I do not own Gundam Wing. This fan fiction has no commercial value and I am not making any kind of profit or income off of this. 

Chapter 13

Relena waited until all the others left for the hospital, then opened her window and climbed down the wall. She was an expert at it by now, often taking that route to escape her guards long enough to take a walk along the beach. She headed there now.

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Milliardo was arguing with a nurse, while Heero ripped bandages off his head and shoulder. The nurse finally gave up, and left, only to return a few moments later with a pair of crutches. Heero glared at them.

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Ignoring the chill in the air, Relena took her shoes off, and carried them as she walked along the water’s edge. The last breath of waves washed over her feet. She thought again of the first time they had met. The cold sunlight kissed the tears on her face as she waded deeper and deeper into the icy water that reminded her of his eyes.

The water swirled and bubbled. Waves crashed into her, knocking her off her feet. She drew in a sharp breath, and suddenly the world came back into focus. She fought against the current sweeping her away. Finally, her feet once again touched soft sand.

Relena walked back to the house. Her clothes were soaked through to her skin, and she shivered in the winter air. As she arrived, Milliardo, Noin, Duo, and Heero pulled up in the limo. She quickly ran around to the back, dashing up the stairs and into her room just before Heero crutched into view. He frowned as he heard her door close, but it took him awhile to make it up the stairs.

He reached her room, and walked in to see her coming out of her bathroom in a robe, toweling off her hair. His eyes narrowed as he spied the wet clothing hanging up, and traces of sand on the shoes near her bed. He smelled the ocean as she came closer, and wondered why she looked so pale. “Heero,” she said hoarsely, surprised at his barging in that way. She shivered.

            “Relena, what were you thinking?” he asked angrily grabbing her arm. Her skin was like ice. He gasped in surprise and released her.

She was trembling all over from the cold. He picked her up; the free crutch hit the floor with a small thud. He laid her on the bed, and covered her up with blankets before calling Pagan to bring up some hot tea.

That done, Heero picked up his crutch, and took up his familiar position leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, just watching.

Pagan came in a few moments later with the tea. He placed it beside her bed, and left.

            Relena sighed softly and sat up in the bed to drink her tea. She didn’t need to look at Heero to know he was glaring at her. “Does he expect an answer?” she wondered.

“Heero….” She said softly, her eyes closed.

“That’s not my name,” he said flatly.

Relena’s eyes snapped open. “I don’t know my name – not my real one, anyway.” His face was impassive; his voice the usual monotone. “The name I went by before Operation Meteor was Odin Lowe, Jr. But even that isn’t my real name.”

“Heero,” she said again. “Why…?” her voice trailed off, unsure of what she was asking.

            He turned away from her. “In answer to your question, ‘Who do I think I am’, I am nobody. I am a soldier without a battle to fight. Lost, since the day I was born. I was a fool to think I could make you happy,” he said, reaching for the door. He heard her gasp in surprise, but he was already gone.

Duo was waiting across the hall. His head was bowed, and his hat cast a shadow over much of his face. “Zeches was right. You are a coward.” He said before walking off.

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Relena woke the next morning with a terrible cold. She was running a fever and felt miserable. Milliardo refused to let her leave her room. Mid-afternoon, Ambassador Quincy arrived. Milliardo, Noin, and Heero held a top-secret meeting with the Ambassador in Milliardo’s office. The elderly man took the news surprisingly well.

Instead of blaming Heero for his grandson’s death, he seemed intrigued by the young man. The four decided the best course of action would be to leak the information that Jacob had died during the rescue attempt.

His job done, Heero went back to his room to pack up his stuff. He wanted to get far away from there.

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Heero finished packing and made his shuttle arrangements to go back to L1. Once his preparations were made, he contacted Dr. J. Surprisingly, the old man was not happy that his protégé was returning. “You said this was your last mission, my boy.”

“I failed my mission. I am returning home,” came the terse reply before the connection was abruptly ended.

A knock sounded on his bedroom door. Heero grabbed his gun, and opened it. He was surprised to see the Ambassador standing there.

“May I come in?” he asked politely.

Heero didn’t reply, just made room for the man to enter. Ambassador Quincy tossed a couple of folders onto Heero’s desk and took a seat. Heero looked down at the folders. One was his medical chart from the hospital. He arched an eyebrow and picked up the other folder. It was marked “Confidential.”

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An emergency meeting of the Colonial Senate was called to order. Many of the delegates were fearful of what the outcome would be, since the news was released that Jacob had been killed. Ambassador Quincy spoke what all of them felt, that an alliance was still necessary because no one wanted war. A delegation from another colony recommended a new marriage contract. At that point, Milliardo stepped up and took over the meeting.

“Gentlemen, the Cinq Kingdom still supports an alliance with the Colonies. However, we will not enter into a new agreement that involves an arranged marriage for Miss Relena. My personal feeling is that this is an antiquated tradition left over from the glory days of a bygone era. It is a practice that reeks of the aristocratic traditions of the late Treize Krushrenada. Miss Relena has offered to personally meet with a select number of delegates to ratify a new treaty, in the hopes that we may still form the needed alliance, and protect the peace we all fought for. Thank you.”

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“Hn….” Heero said and switched off the television.

“Looks like Miss Relena won’t be marrying after all, Heero,” Dr. J said smiling.

Heero didn’t answer. Instead, he started packing up his things.

“Going somewhere, my boy?” Dr. J asked.

“Yes. I don’t know if I’ll be coming back.”

“I knew that would happen sometime. She’s really an amazing girl. I remember when I met her…”

Heero cut him off, “It doesn’t have anything to do with Relena.”

“Ah, perhaps you’re right. But then again, when it concerns your heart, Heero, it always has something to do with Relena.” Dr. J said knowingly as he left the room.

“Hn…” Heero finished packing his bag.

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The butler answered the door, and came face to face with a young man who seemed somewhat familiar. “May I help you?” he asked.

Before the visitor could speak, Ambassador Quincy called out that he was the expected guest. “Ah, Master Trente. Yes, we have your room all ready for you, sir. This way, please.”

The young man followed obediently. The Ambassador smiled at him as they walked by.

            After giving him time to get settled in his room, the Ambassador went to check on his new guest. “Are your accommodations satisfactory?” he asked.

“I would have preferred something simpler,” came the flat reply.

“Hmm…well, I suppose you’ll have to get used to this. It’s part of being wealthy,” the elder man smiled. “Oh, and this is for you,” he said handing the young man a set of car keys. “So you can come and go as you please. This is your home now.”

The young man looked at the set of keys in his hand, and nodded. “How…how did you know?”

“Your eyes, they’re exactly like your mother’s. In fact, with brown hair, you look just like her,” he said wistfully.

“So who was Jacob?”

“He was the son of my niece. I took him in when she died. I hope you didn’t mind me getting your medical records and having your DNA checked against my own. I know it was a horrible invasion of privacy. But I just had to know….” He paused briefly. “By the way, I don’t really know what to call you – what do you prefer?”

“I’ve gone by the code name Heero Yuy for the last five years. But I should try to get used to my real name. So, call me Trente.”

The Ambassador beamed. “And I would like you to call me Grandfather.”

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