Title: Trowa's Smile
Stega's Notes: This takes place when Trowa brings Heero to the circus to recover after self-detonating his Gundam, after episode 10 but before what happens in Episode 13. First chapter is abit short but I've got more to add, I'm just finishing it up. I'm not new to the game but I am afew years rusty so please be gentle when reviewing :0)
Pairings: 1x3
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction by a fan. All characters within are not my property.
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Obnoxious laughter erupted from the tent just as Trowa stepped past the open flap of the canvas door, into the light, then into the darkness again. His heart skipped a beat and his feet stopped moving. He licked then teethed his bottom lip and looked around the area carefully. Trees, tents, trucks, fire pit, nothing. Good. He suppressed his breathing for a moment so he could hear better and then waited. The laughs began to die down gradually from the occupants inside the tent, save for one shrill hyena's cachinnation which rang out irritatingly until silenced by a muffled oof sound. His heart was racing.
It can't possibly be me, Trowa told himself. But the fear was already starting in on him. They know I'm out here, I just know it.
A warm yet somehow stagnant-like breeze shared the darkness with the young Gundam pilot, at first disturbing the tents and trees only ever so slightly. It had been keeping the mosquitoes away in the evening, just barely, but in turn for it's service brought down a musty and brackish scent to the grounds the circus had set up camp in. Probably from a bog or something similar to the north, closer to the mountains. It had been causing more than afew people to lose their dinners the past few nights which was why everyone had been resigning to their tents and camper vans earlier and earlier each evening. Trowa was not one of them, atleast, not tonight. Although it was strangely hotter outside than it was inside his van. Lately he'd been finding it enjoyable to be out around the camp at night when no one else was around and all the drunken banter was consequently kept in canvas circus tents.
He could hear murmurs now, as if they were making a concerted effort to keep their voices low, as if they knew someone was 're talking about me. They think I should be replaced. They saw when my foot slipped at the performance today. They...
"Just go," Trowa whispered to himself in a weak and wavering voice, but he could hardly hear it. His heart seemed to be beating irregularly in his ears and the quieter everything else became around him, the louder the beating grew.
Another outburst of laughter startled Trowa enough to get his body working again. He skipped into a brisk walk and hurried through the maze of tan-coloured tents and cream-coloured vans and disappeared into the trees.
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There was no performance scheduled that day and the hours seemed to crawl by reluctantly. Most people were in a lazy funk due to the heatwave and there was very little choice when it came to entertainment on days like that. Socialize with friends or socialize with animals. Trowa had no friends and the animals were just as hot and bothered as the people were but locked in cages aswell. He thought about checking up on Heero again, who'd done little else but sleep since he had arrived at the camp and rightly so; he should've been dead. But the idea didn't seem too appealing to him at the moment.
Trowa sat on a metal fold-up chair inside the doorway of an otherwise unoccupied tent, with the door flap tied up loosely by rope to let the sunshine in which made him feel warm inside. He rocked back and forth awkwardly for awhile, digging each steel leg into the hard, packed dirt over and over. Catherine occasionally passed by and poked her head into the tent and every time she would smile that starry smile of her's and ask 'how're you doing, Trowa?' or 'what are you thinking about, Trowa?' or 'enjoying the sunshine today, Trowa?'. Each time he answered it was just enough to make her leave and not enough to make her stay. He usually didn't feel anything about being that way to her but today was turning out different than usual.
He could see the type of personality she was, or atleast thought he could. Friendly and bubbly but clearly very fragile. There was a mix of happiness and sadness in her eyes when she smiled and she didn't try hard to hide it. She seemed like the type of person who could easily be crushed which, in Trowa's mind, was all the more reason to keep their conversations together short and amicable. It wasn't a secret that she wanted to be friends but Trowa figured the more he politely pushed her away, the better off she'd be in the end. If she knew me, she wouldn't want to, Trowa thought. He often thought that way about anyone who tried to get too friendly.
However, there seemed to be more ice on his tongue today than normal and he suspected that he came off harshly with her today after her last drop by. She probably thinks I hate her now. The suspicion was turning into cold hard fact in Trowa's mind at an alarming rate. He had to find something to take his mind off such things right away so he kicked himself up out of the chair and marched outside.
Four men were talking animatedly at the fire pit several feet away, across from Trowa's tent. They appeared to be arguing but with grins on their faces, despite the humidity, and paid no attention as the secretive Gundam pilot, known only to them as Trowa, walked by. He disappeared into an adjacent camper van hoping to find some distraction.
The air inside was worse than any breeze from the bog but it didn't phase him. Heero laid lifelessly on a small cot which was positioned beside a small built-in table and modest window which had it's shutter drawn. His face glistened with sweat and the bandages around his arms and chest were noticeably damp. His brow was tense and gave the appearance of being uncomfortable but the way his mouth hung slightly open and he breathed steadily in and out of it seemed to tell that he was content enough in sleep to stay asleep. It was an almost relieving feeling for Trowa looking upon him in this state, because it was such a contrast to previous nights since he had arrived. The first two went smoothly and without incident, but by the third or fourth night Trowa was awoken from his sleep by various sounds of distress and screams coming from Heero's van so often that it was becoming a common occurrence. The people from the circus sometimes joked about it in closed tents now, rather than asking questions about the strange injured boy who did nothing but sleep all day and eat their food.
Trowa had to admit that he was curious about whatever the boy had so many nightmares about and had, once or twice, pictured himself standing over Heero while he was sleeping peacefully and shaking him to wake up so he could know. But he knew that no one like him, a teenaged boy, a Gundam pilot, a soldier of war for the colonies, would ever speak about the horrors he saw in his head when his eyes were closed. Atleast not to a stranger.
Realizing he was still standing, Trowa quietly took the seat against the wall and rubbed the back of his neck where it was beginning to cramp. His legs were bent awkwardly under the table since it was made for space conservation and not comfort. It brought on the feeling that he was impatiently waiting for something to happen, for Heero to come back to life. It has to be today, Trowa thought. How much longer can this really continue? The idea of shaking him offered itself again with a grin, but he knew couldn't go through with it. It wouldn't happen the way I see it. He would probably snap my neck in surprise or something.
Heero shifted onto his side in his sleep with his back against the wall of the camper van and more of his body was revealed as the blankets were disturbed. He was still wearing his black shorts which now peeked out from the sheets and the bandages wrapped around his torso ended just above his bellybutton while minor scrapes and bruises clearly continued down the side of his right hip. Trowa smiled knowingly. I guess Catherine is a little shy too. The private smile lingered on his face awhile while he thought briefly about Catherine voluntarily changing the dressings every day because she truly wanted to be of help. Although Trowa had suspected at first that she had ulterior motives for doing so, he didn't really care what, if any, they were now. I will not make it any of my business. This is for the best.
Trowa sighed loudly, expressing his boredom to no one but himself, and laid his head down in his arms on the table. The heat was really beginning to get to him and before he knew it he'd fallen asleep.
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