On Edge
By Lady Aishiteru
Website: http://www.geocities.com/anniemaniac_99/index.html
Email: Lady_aisheteru@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, but whoever does is really lucky. Please do not sue me. I am a college student, therefore I am poor.
~*~Chapter 1~*~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Catherine rubbed her sore temples. She had woken up from a horrible nightmare, bathed in a pool of sweat. She hadn't been sleeping well for a long time. In fact, she couldn't remember the last good night's worth of slumber that she had. She remembered the accident so clearly, the memory adding to the dull throbbing that had insisted on taking place in her head. Unable to forget the terrible event, she replayed the events once again in her mind.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She was performing her knife throwing act, and all was going well except for one thing. Someone had forgotten to mention that the knives had been sharpened right before the act, so she had barely suppressed a yelp of pain when she had gripped the knife slightly above the hilt. She saw Trowa's concerned stare from behind the unmasked half of his face, more for her than for his own safety. 'But the show must go on,' she had thought. So she raised her hand, appearing poised and confident, even though she was shaking inside. She sighed a little and let loose the knives she held in her bleeding hand.
Trowa's eyes widened as he saw the knives coming, and he knew that he should try to break free of his restraints. But his split second instinct hadn't been enough to save the young clown. Catherine gasped when the knives made their mark...a few crucial millimeters away from their intended target.
Of course, the man who sharpened the knives was fired on the spot. Nobody blamed Catherine except Catherine herself. At Trowa's funeral, all the people were crying her eyes out, but not Catherine. She felt an aching in her heart, as well as cold and hot all over. She felt an intense need to vomit.
She couldn't believe that this was real, that this was really happening. But even the skilled undertaker hadn't unable to hide the telltale scars on the head and sides of Trowa's lifeless body. She had even pinched herself, hoping that it was all a horrible nightmare, but the next day it would prove all too real when the next morning she would get up and Trowa would be gone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Everyone was too absorbed in their own sorrows to notice the anguish of Catherine Bloom. Everyone except a lone pair of sapphire eyes connected to a concerned face. Quatre was the most emotioannly sensitive of all the former Gundam pilots, and as such he knew that different people would be affected differently. Catherine was like a sister to Trowa, and Quatre had the feeling that she was the most deeply affected among the grievers. He had consierd himself the reclusive clown's best friend, but Catherine's relationship with Trowa ran deeper. After the last person had finished speaking, Catherine was led away with the rest of the procession, and Quatre lost her in the crowd. He frowned, hoping she would be okay.
He too remembered the accident. He had seen it along with the rest of the crowd, and he had accompanied her and Trowa to the hospital in the ambulance. They had tried to remove the knife from Trowa's brain, but he had died on the operating table. He remembered Trowa's last words and smiled a bit; if he had known he was dying, maybe he would have chosen something else to say. Quatre had asked Trowa how he was holding up, and the glib pilot resonded, "It hurts like hell."
Then again, maybe he knew he was dying. Hadn't Heero said that after a near trip to the Great Beyond?
The phone rang, distracting him for his reverie. "Hello, Quatre Raberba-Winner speaking."
The person on the other end babbled on for quite some time before Quatre managed to talk him into setting up a meeting for a later date. He sighed, admitting to himself that he was getting tired of long-winded customers. He took a sip of water and decided to call it a day.
Again, the phone rang. "Hello, we are closed for the day. Please call during regular business hours. Thank you," Quatre said, annoyance clear in his voice, preparing to hang up.
"Q-man! Don't hang up!"
Only one person would dare to call the CEO of Raberba Winner Enterptises by that awful nickname. "Duo?"
"It's important," he said.
Quatre sighed. "Another hangover, Duo? You've got to stop these wild parties."
Duo groaned, causing Quatre to be completely unprepared for what he was about to say next. "It's Catherine. She's in the hospital."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
By Lady Aishiteru
Website: http://www.geocities.com/anniemaniac_99/index.html
Email: Lady_aisheteru@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, but whoever does is really lucky. Please do not sue me. I am a college student, therefore I am poor.
~*~Chapter 1~*~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Catherine rubbed her sore temples. She had woken up from a horrible nightmare, bathed in a pool of sweat. She hadn't been sleeping well for a long time. In fact, she couldn't remember the last good night's worth of slumber that she had. She remembered the accident so clearly, the memory adding to the dull throbbing that had insisted on taking place in her head. Unable to forget the terrible event, she replayed the events once again in her mind.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She was performing her knife throwing act, and all was going well except for one thing. Someone had forgotten to mention that the knives had been sharpened right before the act, so she had barely suppressed a yelp of pain when she had gripped the knife slightly above the hilt. She saw Trowa's concerned stare from behind the unmasked half of his face, more for her than for his own safety. 'But the show must go on,' she had thought. So she raised her hand, appearing poised and confident, even though she was shaking inside. She sighed a little and let loose the knives she held in her bleeding hand.
Trowa's eyes widened as he saw the knives coming, and he knew that he should try to break free of his restraints. But his split second instinct hadn't been enough to save the young clown. Catherine gasped when the knives made their mark...a few crucial millimeters away from their intended target.
Of course, the man who sharpened the knives was fired on the spot. Nobody blamed Catherine except Catherine herself. At Trowa's funeral, all the people were crying her eyes out, but not Catherine. She felt an aching in her heart, as well as cold and hot all over. She felt an intense need to vomit.
She couldn't believe that this was real, that this was really happening. But even the skilled undertaker hadn't unable to hide the telltale scars on the head and sides of Trowa's lifeless body. She had even pinched herself, hoping that it was all a horrible nightmare, but the next day it would prove all too real when the next morning she would get up and Trowa would be gone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Everyone was too absorbed in their own sorrows to notice the anguish of Catherine Bloom. Everyone except a lone pair of sapphire eyes connected to a concerned face. Quatre was the most emotioannly sensitive of all the former Gundam pilots, and as such he knew that different people would be affected differently. Catherine was like a sister to Trowa, and Quatre had the feeling that she was the most deeply affected among the grievers. He had consierd himself the reclusive clown's best friend, but Catherine's relationship with Trowa ran deeper. After the last person had finished speaking, Catherine was led away with the rest of the procession, and Quatre lost her in the crowd. He frowned, hoping she would be okay.
He too remembered the accident. He had seen it along with the rest of the crowd, and he had accompanied her and Trowa to the hospital in the ambulance. They had tried to remove the knife from Trowa's brain, but he had died on the operating table. He remembered Trowa's last words and smiled a bit; if he had known he was dying, maybe he would have chosen something else to say. Quatre had asked Trowa how he was holding up, and the glib pilot resonded, "It hurts like hell."
Then again, maybe he knew he was dying. Hadn't Heero said that after a near trip to the Great Beyond?
The phone rang, distracting him for his reverie. "Hello, Quatre Raberba-Winner speaking."
The person on the other end babbled on for quite some time before Quatre managed to talk him into setting up a meeting for a later date. He sighed, admitting to himself that he was getting tired of long-winded customers. He took a sip of water and decided to call it a day.
Again, the phone rang. "Hello, we are closed for the day. Please call during regular business hours. Thank you," Quatre said, annoyance clear in his voice, preparing to hang up.
"Q-man! Don't hang up!"
Only one person would dare to call the CEO of Raberba Winner Enterptises by that awful nickname. "Duo?"
"It's important," he said.
Quatre sighed. "Another hangover, Duo? You've got to stop these wild parties."
Duo groaned, causing Quatre to be completely unprepared for what he was about to say next. "It's Catherine. She's in the hospital."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*