Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Survival ❯ Old Friends ( Chapter 7 )

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

Old Friends

On a random yet not note, characterization is really important to me. I want the characters to be right on for this fic; if they're off, then I'll give the development reasons, some time has passed and hey, the mid to late teenager years are major development stages. I think I changed a lot between fifteen and eighteen, and I was one of the most balanced fifteen-year-olds I've ever heard of. I've seen so many people change their personalities entirely in the space of a year… but yeah.

Hope you enjoy, and reviews are always nice.

April 21st 197 - Friday - Amsterdam

“Eight ball, corner pocket,” the demon muttered, indicating which one… and sunk it.

“Asshole,” Mik returned in a sort of sullen, good-natured way. He dug into his pocket for some bills.

Chaos waved a hand at him. “Don't worry about it.” Mik's brow furrowed, but the other man shook his head. “You couldn't afford that last bet and you know it.” When his friend still looked unsure, he added, “Come on, I already won enough off you tonight.”

Any other protest he might have made was cut short as Luc stepped into the bar, and, seeing as they were in Devils' territory, he was cheerily greeted by most everyone there, Duo included. His grin was genuine too; if Luc's hair was a little longer, his eyes a little darker… he'd look just like Solo.

The gang leader smiled back and returned hellos, calling to the bartender that he'd like his usual, and heading over to the pool table. “Okay, I just got off work, what's your excuse?” He started racking up the balls for a new game.

The ex-gundam pilot rolled his eyes. “I'm not due in `till eleven.” He ran his gang like Solo had too… which was to say he ran it like a crew, not a gang; he supposed it had only gotten listed off as that because they had so many teenaged members. His goal was to keep everyone alive, healthy, and as happy as he could manage. The family sort of atmosphere really was there, and not just in a kinda sorta kind of way; Luc, Mik, Shov, Laura… they'd cover for him, and not just in a fight or heist. Dan, Hans, Robby, `Liss, Nic, the rest… Nothing would hurt them if he could help it. He taught them everything he knew of how to get by in the world, them and the rest… and left the others to show them more when he thought his experience might lead them in a bad way.

Some of his skills… They didn't need to live on to a new generation. Zechs was a nutjob, no doubt about it, but he was holding everything together well enough, not technically oppressing anyone, and so long as the prince kept his thirst for wholesale slaughter in check, Chaos had no problem with keeping his head down and living out his life away from all the action.

It was sorta sad though… he was thinking of himself as `Duo' less and less now. He was changing, moving further away from the promises he'd made as a child…

I'm sorry, Solo… But I'm going to do it right this time. Picking up the chalk, he decided, “I've got just enough time to beat you once before I go.”

“Mm, sounds good, sounds good,” Luc mused, organizing the balls in the triangle. He glanced over to Mik. “How much'd he score off you?”

Mik snorted. “Too much.”

Luc laughed. “The trick is that you expect to lose with him, that way if he screws up a shot, you're in for a pleasant surprise.” He looked back to the man he was beginning to really think of as a little brother. “What time are you off again?”

“Ten.”

“I have no idea how you do that,” Luc decided, shaking his head. “That has to be the most hellish shift I've ever heard of. I mean…” He blinked at him, realizing something.

“I won one game,” Mik announced triumphantly as he noticed their leader's shift in attention.

Chaos shrugged, tugging at the ponytail, whose end didn't quite hit the bottom of his shoulder blades. “It needed cutting anyhow.”

Luc smirked, noting the way Chaos was pointedly not meeting his eyes. He hadn't actually noticed the difference in hair length until just then. “That's not what I meant.”

The brunette started to snicker in response. “She insisted. How am I supposed to turn down a pregnant lady? Besides, she said she's done it to you a couple times, so you have no excuse to talk!”

“What?” Mik looked confused.

Luc's grin widened. “It looks good…”

He started laughing harder. “Just shut up…”

“What am I missing?” Mik demanded, looking back and forth between them.

“Well, you have to agree…” Luc started to snigger himself. “He looks good in eyeliner, no?”

“Oh my God,” Mik muttered, eyes huge as he finally realized registered what had seemed off… He burst out laughing. “Oh my God…”

“Shut up…”

“Hey, at least she didn't hit you with the sparkly shit,” Luc consoled, still sniggering,

Chaos just shut his eyes. “She has sparkly stuff? God help me…”

“Yeah, well it's sorta alluring on her…”

The other snorted. “Well yeah, she's a chick.”

Mik slapped his thigh. “Oh man, you guys are nuts…”

“No, his girlfriend is nuts. She's the one attacking people with the stuff.”

“Why haven't you washed it off yet?”

Duo smirked. “Well, like you said, it does look kinda good…”

The other two just doubled over.

***

April 22nd 197 - Saturday - Brussels

“Why, Miss Relena…”

Relena's insides jumped at the voice, but she didn't let her surprise show; shock or surprise wouldn't get her anywhere with this adversary. Instead, in a calm voice, she announced, “If would like to chat, Dorothy, I would appreciate it if you'd shut the door.”

“Of course,” the other woman returned genially, stepping in and locking the door behind her. “Though I must say, I cannot help but be surprised that I found you here, of all places…”

“I would appreciate it if you didn't play coy with me, Lieutenant Colonel Catalonia,” the princess decided, pushing away from the console she'd been working at and turning to look at her face to face. “Are you intending to tell my brother you found me searching the records?”

The blonde tilted her head and pursed her lips, considering; the look reminded Relena rather strongly of a cat eying a mouse, but she held her ground, raising her brows. She was calm, composed, unworried… and perhaps a touch impatient, a little annoyed that she had been interrupted. That was what she wanted Dorothy to see.

“Would it really make a difference if I did?” she asked finally, her voice curious.

Relena paused a moment as though to consider it herself, then shrugged. “Probably not, no. It would mean I would have to waste a rather large amount of time and effort, however.”

Dorothy chuckled softly, looking down. “He's underestimating you, Miss Relena.” Her tone was a kind of intrigued whisper. “They all are. But not me.” She shook her head. “I know you better than that. You're so strong…” She pursed her lips again, looking around Relena to the console. “What were you trying to find out anyway?”

“Why should I trust you?” Relena returned just as coolly.

Dorothy shrugged. “Mr. Milliardo… sometimes, I realize he's…” She offered a sad smile and tapped her temple with one finger. Sighing, she added, “I swore my loyalty, however. But…” She shrugged. “He intends you to rule after him, does he not?”

Relena hesitated over what was verging on a pledge of fealty. Dorothy came from an old family, and, like Milliardo, if she made such a vow she would mean it with all her being. But Dorothy was also a wild card, to put it lightly; she was no one's puppet.

But Relena didn't need a puppet… she needed an ally. And as Milliardo's second in command, Dorothy was a rather powerful ally. Her support, or lack of it, could very likely determine the success or demise of her plans. “You will follow me?” she asked in a soft but still commanding tone. Dorothy was not one to be swayed by gentle words; she had learned that back when the blonde had attended her school in Sanc. If only she had realized it soon enough, perhaps the other girl would never have gone to Milliardo, would never have worked the Zero system herself… `What ifs' got her nowhere, however. She focused solely on the woman in front of her, steeling her voice. “You will do as I as I ask?”

“I swear, on my honor as a Catalonia, to serve and protect you, Miss Relena,” she returned formally, offering what would have passed for a curtsy, had she been wearing a skirt; it still looked elegant in pants. Looking up, she added, “However you wish.”

Relena stared at her for a moment, taking in the glitter of almost feverish excitement in the woman's eyes… and accepted. She was taking on a wild wolf, one likely to carry a form of rabies… but the other girl's obsessive personality didn't have to focus on war; the last ten months had proven that. If she was given a focus, she worked steadily, strongly… And they were both only just sixteen; it was a general rule of nature that the more psychotic side of her fervor would fade with time.

As for now… Well, fanatics generally were the most loyal of followers. And loyalty was the thing she needed the most, just then.

***

Jerusalem

“I haven't seen your friend in a while.”

Heero shrugged a little, continuing to knead his thigh. He was sitting on the couch of the doctor's house, where he'd been staying for the past few weeks, ever since the doctor had decided that he had been in the clinic longer than was usual, and that it would be a better idea. Mrs. Srona had started telling all her friends that they'd entered into an exchange student program before that, and how no, it wasn't an open program they could get into, he'd been with another family but then he'd been in a nasty car accident and the man's son had died, so he'd needed a family to transfer so they could deal with their grief… Yukio was such a quiet boy, and he needed crutches for a while, but he wanted to finish the length of his stay… Oh, no, his English wasn't very good… and he was so shy, such a hard worker, most of the time he just kept his nose in his books, sitting by the window upstairs… I think he was close to that other boy, but he doesn't want to talk about it. Let's just let him cope in his own way, you know how the Japanese are…

It was a fairly convincing story, really.

But… Dr. Srona was right, he was worried about Quatre too; he'd disappeared before Heero'd moved into the house. “He might have realized we had a better chance of keeping ourselves hidden if we split up,” he muttered after a moment. He didn't believe it, though; it wasn't in Quatre's nature to ever leave a man behind, doomed or not.

“He seemed a little too concerned about you for that,” the doctor returned softly.

“He… can be a little unpredictable.” But generally only when he was verging on a breakdown…. Or had gotten one of his truly genius ideas. Maybe he had just realized that without his presence, Heero might be able to fade into obscurity for a while…

But he didn't believe it.

But then, what else could have happened?

“We… we would have heard something if…?”

Heero bit his lip, letting the doctor know he was thinking about it. He didn't know that either, though… Zechs' determination to execute them all had come fairly out of the blue, once the battle had been lost; it was entirely possible that he might change his mind once he actually had one of them in hand… especially if what Heero suspected was true. The man moved politically as though he was still hooked up the Zero half the time, and that was worrisome… efficient in a sort of erratic matter…

They were just lucky that the Zero system hadn't been designed for uses outside of battle, or else he suspected they would all be in a more pleasant sort of stranglehold by now, instead of the not quite insane ambition and sometimes resourcefulness he'd shown thus far. An additional downside was that it would likely protect him from all assassination and coup attempts.

But it could just be that Zechs' mind was warped from its past use and Heero was making too much of the situation. He'd been raised to rule, after all; he could just have a point of view on governing that Heero couldn't conceptualize very well.

He missed Zero…

“I'm not sure,” he decided at last. “But if he'd been caught and tortured, they would already have found me.”

Which meant he was dead, had managed to lock himself back inside the less sane part of his mind before telling them everything, or that Zechs had decided torture was too crude a tool for his finer sensibilities.

“…There've been some murders lately too,” Moira Srona muttered softly, coming in from the kitchen. Her face was concerned, but hard; she was a gentle woman, but understood the world they lived in. And she understood that it might be better for the young man staying in her home if his friend had been murdered before the government could find him.

Unfortunately, he doubted that Quatre could have let his guard down far enough for a common killer to have access to him… but even if that was the case… that still left him as dead, so all the possibilities were covered.

So he had run, was dead, or he was insane or a bare step away from it. The story of Winner's life…

The Srona family's brand of sarcasm was catching.

“I only know what you know,” Heero told them simply. “I hope he ran on without me, but… all I can say is…” He shrugged. “He's gone. The same as I'll be as soon as I'm sure I can run fast enough that they won't catch me and lead them back here to you.” He knew his tone generally didn't allow for the emotions he meant, so he added, “I appreciate your hospitality, Doctor… but I'll appreciate your safety more.”

The couple nodded seriously, Moira going back into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on supper and Samuel moving off the couch to squat beside him and test his leg's range of movement. Again, it was a fact that they didn't like, but fully understood, and were smart enough to not argue about. Now if only Relena had ever taken that excuse at face value…

…He missed Relena's misplaced passion. It had been the only thing that kept him going, most days… and however stupid that may have been and however weak it made him feel to want it, he missed that moral support. …He had liked thinking that he was doing the right thing, following his heart, like Odin had told him to, instead of orders, like Heero always did…

He'd change his name if he wasn't worried about developing separate personalities because of it… although, truthfully, that might be a good thing. Healthy, even, considering his current predicament. But unfortunately, that kind of pleasant dementia also had a tendency towards amnesia, and he couldn't afford to forget his training while he was on the run.

And he was going to live long enough at least to make sure Relena succeeded Zechs; he'd decided that once he started truly going downhill. After that… Well, he'd figure that out when he got there. That was generally his mode of action anyhow. He didn't have enough information for a contingency plan, and he rarely ever used those in any case.

“Sam, Yukio, dinner's ready,” Mrs. Srona called happily.

“Think you can make it to the table on your own, or do you want help?” asked Sam curiously.

“I'll walk,” Heero returned evenly, standing up without his crutches and tentatively putting weight on his bad leg, trying to gauge how much it could handle. He could have run to the damn table, but he'd do more damage in the process, and dinner wasn't that imperative. He couldn't help but smirk, when he realized that it was stronger than it had been in a while… and he could probably walk with barely a limp. A lot of the reason it had gotten so bad as it had was because he had no idea of how to engage the muscles and begin his own rehabilitation; that, at least, was solved now, and he knew better than to assume now. Smirking more, he took a few steps and looked back to Samuel.

To say the doctor was impressed was an understatement. “You're healing at an amazing rate,” he noted, moving up to stand beside him. “I didn't think you'd do that for another few weeks.”

Heero shrugged a little; he hadn't expected any less of himself. Still, he couldn't help that little part of him that felt warm when Moira saw him and started absolutely beaming…

He was going to miss them, when he left.

***

Brussels

“So does he know where they are?”

“I'm afraid a lady such as myself is not privy to that information, Miss Relena,” Dorothy returned, her moody glare at her tea the only indication of her irritation. “Mr. Milliardo knows that my heart might be somewhat… split… on the subject.” She shifted her shoulders and smiled flirtatiously at a man walking past the deli they sat outside; they were the only patrons who had chosen to lunch on the patio, chill as it was. He smiled back, but kept walking.

Relena raised a brow at Dorothy, wondering at the woman's taste, but opted for spreading a slice of brie on another cracker. “That's unfortunate, but I suppose it can't be helped.”

“They have what's left of the first and fourth pieces,” the other woman noted thoughtfully. “I saw that with my own eyes; no sign of the owners, though. But,” she tapped her cup with one finger, “that was over a year ago. We're fairly sure another made it to Greenland, but it was never confirmed and that's hardly relevant now.”

Relena nodded. Greenland… whichever one of the boys it was, he could have as easily have drowned or been stranded there as have escaped…

“In other news, there's always rumors about them,” she continued. “I've seen a report or two suggesting the underground may be working on a gundam, but nothing solid enough to pursue. Really though, the machines are something of a legend… and a fail-proof scare tactic, of course. Likely it's just information being let slip to keep the Regime on its toes.”

“How big of a threat are they?” Relena asked curiously, leaning forward; this would be far from forbidden talk. She was supposed to be considering all her options for the future of the Regime, after all.

“It's hard to say,” Dorothy admitted. “Lady Une's execution instigated quite a strong response… you'd think she hadn't been comatose just days previously. It had to be

done, of course, but it really helped raise their numbers.”

Yes, Colonel Une's execution… Milliardo had arranged it shortly after he had blitzkrieged the Earth-Sphere Alliance, still fumbling for recovery plans after the virtual shelling of the planet by manmade meteorite. Leaving her alone would have incited a rebellion with her leadership, imprisoning her would have been too high of a liability when they still didn't know where each man's loyalty lay, and so he had simply removed her… and made her a martyr to the cause. Relena wasn't sure exactly what she thought of the situation anymore; a part of her was glad the woman was gone, but… well, she had been highly influential, and her loss was one less card to be stacked against her brother. And when she wasn't in a varying state of psychosis, she had genuinely been a good person. …Sometimes, anyway.

“The more pressing threat, however, are not those who oppose us; it is those who are taking advantage of Mr. Milliardo's… lack of reach.”

Relena swallowed. “How many of the stories are true?”

“Because they have no organization, it would be even harder to evaluate them than the rebels. Summer didn't come last year and we're not entirely sure this one will be worthy of the name either; too much strain on the atmosphere, I'm afraid, and it leads to hungry people, which leads to more poverty and desolation… Gangs and syndicates have nearly overrun all the major cities in Europe, mobs are no longer uncommon… and of course, there's the worst of the rumors, some of which have been confirmed.”

The planet was going ballistic… it was all very well for the people of the colonies, who already synthesized most of their food from artificial light and labs, but all the wreckage raining down on Earth had seriously screwed up the weather. It was too cold… people were just trying to ignore it. That, or they were taking opposite extremes to heart and creating new societies of their own, some of which were all very well, but some…

They didn't have the manpower to try to manage the masses, which were getting more and more out of control. The planet was slowly melting into a state of anarchy, and if they didn't manage to pull it all back together soon, not only was true peace an absolute impossibility, but even something resembling civilization. Milliardo was trying to manage and contain it, but his successes seemed to be minor.

“It's an old, complicated recipe.”

Relena blinked at her. “I beg your pardon?”

Dorothy shrugged. “The final result is simply divine, but then you get the recipe and the instructions are in ancient Egyptian, and even if you manage to translate bits of it you have no idea where to find the ingredients.”

…There was more than a touch of truth in that analogy. “I guess it is…”

“I was never a terribly good cook; I suspect your brother's like most men, though, and could manage to burn water.”

Relena smiled a little at that, moving to take a sip of her tea. “I think I have to agree.”

The other woman smiled back… then sighed as her phone began to ring and pulled it out of her pocket. “Catalonia speaking.” Her brows drew together as she listened. “Oh? Of course… No, no we're not far, just wait…” She motioned at Relena to get her things together. “Thank-you for informing me so quickly, I'm with Peacecraft, where is the transport headed? No, the younger, and she could use the exposure… Yes, I'm sure.” She tossed Relena an annoyed sort of look. “We'll be back there in twenty.” Flipping the phone shut, she snatched up her scarf and wound it around her neck, starting to rebutton her coat.

“What's going on?”

“A Class A felon turned up and is being moved to the Amsterdam compound for interrogation,” she explained briskly, snatching up her keys and moving back towards the car. “A healthy level of paranoia means they won't give any details except in person, so we're going, now.”

Class A meant it could only be a few people… “Do you think it's one of them?”

“It might be.” She hit the unlock button. “Get in, Miss Relena; your brother's busy with matters in the colonies today, and I would very much like a chance at whoever they found before he makes up his mind about what he wants to do.”

“You think he might do something drastic?”

“I think he doesn't know his own mind nine days out of ten, and I want an in before he decides his morals,” she returned shortly, starting the engine. “It's not a crime, my Lady, it's tact.”

Tact with teeth… But I wouldn't expect anything else from Dorothy.

***

Amsterdam

“I'm breaking into the prison compound,” Chaos announced loudly as he came into the main of the den from his room, looking everyone over. “Am I going alone or will somebody cover me?”

“Why?” Luc demanded, standing.

“They caught an old friend who'd do the same for me,” he snapped back. “I'd like some help, but I've pulled off this kind of shit by myself before, I'm going. I remember how prisoners were treated in the last war, and I somehow doubt it's changed much.”

Luc was staring him down, trying to come to a decision, but Sin noticed others already moving for their weapons. “Ski mask it,” she cautioned.

“Exactly, we don't want anyone getting the idea it was Devils,” Chaos agreed, yanking off his beanie and twisting up his ponytail so it wouldn't show. “We're making it look like rebel work.” He motioned at Sin and she pulled her barrette out of her hair for him to use.

“And if anyone gets caught?” Luc was obviously nervous, but relenting.

“Then I pull the same stunt for them only just me and we lay a false trail heading out of town.”

“And if they don't buy it?”

“Believe me, I can make it look like Sally Po herself ordered it.” He was digging through his bag and clipping on weapons. “I've already done some shit here and there that'll make it look like the Sweepers are in town; a group of people moving like us will confirm the rumors.”

“I've been hearing rumors about Sweepers for weeks,” Laura noted.

“Hence why I picked up on it,” Chaos returned easily, looking them over. “Valio, Laura, you're actually coming in with me, here,” he tossed them some gloves. “Everyone else is covering for us coming back out; just need to hold our route open. They tried to be sneaky about this, so they don't have too many people out on it, shouldn't be too hard.”

“I'll come,” Luc decided.

“Laura, give Luc the gloves, he's at my back first. Dress in black, fast; we don't have much time before the higher ups get here, and then security really will be hell.”

***

Forty minutes later

“What happened?!” Dorothy screeched.

“A bunch of fuckin' rebels just swooped in and set fire to the damn place!” He was just as hysterical as she was. “Next thing I know, there's a gunfight, Carmen's dead, and the cell with the fuckin' prisoner I wasn't allowed to even look at is empty! I thought this was under wraps and nobody knew about it yet!”

It really was irritating, they had been so close to something… in more than one way, seeing as the guy also said this had all ended ten minutes ago. But she just wanted to jump for joy over the fact that something had happened… even if she had no idea what, because the only person who had had any access to the prisoner was dead. Whoever it was had been brought in drugged into unconsciousness and tied up in a sack… did they do that with all Class A prisoners, or just ones as dangerous as gundam pilots?

“Fuck!” Dorothy was… really pissed off. “Get back in the car, we're heading to Paris.”

Relena blinked. “Paris?”

“Where they caught the fucker, so we can find out who it was. Shit, I can't believe they just fuckin' lost…”

She kept going from there… and Relena really didn't remember Dorothy having this sort of mouth, but wasn't inclined to listen to it… so she turned up the stereo.

“Oh thank-you!”

“You shouldn't talk like that in front of a lady,” Relena returned glibly, trying to bite back a smirk.

Dorothy gave her a look of sheer dismay… and cracked up.

***

“What are you doing?”

“Going back to work,” Chaos returned tiredly. “I was on lunch then called back that Sin was going into labor so I could get the time.”

“It's too early for her to be doing that.”

“False alarm, happens sometimes.”

“And exactly where was I in this scenario?”

“Having a total meltdown, absolutely hopeless, couldn't even put a sentence together right.”

Sin giggled. “You'd better not do that.”

Luc smiled and leaned over to kiss her. “Kay or Shov will knock some sense into me if I do, I'm sure.” He turned back to his friend. “We'll be up by the time you get home, so you can crash in our room if those drugs haven't worn off your friend yet. You're really going to need some real sleep after all this, the reunion can wait.”

“Yeah, no kidding… Just… start explaining right off the bat. Waking up in a weird place after being captured isn't fun. Later.”

“Later.”