Her Christmas Gift

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Disclaimer: Per the usual. I don't own them.

Warning: AU, Dorothy-centric. Kinda sad-like.

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Dorothy looked at the house in front of her. Lights twinkled around the porch, a wreath hung on the door. In the window, a Christmas tree shimmered and sparkled. Snow swirled in light little drifts around her. It was December, almost Christmas. And Dorothy couldn't find it in her to smile.

"It's alright," Sylvia said from beside her. "Nothing's going to jump out at you, darling."

"Nothing but memories," Dorothy whispered, closing her eyes and fighting away said memories.

Sylvia's slender hand patted her shoulder. "It will get better with time. You just have to remember that the past is just that. The past."

"Oh, Syl. I never should have come back. I can't do this."

"You can, Dorothy Elizabeth Catalonia. You can and you will. It's not going to be easy, but you can." They stood on the sidewalk for a long time in the frigid air as small flakes of pure white drifted around them.

"Miss Sylvia! Miss Sylvia! Look what Heero just gave me for Christmas...."

Sylvia looked as the voice dwindled off. A petite honey-haired girl was staring at them with wide, shocked baby blue eyes.

"Who.... are...D...Dory? Dorothy? B...but... I thought..."

"Hello, Relena," Dorothy said evenly, looking at the shocked young girl. It had been a long time since she'd seen her childhood confidant. The other girl had had a major crush on the wrestling team's captain... Heero. Judging by the hand she was waving... and the sizeable diamond on her left ring finger... Dorothy thought that maybe Relena had finally got him to look twice at her. Once, Relena had been one of Dorothy's closest friends. Once, they'd been inseperable. Once... was but a memory.

Abruptly those blue eyes turned cold, that pretty face clamming up.

"Does he know you're back? Do you realize what this could do to him? Oh, how could you? Why did you have to come back?"

She turned on her heel, marching away in a flurry of honey hair and pink skirt, towards the house across the road.

"Is everyone that mad at me?" Dorothy asked Sylvia.

The woman nodded. "I'm afraid so, child. I tried to explain to them about Treize and your grandfather and the drugs and the depression, but they didn't want to listen. Mostly they've tried to forget."

"I did terrible things," Dorothy hung her head. "If I can't forgive myself, how can I ask them to forgive me?"

"You made bad choices, dear. That doesn't make you a bad person."

"I almost killed him," she whispered. "How could I? I loved him."

Sylvia patted her shoulder once more. "I know I'm just your cousin and not a psychologist, but trust me when I tell you that time heals everything, if you let it."

******

Two weeks hadn't seen much healing, in her opinion. People still hated her; her dreams were still haunted; her life was still broken. Christmas drew closer and closer, but Dorothy's mood didn't change much. Sadder and sadder she fell as she felt what little bond she had with this city tear a little more.

Dorothy ran her fingers through her hair. It still surprised her to feel it end at her shoulders. When she'd left, it'd reached almost to her knees. But it seemed time for a change. Like dying it light brown. Just like getting ride of her mini-skirts and going for more sensible clothes. She'd hoped such changes would help her *feel* different. But she still felt broken. She still felt like a failure... like a demon.

She kept her head bowed slightly as she made her way through the sparse crowds lining the sidewalk on Main Street. She ducked out of the way and into an alley, cutting through to Third street and the super-market she was looking for.

"It suits you," a voice cut through into her daydreaming. Dorothy froze. Oh no. Not that voice. That voice haunted her dreams. It belonged to the face that to her, was as beautiful as any angel's.

"What?" Damn her, she couldn't keep her voice from shaking. She wanted so much to turn around and see him, but fear kept her rooted.

"The hair. It suits you. It doesn't hide you though. Anyone can tell from the way you walk. You can't change that. It's like you're dancing. So graceful, passionate. Even now, there's a strength and a... power in the way you walk. You were always so forceful like that."

Dorothy swallowed, and forced herself to turn around. In the fading sunlight, she could see him. Pale, sandy blond hair. Teal eyes like aquamarines. Milky skin. A slender body that she knew held a strength that seemed impossible for such a small person.

"Quatre," she whispered, her voice choking on the word. She could almost cry. He was alive and well. Of course, she'd known as much. But to see him...

The last time she'd seen him he'd been lying in a dark, dank warehouse... his blood pooling around him as paramedics and cops rushed around.

"You look well," he said, eyes and face unreadable. "Rehab must have went well."

"Been clean now for two years," she replied, swallowing again.

"And how was therapy?"

"I have my demons," she said, standing a little straighter. "I just know how to co-exist with them now."

He laughed, but it wasn't right. It wasn't the sweet, full laughter she'd once cherished. It was hollow.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know it can't change what I did, but I want you to know that. I am truly sorry for hurting you."

"I healed," he returned, voice hollow.

"That wasn't the only way I hurt you," she whispered as a tear ran down her face, cold as a snowflake. "You trusted me. I lied. I broke that trust. And I'm sorry for that."

For the first time, those teal eyes softened just a bit.

"Dorothy... I forgive you. For everything."

Her eyes widened, and he smiled at her, softly.

"Your grandfather abused you, Dory. Treize brainwashed you. That wasn't your fault."

She laughed, rueful. "I fall in league with the only crime syndicate in Sanq, and yet it wasn't my fault?"

"No. You made human mistakes. We all do. Your grandfather was your rock. He was all you had. It's not your fault that he used your faith in him for selfish reasons. You were manipulated."

"I keep hearing that, but it doesn't change what I did."

"No..." he said softly. "It doesn't."

"Quat. Noin was out of the pumpkin spice, so I got the cinnamon apple instead," a man said, coming up. He was holding out a paper cup for Quatre.

"That's fine, Trowa," Quatre smiled. For the first time, Dorothy saw his teal eyes light up as the blond reached out to take the cup.

"Who's this?" the newcomer- Trowa- asked.

Quatre just smiled. "Dory, this is Trowa... my boyfriend. Trowa... this is Dorothy Catalonia."

Emerald green eyes speared right through her.

Quatre put a hand on Trowa's arm. "It's alright. I have her to thank for you." He looked at Dorothy again. "Trowa was in a car accident the same day I went into the hospital. We had to share a room. I love him more than life itself. He's the other half of my soul. I have you to thank for that, Dorothy. You can tell whatever demons you have... that I've forgiven you."

Dorothy watched as Quatre slipped his hand into Trowa's and walked off. The sun slipped a little lower, and the Christmas lights blinked into life around her. She knew somewhere back on Main Street, in the square, the big tree was coming alive, it's bright star angel shining like a beacon of hope. Somewhere, back there, a fat man dressed in red asked people what they wanted for Christmas. When she was young... she'd have probably been in line to tell him her wishes.

But not this year. Because she'd just gotten the only thing she'd needed. She got the key to opening the door to her future. She got a reason to live. She got the first block to start building a new, better life. The first positive nudge towards letting the past become the past.

Acceptance.

Closure.

Forgiveness.

When she walked into that super-market... she did it with eyes wide open and head held high.

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Owari