Well, howya all? Hiya again, I'm back. With another oneshot when I should be writting the new chapters to some of my half dead fics. Yeah, I'll get around to that ... er ... eventually. Till then, hope y'all enjoy this. A look into Luna's head as she packs up her sister's belongings. Hope y'all enjoy!
Disclaimer: Hm,if I get all the surgery done, and hypnotise the director into believing he's a cat, then maybe I'll own. But, unfortunatly, that can't be done. So, no, I don't own.
It was something straight out of every nightmare that had plauged her every night after she'd joined the military. It was the sort of thing that had caused her to wake up screaming for the first few nights of real battle.
But Meyrin had always been safe in bed then. Her breathing deep and easy, red hair fanned messily across the pillow. She'd still been alive.
But not now. Now the bed was empty. All that was left was a box of belongings, and a small green hat perched on top of it. Those would be sent back to her, their mom and dad. The bed was empty, devoid of the person that had once been there. There was nothing left. The clothes and belongings in the box looked like they belonged to somebody else, though she remembered a picture when they'd both been wearing the white hats.
Meyrin had always looked better in the hat, something about the way she smiled and cocked her head just made it look that much cuter. But it just didn't look like Meyrin's hat now. She sighed, though it came out as a half stiffled sob that sounded remarkably like someone trying to strangle a cat, and pushed the soft white material on top of the small pile in the box.
The box weighed down her arms as she walked down the corridors towards Cpt. Gladys' office. The ten minute walk from her room to the door of the captains office seemed to take hours, and her breathing came out in pants by the time she'd knocked.
The room seemed smaller now, not like the last time she'd been here. Back then, the room had seemed too big. Now everything in the room seemed to revolve around the cardboard box in her arms. Gladys herself was sitting behind her desk, staring absently at another box, almost identical to the one in Luna's arms. Athrun's belongings. The box was so much smaller. Athrun obviously hadn't had that much to lose.
But Meyrin did, you bastard! She had everything to lose!
The sob was inaudible this time, but tears pricked her eyes to fill in the space for noise. But she couldn't cry, not in front of the captain. The older woman, however, didn't seem to notice anything. She gestured mechanically for Luna to put Meyrin's box next to Athrun's.
The best graves the military were willing to fork out for. She bit her lip and turned to walk out, planning to make a beeline for a phone. She needed to call her parents before the stuff was sent. They were going to need an emotional preping for that. And, quite frankly, she wanted her mom and dad to comfort her. She needed her family now like she needed Meyrin to walk in through that door.
But part of her also dreaded calling them. Because they were going to curse Athrun as far into the depths of hell as possible. And she didn't want that, though she'd spent the night before doing much the same thing. She'd screamed enough for the three of them. She felt his family deserved some time with what was left of him, without someone shouting at the top of their lungs for him to burn in hell.
And then she stopped. Athrun didn't have family ... and there was no way in hell that Orb were going to accept a ZAFT soldiers belongings. Where was his stuff going?
Gladys looked up at her when she turned round. The question left her lips before she even had time to think about it. She had to know ...
The older women sighed. "Someone up at the PLANT has requested that Mr Zala's things be sent to her. Apparently her husband used to be on the council and still has some influence. He heard about it and his wife wanted to have the personal items of Mr Zala. Ms Amalfi, I believe her name is. Now, go call your family, Lunamaria, I'm sure they want to hear from you."
Luna nodded, and took one last, long look at the small green hat sitting so innocently on top of her sister's things. The last remains of a soldier, of her sister, of one of her greatest friends. Athrun's stuff didn't get a second glance. Let that Ms Amalfi mourn the death of a traitor.
She turned and walked out of the room, preparing for hysterics and much crying on her mother's part. For her father to be stone cold and use Athrun's name and several curse words in the same sentance.
And she wished more than anything that it was Meyrin making this call. Meyrin, who was so much better at handling this sort of thing. Meyrin, the one she'd become a pilot to protect.
It should be Meyrin making this call. I'm the one who should be dead.
Or it should just be Athrun.
Well, whatcha think? There may be a sequel with Ms Amalfi's thoughts, does anyone know that women's first name, but until then, R&R?