Disclaimer: I think you know the drill by now, but just for argument's sake, I do not own Gundam Wing. I do not own the characters from Gundam Wing. I do not own the clothes that the Gundam Wing characters wear. I do not own the cars they would potentially drive, the cereal they might eat, or the television they might watch. The only thing I do own, is the idea for this story, which I hope you are all enjoying!

Author's Note: Well, I hope this isn't getting too sad for you. I like the raw emotions, and the tears, and anguish. But it's not for everyone. This next chapter is another sad one, but I'm sure you would expect no less at this point. The italicized part is a dream sequence, with heavy reference to Endless Waltz, but it was a necessary reference point. So, for those who haven't seen it (I highly recommend it!!), my apologies.

Legacies of Victory and Defeat by Luvspook

Episode 7: Sands of Doubt

He was running.

The wind rustled through the trees in his wake, whispering in a myriad of angry voices.

He had failed.

The mission had failed.

And now his hands were stained with innocent blood.

The undergrowth tore at his ankles, and each tree branch along his path tore into his bare flesh like razors. But he didn't care. He was numb with a pain that was beyond that of the cruelest physical punishment. A pain that burned in his heart and soul, tearing and twisting him apart from the inside out.

He plummeted blindly against the forest floor, tumbling down the jagged fingers of rock, uncontrollably.

Warm blood trickled from innumerable cuts to stain the rocks below him, mingling with the first and perhaps the last tears he would ever allow himself to shed.

What have I done? His mind asked, relentlessly. What have I become?.

The old man's words still burned with unquenchable intensity in his memory, haunting his soul with pangs of guilt.

These humane acts of kindness are not needed for our weapon. Retrain him at once.

His face still stung from where the old man, Dekim, had struck him; knocking him to the floor forcing the lifeless body of that small puppy from his grasp.

He struggled to remember its name, as though that could release him from his overpowering feelings of remorse. As though he could justify such a sacrifice, by committing its name to memory.

".Mary." He whispered, his voice as course as gravel. A voice that sounded inhuman to his own ears; like a stranger who could bear the pain of his mistakes.

That puppy's name had been Mary. His mind chided, harshly.

He lowered his head to the ground, half-wishing that he could bury himself in it, only wishing to release himself from the pain. All the while, still trying to convince himself that he could retain some humanity as long as he could remember that little dog's name.

"It wasn't." he whispered, clutching the rough shards of granite, until his hands bled. "It wasn't supposed to happen.like this. I wasn't supposed to fail."

Pain assaulted him like a thousand knives slicing into his flesh simultaneously, and he curled into a fetal position on the ground, his breath coming in several frantic gasps for air.

What's.What's happening to me?.His mind screamed bitterly, as a tide of crimson washed over him, and his vision turned to red.

The trees around him began to shake violently, crumbling away like dust, as a swarm of mobile suits descended on the land like insects. A distant rumble pounded in his ears, and he struggled to move; but found himself paralyzed.

Each mobile suit that appeared was like a shadow toying inside his mind, appearing for a split second, only to escape detection the moment he tried to focus on it.

The forest, no longer green and lush, was now a desolate battlefield, stained red with blood. The wind swept up a dust cloud of sand and small rocks, explosions sounding to every side of him, as the ground trembled beneath his feet.

Why can't I move!?.His mind screamed, the thought punctuated with uncertainty and fear. I've got to do something. I have to stop them!

Another explosion rocked the land, throwing him to the ground, and as the dust cleared, he could barely make out the outlines of a mobile suit.of several mobile suits that looked like.

NO! He screamed, though no sound escaped his body.

The Gundams were scattered across the battlefield, like empty, metal carcasses.

He could feel his chest constrict painfully and the scene before him blurred.

Cruel laughter struck his ears as he viewed the countless bodies of his allies. no, his friends.of people he had come to rely on and even trust.

Relena...Duo and Trowa....Quatre and Wufei.....Noin, and too many others to count.

The ground began to swallow their bodies eagerly, and he fought to pull them free of the sinking sands beneath them.

But he was alone....and so tired.

Relena's lifeless body stared up at him, plaguing him with such penetrating guilt that he wanted to just let go, allowing himself to sink into the ground along with her.

But it wasn't within him to give up.

He was the perfect soldier, after all.

He was a one-man, emotionless instrument of victory.

Void of feelings or weaknesses.

Invulnerable.

Untouchable.

He couldn't feel the hot tears that stung his eyes, drying instantly as an arid wind blew across the sand.and one by one, they disappeared from view.

Heero woke with a start, bolting upright in far too dark of surroundings, his entire body bathed in a thin sheen of sweat. His vision blurred with the swift movement, and he had to stifle the brief cry that threatened to spill from his lips.

He fought desperately to control his torn and ragged breathing, each attempt catching in his throat, as the accompanying mind-numbing pain shot through his body; radiating from his left arm, and sweeping fiercely through the rest of him.

He trembled, violently, as he struggled to bring the pain to a tolerable level, still reeling in the reminiscence of his dream.his never-ending nightmare.

The remnants of a cold sweat trailed down the sides of his face, and he tried to suppress a chill from working its way through his body.

Brushing his uninjured hand over his face, he fought desperately to remember what had happened.trying to focus on anything other than the vivid clarity of his dream.

"What happened? What's the matter with me? " He whispered, shivering involuntarily. "Huh?"

He stopped suddenly, as his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, and caught sight of the cascading waves of golden hair just off to his right.

His prussian blue eyes softened as Relena, asleep at his bedside, let out a soft, muffled sigh and shifted slightly, but did not wake up.

Without a breath of conscious thought, he reached out, and so as not to wake her, lightly brushed the silken threads of hair away from her face.

He sat mesmerized at the way the moonlight touched the surface of her delicate features, glistening through her long hair, and turning exhaustion to a beautiful, faint blush across her cheeks.

Relena.

Her name touched his mind just seconds before the flashing image of the pale and lifeless face from his dream did, and an icy numbness flooded his body.

His hand, hovering just inches from her face, began to tremble slightly, and a faint feeling of nausea swept over him. He quickly recoiled, as though punished by the mere thought of touching her.

His mind quickly regained control, scolding him with the memories of his dark past.

Would it be my fault if she died now? He questioned, with the strength found only in his conscious mind.

"No." He whispered, gently, his eyes still set on Relena's peaceful, sleeping face. "I won't take that chance."

His mind set, he slipped out of the bed, and with no small degree of difficulty, struggled weakly to his feet.

Rummaging through the closet, he grabbed one of the heaviest button-down flannel shirts he could find, and struggling to avoid moving his injured left arm, carefully slipped it on. Next came the blue jeans, and finally his tan sneakers.

By the time he had finished getting dressed, his breathing had become labored again, and he was sweating profusely. Forced to stop several times to contend with bouts of nausea and dizziness, now he was struggling to simply put one foot in front of the other.

He was just about to leave the room when, seemingly on cue, Relena started to stir slightly, and he found himself once again drawn to her side. He fought the desire to stay, assuring himself that this was the best thing he could do, under the circumstances. Hoping that when she awoke to find him gone, she would find a way to understand, although he knew she wouldn't.

Allowing his mask to fall away, just for a moment, he took one of the extra blankets from the closet, and gently draped it over her sleeping form, smiling inwardly as she relaxed against its warmth and protection.

"Farewell, Relena."

* * * * *

The layout of the house certainly provided a challenge, especially with only moonlight to guide him down the stairwell. But after what seemed an eternity, he reached the ground floor, completely unaware that he was being carefully scrutinized from the shadows.

In the faint moonlight, Noin could see the pain and fatigue etched across Heero's taut features; and couldn't help but wince, sympathetically, as he leaned heavily against the rail, hugging his ribs so tightly that she thought he might collapse.

The pain he was in was unmistakable, and it served only to infuriate her that he was attempting to leave in such a condition.

A memory touched the edge of her consciousness, reminding her of a time that Zechs had acted just as foolishly. His first attempt at piloting the Tallgeese had earned him a short-lived hospital stay and a mild heart attack at the tender age of 19. She shook her head at the thought, remembering his nonchalant response to the medic after hearing his prognosis.

"You mean I should just be glad to be alive."...

Well, Heero wasn't going to get off that easy.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Noin asked, from the shadows, startling the young pilot.

He whirled, a bit too quickly, but succeeded in drawing his gun, suddenly relieved that he had not forgotten to grab it before leaving his room. He recoiled ever so slightly, but the pain gave him an edge, and his eyes narrowed with intent.

Noin immediately stepped from the shadows, peering sternly down the barrel of his weapon, which gleamed silver in the moonlight.

"You must be in a lot of pain, if you couldn't even see me standing there." She said, quietly, relieved to see realization dawning in his cold eyes.

But he didn't reply as he permitted his arm to relax, and eventually drop back down to his side. And she really didn't need him to. The answer was written all over his face.in his body language.the way he was poised like a spring trap, ready to go off.

"What are you planning to do, Heero? You shouldn't be going anywhere in your condition."

"I have to leave here, tonight..." Heero replied, with urgent determination. "Where is Zero?"

"Wing Zero was virtually destroyed in your last battle..." Noin replied, quickly. "The others have been working on the repairs, but with the recent attacks, the demand for parts has made things difficult."

Her words faded to silence as she noticed the drastic loss of color in his cheeks, and found herself reaching out to steady him, afraid that he might fall if she didn't.

"Are you okay?..." She asked, the anger drifting away as she looked into his face, which openly reflected his pain. His jaw was set and eyes clamped shut, and tiny beads of sweat dotted his pale complexion.

"What did she do to me?" He growled, through clenched teeth, fingering the small blood soaked bandage just above his right eye, as though he could erase the uneasiness and disorientation that now resided inside his head.

"We're not exactly sure...but you've been unconscious for just about 24 hours, now."

"Then she'll be returning soon." He stated, matter-of-factly, struggling to avoid Noin's penetrating glare. "I don't have much time."

"But how do you...?" Noin had just started to ask, as Heero's cold, calculated tone sent a shiver down her spine, silencing her instantly.

"Zero told me."

"And what about Relena? What should I tell her when she wakes up and finds you gone again? You know how that girl feels about you, Heero."

Her words struck his heart with vicious intent and he met her questioning gaze with unwavering eyes.

"I am doing this for her." He replied, suddenly, his words stopping her short. "I told her that I wouldn't be able to protect her if she stayed. Worse than that, by failing to prevent Dasenya's attack here, I've placed her in even greater danger. Dasenya will return, and as long as I stay here, it will give her all the reason she needs to destroy this place and all of you with it.and I won't be that reason."

"But where will you go?." Noin argued, fighting to keep him from walking out the door. "Out there, you'll be alone. You should stay here and..."

"It would be far too risky for me to stay here any longer. It's better for everyone this way."

He stopped momentarily, turning to glare back over his shoulder at where Noin was standing, staring after him, sadly.

"I've got a favor to ask you, Noin..." Heero whispered, softly. "Look after her for me. And tell her that someday.I hope she understands."

Noin couldn't utter a sound as the young pilot slipped away, leaving only the chilled breeze from the open door, in his wake.

Looking down at her hand, she caught sight of the deep crimson stain that was smeared across her palm, and shuddered involuntarily as she realized it was on the same hand that had steadied Heero before.

"Zechs, if you're up there, please...for Relena's sake...watch over Heero. And find a way to bring him back to us safely..."

END

Well, as always, I hope you liked this little episode. There is a bit more that I would like to do, but time just has not been kind to me today. I guess some things were not meant to be. Please let me know what you thought of this one, I am anxious as ever to read anything you have to say. Thanks for tuning in. Keep your eyes open, more is on the way!