Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ My Empire of Dirt ❯ Again and Again. ( Chapter 2 )

Note: HUGE glompness to the best beta in the world, my wonderful meritjubet. Me loves her muchly.

 

Pairs this chapter: past refs to 1xR and 6x9

 

 

1. Again and Again

 

If Chicken Little tells you that the sky is fallin'
Even if it wasn't would you still come crawlin'
Back again?
I bet you would my friend
Again and again and again and again and again...

--Aerosmith

 

**

 

A lone figure stared up at the titan screen hanging over the square, a single stranger among thousands. He wore blonde hair cut crudely at the nape of his neck, with a dark cap pulled over solid black sunglasses to shield his tired eyes from the knowing blank stare of the screen above him. His body was drenched in a full black leather duster, his hands encased in worn cut off gloves that were balled into tight fists of steel. He was gritting his teeth, and growling low in his throat--so deadly was the sound that others near him shifted away, molding into the faceless mass of people that took one glance and immediately forgot to whom they were gazing upon.

 

There was a deep frown on the stranger's concealed face, and if you knew what you were looking at, it was a sure sign of depression so intense, it would have pulled any ordinary man down to his knees. He wavered slightly, his eyes flashing with bitterness, but he stood his ground, far used to the mental torment to give in years after the scars had already healed over. He watched the crowds around him in dull wonder, unsure what to think of them or how to react around them. They knew nothing, and it disturbed him.

 

It's so easy to forget when you didn't want to remember, he thought...

 

The people noticed nothing, some ignoring his presence completely as they became immediately entranced by the screen raised above them. A face suddenly appeared there, dressed carefully neutral, powerfully demanding the world's attention by presence alone. Written below the face in bold Arial letters was the name Quatre Raberba Winner, president of the United Earth Sphere Alliance (UESA), and everyone in the square gave murmurs of political gossip, pointing to the screen in jabs and exclamations. The stranger watched with odd detachment, knowing the face on that screen very well and all the lies of pleasantry that it promised with the political smile glued to his face. However pleasant Quatre used to be or claimed to be before his public, everyone who knew him personally knew that Quatre Raberba Winner had not been pleasant for a very long time--not since Relena had died. The entire world hadn't been pleasant since then, but Quatre was one the few--one the five--who took that death very personally. They had all been close. A long time ago.

 

The stranger snorted, dully. It was rather amazing what that young man on the screen above him had managed to accomplish in his ten years since the war, pleasant or not, and no one, especially not he, could deny it. From gundam pilot, to WEI head, to representative of his home L4 colony, to a strong voice in the UESA council, and to finally, the very top of the UESA itself--Quatre was and always had been a very successful leader in the world, one that many quickly learned the dangers in underestimating. Not that anyone knew of Quatre's origins as a gundam pilot, let alone once being the very same who had destroyed a half-evacuated L4 colony, killing thousands and thousands of innocent people... but that was war, and it was classified information anyway. Most people had the minds of forgiving such grievances from war times--thanks to the memory of Relena--and those who did know certain information about Quatre (or the rest of them) that they weren't supposed to know were already dead regardless, or had disappeared very silently into the night.

 

The others--the stranger himself included--would probably kill you if you ever mentioned it because it wasn't something that the world needed to know, especially now that Relena was dead. The last thing anyone wanted was yet another war, and it was a shock to discover how much her presence tamed things--she affected a lot, Relena... It was only truly seen on such a scale the very day of her death, when the world had teetered in an outrage not seen since Mariemaia's Uprising. There very well might have been war, a very bad one, if Quatre hadn't been in the UESA presidency and used every last ounce of his newly won position to stop it. He had gifts, sure, and he was a genius at leadership, but it took his very soul to calm things down that day... there was something about Relena that gave the world peace, and Quatre was a warrior--he didn't do peace. Not alone. Not like that. With Relena dead, the world was back into its old patterns again, and everyone, even months later, was still furious about it.

 

They were blood-thirty, the entire lot of them. And all for one man, because of one woman's death.

 

Four months, and two days counting. The week before Relena Peacecraft was murdered, Quatre Raberba Winner had just won his office in the UESA, and furious, he had offered two hundred thousand million of his own money (already spent exhaustively on his election) to the man who could find Milliardo Peacecraft aka Zechs Merquise and bring him to justice. Alive, preferably.

 

Quatre wanted his head.

 

And trust, he wasn't the only one.

 

The face above the square, seeming to stare right down into the stranger's eyes, spoke in a low voice. It was live feed, direct from the capital.

 

"Tonight, I speak not as a leader of worlds or as a voice of government. I speak not to the people, I speak not to the sphere. I speak to one man, and one man only." The stranger's heart lurched, suddenly, thrown from his thoughts. What in blazes was Quatre doing? There were voices rumbling around him, disturbed. Quatre never spoke in the formal tongue twisters of traditional government--he had said once that he preferred honesty, and one could not be honest when he struggled with his manners. He was well admired for it, though most didn't understand the concept. It was far too abrupt than people were used to.

 

The stranger frowned, listening carefully. Quatre continued into the world's stoney silence, whispers hanging onto his every word. "Little less than three months ago, the Lady Relena Darlian Peacecraft was brutally murdered... and the leading suspect remains to be her brother Milliardo Peacecraft, who is still missing. As you may know, I have set a personal reward of two hundred thousand million credits to the man that can find him and bring him to Preventer. That reward has been raised."

 

The stranger shook just barely. Someone near him shouted vulgarity in Milliardo's name, and another round of voices agreed, some laughing, some cursing. Quatre's smile was like a razor on his soul.

 

"We, the council of the UESA and gracious donors of the Sphere, are now offering one point two billion credits, if he is brought to us alive. There will be no reward, however, if he is brutally injured or killed. Relena Peacecraft was a woman this world will forever cherish, and I knew her well. She would not like harm done to her brother for useless means." A narrow of the eyes, and the subtle glare of incomprehensible power. "I will not stop until her death is brought justice, whether or not it be by her brother's hands. Milliardo will be given a fair trial, and in that trial, we will determine the truth." There was a sigh, and a subtle shake of the head. "If there is one among us with information, please contact local Preventer and you will be given anonymous protection. The UESA gives all grievances to the people of Sanc, as well as those close to the Peacecraft family..."

 

Close to the Peacecraft family...

 

There was no one left.

 

The stranger's vision blurred and he heard only droning as Quatre continued his address, moving on immediately to other hot topics that needed attention, such as the mysterious Ghost Massacres on Mars, which had been occurring irregularly for a few years now. There was no doubt that Quatre would have that particular problem solved by the end of the year, even if it meant going to Mars himself to discover the truth of the matter. The rumors about the massacres were unsettling--rumors of extraterrestrial activity... of things beyond human.

 

The last president couldn't have given a damn--it was on Mars, and Mars was much too far from Earth to bother. But Quatre had been determined to figure it out, especially lately, as the deaths slowly increased. Six hundred fifty seven people were already dead, sixty-nine still missing. The blonde knew the price of such lives... and the stranger, having been on Mars several times himself, had seen such a massacre with his own eyes just before his leave there--one of the first massacres to be known, in fact. He knew full well that what happened there wasn't human, and vaguely, it had intrigued him at the time... so much in fact, that while he was still there, he even spoke to Quatre about it, and Quatre agreed that was it was problem worth looking into. But now, it was different. Now, years later, despite how hard the UESA put into the effort of hunting him down for Relena's murder, he would never go back Mars to hide, not for anything. Not even to dodge the UESA for a crime he did not commit--he knew better, because something very bad was happening on Mars, and he respected things like that. He had enough trouble already.

 

Of course, they'd be looking for him there, anyway. Mars and Milliardo Peacecraft went way back and a lot of people knew it.

 

Quatre was a good leader. He was intelligent, compassionate, and he understood things most men couldn't comprehend. The stranger wished dully that he could more like Quatre... Quatre was the kind of man that Sanc needed, wasn't it?

 

He breathed through his teeth.

 

It was similar to the way Quatre was treating Relena's murder, and Milliardo Peacecraft, claimed murderer, on the run. It was obvious that Quatre believed Milliardo was guilty, and even if he assumed the name of fairness, Quatre in a rage was a fearful thing to face. The man was stubborn to the highest degree, and one way or another, Milliardo would be found, and then he would be beaten down, probably even killed. The case would be solved, truth or no truth. After all, it was no secret that Heero Yuy took Relena's case full time, and had been hunting him nonstop since the murder. Obsessed. Quatre put Heero there purposefully, and Heero wanted him dead.

 

Heero had been Relena's husband. They had a son named Cipher. His nephew. His brother-in-law. His sister.

 

Gone.

 

It made the stranger's heart ache, and dimly, he shuddered. He did not want to meet Heero Yuy, not in a position like that.

 

He stiffened suddenly, unmoving as he heard the unmistakable click of a loaded gun, cold barrel jammed up his back in a swift, easy movement. A woman's body pressed against him, familiar, and a voice whispered into his ear. He did not move.

 

"You look good for a wanted man, Zechs."

 

There was only one person in the entire space of the universe who could come upon him like that and live. He did not relax, but his fists were open, bared. Ready to strike. With a cool voice and stable eyes, he said only, "Noin," and stared straight ahead.

 

He felt her smile. Her hands touched his side, roving down in the way she knew his body so well, dipping into his coat to brush against his thigh before pulling the energy pistol out of his holster. After taking the gun away, her hand returned to his hip, resting there. When she breathed against his ear again, he couldn't stop his shudder.

 

He had loved her, once. Maybe he still did. It didn't matter anymore.

 

"Did you steal this lovely coat?" She plucked at the leather, intrigued. "It's rather pricey, not that I have any complaints. It looks dead sexy on you. Should've worn it sooner, maybe I'd have fucked you into loving me a little more. Would've been fun, don't you think?"

 

He ignored the implications. "A friend leant it to me," he said without thinking.

 

He cursed silently. He could almost see her brow arch in the back of his skull. "You have friends?" She laughed sourly, a rough puff of air against the nape of his neck. It felt odd against his short, raggedly cut hair. "I don't believe it."

 

He shrugged and fought against the sudden swell of his emotions. Truth was, he didn't have many.

 

"Interesting," she said. Now that she knew that Zechs was getting help, and she would be running all over the sphere calling up old contacts, trying to find out who it was. He worried for his 'friend' a moment or two, and then settled for the fact that he never asked for that mysterious 'friend's' help in the first place. If the old man was willing to help him despite his warnings on the contrary, then he might as damn well be ready to accept the consequences. This was Milliardo's life, the Bloodied Prince. The media had nicknamed him that after the murder, and it fit him rather well, so well that he even thought liked it, in a bitter way. Everyone always risked something for Zechs, and in the end, they always paid for it with their lives. He was long used to that by now after watching too many of his friends die with his name strangled in their throats.

 

The blood on his hands itched. He scratched at it absently, an old habit that never died. He never wanted it. Not once. And he knew it wasn't fair, but he didn't care anymore. He just shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and forced himself to stay sane, no matter how badly he wanted to embrace the shards of his soul and bleed to death.

 

He stood like a stone.

 

He knew she smiled at him, sensing his thoughts--he could feel it, but he knew it was the bitter smile that she had come so common to wearing these days... the one that Zechs himself had put there through years of rejection and abuse. He had turned her into the cold hard bitch she pretended to be now, for the sake of her own sanity. She hated him, probably moreso than Heero Yuy did. And she had good reason to, just like Heero Yuy did.

 

She loved him, and even though at one time he had loved her in return, he never once showed her the affection, not outside of sex. He simply abandoned her, no note, no call. He left her there in that room on Mars on the night they had first made love since Victoria, since OZ, since too many years, and then she was never the same again. He left her there on Mars alone without a word. He just left. Eight years ago.

 

She had been pregnant. Condom tore, maybe the pill didn't work, whatever it was, she bore it alone and she went through her labor alone. She never called to tell Zechs, she never told anyone, not until her son had been born several months later and she was back on Earth. Her son didn't even carry his name, and he never once saw him... ever. Not even a picture. He tried, hell, Relena had screamed to her about it, everyone tried, but Noin never let him, and their son had simply become just another shadow in the line of regrets Zechs constantly bore in his face. Just another mistake. Noin hated him for it, and some ways, he hated Noin for making him regret it and making his son that mistake. It was his fault, she said, that her son didn't know a father, his fault that he left that station on Mars, and she wasn't going to forgive him. She wouldn't let him forgive himself. She wouldn't let him be the father he was supposed to be. That he wanted to be.

 

He wanted to hate her like she hated him, and he couldn't.

 

It wasn't fair. His son was about eight years old now, and he'd never once met his father, a father that wanted to know him so damned dearly. It wasn't fair. It wasn't. Not even a little. But it was what he deserved, as he told himself every night before that mirror and hollowed face. It was what he deserved for being who he was.

 

Damn it.

 

"Yes," he said carefully deadpan, "...it is interesting, isn't it, Noin? I have people who know how to forgive me."

 

The hand on his hip became painful as fingernails suddenly dug into his skin. Her voice was quietly furious. "You can change your name, change your face, cut your hair, die it black, shield your eyes, and walk a different beat, but in the end, I'll always find you Zechs. I know you too well, especially after all these years. I loved you, remember?" There is rough sigh and the fingers lighten. They stroke softly, the voice thoughtful in his ear. "There is no one alive in this entire fucking Sphere who knows you better than I do. And I don't give a damn if they think you killed Relena or not. I know you didn't, because like I said, I know you only too well. I remember how you obsessed about her, constantly worried about her, wondering if she knew about her real name, her dead family, her forgotten brother. If she was happy, if she was safe, if Darlian was doing his job... oh how I know how much you cared for her. Hell, I cared for her just the same, because I cared too much for you. I remember how you asked me to look after her. How I risked my life to protect her, time and time again, just because I loved you. I remember everything, Zechs. There is no way you killed her."

 

He spun suddenly in her arms and Noin let him. He faced her eye to eye, and noticed that her own gaze was trembling slightly. She was upset. He wondered why, and his voice became cold. "If you know the truth," he said slowly, "...than why is there a gun at my chest?" Why are you hunting me like I'm a murderer if you know that I didn't do it?

 

"Because I hate you," she spat, "...and I want to make your life a living hell. That's why."

 

But even then, it didn't make any sense to Zechs. In the same way that Noin knew him, he knew Noin, and he knew she was too stubborn and self-righteous for her own good. She would never do something so base. She didn't have it in her--she had her own reason for their son and for hating Zechs, but they were reasons beyond simple vindictive tendencies, and even then, it was because she felt that she had been wronged and she wanted to protect her son from the horrors of the truth. Noin would never ever capture Zechs for killing Relena unless she really believed that he killed Relena, and it was obvious that she didn't. There was a different reason she was standing there with that gun shoved in his face, but before he could challenge her about it, she interrupted him.

 

"If I wanted to capture you, you know full well that I would have done it by now. That's not why I'm here, pumpkin. Shame really, because one point two billion credits would do me a world of good, don't you think?" Her body closed in on him, and he let her, standing still as she pressed up against him again. He felt the barrel of her gun shove its way up his shirt. He looked into her eyes and he knew that she was giving him this information simply because she felt that somehow, it helped her own means. She was long passed servitude under his broken pedestal, and she didn't pretend to admire him anymore. She was simply using him for something. She smiled darkly into his eyes, and Zechs had to look away. He didn't like how much Noin had changed, he didn't like how cold she'd become. It was like losing another sister all over again.

 

Because that's what Noin had been to him. A sister. Not a lover. That's why he had left her in the first place. He couldn't stand that kind of guilt, that kind of... odd sensation. It was too much for him.

 

She swayed his thoughts, brushing up against him like a whore. She was only doing it to disgust him, and it was working very well.

 

Her voice was dull. "Une fired me from Relena's case. Yuy's influence. He's psychotically obsessed, and drenched in his own power right now. You wouldn't believe how much he hates you... I've never seen him hate anyone like that. I think he knew full well that I was too close to you, and he was right, which is why I'm on paid leave and also why there's a tail following me around--oh don't worry, he's in a closet back at the shuttleport, should be waking up about now with one hell of a headache." A smirk that almost seemed like the old Noin. His heart lurched in pain. "I'm not going help Yuy capture you, in fact, I'm going to help you run from him, because I know that you didn't do it and Yuy is far too gone to care either way. I need you for the time being, you understand. You're the only one who knows what happened in that room. And you see... I loved Relena just as much as you did... maybe just as much as Yuy did. Even if she didn't forgive me for hating you, she was nice, Zechs, and I loved her. She was... special. I want her real killer dead. I want her real killer to suffer. You're going to help me find him, and when you do, you're going to help me kill the bastard. Slowly. Understand?"

 

He stepped back in surprise, and she kept her gun trained on him. He lifted in eyebrow, intrigued, and in the deep shadow of his sunglasses, his blue eyes glinted strangely. He lifted a hand, brushing the crude cut of hair at the nape of his neck. He'd cut it with a knife he found in a dark alley a week after Relena's murder. He had been desperate, and he was still debating on dyeing it... he hadn't yet, and for some reason, it was painful enough to cut the mane, and he didn't want to destroy it entirely. Not yet. His hair used to be the only thing that he could trust, because it was his and it reminded him of his fallen family. He didn't want to forget that, not yet, not ever. Not even now, when everyone but a woman who hated him believed a lie that wasn't true.

 

He looked at Noin, his head tilted, and folded his arms over his chest. "Give me back my gun, and I'll consider it."

 

She snorted. "Go to hell."

 

He shrugged and turned. He heard that gun click again. He stopped a moment and said, "If you think you can threaten me with my life, you're mistaken, Noin. I want to die."

 

"Who says I'm going to kill you with this? You're coming with me one way or--" Before she could finish, Zechs spun and knocked the gun out of her hand. It clattered on the pavement, and the people around them gave startled noises, scurrying out of the way like rats from a fire. Zechs came in with another fist, but she saw the second blow coming and blocked, kicking him hard in the groin. He fell. Never missing a beat, she kicked him again to keep him down and pulled out the energy pistol she'd stolen from him earlier and shot him in the arm. When he started to get back up yet again, struggling, she shook her head sadly, as if amused, and punched him very hard in the right temple. He fell back to the ground, a wave of pain washing over him before there was only darkness.

 

Noin stood over him, wringing her hand in pain and grimacing, before pocketing both guns, eyes grazing his form. Her fists shook from something far more than the weather when she lifted him away and dragged him to a car waiting nearby.

 

Violence was common on this L2 colony, and no one cared to pay very much attention. They were too busy watching the screen above them, Quatre's voice leading them all into chorus like children at a play.

 

The stage was set. A man in the shadows grinned, his teeth glinting dangerously. He pulled a phone from his pocket, hitting speed-dial. When a voice answered, he said three words.

 

"She's got him."

 

And he hung up.