TITLE: Ground Zero - Aftermath

AUTHORS: Shira & Ruth

SERIES: Gundam Wing CATEGORIES: Dark/Depressing; Angst; Death/Tearjerker; Taboo/Abuse;

SUBCATEGORY: Anime

RATING: NC-17

PAIRINGS: Many

WARNINGS: VERY sad & depressing; inspired by the tragedies in the US on 9/11; death; angst;

EMAIL: shira_uma@hotmail.com

After the Impact

You know, sometimes its really funny how things can look from different perspectives. They can look totally foreign, as if you're seeing them for the first time, brand new. Like today. I saw it a hundred times on the video. Saw the footage over and over again, and it made me feel...sad, angry, vengeful. But to stand here at ground zero and see THIS - it's...it's indescribable. I'm so wracked with emotion that...I have no emotion. All I can do is stand and stare.

I suddenly feel old. Like all my years have caught up with me, and my youth-like personality drains from me, leaving only the responsible adult in me, the one that has to take in all this information and swallow it. I have to accept what's happened here and be a role model for the others, so we can hold together what's left and rebuild. But really, I don't want to. As I crane my head upward and gaze upon the ominous scene before me, I don't want to. What I want is to fall apart. What I want is to not be the one who has to deal with this. Not be the one who has to be so strong for the sake of everyone else. I want to be the one who can cry and scream and curse. But I've always been the one who had the brush-off attitude that could withstand anything, so here I am. None of them ever really knew all the internal turmoil that I've had all these years.

When I heard about the tragedy, I thought it was a joke. Then I thought it had to be an accident - that someone would ram a shuttle directly into Preventers headquarters. A public shuttle filled with innocent people. I tuned in to the news from home - it's my day off - and saw the footage. Then I saw the second one hit, and I knew then that it was no accident. As I watched our building burn, I knew that this was all very deliberate. The emotion that washed over me at that moment was so sudden, I thought I would toss my lunch. The building burned...and then it caved in and crumbled. In a cloud of dust and smoke and haze, the building disappeared from sight as the cloud of debris went up.

So here I stand, personally witnessing the carnage. This fine structure, all sixty-five stories of it, one of the tallest buildings in the region and home to the Preventers peacekeeping group, turned to a pile of rubble. In the blink of an eye, all our hard work for the past ten years completely destroyed with the building. It's scary. To think that a structure so proud, so strong, could come down so quickly. I watched it from home, speechlessly. What could I say? There was nothing to say. Nothing I could say would make any difference. So instead I just watched, with my voice stuck in my throat.

Eighty-five hundred employees in this building. Well...in the organization. Luckily close to half of them are regularly on patrols and other field duties. My ears hear the talk of survivors and casualties, and I just can't make it register in my brain. It's as if my brain just wont let it in because it's so damn disturbing. God I must look so spacey standing here, my mouth hanging open, but I can't make myself do anything else. All my body will do is stand here and try to convince me that I'm not really seeing what I'm seeing.

My thoughts race. Who? How? Why, for God's sake? I know why. We all know why. Because for the past ten years we've been able to stronghold universal peace with an iron fist in a velvet glove. Because we've been able to ensure that right-wing radicals like the Bartons and White Fang have been kept at bay. I think deep inside we always knew that one day something like this would happen, but none of us ever wanted to confront that fact. So instead we kept going on, day after day, month after month, subscribing to the "It won't happen HERE" attitude. It had been kept tight until now. Maybe we got lax. Maybe we dropped the ball. Hell...WHAT maybe? The pile of debris in front of me that used to be a building is the proof that we dropped the ball. And what a price we've paid this time.

I shiver slightly as a chilly wind blows past me and across the campus which is littered with everything from financial reports to burned out cars to...I shudder even thinking about it. There's a stench in the air that's making me want to wretch. Death. Roasting death. It's everywhere. I've smelled it before, but somehow it never smelled so bad. Today it smells...it smells so...evil. Like hell has been reborn here on earth. The hell brought here by an unknown enemy who valued life so little that they felt the need to prove their point by killing. Us, them, innocent bystanders. Death has followed me all my life, and apparently it isn't ready to give up yet. Death is going to be the death of me.

The others, those of us in management that are left, are coming today as well. So that we can start the gruesome but necessary task of helping to identify the dead, the lesser known employees that were not already immediately identified by the people who had been able to escape the destruction. Holy shit. Dead. People that I know. That I worked with for God's sake. People that have been my family for years, when I had no real family. I get to do it because I wasn't here when it happened, and I'm fine. Yeah, right. Fine to the extent that I'm standing on my own two feet. But I can barely breathe and my head is pounding and my heart is getting set to leap out of my throat. Tears well up in my eyes as the thought of the task at hand settles in my head. I still can't make myself move from this spot. I don't want to move from this spot. I'm safe here. Safe from that terrible mess that's waiting for me at ground zero in the heap of rubble. Safe from reality. This is a bad dream. It has to be. Isn't it?

Looking down I notice a paper that's been stuffed in my hand. I don't even remember anyone giving it to me. Hell, I don't remember anyone but me even being here. Funny...how did I miss all those rescue workers digging at the remnants of our world there? How did I miss the people milling around, dazed, apparently having had the good fortune to have gotten out by the skin of their teeth? The paper is a list of names in two columns. Apparently the people who have been relocated to the hospital for emergency treatment in one column, and the people who have been identified already as deceased in the other.

Column one: injured. I skim the list for specific names that I'm searching for. Trowa Barton, my friend and comrade. Critically wounded. Catherine Bloom, like a sister to me. Wounded but stable. Relena Dorlian-Yuy, our white dove of peace. Critically wounded. Sally Po, our leader and one of the world's best peace negotiators. Critically wounded. Heero Yuy, one of my best friends since the beginning. Wounded but stable. The list goes on to name others that I know, that I speak to on a daily basis. Like the lady, Nancy, at the reception desk in the lobby.

Column two: confirmed deceased. Again I skim, looking for names that are important to me. Not that every name on this list isn't important; just that, I'm looking for my family here. There are names missing from the first column that I need to find, but I don't want to find them in column two. And so I continue until I reach the first of the names which I seek, and I sputter as tears spring to my eyes, and I try to hold back my emotion.

Hilde Maxwell. Deceased. Jesus Christ. I have to look again. That can't be right. It just can't. The words don't change the second time around. I think I feel the ground swaying. Or is that me? My scalp is sweaty. Everything seems like it took a giant shift toward me, bringing the destruction and desolation suddenly that much closer. With teardrops falling on the paper making welted drips that are smearing the ink I look further down the column...the column that is longer than the first one. Skimming again, the second blow nearly brings me to my already wobbly knees. Quatre Winner. Deceased. This time I did get sick, as I knelt beside a pile of concrete and regurgitated my lunch, which had been threatening since twenty minutes after I ate it to revisit the outside world. My wife and one of my best friends, the two most caring, wonderful people I know - gone. Gone. I can feel a cold sweat at the back of my neck and under my shirt, and there is a tinny sensation in my ears. I think I just might be getting rea

dy to pass out. Hyperventilating, I stay kneeling to finish reading the list. Zechs Merquise. Deceased. I'm not on my two feet any longer. I'm not fine anymore. Lucrezia Noin-Merquise. Deceased. Dear Lord in Heaven. Lady Une. Deceased.

Weeping, I feel a hand on my shoulder and I look up to find the distraught face of another good friend, Chang Wufei. All I can do is snivel at him and portray with bloodshot eyes the torment that I'm feeling right now. I hand the paper to him and he reads, and together we stand for a few minutes just hugging each other. Heh, yeah. Two grown men crying like babies and hugging each other. But what the hell else do you do in a situation like this? Oh sure...we'll find who did this. We'll hunt them down and blow them to smithereens. Well find where they live and blow up their whole damn colony. Or I will anyway. Which is probably why I wont be the one in charge of the retaliation to this unjust attack. Because they know me too well. Sally knows that I have no problem killing anyone who dares to hurt my family, and that I don't care who gets in my way either. That's not her style, however. Yeah, she'll want to handle it differently, I'm sure. But either way I'll be there to see justice done, if its the last thin

g I do, may I rot in hell otherwise for failing my friends and family.

Until then, I guess I just have to try to understand why this senseless act has occurred and try to accept it, because unfortunately in war, there is no going back. Yes, war. Because whoever did this...whoever needed to prove their opposition by killing and maiming not only the leaders of our group, but also the hoards of innocent office personnel we had working for us well...they have declared war on us. They've declared war on me, Duo Maxwell, and they will find out what a mistake that was. Pulling away from Wufei's embrace, I have to wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my Preventers fleece sweatshirt - the one I use for the fall company softball games. He pats me on the back heartily and together we start to walk. Together we start to make our way toward stark reality. Reality is a bitch.

Part 2 - Making Miracles

I'm not alone. I'm one of many. Carrying pictures of the missing, hoping against hope as the cold rain falls. There have been miracles, but too few on the first day and none since. It's all a matter of collecting the dead. But I said to him that I would try, so here I am, after a double shift at the hospital, with a piece of paper and three pictures on it; two small boys, one small girl. "Who are you looking for?" asked an older woman with a heavy Puerto Rican accident. The picture she carries is of a grinning young man at his wedding. "Assad and Rafi Winner," I said, "and Caitlin Bloom, they were in the daycare." "Madre de Dios have pity," she said and reached up to kiss me. "Good luck." "Thank you, Good luck to you too." She shakes her head and walks away. "My son was going to fill out his application," said a tall coffee-colored man. "Wanted to join and help people he said." "They're saying it was the Martian Independence Movement," said someone else. "I heard it was the last of the White

Fang," says another voice. A young woman weeps quietly. I touch her shoulder. She shows me a picture of a grinning, freckled six year old. "His dad was going to take him on a tour," she sobs. "He left a message on my machine. I was at work." "I'm sorry," I wish I could say more. A grey haired woman with a dark umbrella comes and pulls her away. "Come and have a cup of coffee, dear." She offers to me. I shake my head and she hands me her umbrella. I keep walking, keep circling along the barricade. "Who are you looking for?" a man this time. I must have been asked this question nearly a hundred times by people who are just like me, searching. "Assad and Rafi Winner," I repeat. "Caitlin Bloom, they were at the daycare." "What business is it of yours?" he snapped. I blinked. He had olive skin, thick dark curls and a thick mustache. "What right do you have asking after Master Quatre's nephews?" "Ahmed! What is it?" Suddenly, I'm surrounded by at least a dozen of them, all red-eyed and frowning.

"What right do you have to ask after Master Quatre's nephews?" Another man repeated, scowling over the top of a pair of sunglasses. "I'm a nurse at Saint Vincent's," I snapped back. "Mr. Barton asked me to look for them." "Master Trowa is awake?" one cried. There were shouts all around and suddenly I was off my feet, being whirled through the air. I couldn't help but scream. "Abdul! Put her down!" The voice is deeper and harsher than any of the others. I'm set down on my feet and I look up and up. "Forgive his enthusiasm, Lady, it has been a long time since we heard any news of Master Trowa." Smeared with dust and soot, he is the tallest man I have ever seen, but the look on his face is as old and sad as any other person's here. We have all aged years these last few days. "He was awake early this morning," I said. "He refused to settle, kept asking about the children. He wouldn't co-operate until I promised to come down here." "Allah forgive," the huge man murmurs. "Does he know. . .?" "I was to

ld the first words he said was 'he's dead.'" Great tears fill his eyes. I'm inclined to tear up myself. "Do you know anything?" "Yes," he said wearily. "The children wanted to surprise Master Quatre for his birthday, I arranged for them to be picked up at the daycare and taken shopping. They're safe. Allah forgive, I should have realized Master Trowa wouldn't know where they were." "Listen," my voice is shaking. "Listen, they don't allow children in the ICU, but my shift starts at six, if you come and ask for Christine. . . ."

"Thank you, but I am staying here, until I find him and bring him home." The one he called Abdul grabbed my arm. "Someone will bring the children," he whispered. "They have been asking for their Papa too." I'm crying now. Grandma was right, "sometimes you have to make a miracle." It's a small one, I'm sure those men would have found Trowa Barton without me, but now a family will be re-united a little sooner. I see a man standing with his coat collar turned up, trying to protect a picture from the rain. I give him my umbrella. "Good luck," I said.

Part 3 - Good-Byes

"Please," said Trowa quietly. "Just leave me alone for a few minutes." Jaffa, damn her, was the only one that looked like she was about to protest, but Serena glared at her. The assorted sisters and their assorted escorts left the "family viewing" area and returned to the main room of the Funeral home. "Private service" and they might as well have hired a banquet hall; Preventers here, Maganacs there, sisters, sisters everywhere. Rashid still looked so very weary, but then, he had considered Quatre as one of his sons. There was a small contingent from the circus even though Cathy was still in the hospital. Heero by rights should still /be/ in the hospital but no one could have stopped him. Relena looked incredibly fragile, her nephew and Dorothy's son clinging to her. No one had even realized Dorothy had come into the building until they found her body. She had probably planned one of her "surprises," to whisk the overburdened Foreign Minister away for lunch. Duo, still red-eyed from the funerals of H

ilde and his daughter who'd been in the daycare, was whispering to his two boys. Wufei held Sally's elbow as he helped her to a seat. She was still very pale after her miscarriage. Their twins looked lost. The children he thought of as his own went to the front of the room. Rafi, the oldest at eight and struggling to be responsible, took five year old Assad's hand and pulled out to where they would be sitting. Six-year old Caitlin followed, her little chin high with dignity. She was an glorious blaze of rainbow spangles in the somber room, insisting to the point of tantrum on wearing her "circus dress" because her Uncle Quatre liked it so much. So he had and he would have laughed to see her. He had a fine streak of irreverence in his humor. Trowa watched the three children take their seats before he turned back to the casket and made himself look. It wasn't Quatre. It was some doll they had made to look like Quatre, heavy with makeup to hide the damage death had caused and dressed in the Preventers

dress uniform he hated almost as much as he hated his grey silk suit. Trowa adjusted the tie. This was the tie the boys had been buying for his birthday when the disaster hit - when the passenger shuttles struck the Preventer Headquarters. Trowa straightened the tie bar. It was gold-plate with two hearts etched on it. Trowa had bought it for Valentine's Day. Trowa sighed, and gently turned back the lapel of the jacket. Quatre had a selection of silly buttons he used to sneak on to his suits for serious occasions. Trowa pinned on his favorite, a small purple circle with a bright pink triangle and the slogan "Kiss me, I'm Gay!" He smoothed the cloth back. He nuzzled the pale hair. They'd used the shampoo he'd given them. This was the only part that seemed to be Quatre. One tear dropped into the pale strands. "Well," he whispered. "This is it." // And now that we've reached the end,

I think of all that's passed of how the time that went so fast and of how I've come to depend upon the faith I feel inside your guiding hands// ((I can't do this, Cat,)) he thought. ((I can't do this alone.)) *Now, who was it that once told me his whole life was geared towards survival?* // Say you'll go with me forever, though I know that you can't Well I ain't much with words There's nothin' I could say that you ain't heard But I promise you that each and every day I'll hear your voice In every thought that flows through my mind// *Trowa, it's the boys we've got to think about. I don't care if I have to fight all twenty eight of my damn sisters hand to hand and all their significant whatevers as well! Alea wanted /me/ to take care of her children and that means /you/ too. You're to be as much a part of their lives as I am. Maybe more.* In his memory he could see Quatre's wicked grin. *After all, you're /such/ a domestic type.* ((At least I've learned how to make macaroni and cheese.))

// I'll see your face In every cloud that floats through my sky And when the world is too much and the hurt's got me down on my knees to pray I'll hear your voice and you won't be so far away// He glanced out to the room again. Catherine had wanted a child so badly. Quatre had donated his sperm and Caitlin was the result. Her father's platinum hair, her mother's crystal lavender eyes. Assad's hair was also platinum, but his eyes were brown. Rafi's hair was dark honey and his eyes were blue - but the wrong shade of blue. Trowa looked down at his left hand. Quatre's will had stipulated that the platinum and aquamarine ring he had always worn was to go to Trowa. On the corpse's left hand was a simple white gold band, Trowa wore the match just below the aquamarine. The stone was the exact color of Quatre's eyes. ((Just before New Edwards, neither of us could sleep, so we went down to the beach.)) // Do you remember a moonless night? With only sound for a view, funny what an ocean can do It was the

n that we knew this was right, and that the arms we shared we'd share so many nights// *I can't say I exactly /want/ to die, but I'll try not be afraid of it. After all, if I'm making my life count for something, my death won't be meaningless, will it?* // Say you'll go with me wherever, even though I know it's just a dream Though I know it's unknown, It's something that I gotta do alone But I swear to you I could never do anything without your soul inside// *You're not alone Trowa, it's just like when you heard my voice when you had amnesia. I'm here and I think I always will be.* ((I love you, Quatre.)) *And I love you too, Trowa.* // I'll hear your voice In every thought that flows through my mind I'll see your face In every cloud that floats through my sky And when the world is too much and the hurt's got me down on my knees to pray I'll hear your voice and you won't be so far away// He walked out and sat down with the children. Serena came over. "Trowa, I think you ought to k

now this now," she began awkwardly. Trowa braced himself for whatever the harpies had planned. "We won't contest the will," she said quietly. "We worked it out among ourselves. You'll be the children's guardian and you'll get Quatre's shares. There's been enough pain for this family. We don't want any more." Trowa swallowed hard, his throat closing. "Th-thank you," he finally whispered. *I /told/ you they liked you.* Assad snuggled against him. Rafi leaned against Assad. Caitlin tucked up under his left arm. "Friends," began the Preventer's Chaplin. "We don't come today to morn a life, but to celebrate it. . . ." // Someday I'll hold you, and we will be sailin' and I will never have to say goodbye again Til then, til that day I'll hear your voice, and you won't be so far away.//

(lyric credit "I'll Hear Your Voice", by Scot Leonard)

Part 4 - Coming to Grips

"I want to fight" I told him. "I have to fight."

He just shook his head and said "No."

"I WILL!" My best friend was trying to tell me that I was being asked to step down from my duties. To rest for a while. That I needed to clear my head before I could take part in any more aggressive action for the Preventers; for my own good, and the good of the group. Heero was steadfast in his gaze as he continued to shoot down my demands. We stood in the foyer of the house...the house that I once shared with my soul mate. But she isn't here anymore, and I owe it to her to fight.

"You need time..." He said again, his usual cold glare uncharacteristically soft today. Sally Po had asked him to come by. To tell me that she was removing me from active duty for the time being. I could just picture her telling him... `We don't need any emotional incidents,' knowing that I would have more than just my job in mind. Yeah, she did know me better than I knew myself. She knew full well, as much as I stood here denying to my best friend in the world, that I couldn't handle it this time. That I would make this a personal battle. My own holy war.

Heero was still limping himself. A few scars and visual remnants remained of his injuries in the tragic events that led us to this day, but true to his stubborn self, he barely acknowledged that he was still healing. Hell, the only point that he ever even recognized that he was hurt was when he was dragged out of the building - unconscious. The minute he awoke in the hospital he was complaining about `being fine', and `having survived worse over his years'. But I know he wasn't fine. I know he wasn't, because he quit yelling after the second day, and just lay back and rested. That was a few weeks ago. I think he feels as old as I do right now, and we're both only 27.

Orders had come from higher up that I was to stay out of the action until I could control my emotions and fight fairly. Fairly? Be real. How fair was what happened to the people who had no choice in the matter, and wound up losing their lives? How fair is it that now there are sisters with out brothers, children without mothers and fathers, husbands without wives? How fair is it that there are friends without friends? Why should I care about fairness? Fairness, my ass! We sat together on the front porch, watching life go by, not saying a word, each of us lost in our own thoughts about the same thing.

I had heard that there were arrests. That there were suspects connected with the terrorists, but every time I called to get classified information I was asked `Wont you please do yourself a favor and rest, Duo?" I couldn't get any more information that any regular Joe on the street - and here I was, supposedly one of the top agents for the Preventers, and all I had to go on was the bits of info that I got from the news. Occasionally Heero would leak something to me that he wasn't supposed to tell me, but I had to promise him that I wouldn't do anything stupid, or he'd stop feeding me news.

Trowa, as I'd found out, was experiencing the same blackout as I was. Poor guy. I know how badly I feel right now, my beautiful Hilde and baby girl gone, but Trowa...even in the midst of that huge family, Quatre and Catherine were all he ever had. I spend my entire morning just trying to get up the energy to get my ass out of bed every day, and the rest of my day trying to get back to sleep without nightmares. I can only imagine what pain he must be going through. I called him about a week ago, and he still wasn't ready to be very social. For that matter, I guess I'm not either. Heero is the only one I've seen in weeks, well, other than the boys and the nanny who Sally sent to help me out with them.

We've been sitting here silently for an hour now. That's just kinda what we do. Because neither one of us has anything to say. What can you say? I think the eyes tell all in a case like this. He's still trying to come to term with not only nearly losing Relena, but the whole scope of this thing. Plus, he's back to work already. Trying to help in the intelligence operations to find out who and why. And of course, once they find out who, without a doubt, I guess there'll be action, but they wont tell me. Sighing, I slap my hand down on Heero's knee and we just lock gazes, still silent.

Relena, too, is back to work, in as much of a capacity as she can be. Many days she just works from home right now. Same with Sally, but she's a one-woman dynamo. Nothing can keep her down. Not even Wufei. Realistically though, she's the head of the organization, so nothing can get done without her. She was back in the office as soon as she prescribed herself well enough to be off IVs. Wufei has been going nuts from what I hear, between trying to get her to relax, and having to take care of their twins. But Heero tells me that he tried once to tell his wife that she needed to rest because `Women were slower to heal than men', and Sally nearly knocked his block off. I would have loved to have seen that! Damn...there's a little bit of that old sense of humor that I used to have. Haven't seen it around much lately. Dr. Bob will be happy to hear this.

Yeah, Dr. Bob. The company shrink. He's been real busy lately. Normally he talks to us about the guilt we feel associated with doing things to other people. Now he's talking to us about the pain associated with having things done to us. Gotta give the guy credit though - I always feel a little bit better after I've had a session. Like he really does know what's bothering me. I can't get back into things until he says so, that I've accepted what happened to Hilde and the baby, Quatre and the others, and I'm willing to look at this problem objectively and not emotionally. I guess in the scheme of things he's right, but damn...how I want to just stuff a beam cannon up the asses of the masterminds who did this and pull the trigger. I go to see Bob again on Thursday.

Heero is getting ready to leave now. I guess he's still got to get back to the office for a bit before the end of the day. So we stand and say all those things that you say when you don't know what to say like "We should go get a beer some time," and "When things get settled I'll beat your ass on Gameboy," and all that crap. But we each know that what we're really saying to each other is that try as we might, we haven't been able to stop these events from changing us, well...at least a little bit. How can this not change you? Sally had issued a statement to the people of Earth when it first happened, saying that `We will not allow these terrorist acts to change the way we live our lives,' but the grim reality of it all is that life has changed. Now it was just a question of whether we could put it back the way it was before all this. There was only so far back that we could go here, what with the cast of this play called life now being very different.

I watched Heero go and sat back down on the porch to reflect, same as I've done every time he's gone. I guess they're right, in a way. That I'm where I need to be right now. But I'm getting better. I'll be back in the swing of things soon. I'm slowly getting used to going to bed in a cold set of sheets, and being the only one for the boys. I'm getting accustomed to taking care of the millions of things that I never knew had to be done around here. I'm starting to figure out that I can live on without Hilde, even though it hurts worse than any hell. I don't want this, but I can't do anything about it, so I better accept it, or I'll never get back to work. I'll be in a loony bin instead. Sometimes that seems just fine to me, but today...today I want to get over this, so I can get on with my life, and help it come to be that things like this never have to happen again.

I notice that a little tear has dripped down my cheek and I wipe it away. "Oh Hilde, hon..." I whisper. "Don't you ever think I'll forget you." The kids will be home soon. I have to get dinner ready, and go back to being the strong dad that they think I am. I wonder if I'm fooling them, or if they can see right through me too?

Part 5 - Picking up the Pieces

The clink of china sounds as I place my teacup back in its saucer. It's gone cold already, but I still sip at it. Dipping in the spoon, I nervously stir, the rhythm of plinkaplinkaplink from the metal on the glass soothing me somewhat. For the first time today I have total quiet, complete solitary, and a fleeting moment to just sit back and think. It's been a hell of a past few weeks, and moments like this have become very few and far between, so I've already learned to cherish them. No radio, no magazines or newspapers, no secretaries, no husbands, no children, no countless people banging at my door wanting something or needing something, no email or faxes or reporters or anything. Just me and my thoughts. Sitting back in my brand new desk chair that still smells like a plastic bag, behind my also brand new desk that smells like a can of varnish, I gaze across the office and out the window, noticing that it's a beautiful, sunny day out. It was still dark when I got here this morning, and it will likely be

dark when I leave, unless I get dragged away first.

I sigh. The past few weeks have been incorrigible. Sometimes I wake up and still think it's all been a very bad dream, but then reality hits me as I try to get out of bed and my body reminds me of the beating that it's taken. If that weren't convincing enough, I then drive past the remnants of the original building on my way to this new one, and it all hits home again, the truth of it all. Just in case I might still be in denial by the time I reach the office, there always seems to be at least two or three members of the media here waiting for me every morning when I arrive, and every evening when I leave.

They're all waiting to see if I'll slip up and give them another bit of information to get them better ratings than the other guys. They're all here for the same thing. They aren't here to report news, they're here to cash in on human curiosity and suffering. Sometimes it's quite comical to watch them. Especially when I've decided to actually let out some new information to the public. They crowd me and push each other away oh-so-politely, giving dirty looks to each other that they think I don't see, trying to make it so that each is the only one I am heard by. Then they rush off like their lives depend on it, trying to get this latest `breaking news' on the air or in print before anyone else can. What's particularly upsetting though is the number of times thus far that I've had to publicly correct false information - information that I suspect is being circulated simply for the purpose of generating hype and ratings, and not with the people of Earth in mind. I close my tired, bloodshot eyes and try to stop

thinking now too, but that doesn't work.

This is such a damn mess. I keep thinking back...trying to figure out where we went wrong, where we got lazy, and I keep coming up with the same disheartening answer. We became too trusting. I became too trusting. Is it because I'm a woman? A mother? That I can see the goodness in all people, and think that others would have enough common decency to not do things like that which was done here? Am I losing my authority? I didn't used to be that way. I used to be tough - the `take no prisoners' type. The others tell me no, that it was unavoidable, that we just need to be more careful. But I can tell what's going through Wufei's head without him even muttering a word. Bless his soul, he's opted to keep silent rather than risk making me feel badly, but only because he knows I know what he's thinking. That I need to not be so soft. That I can't let the fact that I can nurture a family so well stop me from being a political tyrant when I need to be to protect the people who are entrusting me with their lives.

All I can think about these day s is how exhausted I am, and how much more exhausted I'm going to be before this is over with. Every morning it's a battle just to be able to leave the house, what with Wufei yelling that I'm not ready to be working so hard. Yes, well, dearest...who else do you propose starts rebuilding this organization? I started this group, I will restart this group. The rest are here too, those thatn are well enough to be working...many of them working day and night in shifts to regain what we had. Naturally I'm going to be needed here. I can't guide them from in bed. I'll have to rest later.

Since the second day it's been controlled chaos. The cleanup is still ongoing, but thankfully we've been able to lay all the casualties to rest. Jesus...that hurts so bad. My employees, my best friends...hell...my family. I couldn't have stopped this from happening myself any more than any of the rest of them could have, but somehow, when I look at the faces of the families who've lost loved ones...it's all my fault. It's all my responsibility. They are dead because they worked for me, and I fucked up. That's what the mourning part of me keeps ringing in my head, trying to make me crazy with grief. Thankfully the sensible side of me is there to respond, arguing that `they were not working for me, they were working for the Earth, and knew the hazards of the job. Sometimes people die when they defend borders and opinions'. Regardless...what's done is done, and it's too late to change it. So I have to keep from getting emotional so that I can keep it from happening again.

I sip my tea again and I don't even notice that it's ice cold now. I don't even notice that it's tea, really. I'm just performing a ritual here now; sitting, thinking and sipping. I check my watch. More insurance people will be here in about fifteen minutes. I haven't eaten a thing all day, and I'm sure I'll catch hell for that later. The phone hasn't stopped ringing once, as it's been every day since the attack. I don't even have time to have a headache, it's so bad here right now, although somehow headaches keep themselves at the top of my list. But slowly, with the help of Relena who is herself still on the mend, we're getting things done and getting the organization back under foot. We've been able to recover most of our records from backups that were stored away from the building, and a lot of the work has simply involved people getting it all transferred to our new computer network.

For a few minutes I just sit, mind blank, looking out the window again. A fluttering flag on the pole in front of the building across the street reminds me that there are a few good things that have happened in this interim too. My thoughts return to the day I left the hospital, and the people...the citizens of the city...who were all waiting for me, flags waving, Preventer's emblems proudly displayed on everything in sight. They gave me flowers, they honked their horns, they cheered and cried and hurrahed. They thanked me for being their protector, even in the light of this tragedy.

Then driving past what was left of the old headquarters I could see where the piles of flowers had been left in memory of the victims. The people had held candlelight vigils on top of the wreckage, little burnt, waxy stumps littered all over the debris. They'd posted posters and flyers proclaiming that the people of Earth would not be defeated by acts of terrorism, and that we would stand together to defeat them instead. They all came together to help where they could and donated - blood, money, supplies for the rescue and recovery effort. On the Inter-Earth news, there were statements from all regional and national leaders portraying their sorrow for the terrible events, and that the rest of the world was behind the Preventers 100% in the persecution of these criminals. A lump forms in my throat just thinking about all that again, and I have to wipe away the beginnings of a tear from the corner of my eye.

My next task will be to meet with all the leaders, including Relena, to discuss how exactly to handle all of this. God I feel so badly for her, having lost her brother, her sister-in-law, and very nearly her husband as well. But we have to do something, I know, or risk it happening again. The question is what? It's going to be a tricky thing, knowing what's appropriate here. There are suspects being arrested in conjunction with the attacks, but so far none of them give us concrete evidence as to what organization did all this. Sure, public enemy number one denies having anything to do with it, even though I could just about bet my life on their association with it all. However, until we find out for sure, our hands are tied, lest we lower ourselves to the ranks of the terrorists and just go haphazardly bombing every group of people that we suspect as being involved. No. We can't allow that. Too many innocent people will die that way. I don't want any more innocent people to die, so we have to be sure.

That's one of the reasons I felt it was necessary to pull Trowa and Duo out of the action for a little while. The rest of the world and the colonies are all going to be watching every move we make from this point on, and the last thing the Preventers needs right now is to have to explain an irrational act caused by grief and the need for personal revenge. Duo...I know what's going on between his ears. Since the beginning, since I first met him, he was always the one who had the `kill or be killed' attitude. He was always fighting for some kind of revenge, so I don't expect him to be any different now, what with the personal losses he's experienced. Trowa on the other hand...he doesn't let anyone know what he's thinking. That's enough reason to me to keep him out for a little while. I know he's hurting pretty badly right now, and unfortunately he's the only one who knows how far he's willing to take things.

My head is hurting now, and I see that my fifteen minutes of breathing time is up. Back to the insanity that has become my job and my life. I put the spoon back down in the saucer beside the china cup. Apparently I've been stirring the cold tea this whole time. Looking in to the cup I watch as the swirls from the spoon slow and dissipate, leaving the brown surface smooth and calm. Smooth and calm. I hope we can make it smooth and calm again, like the tea. Undoubtedly though, things will be very different. My gaze is interrupted by a knock at my office door. It's Sherry, the new secretary from the temp service.

"Ms. Chang?" a sweet voice asks from behind the door. "Your 2:00 appointment is here. Shall I show him in?"

For a few seconds I say nothing. Pulling out a hand mirror from the right desk drawer I look at my hair and fluff it with my fingers a little bit. Who am I joking? As if my hair being in place will make me look any less ragged, than I do now? I have crows feet, dark circles under my eyes and skin the color of ivory soap. Disheartened, I shove the mirror back in the drawer and slide it closed with a loud `thump'. Finally I answer with a halfhearted `Yes, please.', and straighten myself in the smelly chair. For an instant a stray thought that maybe the chemical smell of the chair is responsible for my daily headaches enters my mind, but I dismiss it as my phone rings.

"Yes?" I answer.

"Have you eaten?" It's Wufei.

"I was going to get a..."

"I'm bringing you a nice lunch then. The twins are over with Duo's sitter and I have things I need to get done in the office...so I thought we could have some time together to work. I'll see you in half an hour."

A faint smile creeps over my lips. He's such a worrier, that Wufei. Then again...look at me. I'm just thankful that I have someone who wants to worry about me as much as he does. As I place the phone back down in the receiver my office door opens as my 2:00 appointment is led in.

Part 6 - Hitting Bottom

"Don't be silly," said Quatre. "I don't want anything special." "Well," I said. "You /are/ getting a party. It's all Caitlin can talk about." A roar shook the building. "What on earth ?" "Cathy!" and with that cry he pushed me over the railing and I fell into the open space of the rotunda. He saved my life. The fall broke both my legs and my pelvis and required three of my vertebrae to be fused together. I'll never fly the trapeze or walk the high wire again. I'll be lucky if I can walk with a walker. They all keep telling me I'm lucky. Damn you, Quatre Raberba Winner. You were the lucky one. "Cathy," Noreen said. "You have visitors." I sigh. I knew they were coming. Noreen and Charlotte went to such pains to get me cleaned up and into a nice blouse after the breakfast I didn't really want to eat. I don't see what it matters. They say the blouse is red but it just looks grey to me. "You don't want your baby girl seeing you all messy, do you?" Charlotte scolded as she straightened my hair.

What does it matter? I don't want to see her at all. She comes in holding Trowa's hand. She looks scared. He looks tired. I'm tired. "Mommy?" Caitlin comes over to the bed. "When are you coming home?" "I'm not," I said. "Cathy!" Trowa cries. God, stop it, it's /his/ voice echoing. Can't the bastard leave me alone? He's dead and he's still barging into my life. "Mommy?" her eyes are big and scared. "I can't take care of you," I said firmly. "Uncle Trowa's taking care of you." "I'll take care of you, too, Cathy," Trowa said. He took my hand. I pulled it away. "You can't," I said. "Caitlin," he said softly. "Go out to the waiting room." Her chin trembles a little. "Here, go buy yourself a soda, sit down and don't talk to anyone except the nurses." She gives me a final, scared look and walks away. Good. "Cathy, please," the strength crumbles in his face. "They told me you won't do the physical therapy. Cathy, don't do this. You've got to want to get better." "But I don't," I said. "What?

" "I don't," I said. "I shouldn't have survived. What good did it do? I'm just going to be a burden on you and on Caitlin. I can't do anything. I can't change anything." I shrug. "It's not worth it." "Don't say that," he's on his knees next to the bed, begging. "Caitlin needs you. /I/ need you." I can't answer. Need me? Like this? I don't think so. Quatre was capable of making mistakes. He made this one. /He/ was the one who should have dived into the rotunda. He's the one who should have lived. I turn my head and won't look at him as he cries my name. "I-I have to see to Caitlin,"he said with tears in his voice. "Cathy, please don't do this. Please." I won't answer. He comes back and they say goodbye. Caitlin is crying. I should feel something, but I don't. Trowa can comfort her. He's good at that. The nurses come in and change me. "Baby," scolded Charlotte. "You can use that bedpan, I know you can. If you do what Dr. Green tells you, you can even walk yourself to the bathroom." I don't answe

r her. I just want her to go away. "Your brother and your little girl said you told them you don't want to get better. Now, that is a sin. God was kind enough to spare your life out of all those other people who died and you just want to throw his gift back in his face? That's not right. You /know/ that's not right." "God's not kind," I flung at her. "If God was kind he'd have stopped it. God wasn't even there." "Honey," she sat down on the bed. "God /was/ there. He was giving those men a choice between good and evil right up to the last second. He was the first to cry in pain and the first to reach out to comfort. He was there in the people who came to help. He was there in the people who came down to help the people who were searching in that rubble. He was there in the people who lined up around the block to give blood. He's /still/ there in the people who won't give up until the last pebble is removed and the last missing person accounted for." Her words just popped like little soap bubbles arou

nd me. I feel nothing. Finally she stopped and had to leave. I turned over. They'll serve lunch soon and then I'll be taken to physical therapy. I don't know why they bother. He pushed me over the rail. I fell and hit the bottom. I'll never get up again.

Part 7 - Strength

"Baba?" The tiny voice brought me awake swifter than any alarm. I fumbled for my glasses. Three fifty two am said the bedside clock. I roll over. XiaoJi was there in her yellow pajamas, the fuzzy black teddy bear "Uncle Duo" gave her in her arms. I was stunned to find out Sally was expecting twins and only more stunned to discover they were both girls. Still, they have been a pure light in my life these last six years. It's the last few weeks that all three of them have been driving me out of my mind. "What is it?" "XiaoFei wet her bed again." This is the fifth time since the disaster. I groaned and got up to deal with it. She was standing next to her bed in pink pajamas that were clearly wet, clutching the soft brown teddy bear that was a gift from"Uncle Heero". "Go change," I grumbled as I stripped the bed. "Then get into my bed." It had been galling to have to buy a rubber mattress pad, but at least now the mattress was still dry. I rolled everything up and stuffed it into the hamper and proceeded

to trip over the plushy clown and the elephant. Between their four "uncles" these girls have enough stuffed animals to fill a zoo. I decided to do the laundry in the morning. It could be argued that /now/ was the morning, but /my/ internal clock was telling me it was the middle of the night. Before I headed into my room I checked downstairs. Sally was sleeping on the couch. Holy Kwan Yin(1) (who I seem to be calling on more and more these days instead of Nataku) only knows when she came home. Sighing, I went down and covered her with an afghan. She looked pale. I don't care what had to be put back together at Headquarters, she left the hospital too soon. She's being so strong and so stubborn - just like I was at fifteen. But she's not fifteen, she's thirty-one and she's lost a baby. She doesn't talk about it. I don't think she's even seen Doctor what's his name. She worries me so. Back upstairs, they were both in my room, looking up at me with their pretty dark eyes. They look so much like their mo

ther, but they have my coloring. XiaoJi scooted out of the bed so I could get in. XiaoFei confiscated one of my teeshirts to wear - one with a huge ugly red and gold dragon on it. I am forever getting such teeshirts as a joke. They snuggled up, one on either side. "Is Mama home yet?" asked XiaoFei. "She's downstairs." "I told you!" said XiaoJi. "What?" I frown. XiaoFei cuddled a little closer. "Katy says her Mama doesn't want to come home," she whispered. Katy? Caitlin Bloom. Merciful Kwan Yin, no wonder Trowa looked so haggard and received no help from that homophobic fool of a psychiatrist. Gods, he actually asked Trowa if he was feeling a sexual attraction to Quatre's nephews! Sally just managed to stop Heero and I from killing him. "I didn't know that, little peach." "Katy's real sad," XiaoFei informed me. "Maybe we can go see Katy after school tomorrow, hmm?" Let the children run around with Abdul and his soccer ball while I try to get Trowa to talk. There was a time I wouldn't have con

sidered such a thing. I've softened in ten years. "Tell us a story, Baba?" XiaoJi asked. "What do you want?" I asked back. "The Magic Peach Tree? Fish Bones?" "Li Chi Slays the Serpent!" they chorused. I might have known. "That's too scarey a story for this late at night." "Please, please, please please please please!" Somewhere, I can hear Master Lon saying "Wufei, where is your pride?" I wonder if he had any little girls. "All right! All right! Now, settle down and be quiet." "In Fukien, in the ancient state of Yueh, stands the Yung Mountains, whose peaks sometimes reach a height of many miles. To the northwest there is a cleft in the mountains once inhabited by a giant serpent seventy or eighty feet long and wider than the span of ten hands." "How big is a hand?" "Seven inches," I clear my throat. "It kept the local people in a state of constant terror and had already killed many commandants from the capital city and many magistrates and officials of nearby towns. Offerings of sheep and

oxen did not appease the monster. By entering the dreams of wise men and making its wishes known through oracles and mediums, the serpent demanded young girls of twelve or thirteen to feast on." "Is a medium like a fortune teller?" "Yes. Helpless, the commandants and magistrates. . ." "Katy says there's a fortune teller in the circus that uses cards." "Yeah, she's got a really big snake too. It's all white with red eyes and . . ." "Do you want this story or not? Well, then, helpless, the commandants and magistrates selected the daughters of bondmaids or criminals and kept them until the appointed day. One day in the eighth month of every year, they would deliver a girl to the monster's cave and the serpent would come and swallow the victim up whole!" I always squeezed them at that point and they squealed and giggled. "This continued for nine years until nine girls had been devoured. In the tenth year, the officials began to look for a girl to hold in readiness for the appointed time. A man of C

hianglo county, Li Tan, had raised six daughters and no sons. Chi, his youngest daughter, responded to the search for a victim by volunteering." "Her parents refused to allow it, but she said, "Dear parents, you have no sons to depend on, for having brought forth six daughters and not a single son it is as if you were childless." "Why did she say that?" "Because at the time, the custom was that the sons took care of the parents while the daughters got married and moved in with their husbands," I explained. "And they took care of their husband's parents?" XiaoJi frowned. "That's not fair." "It was what happened. How many times have I explained this?" I take a breath to collect my thoughts. "Li Chi said, "since I'm no use to you alive, why shouldn't I give up my life a little sooner?" But her mother and father loved her too much to consent, so she ran away to the officials." I staved off the next question from XiaoFei, "yes, they were very worried, but because it was the eighth month and no one knew

what the serpent might do, they didn't come to look for her. Where was I? Li Chi asked the authorities for a sharp sword and a snake-hunting dog. When the appointed day arrived, she went to the cave and set before it balls of rice sweetened with malt sugar. No, I'm sure what that is, but whatever it was, the serpent liked the smell and came out of its cave and opened its great mouth to swallow up the rice balls." "Li Chi unleashed the snake hunting dog and it bit the snake. Li Chi drew her sword and made many sharp cuts in its body. The dog stopped the snake from getting back into its hole and out in the open it died from its wounds." "Li Chi went into the cave and brought out the bones of the nine victims so their families could bury them and have peace, then she went home." I sighed, and the girls hugged me tight. "The king of Yueh learned of these events and made Li Chi his queen. He appointed her father magistrate of Chianglo and her mother and her elder sisters were given riches. From that time fo

rth, the district was free of monsters." I laid back, the girls curled against me and I listened to their breathing as they fell asleep. It would take more than a sharp sword, a well trained dog and a clever, brave warrior to slay this serpent. But this so called "hidden network" have struck the wrong people, and they will be hunted down and slain like the monsters they are, one by one. I call upon Kwan Yin for my family, but to my enemies I will again be Nataku.

Part 8 - Hope

Leaving the podium for the umpteenth time since the tragic event, which transpired a few weeks back, I'm whisked away by security personnel before a camera can snap a shutter. In a blur I'm huddled away from the meeting room, through hallways and to my car. When I get there, they shove me inside and off we go again, to the next "secure" place that I'll rest at this time. Hopefully it will be my own home this time. I've been there, on and off...but every time a new bit of information is uncovered, every time there is the slightest bit of danger, they hide me. I know they have to do it, but damn it is this getting old. I'm about ready to just stand out in the middle of Center Square and yell for all to hear, the same way I did so many years ago...that they should just come kill me and get it over with if that's what these cowards are after. Because if we keep doing THIS, well...in a sense they have killed me already. Killed what I had in respect to my life and my family anyway. Not today, though. They can't k

ill me today, because I have company today.

The child clinging with a death grip around my neck brings me back into reality. Poor Jonathan. He never even knew his father, and now to have his mother killed also? Every time I think of it I well up in tears. I wasn't ready to become a mother. I don't think Heero was ready to become a father. Our careers took too much time away for that. But I did agree to be Jonathan's guardian in the event that anything would ever happen to Dorothy. What ever would happen, other than an unexpected accident? I chuckle silently to myself at that thought. Well...here we are then, aren't we? I rock him lightly and he settles, leaning back against me as we drive through the city streets en route to God knows where. "When are we going to YOUR house Aunt Relena?" He asks innocently. I have to lie again and tell him "Soon." Maybe this time it won't be a lie. Things are starting to settle down, I think. At least to the point that I might be able to go home and stay home until the next scare.

The past few weeks have been so draining, I get tired even thinking about it. I'm not even fully recovered from my injuries, but I was removed from the hospital after I was deemed well enough, so that I could be moved from place to place - less of a threat that someone would be able to finish the job on the Foreign Minister, I guess. They've all been very hospitable and seen to my every need, but it's just so exhausting. Add to that the number of memorial services and funerals I've attended. Then number of speeches I've given. The meetings. The secret rendezvous with leaders from all over. Thankfully many of them came to me, so I didn't have to travel quite so much, what with being injured and having a child to care for. I won't let anyone else take Jonathan right now. But it's all been so overwhelming; I just don't know when it's going to end.

My mind flashes to thoughts of my brother for an instant, and I have to push them away. I'm not ready to accept that yet. I need time alone, time to think before I can accept the fact that he's not here any longer. I've had to turn off my emotions completely for the time being so that I can serve my duty. I have to wait until I'm not in the spotlight before I can grieve, or I might be mistaken as being weak or easily unseated. The corner of my mouth twists into a disturbed little half-smile. That sounds just like something Wufei would say. He'd be proud of me then. That I'm managing to hold it all together like this, even though it hurts so badly.

Heero has been so good through all of this. He actually listened to his doctors this time and stayed in the hospital until THEY release him. He's been spending his time in the interim between the new office, catching up with me, and visiting Duo and Trowa, keeping up with them, since neither are permitted to come back to work yet. I am a bit worried about him though, because he's been different throughout all of this. It's almost as if this attack has rattled him because they were successful in their plan - that he was not able to intercept this or protect me from it. As silly as it sounds, I think Heero's bruised ego was the worst injury that he sustained.

My emergency cell phone rings. "Hello love..." I answer. He's the only one that has this private number.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Jonathan?" I smile. He's already taken in Jonathan as his own. He makes me feel so proud about that.

"We're both fine. We're in the car. Everything went well."

"Good." He pauses. "I'll be here when you get back." The line goes dead.

Just like my Heero. Short and to the point. Never say more than you have to, since you never know who might be listening. I collapse the antennae on the phone and stuff it back in my purse. Well...at least it sounds like we're going home for once. I could use a hot bath and something to eat. That is, after we get Jonathan fed and down for a nap. Motherhood has been enlightening, that's for sure. Maybe this is a sign that I need to think a little less about work and a little more about family?

A few fleeting thoughts run through my head as we turn off the highway and head toward home. Later I'll have to contact Sally and see how she's coming with the investigation, and discuss the aid package that she will be formally requesting. Money for the investigation, for the cleanup, and for the families of the victims. Then tomorrow there's another meeting, bright and early, with the head of the Inter-Colony Shuttle Association and the Aviation Committee on what to do about all the new rules and regulations that are going to be instated at all the airports and shuttle ports across Earth and the Colonies to prevent future hijackings. After that, more talks with Sally and some of the department heads, and a televised speech to assure the public that we are taking every measure to find the terrorists, and will be reinforcing military forces. Yes, I'd given up long ago on my dream of total pacifism, but I was getting hopeful there for a little while.

"Aunt Relena...I'm hungry!" A cherub voice breaks my concentration again as the car is turning down the long driveway to our estate.

"Well...what would you like to eat young man? Look where we are!" I perk up my voice to try to hide any heavy thoughts that might still be lingering. Jonoathan's face lights up as we approach the front door of our comfortable but not too lavish home.

"Uncle HEEEEEEERO!" Jonathan wails, seeing Heero standing outside the front door waiting for us.

The car stops, and Jonathan is bounding off my lap and out to Heero before I know it. Young innocence. I'm grateful right now that he's only four. That he can't really understand the scope of what's happened. He knows that his mother was terribly hurt by some bad people, and that she went to Heaven to live with God. He knows she isn't coming back, even though he asks daily. I expected that. I suppose as he gets older and can understand we'll tell him more, but for now, I think that's enough. I don't want to make him fear everything and everyone around every corner. I need to make sure he stays confident and happy, just like everyone else I'm responsible for. Pulling myself out of the back seat of the car I'm greeted by the greatest security I could ever know - the waiting arms of my husband.

Part 9 - The Next Waltz

/"Here is a flower for you," said the little girl. The brown puppy jumped around her, barking. She laughed as it tugged the leash, pulling her away to run off into the distance./ I sat up, yanking myself from the rest of the old, old nightmare. /I don't want to see it again. I don't want to kill her again/. I gasped for breath. Relena, next to me, turned over and reached out her hand without even waking to take mine. I pressed it to my lips a moment, then placed it down next to her as I stood up. The cold sweat was still running down my back. /Why is this happening now?/ I wondered. I looked at my wife. She is still as beautiful today as she was when I woke up on the beach after crashing Wing into the sea. Her golden hair has threads of silver in it now, a gift of the stress we've been under since the attack on Preventer Headquarters. I wrapped my robe around me and went to check on the rest of my family. I ponder that thought again - in one single event we went from being a "party of two" to an entire

/family/. Jonathan had kicked his covers off again. He lay curled in a ball with his behind sticking up in the air. I turned him so he was lying on his side and tucked the covers around him. He squirmed and whimpered, looking for something. Beside the bed was the teddy bear I gave to Relena on her sixteenth birthday. I put it in his arms and he quieted down, finding his thumb. He looked as if he could /be/ Relena's son, with his golden hair and sweet face. I wished he was. Some part of me and her that would live on if the worse happened. I never thought I would like children, but somehow, Jonathan brought out something in me that I never suspected I had. I left his room and went into the next one. Alexander was frowning in his sleep. He lay rigid under the covers. When he was little, Relena used to say he looked so much like his mother, and that he had Lucrezia's smile. Now, he's almost eleven and his face is more and more the face of his father; the face of Zechs Merquise, the warrior who became my

enemy. I know now Zechs was as driven by revenge against the Earth Alliance as I was. He had seen his family die, and the Cinq Kingdom destroyed by the Alliance. Now Relena has had to witness the same, leaving her and Alexander the sole survivors of the Peacecraft dynasty. I think I understand what brought back the old nightmare tonight. Alexander was the same age I was when I destroyed the mobile suit base. I think we made a mistake in sending him back to school so soon after the funerals, but Relena and I wanted his life to return to what we hoped would be "normal." The school sent him back to us because he'd been fighting with the other students. He seems so angry. He sounded like Duo with his childish rant about the need for revenge. Gently, I tried to smooth the frown from his forehead. "Papa," he murmured in his sleep. He drifted off again without waiting for a reply. Right now that was a blessing to me, because I''m not ready to face that yet with him. To try to fill his father's shoes, or have

to be the one to tell him the next time he calls for his father in his sleep that no, it's not papa...papa isn't here anymore. In the daylight, he knows this, but in his dreams he still doesn't believe his parents can be dead. But I suppose it will all work itself out in due time. We'll get accustomed to the new meaning to the word ''family''. Silently I make my way down the stairs to go to the kitchen to heat some tea. Then sitting at the table, I stew in it, the vapors soothing me somewhat, but not enough. I have so much unrest in me...I barely know how to contain the emotions after what has happened. Ironic. Me, the one who has always been known as the cold, emotionless one. I guess when it all boils down, I'm more human than I think I am. Or maybe ''as'' human as I should be.

In another week, my investigational team starts to lay down some preliminary plans for military strikes against our assailants the ones we ''think'' did this. The order to go doesn't come from me, so I'll do what they say I have to, but I cringe at the thought that what we think and what we know could be two totally different things. Yes, the evidence strongly suggests one terrorist group a group that has been a thorn in the side of the Preventers since its inception I just pray that all the evidence is enough. I know more people will die, and I know some of those people will be innocent to the war crimes committed on Earth soil, but it has to stop, all of it. Dorothy Catalonia believed that to create peace there has to be war. She had an odd way of expressing her viewpoint, seeming to some to be very distorted but thinking about it, I realized that she was probably right. How can there be peace if there is no fighting? How can there be black if there is no white? They go together. The trouble is, we alr

eady fought, and I don't want to do it again. But I will, to once again obtain that peace. Even though it's top secret, the others know what's coming, those that know me. They can see it in my expression. The cold glare of J's perfect soldier has returned as I think about this every waking moment. Once again, a mission has consumed my purpose, only this time it's one mission among many. I have responsibilities now to not only the people of Earth and the colonies as before, but to my wife and my new family, and to my friends. Relena tries hard to keep me relaxed; to keep me from turning into that mechanical excuse for a human being that I used to be, but I feel it coming on. For the first time in ten years, mobile suits are being produced here on the Earth once I'm inside one of them, I will again be lost to the battle until I can return home so that she can deprogram me. I shake my head in either disgust or agony I'm not sure which. What else can I do? Even so, it's not going to be the same as it was.

Duo will come back to the battle, I've seen it in his eyes since Hilde and Alicia's funerals. Wufei will be there, like me, protecting his own with all his Dragon courage. Trowa will not be on the front lines, he's made that clear and I don't blame him. He's already lost enough and he has to be the stability for his own family. Quatre. He was the spirit of our hopes back then. In many ways the strongest of us all. Without him, we've had to find our own strengths and I only hope it will be enough. It has to be. My tea has grown cold, and I have to be back at the new Headquarters in the morning after taking the boys to Caitlin's birthday party. Relena has more meetings her life has become one big meeting. Pulling myself up from my seat I fumble to turn off the light, then meticulously stealth my way back up to the bedroom where I haven't been missed yet. Laying my robe on the chair beside the bed, I slide back under the warm covers and let out a sigh. That's when Relena wakes up. Groggily she asks ""Heer

o? Is everything OK?"" ""Yes, fine hon. Go back to sleep. You need your rest."" I answer what I know she needs to hear to fall back to sleep, then try to do the same.

Part 10 - Celebration

"Caitlin, hold still," I said as I tried to get her hair into a ponytail. The little elastic was not cooperating, preferring to wrap itself around my finger instead of her hair. I wondered again how Wufei and Duo managed these things. "It's going to be really strange," she said as she perched on the stool in front of the huge antique vanity in what's now become her room. One of Quatre's impulse buys. It's French, I think, with roses carved all over. He meant it for a wedding present for Relena, but Zechs managed to persuade him she had enough antiques. Zechs thought it was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen. I think he was right. Quatre only saw the roses. "What is?" I asked as I got the elastic to work. "Having a birthday without Mommy and Uncle Quatre," she said. I couldn't help but agree with her. Cathy was still in the hospital and Quatre. . . I wouldn't think about the dream I had last night. "I know, sweetheart," I pressed my chin to the top of her head, "it's going to be really strange, but all

your friends are coming so we'll still have a lot of fun." "What if she comes when we're all in the garden?" Caitlin worried as we headed downstairs. I sighed. There was still little chance of Cathy coming; how do you tell a seven year old her mother doesn't /want/ to get better? "She would have to buzz from the main gate," I explained. "And that would get forwarded to the house, where Abdul, Sana, Yamilla or Nahar would let us know." When Quatre and I committed to each other, Iria and the sisters who approved gave us this "small estate." Only the Winners would find a twelve bedroom house on seven acres "small." The Maganacs went back to their homes, except for Abdul who moved into the downstairs "servant's wing". I suspect Abdul wanted to stay all along, but he claims his three wives ambushed him and made him promise to take care of "Master Trowa and the little ones." I've been glad of their help, I'm not totally helpless but I know my limits. "Oh," she paused on the stairs again. "What if she call

s?" "She'll get the answering service and they'd forward it straight to my cell phone, all right?" "All right," Caitlin scooted ahead to where the boys were already having breakfast. I sighed again. I had never considered children as a part of my life. I'd never really been a child and had never really known any. Seven years ago, my sister wanted to have a child. She could have gone to any genetic bank on Earth or on the colonies, but she didn't want to have "just anyone's" child. She asked Quatre to donate his sperm. He was delighted and agreed on the condition that he become "Uncle Quatre" and a part of the child's life. The result was Caitlin, but even then, she was just distant enough that I didn't really feel involved. When the shuttle accident killed Quatre's sister Alea and her husband, the last thing we expected was that Alea had asked Quatre to be the guardian of her sons. I suddenly found myself involved in a major way. I was nervous enough dealing with Assad and Rafi, but then we ended up

having to fight "the Furies" or so Quatre dubbed Jaffa, Vashti and Daris - the three sisters who disapproved of Quatre's lifestyle and choice of partner. For all of that, for the last four years Quatre had been the one who was the most involved with the boys. He was the one more openly affectionate. He was the one who met with the teachers and the day care providers. Now, I have to be their strength and their stability. I don't know how. As soon as I think that, it's as if I'm on the catwalk in Peacemillion, looking over the rehab of Sandrock and Heavyarms and wondering if I can be of any use to these warriors. Quatre stepped up behind me, slipped one arm around my waist and the other around my chest, just holding me and letting me feel his strength. "You'll do the best you can, I know it," he whispered. I was frozen at the base of the stairs. I could almost /feel/ his arms around me again. Oh, God, Quatre. . . The gate buzzed, breaking the spell. "I'll get it!" I yelled and toggled the intercom.

It was Heero. He was early, but I knew he had a meeting with Sally at the New Headquarters. Duo was right behind him. "Better make extra pancakes," I warned Nahar. Her veil twitched in a smile. She's Abdul's youngest wife and isn't comfortable enough around me to take off her face veil. Yamilla and Sana simply wear their hair covered, regarding me as a sort of cousin. I went to the door and the Maxwell boys almost ran me down. "Calm down you hooligans!" Duo yelled. "Pagan! Damian! Get back here and apologize to your Uncle Trowa." They came back, a little sulky. They were both Duo in miniature, with long chestnut braids. Pagan is nine and I wonder what the old servant of the Peacecraft's would say if he ever saw his demonic violet-eyed namesake. Damian, at six, has Hilde's blue eyes and something of her face until he grins and that grin is pure Maxwell. "Sorry, Uncle Trowa," they chorused. "All right, go ahead," I laughed. They tore to the kitchen at a gallop. Duo piled some packages on the sitting

room couch. "Is it safe to come in?" Heero asked at the door. Jonathan was sitting on his hip. Alexander stood with an armful of wrapped boxes. He looked so much like his father, it was startling. "I think so," I said. "Maxwell, don't you feed those kids of yours?" Heero teased as he set Jonathan down. Alexander put the packages down next to Duo's. "Go on you two, before the Maxwells get it all." "Can I help it if they think the harem's pancakes are better than mine?" Duo shrugged. "You're here early, too." "Meeting," said Heero, his mouth closing with a snap on the word. Duo stiffened. "No," he said shortly. "You can't come, not yet." "When?" There was something cold in Duo's eyes, something I hadn't seen since the last battle outside Brussels. An icy wind seemed to chill the room. "Soon enough," Heero scowled, then something melted in his face. "Don't be in such a hurry, Duo. It will come soon enough." "Guess so," Duo shrugged and headed out to the kitchen. Heero looked at me as if he exp

ected me to say something. "They'll call me if they need me," was all I said. He nodded. I had already been to one meeting. A grid covered map and small chips to represent airplanes, ammunition caches, fuel storage. It all looked like a chess board. A chess board where the players were flesh and blood. I walked into the kitchen where all was noise, confusion and laughter. I would not think of the chessboard today. After packing away a surprising number of pancakes, the children ran outside. Assad and Jonathan took off on some exploration through the garden while the older boys dug out the basketball and began to shoot hoops off the garage with Duo yelling advice from the sidelines. Caitlin bounced and cheered. We saw the gate open and the Changs' car came around the driveway. The twins came squealing out and Wufei gravely handed a collection of boxes to Yamilla at the door. "I see the festivities have already started," he remarked to me. I nodded. "No, no, Alex! Turn your back to him and dribble!

" Duo yelled. "You think you could do better?" Heero challenged, walking on the court and taking the ball. "Thought you had a meeting to go to," Duo countered. "I can be late," he snapped the ball at Duo. Wufei gave me a nudge and we let go of our dignity to run around the court in a quick-moving two on two. For awhile, the world slipped away, leaving us to chase the ball and yell and laugh like we hadn't been able to do for weeks. The kids were cheering on the sidelines. Jonathan and Assad came running from the garden. "No fair! No fair! No fair!" Duo howled as I shot into the air, making the basket and one of my old triple spins as well. "Just because you can't jump. . ." I teased, panting. "I'll show you jump," Duo sputtered, suddenly slamming into me and knocking me into the grass. "Pig pile!" screamed Pagan. We were promptly buried in children and unearthed ourselves to find that Heero and Wufei had slipped away during the scrimmage. "What next? What next?" shouted Damian, waving his a

rms. Rafi ran over to the "outdoors box" and dug out the soccer ball. They tore off across the lawn. "When are we gonna have see the presents?" demanded Jonathan. "After lunch," I said. "About three o'clock, what," I stopped and swallowed around the lump in my throat. "What your Uncle Quatre called tea time. That way, Uncle Heero, Aunt Relena, Aunt Sally and Uncle Wufei can all see the presents, too." "Okay," said the four year old. He scooted off, yelling to Assad it was /his/ turn to be the lion, whatever that meant. The soccer game stopped when the children found the big leaf pile the gardeners had raked up. I shudder to think how long they must have worked, because in ten minutes it had completely disintegrated. The girls were as bad as the boys, yelling, rolling around and throwing leaves at each other. Duo doubled over, laughing his head off until Pagan got him in the face. I left them screaming and running away from "the wrath of Shinigami" and went to track down Assad and Jonathan. I found

them at the "sunset bench." Quatre and I called it that because it was the best place to watch the sunset from and just the right size to cuddle together. Assad was the lion tamer, with a stick, while Jonathan was the lion, jumping for the end of the stick like a cat chasing a feather and trying to roar. I laughed and did a cartwheel out of the bushes. Just like that, they were clowns, turning somersaults-or trying to, and walking on their hands as long as I kept hold of their feet. "Master Trowa!" called Abdul. "Lunch is almost ready. I think our guests had better get cleaned up or Yamilla will be angry." "Come on," said Assad. "You don't want to make Yamilla angry; she /scares/ Abdul." "Now, wait a minute," Abdul sputtered. We shooed the other kids in. The girls all retreated to Caitlin's room, while the boys ran around the second floor. The harem had cleared the presents from the couch and stacked them on the dining room sideboard. They all took turns looking them over. Assad poked through them t

wice and then came over to me. "Where's Uncle Quatre's present?" he demanded. "Assad," it took all I could do to keep my voice steady. "Uncle Quatre's not here to give Caitlin a present." "Just 'cause he's not here doesn't mean he didn't get her a present." Assad scowled at me. "He wasn't here for /my/ birthday but he remembered a present. Uncle Quatre wouldn't forget /Katy's / birthday!" "He didn't forget, little lion," I said. "He just didn't have time." He wasn't pleased, but went to the table. Lunch was Sana's creamy tomato soup and cheese sandwiches. Jonathan almost fell asleep at the table. Duo scooped him up and I took Assad. He whined a little that he wasn't sleepy but he was out cold on my shoulder before we got upstairs. We left the two of them in one of the rooms. "You look like you're doing okay," Duo said. "I'm getting by," I shrugged. It was a lie, but I'd gotten good at it. It's not like /he/ needed my troubles on top of his own. Duo put his hands on my shoulders. "Just rememb

er, you're not alone. I'm here. I know how much it hurts waking up to those empty sheets every day." I'd seen that look on his face before. On Peacemillion, when every day was a grueling succession of those damned mobile dolls draining everything away until by the time we landed /we/ were mechanical. He and I and Quatre, we reached out to each other just to feel alive again. But the one person who made me feel the most alive isn't. I stepped back out of his hands. "Thanks." We went downstairs. The morning had drained some of that amazing energy from the kids, so they were ready to watch some movies until it was time for the cake. Duo and I ended up breaking up an argument as to which movie they wanted to watch. Caitlin went over to look at her presents.

"Think you got enough?" I asked. "I guess so," she said, pushing the bright colored boxes as if she was looking for something. "Katy," I took her by the shoulders the way Duo had just taken me. "Uncle Quatre would have bought you a dozen presents. . . " "I know /that/," she said crossly. I sighed and sat down. I couldn't concentrate on the movie, I felt uncomfortable, like I'd forgotten something. I couldn't stop thinking about the dream I had last night.

******** We were in the third bedroom, the one that has the ladder to the crawl space. It was Christmas Eve and we had /finally/ gotten the boys to sleep. Cathy had promised to bring Caitlin over in the morning. "Careful!" Quatre called as I pulled on the chain. The ladder dropped swiftly and we both had to catch it before it hit the floor. "We've got to get this fixed, someone could get hurt." I shrugged and we went upstairs. There was a huge pile of green and gold wrapped boxes. "Quatre! How many presents did you buy?!" "You know, I'm not sure," he laughed. "I see something and I get it." He started handing me boxes. "Anyway, not all of these are for Christmas; that's for Relena's birthday and this one's for Wufei's. . . Hands off! That one's /yours/!" "Relena's birthday isn't for /months/ and neither is mine!" I sputtered. "I don't want to forget," he said, his face getting very sad. "I know what it's like to get your birthday or Christmas forgotten because someone thought whatever they were

doing was more important than /you/. I am never, /never/ going to let that happen to the people I love."

******** A shock went through me. He wouldn't have forgotten Katy's birthday! I hadn't even looked in the crawl space. His voice seemed to echo in my ears. /"We've got to get this fixed, someone could get hurt."/ I stood up. "I'm going to check on the boys." "Yeah, wake 'em up, otherwise you'll never get 'em to sleep tonight." Duo advised, with Damian's head in his lap. I took the stairs two at a time. They weren't in the bedroom. I knew where they were. They were in the third bedroom and they had pulled over a side chair to reach the chain. "No!" I yelled just as Jonathan yanked on it. The ladder dropped. I grabbed them both, yanking them out of the chair. The heavy ladder crashed down on the chair, breaking the back off it. I sat down hard with Jonathan and Assad in my lap. "What the hell was that?" Duo yelled. I heard him thundering up the stairs. My heart was pounding. I clutched the boys tight. They stared at the ruined chair. "Wow," said Jonathan. "Holy !" Duo reached the room. "Are the

y okay?" "Yeah," I let go and stood up. "This is where Uncle Quatre keeps all his presents," Assad informed Duo. "Oh, yeah?" Duo headed up the ladder after him. "'M sorry we broke the chair," said Jonathan, still holding my hand. I just nodded. I couldn't speak. "Yee-ow! It's the motherlode!" Duo laughed. Assad came scrambling back down with a square box wrapped in blue and white paper in his hands. I saw the post-it note labeled with Quatre's neat letters "Caitlin's birthday." "I /told/ you he wouldn't forget!" Assad crowed. "Take it down stairs," my voice was shaking again.

"I'm guess the green ones are for Christmas," said Duo. "This red one's for Heero's birthday. Will you look at all these?" he stacked up the blue and white boxes. "There's nearly two dozen and only a few of them are labeled, why would he do that?" "Probably felt sorry for the sales clerk," I said, sitting on the crawlspace floor. "Re-remember when we went to that sushi bar and that jerk called the cashier a 'gook' ?" "Yeah, Heero and Wufei kicked his ass black and blue," Duo nodded. "You, Cat and I took care of his friends." "And they catered Winner Enterprises events for the next year," I picked up one of the boxes. It was labeled 'Lady Une.' "He-he had all these before. . ." My hands started shaking. I had to put it down. My chest hurt so much I couldn't see. Something snapped and I felt the tears start as a wordless howl of pain ripped from my throat. Duo was there. He wrapped his arms around me. "Okay, okay, let it out. Let it go," he whispered as I sobbed and sobbed. "You've got to let it out.

Heero said he hadn't seen you cry. I wasn't paying attention." "Sorry," I choked. "Can't. Shouldn't." I tried to push him away and get back under control. "Fuck that," he grabbed even tighter. "Do you know how many sessions with Doctor Bob I've sat and bawled in? Yeah, he was an asshole with you and I'm sorry. But you've got to let it out, Trowa, or it'll kill you." "Twelve years. . .not enough." "Hell no," said Duo softly. "And eighteen months really sucks." He was referring to Alicia. I suddenly saw the small blue and white box next to his knee. I'm not sure how long I cried. The front of Duo's plaid shirt was soaked. Finally, I was able to stop and we went down to the bedroom for tissues. Duo brought the little box labeled "Alicia" with him. "Master Trowa?" Abdul came to the door. "Your guests are here." "Give us a minute, huh?" said Duo. "Abdul," I wiped at my eyes. "We've got to get that ladder fixed." "I will take care of it in the morning," he assured me. He came over and hugged me. "

Grief is a flame that devours from within," he said. "Master Quatre would not want you to suffer." "Thank you," I hugged him back. After a few moments, I went and washed my face. Downstairs, no one said anything. Relena kissed me. I shook my head. I refused to call more attention to myself. We sang "Happy Birthday" and cut the cake. Caitlin opened her presents. Duo and his sons had wrapped a selection of plastic Breyer horse models. Abdul and his wives gave a gift certificate and a promise for a "girl's only" day out. Wufei and Sally contributed a real china teapot, sugar and creamer set, while the girls gave charms for her charm bracelet. Relena contributed four matching cups to the tea set, Jonathan followed family tradition and gave a teddy bear, Alexander gave a "cool mix" CD and Heero horrified Abdul's wives by giving Caitlin a set of monogrammed throwing knives. Trowa's present was her very own half-mask. She saved Quatre's present for last. She needed some help getting it out of the square box.

It was a snow globe with a music box in the base. Inside the globe, a dancer in a rainbow dress stood poised among the swirling flakes. "It's my circus dress!" Caitlin shrieked. "My circus dress!" "Oh, it's beautiful, Katy!" Relena cried. Caitlin wound it up and we watched the dancer twirl to the music. Caitlin sniffed and began to cry. Relena wrapped her in her arms. I put my hands over my face. "We all miss him," said Heero roughly. I lowered my hands. "Thank you," I said. "Hey," I had to stop and swallow. "Hey! It's still a party! Want to watch Wufei and me beat Heero and Duo at basketball?" "You wish, Barton!" Duo laughed. The phone rang. Yamilla went to get it. "Miss Caitlin!" she cried. "Come quick! It's your mother!" The basketball game was almost forgotten as we stood and watched. It was a short phone call, but Caitlin's face glowed when she came back. "That was the best present of all!" she cried. "Mom-Mom says they've got a new therapist at the hospital. She was sorry she couldn't

come today but-but Travis says she might be able to come home for a visit at Christmas!" We all cheered.

******** It was dark when I opened my eyes, I could just see him across the room at the mirror, adjusting his tie in the charcoal grey light just before dawn. "I thought I could just slip away," he said. "You should know better," I sat up. One of his business trips. Then the light became clearer and I could see what he was wearing. His Preventer's dress uniform and the tie the boys had bought him on the day he. . . . "No," I whispered. "Now, don't be like that," he said. "You know what I've said before." He came to the side of the bed. "It's only going to seem like forever, but when we're together again, you'll realize that it was no time at all." He kissed me. I reached up to grab him, hold him one more time. . . .

********* "No!" I was sitting up in bed, alone in the white light of the morning. His kiss was still on my mouth. I looked at the clock. It was the usual time. I lay back down. Maybe the kids would be worn out from yesterday and sleep late. "I did not!" No such luck. "Did to!" "Did not!" "Did to!" "I'm telling! I'm telling! I'm telling!" They thundered into the room. "Wait a . . ." "She started it!" "I did not!" "One at a. . ." "Rafi said. . ." "Shut up, squirt!" "UNCLE TROWA HASN'T HAD HIS COFFEE YET!" I roared. Why did I ever get out of my Gundam and surrender? "Sorry, Uncle Trowa," they chorused and then jumped on the bed. I had to grab a pillow to defend myself. Why did I get out of my Gundam? Because I was hoping to find an excuse to live. Now, I've got three. Stop laughing, Quatre.

Part 11 - Coming Full Circle

The call came last week. I knew it would only be a matter of time.

As much as I fussed before about being excluded from planning and preparation, and being forced to take time off...now here it is, and I'm scared. Maybe being away helped, maybe it didn't. All my pain is still here like it was before, but I guess I've lost that knife-edge that I had immediately after the tragedy. They wanted me thinking clearly, not with my emotion and need for revenge. Now I'm thinking so clearly that the thought of going to war again scares the shit out of me. Besides the fact that I'm all the boys have left...the last month of my life has been a rerun of my past, the bad parts of it, and all the turmoil that I went through getting myself to the ripe old age of twenty-something. I tried so hard to put it all behind me, and here it is, slapped in my face again like it was yesterday.

Intelligence has been trying to negotiate with the organization that prompted the attack on Preventers Headquarters. Never fails. After years of quiet and peace, there always has to be some quack out there convincing people that they still need to be at war to fight for some other definition of equality, and eventually they drag the rest of the innocent world into it. It's been that way for thousands of years. I'm not gullible enough to think that it will stop now. So instead, here we all go again.

I talked to Heero last week - he's the one who called me to tell me that we were going to war again, and I could come back for briefing and reinstatement if I wanted too. He's so different. I've never seen him this way before. Not the indestructible man he always used to be. I think he's actually worried, like I am. Not worried that we'll fail, or worried that we wont be able to end the conflict the way it needs to be ended - worried because I think he, just like me, had foolishly thought that he could put war behind him. That unspoken language that he and I have always shared, its still there, and I can feel it in him. Because I feel it in me, too.

Trowa and I actually got a few minutes of quiet to sit in the study and talk at Caitlin's party. Just as Heero had said, he isn't going to be with us when we man our new Gundams and head out. He's going to take care of some less risky missions instead. He's scared too. I think the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife that afternoon, between the silence and the churning stomachs as we tried to face the reality of what was eventually going to be on our plates. But I don't fault the guy for declining to get involved with the combat. He and I are both suffering the same consequences after the attack, but somehow I think that it's going to be harder for him. Not that it isn't going to be excruciating for me...but I've always been able to overcome eventually. Trowa...well...lets just say that having Quatre in his life was what he needed to figure out who he really was. Going on without him is going to be a real test of his self worth and confidence. At least he has the kids, and Catherine, to

keep him occupied.

The meeting last week was interesting. Sally briefed us on the details of who and what, then let Relena take over. Relena then proceeded to explain that due to the fragile condition of the hard- fought peace that we've all enjoyed for the past 10 years, and due to the economic ramifications that more attacks would have on the world, she was forced to agree with Sally that this was a case for military intervention. The group responsible for the whole mess was fluctuating between denying any responsibility and threatening more attacks, so it was time to take action or risk more innocent lives lost and more damage to our fragile society of peace. It was after numerous meetings and conferences with the leaders of the nations and the colonies that Relena was given the go-ahead to order the start up of the only remaining mobile suit factory and begin production. That must have been a sad, sad day for Relena, announcing those orders, because she had taken so much pride in being the one directly responsible for dis

mantling all the factories in the first place.

After the prototype was built and tested, the first suits to leave the assembly line were Heero's and mine. Wing Zero II and Deathscythe II. The rest were of a similar design, but in standard issue. When we were both called to go to the factory to be fitted for the mechanicals, I think we both experienced the same mental whiplash. I went through the process in a daze the whole time, in disbelief that there I was, being thrown back into another mobile suit. It was real. We were really going to do this. By the time we were able to leave the mobile suit factory, Heero and I were both so emotionally drained that we went out for a beer and neither of us said a word the whole time. It was creepy.

I always have the option not to fight, like Trowa has opted, but something inside me tells me that I have to. I have to put aside my pain and my fear and do this. Heero and I are the two best and most experienced pilots in the whole organization, and right now, that's going to mean a lot. Wufei is too involved with the diplomatic end of things to man another suit, and having lost Zechs is an enormous blow that will have to be dealt with as well. I can't simply throw Heero to the wolves by himself with a few lesser experiences pilots and live with myself. I know he can handle himself in a mobile suit, probably better than I can, but there's just something about the respect I have for him as a pilot and a friend that tells me that he and I will do this together, as we had before. There's no question about it.

I'm going to miss the boys. Being away from them will be my greatest motivation to keep my head clear and do what I have to do so we can all come home sooner. I know they'll be fine while I'm gone, so I'm not worried about them, per se. Tanja Winner, Quatre's youngest sister, just a year older than he, will be staying with them. It worked out kind-of conveniently in a way - she wanted to take a class while working on her Master's Degree, so doing this gives her an excuse to leave her job for a bit and care for the boys while she goes to class during their school day. My biggest fear though, is that God forbid something happens to me, and I never return to them. That's the hardest thing I have to think about right now, but if I don't go, it will be a given that they will one day be forced to leave me with the possibility of never returning. Hell...that might happen anyway, but I have to do what I can to push that as far away from reality as possible.

So many things are rushing through my head right now that it's almost maddening. I keep having flashbacks of arriving on the scene that day, and of Wufei and I hugging in our combined misery. My mind is like a slide show as images and faces flash up, bringing with them the memories that right now only leave me with more pain than any happiness. The slide show flashes all the way back to my beginnings, and progresses to my first experiences as a Gundam pilot. Images of Hilde when I first met her fill my brain and tears come to my eyes. Then suddenly she's gone and I see Quatre and Trowa together that fateful day when we were able to end the Colonies War, Quatre having been injured and Trowa trying to help him out of his Gundam. Then there's the memory of Heero and I together while we planned the attack on Dekim Barton's fortress, and then me helping them carry Heero out of there after he'd collapsed.

I wipe tears from my cheeks as one by one the images hit me, the knot inside my stomach building with each memory. I realize that my hands are grasping and releasing the controls over and over again, my arms tense and defined, my body rigid in the pilot's seat. Outside this cockpit is the world waiting to be saved again, and they're depending on me one more time. Grabbing the controls and holding them this time, I can feel my arms trembling with the anticipation of the next few minutes.

Heero rides the cable lift up to poke his head in. The look on his face is solemn, but serious, and I see that he's starting to regain that soldier composure of his. He sighs, then asks "You ready?" His eyes are burning holes in me.

"Yeah." I say. What can I say other than that? I'm as ready as I'm going to be. No, I don't want to go and no, I don't want to even think about this anymore. But it isn't going away, and I came to the realization a while ago that the only people who are going to make it going away are both inside the cockpit of Deathscythe II right now. Heero reads me like an open book, my eyes surely giving me away.

"You sure you can do this?" he asks.

"I'll be fine once we get going and I can clear my head." It's the truth. Once I have more things to think about, like, not crashing, and reading data, and reaching coordinates, I'll be OK. My jester's mask will come back out and no one will be able to tell that there's anything bothering me. It's the down time that's dangerous, because that's when my thoughts wander.

"We'll rendezvous with Peacemillion as planned, and then wait for instructions." Then without saying another word, Heero descends on the lift cable, and I press the button to bring it back up empty.

Across the hanger I see him ride his own lift and enter the cockpit of Wing Zero II. We both close our hatches and fire up the cockpit controls. There are five other mobile suits leaving with us this trip, and one by one they too power up and come to life. I switch on my com link. Heero's is already on. Briefly we catch each other's gaze and he nod's at me before turning to his controls and readying his Gundam to lift off. The hanger is now filling with well-wishers and Preventers personnel, all waving and calling to us. I see Sally there, waving too, a smile on her face as we start to leave. But behind the smile and behind her eyes I can see the concern as two of her finest lead off the first team of soldiers into the next chapter in the saga of this drama called peace.

As Deathscythe II comes to life and heads for the hanger doors and what awaits beyond them, suddenly I'm fifteen all over again.

~owari