Moonchild
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing, or its characters and their likenesses, those belong to Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I don’t own the song “Moonchild” ,it is by Chibo Mato, and can be found on the album “Stereotype A”, which is a damn good buy. This is also, I think, pretty depressing. Don’t read it on a bad day. That being said, I shall proceed with the fic.
Moonchild
by
Rekka
//Moonchild still lives in my heart.
Can I ask you something?
Is your life better now?//
“Zechs Marquise died last week in combat, at the age of nineteen. He led a distinguished military career, being the first in his class at the Lake Victoria Military Academy and earning a two rank promotion for his excellent service. He is survived by his sister Relena Peacecraft. A memorial service will be held at the St. Francis Catholic Church in New Berlin at one o’ clock pm on Saturday, January 2. ‘May God forgive our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against ourselves”
Laughing slightly and somewhat bitterly, Zechs put down the newspaper. It was an odd experience, to read his own obituary. Noin had clearly thrown something together at the last moment, but it had been eloquent in its own way. He ran a mostly bandaged hand over his face and felt a generous amount of stubble covering his chin. Shaving just hadn’t seemed worth the trouble lately. He had sudden visions of himself with a long beard, all from the neglect of personal hygiene. Treize would have laughed at that; he always did like his men clean-shaven.
Treize.
He shut his eyes and inhaled sharply; trying not to remember the war. War had taken everything from him, one way or the other. His parents, his home, his...Treize.
There had never been a time in his life without Treize. They had been introduced as children, become friends, and then as they grew older, their childhood friendship had grown into a deep love and respect for each other. Then Zechs had left Oz, and had shut a door on a chapter of their relationship. But it had always seemed that when the war was over, when all the dust had settled, and the people were happy again, he could go back and explain. Treize would have sat very quietly with one eyebrow raised, and then would have stood up and given the younger man a bear hug and stroked his hair.
“Milliardo,” he would have said, “Of course I forgive you, I love you.” But now instead of that, Treize’s charred remains were floating among the stars.
It was strange, Zechs thought, how something so complex, something so eternal as the human mind could be destroyed by a fire. Erased. Gone. Vanished forever. But Treize wasn’t here. That was proof that it could happen.
//Sometime I feel you’re sitting next to me
and listening to my stories.
Time always shows me it’s hard to understand
How to be myself.//
He woke up in his bed sometimes and would reach over to feel the warmth of Treize. As he did so, he would see the bandages on his hand. On a bad day, it would take until his hand hit the cold side of the bed to remember why they were there. When he had tried to kill himself on the last day of the war.
Gundam Epyon, what Treize had built for him, was stronger than anyone, including himself, had thought. The only injury he had sustained was a burn on his right hand, that had come from reaching for the superheated controls on the cockpit door, which had fused to the rest of the Gundam. It had taken two days to cut him out, and he had been carried by unknown men to an unknown hospital, severely dehydrated, malnourished, and with a third degree burn on his palm. He still didn’t know who had saved him. Sometimes he wished they hadn’t gone through the trouble.
Occasionally, even after feeling the cold bed, he would turn to tell Treize that he was in pain, so he could get breakfast in bed. After every battle wound that he had received, Treize had made him stay in bed for a week, so he could be pampered properly. It was a sight few people had every seen; Treize’s chestnut hair falling in his eyes, wearing a blue checkered apron and muttering to himself in German when the food turned out to be on the wrong side of well-done.
But after turning over and opening his mouth to speak, all he would see was moonlight slanting across the rumpled, empty sheets.
//Moonlight dries your tears,
Moonlight hides your fears.//
When that happened, he would usually cry. It was cathartic, and the truth was even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t have stopped himself. His long blonde hair would fall onto the empty side of the bed and he would sit hunched over, making small strangled noises, until finally the tears slowed, and he could bring them to a stop.
His old self, the soldier, would have been ashamed at this show of weakness. But he had changed when he heard Treize’s goodbye. And now he was afraid that there was no “other side” no heaven, no hell for his lover to wait for him. More and more, god seemed like an illusion, something that happened to other people. That was his fear. Death was the end. He missed Treize so much, and if he couldn’t see him again...
This thought usually grabbed his chest and made him sit bold upright, breathing heavily. Then, filled with a need to be somewhere, anywhere but here, he would run out of his rented beach house, and along the beach until the clenching in his chest subsided. In the morning, he would walk wearily home through the sunlit waves and pick up the daily paper and smile at the neighbors. But nothing ever really changed. The feeling kept coming back, and all he could do was run from it.
//Sometime I feel you’re smiling at me
and telling me your memories.//
This time was different. He somehow knew it. He would wake up, and Treize would be there. Zechs smiled in anticipation, turned over, and opened his eyes. The bed was still cold and empty. He shook his head in confusion. This couldn’t be right. He got up, pulling on a pair of sweat pants as he went. He walked through the house, turning on all the lights and looking in all the rooms. They were all empty.
This isn’t funny, Treize.
He ran down the wooden catwalk onto the beach.
I know you’re here.
He sprinted across the beach, looking wildly in all directions as he went. All he heard was the sound of the waves hitting the sand. No one was here except for him. Zechs closed his eyes. He had been so sure that Treize was with him again, that he had been given back.
But he’s not coming back. Not ever.
Zechs sat down on the sand, and let the waves wash over his feet. He felt curiously empty as he waited for the sun to rise.
//Tide always moves fast
can you tell me how to find
words inside a shell?//
THE END
************************************************************************
send comments and criticism to Rekka420@aol.com
