Fandom: Gundam Wing
Title: The Agent 09/10 +Epilogue
Pairings: 1+2, hints of 13x6x2
Warnings: AU, angst, post-apocalyptic, violence, allusion to incest and
death of another somewhat major character
Genre: Drama, Romance, Angst
Rating: R (for language and graphic descriptions)
Disclaimers: Main characters are properties of Bandai and Studio
Sunrise. I make no money off them.
Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, only a few survivors are taken
into a mysterious organization where they are rebuilt and trained to become the
ultimate soldiers. What happens when a mission is considered a failure and
Agent 002 finds himself about to be terminated? The answers could lie in the
young doctor who created him.
09:
He sat as still as death on the wooden chair, staring at his untouched meal of
fried fish and boiled peas. Fading sunlight drifted through the narrow windows
in the kitchen, casting long shadows of orange and black on the furniture and
appliances. The low whirr of the refrigerator and the cooling system filled the
silence, with only the faint sound of the grandfather clock ticking in the
living room as company.
(I’ve been here before.)
Somehow he knew what was coming. Even as the hour hand struck at twelve and the
undeniable sound of the car pulling up the driveway was heard, Heero Yuy knew
what news awaited him.
(The same dream. All over again.)
The door to the green military vehicle was opened and then shut firmly. There
were the crunching sounds of boots walking up the gravel driveway, the small
flight of stairs and finally the jarring sound of the doorbell which jerked him
from his deep reverie. He rose slowly to his feet to open the door, already
knowing who waited for him. It would be Lt. Draco –
(No…not him…Duo. It will be Duo again.)
-sent to deliver the heart-wrenching news of Odin’s death. But as Heero opened
the door, it wasn’t the tall, white-haired man standing there, neither was it
Duo. A strangled cry escaped his lips as the Informant staggered towards him,
that gaping hole in his abdomen now filled with maggots that wiggled and made a
home within the bloody mass of intestines, muscles and bones.
“Get out of here,” Howard grunted. Something thick and pus-like escaped his
mouth and fell to the ground with a solid plop. Heero staggered away slowly,
shaking his head, trying to get the scream of terror that threatened to consume
him, past frozen lips.
“Not safe!” Howard said with a gurgle. “Get out…get out…get out…!”
“But where would he go?” came the quiet question, as firm hands fell upon
Heero’s shoulders from behind. “He needs me now. Don’t you, doc?”
The sneer in that tone, the underlying tone of derision and amusement had Heero
spinning around quickly. It was Duo all right, but not the one he had come to
know in the Organization. This was the Duo in the hooded cape, the one who
ruled over countless minions on Earth and beyond. This was the cold, ruthless
terrorist responsible for destroying several colonies.
(Or was he?)
“Whaddaya say, doc?” The grip on his shoulders tightened and Heero wondered if
Duo would crush the bones there without thinking twice about it. He seemed
capable of doing so. “Come on, doc. Why don’t you join us, hmm? You don’t
belong here…”
“Get the hell away from me,” came the low growl, as he finally tore himself
away from Duo’s grasp. “Take another step and I’ll blow your goddamn head off.”
“Hehe, and how?” Duo sneered. “With your scalpel perhaps, doc? You gonna gut me
open and leave me to die? After all, it’s your fault that things turned out
this way. When it gets right down to it. It’s all your fault. You got me
killed, doc.”
“No…”
“Oh, sure you did. The day you found me, you should have left me alone. Now,
you know who I am, don’t you? But it’s a bit too late, because I’m six feet
under and doing the tango.”
“No!” Heero screamed, squeezing his eyes shut and slapping hands over his ears
to block the loud derisive laughter. Howard had joined in too, and as Heero
opened his eyes slowly, the living room was now filled with faces of people he
had met. Just faces. No bodies to speak of. All laughing at him. Trowa, Quatre,
Queen Relena, the doctors J and G, Zechs, Patini and worst of all, Treize,
whose laughter was the loudest and seemed to drown out Duo’s with each passing
second.
“You’re not dead…not dead…” Heero muttered, shifting backwards as the faces
seemed to loom over him.
“I wouldn’t advise you to go Outside, doc,” Duo said solemnly, as Heero took a
step outside. “I feel an explosion coming.”
“Wha…?” He spun around quickly, eyes widening at the avalanche of fire that
rushed towards him from the horizon. He tried to run back inside the house –
the warm safety of the home he had grown up in – but it was too late. He wasn’t
going to make it on time. His scream of pain and terror was lost in the unholy
baptism of fire. He felt and watched his flesh peel away like the skin of an
orange, and then nothing but merciful darkness.
He stared dispassionately at the silver-colored clarinet and flute on the low coffee
table, the sweet notes of Ebony Concerto by Igor Stravinsky filling the air
from unseen speakers. His fingers itched to pick up the instrument, but he
doubted he’d be able to perform as well as he would like. He could almost laugh
at the irony of it all. He had lots of time to practice and yet the urge had
escaped him. Just the very thought of playing in a time of war, sickened him.
He could still remember the first time he had been given his first flute. After
watching his father perform night after night with that magical instrument, his
curiosity had been piqued and Trowa had known there and then that he wanted to
be just like his father. To perform and entertain others with his talent as a
musician.
He lifted his hand slowly, staring at the lean fingers that were slightly
callused from years of holding an instrument other than a woodwind. If he
squinted hard enough, he was sure he would still see his hands bloody from all
the lives he had taken so far. How could anyone expect him to play sweet music
when he was tainted from the inside out. When he had betrayed his own family to
save his hide? What kind of a person was he really? Human? Machine? Was he any
better than the units with their drone-like motions and mindless obedience?
“What?” he asked to no one in particular, as he threw his head back on the
couch and closed his eyes. “What the hell am I?”
The quiet sound of the doors opening, had him cracking an eye open. He watched
his partner walk into the room, already peeling out of his uniform with each
step he took. There were deep lines of concentration on that pale visage and
undeniable bags of fatigue had made a home beneath the sea-green eyes. For a
moment, their gazes met and held – a world of unspoken questions and doubt
racing between them – before Quatre turned away with a soft sigh. He flung his
hat towards the coat hook and strolled to the mini-bar, looking for something
strong to drown his wandering thoughts.
“Well?” Trowa finally asked, since it seemed like his companion had no plans to
speak anytime soon.
Quatre shrugged and nursed his mixture of tonic and gin, gaze distant as he
stared out the window and into New City’s night sky.
“It’s been three days and he’s still hanging on…barely.”
Trowa nodded. “How’s his leg?”
“He’ll limp for the rest of his life. All thanks to me.” He laughed bitterly
and held up the glass. “A toast to another job well done. You’ve really outdone
yourself this time, Lieutenant Quatre Reberba Winner.”
His voice caught as he finished, and the tears he had struggled so hard to hold
back after all these days, suddenly came out in a rush. He slammed his fist on
the counter, burying his face against the cool wood surface as his body
trembled with the force of his emotions. Heart wrenching sobs filled the silence,
causing Trowa to clench his hands tightly and turn away. He doubted Quatre
would want to be comforted now. Besides, they were in this together. They had
buried themselves in this hell and it was going to take some effort to get out
of it.
Restless, he reached for the clarinet and rose to his feet, pacing the living
room before standing before the window. He caressed the cylindrical instrument,
tenderly, gently, wondering if he could still play anything at all. Once upon a
time, he had dreamed of becoming a performer…
“Do you still think of your colony?” he suddenly asked, gaze still trained on
the tiny dots of light from other buildings.
“Everyday,” Quatre replied with a soft sniffle. Trowa could hear more chinks of
ice as they were thrown into the glass. He had no doubt his partner planned to
drink himself into a stupor tonight.
“With Baudouin dead, L3’s leaderless,” he observed quietly.
“What about Pierre? He’s the acting chancellor now.”
“Hn. What good is he? I hear the people are getting restless.”
Quatre stared at the strong back that faced him, the faint scars from previous
battles still evident on Trowa’s flesh. He stirred his concoction. “The
Opposition…I think Heero might know who they are.”
Trowa turned around quickly, his gaze narrowed and wary. “What makes you say
that?”
Unable to look at the other man, Quatre continued quietly. “He kept mumbling in
his sleep. Something about the Informant and Agent 002…being members of the
Opposition. I tried to amplify the audio, but he would say no more. Besides…”
He fell silent. He hadn’t wanted the others to hear this bit of information. If
any of the superior officers got a wind of such intelligence, Heero would not
live to see another day.
Trowa stared at the shock of blond hair, his mind racing with a million and one
different thoughts and scenarios. “Where was unit 002 found?”
“L2,” Quatre replied, now watching as Trowa walked briskly towards his
workspace to pull up the holographic screen. Fingertips blazed quickly across
the flat console panel and from his vantage point, it seemed as if a million
numbers flashed across in rapid succession. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to pull up any information on Agent 002,” came the absent-minded
reply.
Quatre frowned. “Those are classified-”
“Not to us.” He flashed a quick smile and typed a few numbers in, only to curse
beneath his breath as the red letters ‘ACCESS DENIED’ flashed across the
screen.
“Told you,” Quatre mumbled. He sat beside Trowa and tapped his fingers
restlessly. He was beginning to feel incredibly drowsy.
“We’re military personnel,” Trowa replied with a low growl. “Who would mess
with such information and why?”
“Maybe because Agent 002 really is special,” came the soft reply. He laid his
head upon Trowa’s shoulder, lashes growing heavier. “We should get Heero…rescue
him…”
Trowa looked at his companion sharply, wondering if Quatre really meant that.
He wasn’t surprised to find his heartbeat quickening at the thought of doing
something so dangerous. How in the world would they get Heero out of here and
even if they managed to pull it off, where would they take him? Back to L1? It
would involve the use of a shuttle, and that would mean pilfering one from The
Organization. That, in itself, was going to prove to be difficult since all
unauthorized flights were documented and if—
“Let’s find Duo first,” Quatre mumbled and promptly fell face first on Trowa’s
lap, a light snore soon signaling that he was dead to the world.
“Find Duo…” Trowa sank his fingers into the silky tresses, brushing them
absently as his gaze grew distant and thoughtful. “Find Duo, hmm? Might be the
drink talking, Quatre, but I like your way of thinking.”
They gathered around the small television set, listening with grim faces to the
man that filled the screen.
“…that I sit before you today, with great and heavy sorrow in my heart. As
you must have heard by now, our esteemed Queen Relena is indisposed due to the
shocking death of Major General Henry Applegate – a fine leader of our Earth’s
Forces. Please, I ask you, my dear people of Earth and the Colonies, to put
aside our differences and to take a moment, to remember those who lost their
lives in the most brutal attack by terrorists witnessed yet, who continue to
hide in the shadows…”
“That son-of-a-bitch!” Sally growled, taking a step forward as if to punch the
screen, but a firm hand on her wrist held her back. She looked into Paul’s
stern but kind features and sagged her shoulders in defeat. “It’s not fair,”
she said quietly, looking at Treize again. “Why should he get away with shit
like this?”
“Because shits like him have the power and not us,” Antonio drawled, taking a
drag from his cigarette. “We’ll be lucky if we can even get through to that
fucking Organization building. We ain’t even got a decent plan and our
leader...”
He stopped and turned around quickly, a brief but sheepish look on his features
as he wondered if Duo had heard him, but as it turned out, the elusive man was
nowhere in sight.
“Huh? Where did he go? He was here a minute ago.”
“I’ll look for him,” Sally said quickly, already making her way out of the tent
with an idea of where their leader might be.
She walked past similar tents, smiling warmly at the kids that ran in and out
of them, or the families that sat outside, cooking on camp stoves and chatting
with seemingly no care in the world. Younger men and women stood on patrol
around the camp site, saluting smartly as their superior officer walked past.
It was now three days since Duo had woken from his sleep, and in that time, the
young man had familiarized himself with his faithful followers. She and Paul
had been surprised at how quickly he was able to learn most of their names or
make friends with his devout followers. She had found herself almost in tears
every time traces of his former self would seep through the smiling and
cheerful demeanor. It wasn’t as if the old Duo hadn’t been just as charismatic,
but the fiery passion, that heat that seemed to follow him wherever he went,
was no longer apparent. Whatever they had done to him in there, Sally would
never forgive them. They had stolen a key part of Duo Maxwell, and she doubted
it would ever return again. She wondered if he still thought of Hilde. They had
shown him a picture of the tomboyish female and Duo’s reaction had been as
expected. A shocked and surprised gasp, followed by a strangled cry as he
realized that Unit 010 – the girl with the teleportation abilities – had
actually been his girlfriend at some point in time. It was enough to drive any
sane man mad with fury.
She came to a stop at the outskirts of their territory, an area filled with
jutting cliffs and boulders. Duo stood at the very edge of one such cliff, his
lonely silhouette seeming to fit with the landscape. Sally felt her heart stir
at the sight and she held a hand to her pounding chest, realizing that this
feeling was something more than just admiration. She knew she was older, and he
had always seen her as nothing more than a comrade and sister, but still…she
was powerless to stop the way she felt for him. This unquestionable love for
him. She would willingly die for Duo if given the opportunity.
“So that’s where you are,” she finally said, walking towards him. “We were
wondering…”
“I licked his boots.”
She stopped at the cold statement, feeling a chill of concern race down her
spine. Her breath caught as she stared at him, seeing it…seeing him –
that old Duo – standing before her again. Her eyes burned with the threat of
tears.
He laughed, a loud bitter sound that echoed around the barren land before him.
“I can’t believe it! I actually let that asshole treat me like shit, when all
this time I was fighting against him! Hahaha! If I had known…oh man, if I had
known! Fate can be so fucking cruel, eh? I bet God was up there, laughing his
ass off at me and saying ‘Nyaah! Told you so, you fucking kid! Told you, you’d
end up being fucked by the same guy you’ve been trying to kill for so long!’
Hahaha! So fucking ironic! Right, Sally? Right?!”
“Duo…” She listened to the painful laughter, now knowing that it was mixed with
tears he didn’t want her to see. She was unaware of the ones that cascaded down
her cheeks, and before she could stop herself, she ran up to him, wrapping her
arms tightly around his trembling body. Holding him. Holding him for as long as
she could.
However, he continued his maniacal laugh, making no effort to recognize the
woman that held him. The tears of humiliation, hurt, anger and helplessness ran
down his cheeks like hot rain. How did they expect him to lead them when he had
sold himself to their sworn enemy? How could he look at them in the face and
not tell them of the countless nights spent in Treize’s bed, being treated like
a plaything, made to do the most embarrassing things, all to save himself and
Heero. How could he?
“You promised,” Sally whispered hotly against his wet cheeks. “You promised us
you’d free us from his tyranny…”
“I can’t,” he choked, trying to break away from her grasp. “I can’t do it! I
can’t fucking do it! I can’t…urgh!”
The slap ricocheted like a gunshot in the silence, and Duo could only stare
through shimmering depths at the tearful but flushed woman before him.
“Sa…Sally…?”
“Stop being so selfish!” she cried, fighting back a harsh sob. “Look at them!”
She spun him around, forcing him to stare at the campsite below them. They
looked like toy tents and cars, with tiny people moving in and out of them.
“For a year, we’ve searched and waited for you,” Sally continued, “You said you
were going back to L2 to see if you could get the leaders to cooperate with us.
I wanted to go with you…Paul wanted to…but you said you’d go alone. You saved
us all! Risked your life for us, goddamn it! You have no idea how crushed
Howard…all of us…were when we heard the news that L2 had been bombed. We felt
we couldn’t go on. We lost all hope, until Howard took the reigns. Without
him…we wouldn’t be here today! Without him, his dedication, knowing he was
doing the most dangerous job of all, we wouldn’t be here! He slapped us all
awake, Duo. He made us see that you would have wanted us to go on, to continue
the fight no matter what we faced! That’s the Duo I know! The Duo I know would
never give in like this! The Duo I know would have marched into that building
today and demanded Treize’s head! The Duo I know and love would never be this
weak!”
She fell to her knees and gave in to her tears again, realizing she had finally
blurted out her hidden feelings for him. Ah, how foolish she was. At least, she
felt she could come to terms with her emotions and move on now. She stiffened
as she felt his fingers on her hair, her tears falling faster at the gentle
touch of his flesh against hers.
“Thank you, Sally,” he said quietly, forcing the woman to lift her gaze to meet
his. He smiled warmly at her, knowing for both their sakes, he’d have to
pretend he hadn’t heard her confession. He knew that his heart belonged to
someone else now. Although he wasn’t quite sure just how much of his heart he
had actually given away.
She nodded in understanding and wiped her cheeks quickly, allowing herself to
be helped to her feet. Together they stood in silence and watched the hustle
and bustle of the camp below them. Duo clenched his hands into tight fists, and
took a deep breath, knowing that the time was right to make their move towards
Treize’s lair. Besides, he had kept a certain someone waiting for too long and
that in itself was inexcusable.
“Where’s Paul?” he asked, as he began the climb down the steep slope. “We need
to start making plans tonight. I want to pay Treize a little visit.”
Sally watched the retreating figure, a small smile of relief and gratitude
dancing across her features, and with lighter steps, she followed him quickly,
replying with as much gusto as she could muster. “In the tent. We eagerly await
your orders, sir.”
Zechs sat as still as death on the chair, listening to the faint sounds of
Treize’s speech being replayed on the large screen TV. He had been forced to
listen to that man for years and he was getting a bit sick of it. Treize had
kept him prisoner in their quarters for the past three days, refusing to let
him out for any reason. His days and nights had been spent pacing around
restlessly, wondering what he could do to end the mental and emotional torture
he was going through. With a light snort, he rose to his feet and adjusted his
mask…and decided it would be best to take it off. Placing it gently upon the
desk, he made his way towards the bedroom that held the corpse-like figure of
his sister.
He placed gloved hands on the doorknob and felt the familiar sensation of
anxiety, anger and sorrow fill his being. He swallowed tightly and struggled to
control himself, prepared for yet another day of sitting beside her bed,
watching her in that endless state of coma. He wondered if he would be
condemned to this role for the rest of his life, as eternal punishment for a
drunken escapade that had brought shame to him and his family. A night of too
much alcohol, an argument with a father who insisted on treating him like a
child, too angry and drunk to care as he stumbled into a young, beautiful
looking woman in a bathing suit. Ignoring her desperate cries to let her go, he
had tossed her on his bed, and done the unthinkable, over and over again.
Claiming something he shouldn’t have, only to wake up the next morning to a
sight that would be burned forever in his mind, no matter how much he tried to
block it. She had refused to talk to him, huddled in a corner, eyes wide as
saucers, body trembling, with blood on the sheets. Their parents had walked in,
taken one look at the situation and all hell had broken lose. He had almost
gone mad, running away from home, with no one to turn to. He joined the
military with no hope for redemption, until the charismatic leader named Treize
Khushrenada had taken him in.
“I will protect you, my precious Zechs. You belong to me now.”
“Treize,” he growled, his grip tightening at the thought of what the older man
had done to them. How he had used them both to his advantage. “You fucking
son-of-a-bitch. I’ll make you pay for this someday.”
He opened the door, and almost collapsed in shock at what met his gaze. Relena
was sitting up in the large four-poster bed, her skin still pallid and sickly,
but she was now clearly wide awake. How long she had been that way, Zechs had
no idea. The rush of relief that filled him, made him weak in the knees. She
finally seemed to notice she had a visitor as she turned her head slowly to
look at him. For a moment, her blue eyes remained blank and glazed, but as he
took a slow step forward, it seemed to clear a little. Two pale spots of color
came to her cheeks and her lips parted, words failing her as she tried to call
out his name. She settled for holding out her hands, which he willingly reached
for, falling to his knees beside the bed and raining kisses on the cold flesh.
“Relena,” he groaned, sobbing quietly. “Oh, God, Relena. I’m so sorry. So, so
sorry…”
“How touching,” came the low drawl from the doorway. “If I wasn’t already
sickened at the history behind you two, I’d be bawling my eyes out by now.”
“Treize!” Zechs cried out in fury, rising to his feet and drawing out his
sword. His body trembled with the intensity of his hatred, eyes narrowed and
cold as they met the tall figure moving towards him. “You bastard!”
The older man laughed heartily. “Hahaha! A duel, hmm? I wondered when you’d get
around to that, my dear Zechs. I always did love to see the fiery side of you.”
He tossed aside the velvet purple cape he wore and looking resplendent in white
and blue military garb, he unsheathed his sword and licked its blade slowly.
“Mmm, the taste of defeat never felt so good,” he crooned, motioning for the
other with a gloved hand. “Come now, Zechs. Come to me and show me what you’ve
got. Let’s finish this once and for all.”
“You’re absolutely, positively sure about this,” Quatre muttered for the
one-millionth time as the elevator took them down to the Interrogation Room.
“Aren’t you?” Trowa asked with a small smirk, knowing that the flushed look of
excitement on his companion’s face was a dead-giveaway.
“We might not make it out of here alive,” Quatre replied with a shrug, stepping
out first as the doors opened to the right level. In a swift motion, he pointed
his gun at the direction of the four cameras and shot them quickly, watching as
they fizzled and crackled in retaliation.
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take!” Trowa said quickly, as the alarms went
off in a level above them. “Now!” He aimed and fired at the surprised guards in
front of Heero’s room, waiting for Quatre to activate the doors.
“Done!” came the response he wanted to hear and as the door slid open, Trowa
took a step in, only to find himself grabbed in a chokehold and the rough
stubble of a beard against his cheek.
“What do you want?” Heero breathed thickly into his ear. He was holding
something sharp against Trowa’s neck, and the soldier was quick to see that
Heero was holding a scalpel to his jugular. Did the doctor always carry that
around? Trowa had thought that all prisoners were checked for these things.
“We’re getting you out of here,” Trowa explained quickly. They jumped at the
close sound of gunshots, causing Trowa to curse beneath his breath. “Damn it!
Quatre can’t handle them by himself! You’ve got to help us out, Heero. You do
want to get out of here, right?”
He stared into the almost crazed blue eyes, the look of confusion and yet
wariness that filled them for a moment, before Heero nodded slowly. “Yes…”
“Great. I trust you know how to use one of these.” He reached for one of the
guard’s semi-automatics and tossed it towards the doctor who barely caught it.
Things were happening a bit too fast for him. His mind was spinning…and his leg
still hurt like hell.
“Change into this,” Trowa ordered, tossing the military uniform towards him.
“Hurry for crying out loud!”
“I’m trying, goddamn it,” Heero grunted, as he began to peel out of his pants
and shirt in the hallway. The building seemed to be alive with noise and chaos,
alarms going off and the pounding feet of soldiers and units all being
stationed at various points. “There’s no way we’re getting out of here alive,”
he grunted as he slipped his arms into the jacket. He never thought he’d
actually get to wear one of these outfits. They felt uncomfortable.
“You look like shit if I do say so myself,” Trowa said with a small smile as he
took in the shaggy brown hair and beard growth from the past week. “I doubt 002
will be able to recognize you if we find him.”
Heero who had been ready to wear the boots, lifted his head quickly, blue eyes
filled with hope and yet caution. “Treize said he was dead,” he began slowly,
refusing to give in to the rapid beating of his heart. To see Duo again…
“Treize is full of bullshit,” Trowa replied with a shrug, watching as Quatre
ran towards them. “We might not get out of this mess…but we’ll make sure you
do. It’s the least we can do.”
“I don’t want your pity,” Heero stated flatly, although his cheeks flushed at
the sincere statement. He met Quatre’s gaze and gave a firm nod at the unspoken
agreement between them. Getting to his feet, he tested the weight of his left
leg, and winced. “I might slow you guys a bit.”
“That’s for us to decide,” Trowa said with a small smile. “Come on. There’s an
exit this way.”
They began to run down the, thankfully, still silent corridor, only to cling to
each other as they were painfully thrown against the wall with the thunderous
sound of the first explosion.
Zechs cried out as the ground seemed to shake beneath his feet. It was the
perfect opportunity Treize had been looking for as he snarled and thrust
quickly, sending his subordinate’s weapon flying across the room. Without
pausing to savor his victory, he buried the blade into Zechs’s shoulder,
smiling grimly as he watched the blond fall to his knees with a howl of pain.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to let your guard down?” Treize asked
quietly, seeming to ignore the sound of alarms going off around them or the
quaking of the building. “Haven’t I taught you anything in all these years,
Zechs Merquise…no…Milliardo Peacecraft?!”
He kicked and struck the younger man in the jaw, watching in satisfaction as
Zechs fell flat on his face, groaning in agony. He pulled out the blade with a
soft grunt, watching the thick globs of blood upon the steel surface with a
grin.
“Your…world…is…crumbling…around…you…” Zechs whispered thickly as he tried to
rise to his feet. He laughed, coughing as the blood got in the way. He barely
felt the second kick to his ribs, crouching and holding them protectively with
his arms around his waist. If he was to die, at least he would die knowing he
had done his best.
“My units will take care of them,” Treize replied, striking out again with even
more force. He smirked in satisfaction at the sound of more bones breaking, and
to seal the deal, he stepped upon the crushed area, laughing as Zechs’s cries
of agony became louder. “I have faith in them, unlike you! The world is mine
now, in case you haven’t noticed, my dear Zechs. With your sister and her no
good uncle out of the way, no one, you hear me, no one can stand in my way!
Besides, who needs the Organization when I can control both the Earth’s Forces
and the Colony Alliances now!”
Zechs tried to say something, anything, eyes widening as he noticed the figure
moving behind Treize. He tried to scream, to tell her to get back, but before
he could get a word out –
“This is for my uncle,” came the breathless statement as the Queen plunged the
sword through the dictator from behind.
Treize stared, almost comically, at the sharp edge of the sword sticking out
from his chest. He felt it being twisted slowly, and as he opened his mouth to
laugh – perhaps trying to decide if this was all a joke – all that escaped his
lips was a gurgle of blood. He lifted his hands to grasp the sword, slicing his
palms in the process and not seeming to care. He turned around, wide and
surprised eyes trained on the young woman.
“Your…Majesty…” he breathed. “I always knew…you had it in you…ha…”
Relena, weak and barely awake to stand, staggered away and fell to her knees.
The white shirt she wore pooled around her like a gown, her limp strands of
hair falling over her pale countenance. She was trembling, now aware of what
she had done, and when the tears came, they fell silently.
In the chaos, brother and sister watched their tormentor in his final dance of
death, even as the world continued to crumble around them. The beautiful sound
signaling the end of an era.