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"Alternative Directions: Options "Written By: Karina Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the lovely
boys and their girls in the series. Wish I did. Please don't sue me.
I haven't even got a brass razoo to give you. Rating: Deffinately PG in Australia, at the moment,
but probably safer to say R for later chapters. Not sure about international
ratings Warnings: It will be 6x2, even though it does
not start out that way. After all, Zechs and Duo never met in Gundam
Wing and only spoke briefly over a com line in Endless Waltz. I've
tried to keep them in character as I saw them in the series. A bit
of language creeping in under stressful conditions. Pairings: eventual 6x2, past 2xH, 2+H,6x9, 1+R
Summary: Directions is set post Endless Waltz
and roughly 2 years have passed. Zechs and Noin are on Mars and Duo,
after spending some time with Hilde in a relationship leaves L2 to
join Preventers. Hilde was not happy about his decision. I guess enough
said. Here t'is, and I hope you like it. This is also AU for the standard
setting, as well as the series and Endless Waltz. Spoilers: Gundam Wing Series and Endless Waltz Many thanks to Dulin for volunteering to beta this. //... // thoughts
"Alternative Directions: Options"
Chapter 111 Mars Colony Base Dome 2nd March AC 198 Time: 00: 46 [approx Sanc time 22:36] Giles // Dead. He's … he's dead. …” The silence was oppressive, all encompassing, somehow otherworldly. His eyes saw what lay before him, his mind registered what he saw but still it did not seem real. Foremost what was wrong was that the body lying on the floor was not his own. //I … I should be dead. Jesus. I should be dead.// Time seemed almost frozen. Sluggish. Nothing was real. Nothing seemed to have that cold crystal clarity that he associated with undesirable happenings that could not be changed. There was death here, he knew that, but it seemed unreal. Nor did it seem possible that the blonde who knelt on the floor, head lowered, one hand wrapped tightly about the whip could be real. No, the corpse that sprawled against the wall was not real. The blood pooling about the crushed head of the man was not real. Surely it was not reality that there was a blood smear on the wall where the man had hit hard and broken his skull, the impact cracking his neck as though it was a twig. Nothing was real. Not his life. Not the blonde. Not the corpse. Not even the surgeon frozen further down the hallway standing in a doorway or the impossibly wide eyes of the man that showed his horror. // I should be dead. // Dimly there was the awareness that he was going to have to get past that reaction and begin to function again. He was beginning to become tired of the litany. He needed to make an effort to stir himself, to wake up to the reality of what had happened and deal with it. One man of four in this hallway was dead, that was the truth and it was also truth that that one man was not he, Haydon Giles. That was the point from which he needed to begin to function. One dead, three alive or he hoped it was three alive. Zechs had not yet moved. //So move and check him for wounds, damn it!// His limbs seemed paralysed, stiffened unnaturally into immobility. There was still something 'odd' about the hallway but he could not put his finger on what the oddity was. It seemed almost unnatural, but that was sheer stupidity, fantasy. He had to move. He had to function. He had to ascertain that there were no others lurking here who would be just as willing to kill as this dead man had been mere seconds ago. In his hesitation, in this strange reluctance of his body to move there might be one or more opportunities for him to die. Movement was good and if he could just make himself take that initial step then he knew the world would return to normal and with it his thought processes and reactions. If he could just move even one of his little fingers it would be enough to break the stasis that held him. Or if that man down the hall who stared in blank astonishment would move it would break the tableau and enable him to move, but the best scenario would have to be if Zechs would move. Just a little twitch to let him know that he was alive would be sufficient. Something changed. Some subtle shift that he did not pick up on consciously. He blinked and that motion, a simple blink brought the hallway into clearer focus. He could feel the blood rushing within his veins, the thunderous beat that was his own heart, the tiny electrical impulses that marked his nerves. Life. It all meant life and with that recognition there was another shift in his perceptions. There was a gun on the floor in the hallway where it had undoubtedly been dropped by the man when he had become desperate to get the leather of the lash from about his throat. He had not noticed that there before. His impressions were sorting themselves out at least while his body still trembled uselessly against the wall. There was the gun, near the door where the assassin had stood, the gun and the silencer still attached lying on the floor, glistening in the red of the emergency lights. Red. Red like blood. Too fast. Impossibly fast. That was what had to be freezing him here to the spot. The hideous realization that it had happened so fast. Life and death was like that. One had turned to the other in that miniscule flutter that was the blink of an eyelid and there was nothing one could do about it. In that instant his life should have become death before he even was aware of the danger he was in from the killer and instead by some strange warp of space and time he was the one who was alive and breathing and the victim was instead the one who would have been his killer. //Zechs … knew?// That staggered thought seemed to release a dam of emotion. Reaction set in. A sickening surge deep in his gut clenched his vitals and threatened nausea and it was forced down ruthlessly as being useless to the current situation. He had already wasted too much time with staring at a corpse and convincing himself that he should be a dead man. He was alive and he should not ponder the reality of it when there were more important things to attend to. Yes, he was alive and he fully intended to stay that way, not like the fool dressed in the green scrubs of a surgeon who was running down the hallway toward them and was already extending an arm out toward the blonde. //Zechs will kill him. // The thought exploded in his mind and forced him to register the actions surrounding him and the needed actions to avoid further disaster. The surgeon was already more than half way to the blonde who was still down on his knees, head lowered almost to the floor and that wealth of platinum blonde silk in wild disarray, spilling over the floor. To his anxious examination he noted a barely discernable tremor shaking those broad shoulders and the fingers curled about the whip were white with the strain of his grip. That long, powerful body, even curled as it was screamed action waiting to happen and the fool running toward him seemed oblivious to his danger. “Stop.” the word emerged as a croak he could barely hear himself and he knew the man would never hear the warning and that certain knowledge forced him to move and function in a far more normal fashion if he wanted to save the idiot's life. “Stop! Back off if you value your life.” He ached. He was aware of the ache that seemed to originate deep within his bones that had not been there before he had been convinced he was to die. Where the pain came from he did not know but he had to ignore it and he staggered a step, steadying himself and forcing a measure of control. He could not afford to think too much now, not if they were to come out of this situation with the surgeon alive. The man hesitated mere feet from death, well within range of the whip should the wielder spring into action again. Could Zechs release the past victim fast enough to claim a new life? Considering the speed that Zechs had proven himself capable of using Giles was not inclined to take the chance. He staggered a step or two away from the wall, careful to make that movement at a sideways angle, away from the blonde who beyond that slight tremble had still not moved. That stillness was becoming worrying and he was not inclined to go near the man at this time. He motioned to the surgeon to back a few more steps, uncertain how far would be safe if the blonde should move to kill again. He would have said that the gunman was well out of range of any retaliation that might possibly have been offered before he had seen Zechs move. The whip he wielded was not the only weapon on the man as he had reclaimed his primitive but effective arsenal of knives, throwing daggers and Shuriken after cleaning up on the shuttle. He had already seen how effective Zechs was with the Shuriken and the surgeon was well within range if one of those lethal stars should be drawn against him. If the blonde could remove the whip from his victim then that weapon too was more than capable of taking down the man. “Stay back. Don't go near him until I am sure that he knows that you are not a threat.” His gut thankfully seemed to be settling somewhat and it was easier to talk now and move though the latter still had to be done with care to offer no possible threat to the man so close to him. At least the surgeon had the good sense to listen to his warnings and not to approach any closer though he was no longer backing away. “I have to get to him to check the severity of the wound.” Alarm bells began ringing in his mind and he fought down the extremely stupid and somewhat suicidal urge that wanted him to fling himself at Zechs to check to see if he had taken the bullet meant for him. Raydon was going to kill him in the most inventive and painful manner he could possibly devise if the blonde was hurt in any way and rightfully so. In this situation he was the man's bodyguard after all. He was supposed to be the protector not the protected and if the man had taken a bullet meant for him then there would be hell to pay in the future. “Wait.” he signaled the man to keep back. While as yet he did not dare approach the blonde too closely he carefully sidled around the kneeling man, trying to see any indication of a bleeding wound and hoping to judge the severity of that wound by the amount of blood loss. To his careful survey, slowly circling the blonde until he regained his former position and distance he discovered no sign of any possible damage suffered. // Considering the way Zechs is hunched in on himself I suppose it is no surprise that I can see no sign of a wound. He's starting to shake more noticeably though.// “You are sure that he was hit?” The surgeon took a step forward but Giles glared him into freezing again. “I … Yes. Yes, I think … I saw the impact. I saw the bullet impact in his upper left shoulder.” He hesitated, wondering if the man only thought he had witnessed such a wound. Surely there would have been a wealth of blood from damage incurred by such a wound and the man's voice sounded so uncertain at first but had firmed into certainty. Regardless of how positive the surgeon sounded he had to check. If Zechs needed surgery then he had to get him into care with all speed and devise some means to end this debacle without the assistance of the blonde. //Why did this have to happen when we were so close to finishing this entire mess? Just a couple of hours and we could have had it dealt with, maybe some evidence in hand as to who instigated the entire mess. // “Shit. Stay there until I can get some kind of a response out of him.” The surgeon took two steps forward but halted at the fierce intensity of the glare directed at him. He hesitated a moment, running a hand through his thick thatch of black hair before he made soothing motions with his free hand, mindful of the stress levels they all were under and the intolerance of hyper aware soldiers in such situations. “It's okay. I was a field surgeon during the war and I know enough to be careful around soldiers fresh from action. I assure you that I recognize him and that I know he is ex special forces. I have dealt with them before. Who are you?” // You've dealt with them before, have you? All well and good to say so but you have not dealt with Zechs Merquise before. Knowing what Special Forces are like and acting on that knowledge wisely are two different things. I swear that if you get any closer to him he will have you. // “Haydon Giles.” “Pleasure. I'm Charles Broadham, senior surgeon of the medical unit. I won't come closer for now but you will have to help me to assess the damage. Can you see an exit wound?” // Exit wound? Oh shit. If he was hit then the bullet must still … Christ. We don't need this shit now. // “No. No, there is no blood visible. No exit wound. Zechs?” he dared to edge closer, only a few inches at this time and not enough to be construed as a threat, careful to watch for any sign of a reaction that would send him scurrying out of range as quickly as he could. “Okay, that's not good. I really need to get close to him to ascertain how serious the damage is. Can you tell me what the hell has been going on around here? I've just finished surgery on Jenny Santos and I emerge into a war zone.” //Surgery on Santos? Zechs thought that would be long over. This is good news. It means that a lot of the medical staff must have been in the surgical unit until now. We may not have so many dead here as we thought at first.// “How much did you see?” Giles glanced at the man taking note of the sweat and stains on the surgical greens that backed up his story. //I don't think that you would be a Sleeper but … God. Who do we trust? When do we trust? // “I saw the door open and I saw a security guard with a gun and realized that he was aiming for you and then I saw Merquise …” he hesitated, staring in something akin to awe at the kneeling figure. “I saw Marquise take him down … in rather a spectacular fashion. God, the man is fast. I swear that I would not have thought he would have a chance of reaching the man, of succeeding in stopping him from killing in cold blood. I've heard about his reflexes before, but … but I never thought they could possibly move him like that. It looked as though he was moving before the man had even opened the door and aimed. For all the world it looked as though he knew someone was there and that they were a threat, but even so I'd not have taken the bet that he would be able to reach him.” his eyes drifted to the corpse for a moment and travelled back to rest on Giles. “At least it was a fast way to go. Can you tell me what the hell is going on? Why are the security guards trying to kill you?” //Security Guards?// he dropped his eyes again to the corpse, this time taking note of the uniform worn and winced. //Oh. He's … he's wearing …// “Long story, Doc. A very long story and just now we are running out of time. Simpson and his crony could be wandering around here somewhere and there may be more Sleepers.” “Simpson? Sleepers? What the hell have I been missing?” “ESUN Security Agency, Special Operations I think. Okay, explanation in brief because that is all the time that I can spare now. Agents arrived here on the orders of the ESUN government, some placed here over the last couple of years and others on the latest shuttle, to snatch Zechs and the twins from Mars. I gather they were to place them in security confinement God alone knows where.” The surgeons scowl deepened as he stared at the corpse. “Why bother? I would have thought that Mars is about as secure a place as you can get. Where the hell is there to go here beyond the two domes?” Giles blinked, somewhat surprised by that reaction and in the end shrugged, angling further around Zechs on a slower circuit, seeking some sign of a wound, some hint of blood. There was no blood on the flight suit that he could see and none on the floor where there surely would be some visible by this time. The wound should be bleeding profusely but there was no indication of injury, just that trembling. “We have had undercover agents of the ESUN with us for some time. Sleepers. They were activated when the attempt on Lucrezia Noin was bungled resulting in Jenny Santos being wounded. As near as we can figure their plans we, meaning the base personal, were to be considered expendable to cover the operation. At this time the base is littered with the dead they have slaughtered. The maintenance workers who were assigned outside the dome today have been locked out of the base. We have not found a way of getting them into the dome yet.” “God in Heaven.” the breath of a whisper and he moved a step back as Giles moved between him and the blonde crouched on the floor. “Most of the exterior workers must be dead now. They run short on oxygen as a rule.” “We have had some help from the Alpha dome.” at the hope that entered the mans eyes Giles sighed. “Don't get your hopes up there, Doc. They managed to get some emergency supplies to the crews but they have to stay the night outside in whatever shelter they can find.” “Mr. Merquise? Can you hear me?” the surgeon edged around Giles but refrained from coming closer to the blonde. “Mr. Merquise, I need to check your wound.” Silence. Giles sighed softly, running a hand over his chin as he considered the wisdom of approaching the man. He watched closely and his frown deepened as he realized that the tremble had not eased, indeed it appeared to have increased somewhat and that did not particularly inspire confidence. He recalled Zechs telling him that another instance of vision would take him out of the picture and he had been desperate to avoid just such an occurrence. //He was always incapacitated after vision visited him. That is what he said and I guess he was right. At this time that certainly is not good but I can't just stand here. I have to do something.// He glanced up from the blonde and surveyed the hallway, calling himself three times a fool for forgetting that it was possible that the man might not have been alone. His gaze settled on the door from which the killer had appeared and after an instants consideration he inclined his head toward the door. “Look, give me a couple of minutes to get through to Zechs, will you? I'll see if I can't answer more of your questions then but I really need to get through to him just now. Where does that door lead to?” he motioned to the door in question. If he could get the surgeon to leave them for even a couple of minutes he was sure that he could get through to his partner. The surgeon glanced at the partially open door . “The nurses lounge.” Giles blanched. “God, I hope it was empty.” he ignored the suddenly frightened look of the man close to him and flicked a finger toward the door. “You had better check on your people, Doctor. If there was anyone in the lounge I doubt that you can help them, but you had better find out for certain. The Sleepers strike to kill and I think they do not miss often. You had better check the lounge and I will try to handle Zechs.” “He is in shock, Mr. Giles. We need to get him to an examination room with all speed and initiate treatment before his condition deteriorates.” “I know he is in shock, Doc, but to touch him without taking precautions is just begging to be hurt. I know, after all I made that mistake a few hours ago. We have not had a good afternoon, Doc. Just give me some time to reach him and give him a few minutes to get his act together.” The surgeon sighed and nodded. “Very well, but don't take too long. I need to check him over to see how much damage that bullet did to him. It will require surgery if there is no exit wound and I need to begin a.s.a.p.” “I know. Go check on your people, Doc and let me handle Zechs. He trusts me.” //I just hope he trusts me enough.// The surgeon grunted and with a last look at the blonde he moved to the door and left Giles who sighed with relief. At least now that it was just he and Zechs he need not fear the surgeon would approach too close and set off the blonde. Something was wrong with Zechs and he was pretty sure that it had nothing to do with a bullet wound. That tremble was fast and regular and reminiscent of that instance when the blonde had nearly gone into convulsions near the Main Control Tower. That was clue enough without even considering that for Zechs to react as he had to the threat before it even materialized meant that this was the physical response to a Psi incident. //Damn it all to hell, what am I supposed to do? I know nothing of his talent or how to treat him. Ah, I should not complain, after all he saved my hide, but what the hell do I do if he has lost the plot? I know nothing of how he reacts normally to Psi incidents beyond him saying that they make him ill. A fairly standard reaction for some of the more intense talents I will admit but just about as clear as mud without the missing details to assist me in formulating treatment. It does not help that I am just not sure how much closer I dare get to him without him reacting in a violently manner.// Scrubbing at his face with trembling hands Giles considered the corpse lying close to the blonde. The Sleeper wore the uniform of the base security services and Giles thought he even recognized the man as a part of the shuttle bay staff. If he was right then this was one of the men who had hunted down and slaughtered the staff in the bays and Hawass would be delighted to learn that the man was dead. // I have to do something. I can't stay like this all night. Still experiencing vision? Might he be still locked into a vision sequence? It might explain why I have received no response from him, not even a grunt. God, I hope he can pull himself together from what ever he is experiencing. I have no facilities here that are Psi specialized to assist in orienting him back to this reality. It has to be a Psi related response. // “Zechs?” He knelt, daring to edging closer to the hunched form, glancing quickly around the hallway to make certain that he was alone. He did not need unexpected surprises setting off the blonde nor did he need another Sleeper to choose this time to attack them. From the open doorway through which the surgeon had departed he could hear soft oaths and knew with sinking dread that there were more dead in the lounge. It was a small and no doubt petty thought that at least he and Zechs could not be blamed for these dead. With the surgeon as witness to the incident in the hallway even the people who considered Zechs to be mad would have to admit that it had not been he who had slain those members of the base. They could be proven innocent of those killings, not that that would be likely to comfort Zechs. The man would simply look at him and turn away, perhaps even mutter something about why the killers had come to Mars in the first place and continued to take the blame for the killing. Sometimes he sincerely wanted to kick that man's toosh. “Zechs? Can you hear me?” Nothing. The trembling continued and there continued to be no indication of blood from an open wound. He did not know if that absence should worry him or not. The surgeon had said that he had witnessed the bullet hit the man so why was there no blood? Zechs did not seem to be hunched so tightly in on himself that he could place so much pressure on the wound to stop blood flow. About them the hallway remained silent and empty. “Zechs, is it okay if I touch you? It's Giles, Zechs. Can you hear me?” He focused intently on the man, seeking some small indication that he might have been heard and recognized. Was that a flicker of movement from the hand wrapped about the handle of the whip? Tense he waited a few precious seconds, uncertain if it was a sign of acceptance or just an involuntary movement, a muscular twitch driven by something other than conscious thought. Or perhaps the precursor to an attack. “Zechs? I have to touch you to see how badly wounded you are. Now you know that Raydon will have my sorry ass when he finds out you took a bullet meant for me, don't you? Of course you do, so you know that I have to check how bad the damage is.” Again no response. Not even a repeat of the spasmodic twitch of long fingers wrapped around thick leather. Resisting the urge to stand up and run as far and as fast as he could Giles edged closer, forcing himself to breathe slowly and steadily. He could not afford to make a single mistake at this time. Once already he had made the mistake of panicking and not trusting that the blonde would recognize him as a friend. That instance had left him with broken ribs and the certain knowledge that he should have died at the time. Twice he should have been dead, three times when he considered the Sleeper he had taken down just after exiting the airlock on entering the Base Dome. The man had almost had him and he had known then that all hell must have broken loose in the dome. He had not been wrong and it was far from over. He had tried to show the blonde from the first instance they had met that he trusted him and that the Gifted were not freaks or creatures cursed by God to be forever different. He had told him that they relied on each other. Gifted always aided Gifted and they could rely on each other when they could rely on no one else. He had made a near critical mistake in the Shuttle Control Tower and he was not about to make the same mistake again. He had said they relied on each other and shown him that they both were indeed Gifted and now all he could do was to pray that the man would remember and trust. “God, I hope to hell you don't lose it now. I have to touch you, Zechs so don't you dare go getting all twitchy on me and cave in the few ribs I have left that are not broken. I'm going to touch you on the right shoulder, okay? It's just old Giles checking to see how badly hurt you are and when I check you over you can check me over, okay? That is what Partners do, right? We are partners and you can trust me. I need to get you to sit up so I can check you over.” His fingers ghosted over that hunched shoulder, barely touching the black fabric of the flight suit. When there was no reaction to his touch he drew a deeper breath and dared to close his fingers gently around the man's upper arm. For that audacity he was fully expecting to go down in a screaming heap under a lightening fast flurry of blows. The trembling under his touch stilled in an instant and the body under his fingers surged into motion and Giles threw his free hand around the blonde's shoulders, praying that he could hold the man long enough for him to realize who it was who touched him. “It's just Giles!” // Don't kill me!// t.b.c.
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