Full summary: Dorothy Catalonia was untouchable at her high school, and then she fell from grace at the hands of a nasty rumor. Now, her only friendship lies with the artistic and soft-spoken Quatre Winner, who Dorothy is noticing something increasingly strange about... AU Quatre/Dorothy T for language and probably disturbing scenes.
A/N: For some reason I decided I wanted another fanfiction project. I don't know why since having four projects on rotation nearly killed me. I believe it all started with wingzerohuggles' Quatre/Dorothy video to a Fall Out Boy song. Anyway, lets get started before I bore you guys to death.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or make a profit from this.
"Oh, paper cut?" I dug in my purse for a band-aid as my best friend, Quatre Winner, toyed with the edges of the cut.
I'm Dorothy Catalonia, and I used to be queen bitch of this high school. Now I've been degraded to the mutt section – AKA the nerds – because my best friend got mad and spread a rumor that I spread my legs to any guy that asked.
That caused numerous other problems for me, but we'll get to that later.
"Don't pick at it, you'll make it worse." I slapped Quatre's uninjured hand away from the one with the paper cut and put the band-aid on his finger.
"Thank you, Dorothy." Quatre gave me a shaky smile and then peered down at our collage. "Is Ms. Lake really going to like this?"
"The idea was to combine two things so effectively that they looked as if they were one." I explained. For an artistic nerd, Quatre sure gave me a lot of trouble about these things. "We chose to do a collage of our lives, and it looks fine."
He mumbled something I didn't quite catch, but I didn't ask. Sometimes Quatre just talked to himself, and I had learned that no matter of cooing or yelling- or any combination - would make him tell you what he said. It was a battle you would lose every time, every way.
"Don't look so sad. I promise we won't get a bad grade on this." I crawled over to him and hugged him tightly. We had only started to get to know each other a little less than a month before, but he seemed pretty damn attached to me. Considering he only talked to one other person, Trowa Barton the poster child for emo, his attachment to me was obvious.
"I'm not sad." Quatre murmured, and he gave me a bright smile. It was fake, I could tell though.
"I know you." I hadn't let him go yet, and didn't intend to until I got an answer. "Don't mess with the fox, you'll get the teeth."
Quatre looked away, but as he struggled out of my grip I grabbed his wrist. Consequently, his sleeve got pushed up in the struggle, and I realized that there were scars – and fresh cuts – all over his wrist.
"Quatre..." I began slowly, my anger building. "You idiot!" Despite my harsh words, I pulled him into a tight hug. "Stop it. This doesn't resolve any problems. You know better than to do something like that to yourself, what's wrong with you?"
"You don't understand..." Quatre whispered, his voice edgy. "You don't get it, you just don't."
"What don't I get?" I locked my arms around him like iron bars. "Tell me what I don't get so I can get it, Quatre. I want to help you."
"I... I killed my mother." Quatre whispered. "It's my fault she's dead. I can't stop, alright?"
I took a deep breath in, because even I knew Quatre wasn't a murderer. "What do you mean?"
He avoided my gaze and then slowly began...
A/N: Be aware that all is not as it seems. If you know what's going on, I'm proud of you for making the connection. Yes, this is going to be an incredibly dark fanfic, but I will try my best to keep it rated T. Anyway, anyone want to give me their opinion?