Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Parallel ❯ Universal Balance ( Chapter 5 )

Who knows what mechanisms are at play in the complex balancing of the universe, the large and small events that lead to the present every being lives in, and the futures we all await. Those who contemplate these miracles of complexity inevitably face the choice between a fervent respect for sheer chance, or a spiritual leap into the realm of fate. Most of us just maneuver through our lives trying our best to drown out the larger patterns into which we are woven, and protect ourselves from life's larger catastrophes. We mix the hope for a benign master plan with fear of our meaninglessness in the vastness of circumstance, and in general just get on with it.

While Heero was being pulled quietly out of his own universe and into one so nearly the same in every way, the one reason for his seeking new possibilities was preparing to leave the continuum permanently.

She had been saving these pills, surreptitiously collecting them by spitting them out every time someone looked away. They had been drugging her for months, here in the confines of her own home. The staff, replaced by thugs in servants clothes, the doors and windows guarded and locked every hour of the day. The night that Duo and Quatre had come to her, begging her to shine for them once more, to deliver the people on a platter of peace and prosperity, that night she had decided it was time to end it. It just was so difficult to do when your captors wanted you alive.

So, she had saved these little packets of oblivion, one by one, until she estimated she now had enough to send her off into space forever. It took the whole day to reach a lull, when the night guards switched over into watching the grounds more than watching her, when the cold-eyed maids left her alone by the fireplace with a glass of milk and a selection of titillating stories to help her mind drift. It was then, nearing eleven o'clock at night that she slowly, methodically gathered each pill from its hiding place -- in her clothes, in the chair, from the table, even from inside the cover of the book she pretended to read. Once she counted all of them, she made a show of becoming interested in a passage of the book, raising it slightly to obstruct the view from the camera on the mantelpiece. Without stopping to give this plan one final bit of scrutiny she easily and mundanely accepted her death, sipping from the milk to ease the pills down her throat.

As the world became pleasantly dull, a ratcheting sound, so brutally familiar filtered in. Not able to connect herself to reality any longer, Relena immediately returned to the sound of the gun that murdered her child and the only man she had ever trusted and loved. She wondered if this was the outer edge of Hell, where she would be forced to relive every horrific moment of her life over and over until some eternity had passed. She didn't know if she even believed in an afterlife, but if perhaps Heero might be there, then she would savor whatever horror might come if only to see him die again and again.

The sounds of violent death were so distant now, it seemed she would slip past hell right into restful oblivion after all. The world was silent, just the vague crackling of the fire and a log falling into the ashes.

She closed her eyes and waited patiently for the end.

Then she heard it. His voice. Rough, astonished, full of pain. She heard her name and thinking once again that there might be a world of solace after death after all, she used all her might to open the heavy lids of her eyes. Her vision caused chaos as colors too saturated and blacks too deep pierced her to the back of her skull. But she kept the eyes open, holding fiercely to that pain to give her focus because there, in front of her, was Heero's face. The beloved rise of his cheekbone, the curving darkness of his lips, his lines, his colors, his flesh. There, with emotions more exposed than she had ever seen was the terrifying gaze of an enraged Heero Yuy. She spoke, telling him not to be angry, but could tell that the words were garbled.

She tried to lift her arm, to reach out and touch that beautiful jaw line, but her movements were so slow. She couldn't understand why her body wouldn't respond.

He came closer, leaning over her and shockingly wrenched her mouth wide to stick two fingers down her throat.

The response was immediate, and he leaned her over so the vomit would land on the floor. The grotesque reds and violets of the rug scrambled together with the bile and white of her retched pills. She remembered then that this was her one chance for escape and that someone … someone was taking that away. In feeble anger she began hitting, swatting her arms with as much force as her listless body could muster. But it was his voice again, in her ear, growling in anger.

"Stop it."

And fingers again forced there way into her mouth, and again her stomach peeled itself out onto the floor. How could they trick her this way. How could they use such a dirty trick, trying to subdue her with a mimicry of what she ached for. She found more strength in her outrage and sat up to try hitting her attacker, to destroy that fake vision of his face. She made contact, slicing her nails along his neck and trying for more, but hands like iron cuffs clamped over her wrists, pinning her to the chair. She began to kick and then vomited some more, without any inducement, save the swimming chaos and pain in her head.

"You bastards. How dare you!"

Her speech was clearer now, but whatever energy she'd found in anger suddenly drained as the futility of her life once again overwhelmed her. She would never be allowed to die. No matter how she tried, she'd be stopped and used again and again, a living ghost with the power to deliver a docile population, just by keeping her alive. The real Heero would despise her for what she'd become. The real Heero would have killed her, not stuck fingers down her throat. This was just another scheme to break her mind, to make her a willing puppet, rather than an apathetic prisoner.

Even now, this creature of plastic surgery had the insolence to embrace her and stroke her hair. It whispered in her ear, "I didn't go through all this just to find you dead."