See Part One for Disclaimers

Unbidden, an image took shape in Zechs' mind.  A young man, about the same age as himself.  Otto.  The young officer who had helped to rebuild Tallgeese.  Who had died after Tallgeese nearly killed Zechs.  Who had died screaming Zechs' name.  He shuddered, but Talia Malloy wasn't about to stop.

"But when all is said and done, you don't have the strength to keep going.  You made mistakes. . .trusted the wrong people, took the wrong course of action.  It happens.  We lowly mortals have to get up, dust ourselves off, and keep going.  You say that you don't deserve to live, because of what you did.  That you don't deserve to rule, because of your actions.  You're half-right," Talia said bitterly.

Ciara shifted uneasily, her eyes flickering from one to the other, and her mother continued, "You don't deserve to rule, and you don't deserve to carry the Peacecraft name, because you're a quitter.  If your father is ashamed of you, it's because you've given up.  Not because you had to kill to survive, not because you fought a war.  But because you don't have the courage to find a reason to live."

Now, in spite of his best efforts, Zechs found himself getting angry.  He hissed at her, mindful of his broken ribs, "Damn you!  How much stronger do I have to be?  I lost my family, I lost my home, everything, when the Alliance felt threatened by my father's ideals of pacifism!  All I ever wanted was to make sure my sister never had to make the same choices I did, that she would be able to remain innocent!"

"Did she ever ask you to make those choices?  Of course not, she was just a baby when the Sank kingdom was turned to rubble.  Would she have asked you to?  Never!  I think you underestimate your sister.  She's stronger than you think. . .if you would have allowed her, she would have taken some of the burden.  Why did you have to be the martyr, why did you have to make all the sacrifices?  My God, Julian, you're only twenty years old!" Talia exploded.

Zechs stared at her, jolted.  Who. . .how did she know that?  He asked slowly, "How did you know my mother called me �Julian,' Talia?  Only people who spent time with my family knew that."  Forgotten was her tirade, leaving only astonishment.  How could she have known that �Julian' was his second name, and the name his mother often called him?

"You'd be surprised what I know about your family.  And you didn't answer my question. . .why did you have to make all the sacrifices?  Why did you have to take all the burden onto yourself?  To atone for the attack, for being unable to save your parents?  Is that it, Zechs?" Talia asked, and once more his anger began rising.  Dammit, why wouldn't she leave him alone?  Why wouldn't she go away?

"Because it was the only way to protect my sister!  Darlian had told the soldiers that she was his daughter.  If anyone knew that either of us were still alive. . .especially Relena. . .it would have all been over.  At least this way, I could protect her!  She didn't know until this last year, she didn't know about me, but that didn't matter.  I knew about her, I loved her, and I would die to protect her!" Zechs fired back.

"You still didn't answer my question.  After she found out about you, learned that you were her brother, why didn't you let her take some of the burden?  Why didn't you go to her?  Why did you have to do it all by yourself?  It's what I thought, isn't it?  Because a six year old boy couldn't protect his family, his country, could barely even protect himself.  Relena was just a toddler, so there was nothing she could have done.  What makes you think you could have done anything, a little boy of six?" Talia demanded.

"BECAUSE I WAS THE PRINCE!  IT WAS MY DUTY!" Zechs cried out.  A sharp pain sliced through his side, but his anger and grief overwhelmed the momentary agony.  He shook his head and continued, "From my earliest memories, my father taught me that it was my duty, my purpose, to protect my people.  My family.  My sister."

"Ciara, honey. . .I think you should leave now," Talia said quietly.  The girl looked at Zechs, then at her mother, then quietly left the cabin, leaving the pair alone.  Talia looked at Zechs, who was struggling to regain his composure, and said, "You were a little boy, Zechs.  Six years old.  Yes, you would have been king one day, but do you really think your father expected a six year old child to save the kingdom?  Him?  Your mother?  Your sister?"

Zechs started to answer, but Talia continued, "No, Zechs.  Your father was a kind, generous, reasonable man.  A man, a king, who loved his family and his people.  You've thought for all these years that he was ashamed of you, that you weren't living up to his expectations.  You were wrong.  You weren't living up to your own."

"My father believed in pacifism.  He believed in non-violence.  He believed in. . .he believed in taking care of people, in standing up for what he believed in.  That's why he died," Zechs answered hoarsely.  Now that he was calmer, he hurt like hell.  Damn adrenaline rush, making him forget that he was still healing.

"Yes.  Your father died because people with small minds felt threatened by him, by his beliefs, and by the people who believed in him.  Your father died because there will always be small-minded, weak people who feel threatened by anyone who doesn't share their beliefs.  Not because his six year old son was unable to save him," Talia answered.

Zechs couldn't argue with her any more.  He was too damn tired.  So, very tired.  Of arguing, of fighting.  He was tired of being tired, tired of hurting.  Talia seemed to understand that, for her eyes softened to the expression which was much more familiar.  She said more gently, reaching out to brush his blond bangs from his eyes, "I've said enough. More than enough, but I won't apologize for it.  We'll talk more later, Zechs.  You need to get some sleep.  I should go check on Ciara.  Arguments of any kind worry her.  I'll be back later."

Zechs nodded, leaning back against his pillows, and Talia rose to her feet.  As she walked out, she dimmed the lights of the cabin once more, leaving Zechs to think about what she had said.  He didn't want to, of course.  Closing his mind and just giving up was so much easier than pulling himself back together and trying again.  But damn her, she was right.  On just about everything.

And if he was truly honest with himself. . .well. . .he didn't want to die.  He wanted to live.  To do what, he didn't know.  But he should have died in the explosion, should have never awakened after losing consciousness.  But he was alive, thanks to this woman and her family.  Three people who had risked their lives, their welfare, to save him.

*      *      *

Well, Talia thought as she walked swiftly to the kitchen, I think I blasted a hole through that mask he's been wearing the last few weeks.  Now, I have to make sure I didn't terrify Ciara.  I didn't enjoy that, or pushing Zechs.  But I'll be damned if I'll just give up and walk away from him.  He's too young to give up on himself, and if he won't fight for himself, then I will!

She found her husband and daughter in the kitchen, as she had expected.  Ciara was still trembling, and Talia slipped up behind the girl, wrapping her arms around her.  Ciara turned in her arms, fiercely embracing her, and Talia kissed the top of her head.  She murmured, "I'm sorry if I scared you, sweetheart.  But I had to do something.  And if it's any consolation, I think it worked."

"Mom, why does he do this!  It's sooooo stupid!" Ciara blurted out, pulling back to look at Talia.  The young woman removed her arms from her step-daughter's waist to cup the girl's heart-shaped face in her hands.  She wiped away Ciara's tears with her thumbs.  Twelve years old.  Where had the time gone?  And how much longer would it be now?  Before her step-daughter was a young woman herself?

Talia had seen the way Ciara looked at Zechs.  She had a terrible crush on the pilot.  Why wouldn't she?  He wasn't much older than she was, he was gloriously handsome, especially when he was so vulnerable.  As he had been these last few weeks.  But. . .Talia thought, he was even more handsome just now.  When there was life in his eyes.

"Because he hasn't learned the most important rule, Ciara.  About forgiving yourself.  He can't forgive himself.  The thing is, how do you tell someone to forgive himself for nearly wiping out an entire planet?" Talia asked in a low voice.  Ciara scooted over, but when Talia sat down on the stool which her step-daughter had occupied, she put the girl on her lap.  Her reward was an indignant look, and Talia almost laughed aloud.

"You don't.  That's somethin' that Zechs has t' come t' terms wi' on his own.  We all have battle scars, Talia, one way or another," Shawn observed and Talia nodded with a sigh.  Shawn was silent for several moments, then said with a half smile, "However.  I think I have an idea which will turn our young warrior's guilt to our advantage."

Talia raised an eyebrow.  She couldn't wait to hear this.  Shawn explained, "We saved his life, right?  I mean, if we hadn't found him, and brought him aboard, he would have died, right?"  Talia nodded, not fully understanding where her husband was going with this, and Shawn continued, his blue-gray eyes dancing with excitement, "So we use that t' keep him alive!  Think about it, Tal. . .we could be placin' our lives in danger if anyone knew that Zechs Merquise was alive and in our care.  Our lives, and Ciara's as well."

"Riiiiiiiiight," Talia drawled out, still not seeing where Shawn was heading with this conversation.  And then she stopped.  Took a step back.  Looked at the whole picture.  Guilt.  Others placing their lives in danger to save him.  Hmmmm. . .could it be?  Talia looked back at her husband, and asked, "So, what you're suggesting is that we inform Zechs that he owes us big-time for saving his life. . .and he's gonna pay up by staying alive?  Am I understanding you correctly?"

"Bingo," Shawn said, and Talia stifled a laugh, hearing that American colloquialism in Shawn's Irish accent.  Not something she heard that often.  Still, Elene had been an American, and Talia knew that Shawn still loved her deeply.  It was one reason, among many, why their relationship had remained platonic these last several years.

He continued, evidently unaware of her amusement, "It's sneaky, and it could back-fire.  But it could also work.  Think about it."  Talia nodded.  Sure, it could work.  And it could blow up in their faces.  Had Shawn thought this through?  Shawn answered this by saying, "And, I have a back-up plan.  I remind him that if he lets go now, then he's betrayed everyone who has ever tried t' help him."

"I like that idea better," Talia said dryly, "either way, you're using guilt to keep him alive.  Not sure I like that idea particularly, but I don't have any other ideas.  And it might buy us some time."  Time to figure out how to break through to Zechs Merquise, burst past that protective wall around his heart and soul.

"So, it's a two-pronged plan.  Remind him of what he owes us, and explain that he can pay us back by fightin' for his life, by not givin' up.  Then remind him of everyone who has gone before.  I'll need some help wi' that, but I think my best bet would be startin' wi' his father.  If he gives up now, that's a betrayal of the Sank Kingdom," Shawn replied.  Talia considered this.  Yes, she had used this theme, when she accused Zechs of being a quitter.

"I knew the king.  He was no quitter.  In fact, if memory serves, he was a soldier at one time, before Zechs was born.  I'm willing to bet that's where his desire for absolute pacifism came into play," Talia answered, thinking of the diskette which was safely hidden in her room.  Zechs wasn't ready to see that, not yet.  But she knew she would show it to him, eventually.  She had to keep her promise to his father.

"Makes sense.  You live through war, and all the different forms of hell which comes wi' it, the last thing you want is your children or your country ever facin' it again.  I know it's risky.  I know there's a chance that this tactic will push him over the edge.  But I don't know what else t' do.  We have t' make him see that dyin' is not the answer," Shawn said.

"I know.  I just wish there was a better way.  We get him upset, and   that will cause a relapse.  He continues in this manner, and he'll never heal," Talia sighed.  She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes.  She felt silk caress her throat, and she opened her eyes to see Ciara looking at her in concern.  She smiled and said, "It's all right, love."

"I hope so, Mom.  I really like him," Ciara answered softly, and Talia hugged her tightly.  Yes, she was sure her step-daughter did like Zechs, very much.  She kissed the side of the girl's head, tightening her arms around Ciara at the same time.  Ciara had been trying so hard, but now it was Talia and Shawn's turn.

"All right.  Let's get started then.  When I was a kid in Ireland, I often read mysteries and novels about police officers.  They had a routine called �good cop, bad cop.'  I'm gonna be the bad cop right now, and Talia gets t' be the good cop," Shawn said.  Talia rolled her eyes.  After what had just happened, she really didn't see that, but. . .

But, she wouldn't spoil Shawn's fun.  Strange, but in some ways, he behaved more like a teenager than the young man in the medical cabin.  Even though Zechs had already turned twenty.

Oh, well, she thought with a sigh as Shawn rose to his feet, hopefully, he'll get through to Zechs.  If not, we go back to the drawing board.  She ran her hand through her hair.  I swear to you, Petyr, she thought, in the names of our ancestors, I'll find a way to break through to him.  So your sacrifice wasn't in vain.

Shawn Malloy left the kitchen of the salvage ship with graceful, measured steps.  He had a particular tactic in mind, but he had some kinks to work out first.  Meanwhile, his mind kept returning to Talia, and their discussions over the last few weeks, ever since they had rescued Zechs.  Milliardo.  Whatever his name was now.

Shawn was learning more about the woman who had been his companion for the last several years.  More every day.  And it was starting to worry him.  He caught himself treating her like a child at times, like the child she had been when he and Elene first found her.  But she was a child no more.  And perhaps, she hadn't been a child then.

How could she be a child, Shawn thought now as he headed for the medical cabin, after her brother died in her arms?  He still couldn't wrap his mind around that.  He knew war was hell, he knew that innocents sometimes paid the price with their blood.  But he wasn't sure he could accept that.  Accept the image of a small boy dying in the arms of his teenaged sister.  Never mind how many times he had seen it in Ireland.  That was different.  Somehow.  Even if Shawn wasn't sure how.  It just....was.  Shawn shook his head, sighing.

And what of their young guest?  What had he seen on the day of the attack?  Did Shawn even want to know?  What kinds of scars were left from that day on the soul of the young prince?  Was that part of the reason for his attack against earth?  Shawn stopped in the middle of the corridor.  The attack on earth.  The targetting of his home planet for destruction.  First with a cannon, then with the two ships.

What the hell had the boy been thinking?  Had he stopped thinking?  What could have possessed him to do something like that?  And why didn't Talia seem more affected by it?  During the battle, he had noticed her expression.   She almost seemed. . .dead. . .inside.  As if she didn't care about the outcome.  As if she didn't care that Earth might be destroyed.  True, she hadn't been home in years, but. . .

But there was a better than even chance her family was still alive.  Hadn't she been worried about them?  Shawn shook his head.  Questions, questions, and more questions.  He had known Talia for several years. . . had met her less than a year after the attack on Sank.  But for the first time, it occurred to him that all that he knew about her, he didn't really know her.  Shawn didn't think he liked that idea very much.

He shook his head again.  He would talk to Talia later.  Right now, he had to make sure that Zechs Merquise didn't get off so easily.  He had to make sure the boy survived, to atone for what he had almost done.  Shawn's mind reeled from the implications, then something else occurred to him.  Looking at the twenty year old leader of the White Fang, he could almost see himself, if he hadn't been pulled out of his own patterns of self-destruction.

Even more frightening. . .despite Zechs' attempt to destroy the earth, he had previous been a decent, honorable man.  Something that Shawn couldn't say.  Before he had met Elene, before he had realized how close he was to self-destruction, it hadn't mattered.  Win at any cost, the ends justified the means.

How then, he thought, can I judge him?  But I never tried to destroy a planet!  I never threatened an entire civilization!  Another voice, deep within his soul, answered, No.  But given the chance, you would have.  And would you have pulled back, as he did?  He set Libra and Peacemillion on its destructive course, and he also hit the self destruct for the engines.  Would you have pulled back?  No matter what the reason for the change in his mind, he did.  Can you say that?

And that was when Shawn Malloy finally began to understand.  Why he had been so desperate to save the young pilot after the final battle.  In saving Zechs Merquise, he was saving himself.  Atoning for what he had done, what he would have done.  He said now, staring at the door of the med-cabin, "This will not end here, Zechs Merquise.  I had to live, had to atone for what I did.  And so will you.  Neither of us can get off that easily.  And nor should we."

*      *      *

After Talia and Ciara left his room, Zechs had fallen back to sleep.  But the dreams were tortured, filled with dying men and women.  Bloodied hands, burned hands, reaching out to him.   Treize.  Otto.  Walker.  Even Alex and Mueller, damn them.  And how many others had he killed?  How many other lives were cut short?

Time and again, he saw Treize reaching out for him.  �I'm waiting for you, my eternal friend.  I'm waiting.'  Zechs moaned in his sleep, trying to move away from the terrible pull of those burned hands.  And then, another hand took his.  A clean hand, a whole hand.  Unburned.

He awoke with a start, to find Shawn Malloy at his side.  Zechs frowned, swallowed hard, and whispered, "Talia. . .is she all right?"  He had rarely seen Shawn in the last few weeks, although Talia had told him that it had been her husband who pulled him into the ship, in the ruined Epyon.  She had also told him that they had stripped Epyon for parts, then blew it up.  Good.

"Talia is fine, as is Ciara.  How are you feelin,' lad?" Shawn asked in his soft Irish accent.  Pagan had been from Ireland, Zechs recalled.  When he had been a child, he loved to listen to his fencing master, just to hear the lovely Irish lilt.  Zechs wondered if this man was from the same part of Ireland as his former teacher.

"I've been better," Zechs answered, thinking back to his escape from Oz.  Shawn laughed softly, and Zechs looked back at the older man.  Shawn's eyes were filled with sadness.  And Zechs didn't know how he knew, but he said it anyhow, "You were a soldier, weren't you?"

"No.  Not a soldier.  A terrorist.  Oh, that wasn't how I saw m'self, but that's what I was.  Just as much a terrorist as the Gundam pilots were.  I damn bloody near destroyed myself and everyone around me.  Oh, I didn't belong t' any particular organization.  I just wanted t' destroy everythin' around me.  Just t' stop the hurtin' inside," Shawn answered.

Zechs closed his eyes.  He understood that.  He had done the same thing, after all, when he had allowed the White Fang to recruit him.  He had. . .  Shawn continued, "That's right, you're not the first warrior t' do that.  You're not the first soldier who's believed he was goin' straight t' hell for bein' what he was, for survivin' as best he could."

As he spoke, the Irish accent thickened, and Zechs whispered, "So, how did you survive?  The guilt, the. . .feeling that you didn't deserve to live?"  The knowledge you had betrayed everyone you ever loved, and whoever loved you.

"I was lucky.  There was a young American girl.  Elene.  Ciara's mother.  She made me see that I was self-destructin,' that I would probably take everyone I had ever loved wi' me.  And she wouldn't stop, either, until she was sure that I got the message.  So my question t' you, Zechs Merquise, is what would it take for you t' accept that we won't give up on you?" Shawn asked.

Zechs lay back, closing his eyes, and Shawn continued, "Oh, you won't escape from me that easily.  You don't deserve t' die.  You don't deserve t' have that endless rest, that escape.  You have t' stay alive, you have t' atone for what you did wrong.  I've been where you are now.  And I'm damned if I'll let you give up now."

"Why?" Zechs asked, and once more remembered the crash of Tallgeese I.  The escape from Oz, the death of Zechs Merquise, or so he had believed.  He was in a giant elevator, in a jeep, with a man in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts.  His sore ribs had protested the movement, and he winced.  Howard turned back to look at him, asking, "Are you in a lot of pain?"  Zechs had ignored the question, asking instead, "Why did you bother saving me?"

"Oh for the love of Mike!  You are not stupid, Zechs Merquise, or Milliardo Peacecraft, or whatever the hell you want t' call yourself!  Nor are you evil!  Why won't we give up on you?  Because we saved your bloody arse, that's why!  We put our lives, and the life of our daughter, on the line, t' save your life!  And we will not allow you t' ruin that by just givin' up and dyin!  Do you understand me?" Shawn yelled.

His eyes were blazing, as Shawn continued in a somewhat quieter voice, "You want t' atone for what you did?  Fine.  Great.  You can start by payin' us back.  We saved your life. . .you owe us.  You owe it t' us t' fight, t' stay alive. . .t' atone for the mistakes you made, whether as a member of Oz, or as part of White Fang.  You. . .owe. . .us.  And I will make damn sure that you pay up."

Shawn's voice had dropped to just above a whisper, his blue-gray eyes burning into Zechs.  The younger man just stared back.  He wasn't entirely sure why, but he could handle Shawn.  Perhaps because they were both soldiers, warriors, whatever Shawn wanted to call himself.  They weren't that different from each other.

No, it was actually Talia who un-nerved Zechs.  That tiny slip of a woman who seemed to see right through to his soul.  She had known exactly what he was thinking, how he had felt about his father's death.  He didn't feel threatened by her, no.  There was nothing threatening about her quiet strength, about the woman who had patiently nursed him back to health.  But she did un-nerve him.

Perhaps that was revealed in his eyes, for Shawn shook his head and murmured, "Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  Talia got under your skin, and I can't even get a flicker.  Why is that?  Because she's a woman?  Or is it more elementary than that?  Knowing that she remembers your family?  Is that what sets us apart?"

Zechs didn't answer, and Shawn sighed, "Fine.  Just remember this.  If you won't fight for yourself, for us, then think of this.  Think of everyone who has ever cared for you.  Your sister, that young lieutenant you kept callin' for in your sleep, Noin.  Your parents.  The men who served under you, who died t' protect you.  Think about them.  You give up now, and you'll have betrayed them."

"I already have," Zechs answered harshly, his eyes snapping back to his now-unwelcome visitor, "I already have, don't you get it?  I betrayed my sister, Noin. . .Otto, Walker, my parents, my heritage, everything I ever believed in, everything that ever meant anything to me, when I joined White Fang!  Otto and Walker are both dead, as are my parents, and as for my sister and Noin. . .they're both both better off without me.  Don't you understand?  I'm trying to protect them!  I nearly ruined both of their lives!  They deserve better!"

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