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Part 4
Trowa sat on the train, his dufflebag in the seat beside him. He was still in uniform, because he had been so dazed since he left the base, so lost in his own thoughts, that it hadn't occurred to him that he should change. He sat silently, and stared out the window at the lightening sky. Dawn was approaching, but rather than feeling joy at the coming of the day, he felt as though it only heralded the beginning of a new sort of hell. :I am a disgusting person,: he thought to himself for the fortieth time since leaving the base. :It doesn't matter that Treize is my enemy, I treated him like an object.: The betrayed look in the General's eyes haunted him. He could see it, in excruciating detail, every time he closed his eyes. Though he'd been awake all night, Trowa couldn't sleep on the train, for he feared his dreams. His past was chasing him, taunting him, promising torture the moment he surrendered to sleep. :I treated him the way I was treated. He wasn't an object for my pleasure, but I used his sexuality to further my own gains.: :I am a disgusting person.: There was no outward sign of his pain as he carefully and exactingly tortured himself. He was simply an OZ soldier, on leave, staring out at the dawn. :I don't deserve Quatre. I don't even deserve Treize, for what I've done. I'm no better than they were.: Briefly, for one moment, he played with the idea of not going back. He turned the possibility over and over in his mind, savoured its tempting flavour, but then discarded it. :I have to report on the mission. It's better that everything just go on as it has. Then I won't have to lose Quatre's friendship as well, and I won't betray the others. The way I betrayed him.: :I have to go back. I have to face them. That's how I'll atone for this.: :I wish I could ask Treize to forgive me.: He stared out at the brightening sunlight as it peeked out over the hills and didn't see it.
Quatre sat in a comfortable leather armchair, reading a newspaper and sipping delicately at a hot cup of tea. Wufei sat opposite him in the other armchair, reading from a bound tome whose cover was so faded that Quatre had no idea what it was. He could hear Duo's voice chattering at Heero in one of the bedrooms down the hall. They had moved recently into a four-bedroom condo and the rooms were clustered together at the end of a hallway that led from the main living area. It was a bright, open place and Quatre liked it, except for the empty room beside his, and opposite Wufei and Duo's. To distract himself from dark thoughts, Quatre tried to focus on what Duo was saying but he couldn't make anything out other than a name. Trowa. He put down his cup on the table at his elbow so suddenly it rattled. Wufei looked up from his book and shot him a questioning glance over his glasses. Quatre shrugged helplessly and shook his head, so Wufei went back to his reading. :Trowa, where are you?: Quatre thought with the usual twinge of despair. He couldn't understand the behaviour of the other three pilots over the last four weeks since Trowa had disappeared with a word. They had, sympathetically, apologetically, but firmly resisted any attempts by Quatre to determine where Trowa had gone, until he had been reduced to crying himself to sleep, certain that the HeavyArms pilot was angry at him for some reason. In his more sober moments, he knew that Trowa had simply gone on a mission, but he couldn't imagine why the other four pilots had been privy to the details while he was barred. It was driving him to distraction. :What if Trowa finishes his mission and can't find us here?: :No, I'm sure I heard Heero talking to him that time. He must know where we are.: :But what if-: His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the shrill buzzing of the intercom. Quatre dropped the newspaper onto the endtable and crossed to the door. He thumbed the button. "Hello?" he said politely, wondering if Duo had ordered a pizza again. There was a pause, then, "It's Trowa." Quatre's heart leapt into his throat. "Trowa!" he cried. "Come up! Come up!" He pressed the button that unlocked the door on the ground floor and turned around. He was practically jumping up and down with excitement. Wufei was standing, his book closed and clutched in his hands. "Wufei! Trowa's come back!" Quatre said, not because he thought the other pilot hadn't heard, but because he was so elated he had to tell someone. The Chinese pilot nodded soberly. "I'll inform the others." Quatre paced through the eternity of waiting for Trowa to enter the building, come up the elevator, and walk down the hall to the condo. The doorbell buzzed and Quatre threw open the door. It was an OZ soldier. Quatre halted and his hand dropped reflexively towards a gun that wasn't there. Then he blinked and it was Trowa again, albeit dressed in an OZ uniform. The blonde threw his arms around the other boy's neck. "Trowa! I'm so glad you're back! How are you?" Quatre said tearfully. Instead of returning the hug, Trowa stiffened and held himself motionless until Quatre released him awkwardly and backed away. Trowa walked slowly into the apartment, looking around dazedly. The other three pilots were clustered in the centre of the room. Wufei's arm encircled Duo's waist in an unconsciously protective gesture. In a distant voice, Trowa addressed the three Gundam pilots. "The mission was less than successful." Duo visibly winced, but said nothing as Trowa continued. "I was able to complete the objective, but I was discovered before I could collect much information and my disk was confiscated. I managed to discover that OZ is building or restoring a Gundam to combat us with. Its schematics look like a prototype of ours." He glanced down the hallway. "Is there a room for me?" Heero seemed to be the only one left who was capable of speech - which was quite surprising in and of itself. "Second door on the left is yours, Trowa." The HeavyArms pilot acknowledged that with a slow nod, then he walked to his room and closed the door. Heero, Duo, and Wufei exchanged significant and worried glances. It was too much for Quatre. "What happened to him?" he demanded with an anguished cry. As usual when he asked questions like this, they hunched their shoulders guiltily and avoided his gaze. Quatre's pale face darkened with rage. "No!" he shouted, startling them. "I will *not* be left in the dark anymore! Trowa is *hurt*! Now tell me what happened!" He could feel himself trembling with emotion and he returned the shocked stares of the others with a defiant glare. "Quatre," Heero said softly, implacably. "I think you had better ask him yourself. It's not our place to tell you." Heero's tone had the effect of cutting through the blonde pilot's rage and calming him down somewhat. He nodded, his fists uncurling. "Wakatta. That's just what I'll do." | |
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|Prologue| |Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3| |Part 4| |Part 5| |Epilogue| |