Disclaimer: The characters belong to Sotsu, Sunrise, Bandai Entertainment, I neither claim them nor certainly make any money off them!
Pairing: 6x2
Rating: Lemony in places
Time Setting: Post-series, three years later (minus events in Ground Zero, Blind Target, Endless Waltz as when I started this, I hadn't seen or read about these yet)
Summary: A chance meeting leads to the recovery of a wounded heart.
A couple hours later they were in position outside a warehouse which Danzer Quinze had said was the Dark Moon's lair. By now Heero and Trowa had caught up to them, and the four of them prepared to proceed. It was now night on this colony. All had dressed for infiltration, wearing black, Zechs's pale hair piled up and hidden under a hat. Weapons at the ready, they moved into position to spy into the warehouse via a large air vent near the front of the building where they thought they'd heard voices.
"We can slip in here," Duo mouthed the words to Zechs, who nodded. Behind them, Heero and Trowa nodded as well, looking grim. Carefully and silently they removed the vent and slipped inside. Duo led the way, stepping with care around discarded machinery and crates to get closer to the voices.
When they got close enough, Duo peeked around the corner of a large crate to get a glimpse. His eyes widened, then he pulled back to inform the others. "This could be a set-up," he mouthed to them. "I saw Unter, pacing... and a man in a wheelchair. The boy is sitting at a table, playing cards. No one else."
Heero tapped at them to get them to read his lips as he responded, "Trowa and I will circle around to the other side. We need to also watch the entrance in case they have visitors."
The others nodded; silently they moved into position, ranging themselves so they could see each other. Then they waited to make sure the situation was as it seemed. Ten minutes went by. The only change was that Unter finally stopped pacing and sank down into a chair at the table next to the boy. At this, Zechs nodded to the others, giving the signal.
They stepped forward, weapons trained on the small group, Zechs to the fore. A shot rang out; when Denis Unter had hastily grabbed for a gun lying on the table, Duo had shot it away across the room, safely out of the man's reach.
"Peacecraft!" Unter muttered in shock, then glanced quickly at the man in the wheelchair, who, before now, had had his face averted from view by any of them. Even Judo looked surprised, though the boy's expression quickly settled into a frown.
The man in the wheelchair turned to face them. "Quinze!" Zechs exclaimed, shocked to see that it was the man who had recruited him for the White Fang in the first place. He'd been presumed dead when the propulsion system of Peacemillion blew up. Though recognizable, his face was covered with burn scars. And to their dismay, he had a gun trained on Zechs.
"Welcome to the Dark Moon, gentlemen," Quinze murmured in a raspy voice; evidently his vocal chords had been damaged as well. "Not much, is it? A last stand, perhaps... or perhaps it is nothing like you thought it was at all."
Duo was trying to decide whether he could safely shoot the gun out of the man's hand, his heart pounding in his chest. Heero and Trowa were more interested in making sure there were no others still about, so there apparently wasn't any help there. [I have to protect him!] was Duo's first and foremost thought.
Zechs was recovering from his shock. "So, which is it? And have you had your hand in the recent business of the White Fang, too? Does Danzer know you're here?"
"So many questions..." Quinze, to their relief, put the gun down, but held onto it in his lap. "Let's see - nothing like you thought, no, and... no. Though that is why I needed to see you, Commander Milliardo. Danzer, of course, thinks this is another group of former White Fang bent on independence. I'm afraid it's only me."
Now Heero and Trowa were scurrying around, securing the building. Duo and Zechs both lowered their weapons. "You could have called me up on the phone, Quinze," Zechs replied dryly.
"But this was more fun... and I wanted to see you while I could," Quinze sighed. "Tell those bright, wonderful Gundam pilots of yours that there isn't anyone else coming."
Zechs looked intently at the old man for a moment, frowning, then called, "Heero - Trowa - come here, please." In moments the other two ex-pilots joined them, weapons hugged to their chests at the ready.
Heero had eyes only for the boy. "Are you okay, Judo?" he asked, stopping near the table.
To their surprise, the boy scowled at him. "You're messing things up! We came to make the White Fang strong again!" Beside him, Unter shrugged.
"The boy's been going on about the White Fang the whole time," Quinze murmured. "Quite the little patriot. I don't know if we were ever that wound up about it, Unter, what do you say?"
Unter, who had been looking very lost, frowned and replied, "Sir, let me remind you that we went all the way to Earth to recruit a fallen angel from OZ to our side. If that wasn't extreme..."
"So what is all this about?" Zechs interrupted, frustrated. "Unter, that boy has got to go back to his home..."
"My home is with the White Fang!" Judo screeched.
"He's more of a handful than I'd bargained for," Unter admitted. "Peacecraft, I assure you, my only intention was to get you to talk to Danzer - and I assume you have done that since you knew where to find us - and then to come here to see Quinze before..." He broke off and looked away.
"Before what?" Zechs asked, frowning.
"Before I die," Quinze said softly.
[Shoulda guessed that one,] Duo thought, looking at the broken man with compassion. [But they never should have taken the kid...]
Zechs found this proclamation incredible. "And you wanted to see *me*? What about your son? Do you have any idea how close your son came to hurting innocent children because he was angry that his own father chose to give his whole attention to the war and had nothing to give his son?"
The man's scarred face shuddered and a little gasp escaped. "Danzer..."
"Yes," Zechs persisted, pulling out a chair and sitting before the wheelchair so that he was on the dying man's level. "Quinze, we have been talking to Danzer. It's clear he resents how you chose the cause of the colonies over being a father to him... I'm sorry we couldn't have brought him to you."
"She... she died... but I had to continue," Quinze murmured brokenly. "I didn't mean to leave him behind."
"Of course not," Zechs murmured gently. "Quinze, I'm here now. Say what you need to to me, but also please tell me what I can tell Danzer. Do that for your son."
Suddenly the old man reached out, clasping Zechs's coat by the sleeve, his eyes wide and staring. Alarmed, Unter stood, but Duo and Heero shot him looks, warning him back. Quinze looked into Zechs's face, searching perhaps for forgiveness. "You were such a bright, young thing... you and the Gundam pilots," the man began hoarsely. "My time was already passing then... and all I was able to do was bring you to the forefront of our push for independence. What we tried to do was terrible... I know that, now. But I admired how resolute you were, how strong..."
He paused to cough, a hand over his mouth. When he lowered his hand, there were a couple spots of blood on it. "I want to thank you, Commander Milliardo, for being a strong voice for the colonies. And I've since heard of your very good works. How wonderful the children now can have good homes..." Quinze paused again, and a tear rolled down the scarred cheek. "Tell Danzer..."
Another coughing spell. Unter, heedless of the two brandishing guns, hastened over to the side of the wheelchair with a glass of water that had been on the table. "Sir, please..." he murmured, helping the old man take a sip. Then he addressed Zechs. "He found me just before that last meeting of the White Fang a few days ago. He begged me to do this. He couldn't travel so..."
"Why the kidnapping, then?" Zechs asked.
"He thought... he was sure you would never agree to meet with him."
Zechs sighed. "Quinze, please, if you can... tell me what I can say to Danzer for you."
The old man nodded. "Yes. Tell Danzer... tell him his father is very sorry he was not able to find more time for him. Tell him... tell him the war is over. Unter told me what happened to the White Fang. I'm glad, Milliardo, that you were able to turn them around. Tell Danzer he should be glad, too. Tell him..."
Quinze collapsed in another coughing fit which alarmed all of them. "I'll call for an ambulance," Unter gasped, turning away.
"No!" Quinze cried with surprising strength. He still had a grip on Zechs's black coat sleeve. "It's my time to end now. There will be no more doctors."
"Quinze..." Unter murmured, his eyes filling with tears.
[Time is very short,] Zechs thought, and exchanged a glance with Duo who stood beyond, next to Heero. "Quinze," he addressed the man softly, "what else do you have to tell Danzer?"
"Tell..." A trail of blood fell over the man's chin. "Tell him... tell him his father loves him very much..."
"I will," Zechs replied fervently, taking the man's hand in his.
"Thank... you... Commander Milliardo..." Quinze whispered. He squeezed back once, then he bowed his head, the life leaving his body.
"You're... welcome," Zechs whispered, then bowed his head. "Rest in peace, Quinze."
The boy, Judo, straightened into a formal salute. Heero's eyes widened, watching the boy who looked so much like himself, saluting the founder of the White Fang. Trowa shouldered his weapon and looked away, sighing.
Duo's hand dropped to the back of Zechs's head, which was bowed over the lax arm still clutching his sleeve.
Denis Unter cried.