I don't own Gundam Wing. So don't sue me.
Please read and review- this is my fave fic that I've written!
Silent Dove
Walking up the road, the leaves crackled under his feet and rustled in the air around Trowa as he went back to the circus, the place he considered to be home more than anywhere else. His 'sister' Cathy was there, and he looked forward to seeing her again, as far as he could. He tried to ignore emotions, mainly out of habit.
"Hi, sis."
"Trowa? Oh, it IS you! I'm so glad to see you!" Cathy trilled in delight, hugging him tightly. "Where have you been?" she checked herself, and smiled lopsidedly, remembering that he wouldn't, couldn't tell her.
"I'm glad to see you too, Cathy." His voice was it's usual monotone, with a hidden glint of warmth that was easily swallowed by his usual silence.
"We've taken on a new girl since you were here last." The ringmaster's voice rang out in the chilly autumn air. "She's mute, so she's a bit shy. Her name's Sorcha."
"Fine. I'll do the normal knife-throwing act, then." Trowa stalked off to see his other friend, the lion. Approaching the cage, he could hear sounds of purring coming from within. Surprised but hiding it well, he looked down to see a girl slightly younger than him playing with the golden beast, her eyes laughing but not uttering a single sound. He hadn't seen her before, so he assumed that this must be Sorcha.
The lion looked up, recognising the scent of his old friend. Pretty much instantly, she looked up herself and saw him staring at her. She smiled slightly, blushing. She was shy. She moved her hands, signing a welcome to Trowa.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand," Trowa said quietly. "I don't speak sign-language."
Looking crestfallen, Sorcha tried again, using simpler signs. But still Trowa shook his head. He could have sworn that tears welled up in her green eyes as she backed away, walking out of the tent.
"Strange girl," Trowa thought to himself as he reached down for the demanded petting that the King of Beasts desired.
^^^
Going back to his trailer that he shared with Cathy before the show, he saw Sorcha signing quickly to his sister and, to his surprise, Cathy laughing and talking back, seemingly answering the mute girl. Approaching, he found that Sorcha's hands slowed to a halt as she noticed him, then she smiled and signed something to Cathy, who laughed. She then turned to Trowa and moved her hands rapidly, trying to tell him something.
"I'm sorry, like I said earlier, I don't understand sign-language."
Sorcha started, remembering the earlier meeting.
"She says that your costume is ironed and on your bed."
Trowa stared at Cathy. "How do you know how to sign?"
"A kid at my school was deaf, and he'd never learnt to speak or lip read. So we all learnt sign-language."
By this time, Sorcha had moved away, and headed back to the main tent. Turning, Trowa realised that he hadn't thanked her. Unperturbed, he entered the trailer to get ready.
^^^
Watching from the sidelines, Sorcha saw knife after knife thudding into the board around Trowa's body. She longed to cry out in worry, but she was forever denied. She had been silent from birth, never crying, never making a single sound. She had wept, silently, for years, until she had accepted her own personal curse and decided to work for the circus. She cut a stunning figure, in a green dress with flared sleeves to contrast with her auburn hair. It gleamed like an emerald. She was to work with the lion, performing tricks and being seemingly brave, in that she didn't scream or cry in fear. All an act. She couldn't scream, even if she wanted to.
Passing Trowa on her way out, he stopped to look after her, walking on stage with the lion, which shook his mane and acted fierce. But Trowa could tell that the beast loved this girl dearly, and wouldn't harm her. He looked at the costume. The green matched her eyes, but was a shock when it came to her hair. It could just about be called auburn- it was almost red. Shrugging, he walked off into the wings to change into his normal clothes.
^^^
Later that night, Trowa walked out of the stuffy air inside to the cold breeze outside. Savouring the chill as it swept past him, he looked up. The moon, shining bright against the midnight sky, seemed to glow more and more as he looked. The trees, starkly outlined on the hill, rustled as the wind whistled between them, playing tag with itself and chasing up the hill to roar away into the distance. A puddle, with the moon's reflection repeating itself as he looked.
Sounds of movement brought his head up, and there, on the roof of her trailer, sat Sorcha, arms wrapped around her knees, looking at the same moon with a wistful expression on her face, her hood falling back to reveal her hair, looking almost black in the white light of the full moon.
"Sorcha?"
She looked around swiftly, opened her mouth as if to reply, then closed it, with a melancholy expression that squeezed his heart. He had been more miserable than that, he was sure, but he did not remember when. She waved briefly then turned her eyes upwards again, towards the moon. Her eyes seemed to be singing a mournful descant, on the edge of his hearing but never quite reaching his ears.
"What are you doing up there?"
She couldn't reply easily, so she walked to the edge and dropped silently to the ground, her very movements seeming hushed as well as her voice. She moved her hands slowly, using easy-to-understand words that Trowa could guess the meaning of.
I…look at…moon. So lovely…but sad. Always sad. Like me.
She moved her hands behind her back, as if trying to stifle her last words. But they were out.
"Why always sad? Is it because you have no voice?"
Concentrating, she managed to reply. I cannot…sing. I cannot…talk. I am…silent. It is…hard.
Trowa could understand this. Being unable to communicate with the majority of people? The isolation must be dreadful. But he was silent, often, and he didn't feel sad. Did he?
"You'd better go inside and sleep. You'll catch a cold if you're not careful, and then there's an act gone."
The girl walked back to her trailer, turning to look back at him. He had already walked off, to sleep himself. Shaking her head, she went back inside and closed her eyes.
^^^
Waking, Sorcha remembered her encounter with Trowa the night before. She shivered slightly from the memory, at what she had revealed to this boy. She thought for a moment, and then changed that sentence. What she had revealed to that man. He was only a bit older than her, but by no means could he be considered a boy. It was something about the eyes. She was more observant than others were, finding that she had to look at what she was saying rather than listen to it. He had great pain, buried deep within his shell, she didn't know where from. But she had glimpsed it, and his pity for her when she confessed to her unhappiness. She hated pity. All her life it had been handed to her, as if she was stupid. People thought she should be grateful for it. But she wasn't. Pity led to patronisation, which lead to ridicule. She hated pity more than anything else, apart from the damned silence she had to live with, day after day. People didn't realise how much of a blessing it was, even to be able to argue. She couldn't- it was hard to win when the other person can yell and you can't, when you have to think about what you say and they can blurt it out, like a spitting cobra. What a blessing it was to even swear, to let your anger out non-violently.
Descending the stairs and heading for the kitchen trailer, she poured some cereal and fruit juice, sitting for her simple meal.
She didn't look up as the door opened and closed, people entering and leaving as they began and finished their meals. Somebody sat in front of her and began to eat, silent as she was, not at all interested in anything that went on. She glanced up to see Trowa, eating his cereal, eyes unfocused and thinking of something else. Looking harder, she saw…was it fear, in his eyes? Fear of what? A recollection, or of something more recent? She stood up abruptly, and blushed as their knees collided under the table. Knocked out of his reverie, Trowa's eyes met hers and she turned quickly, leaving for the relative safety and privacy of her own place, wondering about the emotions that Trowa kept so well hid.
^^^
That girl again. He was certain she had been looking at him, seemingly intent on what was in his eyes. Perhaps that was how she communicated. But she had seemed shy enough when their knees had touched, so he hadn't been able to make certain.
He had been remembering the time that he almost died, when Quatre had blown up his suit. The fear he had felt, or should have felt, had been on his mind in his memory. He hoped she hadn't seen it.
Walking back to his trailer, he heard a sweet sound coming from another of the vehicles. Sorcha's. Stopping to listen, he recognised the tones of a flute, playing a piece he didn't know. Carrying on, he remembered when he had first met Quatre, and when he had played the flute in a duet with the Arabian's violin. One of his better memories. Feeling a tug on his sleeve, and noticing that the music had stopped, he turned to find Sorcha, who signed simply,
You…cannot understand. So I will teach you…the sign language, if you…like. It's…not hard. He barely noticed that her messages became clearer and clearer each time he tried to understand. He nodded, then remembered his own voice.
"I'd like to learn. It'd make things a whole lot easier."
Sorcha grinned, and paced off towards the lion again, drawn by the large brown eyes that were so understanding. The lion always understood her. They didn't need words, with him being a creature with no language himself. Looking after her, then tearing himself away, Trowa fought to rid himself of the pity he had for this girl. For some reason, he didn't think she'd want it.
^^^
Weeks passed, and Trowa learnt some simple words and letters in sign language, so they could now have an understandable conversation. But still there were problems in comprehension. She still had many words that he didn't understand, and the obvious fury at her predicament flew from her eyes like fire when he didn't know what she was trying to say.
Having fed and watered some of the animals, Trowa returned to the trailer to see another of the sign-conversations between Cathy and Sorcha. One sign he didn't know kept coming up, where one of them put her hand on her forehead and then pushed it out and away from her face.
When they were finished and Sorcha had gone to do her chores, Trowa walked over, startling Cathy.
"What were you talking about?"
"Hey, Trowa. Actually, we were talking about the knife-throwing act."
"So what was that sign?" he imitated the movement he had seen made often.
Cathy laughed merrily. "It's you. Sorcha decided she was bored of spelling your name every time, so she invented a sign which means 'Trowa'."
"Why the hand to the forehead?"
In reply, Cathy reached out and gave a gentle tug on his hair, which stuck straight out in front of him, hiding some of his face.
"Oh. Okay." Walking off embarrassed, he heard the sounds of a struggle in the lion cage. Running over, he saw Sorcha rolling about in the straw with the lion, playing happily with him, being patted by those huge paws and getting round behind the beast to tickle him. Retreating, he felt rather lonely watching this joyful interaction between the silent girl and the massive creature.
^^^
It was full moon again, and once more Trowa couldn't sleep. Climbing out, he looked up. It was November now, and the wind had gone from chilly to icy. The ground was freezing solid in the cold, and it shone in the light that now seemed Antarctic. A small sigh came from above. Looking up, he saw Sorcha there as well, once more on her trailer. But she couldn't sigh. So who had?
Then, a melancholy song filled his mind, but seeming to bypass his ears. Looking around, he saw nobody but Sorcha, sitting on her roof with her jumper over her legs and her eyes on the moon.
How,
Many tears,
Through the years,
Must I cry?
Through
All my silence
Was I cursed
From the start?
He still couldn't see anyone. He glanced up, and could almost see the song in her eyes, in the tears that fell down her cheeks to be swept away on the wind.
"Sorcha?"
She started in shock and the song stopped as she looked down at him.
"Were you singing?"
I cannot sing. But I sing in my mind. Why?
"I could have sworn I heard someone singing. But…that's impossible!"
She smiled. Maybe you are learning how to listen.
^^^
Sorcha saw him come jaunting into the circus, carefree and obviously not worried or embarrassed. His long braid swung over his shoulder, and his eyes twinkled with mirth.
"Hey, how you doing?" he had come over and was talking to her. She smiled in response.
"Do you know where a guy called Trowa is?"
She nodded, and tried to tell him using her hands. In his trailer, getting ready for the show.
Duo frowned. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"
At this unfair remark, Sorcha felt tears come to her face and she sprinted away to her favourite refuge, with the lion she had nicknamed 'Aslan.' Duo stared after her, bewildered.
"What did I say?"
^^^
"Trowa!"
Turning, he saw Duo galloping towards him at full pelt, only to stop directly in front of him.
"Long time no see, old pal!"
"Hey, Duo."
Sorcha was about to go on, and walked past the two pilots. Seeing Duo, the one who had been so cruel, although unintentionally, she felt the tears come again and she fought to keep them back. Trowa spotted her, and grabbed her arm, bringing her to meet Duo.
"Duo, this is Sorcha."
"We already met. Not very talkative, is she?"
Trowa scowled, and it took all Duo had not to take a step back.
"She can't talk, Duo! She's mute!"
This made the American feel awful, remembering his comment to her earlier. "Jeez, sorry, I didn't know. You okay?"
In answer, Sorcha swept past him, with the lion following close behind, snarling at Duo as they passed. She wouldn't forgive him, at least, not yet. It had been so long since anyone had made light of her situation like that, and she hated it. The pain and suffering she had gone through came back to torment her, but she went through the act like a robot, perfectly. Leaving the stage, she found herself drawn off to one side. It was that braided idiot again. She scowled and tried to escape, but his grip was unshakeable.
"I'm sorry I made fun of you. Can we be friends?"
She grinned inside and went through a long series of hand-movements, insulting everything from his mother to his looks. Duo understood none of it, and took it as a sign of peace, letting her go and walking off feeling better.
Sorcha smirked, her face contorting strangely in the dim light. For some reason, it felt awfully good having tricked him like that. She didn't know that Trowa had watched, and had seen what she'd said to Duo. He hardly needed the hand-movements any more, he could almost read it in her eyes. He couldn't blame her- it was a terrible thing that Duo had said, for her at least. But it was disturbing to see her this way. He decided to follow his friend, and not to tell him what had really happened.
^^^
In the morning Duo had gone, leaving on Preventor business. Sorcha was glad. They would have got along fine if only it wasn't for that single remark. Sighing, she realised that now she'd be quite happy to withdraw all she'd said and be friends. He had seemed nice enough, after all.
She found Trowa waiting for her by Aslan's cage. "I saw what you signed to Duo," He told her quietly. "Why? Why all this hate?"
Do you really have to ask? All my life I have been ridiculed for my silence. Then, for a while all was calm, and I was accepted. Then he came along and that one comment just started up all the rage I had inside again.
"But such violence…it's wrong. I hate violence. Please, don't do anything like that again. Or I'll report you."
Sorcha watched his retreating back. She was remorseful now. But something in Trowa's face had contradicted his statement. I hate violence, he had said. But she had a feeling that it was more than that. She got on with her chores.
^^^
Trowa had been spending a lot of time with Sorcha over the last year, and they understood each other well. Sometimes people took them for more than they were, but they were only friends, and both of them were happy that way. Trowa was Sorcha's voice, and she helped him when she could. They had long conversations. By this time, he hardly saw her hands at all. He had learned how to listen; and her voice was easy for him to hear, though no one else could.
Her smile was pretty much permanent now, now that she was accepted and had a 'family' of sorts. She'd do anything to protect them.
Trowa was helping dismantle the big top when the accident happened. All he was aware of was a sudden slackness in the material, and then Sorcha pushing him out of the way as something huge collapsed. It was one of the main supports, and it would have crushed him if he'd been standing there.
"Sorcha?" he looked around madly, trying to see where she was. Then he looked down. By his feet, her abdomen pinned by the support, she lay, her skin pale and her eyes wide in pain, her hair appearing as a puddle of blood around her head, like an omen of terrible things to come.
Oh my God…Sorcha!" he grabbed the support and tried to lift it, but it was too heavy. Calling for help, they eventually got enough men to haul it off of her body. But it was clear that this was no small injury. The bruising alone was horrible, and her legs lay at a twisted angle.
No legs…either. Guess I'll live without them.
"Oh, Sorcha…" Trowa didn't dare move her, in case it hurt her worse. But he held her hand until the ambulance arrived, and went with her to the hospital, with Cathy on her other side.
^^^
That night, Trowa was till awake and alone with Sorcha, in her room looking at the moon. Tonight it was almost hidden by shadow, and the stars shone like jewels. Sorcha had been given morphine, but the diagnosis wasn't good. There was probably massive internal bleeding. She was probably going to die.
"Oh, Sorcha…this should have been me." Trowa agonised over her fate, his friend, his best friend, who had sacrificed herself for him.
Don't punish yourself, Trowa. It was my choice. I knew what would happen.
"What? And you still did it? How could you!"
I did it for you, she told him, then winced in pain, but still silent as the grave.
"Are you alright?"
Please…just talk to me. Blot out the pain.
Trowa sat on a chair, and began to talk.
"In AC 195, Five pilots were sent to Earth…"
^^^
Sorcha smiled at the story. She had suspected something all along, but she loved the shy way he told his story, proud of what he had done.
"Trowa…"
His head turned sharply, and he rushed over to her. "You spoke!"
In her pain, she found she could speak. "I love you. Always…have. Your voice is a gift…use it, for me." She gave a sharp cry of pain, then fell silent. Her head lolled, and Trowa cried out in pain and sorrow. She was dead. She had finally found her voice, and she was dead. The girl who had taught him that speaking was a wonderful thing, and that silence was a waste of time. He stood up, and left the hospital, returning to the circus. Where he truly cried for the first time, for his friend, his koi, the silent dove.
Please read and review- this is my fave fic that I've written!
Silent Dove
Walking up the road, the leaves crackled under his feet and rustled in the air around Trowa as he went back to the circus, the place he considered to be home more than anywhere else. His 'sister' Cathy was there, and he looked forward to seeing her again, as far as he could. He tried to ignore emotions, mainly out of habit.
"Hi, sis."
"Trowa? Oh, it IS you! I'm so glad to see you!" Cathy trilled in delight, hugging him tightly. "Where have you been?" she checked herself, and smiled lopsidedly, remembering that he wouldn't, couldn't tell her.
"I'm glad to see you too, Cathy." His voice was it's usual monotone, with a hidden glint of warmth that was easily swallowed by his usual silence.
"We've taken on a new girl since you were here last." The ringmaster's voice rang out in the chilly autumn air. "She's mute, so she's a bit shy. Her name's Sorcha."
"Fine. I'll do the normal knife-throwing act, then." Trowa stalked off to see his other friend, the lion. Approaching the cage, he could hear sounds of purring coming from within. Surprised but hiding it well, he looked down to see a girl slightly younger than him playing with the golden beast, her eyes laughing but not uttering a single sound. He hadn't seen her before, so he assumed that this must be Sorcha.
The lion looked up, recognising the scent of his old friend. Pretty much instantly, she looked up herself and saw him staring at her. She smiled slightly, blushing. She was shy. She moved her hands, signing a welcome to Trowa.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand," Trowa said quietly. "I don't speak sign-language."
Looking crestfallen, Sorcha tried again, using simpler signs. But still Trowa shook his head. He could have sworn that tears welled up in her green eyes as she backed away, walking out of the tent.
"Strange girl," Trowa thought to himself as he reached down for the demanded petting that the King of Beasts desired.
^^^
Going back to his trailer that he shared with Cathy before the show, he saw Sorcha signing quickly to his sister and, to his surprise, Cathy laughing and talking back, seemingly answering the mute girl. Approaching, he found that Sorcha's hands slowed to a halt as she noticed him, then she smiled and signed something to Cathy, who laughed. She then turned to Trowa and moved her hands rapidly, trying to tell him something.
"I'm sorry, like I said earlier, I don't understand sign-language."
Sorcha started, remembering the earlier meeting.
"She says that your costume is ironed and on your bed."
Trowa stared at Cathy. "How do you know how to sign?"
"A kid at my school was deaf, and he'd never learnt to speak or lip read. So we all learnt sign-language."
By this time, Sorcha had moved away, and headed back to the main tent. Turning, Trowa realised that he hadn't thanked her. Unperturbed, he entered the trailer to get ready.
^^^
Watching from the sidelines, Sorcha saw knife after knife thudding into the board around Trowa's body. She longed to cry out in worry, but she was forever denied. She had been silent from birth, never crying, never making a single sound. She had wept, silently, for years, until she had accepted her own personal curse and decided to work for the circus. She cut a stunning figure, in a green dress with flared sleeves to contrast with her auburn hair. It gleamed like an emerald. She was to work with the lion, performing tricks and being seemingly brave, in that she didn't scream or cry in fear. All an act. She couldn't scream, even if she wanted to.
Passing Trowa on her way out, he stopped to look after her, walking on stage with the lion, which shook his mane and acted fierce. But Trowa could tell that the beast loved this girl dearly, and wouldn't harm her. He looked at the costume. The green matched her eyes, but was a shock when it came to her hair. It could just about be called auburn- it was almost red. Shrugging, he walked off into the wings to change into his normal clothes.
^^^
Later that night, Trowa walked out of the stuffy air inside to the cold breeze outside. Savouring the chill as it swept past him, he looked up. The moon, shining bright against the midnight sky, seemed to glow more and more as he looked. The trees, starkly outlined on the hill, rustled as the wind whistled between them, playing tag with itself and chasing up the hill to roar away into the distance. A puddle, with the moon's reflection repeating itself as he looked.
Sounds of movement brought his head up, and there, on the roof of her trailer, sat Sorcha, arms wrapped around her knees, looking at the same moon with a wistful expression on her face, her hood falling back to reveal her hair, looking almost black in the white light of the full moon.
"Sorcha?"
She looked around swiftly, opened her mouth as if to reply, then closed it, with a melancholy expression that squeezed his heart. He had been more miserable than that, he was sure, but he did not remember when. She waved briefly then turned her eyes upwards again, towards the moon. Her eyes seemed to be singing a mournful descant, on the edge of his hearing but never quite reaching his ears.
"What are you doing up there?"
She couldn't reply easily, so she walked to the edge and dropped silently to the ground, her very movements seeming hushed as well as her voice. She moved her hands slowly, using easy-to-understand words that Trowa could guess the meaning of.
I…look at…moon. So lovely…but sad. Always sad. Like me.
She moved her hands behind her back, as if trying to stifle her last words. But they were out.
"Why always sad? Is it because you have no voice?"
Concentrating, she managed to reply. I cannot…sing. I cannot…talk. I am…silent. It is…hard.
Trowa could understand this. Being unable to communicate with the majority of people? The isolation must be dreadful. But he was silent, often, and he didn't feel sad. Did he?
"You'd better go inside and sleep. You'll catch a cold if you're not careful, and then there's an act gone."
The girl walked back to her trailer, turning to look back at him. He had already walked off, to sleep himself. Shaking her head, she went back inside and closed her eyes.
^^^
Waking, Sorcha remembered her encounter with Trowa the night before. She shivered slightly from the memory, at what she had revealed to this boy. She thought for a moment, and then changed that sentence. What she had revealed to that man. He was only a bit older than her, but by no means could he be considered a boy. It was something about the eyes. She was more observant than others were, finding that she had to look at what she was saying rather than listen to it. He had great pain, buried deep within his shell, she didn't know where from. But she had glimpsed it, and his pity for her when she confessed to her unhappiness. She hated pity. All her life it had been handed to her, as if she was stupid. People thought she should be grateful for it. But she wasn't. Pity led to patronisation, which lead to ridicule. She hated pity more than anything else, apart from the damned silence she had to live with, day after day. People didn't realise how much of a blessing it was, even to be able to argue. She couldn't- it was hard to win when the other person can yell and you can't, when you have to think about what you say and they can blurt it out, like a spitting cobra. What a blessing it was to even swear, to let your anger out non-violently.
Descending the stairs and heading for the kitchen trailer, she poured some cereal and fruit juice, sitting for her simple meal.
She didn't look up as the door opened and closed, people entering and leaving as they began and finished their meals. Somebody sat in front of her and began to eat, silent as she was, not at all interested in anything that went on. She glanced up to see Trowa, eating his cereal, eyes unfocused and thinking of something else. Looking harder, she saw…was it fear, in his eyes? Fear of what? A recollection, or of something more recent? She stood up abruptly, and blushed as their knees collided under the table. Knocked out of his reverie, Trowa's eyes met hers and she turned quickly, leaving for the relative safety and privacy of her own place, wondering about the emotions that Trowa kept so well hid.
^^^
That girl again. He was certain she had been looking at him, seemingly intent on what was in his eyes. Perhaps that was how she communicated. But she had seemed shy enough when their knees had touched, so he hadn't been able to make certain.
He had been remembering the time that he almost died, when Quatre had blown up his suit. The fear he had felt, or should have felt, had been on his mind in his memory. He hoped she hadn't seen it.
Walking back to his trailer, he heard a sweet sound coming from another of the vehicles. Sorcha's. Stopping to listen, he recognised the tones of a flute, playing a piece he didn't know. Carrying on, he remembered when he had first met Quatre, and when he had played the flute in a duet with the Arabian's violin. One of his better memories. Feeling a tug on his sleeve, and noticing that the music had stopped, he turned to find Sorcha, who signed simply,
You…cannot understand. So I will teach you…the sign language, if you…like. It's…not hard. He barely noticed that her messages became clearer and clearer each time he tried to understand. He nodded, then remembered his own voice.
"I'd like to learn. It'd make things a whole lot easier."
Sorcha grinned, and paced off towards the lion again, drawn by the large brown eyes that were so understanding. The lion always understood her. They didn't need words, with him being a creature with no language himself. Looking after her, then tearing himself away, Trowa fought to rid himself of the pity he had for this girl. For some reason, he didn't think she'd want it.
^^^
Weeks passed, and Trowa learnt some simple words and letters in sign language, so they could now have an understandable conversation. But still there were problems in comprehension. She still had many words that he didn't understand, and the obvious fury at her predicament flew from her eyes like fire when he didn't know what she was trying to say.
Having fed and watered some of the animals, Trowa returned to the trailer to see another of the sign-conversations between Cathy and Sorcha. One sign he didn't know kept coming up, where one of them put her hand on her forehead and then pushed it out and away from her face.
When they were finished and Sorcha had gone to do her chores, Trowa walked over, startling Cathy.
"What were you talking about?"
"Hey, Trowa. Actually, we were talking about the knife-throwing act."
"So what was that sign?" he imitated the movement he had seen made often.
Cathy laughed merrily. "It's you. Sorcha decided she was bored of spelling your name every time, so she invented a sign which means 'Trowa'."
"Why the hand to the forehead?"
In reply, Cathy reached out and gave a gentle tug on his hair, which stuck straight out in front of him, hiding some of his face.
"Oh. Okay." Walking off embarrassed, he heard the sounds of a struggle in the lion cage. Running over, he saw Sorcha rolling about in the straw with the lion, playing happily with him, being patted by those huge paws and getting round behind the beast to tickle him. Retreating, he felt rather lonely watching this joyful interaction between the silent girl and the massive creature.
^^^
It was full moon again, and once more Trowa couldn't sleep. Climbing out, he looked up. It was November now, and the wind had gone from chilly to icy. The ground was freezing solid in the cold, and it shone in the light that now seemed Antarctic. A small sigh came from above. Looking up, he saw Sorcha there as well, once more on her trailer. But she couldn't sigh. So who had?
Then, a melancholy song filled his mind, but seeming to bypass his ears. Looking around, he saw nobody but Sorcha, sitting on her roof with her jumper over her legs and her eyes on the moon.
How,
Many tears,
Through the years,
Must I cry?
Through
All my silence
Was I cursed
From the start?
He still couldn't see anyone. He glanced up, and could almost see the song in her eyes, in the tears that fell down her cheeks to be swept away on the wind.
"Sorcha?"
She started in shock and the song stopped as she looked down at him.
"Were you singing?"
I cannot sing. But I sing in my mind. Why?
"I could have sworn I heard someone singing. But…that's impossible!"
She smiled. Maybe you are learning how to listen.
^^^
Sorcha saw him come jaunting into the circus, carefree and obviously not worried or embarrassed. His long braid swung over his shoulder, and his eyes twinkled with mirth.
"Hey, how you doing?" he had come over and was talking to her. She smiled in response.
"Do you know where a guy called Trowa is?"
She nodded, and tried to tell him using her hands. In his trailer, getting ready for the show.
Duo frowned. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"
At this unfair remark, Sorcha felt tears come to her face and she sprinted away to her favourite refuge, with the lion she had nicknamed 'Aslan.' Duo stared after her, bewildered.
"What did I say?"
^^^
"Trowa!"
Turning, he saw Duo galloping towards him at full pelt, only to stop directly in front of him.
"Long time no see, old pal!"
"Hey, Duo."
Sorcha was about to go on, and walked past the two pilots. Seeing Duo, the one who had been so cruel, although unintentionally, she felt the tears come again and she fought to keep them back. Trowa spotted her, and grabbed her arm, bringing her to meet Duo.
"Duo, this is Sorcha."
"We already met. Not very talkative, is she?"
Trowa scowled, and it took all Duo had not to take a step back.
"She can't talk, Duo! She's mute!"
This made the American feel awful, remembering his comment to her earlier. "Jeez, sorry, I didn't know. You okay?"
In answer, Sorcha swept past him, with the lion following close behind, snarling at Duo as they passed. She wouldn't forgive him, at least, not yet. It had been so long since anyone had made light of her situation like that, and she hated it. The pain and suffering she had gone through came back to torment her, but she went through the act like a robot, perfectly. Leaving the stage, she found herself drawn off to one side. It was that braided idiot again. She scowled and tried to escape, but his grip was unshakeable.
"I'm sorry I made fun of you. Can we be friends?"
She grinned inside and went through a long series of hand-movements, insulting everything from his mother to his looks. Duo understood none of it, and took it as a sign of peace, letting her go and walking off feeling better.
Sorcha smirked, her face contorting strangely in the dim light. For some reason, it felt awfully good having tricked him like that. She didn't know that Trowa had watched, and had seen what she'd said to Duo. He hardly needed the hand-movements any more, he could almost read it in her eyes. He couldn't blame her- it was a terrible thing that Duo had said, for her at least. But it was disturbing to see her this way. He decided to follow his friend, and not to tell him what had really happened.
^^^
In the morning Duo had gone, leaving on Preventor business. Sorcha was glad. They would have got along fine if only it wasn't for that single remark. Sighing, she realised that now she'd be quite happy to withdraw all she'd said and be friends. He had seemed nice enough, after all.
She found Trowa waiting for her by Aslan's cage. "I saw what you signed to Duo," He told her quietly. "Why? Why all this hate?"
Do you really have to ask? All my life I have been ridiculed for my silence. Then, for a while all was calm, and I was accepted. Then he came along and that one comment just started up all the rage I had inside again.
"But such violence…it's wrong. I hate violence. Please, don't do anything like that again. Or I'll report you."
Sorcha watched his retreating back. She was remorseful now. But something in Trowa's face had contradicted his statement. I hate violence, he had said. But she had a feeling that it was more than that. She got on with her chores.
^^^
Trowa had been spending a lot of time with Sorcha over the last year, and they understood each other well. Sometimes people took them for more than they were, but they were only friends, and both of them were happy that way. Trowa was Sorcha's voice, and she helped him when she could. They had long conversations. By this time, he hardly saw her hands at all. He had learned how to listen; and her voice was easy for him to hear, though no one else could.
Her smile was pretty much permanent now, now that she was accepted and had a 'family' of sorts. She'd do anything to protect them.
Trowa was helping dismantle the big top when the accident happened. All he was aware of was a sudden slackness in the material, and then Sorcha pushing him out of the way as something huge collapsed. It was one of the main supports, and it would have crushed him if he'd been standing there.
"Sorcha?" he looked around madly, trying to see where she was. Then he looked down. By his feet, her abdomen pinned by the support, she lay, her skin pale and her eyes wide in pain, her hair appearing as a puddle of blood around her head, like an omen of terrible things to come.
Oh my God…Sorcha!" he grabbed the support and tried to lift it, but it was too heavy. Calling for help, they eventually got enough men to haul it off of her body. But it was clear that this was no small injury. The bruising alone was horrible, and her legs lay at a twisted angle.
No legs…either. Guess I'll live without them.
"Oh, Sorcha…" Trowa didn't dare move her, in case it hurt her worse. But he held her hand until the ambulance arrived, and went with her to the hospital, with Cathy on her other side.
^^^
That night, Trowa was till awake and alone with Sorcha, in her room looking at the moon. Tonight it was almost hidden by shadow, and the stars shone like jewels. Sorcha had been given morphine, but the diagnosis wasn't good. There was probably massive internal bleeding. She was probably going to die.
"Oh, Sorcha…this should have been me." Trowa agonised over her fate, his friend, his best friend, who had sacrificed herself for him.
Don't punish yourself, Trowa. It was my choice. I knew what would happen.
"What? And you still did it? How could you!"
I did it for you, she told him, then winced in pain, but still silent as the grave.
"Are you alright?"
Please…just talk to me. Blot out the pain.
Trowa sat on a chair, and began to talk.
"In AC 195, Five pilots were sent to Earth…"
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Sorcha smiled at the story. She had suspected something all along, but she loved the shy way he told his story, proud of what he had done.
"Trowa…"
His head turned sharply, and he rushed over to her. "You spoke!"
In her pain, she found she could speak. "I love you. Always…have. Your voice is a gift…use it, for me." She gave a sharp cry of pain, then fell silent. Her head lolled, and Trowa cried out in pain and sorrow. She was dead. She had finally found her voice, and she was dead. The girl who had taught him that speaking was a wonderful thing, and that silence was a waste of time. He stood up, and left the hospital, returning to the circus. Where he truly cried for the first time, for his friend, his koi, the silent dove.