Honesty
Sidefic in the Rhythm Emotion Cycle. This is just a Trinity POV story. It's the mission that's mentioned in the epilogue of Apathy. Very little in the way of our gundam boys, but please remember that the pairings mentioned will be 2x5, 1x4, 3xOFC. And of course, OCxOC. Reading Apathy, or any of the other stories is not needed, though it would be helpful. (And I would give you lots of huggles for reviewing it!)
Just remember that Trinity is Duo and Wufei's adopted daughter- and that she's an empath like Quatre.
Dedication: To everyone who loved and reviewed Apathy... this is for you!
Disclaimer: I don't own GW, not a bit. But Trinity (and Brandon) are my creations and if you'd like to use them, just ask because I have no trouble lending them out! ^_^
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Honesty
Chapter One
Empathy is a tricky thing. Trust me. As an empath- and more- I know this first hand.
Empathy, like everything else, has it's loopholes. Such as the fact that really talented people can shield their own emotions, or even project false ones. My Papa was one of the first types. He's learned to completely keep me out of his head when he wants to. Daddy's even better than that. He can usually project a false emotion. Make me think he's happy when he's really angry- things such as that.
But I haven't lived with him for so many years without learning a trick or two of my own. I can tell, with him at least, if the emotion is false or genuine and usually break past it to the truth. And right now, the calm acceptance and peaceful happiness he exuded reeked. It was about as natural as Uncle Heero doing the chicken dance and singing the 'macarena'. And that particular thing had happened just *once*, mind you....
"Stop it," I snap, trying to break that fake emotion, pushing will all my (considerable) mental force. But they're stronger than most, and the calm dosen't go away, but it cracks, and just a bit of extreme worry slips through.
"Stop it, you two," I repeat, but not as loud or angry. "It's not the end of the world. I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself."
"We know that," Papa says soothingly, petting my hair. His obsidian eyes are really hard and usually cold, but he lets just a bare hint of his worry show through in them. "But you're still our baby girl. It will always worry us when you do things like this. We will accept it... you know that better than we do. But that doesn't mean we're going to like it. We're never going to like you going on these dangerous missions."
Some of my righteous anger simply bleeds away. I understand that. They'd seen me defenseless... and I've gotta say that's a pretty scary... and kinda depressing... thing. I reach out and wrap my arms around him. It's still a little surprising that at only seventeen, I'm taller than him. Not quite as tall as Daddy... but I'm still getting there. I'll probably outgrow Daddy within the year.
Apparently, I kinda hit the genetic lottery. I got uber-intelligence ( I'd finished advanced astrophysics by the time I'd hit puberty.) I got super-mutant new-type abilities. ( Like empathy, limited clairvoyance, a limited semi-telepathic skill, and other super-girl powers) And I got lucky in looks too. (As a skinny, short, tiny-for-her-age six year old, I'd been cute and angelic with curly light brown hair and big brown eyes. As a slender, athletically built teenager, I still had the curly hair, which, after long summers on Earth, is now a lighter, honey blond color, and longer, too... like, it reached to my thighs. I was tall, with beautiful amber eyes and yet I still looked much younger than I was.) You'd think I'd be ecstatically thrilled, but I'm just... not. When you have people who want to study you, people who want to kill you, and then people who just think you're weird... you kinda aren't in an ecstatically thrilled mood.
But at least I had my awesome fathers, always there to protect me. Even if I didn't always need that protection. As in... like, now.
"I understand, Papa. I do. But I want you to be happy for me. I like my job. You're the one who inspired me to join the Preventers. I'm good at this."
I'm the youngest person in the Preventers Agency. And I'm the youngest person to ever join. Papa was sixteen when he signed up. Uncle Ro was almost seventeen. I beat them both out by a few months. I enlisted- against my parents wishes- the day before my sixteenth birthday. So far, I've done pretty good. Because of my age- and her understandable fear of my parents, Une keeps most of my work easy and simple, but occasionally my unique abilities and upbringing qualify me for harder, more dangerous, missions. Like this one.
Four days ago, Brandon Carter- the twenty-four year old cousin of family friend and fellow Preventer Eric Hardy... and a genius in his own right... was kidnapped. We knew that they wanted him for his scientific mind and not just his money (The Carter's were L3's most prominent family). And seeing as I was the only active Preventer with experience against his captors, I was automatically assigned as the one-woman rescue squad.
My parents had fought very hard when Tomas Delecroix had came up for parole five years ago. Because Papa had been there and heard when Tomas and his then commander Dee Bragnon had talked about, well, about raping me. Papa was pissed. So was I. Although Bragnon's death was entirely accidental; I hadn't meant to kill him.
Oh. Maybe I should mention that I was six at the time.
Yeah.
Remember the thing about people wanting to kill me? Safe to say that Tomas Delecroix was one of those people.
"You aregood at this," Daddy said, his eyes sparkling with checked tears. He dropped all pretenses and I felt the worry and pride and mixture of emotions wash over me. I reach out and bring him into the hug, too, burying my face in his neck. I love them both so much. Nothing that anyone could tell me would ever convince me that they were not my parents. Genetics and Halliwell's be damned... I was Trinity Maxwell-Chang... and I always would be.
"I wouldn't go if I thought something bad would happen. Daddy, Papa. I need to go now," I say, my voice thick. I will not cry. I will not let them see my cry.
"Be safe, Trin," Papa whispers into my hair, kissing my head.
"And when you find that bastard Delecroix... kick his ass for me, kay?" Daddy asks with a lopsided grin.
I smile as I kiss his cheek and turn to leave. Trust Daddy to lighten the mood.
"Sure thing. Love you," I promise as I walk out of the orphanage that was my home. It's sort of a tradition in our family. Never say goodbye... and never make a promise you don't know if you can keep.
But I couldn't help but wonder as I got onto the sleek silver motorcycle and started it- heading for the space port. What if my newtype intuition was wrong? What if I died on this mission... and I'd never told them goodbye?