Unexpected
by Maria Rocket
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[Author's Notes: So continues my sad excuse for a Quatre/Dorothy mini-series. ^^; Yep, this is the sequel to "Uninvited" and "Unseen," but it can be read on its own. This takes place towards the end of Endless Waltz. I'm sure you can figure it out. ^_^; And after this, there'll be one last part. Oh yeah, and one last thing...if you don't like Dorothy, especially with Quatre, please do us both a favor and just don't read it. I'm going to continue writing what I want, whether it's Quatre with Dorothy, or Quatre with Trowa, or Quatre with an exotic space alien. ^_^;; Peace!]
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***
The scene was chaos. The streets were filled with mobile suits, standing, or strewn in various pieces. And people were swarming everywhere, stopping the huge machines in their tracks. It was chaos, but the pilots of now stilled gundams knew that it would soon give birth to order.
"It appears our fight is finished at last," Trowa murmured from within Heavyarms' cockpit.
"Man, I've never seen anything like it," Duo said almost to himself.
"Did anyone see what happened to Heero?" Quatre yelled over the din of people. He removed one stiff hand from Sandrock's control stick and wiped the beaded sweat from his exposed forehead. Then he replaced it loosely and carefully lowered his gundam to one knee. He was grateful that for once, the people had come to their aid instead of the other way around. And especially when they did. Sandrock had taken so much damage that it was barely operational, and he knew the other gundams, and Zechs and Noin's mobile suits were little better off. Just a few moments longer, and they all would have been killed by Mariemaia's troops. But Wing Zero had blown itself apart with its own power, and now Heero was nowhere to be seen.
"Afraid not," Trowa responded hesitantly.
"There's nothing more we can do here," Quatre snapped off his harness with a grimace. "I'm going out to look for him."
"Hold on, I'm coming too!" Duo quickly chimed in. "Trowa, you okay here?"
"I'll be fine."
"Like he said," Zechs finally spoke, "it's over."
"Right." Quatre stood as Sandrock's cockpit hissed open, pushing himself into a blast of icy wind. After the heat of battle, it was refreshing, even though it raised his skin. He swung onto Sandrock's pulley cord, and descended from the gundam to the ground.
He turned to see Duo already running towards the scrap heap that had been Wing Zero, his braid whipping out behind him. Ignoring the sleet stinging at his eyes, Quatre hurried after him. Winding past a building that had collapsed as a result of the fighting, his eyes caught sight of movement towards the very edge of the rubble. As he ran closer, he saw that it was person lying face down, covered in snow and debris, trying unsuccessfully to get back up. Quatre looked back towards Duo's retreating form.
Deciding that Duo could handle the search for Heero alone, he ran towards the fallen person. Kneeling, he saw that it was a girl with very long blonde hair. He could tell from the trail of blood in the snow that she had dragged herself out from beneath the collapsed structure. Carefully, he put his arms around her to help her off the ground.
"I've got you," he pulled her towards him as she threatened to slip from his grasp. "Don't worry, I'm going to..." His eyes widened in shock as she lifted her head.
He was looking into the stormy blue eyes of Dorothy Catalonia. Her face was rosy from the cold, and scuffed with dirt and scratches. He felt her hands tighten on his arm as she recognized him.
"Quatre?" Her voice was weak, and he barely heard her over the rising wind and the surrounding crowd of people. "What are you doing here?"
The pilot's throat was dry, and he swallowed harshly. "I came to help."
"Then go help," Dorothy struggled uselessly. "I'll manage from here."
"You can't even walk," Quatre held her firmly. "I'm taking you out of here." Despite her faint protests, he moved to scoop her completely off the ground. He froze as she hissed in pain.
Slowly lowering her again, he removed one hand and found it covered in thick red. Her leg was soaked with blood, staining the ripped material of her clothing and the dirty snow beneath them. With a pained expression, Quatre gingerly touched her exposed thigh, which was torn and bleeding badly.
Dorothy flinched and bit back a moan of agony as he applied pressure to the wound. She barely noticed when he took her hand to replace his own. "I know it hurts, but try to stop the bleeding. I'm going to get you to a hospital as fast as I can."
Despite the fear that welled up in him at her soft cries of pain, he lifted her off the ground, cradling her in his arms. Then he started running. He didn't know where the hospital was, but he prayed it was somewhere close. But wherever it was, the only way through the city was through the throngs of people in the streets.
Everywhere he turned, he was pushed and shoved. Making his way through was even more difficult than the mobile suit battle had been. He couldn't even see where he was going. All he knew was that he had to keep moving. He fought his way through, taking no time for apology or caution. Dorothy was shivering in his grasp, bleeding to death.
When someone caught him firmly by the arm, he tried pulling away. When he couldn't break the hold, he turned with a growl of anger. He was breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest. His only reaction upon finding Sally Po there was to narrow his eyes. He didn't have time for talk!
"Quatre, what happened?" Sally looked down from Quatre to Dorothy, who had fallen unconscious. "Oh my... Quick, give her to me, I'll get her to the hospital." She moved to lift Dorothy from Quatre.
"No, I'll take care of her!" Quatre jerked back. He didn't dare let Dorothy go. He felt as though he were holding onto her very life with his bare hands. "Please, just tell me where to go!"
He couldn't hear her reply, but he saw her point towards a large building in the distance. Instantly he was running again, completely focused on his goal. He held onto Dorothy as if his life depended on keeping her tight against him. Despite the cold, sweat streamed down his face as his feet pounded on the black, grey, and dirty white gritty street.
"We're almost there," he gasped, forcing himself to move faster. "Almost..." He could see the bright lights of the hospital just ahead. Only a few more feet...
Then two police officers were standing directly in front of him, blocking his way. "What the hell!?" Quatre's face snapped up towards them, his dark blue eyes flashing dangerously. He saw them looking down at him, clearly suspicious of the boy wearing pilot goggles. Then their eyes fell on Dorothy, who was limp in his arms. She was deathly pale, which contrasted sharply to the bright red stains smeared across both herself and Quatre.
"Oh God, another one..." One of the officers glanced around anxiously. "You'll have to wait here while I see if any of the medical staff is available. We can't just let anyone inside with all this going on..."
"She can't wait! Please, let us in or she'll die!" Quatre pleaded.
The other officer scowled towards the other, then waved at Quatre. "Alright, go ahead. I'd rather not see anyone else die in front of me."
Quickly thanking them, Quatre hurried inside.
***
Inside a dark hospital room, there was finally escape from the constant noise outside. The only sounds now were the quiet beeps and hums of the medical equipment attached to Dorothy, and soft breathing. Beyond the bed where she lay, snow was drifting by the window. Sitting beside the bed, Quatre held his goggles on his lap in tense fingers. His attention was focused on the sleeping patient.
She still hadn't woken up, but she would recover. Quatre had been surprised, yet thankful, when the doctor had told him that Dorothy's injuries weren't as severe as they appeared at first glance. But if she hadn't been brought in when she had, she could have died from blood loss. Quatre was relieved she'd be okay. She had faced enough grief in her life, and deserved a better future. His heart hurt at the thought of her dying just as she was truly becoming herself.
Still watching her peaceful sleeping form, but not really looking at what he was doing, Quatre reached out and held one small pale hand. He was a little frightened at how cold it was. He cupped it in both hands, rubbing gently, trying to warm her up. With a soft sound, Dorothy tried pulling away in her sleep. Quatre held on for a moment, then released her, slipping her fingers through his as he set her hand back down. Resting his hands back into his lap, he sighed tiredly.
"So this is where you went off to."
Quatre raised his head almost guiltily at the smiling voice. "Duo!" He exclaimed in a hushed tone. "What's going on outside?"
"A great big fuss," Duo stepped in with a shake of his head. "Word is that Relena's been rescued, but Dekim and maybe Mariemaia are dead. Now that the Preventers have officially stepped in it's getting more organized out there, but it's still crazy though... Good thing I ran into Sally or I might've been searching endlessly for you."
"What about Heero?"
"Got me," Duo grinned and shrugged. "I looked and looked. But there was no body, so that can only mean he's alive and laughing at all of us somewhere."
Quatre couldn't help but smile a little at the thought of Heero laughing. "That's good to hear. I'm sorry I took off so suddenly, but this was kinda an emergency."
"Couldn't resist pickin' up a girl, even in the middle of a riot, really now, Quatre," Duo teased. "I never pegged you as the type."
"Aw, stop it, Duo," Quatre blushed and turned away.
This only made Duo laugh. He grinned knowingly. "Anyway, we'd better go move the gundams away from the city. Mariemaia's mobile suits are already starting to move out, and we'll be expected to do the same."
"Yeah," Quatre agreed reluctantly. As he stood, he took his goggles and placed them next to where Dorothy's hand lay. I'll be back, he promised silently. I won't leave you behind this time. This shouldn't take very long...
With one last look at the sleeping girl, he quickly followed Duo out of the hospital. With any luck, he'd get back before she even woke up.
***
When he returned just over an hour later, he was met with a brightly lit room and a nurse making an empty bed. Quatre's wide unbelieving eyes traveled from the the fresh sheets up to the nurse, who was startled to see him there as she looked up to leave the room.
"Miss? What happened to the patient who was here?" Quatre demanded softly.
"You're the one who brought her in, aren't you?" The nurse blinked in recognition. "I'm sorry honey, but I'm afraid I really don't know. It's been so hectic around here that no one noticed her leave. But apparently she was well enough to change back into her clothes before she left."
"Oh..." Quatre glanced around the room, as if searching for a trace of her. But there was nothing, especially now that the nurse had remade the bed. Even his goggles were gone.
"I'm sure she's fine," the nurse patted his shoulder reassuringly. "She seemed like a fighter." Then with a small smile she moved past him and moved down the hall, her heels clicking on the white tile floor.
Quatre was still staring into the deserted hospital room.
His throat and chest suddenly choked up, and his eyes burned. He closed his eyes and curled his shaking hands. She's okay, he reminded himself. There's no reason to feel hurt like this. Like the nurse said, like Trowa said on Libra, she's strong enough to survive on her own.
He opened his eyes to the empty bed. The knowledge that Dorothy would be alright didn't make the ache inside go away. He shook his head wearily and jammed his still shaking hands into his khaki pockets. Deciding that he must be mentally exhausted from the near non-stop ordeal of the past few days, he turned and walked heavy-footed from the room.
Everything was going to be fine. He just needed to get some rest. He was sure that was all he needed now.