See Part One for Disclaimers

Despite the steps taken by the husband and wife, as well as young Ciara, it was almost a week before they were somewhat positive Zechs Merquise would live.  He was weaker than they originally feared.  His injuries were only part of the equation.  The morning after his rescue, he developed a high fever.  That week was spent in a vigil at his side for Talia, while Shawn piloted their craft.  She ate and slept, since Ciara would spell her at their patient's side.  But she only left the boy's side to eat and sleep, and attend to other bodily functions.

Shawn admitted that the boy seemed more willing to fight for his life while Talia was there, for reasons neither of them understood.  Any more than they understood his seeming desire to die.  He just lay on the bed, usually unconscious.  When he was conscious, it was only for a few moments, and he was delirious.

Usually, he was crying.  Crying, begging, for his sister to forgive him . . . but someone had to atone for the weakness, the sins, of humanity.  For the incessant wars to end, a sacrifice had to be made.  And if it took such a terrible cost, so be it.  If people despised his name from the end of time, if it ended war . . . it was necessary.

"But you're just a boy," Talia whispered after one such confession, "just a child.  How can you, one mere boy, atone for so many?"  She shook her head, gently stroked his hair back from his forehead, and that quieted him.  He spoke of others . . . but most of his conversations, most of his words, were for his beloved little sister.

As the days passed and Zechs hovered between life and death, Talia found herself facing her brother's death once more.  She had been sixteen years old when her brother had been killed.  They had been on a family vacation to the Sank kingdom, upon an invitation from her father's old friend, the king himself.

King Peacecraft had welcomed them warmly, introducing them to his wife, the queen Katerina, and their two children.  The little prince Miliardo had bowed politely, then returned to his fencing lesson.  The king and her father began talking, Mother had put Petyr to bed . . . he was sharing a room with the prince, at the royal little boy's insistence.  That left Talia alone with the queen, and her baby daughter Relena.

It seemed so strange, these years later, that it was Talia's family who had rescued the prince, now called Zechs.  Almost as if someone, or rather Someone, wanted to give her a second chance.  Petyr had been the same age as the prince.  Her brother had died in her arms when she was sixteen, in part because Petyr and Talia had been instructed to protect the prince in any way they could.  In any way they could find.  They had found that way.  Would she have the opportunity to save this young man, when she had been unable to save her brother?  And perhaps, in doing so, earn the forgiveness of her parents?

These questions were put aside, for she needed to concentrate on healing her patient, who daily struggled with his own battles and demons.  A week after they found his Gundam floating in a field of rubble, Zechs Merquise awoke.  If Talia had believed their lives would get interesting before, the weeks which followed his awakening proved her point.

*      *      *

He . . . hurt.  Which was strange, because he had always believed that death would end all pain.  But he hurt now.  Oh, by the gods, he hurt.  If there was a part of his body which didn't hurt, he didn't know about it.  Then he heard a soft, young girl's voice.  Relena?  The girl said, "Mom, he's waking up.  No, I think he's really waking up!"

At that, Zechs Merquise did force his eyes open.  He was wrong.  He wasn't dead.  And despite the whispering in the back of his mind, the girl at his side wasn't his little sister Relena.  The girl, who seemed a little younger than Relena, did beam at him, saying, "It's an honor to have you aboard, Colonel Merquise!"  The child . . . perhaps twelve or thirteen years of age, snapped a salute which would have put half of Oz to shame, as well as the majority of White Fang.

Zechs started to answer, but blinding pain shot through his torso, robbing him of the ability to speak.  Colonel Merquise.  He hadn't heard that in a long time.  Not long enough, however.  A soft hand touched his forehead, caressed his hair, and a voice said, "Easy . . . don't try to talk.  We weren't sure if you would make it."  Zechs closed his eyes against the pain, forcing himself to relax . . . and slowly, the pain eased.

Once he was reasonably certain he could talk in a low voice without blinding pain, Zechs whispered, "Where am I?  Who are you? What happened?"  Now the pain began taking over again.  But with the pain, with consciousness, came questions.  He could only vaguely remember the battle with Heero Yuy.  And he remembered he had meant to die.  So . . . how was it possible he was alive?

"You're aboard our salvage ship.  It doesn't have a name, it doesn't really need one.  My name is Talia Malloy, and this is Ciara.  We found you about a week ago, after your Gundam battle," that same soft voice answered.  Zechs forced himself to open his eyes, and the woman said, "Ciara, turn down the lights, so they don't hurt our guest's eyes."

"Okay, Mom.  Should I tell Daddy that he's awake?" the girl asked.  Her mother assented, then the girl, Ciara, ran from the room.  With the lights not as bright, Zechs focused on the woman sitting beside him.  She looked vaguely familiar, though he couldn't place her.  His head hurt, his body hurt, his soul hurt, too much for him to concentrate on where he had seen her before.  The young woman looked to be about twenty-five or thirty, with curly dark hair and dark hazel eyes.

She smiled at him and said softly, "We weren't sure you'd pull through.  You're as strong-willed as the rest of your family."  Zechs blinked . . . she knew of his family?  His . . . father?  Talia . . . that was her name, wasn't it?  Talia?  He thought that was what she had said.  She knew his family?  But she said gently, "You look like your father.  I'm sure he's very proud of you.  Your mother, too."

"I've disappointed them both.  My father believed in pacifism, and I became a warrior," Zechs answered, then moaned in pain.  He should have died, he had wanted to die. He had told Heero Yuy that they would met again, because he believed they would on the other side.  With Treize.  But not now, for Heero was needed to protect Relena.  Talia's fingers brushed through his hair, and the pain began to ease once more.

"I seriously doubt that.  You did what was necessary to survive, what was necessary to protect your little sister.  And you succeeded.  For that alone, they're proud of you.  No more talking.  You were hurt very badly.  Just rest for now, and we can talk later.  I promise to answer what questions I can.  Sleep," she said.

Zechs again tried to protest, but Talia repeated, stroking his forehead, "Sleep, my little love.  Just sleep."  Against his will, Zechs found his eyes closing and the darkness came in and claimed him.  In his dreams, he was six years old, before his world fell apart, before his family was destroyed . . . while he was still worthy of love.

*      *      *

"So how is he?" Shawn asked as he joined his wife and daughter in the galley.  Ciara had raced to the cockpit, out of breath and gasping that he was awake, Colonel Zechs was awake.  Shawn had followed her to the med-cabin, where the young man was once more losing consciousness.  But he had seen the relief in his wife's dark hazel eyes, and that was all he needed to know for that moment.

"Well, like I said after I did a more thorough examination, he's damn lucky to be alive.  Broken ribs, internal bleeding, a punctured lung.  From what I could gather from the information we downloaded from his Gundam before we stripped it and blew it up, he was knocked unconscious in the blast.  The explosion blasted him through the ship before the block hit the atmosphere, and Heero Yuy blasted it with that cannon of his," Talia answered, wiping her hands on her slacks.

She paused, then continued, "I also downloaded the voice files, talking to the other pilots and to the White Fang.  One of the arms had already been taken off during his battle with Heero Yuy.  According to what I've heard, some of these Gundam Suits have their own consciousness, their own . . . intelligence."

"So, what you're saying, Mom, is that it protected him?  How?" Ciara asked.  Shawn looked at his wife questioningly, and Ciara went on, "I mean, when the explosion took place, shouldn't the cockpit have been destroyed?  Shouldn't it have been totally destroyed, since he was the one who started the process?"

"You'd think so, yes.  But that's where the suit comes in.  If the suit does have a consciousness of its own, it's entirely likely that the suit tried to protect him.  Think about it.  The positioning of your body, or another, at the time of impact decides how badly the impacted body will be injured.  The suit may have turned sideways after the initial blast, the one that knocked him unconscious.  That way, only the remaining limbs were blasted away, leaving the torso intact," Talia answered.

"And what of the life-support system?  Would the suit be able to keep his life support system going, even with the hits it must have taken as it was blown through the ship?" Shawn asked.  Talia shrugged . . . none of them really knew that much about Gundams.  Shawn was silent for a few moments, then asked his wife, "So what now?"

"I don't know," she admitted with a sigh, leaning back against the cabinets, "I really don't know.  I have an uneasy feeling that we'll need to keep a watch on him.  While I was talking to him, I had the impression that he felt he didn't deserve to live.  Nothing specific that he said, particularly.  Just the sadness in his voice when he said that he had disappointed his parents.  Nothing concrete, no reason . . . just a feeling. But, unless we want our efforts to go to waste, we have to convince him that it's worth it . . . that life is worth it."

"How do we do that, Mom?  And why would he want to die?" Ciara asked in puzzlement.  Shawn smiled faintly at his daughter, understanding her confusion.  She had grown up in space, she had grown up free, surrounded by people who loved her.  Even after the death of her mother, ten years earlier, she had been surrounded by love.  Advantages which had been denied to Miliardo Peacecraft . . . Zechs Merquise.  He and Talia had been talking a great deal during the last week.  About the tragedy which had brought her to him and Elene.

"Because, honey, in order to survive, he had to do some terrible things.  And he can't forgive himself for that.  Remember how he would cry in his sleep, about wanting his sister to forgive him?  That's what I'm talking about.  But we have to convince him to forgive himself.  We have to convince him that life is worth it . . . that he's worth it," Talia answered.

"Which brings us back to the original question.  How?" Shawn asked.  Talia sighed again.  Shawn got the picture.  She was as clueless as they were.  But Shawn found he was just as determined to keep that young man alive as his wife was.  His motivations were different than hers, but their ends were the same.

"Ciara, before you were born, I was a lot like that young man.  I didn't believe I deserved to live.  But your father and mother taught me that the only way a person can atone for what they've done, or failed to do, is by living.  And they loved me.  It sounds terribly corny . . . but it's true.  We convince him to keep living, by loving him," Talia answered.

Shawn considered his wife's words.  Love.  Could something so simple so necessary to save the life of a young man?  Why not?  As Talia had said, it had been love which saved her when he and Elene had found her all those years ago.  True, Zechs Merquise was older, and had even more on his soul than that lost little girl had.  But it was a place to start.

The End

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