Trowa sat in the darkness of pre-dawn, alone as usual. He always wanted to be alone. The loneliness, in a way, kept him company. Trowa had always been a soldier, as far back as he could remember. He didn't know his name, his parents, or where he was born. Nanashi(1) he had always been, Nanashi he would always be. Soon the others would wake up, come downstairs, and find him sitting at the table. Alone, again. Heero would be up first. Trowa knew he suffered from the same problems as he did, mainly Post War Syndrome. Quatre would ask why he was down here, why he was alone when he was living with them. Duo would offer some of his sleeping pills. Wu Fei would keep him company with his silence. Wu Fei. Someone even Trowa couldn't really understand. He was like Trowa and Heero, yet unlike them. He was unlike Quatre, and unlike Duo, yet in a strange way, frighteningly similar. Wu Fei was hiding something, as Trowa was. Trowa's secret was dark and deep, a secret all of his own. No one had discovered it yet, and he doubted that anyone ever would. Trowa heard faint footsteps on the stairs. Heero. Heero was up early. Usually the strange boy would come down just as the sun was beginning to rise. Perhaps he was having bad dreams as well. Yet, what would Heero have to have bad dreams about? He was the perfect soldier, and had no feelings. But what if that was just a lie? A lie much like Trowa's own. Their faces said that they had no emotions, yet in their hearts.perhaps they both had those dark secrets. The secrets so horrible, you couldn't speak of them to anyone, even if you knew it would help. No light came on. Perhaps Heero liked the dark as well. The darkness was comforting in a way. It kept the shadows from haunting you, kept the sounds from scaring you. Darkness wrapped around and protected you, on that day. Silently, Trowa got up and took the pot of coffee he had made earlier, bringing it to the table. Two cups soon followed it on its trip to the wooden surface. Without a word, the two boys exchanged glances in the fading darkness. They each took a cup and filled it with the warm, rejuvenating liquid. Coffee was a blessing, even if it was bad for you. To a person who suffers from insomnia, coffee is the difference between life and death, health or sickness. It helps you concentrate on things other than your bad memories. Trowa didn't know if Heero relished his coffee as much as he did. Looking over subtly, he saw the look the Perfect Soldier had on his face while drinking it. It was the same. Heero definitely did enjoy his coffee as much as he did. That was strange. Maybe it meant that he could tell Heero about his bad dreams. Heero didn't seem like a person who could console a broken heart, but if he suffered from the same things, why wouldn't he be able to help? Trowa put down his cup, signaling that he wanted to talk. "Bad dreams Heero?" He asked, watching the shadows play with Heero's features. To his surprise, the smaller boy put down his cup as well, offering a small nod. "Yeah. You?" "Same." Trowa replied. Boy, this was a moving conversation. What did he expect? Neither of them really talked much, and neither of them stated more than necessary. But Trowa felt a need to go further. Something told him that if he didn't explain now, he would never get another chance at help. "I had dreams.about my childhood." To his surprise, Heero didn't scoff at him, turn away, or leave. He answered. "What about?" The boy prompted. For some reason, Trowa heard himself say, "About when someone.did something to me." Heero's face told him to continue. "Some guy, he." Trowa's voice cracked. He couldn't say it. Lifting his head, he realized that he didn't have to. His eyes told the story for him. Heero's face melted in compassion. In a voice that was not his, he replied, "You don't have to live in pain Trowa. You can be healed." Trowa's lips started to quiver. "I.want to be forgiven." He said softly. "You already have been Trowa. And you will now be healed." Heero's shape walked over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. The boy shimmered, taking on light, and shifting his shape to reveal an angel. The angel whispered a prayer, and disappeared. Trowa felt the pain in his heart receding. He felt drops of moisture form in his eyes. He gave a shudder, letting go of the last of his horrible memories. And with that, Trowa cried. (1)Nanashi means 'no name Hey. I hope you enjoyed the story. I have been convinced both ways on the Trowa abuse story. I decided to take a break from Heero, and this is what I came up with. I hope you enjoyed it! And please, review! Jet P.s. I don't' own GW!