Sequel: Peace Must Die
Thyme

I slid stealthily along the dimly lit corridors of the Peacecraft mansion, hugging against the massive stone walls and keeping my footsteps to a soft whisper against the cool marble flooring of the place. My hands searched along the stone for abrupt corners or unknown pieces of furniture as I went, the gun pressed against the small of my back acting as my only reassurance. I was there for only one, simple purpose, and I intended to get it down quickly and efficiently.

Feeling my way past three or four doors, counting until I found the eighth, I could hardly contain a quiet chuckle. Quickly and efficiently. Great, I was turning into Heero.

Seven... Eight...

My fingers brushed over the heavy brass knob of the eighth door, pausing, hovering over it as I swallowed the lump in my throat. There was no turning back now. This was Relena's room. Relena Peacecraft.

I closed my eyes and pushed the door open, stepping into the room and onto the plush, wine-colored carpet there. Reaching my arm around behind my back, I slowly and silently removed the gun from its halter there.

Peace must die.

My hand began to tremble ever-so-slightly, the gun wavering around all over the place, but I advanced upon the sleeping figure on the large, queen-sized bed despite it. Almost regretfully, I stood by the bed, staring at the girl there.

Her wheat-blonde hair feel in a slight cascade over the edge of the bed, the moonlight playing over her thin shoulders and adding an iridescent shimmer to the folds of her honey tresses. The sheets and comforters of her bed slid from her body, allowing view of the sensible pink nightgown she wore. My hand abruptly stopped trembling as I forced myself to walk closer, reminded of Heero and his one piece of advice...

Peace must die.

Shoving thoughts of Relena's innocence from my head, I leveled the gun squarely at her forehead, clicking the safety off.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, and I couldn't be sure whether I saw her eyes flutter open in a look of frantic terror or whether it was just my overractive imagination, but I know I heard a scream echoing out across the halls as I pulled the trigger.

"NO!"

I whirled, my hands fluttering around like nervous birds, and was met by the terrified and rage-filled gaze of Relena's brother.

"Zechs," I mumbled, disbelieving. His ice blue eyes, cold and hard, travelled over to his sister's body, settling on the round little hole in her forehead and the blood spattered around on her pale white pillow. His eyes widened and he launched himself forward, most likely to throttle my throat or something, and it was all I could do to sidestep out of his path.

"You bastard," he growled, his platinum hair creating a miniature whirlwind around his face as he turned to sneer at me. But he didn't get much of a chance to say anything else, because another gunshot promptly rang out through the Peacecraft mansion, and Zechs soon had a little hole in his head much like Relena's.

I turned away, momentarily disgusted with myself and the brains and blood sprayed around the room, but the picture of Heero, dirty and neglected while confined in a small room and dressed in a straight jacket... Well, it just pulled at my heart.

Sparing one last glance at my victims, I bolted out of the place like a bat out of hell, struggling to keep my stomach firmly in place where it belonged and not all over the concrete sidewalk as I ran away from the massive Peacecraft estate. Guilt, remorse, relief, pain, and about a bazillion other emotions picked away at my insides, and with a small sigh as I clicked the safety back on the gun, I knew what I had to do.

Heero. I had to set him free, set us free. We had to get out of this crazy place.

Securing the gun at the small of my back once more, I hurriedly yanked open the door to my car, practically jumping inside and slamming it into high gear as I screeched away. I didn't want to look back, I swear, I really didn't, but my eyes found their way to the review mirror again...

There was a light on in Relena's room, and there was one frantic shadow illuminated against the backdrop of light, shaking with either overwhelming grief or rage as he or she -- I didn't know which -- discovered the bloody scene.

My stomach did a full, 360 degree flip as I quickly tore my eyes away from that godforsaken mirror. I always saw the worst things in that damn thing.

* * *

The pain ate at me like a starving child at a food banquet. The sausage fingers of the fat man, obviously in charge of the insane asylum, were curled lifelessly, clutching at air as he lay slumped against his swivel-chair, a small hole identical to both Zechs and Relena's marring his chubby forehead. I had killed another innocent. I told myself that it didn't matter, that it would only help destroy peace like I had set out to do, but ...

Something about it just wasn't right.

"Fuck," I whispered, my eyes latched onto the sight of another human being's brains staining the pale white walls of the room. A vision of Relena's blood spattered delicately across her frilled pillow wriggled its way into my brain, and I shuddered, remembering the way it had clung to her pretty blonde hair and stickily turned into one mixed mass of death. I clutched my gun tightly, briefly remembering that I still had two bullets left if I encountered anyone along the way, and that this was what needed to be done.

Peace does not exist, I reassured myself, jogging lightly down the hall to Heero's cell. I had to keep both hands on the gun to keep it from shaking too much as to alter my aim. It was pitiful, actually, that I couldn't control it. Shaking. Funny how I was so afraid of killing people, even after the war. Maybe it was the fact that I was killing innocents, or that I had to watch their actual life essence spill out all over my clothes and hands, staining them further...

Or maybe it was that I'd once carried on a casual conversation with Relena once, only to watch her slowly drown in her own blood the next week.

I shivered again, shaking my head to throw the thoughts away. Peace does not exist. It's just an excuse to wait for the next war. There is no such thing as peace. Remember what Heero said. Remember...

"Heero."

I opened his door after unlocking it with the key I'd stolen from the dead body at the front desk. The dead body I'd killed.

"Duo," a voice murmured from the corner. I couldn't see anything, so I yanked on the little cord in the middle of the room, and light quickly flooded everything. I turned, slowly, and had to bite back a gasp when I saw him.

He still hadn't been bathed, that much was obvious, if not by his smell alone, but there were still little streaks of clean along his dirt-marred cheeks. When I finally got a good look at his eyes, stepping over to him silently, I could see that they were a little red, and just the slightest bit puffy.

He'd been crying.

I kneeled down next to him, carefully undoing the straps of his straight jacket. I tossed it to the far corner, drawing him into my arms for comfort -- both for me, and for him. I knew he needed it, even if he wouldn't admit so.

"Let's get out of this fucked up place, Heero," I whispered, and upon feeling his nod of agreement against my shoulder, I released him and stood.

"Let's get out of here," I repeated. I drew the gun from the small of my back, noting ironically that I had exactly two bullets left.

One for me, and one for him.

Fate must have known all along.

"Yes," he said, closing his eyes as I clicked the safety off again one final time and aimed it at his forehead.

Just like Relena. Just like Zechs. Just like Mr. Sausage-Hands.

"Let's," he agreed.

I fired, looking away in fear of what I knew I would see if I did look: I would see Heero's blood, among other things, staining the wall. Staining my life, and my already dirtied hands.

Just like Heero...

I raised the gun to my own head, careful to put the smooth, cold barrel right on the middle of my forehead. A small, funny little smirk tugged at my lips, and I pulled the trigger.

And just like me.