because they had him on some sort of painkiller, Heero could recognise the feel of it immediately. The sound of the door opening brought Heero's eyes about and he watched as John walked in holding what appeared to be a thermos in one hand. He smiled coming to a stop at the edge of Heero's bed, “I'm glad to see you're awake, how are you feeling?”

If Heero could have shrugged he would have, he couldn't think of an answer to that question. At least not one he'd actually want to give, he saw no point in acknowledging the discomfort, he hated showing weakness, and in his present situation, it seemed that was all he was doing.

A knowing smile took John's face then, as he looked down at Heero, “I'll rephrase, is the pain too bad?”

“No,” Heero told him honestly, he could remember times of worse pain, not clearly but he could remember them.

“I understand you awokewhen Relena was here last,” John began his old hand taking hold of a clipboard that had been left on the counter top. He started flipping through the papers there, while he continued to talk, “That meant a lot to her.”

Heero remained silent about that, his eyes looking away. sure he had been able to find out that Relena never really gave up on him, but at the same time the sad look in her eyes tore at him. How could anything good come from that?

“It's a start Heero,” John's soft voice broke through Heero's thoughts, as though the old doctor had been able to read his mind. “All of you want everything back to the way it was, but it's going to take time,” he eased himself down on the edge of the bed the clipboard held loosely in his lap.

The former pilot turned his head away slightly in the lingering silence his cobalt eyes finding that small day calendar again, “Is that right?” he asked pulling his head in its direction.

John looked over, “Yes I changed it just after midnight, I thought you might like to know what day it is from no on.” Heero just nodded his head in appreciation towards that, not feeling all that much like holding a conversation at that moment, yet at the same time he didn't really want to fall back asleep either. John came to his feet quite suddenly eyes still looking down on Heero, “Do you think you can stay awake for me for a little while?”

“Why?” he couldn't help but ask.

“Now that you're off the drug I wanted to get you eating again,” John moved towards the counter where he had left the thermos when he entered the room. “I was going to wake you in a couple of hours, but since you woke on your own, why not try now?”

The thought of food made Heero shutter, he couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten anything. “Not hungry,” he breathed his eyes leaving John's form to focus on the clock, watching the slow crawl of time.

“I'm not really surprised about that,” John replied easily, “But unless you start eating, you're never going to be able to recover.”

Heero felt a spark of irritation at that, he knew what John said was true, but at this present moment all he wanted was to be left alone. “Later,” he tried to make his voice firm, to end the discussion there, but John was already shaking his head.

“Heero the only compromise I'm willing to make here, is whether you eat before or after I examine you,” his arms were folded over his chest and their was an equally firm set to his jaw, he was not about to back down. “You want to get better, your friends want you to get better, and it's not going to happen unless you start eating.”

It sounded to Heero as though he were admonishing a child, and it grated upon his nerves even more. What fuelled Heero's resentment even more so, was that he could see John's point.

“Look Heero even a few spoonfuls would be enough for now,” John cut through his thoughts, with a voice that was gently pleading. He waited for a few moments just looking at Heero, his expression hopeful, “So which will it be?”

Heero sighed, “After,” he ground out, thinking a little extra time might help him feel a little more receptive to the idea of food. John nodded his head whileletting go of the thermos, and turned his attention tothe cupboards and drawers that lined thecorner of the room. Heero watched mutely as the old doctor began to withdraw various medical tools lining them up on the clean counter top so he'd have easy access to them. Heero briefly contemplated dropping himself into a half sleep so that he was still aware, but at the same time resting himself. He quickly decided against that idea, as this might be a good time to find out what actually happened to him.

John turned away from his preparations finally, slipping a stethoscope around his neck, he took hold of his clipboard and a small device before he actually took the two steps back over to Heero's bed. He placed the clipboard down on a table and withdrew a pen from his pocket to add to it. John then sat himself down on the edge of the bed, his fingers fiddling with the item, Heero couldn't tell what it was. “I'm just going to start by taking your temperature, alright?” Once again he was back to making it suggestions giving Heero the choice. The former pilot just nodded his head, watching as the old doctor brought the small device tohis forehead and held it there for a few seconds.

Reaching over to his pen John wrote the reading, and left the electronic thermometer on that small table. “It's normal,” he told Heero with a smile, “First time in a couple of weeks.”

Heero remained silent, having nothing to add to the conversation so far. He simply watched as John carefully folded back the warm blankets to his waist, and began untying the front of hisshirt. The Japanese man watched with some surprise, he had been expecting a line of bandages winding its way around his chest, not several smaller ones tapedalong the edge of his chest. John rested a hand lightly on the center of Heero's torso amid the wires that ran every which way, drawing his eyes to the doctor's face.

“Your ribs were broken so badly, that I felt it was best to have pins put into most of them,” he explained, and Heero understood that the bandages were covering the incisions made during surgery. As John reached for his stethoscope Heero found his thoughts wandered a little, as he tried to remember where those broken ribs had come from, but his mind continued to draw blanks every time. “I need you totake as deep a breath as you can Heero,” John bade, and Heero did so whilehis thoughts continued to focusinwards. A part of him thought to ask John where the broken bones had come from but something told him the old doctor wouldn't know.

He felt John's eyes watching him, and Heero mentally shook himself away from his thoughts coming back to what the doctor was doing. In between glances at Heero's face John was checking beneath each of the bandages before carefully securing them down again. “What's on your mind?” he inquired, as he continuing his work.

Heero watched for a time in silence as John's careful hands moved further down his torso till they came to the hem of his pants, and a thick bandage that was peeking up from under the edge. “How did this happen?” his eyes swept over his body, signalling without the words that his question was in reference to it all.

John's exam halted as he straightened up, to better look at Heero's face, “I'm not really surprised you don't remember,” he spoken as his hands began retying Heero's opened shirt. “I don't know all the details but I've been told that, Zechs was the one…”

A flash of memory darted from deep within his memories, but it fled before Heero could take hold of it. And all it left in its place was that gnawing ache behind his right eye, he sighed with frustration, but was willing to let it drop, after all, none of that mattered now.

“I think you ought to know,” John continued as he stood from the bed to retrieve something from the counter. “That I've been told everything, at least that is to say everything Une and Sally know about all of you Gundam Pilots.” Before returning to Heero's bedside John made several notes on the clipboard, but his gaze continued to flicker over to Heero's face.

That news didn't surprise Heero all that much, with how John had been brought into this whole mess, it only made sense to keep him here. And even back three years Sally had always been looking for someone she could trust with her five most important, and consequently most difficult patients. Heero wondered, sizing John up, how well this man would fair against any of the pilots. “Quatre revealed it all to me first, a little over a week ago. I found him standing outside your door,” John continued his work as he spoke.

“What did he tell you?” Heero wasn't just asking about information on himself, but out of all of the pilots Quatre was the one Heero couldn't remember seeing after the truth came out.

“He couldn't bring himself to see you. He was blaming himself for what happened three years back, because he couldn't piece together what you had actually meant.” John walked around to the far side of the bed moving the blankets away from Heero's right leg.

Heero tipped his head back casting his gaze towards the simple white ceiling, “Quatre always blames himself for things that are out of his control,” he explained with a sigh.

He felt more than saw John nod his head, “He had no idea what to say to you.”

“They don't need to say anything,” Heero responded immediately, wanting that to be the way, even though he knew it never could be.

“You know just as well as they do Heero,” John's voice drew his eyes even as his hand rested upon Heero's knee. “After your conversation with Relena, everything can't just be forgotten no matter how much you all want it to,” he sounded regretful in his words.

The former pilot's eyes fell closed at that, it was the truth he knew had known from the beginning. Frustration sparked within him, a tiny flame being slowly fanned to life. If he had been able to stand, to leave this damned bed, Heero would have found them alland put all the tension and fears to rest. Heero turned his attention fully over to his left arm willing the limb to move, to rise from the matrices, but his muscles would not heed his call. A hand upon his right shoulder brought Heero sharply back to the present, and his eyes fixed in a harsh glare turned towards John, though the expression was not exactly directed at him.

“Your muscles have atrophied,” John explained, although his eyes said he knew Heero was already aware of that. “In time we'll be able to work on that, but for now it's best to let your injuries heal themselves first,” he removed his hand and made his way back around the bed.

Everything was going to take time, this Heero already knew, but it was all more time than he wanted to spare. He felt anxious at the thought of what was going through his friends' minds, that he was not in control of anything anymore. That was perhaps the hardest thing to deal with, the lack of control. Heero had always been a man in total control, to be without it, was almost enough to cause panic. But Heero refused to let himself show that kind of weakness.

“So far everything looks alright,” John informed after making a few final notes on his clipboard. He then returned to Heero's bedside with the thermos now in hand, easing himself down once more on the bed. Heero watched him through lidded eyes, as he began dissembling the thermos, removing the cuplike top, and from somewhere in the side retrieving a spoon. The smell that wafted to him when John unscrewed the cap, was enough to make him shudder, he tired to suppress the feeling knowing that he'd soon be eating whatever broth was in there. John poured a portion of it into the cup, and then turned his attention fully to Heero's face. He stretched out a hand to the rail of the bed, pressing a button that raised the upper half of the bed up, so it would be easier for Heero to eat.

The moments of silence began to feel awkward as they watched each other, and it felt to Heero as though John was unsure if he could precede. Heero knew already, had know from the moment food had been mentioned that he was not going to be able to feed himself. Neither of his arms were in any condition to be used, and even if they were, Heero doubted they would have been able to manage even this simple task. It was not a blow to his pride, this was not the first time he had been fed by someone else, and if there was no other way, why even think about it. There was no getting better, no regaining his strength without eating, and until he could feed himselfon his own John was just going to have to do it for him. John's hesitation was not long lasting as he too knew there was no other way, and he took hold of the spoon carefully bringing it to Heero's mouth.

Only ever so slightly thicker than water, it felt as though it coated his whole mouth, and throat as it slid down. It made for an amazing change to the taste in his mouth, a taste he hadn't even noticed until it was gone. What surprised Heero most, was he didn't feel worse for it, he still didn't feel hungry, but at the same time he wasn't nauseous, so he willingly accepted the next. The silence between them no longer felt so heavy, as John had settled into feeding Heero, with the same relaxed air that he did every task with. But the quiet moment was not to last, it felt to Heero as though a switched had been flipped, and the sickness returned.

He tired his best to force the feeling back, to block it from his mind, as he would have been able to do at any other time. His eyes shut tight as he focused, but it was no use the feeling would not leave him. “Heero?” John's voice sounded concerned and faded as though he were talking through a thick and silencing fog. No amount of concentration was going to force this feeling aside, he could already feel bile rising in the back of his throat. It was clear John had anticipated this as he held a plastic bowl to Heero's chin.

The ache Heero felt through his whole body was nearly overwhelming as he vomited up what little he had eaten, his body rejecting it violently. It didn't take long for the food to leave his system, but the heaving didn't stop, and his thoughts scattered with the pain, making it impossible to gain a firm hold on his body. He wondered briefly if it would ever stop, as black spots began to swim before his blurring vision. Much to Heero's relief his stomach muscles finally relaxed, leaving him breathing very shallowly, and trying not to move. He was aware of John's presence hovering near him, and slowly he opened his eyes seeing John's elderly face creased with worry.

Relief over took his features as Heero came back to himself, “I'm sorry Heero.”

“Not you're fault…” he told the old doctor, trying to swallow down the terrible taste in his mouth.

“Here,” John brought forward a cup with a straw in it, “Sip at this slowly, it`s going to take time to get your stomach accepting food again.” He sighed stroking his chin in obvious thought, “It'll accept a little water, we're just going to have to try a little less broth.”

“Next time…” Heero breathed tiredly, suddenly feeling like it was a monumental effort to keep his eyes open. He just wanted to let himself fall into the blackness where the gnawing ach of his ribs would fade away.

John nodded his head slowly, as he began putting everything away again, “Get some sleep we'll try again later.” Heero's eyes fell closed at that, and instantly his thoughts fell away.

MWMWMWMWM

Heero woke suddenly, but his eyes remained closed and his breathing deep and even. Waking had become easier to do as time had passed, but it had also become something Heero dreaded. It had been four days since John had first given the broth to him, and it seemed like every time he woke, some one was waiting for him. Always they carried that thermos, and he had yet to want to actually eat what they brought him. It was unpredictable as to whether or not he'd be able to keep the food down, and that frustrated him more than anything else. He had started to consider faking sleep, but John was never fooled, somehow the old doctor could always tell.

But what had woke him this time? He heard the door slide close behind someone, as their footsteps brought them closer to the bed. Heero didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was. Zechs stopped a fair distance from the bed, and Heero could feel his heavy gaze. Not being in a mood to deal with people—having not been in that mood for some time—Heero kept his eyes closed, continuing to feign sleep. His patiencehad been slowly slipping with each passing day, and it was becoming harder and harder to keep it in check. He was neither used too nor comfortable being in this position, he being dependent on anyone. The silence that held the room was broken only by the sounds of Zechs' heavy breathing, as he quietly paced across the room at the foot of Heero's bed.

Heero couldn't tell for sure how long this went on, but as the time slipped away Zechs seemed to become more agitated. He began to mutter harshly under his breath, and though he was clearly attempting to keep his voice down, stray words found their way to Heero's ears. “…Sorry?” it was thrown out there with a dry laugh, and Heero could almost feel Zechs shaking his head as he said it. “…Won't help…” he continued as he worked away at that one poor strip of floor. Heero wondered how long this would continue, he could feel Zechs' discomfort, but he still lacked the motivation to open his eyes and say something. He felt fairly sure that it was the fact that his eyes were closed that had Zechs in here at all.

Finally Zechs dropped himself down in the chair that sat near to the bed, and it sounded to Heero like Zechs pulled both hands through his long hair with a frustrated sigh. “Why can't I find the words?” he asked into the silence. Heero hear him sit back, and could feel his heavy gaze sweeping over him. “We've fought together many times,” Zechs mused softly, “You get a real feel for the way a man thinks when you watch him fight. But there are just some things that can't be learned that way…” the last was a whisper.

“I'm sure you felt that way, when I took on the earth with White Fang,” he paused for a moment, sitting forward suddenly. “What's so different about these two situations? It looked to the whole world like I had betrayed them, that I would go to the extreme length to end the war. Hell the world was almost destroyed if it hadn't been for you…” Zechs trailed off and silence reclaimed the room.

“Look at me, I turned my back on the earth, threatened to destroy it, and they make me king,” his words were clearly disgusted. “Why couldn't I see? Why did I let myself be blinded by rage?” frustration permeated his voice as he spoke shaking his head, “I didn't even bother to leave hints so people would know what I was trying to do, I hadn't cared.”

“You left us those hints, and we couldn't even bother to see them. I hated you the moment I found out, and it only strengthened when I was forced to tell Relena.” Heero found himself flinching at that thought, and he hoped Zechs had not noticed. “And then when I got you out…” Heero thought he heard Zechs shudder, “I just stopped thinking, I was drowning in my rage, and I reacted.” The sound of his knuckles popping reached Heero's ears, as Zechs clenched both fist. “That doesn't excuse it I know, I'm not trying to excuse it…I'm…I……Damnit!” Zechs was on his feet again pacing the room, “Why can't I find the words?”

Heero let his eyes open the barest fraction, seeing Zechs for the first time since he had been able to tell them what really happened. The platinum haired man had begun to pace again, his facean unreadable mask, his eyes a torrent of emotions. “She's your sister…” Heero offered into the near silence.

Zechs' steps halted instantly and he turned to face Heero, his expression still unreadable, though Heero noted surprise was in his eyes. They remained like that for several minutes, Zechs appearing tense as though he might beconsider bolting, but Heero knew him better, knew Zechs was too strong a man for that. Slowly his stance relaxed, as he took a step closer to the foot of the bed, “I should have known you'd be awake…”

“Since you came in,” Heero confirmed.

The former Lightning Count dropped his head, as his hands moved to grip the tall rail that ran along the edge of the bed. “It's not enough…” he began looking at Heero through the tops of his eyes, there was a great deal of intensity in those icy orbs. “It's not enough that she's my sister, I shouldn't have let myself lose control like that.”

Heero could understand where he was coming from, but still to this day he couldn't remember the incident happening, “I don't even remember…” he knew that wouldn't change anything, nothing really could.

The silence that stretched out between them felt hard almost impassable, Heero had expected this, knew he was going to have to deal with it for all of them. “I wish that would help…” Zechs whispered shaking his head, “I wish there was something I could say.”

“I'm sorry, has always been enough for me,” Heero offered and hoped it might be enough to move them past this point.

Zechs stared at him intently, appearing to force his eyes to remain on him, Heero watched back, waiting to see what Zechs would choose to do. “I won't ever be enough,” he began straightening and stepping around the bed Zechs came to Heero's right side. “But I'm sorry,” he lowered himself back into the chair he had been sitting in before.

Heero let his head fall to the side so he could better see the other man, “It's in the past now,” he told him simply fully intending not to discuss the matter again, at least with Zechs. “So what's been happening?” he inquired knowing Zechs would read into the vague question to see what he was referring too. It might have been considered a touchy subject to closely tied to what they had just put behind them, but Heero needed to know what the pilots were planning to do about the Inner Circle and what information he could impart to them.

“Nothing,” Zechs told him simply enough leaning back in his chair appearing more relaxed now that the conversation had turned to business. It was easier to forget that Heero was lying in the bed, the vast majority of his injuries caused by Zechs' hand. “We know what you told us in the file, but nothing else, the others have been searching with every spare moment, but we never really expected to find anything.”

He wasn't surprised by this, and he could tell Zechs wasn't also. The group was elusive and they prided themselves on that. “I can give you about a dozen names,” he began eyes closing briefly only to see the names as though running before his eyes in a neat list, it had taken him three long years to compile just that many. Each one seemed to mock him and his inability to bring this organization to the ground. “Each member is only supposed to know two others, what information we need it passed through word of mouth.”

“Only twelve?” Zechs sounded surprised by this.

“The men who comprise the Inner Circle are fiercely loyal, and not just anyone is accepted in.” Heero could feel his throat beginning to dry, and he paused hoping to stave off the painful cough he could feel coming. Zechs, having been watching intently saw what was about to happen and brought a cup of water close to Heero's head, so the straw was nearly touching his lips. Giving a nod of appreciation Heero sipped slowly at the drink before continuing. “They have men everywhere, anyone not one hundred percent committed was not accepted, and often times removed completely.”

“So they'd see through someone trying to infiltrate…” Zechs mused to himself, “Unless they could create the perfect cover,” the last sounded slightly bitter to Heero's ears. “What about here? Do they have anyone in the Defence Corp?”

“Not that I'm aware of…” Heero told him slowly, “They functioned mostly in the colonies, and kept the vast majority of their numbers on Freedom's Point. If they ever needed info from another source they'd send someone if they couldn't get it by other means first.” He took a few more sips of the water, having not spoken this much in a long time.

“Does anyone know who's in charge?” was Zechs' next question.

Heero shook his head briefly, “Only the second and third, I could only back trace so far, and then they discovered who I was…” that had been the end of it all.

The platinum haired man sighed resting the side of his face in one hand, “What about the brand?”

“As it said in the file, that was the distinguishing mark for all members, a phoenix on the chest. Easily concealed but still easy to show when necessary,” it had been a difficult aspect of the mission, to make the brand believable while avoiding having to actually brand himself. The last thing he had wanted after pulling that trigger was to mark himself permanently with the symbol of the organisation he planed to destroy.

“And what of yours?” Zechs asked as Heero expected he would.

“Faked,” was the simple truth of the matter, his eyes traveled down to his chest covered by both the blankets and his shirt, but he knew no brand marred his skin.

Zechs nodded mutely, and silence took the room again, but this time Heero was pleased to see it was no longer awkward. The former OZ Commander was clearly more relaxed than he had been when he entered the room, over an hour ago. “How is Une planning to proceed?” he was fairly sure he knew what she'd be thinking but he wanted to be sure.

“Nothing until we're sure we can get them all in one sweep,” he shifted a little in his chair, so slight was the movement it most likely would have been missed by anyone not as observant as a former Gundam pilot. To Heero's eyes it looked to him as though Zechs had suddenly become uncomfortable, not just anything could do that to him. What Zechs said next told Heero what had caused it. “They're not likely to make a move until they've completed Zero, and without you that's libel to take them a great deal longer. I wish I could say the upper hand was ours, we know where they're located and even where the Gundam is being built, but we don't know who all of them are…”

Heero nodded slowly having expected nothing less from Une and the others, “I can give you a place to start, maybe you'll have better luck than I did…”

“We do have access to a few more resources than you did,” Zechs agreed not sounding thrilled about it.

His eyes fell closed as he spoke each name giving Zechs time to write them all down, perhaps with enough time they'd be able track this organisation back to its head. He didn't hold out much hope that that would be possible, but finding the head had never been the real goal, just putting a stop to them at any cost.

MWMWMWM

Une sat in the silence of her office, a budget report held loosely in one hand, as she mentally double checked the numbers presented to her. It had amazed her how quickly the world moved on, away from the shocking news of Heero's death. Of course that was only speaking about the news media, there were plenty of people out there who would looking to make a buck on this event. Une had already caught word of several books, and at least one movie and TV special that were now in the works. She wondered if these people had been waiting all this time on the edge of their seats for this `last' part of Heero's life before they truly started their works. It disgusted her to think how they'd fly off the shelves when presented to the public, there was no possible way any of them could hold even a glimmer of truth. But Une had known for a long time, in truth used this knowledge for her own gain more than once, that the public preferred rumour to truth.

Sitting forward Une took up her pen, and signed off on the report satisfied with the figures she had come up with. She then slipped it in a folder and slipped into a basket on the edge of her desk, that her secretary would empty later that day. The door at the far side of her office opened suddenly and Une looked up in surprise a shark rebuke dying on her tongue when she saw that it was Zechs who chose to enter her office unannounced. She stood to greet her once rival properly, and he accepted her hand in a strong grip before taking a seat across her desk. Une assessed the king at a glance seeing a look of stress around his eyes, and those eyes were offering Une a rare glimpse into the emotions behind. It was clear he was at war within himself, there were feelings of good like he might have accomplished something very hard, but for each goodthing there, there was something to equal it in bad. Self hatred seemed at the forefront of this, and even now Une was fairly sure she knew where Zechs had come from.

“What brings you here?” she asked, breaking the lingering silence, Zechs didn't appear to be in any rush to start talking.

“I went to see him…” Zechs said after clearing his throat, he straightened in his chair his face assuming a mask of indifference. Une knew how taxing it was to wear that mask all the time, dropping it—if only for a moment—was enough to help them wear it perfectly in the public eye, where there could be no slips.

“And how is he doing?” she hadn't been able to find a reason to be in that section of the agency and not wanted to raise questions she had kept away.

“As well as can be expected I guess,” that took effort for him to say, but he did it without flinching.

Une watched him silently, knowing that was not all he was going to say, but as the silence continued to stretch, she found herself sitting forward in her chair. “And?” she prompted softly.

Zechs blinked and gave his head a slight shake “He was able to give me twelve names,” from the inside pocket of his black business suit Zechs withdrew a sheet of folded paper and passed it across the table.

Taking the paper Une unfolded it her eyes scrolling down the names, not recognising one of them, “Members of the Inner Circle?” she asked already expecting that to be the case.

“Yes, three years, and that's all he was able to get,” he sighed coming to his feet, and strode over to her window. “It doesn't bode well for us, I doubt if we'll ever be able to name them all, least of all the heads.”

Une rocked her chair back slowly, while her eyes continued to study the list, “You're right but that's why we're going to have to find another way to approach this, before they're ready to use Zero.”

“That gives us a good deal of time,” Zechs glanced her way as he spoke, there was something in his tone that caught Une.

“What's on your mind?” she inquired placing the paper safely in the front drawer of her desk.

Silence was his response as he looked away as though trying to pretend what he had let slip hadn't happened. Une waited patiently knowing Zechs better than most, she could read him,there was something he wanted to say but, at the same time would rather not. “He has no idea…” was Zechs' slow beginning, “He thinks he's escaped the Inner Circle without the brand.”

Une studied him critically, was that what this was about? She hadn't seen the brand but had been informed that Heero had been marked by them. It had been Duo who brought this information to her, and it was he who was searching for anything he could find on when it had been done. “Do you think it will bother him all that much?” Une could understand the outrage at something being done to your person against your will. But Heero was such a strong man, she had trouble imagining him so bothered by it, “He's one of the strongest men I know.”

“I wore the mark of the White Fang…” Zechs said with a sigh his ice blue eyes remaining fixed on the world outside her window. “It was just the uniform, with a band on the sleeve, but I hated it. It was the clear signal that I had betrayed the earth, and Treize, it doesn't matter that Treize could see what I had planed.”

He paused then, but Une remained silent knowing Zechs was not finished. It was obvious where he was going with thisand it was going to take him several moments to gather his thoughts. “It was something I could take off and leave behind me. I'm no longer a part of White Fang.” Zechs turned to look at her, then his expression hardened, “Heero doesn't have that option, the Inner Circle doesn't wear a uniform. There's nothing he can take off to put them behind him. He thinks himself separate from them because he doesn't have the brand.” He walked away from the window back to the chair he had been in before, “How do you think he'll feel when he finds out he didn't escape it?”

Une considered this for a moment, “You think, we should tell him? It's not really something he needs to be thinking about right now.” John had been firm, when the brand had been discovered. He didn't want it mentioned, and Une could see where he was coming from; she left the issue in his capable hands.

The king just shrugged his face looking displeased, there was no simple answer, and no happy outcome to any of this. But at least for now they could forget about some things, worry about them when the time came. “All I'm saying is I think, keeping it from him could turn out to be worse in the long run,” Zechs told her finally, moving to the edge of his seat as though ready to leave.

Swivelling her chair around so she was completely facing him Une opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by the buzz of her intercom. She put her thought to the side as she picked up her phone, “Ma'am Dante is waiting for you on line one, should I patch him through?”

“Just one moment please,” Une pressed her hand to the phone and looked back to Zechs who was already coming to his feet. “We're done here?” she inquired.

“Yeah,” he breathed making his way over to the door, “You'll be sure Duo gets those names…” it was neither a question nor a direct order, just a simple reminder.

“I will,” that said Zechs left without comment, and Une turned her mind to other matters. Returning the receiver to her ear Une spoke, “Put him through to my vid-phone.”

“Yes Ma'am,” her secretary responded curtly.

Placing the phone down Une turned her chair and switched the afore mentioned phone on, seeing Dante's handsome face almost immediately. He offered her a warm and pleasant smile before his expression became serious once more. It was clear that this was a business call, but it wasn't like that was a disappointment for Une, most of their conversations were business based. Still they seemed to connect no matter what they were talking about. “You're looking well my Lady,” he greeted her in very much the same way Treize would have.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked with a smile of her own. They were in an unknown position, the world was unaware of their relationship because quite frankly neither of them were that sure where they stood. Une was attracted to Dante, there was no question about that, but both of their positions made any serious relationship difficult. So they had to make do with the distance, there conversations holding a very personal undercurrent.

“I wish it could just be the pleasure of hearing your voice,” Dante sighed his smile fading, “But in all honestly I'm calling on Ash's behalf.”

At that moment all subtle flirting ended, where Ash was concerned it felt totally wrong to do so. Une was well aware of how hard the news of Heero's `death' had hit the man, and that she was now seen as the bringer of death. It certainly put tension into Une and Dante's relationship, as Ash was Dante's right hand man in all things. “And what can I do for him?” Une leaned to one side in her chair resting her head lightly upon one hand.

“As you know three weeks from now a conference is being held at the palace, I along with President Winner will be present for this conference,” Dante sat behind his desk in a relaxed manor. Une had been around him, and spoken to him enough to read beyond that, and see what lay behind. He was not happy about doing this, but his loyalty to Ash was very strong, he was always watching out for his friend. “I've learned recently that Ash believes my relationship with you, is keeping me from pressing about Heero's death.”

“I've already told you all I can about that,” she straightened, not liking telling this man a lie, but she was bound to this there was no way out of it, at least not that she herself could see.

Dante nodded immediately, very apologetic, “I know, but I was wondering if it might be possible to have Ash speak with the doctor who had been attending to Heero. Just so he can see that everything had been done to try and save him.” The independent leader sighed eyes flickering away from the screen, “I just want him to be able to put this behind him.”

The commander considered his request quickly, mind looking it over carefully. Could she grant this request? Outwardly she couldn't see any real problems, John was more than capable of answering any questions, and his kind nature would put a better face of this whole matter than was already there. Une knew she'd have to discuss this with the others and John himself before she would be able to fully commit to this. “I believe we might be able to arrange something, but…”

“I know,” Dante broke in quickly one hand raised, and the smile returned to his face, “We don't intend to take without offering something in return, the only question is, what is it you'd like?” At any other time Une would have expected a flirtatious undertone in that question, but there was nothing there now.

Une's mind raced, what could she request that would be of use? She was reminded of the list of names sitting in her drawer, and an idea came to her suddenly. “We've been left with a lot of questions about Heero's past. Anything you can tell me about those three years he was with you, might help.”

“I'll speak to Ash, he spent more time with Heero than anyone,” Dante nodded appearing both pleased and relieved that they had come to an agreement. “I'll be in touch again before the conference,” he offered her a genuine smile.

Returning the expression, her mind still working, Une switched off the vid-phone once Dante had cut the signal. Only seconds passed before Une was reaching for the phone and dialling Wufei's cell. She was not made to wait long, “Wufei here,” the Chinese man answered clearly.

“Wufei, I need you to send John to my office when he comes in tonight,” she told him getting right to the point.

“What's come up?” he asked voice smooth and deep.

“Dante called, he proposed an exchange of information, at the conference three weeks from now,” Une informed laying her free hand out on her desk to finger at the pen resting there.

“What does he want to know?” Wufei inquired.

“He wants Ash to speak with John, to put to rest how Heero died.”

“And he's offering…” the Chinese man left it open, awaiting her response.

Une took hold of the pen spinning it through her fingers without thought, “Any and all information on Heero's life during the three years he was with them.”

“You hoping for something on the Inner Circle?”

“Perhaps, you're aware of the twelve names?” she asked in return.

“Zechs mentioned them in passing when he went up to see you, do you want me to start working them up?”

“No,” Une said resisting the urge to shake her head despite the fact Wufei couldn't even see her. “I'll have Duo take a look into them, you just keep your focus on Heero for now.”

“Besides checking on him every couple of hours my time is free, best to let me make the most of it,” Wufei countered quickly. “If you like you can split the work between us, let me have half and Duo can take care of the rest.”

Une considered this for a moment, and couldn't deny the logic of Wufei's thinking, reaching into her desk Une withdrew the piece of paper, and read off half the names. There was a moment of silence, “So you're going to have John speak with Ash and Dante, about what killed Heero? You don't think that might cause more problems for us?” the Chinese man questioned moving back to the problem at hand.

“I'll speak with John to be sure, but I think it should be fine, besides I'd very much like to know how Heero spent his time with them.” She dropped the pen down on the table leaning her chair back so her eyes were studying the ceiling.

“I think John will feel the same way.”

“Good, make sure he comes up to my office as soon as he gets here,” Une sat forward in her chair preparing to hang up the phone.

“I'll tell him,” without bothering with the goodbyes Wufei shut off his cell, and Une hung up the phone. This day was turning out to be more productive than she had begun to hope for.

Thanks for Reading!

The Breaking Point:

Wufei grunted at the effort it took to carry Luc's heavy body, as he and Duo walked out into the hall, leaving Heero's room behind. The Chinese man hoped John had more luck with Heero than they had, knowing thatnothing was going to make this easier. Wufei felt the familiar feeling of wanting to go back and change what had happened, stop it from ever having transpired. Knowing it was useless to dwell on something he had no power over Wufei pushed it aside and focused his thoughts on the task at hand. How were they going to dispose of the body without attracting dangerous attention? That wasn't an easy question to answer, any sort of attention on this was going to be bad attention, everything right now led back to Heero, something they couldn't let happen.

Wufei's steps halted immediately drawing Duo's eyes to him, “We can't go down to the morgue like this,” he said, and watched as the light of realisation entered his friend's large eyes.

“There's no way we can explain this…” Duo mused aloud, it was clear his mind had not been thinking all that coherently up to this point. Slowly he lowered the blanket wrapped body to the ground, eyes looking to Wufei for a suggestion.

His mind turned the problem over quickly searching for the simplest most believable answer, only one solution played out in his mind, and Wufei reached for the knife he had added to the blankets, he took a moment to wipe it clean before handing it hilt first to Duo, “Stab me,” he told him simply.

Duo's dark eyes flew wide, and he looked about ready to object when it seemed to hit him, and he realised where Wufei might have been going with this. “You can't think of anything better than that?” his hand had yet to move from his side.

“Nothing that isn't going to be more complicated, and the more complicated we get, the more loop holes there may be.” Wufei reached across to Duo placing the knife in his hand by force, but kept his eyes on the other pilot's face. “Luc was jealous of Heero, because she still loved him, it's not so much of a stretch to say Luc was jealous of me, for all the time I spend with her. I never liked him to begin with, and that had never been hidden.”

“So then the story is, he came at you with this knife, and we shot him…” his eyes were on the knife now as he switched his grip on it. He didn't look at all pleased about this, but it didn't take much to see that it was their only option. They stepped away from Luc's body together moving more towards the center of the hallway, watching each other in silence Wufei motioned for his left arm. “Ready?” Duo asked eyes flickering down to the knife, his voice sounded hollow as though he had distanced himself from this. Wufei didn't blame him, he didn't like putting Duo in this situation at all.

Morganeth Taren'drel