Part Five of Two Steps

[Desert Bloom]

Authoresses Note: Please review!!!! I love getting reviews. This one is like another twenty-page-er, which feels really strange to me since this originally was all supposed to happen in part four. Part Four would have been forty pages?.00

***Part Five of Two Steps: Swiftly Falling***



When it was all said and done, I was left wondering.

Why, I asked myself, why in god?s name HAD I stepped forward, stepped forward and made them let me have my way? Looking back, it seemed like an awful choice, a hesitation in the moment?s impending importance.

But then again, the problem was that I hadn?t hesitated, I hadn?t even thought. That was the problem. Pure and simple.

More startling, though, was that I couldn?t take it back, I?d gone up and done it, so no way was I going to let me ruin it for me, an idea that was too confusing to understand. Idiocy, perhaps, idiocy working hard as the idiot sold her soul to the devil and accepted the role as Heero?s back up.

Or maybe it was just stubbornness. I was starting to believe that there was no difference whatsoever between the two traits anyway.

The next day or so didn?t leave too much to pondering, though, but maybe if it had I would have finally started using those brains so many people told me I had. My god, had that been me who had stood up in front of millions of people and persuaded them to look towards the pacifying ideal of peace? I was starting to marvel that there had even been such a time.

And now I had to use my time learning how to shoot a gun.




So it was in the early morning that I made my way out of the secret kitchen and into my room, stepping gingerly over the shattered glass left over from Wufei?s stray bullet, and collapsing, thankfully, onto the bed. I only had a few more hours of sleep between this and when a servant knocked on my door, saying that my presence was requested and if I would please follow her. To which I responded, why, yes, of course, just let me ?freshen up? for five minutes.

She allowed me to do so, and so shortly after being led through a series of wonderfully decorated halls I found myself in Quatre?s ?resting room?, a very large resting room indeed, lit by the ?sun?s rays? which poured forth from a particularly large window at the end of the room. The entire room had a feeling of being comforting, somehow, like a cozy cabin, which was odd, because it was anything but, being rather large. But I did not dwell long on this wonder of a decorating job.

To my mild surprise, there he was: my brother.

He stood awkwardly by the window, hands in his pockets, gazing out at the city street below us. He had always had that aura around him, I realized, that majestic wonder which always seemed to make you think to curtsy, or bow, or somehow thank him for gracing your presence. Perhaps that is somewhat exaggerated, admittedly, but there is only truth in the way the light from the window framed round him a golden glow, only in the way his passionate blue flamed eyes turned from the window to me and dwelt long on my face, and I wondered if I should have considered it an honor.

He should have been king. Not me.

That?s part of the reason I hate hate?s offspring, war. It takes the most innocent of souls and warps it for its own means. I shall personally never forget a certain memory, of my brother, as he stood in the palace, finally not in a time of war, but in a time of peace, something he had strived to do for so long ? simply be at home, without the constant knowing, the knowing that it should only last so long before he would be called off again, called to war. His icy blue eyes gazed silently up at my father?s portrait, flitting between the many intricate details of the artist?s work, before stopping long on our father?s eyes.

So long, in fact, that I opened my mouth to question him. But then his gaze fell down to his hands, and it was here that his eyes lingered before I stepped forward and laid my own hands on top of his.

?Milliardo, keep in mind that the same blood runs through our veins.? I said, in a way willing his eyes to mine with the casual, hushed love in my voice, ?Come. My hand is just as pale as yours, my fingers of the same design. Very pale, actually,? I added, chuckling, ?I?ve been meaning to get a tan.?

He shook his head, but moved to grip my hands tightly. ?You cannot see, Relena. You cannot see the dark red.?

?They are not as stained as you think.? I had merely said then, wishing I had more lovely words of wisdom and comfort. But I did not.

Ever since then, I often wonder what he sees in those hands. Hands that were meant to hold royal scepters, and, with a single wave, issue great commands, not to be wondered at in the darkness of an empty hall, empty except for the long-ago legacies and traditions of forgotten peace.

Quatre and Heero were there as well, both of them standing somewhat over to the right of my brother, talking together in hushed tones. Looking around, I did not immediately take note of Wufei, but after a moment, there he was, seated on a couch that faced the window, as his eyes unseeing watching the same horizon as my brother had. On the coffee table in front of the couch there was the same magazine he had been reading in the airplane.

I was bade to take a seat on this couch by the servant, which I did, and was handed a cup of warm tea, which I took with the biggest smile I could manage.

But I saw that Wufei?s powerfully black eyes seemed to regard me with frustration, and that he moved over to his end of the couch, discreetly so, but still so.

The five of us began our plans. Heero laid out the same rough sketch he had made in the secret kitchen on a coffee table, and proceeded to explain it all to my brother. Mostly it was all a repeat of what he had already told Wufei and I before.

There were problems when we came to the part of my being Heero?s back up. My brother would not hear of it.

?What?? He asked first, as if he had had trouble hearing. When it was repeated to him, he maintained his expression of absolute shock and disbelief. Then, when Quatre, somewhat more human Quatre, joined him at his place at the window and explained it a third time, he finally began to process it.

?It this true?? He asked me, fixing me with his eyes ? same as mine, my god, same as mine!

I nodded, slowly. ?Yes. I feel it is my responsibility.?

He shook his head, turning from his stance at the window, white hair flowing with every movement of his body. ?Your responsibility, Relena, your responsibility is in councils and debates! Not at the battlefield.?

?So was your own.? I returned levelly.

I was beginning to feel like a monster.

That sentence verily ended his protests. But I continued on, anyway, giving in to the pure rage of the last few weeks, ?After all, I?ve done my duty! I worked for peace, my brother. I worked hard, and this is where it?s gotten me.? Slowly, my eyes fell to my hands, which I clenched together nervously, and then threw Heero a glance. A meaningless glance, to be sure, but he seemed to shrink from under it, while still remaining the strong, silent character he played so well.

?The tabloids love me.?

Devotion, mingled with passionate want. Want for his own well-being.

Sweet, sinister betrayal.

And yet he seemed so sincere. So sincere about his apology, so sincere even though he only told it through his eyes! Cursed eyes.

After that, no one questioned my choice. The plans went out, they were discussed, and then just as quickly it was done and gone, our meeting at an end.

?Heero and Wufei, if you could show Milliardo his mobile suit?? Quatre instructed, ?I?ll join you in a few minutes.?

The three of them walked out, leaving only Quatre and I in the room. Draining my cup, I set it down on the coffee table and stood, primly smoothing out my dress and looking up nervously to Quatre. The boy, though quickly becoming more and more man everyday, stood by the window, in the same pose that I had first seen my brother.

I knew it was an awful thing to try and do, to even think of, but I had to try. I was somewhat supported by the idea that this time I was acting irrationally for the well-being of peace, not my own gain. But still.

?You are going to give him the money?? I asked, stepping forward with great care. I did not want to seem too imposing, but also did not want him to not take me seriously, which had been Wufei?s treacherous mistake.

He turned slowly to face me, lifting his own cup of warm tea to his lips. The steam rose from the cup to float around his gentle face in soft wisps.

?Yes.? He said, slowly, attentive eyes watching the cup, and me, somehow at the same time. At length, he lowered the cup and raised his eyes to my own, nodding.

?You can?t, Quatre!?

I took four great strides over to him and took him by the arm, turning him to face me directly. Gulping quickly, I began my long recited speech:

?Once he has the suits, he will stop at nothing to use them to full potential. He will either destroy the Earth ??

Quatre shook his head, and jerked his arm away from me, but I kept my grip on tight. I would not let Billington and his senseless D.T.E win, not over my dead body. In a strange way, I could not, but whether that was from spite or just general fear, I?m not sure. Probably fear, because, again, strangely, the fact that he had dirtied my spotless public persona meant he was a truly dangerous fellow, and that scared me. It scared me, scared me real bad because I was supposed to be untouchable.

?Quatre, wait, Quatre?! Listen to me. He?ll take full control, Quatre, because he?s power-hungry?I?ve seen the tape. You haven?t, and I would show it to you, but unfortunately someone on staff in the palace disposed of it?? At this, I began to lose my focus, and my eyes glanced from him to the window.

It was a beautiful display, a beautiful vision of prosperity. But I knew better. Deeper in the confines of this city, beyond the tall skyscrapers glimmering under the ?sun?, there was sadness, poverty, abuse.

I took a step back, unable to continue under the knowing, the knowing of failing, immediately letting go of Quatre.

Quatre rubbed his wrist, and then looked up to me, his angelic eyes so scathingly unbelieving. He licked his lips, for his mouth must have been dry, and then said, ?Relena, I know all that.?

I nodded weakly, but would not look at him.

?I don?t want to do it. But last night??

Heero. Looking at me, silent and sullen, morose and depressed, but with so much divine, wondrous potential. Potential to be a human being. Six of Quatre?s sisters, he said slowly, anger seeping through his fa?ade; six of them are married to members of Billington?s organization.

?Relena.?

I sighed, loudly. ?I?m sorry, Quatre.?

There was a silence that fell on us then, long and ignorant of its torture. I felt horrid, horrid in more ways then one, for I couldn?t understand, didn?t want to understand, what had come over me just a few moments ago. Desperation? Helplessness? Perhaps anger, pure and simple, for that is mostly how anger comes, purely and simply eating away at my good judgment.

Billington. Looking at me, his green eyes laughing with the sweetness of his accusation, saying, The Gundam pilots wreaked devastation, even while the colonies were capable of taking care of themselves. And you, Miss Relena, you supported them. Not only that, but you had a very personal connection with one of them, most definitely putting your good judgment aside! and then he dropped his eyes, and there was a single light that fell upon him, as if he were an angel, the angel in a business suit, terrible in more ways than one.

Reality cut through my fantasy, as Quatre spoke, gentle and polite as usual, but his voice somewhat tinged with the stress of the latest events.

?You know, the reason I fought was to protect my family?. I fought to protect them?and?.? He paused, and when he resumed speaking there was a noticeable raise in volume. ?The son of a bitch has my hands tied, Relena! I cannot count on my fingers how many of my sisters he can knock off at any moment. I can?t do a thing, and I don?t like it either, but?dammit, I never thought this would happen. I never thought this would happen.?

I, at last, turned to face him.

?I am very confused, Quatre.? I said, indulging myself in the most honesty and integrity that I had felt since that night with Wufei.

I could tell the feeling was mutual.




Normally, upon finding myself so confused and disoriented, I would have immediately taken a day off to sort things through. But there could be no such thing now. Barely a moment passed after I had apologized to Quatre before I was taken away for what Wufei termed training. It seemed to me more like torture, actually, as Heero, whom I felt so uncomfortable with, taught me the finer ways of handling a gun.

We worked for about five hours straight before Heero finally felt I could handle combat. Finally, though, it was done, and we were ready to go. We were, at any rate, the ?I? part in the whole thing was still trying to figure out how exactly it had gotten itself in this sorry predicament.

Parting ways, I bid Quatre a hurried goodbye, his last words ringing in my mind, and then, shrugging all tiring feelings off for the moment, boarded the shuttle that would take me to Billington?s base.

The shuttle was nearly full, and only had exactly four seats for us. Heero sat himself down in one seat, and my brother took another right across the aisle, while Wufei and I were forced to take the last two seats next to each other.

Sliding into the seat, I sighed, and rested my chin in the palm of my hand. Something told me this wouldn?t be the most comfortable flight I had spent, and sure enough, I was right on the mark. Wufei and I were both treated to long awkward pauses in our talk, when we talked at all.

?This is going to be different.? I commented at one point, looking for material and striking upon nothing worthy, so just using whatever entered my mind first.

I received only a profound silence from Wufei, so I supposed that he had been too busy in his own thoughts, or reading that dratted magazine again, so I dismissed it. Looking out into the eternal black, I closed my eyes and allowed myself some bittersweet wandering of the mind, enjoying my slow, relaxing plummet into sleep.

?Relena??

I opened my eyes quickly, snapped out of my fantasy, and, blinking, turned to face Wufei. ?What?? I asked groggily, yawning and blinking several times to try and focus.

He was, surprisingly, not looking at me, but rather the seat in front of him, as if he found looking upon my face a burden. That was probably not the case at all, but it certainly felt so.

?Do you remember when I told you about my search during the war? My search for purpose??

He had not tried to hide the fact that he had been in a war.

?Yes.?

?You are not a fighter, Relena.?

I raised an eyebrow, and shook my head. ?There are different methods of fighting. If you want, you can say I fight with words.?

He nodded, and smacked his hands together, so suddenly and quickly that I jumped. I looked at him questioningly, and he turned to face me, continuing, ?You see, Relena, you fight, true. But this is not your fight.?

Instant anger roaring throughout me. I shook my head, his nerve amazingly bright and infuriating.

?That is not true! Not my fight! I?ve put my blood out there every day for the last seven years, Wufei.?

?NO, Relena!?

As much as I tried to fight it, once Wufei was intent on something he did not stop until he had your attention. And once he had your attention, he would try to change your ideals to his own, persuading by use of simple belief, belief that he personally invested so much trust in. And he had me, hook line and sinker, mesmerized by every word he said, gazing at him, waiting anxiously for an explanation of his actions.

?What are you talking about?? I asked, mindful that I had to get hold of this conversation again. After all, in an odd way, hadn?t I started it? Therefore I was entitled to control of it. Immature perhaps, true, but in the moment I believed this and so forth acted on it.

He leaned forward across his seat, and so mesmerized, so amazed, was I, that I too leaned forward, trying to catch his every word. ?Relena,? he began again, ?I am a fighter. I put my blood out there. You put your image. Something that can be wounded, true, but not your blood.? He stopped, almost unsure of where to go next, and then said, ?I fight for honor, for justice. What do you fight for??

Easy.

?Peace.?

?And will peace be achieved if someone sees you, and informs the press? I do not think so. There will be chaos, chaos that you imposed, and Billington will have his chance.?

I glanced downwards to escape those powerful eyes of his. ?Not if he?s dead.? I said.

?NO, Relena. The chances are too great. You have to stop thinking this way. If it were not for him??

Something told me he wasn?t talking about Billington. A casual, masked feeling in his tone, I?m not sure what it was, but I knew that the ?him? was not the awful ?he? at all, not Billington, but another character. Another character just as harmful, though.

I looked up, quickly, and I think the suddenness of it surprised him. ?Who??

He got over the momentary surprise very quickly, however, and went on. ?Relena, you have to ask yourself a question: Are you doing this to convince the world of peace, or to convince one person of something you cannot even tell yourself??

So much honesty. His eyes, watching me, studying my every action, just as my own studied his, and his were burning with the same amazing passion as Heero?s, except that Heero?s burned with the sincerity he himself never felt. No, Wufei was different. Wufei?s eyes burned with honesty, integrity, a deep need for inner purity. Wufei was not complicated, he did not have layers, and he was, in fact, refreshingly simple: what you saw was what you got. You couldn?t get anymore down to earth than that, even if the man was a ?fighter?, fighting once for a cause he did not understand.

You just cannot get anymore complicatedly simple than that.

Wufei was there.

I leaned forward, hesitated, and then threw my arms round his neck, pulling him in close for a hug between friends. I could tell he was surprised, even though I could not see his face. But there was minor hesitation before he put his own arms around me, and his breathing seemed to stop for but a moment ? but then it was gone, and he hugged me back. It was a blessedly simple interaction, and I needed it.

?Thank you.? I said, resting my chin on his shoulder. Then, I added, ?I?m so sorry for saying??

He pulled back from me and held my arms in such a way that put distance between us, and then stopped me with an unwavering look and a shake of his head. ?It is all right, Relena. I just want you to know why you are doing this. I do not think it is for peace, and maybe I am wrong, but I do not think it so. I can do nothing to stop it, as you explained so to us yesterday.?

I smiled, somewhat amused, and, chuckling, looked downwards again. ?Damn you, Wufei.? I said, concentrating on the black leather seat instead of him, ?You will not let secrets be.?




I had a realization.

The last few days had been all about ME. That simply could not happen again, because it wasn?t about ME at all. It was about my people, about peace, not about some love interest I had. True, they had been foolish enough to cast me into the shadows, to shame me and possibly hate me, but they still deserved peace.

These types of things came with the job, it came with the role. The role was that I was Vice Foreign Minister, no longer a human, but looking after the needs of humans.

I was the people, in a strange way. I was their needs, their wants, and I would work hard to protect these things.

I was the peacekeeper.

And yet, even after this realization, this realization that I had known for so long and needed only to rediscover, I could not stop myself. I was more wary, more aware of everything that the three other fighters did, everything they said, but other than that, other than casting away the blindfold of my own selfishness, I continued to masquerade as Heero?s back up.

I would not back down. My selfishness was taken away, but I was still the same damned stubborn little schoolgirl who, after being threatened with death, continued to hope and wish for the thawing heart of one special peer.

But this wasn?t about my life anymore; it was about millions of lives. It was about the fate of peace.




We got off from the shuttle and made our way to our positions. The three of my companions must have each repeated everything about five hundred times, and so I knew the plan exactly.

I worked hard at a decent disguise, settling for the garb of a technician, complete with the messy overalls and the stringy haired-bun and all. Admittedly, I did not think that every technician dressed so, but it was certainly the farthest from me you could get, and so it was perfect. The whole time I worked in the crowded fast-food restaurant?s bathroom though, scenes of Wufei?s gun flashed at me. I imaged how comical it would be if it happened again, and then I could really prove that his eyes were going.

My hard-worked disguise was rewarded when I joined Heero and he at first he did not recognize me. Once I explained, and proved it was indeed I, the reddening of his face was something I greatly appreciated.

Hmm. The Perfect Soldier was not all that perfect.

At length, Heero turned himself into a fellow technician, and we went to Billington?s skyscraper of a base. I hesitated, bordering on the desire to say, okay, I tried, but you?re right, this just ain?t my job, let?s turn back and get Trowa or Noin or Sally or even Lady Une or somebody or something or an anything, anything or anybody at all. But I didn?t, my stubbornness had reached a new high, and so we wheeled in the new ?television? someone had requested, getting past the front doors.

We were in.




It did not take long to wheel the cart the television was on into an empty storage room, where we lazily gave it a push and sent it into the wall, but gently so. Sighing loudly, I turned to look at Heero, and found that he was looking down at me, both of us wondering at how this could be, that we would be doing this. Not feeling quite so comfortable under his gaze, I moved to the cart and rested my one arm on it, choosing to eye the tiled floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

?Now that we?re in, we have to find him.? Heero said, and I refrained from saying ?duh?. ?He should be at a meeting in the B-67 conference room.?

I nodded, looking up from the floor to him, but then not liking the sternness and tilting my head back to face the ceiling. ?B-67? It sounds like a type of plane or something.?

?It might be. He is eccentric.?

?I know.?

There was an awkward silence. At long last, I said, looking over to him, ?Well. You know where this room is, right??

Heero nodded, and I had a sudden, weird feeling that he had been waiting for me to look at him directly, waiting for me to grant him his full attention. This felt very strange, because it was not Heero. Heero did not care about what other people thought, unless it was something that they could act upon and ruin his ideals, yet, he had no ideals, he worked for the ideal of the moment. Simply, it was as unlike Heero as the Heero who gave me a soda and tried to be accommodating, as unlike Heero as the Heero that had apologized, as unlike the injured Heero staining white sheets a dark red.

?Come with me.? He said, now that he had that attention of mine.

I nodded, one quick bob of the head, and got up from my place at the cart, taking a first few steps over to him, but stopping. Behind me I heard a sudden, painfully loud clunk, and saw Heero?s eyes widening; turning around quickly, I was just in time to see the cart bang, hard, into the wall. It sent the television flying, with a deafening blast, into some cardboard boxes in the corner. The last remnants of the machine clattered to the floor, only a few clumps of metal now, with a few wires sticking out and hissing occasional sparks of fire-red.

I hissed out my next breath, and murmured a small curse of ?Shit,?, my hand going up to my cheek. Shaking my head unbelieving, it took me a moment to focus and realize that we were no longer alone.

A clerk that had been passing by immediately stopped and ran into the room, red-faced and horrified. ?What the hell is going on?? He asked, his hand reaching for a small cell phone on his belt, not even waiting for an explanation as he dialed the numbers quickly and practically yelled into the receiver, ?SECURITY!?

I stepped forward. ?No, wait, sir, wait?it was only an accident. Our company will get you a new one.?

?No one here requested a television. I should know. I?m the manager of all equipment.?

Damn.

I opened my mouth, hesitated, and then closed it, out of the bright ideas. Luckily though, Heero came up with a surprisingly simple solution. He calmly pulled his arm back, made a fist, and then met the man?s face in a sharp smack that resounded throughout the small room. The man was silenced at this, his head snapping back with a satisfying crack, and his body falling limply to the floor.

I nodded. ?That worked.?

?Hn. Come on, we don?t have that much time.?

True to his word, we had just headed out of the room when we saw a group of security personnel tromping towards us. My first thought was to use that persuasive ability of mine, to explain oh-so-delicately to them how honest a misunderstanding this whole mess was. Then I thought of the unconscious man in the room, and reconsidered, for even though there was something I could try, I doubted they would believe that I was the target of a sexual predator and that Heero here had just been protecting me.

I would not have put any of these ideas into work, but even if I would have I was not allowed the time. As soon his eyes struck upon the incoming group, Heero seized me roughly by the wrist and began to run.

Many ideas of escape flitted through my mind, all of them useless, because the fact of the moment was, simply, that all I could was keep running, trying, and nearly failing, to keep up with Heero. Their loud shouts of HALT, and STOP, and then, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST, seemed to pass by me without a second thought. In fact, the only thing that made me stop for a moment was the shot.

It was a gunshot, blasting into a wall in front of us. Panic and worry and the knowing of failing, the horrid feeling of knowing of failing, intertwined together to spin terrible designs that pushed up through my body, up through my chest. My heart was a drum, pulsing unbearably loud. My footsteps were eerily blissful, for each one meant that I had gone one more step to escape from this hell, and yet, with each one there was the possibility I could falter, fall, and be struck dead.

All I could do was pray. And I?ve never been that religious.

They continued to shoot. Each shot sent me into a higher panic, until I could barely think for my mind was so clouded. One hit right in front of me, etching a hole in the tiles, a hole that was close to me that it was still smoking as I stepped over it.

We ran down the one hall, then turning into another, and they chased us down this one as well. Many doors flashed by us as we ran, so I was rather confused when Heero picked one seemingly by random, flinging the door open just as a few bullets crashed into the glass pane on it, sending sharp glass everywhere. Then he pushed me into it, and followed, slamming the door behind us. A piece of glass licked my cheek, and I was suddenly aware of a soft moisture there.

I could not understand why here, why now. ?W-what now?? I asked, my voice shaking. I backed up against the wall, suddenly feeling so small. The deafeningly loud footsteps of the gunmen could be heard, loud and demanding in their quest for fear.

I was like an animal. Cornered, defenseless, utterly and totally helpless.

But Heero was too busy tearing off a vent cover to a duct to waste time answering my question. I turned to face him just in time to see the metal door clang against the floor, turning over a couple times in impact.

My eyes must have asked a question, for he said quickly, looking over to me, ?You?ll fit.?

?COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!?

Before another word was lost between us, Heero had taken hold of my wrist already and had pushed me in the direction of the duct. I hesitated, and then realized that I didn?t really have any other choice, and, stepping on a couple cardboard boxes as if they were steps, pulled my body into the small crevice.

?COME OUT IMMEDIATELY WITH YOUR HANDS UP! THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING!?

The darkness of the shaft was astounding, and somewhat imposing, but I pushed that aside and began to crawl on my hands and knees forward. After going a little ways I heard the shuffling that meant that Heero had pulled himself in as well, and a small clamping sound as he fixed the door back on.

They would never know where we had gone. It would be as if we disappeared.

There was the rapid sound of firing gunshots, and a last yell of, ?PUT YOUR HANDS UP!? I glanced back for a moment, seeing Heero coming towards me, as well as a large explosion in the room we had left behind. There were a few last licks of flame set against the bars of the door, and then nothing besides empty air.

We had just made it.

I must have been staring because before I knew it Heero was right at my back. ?Go on,? He said in a harsh whisper, and I began to do as directed.

It had all been my fault. If I hadn?t insisted on coming here, I wouldn?t have knocked over the television. It was all my fault. They were right all along, it wasn?t my job, and it sure as hell wasn?t my place. What was I doing?

Silence lapsed between us, once again a true torture in more ways then one. The panic that had consumed me before was calming, a fact that I took much comfort from, as well as wisdom. It cleared my head, simply, and allowed me to focus. I could not, could not afford at all, to lapse into the blinding panic I had momentarily been in while running in the halls.

Logic. It would be, once again, my greatest tool and asset. I had to think, had to focus.

And all the while we proceeded to go forward in the shaft, having no idea where we were going. At least, I had no idea where we were going.

The shaft was long, and had the feeling of going on forever and having no end. It would have been eerily dark were it not for the side ducts underneath us, through which light came through, oddly lighting up Heero?s face every time I turned to look at him on a whim. He seemed?strangely?holy. When the light hit him right.

After thinking for a long few minutes, I asked, coughing at first, since there was a thick soot around us, ?Where are we going? Do you know??

I wasn?t sure if he heard me, for he took long to answer. At length though, he did answer, and answered rather well. ?I know everything about this building. We should enter an empty storage room soon.?

I nodded, even though he could probably not see my gesture. After hesitating, I then said, not quite sure why I said it, ?I?m sorry.?

?We will be all right. But we will have to abandon the mission.?

I smiled, a quirky thing that seemed rather immature under the circumstances. ?This is the first time you?ve failed a mission, huh??

?No.?

That was something I didn?t know. ?Oh. I thought??

?The other time,? He said, saying it almost wonderingly, like he marveled at it and didn?t understand it, ?The mission was to kill you.?

Well. I just seemed to always be messing up his things, didn?t I? Yet, somehow I wasn?t insulted, but rather complimented, and I knew that he had meant it to be a compliment. For a moment I was just completely struck by the absurdness of the entire situation. Heero, I realized, did not want to have this heart of steel. He partially knew he didn?t want this. So why couldn?t he get rid of it?

Because things can never be that simple.

?I seem to be a menace.?

A hesitation, and then, ?Not exactly.?

Finally we came to the right side duct. I sat aside from it, cross-legged, watching carefully as Heero, to my amazement, used those strong fingers of his to pry the door off. Then he waved his hand first to me, and then the opening. The light was hitting him in that holy fashion again.

Almost comically, he was saying in that odd body language of his that I was to go first. Ladies first. So, gulping, I swallowed my fear and, gently, put myself through and let myself down, feeling a wave of gratitude as my feet touched the floor.

I had just let go of the side duct when I felt the impact on the side of my head and a sudden rush of blood to my head, dizzying me and making everything out of me blur out-of-focus and then go entirely black.

The next thing I knew I was on the floor and there was a fight going on. Loud crashing sounds and periodical, vengeful cursing told me so, as well as two blurry forms wrestling each other on the ground.

And the last thing I saw was a vision of Heero?s blue eyes widened in horror. It seemed to me that they were reaching out to me, calling to me. But I could not reply.

No matter how hard I tried.




I dreamt.

There was a battle in space, and explosions were all around. They were horrid, the explosions, deafening, seen to me as occasional outbursts of fire snaking around soft hisses of golden glow. Snaking upwards ? oh, snaking so smoothly upward! ? like they possessed themselves, a bewitching thought that no one in the battle completely comprehended or wished to even somewhat have a knowing of, a sweet, bittersweet then, knowing.

Then the cold-hearted warrior fell and let out a last desperate yell about life and heaven and earth and love and things up above and want and need and then life again and everything in-between. Lastly, he raised his eyes to the heavens and cried out about survival, his hardened voice lingering long on the last breezes of the dead black, to be carried as far as the unappreciative full moon.



The first thing I felt was the sharp way the ropes cut into me. Something was tight against my wrists, and also my ankles, something coarse and rough, holding me against a board or something of that sort. I attempted to move my one wrist forward, but found there to be an excruciating pain, and stopped.

As things slowly came into focus I saw that I was in a room, and, upon my glancing at my legs, found that I was tied tightly to a chair. A remote sort of fear, surprisingly gentle in the face of what I knew was happening, found it?s way to my gut. But, oddly enough, I was too busy being curious to be all that scared.

Yes, I was in a room, very small, and so white it was narrowly not nauseating. The blinding whiteness struck an ironic chord in me, for, simply, everything was white ? everything ? in the room, be it the walls, or the floor, or the door off to the corner, or the chair that I was tied to. Besides the walls and the floor and the door and the chair there was only one other thing in the room, a television, which was also blandly white, except for the black screen. The only thing not white was my dirty overalls and I, so that now I had the strangest sensation of dirtying this spotless place.

I looked all around, slowly starting to process the circumstances and wonder, wonder and ask questions that only helped to provoke more questions: Where the hell was I? Had I been caught? I must have. But then, where was Heero? Had they hurt him? Had they hurt me? Were they going to hurt him? Were they going to hurt me? Probably not, or the authorities would be on their back. Except?.

What if they were the authorities?

And what of my brother and Wufei? Were they all right? Perhaps they would barge in at any moment and there would be a rescue operation. But, I doubted it. Still, what was going on in the air? Was it endangering this fair city?

One of my questions was answered pretty quickly and much more efficiently than any of the others. Although it still made me wonder more, it was something exact, not a wonder like some of my other answers, which had been more like guesses in the dark. I had asked where Heero was, and there he was.

He was right beside me, tied to a chair as well. He was awake, I think, but if so, definitely daydreaming so much it passed for sleep. His eyes were open, staring sullenly at the floor, but such a dead expression lay in those blue orbs that I knew they were eyes unseeing, and that he was aware of nothing else but the tiled floor, white in all respects, so sickeningly white in all respects.

I stared at him, pondering deeply and contemplating our position of helplessness. Was it over now, was everything I had fought for over? I had been a fool, like Wufei had told me, a complete fool. And will peace be achieved if someone sees you, and informs the press? I do not think so. There will be chaos, chaos that you imposed, and Billington will have his chance, he had said, so passionately so, willing me helpless with those powerfully black eyes, willing his eyes to mine, like I had done to my brother in a desolate hall after the war, willed our eyes, oh, our eyes, so similar, so similar, willed our so similar eyes together, communicating the many desperate wishes for peace we mutually felt. And now the wishes, gone!

A soft wetness trailed down my cheek. At first I thought it was a tear, for I felt so much like crying, but when the small droplet of liquid finally rolled off my cheek and down onto my arm, I found that it was blood, my own blood. Remembering the glass from the window, I tried to rub it off on my shirt, but since my arm was so nearly immobile, I achieved only smearing my overalls with the dark red. My brother had said, he had told me, You cannot see, Relena, you cannot see the dark red. But I saw now, I saw how I was inadvertently placing the Earth in a position of war, and I saw the dark red that war would spurn, and it was resting on my own shirt.

?Yes. You are cut, Miss Peacecraft, but not too deeply. A simple band aid should work well.?

I turned to face the speaker, unbelieving, yet knowing that he would appear at some point or another. It was Billington, just as I had surmised. I had not seen him face-to-face for three weeks now, and I had tried not to look at the many posters he had pasted his attractive mug on. But here he was, wearing all white, spare a black tie, an outfit that no doubt was meant to seem imposing and gangster-ish, but to me it was only laughable: he was really outdoing the whole white scheme.

He rolled forward, green eyes laughing and his long black hair swishing with his every movement. I did a double take?he had rolled forward!

He was in a wheelchair, something that both astounded and confounded me, as I tried to put the pieces together?but still, why the hell would he be in a wheelchair?

For a moment he extended his hand, as if to greet me, but then lowered it, almost as if he had forgotten that I was bound, the corners of his mouth rising into a grin at his cold joke.

?I am fine.? I said defiantly. Then, after a moment of hesitation, I began, ?You are??

?In a wheelchair? Yes. I am paralyzed from the waist down.? Strangely, his grin widened, until he looked quite mad. Of course, he was, but it was scary when he seemed it. ?Never to walk again, my dear comrade.?

I said nothing, wondering, but not daring to ask. After a moment I summoned up the courage to glance at Heero, and did so, finding that he was staring straight ahead, so silent it was depressing. Would he say nothing at all? Sucking in air, and then releasing it in a long, tired sigh, I turned back to Billington, and said, ?I am sorry for you, Billington. But you must understand that it is entirely illegal to hold us here like this. I demand that you let us go at once.?

My words were empty, and I knew it. ?The last time I checked, it was illegal for Prime Foreign Ministers to sneak in with guns.? He returned levelly, and I hated him more than ever.

?Relena.?

I blinked, and then looked to Heero, both surprised that he had spoken and surprised at the attention that he granted me, for it was more focused and powerful than I had expected. He looked sideways at me, eyes dangerously attentive, and went on, ?Ask him about how he was paralyzed.? I must have had a particularly confused expression, because he added, ?He has already told me. Ask.?

I hesitated, and then turned back to Billington. ?Billington?how were you paralyzed??

At this the young man clapped his hands together, a thing that resonated throughout the room and chilled me to the bone. ?Ah! I was wondering when you would ask that. A disturbing thing it is, yes? But of course! There is nothing sadder, more pitiful, than a young man having lost his energetic youthful days. Oh, yes, to lose that unneeded mobility will earn me the support of millions, my dear comrade!? He could not have seemed much happier about his recent disability. Yes, he was as mad as a hatter.

?I am not your comrade. Stop saying that.?

He shrugged, shifting gears on the wheelchair to back up and then turn around. He held up his one hand, showing me a remote control in hand, and then, with a quick twirl, smacked his thumb on a button and lit up the television screen. I tried to get as comfortable in the chair as I possibly could, which was not very all comfortable at all.

The first image was that of Billington during one of his meetings, an angel in a business suit once more, standing fine and talking on in that persuasive way I had grown so accustomed to expect from him. He gestured expressively with his hands, as he boomed out, ?WE NEED TO UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF HONOR! Honor, my dear comrades will truly carry us in God?s arms??

He was the perfect preacher. This, I realized, must have been the religious part of his lectures, one of the less harmful aspects. So wonderful was he, with his sharp eyes and vivid movements, all of which just screamed intelligence. I resisted the temptation to nod along and agree with part of his sermon.

This was what I was up against. The ?kindest? soul, a man who just wanted to get recognized.

Then it happened.

I couldn?t believe it, but the camera does not lie, and the minute I saw it I knew it was as good as over. Forget peace. Forget justice, forget honor, just forget it all. There was no longer a chance for it, for it was me.

It was me, it was me who appeared suddenly on the screen, glaring so viciously at Billington that I was surprised daggers did not appear from my eyes and come right at Billington. All was silent, and Billington himself seemed to suddenly have an expression of acute fear, for he took a step back.

It had to be me, even though I had never ever been such a place. But it was I in the overalls, I with the scratched face, I with my hair stringy and barely kept in its loose bun.

Whether or not my eyes shot daggers didn?t matter, because I already had a gun to do the job. And I used it, pulling it out and firing it with a loud blast that echoed throughout the auditorium. Billington fell to his knees, and gripped his sides, rich dark blood pouring staining the stage.

Dark red. Dark red that I could not see, that I was so good at not seeing, my god!

The crowd screamed, and then Billington ended the tape, the screen darkening. It did not matter though, for I could still see myself on the stage, possessed with an anger I had never known, and the raising of the gun, and then the final firing.

?It is on its way to television stations all across the world at this very minute.? Billington said, turning back to me, grinning from ear-to-ear.

I did not reply.

Under the impact of the shot, Billington had fallen backwards two steps before collapsing to the floor and letting out the low, painful moan that sent the crowd into a panic.

[goddesswing]

Relena!! SHE shot him??? How-how could she?? GO RELENA!!!!!!!!! ^^;; Err... well it might not be too wonderful that she shot him after the whole world finds out about it... I need to know what happens... NOW!!! This story is going REALLY WELL!!! It portrays Relena in such a way that makes you really think about who she really is.
+::goddesswing::+

[Tsukiyo]

O_O oh my....so very twisted. and so very good at the same time. i'm running out of comments, Desert Bloom. It's very good and you know that. and the plot is good as well. And i love Wufei in this even more than i already do. PLEASE CONTINUE!!! PLEASE!! ::kissing your feet and hugging your ankles::

~Tsukiyo

[blackrose]

OOOOh, interesting... Relena, you are a menace. But Heero, Heero, Heero, how could you lead her into their trap??? >_<


~Rose