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"Agglomeration"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: R Warnings: Mental illness, Dissociative Identity
Disorder, PTSD, Mentions of past child abuse (not Heero, or Relena),
Grief, Tragedy, Hurt/Comfort Pairings: Heero/Relena, Zechs/Noin Summary: Sometimes life only gives us a tiny window of time to love someone before it takes them away. Notes: Inspired by a conversation I had with @simulacraryn
which gave me the idea for this prompt. "Nothing More to Say" It was sort of common knowledge that Milliardo had a few screws loose. Relena just wished she’d known how bad it was. For the longest time, she’d always chocked his split personality up to an alter ego, nothing more. A disguise he used to protect the Peacecraft name and reputation. She should have known, even though Heero had repeatedly told her she couldn’t have. What was already the result of childhood trauma, a trauma she’d been mercifully spared being raised by the Darlians, was only intensified by the trauma of war. What she believed was something he was fully aware of turned out to be something he could not control. It wasn’t until Lucrezia phoned her in a panic, saying he’d taken off and she couldn’t find him that Relena realized how serious the situation was. Lucrezia informed her that he’d been behaving erratically, like an Epyon-induced Zechs Merquise, not her husband, Milliardo. Thankfully, Heero was an adept tracker and he pinpointed Milliardo’s location near the Franklin Bridge just outside of town. It was with hearts plunged in icy terror that they took off for the bridge, the fear that he would have jumped before they even got there, unspoken, but in the forefront of all their minds. Relena focused on comforting Lucrezia while Heero broke every traffic law trying to get to his brother-in-law. To their relief, he hadn’t jumped, but to their despair, they found him pacing, naked in the snow covered banks near the entrance of the bridge. He was babbling incoherently, his eyes unseeing and unable to recognize them when they approached. Lucrezia tried to reach him, to get him to come to her and instead of responding to his wife, he jumped back, paranoia in every angle of his body. He shouted at them to stay back, threatening to jump if they came any closer. It took Heero disappearing off to the side and sneaking up behind him, immobilizing him with strong arms. It was a popular restraining method used among law enforcement, reserved for those who posed a danger to themselves, or others. Something he was accustomed to doing as a Preventer. He successfully subdued the unstable man and they were able to get him into the car and take him to a hospital. Milliardo was instantly evaluated and admitted when the doctors discovered the state he was in and quickly reserved him a bed in a psychiatric facility fifty miles away. He was sedated while they prepped him for transfer. His family spoke to him with gentle, reassuring tones as he drifted in and out of consciousness, strapped to the gurney with heavy restraints. Lucrezia begged them to allow her to travel with him in the back of the ambulance, but the doctors refused, citing the dangers. She rode with Heero and Relena to the psychiatric hospital in silence, tears streaming down her cheeks. Relena sat in the backseat with her and held her hand. She had no words of comfort, or reassurance. It was probably a blessing because she had the feeling that Lucrezia was not in the mood to hear false proclivities about how he would be fine. There was an ominous sense that things would not be fine, though Relena tried to keep her thoughts optimistic. She could feel that same sense of doom coming from her husband and it was confirmed when their eyes met in the rear view mirror. Heero’s eyes were dark, somber, and filled with resigned worry. Relena had the suspicion that what ever was going on with her brother had been going on much longer than she realized though she didn’t question Lucrezia about it. It wasn’t the time. The head psychiatrist approached them a couple of hours after their arrival. He’d surmised upon his examination that Milliardo was suffering from a severe case of PTSD and Pathological Dissociative Identity Disorder. His ability to stay in touch with reality was disintegrating rapidly and unless they were able to effectively treat the condition, Milliardo would continue to deteriorate. The problem was, conditions like this, especially in severe cases like Milliardo’s, did not have a good prognosis. The doctor told them it was always good to have hope, to keep the faith, but that they needed to be realistic. In nearly one hundred percent of cases, the patient wound up living the remainder of their life in an institution. He reassured them they would do what they could, but not to get their hopes too high. Lucrezia went into hysterics, screaming and shoving at the doctor, cursing him to every level of Hell. She cursed Milliardo, she cursed herself for not getting him help sooner, she cursed the war, and she cursed Relena’s birth parents for the abuse they’d inflicted on him. She collapsed after she’d gotten most of the rage out of her system and Relena held her as she wept through her grief, great gasping sobs that tore at her heart. The doctor offered Lucrezia a shot of Valium and Relena advised her to take it, which she did reluctantly. They left a short time later. The ride home was quiet, the mood grave. Lucrezia was asleep in the back. She would be staying with them for a while. Relena stared out the window, watching the dark outline of trees against the night sky, feeling utterly gutted. She’d just gotten her brother back. Had just started to get to know him and now she was losing him again. He would never be what he could have been, should have been. “Hey.” She glanced over when gentle fingers tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Heero’s expression was sad, concerned for her and Lucrezia. She tried for a smile and grasped his hand, kissing his knuckles, so glad he was there. Her love, her rock, her shelter. “I’m okay.” He squeezed her fingers, his hand warm and strong, comforting. “We’ll get through this. Don’t lose hope. There’s always hope.” Relena didn’t say it, but in this case, she didn’t believe there was. It was just the way of things. Sometimes life gave you a taste of joy before cruelly snatching it away. She supposed she should have been grateful that she’d had him in her life, no matter how briefly. It was better than nothing. But she couldn’t deny she was bitter. Angry. For herself, for Lucrezia, for her brother. The life he should have lived, pulled out from beneath him like a rug. It was so unfair. So goddamn unfair. She didn’t pray. There was no point. After everything she’d seen, everything she’d been through, she knew there was no one there to listen, to answer. Life was just cruel. It was just the way it was. She pressed her lips together and turned back to the window. There was really nothing more to say.
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