Brekke lay on her side, staring out the tall glass windows of her room. The sky turned from black to blue to a deep red as the day slowly began.
Two months. she thought. It’s been two months today. And she sighed. She would not be getting up today. Two months…since Trowa’s death. It was hard to believe that two months ago, Heero had returned from his mission to capture Quatre, looked her grimly in the eye and and told her that Trowa would not be coming back.
It didn’t feel like it had been that long. Some days it seemed like yesterday, other times it felt like an eternity ago. But a little under eight weeks? This must be what they meant by ‘time is relative’. She felt cold and hollow, and suffocatingly alone. She nuzzled down deeper into her bedding let her mind drift a little. Memories swirled in her head, clouded and clear, bright and dismal. Everything that she’d been suppressing in the back of her mind surfaced, leaking out of their prison like blood from an open wound.
Trowa was in trouble and he knew it. Even for a Gundam, these were alot of suits to have to fend off, and they were well organized. HeavyArms was running out of ammo too, and fast. He was trying to lure them in one or two at a time so he could use his knife instead, but they were beginning to catch on. Angry at himself, he was beginning to fight recklessly, firing at anything in sight. Suddenly, a missile launched out of the smoke obscuring his view, and hit HeavyArms in the right leg. His suit fell to one knee, and the controls crackled with electricity for a moment before it stopped functioning. The motion jerked him to the side, and he cracked his head on a panel of metal.
“Damn!” he swore. “This is Trowa. My mission is complete, but the enemy has taken the upper hand. Right side non-functional.” he reported. He raised his gun, the only thing that still had any bullets left, and fired at anything he could glimpse through the smoke. Then, a dark form materialized in front of him and he realized it was headed right at him.
“DAMN!” he repeated, aiming his rifle straight for the oncoming mobile suit. But it didn’t look like an Oz model, and his bullets were doing little more than ricocheting of its body. Suddenly, a face came up on his communication screen.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the pilot demanded, a female judging by the sound of her voice. “Do I look like an enemy to you?! I’m trying to help you!” And with that she blinked out. True to her word, she continued to advance till she reached him and the smoke had somewhat cleared. The number of enemy suits had considerably lessened, and he realized that the girl had probably destroyed them before she had reached him. He heard the staticky voices of the Oz soldiers as they took in the scene before them.
“Where the hell did that other suit come from?!”
“Aggh, retreat!!! It’s another Gundam!
“Another Gundam?!”
“Retreat, retreat!”
The remaining Oz suits fled, none willing to die needlessly fighting an enemy they were sure to loose against. The other Gundam turned so that it was facing him, then froze as the pilot shut it down and came out of the cockpit. She jumped onto HeavyArms, pulled the slightly ajar hatch open, and helped Trowa out. She gently turned his head and studied the side of his face. He raised his hand to his temple and felt the sticky, warm blood gummed through his hair. He closed his eyes a moment to clear the floating black spots out of his vision, then glanced to the girl.
“You alright?” she asked. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get here in time.” She pulled her helmet off and set it at her feet. “Here, I’d sit down if I were you. It looks like you’re going to pass out. I wouldn’t want to have saved you from Oz just so you can break your neck in a tumble off your Gundam.”
“I fine.” he said. He eyed her and her suit. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Brekke.” she said simply. She wadded up a piece of cloth and soaked it with water from her canteen. She pressed it against his head wound. “And you?”
“You can call me Trowa.” he said. He watched her suspiciously, but then reasoned that if she had been an enemy, she wouldn’t have bothered to save him in the first place. Even though, he took the cloth from her and held it himself.
“Well, Trowa, looks like you hit your head pretty hard. I’d bet you have a concussion.” She sat on the edge of his hatch and he sank down next to her. The cool cloth felt good and eased the angry throbbing of the cut.
“Where do you get that mobile suit?” he asked, glancing up at her Gundam. It was painted mainly green, and had large wings on the back vaguely shaped like an angel’s. She glanced proudly at it for a moment, then grinned at him.
“From the same people you got yours from, silly.” she said. “I’m a Gundam pilot, just like you.” He stared at her. He couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that she was a girl. A girl. In a Gundam.
“You’re a Gundam pilot?” he repeated numbly. She nodded in exasperation. Boys never listened. “A girl. Who’d have thought?” he mused. She gave him a sly look.
“It’s that exact attitude that makes me such a good weapon.” she told him. “Everyone underestimates me. It gives me the advantage.” He smiled, seeing her point.
“Thank you, for…saving me.” he said finally. She smiled back pleasantly.
“No problem. It’s my job.”
Brekke sighed again and shifted in her bed, wiping her face dry. She could still feel the frustration she’d felt when the very person she was trying to save started firing at her. She could remember her worry as she studied the deep gash in his scalp and watched his eyes cross a few times before they focused. She remembered how self assured he’d seemed, and how his sharp green eyes seemed to take in everything around him, yet gave nothing away. She could still feel her nerves flare when she touched him and recall her thoughts on how he was a rather attractive young man. She could still hear his voice. God, she missed him. It hurt so much and she couldn’t seem to move past it. She tried to calm herself, but the action only drowned her in another memory.
Since the first time they’d met, they’d encountered each other on several more missions. She respected his actions, never interfering unless his life hung in the balance. He found himself thinking about her frequently when he was alone, and it shocked him. He tried to stop, but somehow she seemed to slip into his mind, like smoke through a keyhole.
She, too, could not get the quiet boy out of her head. She was much more open to it, allowing herself to indulge in thinking about him when she was free for a moment or two. She longed to speak with him again, but it was not a decision left up to her, and she had to put off the idea.
She finally got her wish, but not in a way that either of them expected. Her mission had been to terminate a particular base preparing to attack the Gundams. She had done well destroying the base, but there had been more soldiers than she had anticipated, and their battle formations were more than one lone mobile suit could take on, even if it was a Gundam. She was out of ammo and her fuel was beginning to run out. She fought them off in hand to hand combat but once they discovered that they could attack her in more than one suit at a time, she would be in trouble. Too soon. She was dying much too soon in the game, but what could she do?
“Forgive me.” she whispered. “I didn’t protect them long enough, did I.” She sighed, then squared her shoulders in new resolve. “Well, if I’m going to go down, I might as well go down fighting.” she muttered. She raised her Gundam’s double bladed light saber and prepared to face her enemy. They were gone. She stepped back, startled. The three suits that had been in front of her just seconds ago were gone. “Wha…? Where did they go…?” she gasped.
“Get out of their formation while you still have time!” Trowa’s face came up on her communication screen. “Don’t worry, I’ll cover you. The east sector is clear. Use that as a escape route, through the forest. There’s a lake about 15 miles north of here. I’ll meet you there. Now go!” The screen vanished, and she finally saw HeavyArms raise it’s rifle and take out several Leos trying to block the way he had just cleared.
“Trowa,” she said over her CB, “I could kiss you!” Without further stalling, she transformed her Gundam into a cruiser and shot off through the smoke. When he reached the lake she was sprawled in the grass, staring up at the sky. She did not move as he landed his Gundam and hopped down out of it, walking over to her.
“Thank you, for saving me.” she said, watching a cloud drift lazily across the sky. He paused.
“You’re welcome.” he said finally. “Are you alright?” She nodded.
“I’m fine, thank you.” He walked over and sat down in the grass next to her, glancing up at the sky to see what she found so fascinating. She said nothing more.
“We’re even now.” he said finally. She glanced at him, not understanding. “We’re even. You saved my life once. Now I’ve saved yours. We don’t owe each other anything.” he explained. “You don’t have to risk yourself for my sake anymore.”
“Oh, Trowa, if you only knew.” she murmured to herself. He heard the comment and gave her an odd look, but did not pursue it. It had clearly been a personal thought and he would respect her privacy. He studied her out of the corner of his eye. He saw things in the lines of her figure and the features of her face. He saw her strength, and grace. He sensed a wistfulness in her eyes, and a hidden pain. He noticed the glint of mischief and the weight of a wisdom earned early in her expression. He wanted to know more about her, where she came from, why she was fighting, why she had saved his life. But she volunteered nothing, and he would ask of her no question he would not answer himself. He shook his head. Too many secrets. He had the sudden impulse to let go, to tell her everything about him kept locked inside, even if it was only for the simple reason of needing to empty his emotions out. But he checked it immediately. He didn’t know this girl. He only thought he did, because he thought about her so frequently. She might not understand. She might tell… He squashed the thoughts. This was nothing he wanted to think about. It was the silence. He needed to break it, so he could fracture his thoughts. He stumbled for something to say.
“Y-you owe me a kiss.” he said suddenly. He froze. He had not really said that out loud, had he? He bit his lip and cursed himself for a fool. Damn him and damn her for making him feel this way. The worst part was that he wanted it. He really did. Well, Heero had told him to act on his emotions, and this is where it got him..
Brekke had sat up, and she was staring at him.
“Huh?” she asked, clearly stunned. He forced himself to calm down, to fight the blood he felt rushing to his face. He would not make any bigger a fool out him than he already had.
“Never mind.” he said, regaining his composure. He took a deep breath and smiled inwardly. Calm. He was calm. Brekke smiled to herself, and leaned over to him. Her lips grazed his cheek. He glanced at her, startled. She smiled back innocently.
“Is that what you meant?” she asked. For some inane reason, he felt himself smile. Her playful attitude was infectious. She had somehow overlooked his awkwardness, and seen the truth in his stammered replies and introverted expression. He realized what he had been trying to hide from himself for the past week. He was falling in love with her.
“No.” he said calmly, discarding his apprehension. “This is what I meant.” And he leaned over and pressed his mouth against hers. He caught her by surprise, and it took her a moment to respond. Despite his frequent cool demeanor, his lips were soft and warm, and he gently raised his hand to her cheek. He leaned back slowly, searching her eyes. They were as unreadable as ever. She was regarding him quietly. Suddenly he felt awkward again. He glanced forward, towards the lake.
"I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” he said. “That wasn’t my intent.” Her sudden laugh startled him. He looked back to her. She was smiling sincerely at him.
“Are you so afraid of your feelings, Trowa?” she asked. “Even soldiers can fall in love. Even,” she added with a grin, “Gundam pilots.” He felt his own smile spreading across his face and laughed too. Her slender fingers laced between his, and they sat in a comfortable silence, staring out over the lake.
Brekke buried her face in her pillow to muffle her sobs. She had never known a simple thought could be so painful. God, she missed him. Her hand closed around something hard and she drug it out. An unopened bottle of vodka. She unscrewed the cap and downed several large swigs. She wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand. If she found out, Relena would be furious, but it had been a good two or three weeks since she had gotten thoroughly sloshed and she was about due. Besides, she had a sinking feeling that she would not want to remember anything about this day. Better no memory and a headache than the heartache she was feeling. She took another good swallow and set the bottle on her nightstand, where she could reach it easily. Then she flopped over onto her back and reached for the slightly rumpled photo next to the bottle.
Despite how horrible she felt, the photo made her smile. She wiped her eyes and stared at it. It had taken her nearly fifteen minutes to talk the boy into letting her take his picture. They had been waiting for a mission in a city, and had wandered downtown to kill some time together. She sighed and set the picture back down. She didn’t want to get it soggy, and with the way she was crying she was afraid she would do just that. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep.
When her missions did not take her elsewhere, Brekke shadowed Trowa’s movements. She would stay with him while he was alone and fade into the shadows when he was not. She kept herself secret from the rest of the world as she had been ordered, and if the scientists had a problem with her and Trowa…well she would have no problem telling them where exactly they could go. They owed her something, anyway. But then…they were separated. Ripped apart from each other. She was forced to outer space, with no idea of where Trowa was. She searched vainly for him, recklessly at times. The scientists were gone; captured, she heard. The base on which they had lived was destroyed, and that left her with nowhere to return to. She was homeless, again. Alone, again. And then she became hunted. Oz searched for her, and they were harder to kill with every attack. They were learning. She was forced into hiding. And then, she found him, under the most unpredictable circumstances. She was captured, and reunited with him in the midst of their enemy, dressed as their enemy.
“I have to go soon.” he said, helping her up. She sighed.
“Already?” she asked. She took his hand and slowly strayed over to the door with him. He turned around and faced her, leaning down. She tilted her face up and he pressed his mouth against hers. His arms slid around her as her own tangled about his neck. He tongue slid gently into her mouth and she met it with her own, kissing him passionately. They stood twined together for a long moment before he slowly pushed her away. She clung to his hand as he walked out, then reluctantly withdrew it as the door slid shut between them. She stood up on tiptoe to watch him leave and he kissed her through the slat one more time before he left. Even after the echo of his footsteps faded, she stood leaning heavily on the door, eyes downcast. She sat, back against the door, and fell asleep there.
The next morning he came for Heero, and it was the last time that she had ever seen Trowa again.
Tears stung the red skin around her eyes were she had rubbed it raw. It was the last time she’d seen him, then he was violently ripped away from her and she was, once again, left utterly alone. She downed some more vodka. Fire ran through her veins as the liquor worked its way down to her stomach. With any luck, she would not be able to remember any of this tomorrow afternoon. The sun was fully up and she hated it. She felt too miserable for a day like this. She wondered vaguely if anyone would come and check on her. She didn’t doubt that someone would. Relena, most likely. She would worry when the dark haired girl did not show up for classes. So would Quatre, for that matter. Heero would probably think she was out on some secret mission and invariably try to intercept her. Even Noin would think she was up to something. Well, she wasn’t. She was laying in this damn bed, rotting from the inside out. She had all but stopped eating since Trowa’s death and she was dangerously thin, as Heero had pointed out. She just hadn’t had much appetite. She at least made sure she ate once a day, even if it was only a piece of toast or half an apple. The infrequent times that she had completely trashed herself were not helping matters either. Brekke miserably curled up into a fetal position under her covers and wished that she was dead.
A while later she woke up in silence and lay still, her thoughts numb. She heard muffled voiced begin to make their way down the hall and strained her eyes to make them out. Heero and Quatre. She remained with her back to the door, silent as ever. So they were finally coming to see what was up, eh? Her door swung open and the two boys entered the room.
“Is she asleep?’ Quatre whispered nervously. Heero listened quietly for a moment.
“No. Her breathing pattern is erratic. She’s awake.” he said. Brekke couldn’t help a wry smile to herself. Good ol’ Heero. He was a sharp one, she had to admit. Quatre approached her bed slowly and edged around till he was sitting on the same side she was facing. She made no sign that she knew he was there. Heero followed him and and stood facing her.
“Brekke,” Quatre asked softly, “what’s wrong?” She stared moodily straight ahead. “Brekke, you can tell me.” he persisted. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything.” she whispered. Heero pondered her despondent answer and glanced to her nightstand, taking in the bottle of vodka and the slightly rumpled picture of Trowa.
“You’re drunk.” he stated.
“Excellent observation, Heero.” she told him flatly.
“This isn’t doing you any good.” he said.
“Fuck you.” she answered. Quatre blinked at her choice of words, them shrugged them off.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
“Yeah. Bring Trowa back.” she mumbled bluntly. Quatre winced.
“It is all my fault. I feel so responsible.” he whispered sadly. Brekke sat up and looped her arms around her knees. She sighed.
“Quatre, I don’t blame you.” she told him. “But do either of you have any idea what it’s like to be so close to someone that the two of you become one person? And then, that person is ripped apart and suddenly you are only half a being alone to fend for yourself. And it happens before you even know what’s going on.” She stared vaguely at the floor, mentally somewhere else. “I had just found him again, and then he was gone, forever. And I’m here, empty and alone. What do I do now?” She wiped tears from her eyes. “You know, it’s been two months today. Two months since my reason for living was lost to me forever…”
Brekke was already out the door, running down the hall as the sounds of a battle echoed in the walls around her. She was not even sure if Duo and Wufei were still behind her. She was only intent on reaching her Gundam. She darted through the doorway, ready to fight. It was empty. She flung herself down the stairs and ran for Guardian. She was so thrilled to see her mobile suit again that she ran headlong into Heero. They staggered away from each other and focused their eyes.
“Get your Gundam and get out of here.” Heero told her. Brekke glanced around.
“Where’s Quatre?” she demanded.
“Fighting down the hall.” he said.
“Where’s Trowa?” she continued before he could keep moving. He looked at her and pressed his lips into a thin line. Then he stepped around her and tried to continue on his way. She blocked him stubbornly and clenched her fists.
“Where is Trowa?” she repeated. He moved to push her to the side but she caught his wrists and forced him to look her in the eyes.
“Brekke…” he growled warningly.
“Where is he, Heero?” she whispered desperately, her eyes narrowed. The knuckles clutching at his forearms were white and she was shaking involuntarily. But it wasn’t anger he saw in her glossy green eyes. It was fear. Stark terror.
She already knows what I’m going to tell her. he realized. She knew the instant I tried to avoid her. He hung his head a moment, then looked her straight in the eyes. He broke her hold and took her by the shoulders, though whether it was to keep her from running from him or to keep her from attacking him, no one knew.
“Brekke, listen to me. Trowa isn’t coming back.” he said as gently as he could. Her entire body went limp, her face, arms, and spine slack.
“W-what…?” she whispered brokenly. “What do you mean, he’s not coming back?”
“He was accidentally attacked by Quatre. He was ejected, unconscious, into the middle of a battle. Brekke, he’s gone. I’m sorry.” Heero told her. Her legs gave out, and taken by surprise, Heero caught her clumsily. Suddenly she was leaning against him, sobbing into his shoulder.
“No…no…no…no…no…no…” she moaned quietly. Awkwardly Heero rocked her a bit, then forced her to stand on her own and he wiped her eyes. She pleaded silently with him, her glossy eyes begging for him to tell her he was mistaken, that it was all wrong somehow.
“Brekke, get to your Gundam and get out of here.” he repeated, and gave her a shove to get her moving. He watched her run to her mobile suit and start it up, then he turned around and continued on with his ever important mission.
He’s gone…he’s gone…he’s gone…he’s gone…he’s gone…
Suddenly it was happening all over again. She was in Heero’s arms and she was sobbing, but this time Heero held her tightly and rocked her back and forth. Quatre stroked her hair. All her pain and anger, frustration and loneliness, poured out in that moment as her forehead rested securely on Heero’s shoulder. Eventually her sobs lessened and her tears thinned. She wiped her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” she whispered.
“Don’t worry about it.” Heero told her. He brushed stray curls out of her face and tucked them behind her ears. He didn’t know why he felt so compassionate towards the girl all of a sudden, but it felt like the right thing to do. He respected her as a Gundam pilot and as a human being, a friend. He could only guess at the pain she must be in to behave this way. She had earned this compassion from him, he rationalized. “Brekke, listen to me. You can’t sit here and let yourself waste away like this. You have to pull yourself together.” he told her, taking her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him, to pay attention to what he was saying. “This war isn’t over.”
“What are we fighting for, Heero?” she whispered, her eyes focused inward. He realized that she really didn’t know anymore, that she had lost hope in everything. His grip on her tightened. He couldn’t let her give up like this, he needed her still.
“You are fighting so that other people don’t have to go through what you are feeling right now.” he said. “So others don’t loose the ones that they love in these meaningless battles that we keep having to fight. We need you if we hope to end this Brekke. We can’t do it alone.” Quatre nodded.
“We need you, Brekke.” he repeated. “I need you. I need you to forgive me, and I need you to do it by getting up and fighting in Trowa’s place. I can never bring him back to you, and I can never ever express the guilt that I feel.” Quatre’s eyes watered. “But if I can help you in any way, at least it will begin to repair all the damage I’ve done. I’m sorry, Brekke. I’m so sorry.” She sighed and wiped his face clear of moisture.
“Oh, Quatre, please don’t cry. I think I’ve cried enough for everyone. It wasn’t you’re fault.” She hugged him and he gratefully returned the warm embrace. Heero smiled inwardly. They released each other and Brekke sighed again. “Thank you.” she whispered to both of them. Quatre smiled at her and Heero accepted the words with a slight nod. He studied her for a moment.
He had not really taken a good look at her since that night so long ago when she’d been thrown bruised and bleeding into his cell on the Oz spacecraft. For all intents and purposes, she looked worse. She had altogether stopped eating, and she couldn’t have weighed over 90 pounds. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, which were dull and flat and lifeless. None of her small smiles ever reached her eyes, and she was beginning to weaken. She looked like a walking corpse. But then, Heero mused, that was exactly how she felt. Her soul had died with Trowa.
“You need to get out of this room.” Heero told her. “Get up, get dressed, and for God’s sake, eat something. I don’t care if you don’t go to any of your classes today, but I don’t want to come back here and find you still laying in this bed.” He stood at picked up the vodka. “And I wouldn’t recommend any more of this either.” He slipped it into his pocket.
Quatre helped her stand, and she stumbled over to her dresser and pulled out clean clothes. She had a separate bathroom, unlike most of the rooms, and Heero turned on the shower for her as she chose her clothing. With another brief and lifeless smile, she took her clothes and shut the door to her bathroom behind her.
Heero listened for a moment, then motioned to Quatre. They left quietly. Once out in the hallway, Heero pulled out the alcohol and tossed the bottle out one of the open windows. He heard the glass shatter on the rocks below.
“She’s not any better, Heero.” Quatre whispered. “She may be up and moving around, but she’s still dying. We have to help her, for Trowa’s sake. For all of us really. We need her, as much as she needs us.”
“I know, Quatre.” Heero said calmly. “We’re doing all we can. We just have to hope it’s enough.”
Brekke let the hot water run over her body. She could smell the sweat and the alcohol, washed off her body and down the drain with the rest of the dirt and the grime and the saline of her tears. Her once rich and glossy curled were matted and dull, and she worked a generous helping of shampoo into them. Physical scum was not the only thing the hot water was carrying away; she felt the heavy film of grief and guilt and anger slowly chip off her heart. It still hurt inside, sometimes more than she could bear, but she could push it down, bury it in the back of her mind. She knew it would never go away.
I’m never going to get over this because this is something that a person just doesn’t get over. It’s always going to hurt. But I can move on. I have to. What was it that I told Heero? ‘You’re too young to want to die. You have your whole life ahead of you. After this war is over you can still do something with yourself, because you still have time.’ And that goes for me too. I’m too young to just give up on life just yet. You understand, don’t you Trowa? She smiled. Of course you do. That’s why I loved you, you always understood me, and on the rare occasions you didn’t, you were content to just accept me. Well, today I move on, because I can’t live like this anymore. This isn’t even living. Hell, it isn’t even surviving. I’m never going to stop loving you, Trowa, and I will never, ever forget you. But I have to try life without you. And with that, she returned to the world of the living.
