Well, I've found that I can't keep saying I'm working on things without providing a little proof...

This is my first Code Geass story, so I hope you'll all be kind to me...

In Love With His War

Fandom: Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion

Teaser: "I was I love with a man who was at least half-way in love with his war. And, being as I loved this man and wanted to protect him, I took center stage in his war and I played for keeps."

Inspiration: I was re-watching the entire series with my elder brother and fell in love with the characters all over again. I wanted to create a world in which some of those characters need not die.

Rating: M! Because you can't spell "Lamperouge" without it! lol

Warnings:
-Language
-Violence
-Character Death
-Forgotten/neglected pasts

Main Pairing: Suzaku/Lelouch

Minor Pairings:
-Kallen/Gino
-Lloyd/Cecile
-Suzaku/Euphemia

Setting: AU! A relatively rough city... New York-esque

POV: It's Suzaku's tale, this time.

Summary: Suzaku is a street kid doing anything to make his life a little easier. One day, the daughter of a powerful businessman finds him and takes him in. He lived and worked for her for three months before he found out she was the sister of his childhood friend, but his patron dies a month later and Suzaku is kidnapped by a mysterious cloaked man.
What will his abductor do with him, who is the Earl of Pudding, and what of the mysterious gray-clocked Toudou from Suzaku's past?

Additional ANs: The summary hides bits of the story, but that's the point: I've gotta surprise you sometimes! 3
This story promises to be lengthy, so keep watching for more from them!
Also, just warning you all, but I'm freaking crazy, so most anything could happen…

"Oh, c'mon, pretty boy," a man mocked me as he and his three friends circled me. The one crooning at me was average in height, looks, and hair. One of his friends had stringy black-brown hair, one had mismatched eyes, and the last was not a very attractive bleach-bottle blond. They were all of a very average but slight build, with little muscle-tone to detect. "Give it up, kid. You're outnumbered and out-gunned."

Thankfully, the guns he referenced were purely figurative, or I would have been in deep trouble. As it was, given the element of surprise and their over-confidence, I figured I could win. I was a great deal more physically fit that I appeared which always gave me a certain advantage, but I could also tell that they were less fit than they seemed, so I had double the edge.

Still, four-against-one odds are nothing to scoff at.

Unfortunately for me, I was surprised when the stringy-haired man rushed me with a knife. He sliced through my shirt –damn it all, it had been my favorite one!– and my skin, but I ignored the stinging pain in favor of raising my knee to meet his solar plexus. Stringy-Hair doubled over and Average and Blondie rushed to his aid. I turned my attention to the man who hadn't moved. Mismatched Eyes was still blinking in surprise that their prey had fought back, so I kicked him in the groin –hey, there are no cheap shots when someone brings a knife to a fist-fight– and then propelled his body backwards with another kick. That gave me enough of an opening to run part-way up the narrow alley's wall and bounce between the two walls far enough to be out of harm's way for the moment. Then I ran out to the street to look for a good place to hide until the stopped looking for me.

My eyes caught on a store. Just by looking at the shop window, I could tell that the majority of its patrons were women and that I couldn't afford a damn thing in there, so it made a perfect hiding place because they wouldn't even consider looking in there. I ducked inside the store and hurried to the overly-expensive men's clothing to at least blend in as best I could. I bent my head, as though intently looking over each shirt that cost more than I made in a year when I was working, but I watched the window out of the corner of my eyes to see if I could leave this place any time soon.

A soft, feminine hand landed on my arm and I tried hard not to flinch or jerk away. "Excuse me, sir?" asked a soft, pretty voice. "Are you alright?"

I turned to see who had asked me such a question. She had big, beautiful blue eyes and cotton-candy pink hair pinned up in an elegant style, accompanied by a charming smile. "Uh, yeah," I responded. "Why do you ask?"

"You're bleeding, and quite a bit, too."

I looked down and realized my bleeding hadn't stopped. Most of my shirt was moist with the crimson flow. "Oh, wow," I breathed out, finally noticing the pain.

She gently grabbed my wrist and pulled me, her purchases forgotten on the counter behind us.

"Miss Britannia. Miss Britannia!" the clerk called after us as the woman easily maneuvered me toward the door. "Miss Britannia, what about your purchases?"

"Send them to my home," she commanded. "This man needs medical attention faster than I need new shoes." And with that, she pulled me out the door and into the back of a dark sedan that had to have been waiting for her. "Mr. Darlton, take me home. Please hurry," she ordered the man behind the wheel.

"Of course, m'lady. Might I inquire as to why we are in a rush?" he asked as he pulled away from the curb easily.

"This man needs medical attention. Please hurry, Mr. Darlton."

"Yes, m'lady." I could feel the rapid acceleration as he obeyed her order.

"What's your name?" she asked me.

"Suzaku," I told her, hissing out a breath when I realized how much it hurt to even say my name. I didn't add my surname because it hurt enough already and I didn't need any more pity than I was already receiving.

"Hi, Suzaku," she greeted me. "I'm Euphie. What happened to you?"

"Got in a fight." I grimaced. "Four men. Thought they had the best of me until I got away."

"I see. Where do you live, Suzaku?"

"On the streets. Seven years, now." I drew in a hasty breath and tried to ignore the pain.

She made a sound of acknowledgement. "Are you working?"

"When I can. Not currently."

She smiled at me. "Well then. Let's get you taken care of. Mr. Darlton, please call Sir Guilford to help you bring Suzaku in the house. Take him to my room and send in the first aid kit."

She stayed with me and held my hand as Darlton and Guilford carried me into the house and up the wide staircase. My eyes had drifted shut when I'd stopped trying to converse and worked only at blocking out the pain, but that gentle hand pushed the hair out of my eyes and stroked my cheek until I was laid to rest on a soft mattress. I felt a sharper sting of pain so excruciating I wanted to cry out before I felt the darkness seize me.

I dreamed of stepping on clouds and laughing with the moon and smiling at a man with dark violet eyes that made me feel warm and safe.

I awoke some time later to find myself looking up at the pink-draped canopy of a four-poster bed. I tried to sit up, only to have a man with long, straight dark hair and classes ease me back down again.

"Be careful," he told me. "You don't want to pull your stitches. Sir Weinberg, could you please tell Lady Euphemia her guest is awake?" he asked a blond man who had been hovering in a corner.

"Yes, of course, Sir Guilford," Weinberg replied genially. "Lady Euphemia will be very pleased."

I could only guess that 'Lady Euphemia' was the young woman who'd introduced herself to me as 'Euphie'.

Euphemia Britannia. The name clicked somewhere in my head.

Back when I had actually attended school, my father had been in the process of brokering a very important deal with Charles Britannia. However, my father had died suddenly in the middle of the deal. After that, my problems had grown much bigger than fighting with Lelouch –my very best friend at the time– or deciding whether to have Rivalz and Lelouch over at my house or to go to Rivalz's. My eyes fell closed again as I tried to remember what both boys had looked like.

I couldn't decide why the Britannians always made me think of Lelouch. He'd been my first real friend, and as far as I knew, he had no connection to the Britannian family. I must be associating the two with that time in my life, I supposed to myself. Either that or it's those violet eyes…

I opened my eyes again when I felt a gentle hand on my arm.

"Suzaku?" Euphie asked, her blue eyes full of worry.

"Yeah?" I tried to remember the last time I'd been worried over like this.

"You had me a bit worried for a while, there. You were out cold by the time I realized the extent of your wounds. Miss Cécile had to stitch you up."

I smiled at her. "Sorry to worry you. I hadn't realized how bad it was until you said something. I'm lucky; if I had gone back as I had intended, I probably would have bled to death. Thank you for your care, ma'am."

"Euphie," she corrected. "I'm just a passing, normal woman who took care of you."

I laughed at that. "Euphemia Brittania, I doubt you're anything close to normal. Although, it seems as though our families can't get away from each other, even after seven long years."

She cocked her head. "What happened seven years ago? It's the second time you've mentioned that."

I gave her a cool, emotionless smile while I pondered just how much to tell the youngest claimed daughter of the world-renowned businessman. "Genbu Kururugi brokered a deal with Charles zi Britannia," I told her, like I was reciting facts from a history book. "Unfortunately, Genbu died before the deal was finalized, leaving all of his estate to his recently orphaned ten-year old son. Do you recall his name, Euphemia?"

"Kururugi's son was names… Suzaku…" I thought I could drown in the tears that were suddenly pouring down her lovely face at her realization. "Oh, god, you're Suzaku Kururugi… my brother described you to me once, a long time ago… but you're still exactly as he described you. What happened? What happened to you?"

"What usually happens when someone leaves a multi-million dollar corporation to a minor? Greedy relatives crawled out of the woodwork, each of them wanting a piece of it. It's been seven years of familial war, during which the only assets I had to live on were in legal limbo. I couldn't live with any of the family members with suits in progress or with my lawyer, Miss Nagisa. So I lived where I could: squatting in abandoned buildings, living with packs of street kids that chose to band together to watch each other's backs, or staying in shelters."

The look on her face overflowed with pity. "I'm so sorry, Suzaku."

"That's why I didn't tell you before. To know my tale is to pity me, but pity won't keep me safe and fed, Miss Euphemia." I was quite resigned to my fate, but I still clung to that haughty pride my father had bred into me. I lived as best I could. One more year and all the legal garbage would be obsolete. One more year and I would be out of the hell-hole my life had become. I could make it one more year.

"What about legal emancipation?" Sir Guilford asked softly.

"While it's a viable legal action, I certainly don't have the funds to do it. My lawyer has kept this going so many years without ever seeing very much money from me. She's poured a lot of her own funds into this fight, too, but I'm unable to even choose someone to live with without having to deal with repercussions." Legal emancipation sounded so wonderful, but I had no way to make it happen.

Euphemia offered me a loving smile and I found myself unnerved by it. Beautiful, well-bred, high society "pacifist princess" or not, the woman had no business wearing such an expression and directing it toward me. I was the bad luck charm of anyone who dared love me, from my parents to my friends.

Weinberg –Sir Weinberg, I suppose– noticed my discomfort but had no way to guess its source. He ruffled my hair with a strange sort of familiarity and tenderness. I found it oddly comforting and soothing, considering the man was probably not much older than myself. When his strong, warm fingers moved to message my temples, I felt my eyelids droop. It was stupid, but the solid warmth and comfort in Sir Weinberg's touch made me feel something I hadn't felt in a long time: safe.

God, just telling my tragedy-laced story was exhausting!

They won't mind if I sleep here just a bit longer, I rationalized as my eyelids became too heavy to lift. I feel so safe and warm here. They won't mind… Just a while longer… Just let me absorb the sensations I've missed so much…

Telling my sob-story to Charles zi Britannia's littlest princess was an act of sheer stupidity. I found it quite ironic that my mind processed this thought to the forefront of my brain when I woke up, even before I'd opened my eyes. I couldn't imagine why until I heard that deep, distinctively resonant rumble of a voice.

"How could you even know if he was Genbu Kururugi's son?" Charles demanded. "People will lie to you and use your nature against you –and against this family." There was something in the way he said it that out-and-out stated that the family's safety was more important than hers. I wisely kept my eyes and my mouth shut on the matter.

"He's just as frère described him, Father," Euphemia told him calmly. It took me a moment to register the word: it was 'brother' in French. I couldn't help but wonder which of the eleven 'princes' I'd had enough contact with that she could have recognized me from his description, but I was distracted when she continued. "You can see for yourself when he wakes again. But if he is Genbu's son, like he's said," –her her voice turned steely– "then you have to help him."

Sir Weinberg came charging to my aid. "Could you please not argue so loudly, your majesties? You'll wake our patient."

I was starting to wonder if he'd appointed himself to be my caring, warm knight, but I quickly dismissed the idea. Besides, Weinberg had some serious stones if he was shushing Charles zi Britannia! I smothered a grin that wanted to split my face. Had to remain undetected and all that.

I could hear the soft sound of approaching footsteps long before I heard the light knock at the doorway.

"Yes?" Charles demanded, knowing that no one in his household or among his followers who would dare deny him.

"Sir, I need to check his bandages and his stitches. We need to make sure they are kept clean and dry," a soft voice informed the man who was known to bring CEOs to their knees to beg of his mercy.

"You have impeccable timing, Cécile. I was about to wake the patient to ask him a few questions," Charles pronounced. Where the first sentence showed a bit of affection, the second one clearly implied a less-than gentle questioning for me.

"His health comes before your questions, Your Majesty," she returned primly. "You don't want to have him pass out when you interrogate him, correct?"

Charles did the last thing I would have ever expected: he grumbled, but he caved to her. She was less than a slip of a woman, judging by her footsteps, but she could chastise Charles zi Britannia and be obeyed. I couldn't wait to meet her.

"You Majesty, could you please leave the room? I find that some men would rather the whole world not see their bodies and scars." Miss Cécile's voice was obviously the calm wind in the midst of the tornado. Though I was curious of the storm, obeying was still the very best option.

Charles conceded yet again, to my enjoyment, and I heard his heavy and powerful footsteps carry him out of the room.

Miss Cécile's hands immediately went to my bandaged abdomen, parting the shirt that I was sure had been borrowed from someone else –especially since I'd worn a t-shirt, not a dress shirt.

"At least by me dinner first, Miss Cécile," I greeted her calmly. "I'm not that kind of guy."

Sir Weinberg giggled like a school girl. "Would you look at that! The stealthy player reveals his advantage at last!"

I opened my eyes to look up at the lovely woman blushing over me, even though her hand was on my bare skin. "My apologies for startling you, Miss Cécile. I'm given to understand you stitched me up, so I thank you." I smiled at her. "I'm Suzaku. It's nice to meet you."

A flush colored her pale cheeks. Her face was surrounded by soft black-violet hair and her lavender eyes were full of warmth and caring. "It's nice to meet you, as well, Sir Suzaku."

"Ah, I'm not a Knight, Miss Cécile. Just a boy that Lady Euphemia had pity on." I knew how Britannia structured his underlings and I knew what each title indicated. As a child, I'd been confused by the titles, so my father had taken the time to explain it to me. I was lucky my memory served me well; honestly, it had been many years since I'd even thought of the Britannians.

She smiled. "If Lady Euphemia has her way, I believe you soon will be. Her will is almost as strong as His Majesty's."

I shook my head. "I've got my own troubles. There's no need to pull anyone else into mine or allow myself to be pulled into anyone else's."

Sir Weinberg sighed. "But you have such potential!"

I raised a brow. "How would you know?"

"Lady Euphemia told me about what you'd said about the fight."

"Trust me, Sir Weinberg, I got the worst end of that fight and I have the stitches to prove it." I winced when Miss Cécile pulled back the bandage and tsked.

"But you escaped four opponents and had the foresight to hide in a place they would never expect you to be!" Sir Weinberg sounded positively elated as he recalled the episode.

"You're forgetting the knife wound I sustained beforehand. A knight should never require a Lady's rescue. Ow!" I exclaimed.

"Sorry, Suzaku," Miss Cécile gave me a sympathetic smile. "It looks like you might have some infection in the wound. Do you know how it could have happened?"

"Well, the brute squad that came at me probably didn't sterilize the knife beforehand. Plus, I live on the street: it's not exactly conducive to cleanly living, although I'm wagering on the knife." I smiled slightly at her.

She gave a long-suffering sigh. "It seems I'll have to see if Lloyd has something for the infection. You're accumulating drainage around the wound, but so far it's been clear. It's better to be safe than sorry."

Sir Weinberg ruffled my hair. "Just be glad Lloyd didn't do your initial exam. His bedside manner is the stuff of horror stories."

At his cheerful smile, the muscles in my hand ached to punch him. Down boy, I cautioned myself wryly. Nothing screws up a conversation like breaking your hand on their jaw. "I'll keep that in mind. Sir Weinberg, would you be so kind as to stay when His Majesty questions me?"

"Ah, so you were awake to hear that, too. Yes, of course I'll stay, since you asked so nicely." He smiled again.

Miss Cécile absently leaned in and pressed her lips to my forehead. The gesture seemed so motherly that I could vaguely remember my own mother doing the same thing to check for fever when I was very young. "Make sure he doesn't over-exert himself and let me know if he gets feverish, Sir Weinberg," she commanded before taking her leave.

"Ah, she's a pistol," Sir Weinberg remarked. He was silent for a moment before asking, "Hey, Suzaku, why'd you ask me to stay?"

I wrinkled my nose. I felt safe with this smiling buffoon, but I couldn't tell him that! "I'd feel more comfortable with a familiar face, if that's alright with you."

His smile was more radient than the last few I'd seen. I got the feeling he was truly happy this time. "Oh, I don't mind. It makes me happy that you chose me to be your support."

I couldn't help but smile back at him, perhaps because I genuinely liked this smile. "Don't let it go to your head, Sir Weinberg.""

"Call me Gino," he instructed. "If we're to be friends, you shouldn't have to be so formal."

I raised my eyebrow at his 'friends' spiel, but consented anyway. "Alright. Gino."

There was that smile again. I sighed internally. It would only earn me a scolding from Miss Cécile if I broke my hand on his face. Plus, I genuinely liked him from what I'd seen of him. And he wanted to my friend. Despite my past relationship-challenged state, I knew that trying to break my hand on his face would not be a good way to stay on pleasant terms with the man.

But all the same, I was still very wary of letting people get close to me. Everyone I ever let myself love and anyone who allowed themselves to love me always seemed to suffer because of being acquainted with me. My mother had died when I was young. My father and I had just gotten back to being able to look at each other and carry on pleasant conversation when he'd died. Miss Nagisa's practice had all but halted when she took me on as a client. Any of the kids that took me in and taught me the ropes of street-life always ended up in a worse situation.

I kept myself alone to protect others. What would letting Gino in lead to? I resolved to never let him get too deeply, to really care about me, because that would leave him in the deepest pit of bad luck he'd ever known.

The door opened again and I heard the heavy, powerful footsteps from before. Gino reached out and touched my hand gently.

I sighed.

Let the interrogation begin.

That's all for chapter one, my dears.

I tried to stay true to the characters, yet I've changed their organization as I pleased...

Let me know what you think! Please review ^^

Ever at your pleasure,
~Sins~