I got this idea the other day, and decided to run with it. I know that several stories on Lelouch's thoughts when he dies have been done already, but meh, I really wanted to write this. It's my first time writing Code Geass so I hope I was able to convey this without making Lelouch seem OoC. Please tell me what you think, and enjoy.
When God Falls
Pain overrode everything.
For the briefest of moments, all he could think of was the pain. The white-hot pain that shot through his skin, into his organs, throughout his whole body. And then he regained his vision and senses, just in time to realize he had no strength left.
His hand immediately went to the source of the pain. It made him panic for the slightest of moments when he found the sword still there; still through him. So he placed his hand under it, hoping that maybe being close to the wound would give him half the solace of having it on it.
"This is also a punishment for you.."
He wished he hadn't have had to say that. Regretted ever having to stain his best friend's hands with the blood of someone as filthy as himself. Regretted ever having met the boy again. Had they not had that fateful encounter, so much pain between the both of them would have been lost.
He finally found himself unable to balance-having simply let himself stand there and pray to not fall over-and let his head fall foreword to rest on the other's shoulder.
"You will be a defender of justice and wear a mask forever.."
Yes, masks were all they were made up of these days. He had lived the past few years behind countless masks. His true feelings and intentions never opened up to anyone but a silly witch who was arrogant beyond her time. Now he was forcing his best friend into the twisted fate he himself had sewn.
"You will no longer be able to live as Kururugi Suzaku.."
Another thing he had brought upon the only boy he had ever felt any friendly connection with. He had stripped him of all he had and replaced it with the tainted name of 'Zero'. The same name as the one the boy had been forever intent on destroying. The same name he himself had wore, and corrupted. The name he had schemed behind, and crushed countless dreams with. His hand removed itself from the wound and reached up to gently stroke the side of the mask. He would taint it once more, leave a mark that would fade, but not until polished away.
"You will sacrifice all of your own happiness for the world…eternally.."
Hadn't he wanted to do something like that once? Change the world at any cost, even if it meant betraying and destroying everything that mattered to him? Just as long as he would be able to live with his sister without fear that someone would use her. Now he was throwing that on someone else. Destroying the dreams and future of someone dear to him, molding it like he had all the other chess pieces he had so carelessly thrown across the board.
Perhaps in a sick, twisted way he really was doing that though. He had sacrificed his own happiness-her happiness-for the sake of a world he had hated. Once upon a time he would have laughed at the foolishness-the very selfishness of it all. But then he remembered that he himself was a vain and selfish man. A conniving man who crushed the lives of those he cared about even in the moments of his death.
He wanted to see her, just once more. Touch her, make her smile, know that she was still there with him, even as he left her alone once more. He had ruined Suzaku, but the one he felt he owed the biggest apology to, was her. After all that arrogant promising, he had still failed to keep up his end. The only promise he had ever truly wanted to keep (aside from all the promises he had made to Nunnally), had ever really planned on making reality, he was unable to honor.
The sword pulled out and he was left with an empty feeling. As if a whole part of him was gone entirely. And yet all he still thought about was her.
A step, another, the pain would go away if he just continued to walk. If he continued until he reached her, touched her face, spoke all the words of repentance he could ever find it in his pride to speak. If he was able to see her last, then he would finally deem his job done. Not done really, but as completed as he had been able to do it.
His legs gave out and he felt himself falling foreword. He didn't recognize the new pain in his knees, nor the feeling of flipping over and sliding down the ramp. All he could think about was reaching her.
It was only when she spoke, not the one he really wanted to see, but the girl he had dedicated his whole world to for the majority of his life, that he realized where he still was. He felt her touch his hand and knew immediately she was able to see everything. He hated it at once, but hadn't the strength to show it or object to her touch. Another person he loved tainted, another life who might have it in their heart to miss him while he was gone. At least he could pretend his sister's hand held her compassion as well.
Nunnally's crying brought him back for a moment and he smiled softly.
He remembered, all of it. The beginning, the black knights, the pain, the suffering, and all the lives he destroyed. And then he remembered the goal he had strived for. Mercilessly and recklessly ran after. And he remembered his childhood.
She came to mind again. Perhaps she would be able to remember him from the world he was able to create. Perhaps…perhaps she would miss him. He imagined she was behind Nunnally, same haughty expression, and then closed his eyes.
He was so tired, he wanted nothing more than to rest. But he had to say something first. If he could say it, then perhaps it would reach her.
So many perhaps, and yet he wished with all he had that they would come true.
"CC," he whispered, followed shortly by that name he had fallen in love with as soon as he had heard it.
A wave of satisfaction washed over him and he became fine with the ending he had produced. Lelouch then closed his eyes and rested.
She had just exited the doors of the church when she fancied she heard her name. A moment later, she swore she heard his voice say that name she had always wanted someone to call. It was tender, warm, loving. And he had said it too late.
CC placed the pads of her fingertips against the church door and allowed herself sorrow once more.