Merc

Trowa POV

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We drove. I really had no destination in mind except to get as far away from the circus as possible. I stayed away from the main roads, drawing on knowledge of the surrounding area and topographic maps to guess the layout of the country roads. We would have to stop for gas within the next few hours, and I could boot up my computer and plan a route to nowhere, plotting a place that’s busy enough for a few new faces to go unnoticed, but private enough for my gundam to stay secret.

It was early evening when we made it to a town to stop, fill up, and grab something to eat. I left my laptop packed up due to the more rural location. Technology was not overwhelmingly abundant, and a computer would be remembered more readily than two young truckers at a truckstop and diner.

But there were maps available at the gas station counter, those would due just fine. As we ate, I spread the maps out across the table and started scanning our options. I figured the other pilot would help, but his gaze stayed firmly fixed on the window.

I took note of the main roads and several alternate routes, just in case, and started folding up the maps. His blue eyes focused on mine as I tucked them away; I just sat there, waiting. He would either tell me what was haunting him or let it drift away under my gaze. His choice.

He dropped his head, concentrating on the remains of food on his plate. “Trowa.”

My eyes never left him, scanning the dark hair hiding his face. “Yeah.”

“Did you have any place in particular in mind?” One hand pushed the mostly empty plate away from him, and raised his head to look at me again.

“No, did you?”

He nodded.

“Where?”

He looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know, yet.”

I just closed my eyes for a second because I wasn’t sure how to respond. He continued, clearing things up. “I won’t know until I do some research. I need to talk to some people, and I’ll have to hack some Alliance military files before I will know.”

Blue eyes were fierce and determined. I had seen that look before, right before he hit the button.

As he explained, I realized it came down to one thing: penance. He needed to correct the mistake he made, give some justice to the victims, both living and dead, that were born of his haste. Or that’s what he felt, anyways. Oz had bound his hands as they had us all, plus, he had no gundam anymore. The only solace he could offer the pacifists’ families was vengeance, taking the life of their loved one’s murderer.

After all that work, I had to stand by and watch him die anyways. Technically, I didn’t have to. I could have left him to run his errands alone, but then I would have no purpose again. So I stayed, standing watch to his death. The fall of a fellow soldier.

Death takes a bigger toll when you know its coming for someone you want to live. My own death meant nothing to me, despite Catherine’s words, but his…If he would have let me, I would have stood in his place with the barrel to my head instead of his.

There was an Alliance satellite off the main base a few hundred miles from our current location. With the condition the other pilot was in, I didn’t want to risk the high security of the current Alliance bases. Oz had been attacking any resisting Alliance strongholds with no option to surrender for those soldiers. Everything still standing with Alliance colors was on red alert.

So the off base, sparsely guarded records building was perfect, even if it was a little out of the way, just a few days drive. He couldn’t drive, not with that arm; so even though he offered, I refused every time, and he didn’t argue. It was my gundam on the truck; plus, I think he spent too much time immersed in his own thoughts to concentrate on the road.

That was fine; the silence suited me fine.

The satellite building had one guard who was snoring heavily, sitting in a chair, and propped up against the wall. We just walked right past him; I picked the lock while he made sure the guard didn’t wake.

We walked into a room that was several stories in height, books, albums, and records covered the walls. A few computers were centered in the room, the other pilot took the lead when we got to a computer terminal. I took a seat behind him, arms crossed over my chest, eyes barely open looking disinterested, and watched as he easily bypassed every wall the Alliance organization had setup for security. He was a very efficient hacker.

As he reached for a disc to download the information onto, I heard a barely audible groan. His left arm shuddered and his fingers lost their grasp of the disc, letting it fall to the floor. His right hand came over to grasp at the hurt arm, trying to give it support, urge the pain to stop. His face grimaced with the effort, but we both knew this wouldn’t stop him.

I sighed and stood, walked the few paces that separated him from me. The disc was lying on the floor under his chair on the left side. He hadn’t tried to pick it up yet, for good reason. I bent to pick it up for him; something as light as a computer disc paired with the position of his arm outstretched was too much stress for him still.

Yet he wanted to support the weight of a gun and hand it to his enemies. I don’t think I’ll ever truly understand him.

“Take better care.” I spoke softly as I stood, holding the disc lightly in my fingers.

“Huh?” He turned to look at me over his shoulder.

“Of your body, I mean.”

He released his grip on the injured limb and looked down at the fresh bandages I had replaced only a few hours previously. There was very little spotting on the bandages, but that wasn’t my concern.

I was more than a little upset about the prospect of watching all my hard work end with a single bullet. But it was his decision, and I could do little to change it.

Leaning forward over the desk he was working at, I inserted the disc, and brought up the files he had been scanning. He leaned back and let me take over. I brought up the next of kin listed for Noventa, a picture of a young girl came up. She seemed about our age.

“That’s Sylvia Noventa. She’s in Marseilles.” He turned in his chair, not looking at either the computer screen or me.

“Are you sure that’s where you want to begin?” I asked, hoping he would change his mind. Young, supposedly very close to her grandfather; she would be very likely to let her pain and anger get the better of her and pull the trigger.

“Yeah.”

I hit the commands to download all the necessary information on the various family members, and we left. He and I gathered all the supplies we would need for the upcoming trip, which wasn’t much we didn’t already have packed, and headed towards Marseilles.

We drove for as long as I could manage to stay awake, which was about two days, and pulled over for a brief nap that night. He took watch while I slept, or tried to sleep. I’ll admit, I couldn’t really let myself relax. I knew he was capable; I knew he would alert me if there were any problems, but I kept seeing his face in my mind. Those blue eyes filled my vision only to have a gun placed between my eyes and his, then a sound I knew so well, a small entry wound to the forehead, and those eyes were dead, black as night. Nothing remained, no ounce of the intelligence that normally haunted those depths, and he was falling backwards, a small trickle of blood trailing down his face.

I would jolt out of the shallow slumber, my body tense, and my breathing carefully controlled. I’m almost certain the other pilot noticed, but if he did, he didn’t say a thing.

It was going to be a long night for me. I was having more trouble than expected with this. 01 was essentially plotting countless deaths for himself…and with one of my guns, no less. But for some reason I couldn’t leave.

That feeling I had the first night overtook me again…As if my presence alone could stave off death…

Such a foolish waste, but there was no dissuading him. I knew that from his face when he told me of his plans, so I didn’t even try, but something inside me wanted to.

On the way to Marseilles, just outside the city, he caught me off guard.

“Trowa?”

We had driven in silence since we had left the circus, aside from the rare navigational comment, so his voice echoing in the cab of the truck shook me a bit. “Hm.”

“I’m not as strong as you give me credit for.” He was looking out the windshield of the truck as I glanced out of the corner of my eye.

“What?”

“When we left the circus…” He trailed of letting my thoughts remind me of his words.

“Oh.” When I told him I admired his strength after my inability to self-detonate.

He nodded. “There was a similar situation…a girl. She had seen my face, knew my identity, seen Wing.” I assumed the name of his gundam was Wing. I liked the name; maybe he likes the feel of flight as well.

He turned away, looking out of the passenger window. “I couldn’t kill her despite several opportunities.”

It was a last confession. My eyes closed for a long second; there was a discomfort in my chest, a pressure as I realized that this was the last chance we may have in private. He must have realized that, too. His words were a ‘now or never.’

I tried to think of a response. ‘When you’re trained to protect the innocent…,’ ‘Following your emotions sometimes disagrees with orders…’ Several phrases, not fully formed, ran through my head, but nothing seemed adequate.

He turned to look at me then. Blue eyes were scanning my profile, seeking some hint as to my reaction to his confession. I turned to give him more than just the peripheral corner of my vision.

Our eyes locked as he continued. “You’ve got more strength than you think.”

I looked back at the road.

“I appreciate you lending me some of it through this.” His head motioned to the approaching buildings of the city. So this was taking a toll on him as well.

“…through everything, Trowa.”

I didn’t know I was giving him strength, didn’t know he needed it. What do you say to something like that? I only nodded in response which felt horribly inadequate.

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Sorry it took so long, my apologies, I'm finding it difficult to keep "Trowa's" perspective so its slowing down my updates. I'm scared I'm losing his voice through all of this, but I'm trying. I hope you're still with me, still enjoying it.

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