TITLE: Brothers in Arms

AUTHOR: Shira

SERIES: Gundam Wing

CATEGORIES: Dark.Depressing; Deathfic; Songfics

SUBCATEGORY: Anime

RATING: PG

PAIRINGS: None, really

WARNINGS: Dark, depressing, deathfic

EMAIL: shira_uma@hotmail.com

I heard them right, didn't I? Peace? The war finally over? Yeah, I know I did. I heard it. So I smile faintly at the sound of the words, that music to my ears. "Peace", I say to myself in a barely audible whisper. It even sounds restful to me. My eyelids flutter and close contentedly, shrouding me in hazy reality... the reality that we had finally succeeded, the five of us. Succeeded in paving the way for the peace that would now be shared by all. Father would be proud. As angry and insistent as he was on that fateful day, the last time I saw him, as disappointed as he was in me that I chose to put myself into this battle for universal peace, I know that today he'd be proud of me. Because I succeeded. We don't have to fight anymore. No one does. That was always what he believed in.. that there should be no fighting.

I'm not really sure what happened there at the end. I feel like I'm floating, weightless. I feel completely loose and free. This feeling is euphoric - like nothing can touch me in this happiness. I'm flying so high, higher than the highest mountaintop, higher than the eagles soar. "Am I OK?" I question myself, looking around, but I must be, because I feel so at peace. My smile spreads as I'm overtaken with a feeling of comfort and accomplishment, that I did my part, that I stood by my own word and fought for what "I" believed in. The risk was great, but I don't like war, don't believe in it, so I joined and fought in it to end it... so that so many others wouldn't have to fight. We brought about this heavenly peacefulness that everyone is so deserving of together. I was a part of it. I close my eyes slowly and whisper it again to myself, totally oblivious to anything around me now... "Peace". The word has such a nice ring as it slides off my lips. Nothing can hurt me anymore where I am now. Yes, father would be proud. I'm sure of it.

/These mist covered mountains/

/Are a home for me now/

/But my home is the lowlands/

/And always will be/

The war; finally over. A year of opposition between sides... men, women and children alike fighting side by side. Finally ceased. I sigh with relief thinking of the people who's lives will be spared by the ending of this confrontation. Floating, softly gliding... I'm so full of calm right now. I want to rest and never leave this place. The earth - a miracle of nature, its blues and greens alive with vibrant life... maybe I'll stay on the earth. Stay here, living as one of the people who we fought so valiantly for. Not taking sides, I fought - we fought - for everyone. So that there was a future to look forward to for all the future generations of mothers and fathers and children and sixteen-year-old boys like me. I'm beaming with unspoken pride.

Most importantly though, this hard won peace will bring the earth and the colonies back together. And families. I blink and smile inwardly as I think about this, and of the soldiers returning to their homes and their loved ones and their kids and parents, back to life as it should be. Taking part in this glorious feeling of peace. We fought divided, many of us, but eventually lay down our weapons united, a unity brought on by a single unselfish act that held us all in its embrace. A unity brought on by all our wishes and needs for rest and quiet. For our future generation of children to never know war... to never have to pick up a weapon and fight the way we have here today. I'm elated as I rocket to new heights, laying down my weapons beside all of theirs... permanently.

/Some day you'll return to/

/Your valleys and your farms/

/And you'll no longer burn/

/To be brothers in arms/

But in all the blissful quiet my mind wanders still to thoughts of the inevitable sadness of war. How many people hurt, how many dead? Why? Why does war have to hurt the way it does in order to obtain the goodness of peace? Two total extremes, yet one dependent on the other to exist. Father said I was too good for this war - too precious to give it the chance to claim me for its own. But isn't every person just as priceless? I'm no different than anyone else, so I fought to end it. A crystalline tear forms in the corner of my eye and I don't wipe it away. My tear, symbolic of all the tears shed during the past year, builds, then tumbles over eyelid's edge, speeding its way down my cheek headed for certain doom as it clings precariously to my chin before falling. One tear. One million tears. Does it really matter how many? The fact that a tear was shed at all is sadness enough as we use our weapons against each other. Hurting, killing, overtaking... and this in the name of peace? I silently chuckle to myself. That just seems so... so... Ironic.

Yet even with as much desolation as we caused ourselves, we too have suffered deeply. Physically, straining our bodies to the limit that our adolescent forms could handle and even beyond. Battered, bruised, cut up and beat up, we continued because we believed. Then we doubted ourselves and suffered again. Suffered for the lives we took, for the damage we caused. And in spite of our great win, we'll continue to suffer the aftershocks... war lingers on in the minds of its children... But for how long, I wonder. How long will we walk shrouded in the shadows of death? How long will we suffer the injustice of these atrocities to man? How long will we feel the loss of our identities and our names as a result of war? How long will we bear the pain of our innocence and childhood's being lost to war? I wonder how long we'll suffer the pain of killing in order to stop the killing?

/Through these fields of destruction/

/Baptism of fire/

/I've watched all your suffering/

/As the battles raged higher/

I close my eyes to sleep, hoping for pleasant dreams. In my dreams, I remember. Choking back more tears as the memory of it all floods my mind. It's etched there permanently. Suddenly I'm no longer in this place of safety, but back in the thick of the fight, my hands, deadly weapons, stained by the blood of the lives I cut short before me. Explosions rock the ground on either side of me and I return fire, adding to the deadly confusion. Clods of earth and shrapnel ricochet through my memories as the battle creates a brand new scenery around me. I feel the fear of war, but its a sad fear... not a fear for myself, but a fear that the strife will continue until there is nothing left to fight over. I feel myself trembling as the memories still invade my sleepy thoughts and I once more see the orange glow of war's angry fire. I hear the voices of the unfortunate souls who become the sacrifice... at my own hand.

I look around me now from my place of quiet and see the remnants of death and destruction that passed before me, laying the way for this final result. I pain for all the losses, my own included, but I resign myself to the fact that there can be no glory without sacrifice. I know we did the right thing - as many times as we questioned our own actions. We did it to keep others from having to do it... and we ended it. So I'll try my best to allow my feeling of accomplishment prevail over the presence of guilt within me... the guilt of having added to the destruction, and with my own hands none-the-less. I stand strong for the benefit of the rest of us, the ones who stuck with me through this, even in my own times of weakness and misguidedness. They helped me, cared for me, forgave me, and all while battling their own personal demons of this war. With me, side by side, every step of the way. But its finally time for us all to experience for ourselves what it is that we fought for. I look to them and smile a smile of heartfelt thanks. They said that I was the instrumental one in holding the group together, but somehow I think we all held it together in our own ways. We have become bonded together by fate, the five of us, like brothers... brothers at arms. Its time for us to rest now.

/And though they did hurt me so bad/

/In the fear and alarm/

/You did not desert me/

/My brothers in arms/

I wonder what will happen now, to the five of us. I have a loving home to return to, and I suppose some very important duties have been left for me, but I think about the others and the gentle smile leaves my face. I've been the lucky one this whole time - the rest of them? Children of this war, and with what to go back to? Each one of us came into this harsh reality in a different place and in a different way, but only I got to see the world from rose-colored lenses. Protected, I guess you might say. Maybe that's one of the reasons why I originally felt so strongly about being a part of the effort to end it. Maybe deep down inside I felt I owed it to all those fighting who have dealt with nothing but strife and poverty and circumstance their whole lives, while I was pampered and nurtured, my hands never allowed to get dirty. I look at my hands now... they're dirty, alright. Dirty with the scurge of war. I welcome the significance of this today - the significance that the invisible stains on my hands now make me the same as the rest of them. No longer am I the sheltered rich boy who will hear of the war only from afar - now I am the war. We are the war... and we are finished, all of us, to return to our places of belonging, wherever those may be. Looking at my fellow warriors today a pang of guilt hits me as I think of what will happen to them now.

Life goes on, yes, but does it really? Or will we, the five of us, be forever trapped in this moment in time - the moment that we went from being heroes to being nobodies. It suits me fine, because I have things to fall back on, but I wonder what this will do to the others... the ones who gained an appreciation for themselves during the war. Gained an understanding of who they really are. Will they take this with them and move on? Or will they run in circles trying to regain this feeling in their lives again, only to no avail. My heart pains for my friends thinking about whether they will continue to seek their own happiness and purpose after this is all over. I wish I could take them with me, but they are staying behind. I just hope I see them again some time after we go our separate ways. I feel bittersweet at the thoughts of us parting, but I try to convince myself that it's only temporary...

/There's so many different worlds/

/So many different suns/

/And we have just one world/

/But we live in different ones/

I feel the curtain of day drawing to a close as my role is complete in this dramatic play of life. Still calm, still content, the darkness settling on me is soothing. I can hear voices of concern around me, but my calm keeps me still and sated. "Why are they so upset?", I ask myself as a haze closes around me. It's beautiful here. I sigh deeply, my eyelids fluttering gently and I look upon my brothers again as we are today, victorious. I have no regrets now. I feel nothing but pleasure as grayness envelopes me. Someone said I was dying... no, can't be. Death couldn't possibly feel this wonderful. Death couldn't possible be this warm and inviting. I don't even remember anything happening to me... only being whisked into this glorious place of serenity. I'm not dying... I'm being reborn. My eyes close and I take in the feel of my surroundings even more, my brothers around me, this comfort within me.

Another faint smile appears on my lips as I experience the surprise of my father's presence. "Father..." I call out to him, and he nods to me in his approval. I knew he'd be accepting of my decision in the long run and he welcomes me to his place of tranquility where we can once again be together. But for some reason there is also a deep sadness to his face that I don't understand. "Father, why are you sad?" I ask. Turning a last time to my brothers I look over them with love and admiration, wishing them well. I still don't understand their unrest as I start to go... can't they see how surreal this place is? I float even higher now and for the first time see my forgotten form as I leave it behind. Blond hair dulled, blue eyes grayed... my spirit is disembodied and I'm free. Free of the war, free of pain and guilt, free of the confines of this injured soldier. The paled blue-gray eyes close one final time and I soar.

/Now the sun's gone to hell/

/And the moon's riding high/

/Let me bid you farewell/

/Every man has to die/

Four young men stand huddled together, their war machines guarding from only steps away as they congregate over the fallen form of one of their own. I try to call out to them, to tell them that I'm fine, but they don't hear. And as life's final breath escapes that form, they react, each one differently, I finally figure it all out. There is confusion and noise as those I've left behind try unsuccessfully to keep me with them, but they don't realize that it is too late. Too late to save me. I see the distraught in them as the feelings of joy and happiness depart and are overtaken by their sadness over me. All that I can do is hope now that they understand too... all of them. There is no justice after war, as their pain will continue forever more. Their memories of me will haunt them and cause them to question themselves and the worlds that they live in, bringing ever-present sadness and guilt. Yes, it's too late to save me... but how will they now save themselves?

And in the event that unrest surfaces again, I will undoubtedly be joined by other children of war just like me, who leave behind loved ones and friends. Maybe even some of my comrades who mourn me at this moment. Does the suffering ever end, really? No. They suffer for all the ones that have lost the battle. Daily reminders of how viscous man can be to his own brother. Kill or be killed... and then mourn afterward. A never-ending circle in the cycle of humanity. It happens again and again, and we never learn our lesson. Fools. Every one of us. But such is the nature of mankind, and eternities have passed, and will continue to pass, with man trying his best to outdo his fellow man, even though he cannot survive without him. It's sad... so sad... my heart breaks for them. I bid a final farewell to my comrades and disappear into nothingness.

/But its written in the starlight/

/And every line on your palm/

/We're fools to make war/

On our brothers in arms/