The two of them had just made it.
Suzaku, for all his 'tough guy'-ness, was wearing a pink shirt. Lelouch remembered that he had intended to make fun of it, but considering how Suzaku was driving earlier...It was best the deposed prince kept his mouth shut.
The chick had been safely returned to its nest, all thanks to Suzaku's incredible physical ability and Lelouch's crafty plan to escape the Kururugi Shrine compound. Unfortunately for the Britannian child, the way back was rather strenuous.
"If," he panted, halfway up the rock face, "I knew this way was going to be so troublesome I would have planned a different route..."
"Just take my hand," Suzaku answered, extending his short arm out.
Lelouch did.
And the world exploded.
The dark-haired boy found himself sailing through the air, before gravity won and rocks and dirt ground into him, barely a cushion for his fall. He felt his shirt tear from the sharper pieces, and one of his suspenders snapped. Rolling to a stop, Lelouch grit his teeth determinedly, arms shielding his face and eyes. The crackle of fire in the background continued. Seconds crawled by slowly, but once Lelouch had his breath back he tried to move.
Pain seared through his back. The child could only lay awkwardly on his side, unclenching his teeth to take shivering breaths of dust. His left arm hurt like hell too—there was a numbness further down that Lelouch did not want to think about.
"Ru...ru.."
He didn't know how he could hear it through all that pain, but Lelouch heard the first two syllables of his name, as it was pronounced in Japanese, as clear as day. Remembering how the twisted version of his name used to annoy him, Lelouch couldn't help the small giggle that escaped him at the thought of how glad he was to hear it now.
"Suzaku!" Immediately he fell into a fit of coughs, mouth tasting of dirt. He couldn't see anything besides the tops of trees...fanned by flames. Gasping, Lelouch wildly scanned his surroundings, looking for any sign of a pink shirt.
Dust settled some more, and his clouded view stretched a bit further. His right hand twitched; he could not even find the energy to brush his eyes out. Despite the slow disappearance of dust, his vision only seemed foggier than before. "Suzaku...where..." Each word constricted his throat tighter and tighter, until Lelouch could barely whisper what he wanted to say. "Are..."
He caught sight of the hand first. The right hand that reached out to help him up before now lay on the earth, short, stubby fingers curling and uncurling as if reaching for something. The middle finger was stained with blood.
Lelouch could see the shirt, illuminated by the red glow of flickering flames, and realized not all of the red belonged to light alone. Suzaku seemed to be looking at him with the same horror too; Lelouch had no idea how he looked, but he couldn't move his legs.
His nails dug into the ground and dragged his arm forward, clawing desperately towards the hand that reached out just as desperately for him. Green locked with violet, and each pulled forward, despite the great distance between them.
They never stopped looking at each other.
They had been in the southwest area of ghetto, if he remembered correctly. Suzaku hurriedly plowed the Lancelot through more rubble, trying to keep an eye on all his external cameras at once. Smoke and dust clouded his view, but he needed to find them.
"Suzaku-kun, the mission is over. You can return now."
"I'm sorry, Cecille-san, but could I stay out a little longer? I'm...searching for someone important."
"...All right. Just keep an eye on the energy filler. When it starts to run low, come back immediately."
"I will...Thank you."
Lelouch would have searched for a way out...He'd know how to stay safe...
Lancelot leapt towards higher ground, choosing to scale the mountains of debris instead of maneuvering around it. Far away, Suzaku heard the dying explosions. The sounds of fighting ceased, leaving an eerie silence that pressed on him urgently.
This way—!
His hands were slick with sweat beneath the gloves. Suzaku felt his heart pounding exceptionally hard—the foreboding feeling would not go away, no matter how much he willed it or how many positive thoughts he packed over it. He had to trust Lelouch was capable of handling himself, no matter what happened.
And then his camera spotted it.
"No..."
A gaping hole in the side of a warehouse of some sort, ragged around the edges. Small beams of light illuminated the dark space within; the view zoomed and the sensors fixed onto the prone body lying in the midst of shadows.
"No..."
Suzaku ignored the warning beep of the Knightmare Frame indicating the low levels of the energy filler. He did not even bother pulling the key out, merely opening the cockpit in a heated rush. Before the seat was even completely ejected the Japanese teenager had climbed out; he jumped the last five feet, the painful landing not deterring him from rushing forward at the moment he touched ground. He raced on, heart exploding in his chest.
"Lelouch!"
The cry went unanswered. For Suzaku's boots skidded to a stop next to a body lying on top of no small amount of blood. The soldier fell to his knees, red liquid seeping into the fabric of his suit—but he didn't care, because—
Tears rolled down his cheeks, and the first sobs spilled from his choked throat. Glassy violet eyes stared blankly ahead, all the more accusing in their lifelessness. Suzaku's trembling hands brushed the blood-caked strands of hair down, to hide that hole in the middle of his best friend's forehead.
He heard the tinkling laughter and the irritable clapping of the other Geass user. For a moment he rebelled, ire rising with indignant annoyance. How dare Mao—
The doors of the tram slid shut after Mao's footsteps, and after a hiss the machine rumbled downwards, away from the two bodies lying on the steps. Silence blanketed the scene after the last vestiges of the engine died away, too far for Lelouch to hear.
Shirley had missed his heart, but the gunshot wound didn't hurt any less.
She hit her own temple with much more precision.
In the first few seconds, when Mao was still here and laughing with amusement, Lelouch bent his head back and could only gape at the growing puddle of red under orange. The blood slowly seeped over the edge of the concrete and dripped down, the trails reaching for him in accusing tendrils. He couldn't see her face, her curtain of hair having obscured his sight. Only her hand, the trembling hand now still, hung limply over her side, gun clenched in a deathgrip.
I'll kill him, vowed Lelouch. I'll order him to shoot himself in the knees, in his stomach, his arms—I'll make him kill himself over and over again, I swear—
His vision blurred. Lelouch blinked, wondering if something had gotten into his eyes. Why was it so hard to see? He thought he wasn't bleeding that much, but apparently—
Beeeeep! Beeeeep!
Lelouch's eyes travelled away from the gruesome setup above him and to the side where he dropped his phone, no more than a foot from his head. The device continued ringing, the microphone twisted out and ready for use. His fingers dragged along the ground—gods, it was so hard to move—and two blood-stained ones pressed the speaker button, pulling the device closer to his head. "Hello?" he breathed, the word stumbling from his mouth out of habit.
"Lelouch?"
"Suzaku." The name spilled from his lips in a tone of relief. "When...When...did you get a phone..."
"Just today," Suzaku replied. "I wanted to call you first, before anyone else. Lelouch, are you okay? You sound strange."
"Suzaku...promise me, no matter what, that you'll take care of Nunnally?" His voice cracked on his sister's name.
"Lelouch?! What's wrong? Where are you?" The ex-prince heard faint thuds over the phone, indicating Suzaku's shoes pounding on whatever surface happened to be unfortunate.
"Just promise me," he half-whispered. Lelouch hoped Suzaku could hear him. "Just promise me you'll take care of her like I would."
"Don't stop talking," Suzaku said fiercely. "Don't stop talking, I'll be there—Where are you?"
The edges of his vision were going black. "Please, Suzaku."
"No. No, okay? Don't say things like that to me. You're going to be okay, you'll take care of Nunnally like you have since...You'll be here! Don't tell me to do your job for you! Lelouch? Are you there? Lelouch!"
C.C. knew it the moment it happened.
"Lelouch!"
Notes:
Thanks to the sound file translation that told the story of Suzaku, Lelouch, the chick, and Suzaku's driving abilities as taught by video games. (Which means they're nonexistent.)
The first instance? Theoretically pilots shouldn't be wasting bombs on a mountain, but heck, anything can happen. Including bad, screwed up pilots. My original thought was, damn, what kind of irony would it be if it were Jeremiah who blew them up? And he would see them after his mistake—a rookie pilot then, and he would feel terrible about it. However, I left it as is because it seemed best that way.
Keep in mind these were written on the spur, without any corrections whatsoever...
The second one...There's actually kind of nothing to say about that one. Except that it might as well have never happened, because the chances of the Lancelot needed on the battlefield is pretty much zero if Lelouch kicked the bucket. I had also considered having C.C. saunter in and tell a stricken Suzaku that Britannians killed his best friend, and then pop him a Geass. But hello? Lelouch is dead. Geassing anyone wouldn't help.
A large part of laziness comes from liking the tragic endings.
The third is kind of short. I wanted to make it longer, but the words ran out and here it ends. I think the third ended up too much like a scene from a B-grade movie, you know with what the cheesy, dying phone call and asking for a promise at the end. Originally I was going to leave C.C. out of it, but that seemed like a good way of showing that Lelouch died.
Come to think of it, this seems like a compilation of "How Lelouch could have died in his seventeen years of Life", which isn't what I intended...
At this point, it's recommended that the whole series has been watched already, because the later ones will have spoilers. No, really, as if this one didn't.
Code GEASS: Lelouch of the Rebellion does not belong to me.