"How's he been?" Hilde asked Relena when the blonde opened the door
to the Winner mansion. Everyone was taking turns taking care of the baby
girl that Quatre had not yet named. They waited for him to do it.
Relena shook her head gravely. "Not much better," she said, her voice as dead as her expression. "He won't come out of his room and he hasn't even seen her yet.
Hilde knew immediately who 'her' was and nodded. "Go home to Heero. I'll stay here tonight," she said gently.
Relena nodded and went into the livingroom, then soon appeared with a small bag on her arm. "She's in the livingroom," Relena said before she departed.
Hilde went into the livingroom where a small baby was sleeping in a playpen for children. It had platinum blonde hair that was shiny like Dorothy's. Hilde wanted to cry when she saw her. She was immediately brought to the day of the funeral.
It was a dark day, as though the skies of Earth were mourning for Dorothy, and many people had appeared. They were all friends or close associates of Dorothy and the park was filled with black. Quatre had shown up for a bit, then he left. That was even before the priest began the eulogy.
There were sobs heard everywhere and Hilde didn't find it too unusual that Quatre had left, but she didn't expect him to retreat into his room for the entire month.
The baby in the pen reminded Hilde so much of Dorothy. Not only in appearance, but in demeanor. She was so quiet and so obedient, and yet seemed so intelligent and outspoken when she had to be to get her point across to others, such as when she wanted milk. But she didn't remind Hilde only of her friend, but of the pain Quatre was now going through. It was amazing how something so fragile and beautiful could cause so much pain.
Hilde resigned herself to the couch and pulled out a magazine, reading.
"She's almost a year old! She can't go on unnamed," Hilde protested to Duo, who was playing with the blonde girl in his arms. Her hair had grown shoulder-length and she looked like the image of her mother with those steely, blue eyes of hers.
Duo shook his head firmly to his wife. "No. Quatre should be able to name his own child."
"But what if he never comes out of that room?"
"He will," Duo said softly. "Hilde, trust me. Quatre will get over it."
Hilde shook her head. "He won't. He loved Dorothy. I fear that he's going to be stuck in that funk all his life. His daughter shouldn't have to suffer because of it."
"Let's compromise," Duo said after a long silence. "We'll take him upstairs and make him see her on her birthday. How's that?"
Hilde sighed. It wasn't the plan she had in mind, but it was more than she expected out of her hotheaded husband. "Fine."
Quatre lay in bed. He stared blankly at the sidewall and turned up only when he heard the knock at his door. "Who is it?" he asked, his voice raspy. He hadn't eaten much or drunk much in the past week. Or at least he thought so. One easily lost track of time when one had been lying in bed for about a year. In fact, he only got up to go to the bathroom.
"Quatre, there's someone that wants to see you," came Sally's gentle voice.
Quatre looked up. "Who?"
"Your daughter," Trowa said from the other side.
This immediately woke Quatre from his trance. His daughter. Gods, he hadn't even laid eyes on her yet. What did she look like? He suddenly began to wonder as he stood up and groggily walked to the door. Then he paused. His daughter. Dorothy. What would he do when he saw her? He wasn't ready to be a father by himself. Dorothy wasn't there to help him.
"I-" he began, but he trailed off.
"Quatre?" Relena asked on the other side. "Don't you want to see her?"
Quatre paused. Did he?
"Quatre, open the door," Duo said firmly and yet gently.
He would have to face it sooner or later. He would have to face Dorothy's death. He opened the door slowly to see all his friends standing outside. In Hilde's arms was a baby girl staring at him with big turquoise eyes and shiny, sharp platinum blonde hair.
"It's your daughter," Hilde said softly.
All of Quatre's doubts went away. Hilde set the baby in his arms and his lips twitched in a smile. "Dorothy," he finally said. "My baby Dorothy."
::Warning:: The author is trying to choke herself. Hehe. How sappy was that? ::sweatdrop:: Well, that's it. Please review. Jya!
Relena shook her head gravely. "Not much better," she said, her voice as dead as her expression. "He won't come out of his room and he hasn't even seen her yet.
Hilde knew immediately who 'her' was and nodded. "Go home to Heero. I'll stay here tonight," she said gently.
Relena nodded and went into the livingroom, then soon appeared with a small bag on her arm. "She's in the livingroom," Relena said before she departed.
Hilde went into the livingroom where a small baby was sleeping in a playpen for children. It had platinum blonde hair that was shiny like Dorothy's. Hilde wanted to cry when she saw her. She was immediately brought to the day of the funeral.
It was a dark day, as though the skies of Earth were mourning for Dorothy, and many people had appeared. They were all friends or close associates of Dorothy and the park was filled with black. Quatre had shown up for a bit, then he left. That was even before the priest began the eulogy.
There were sobs heard everywhere and Hilde didn't find it too unusual that Quatre had left, but she didn't expect him to retreat into his room for the entire month.
The baby in the pen reminded Hilde so much of Dorothy. Not only in appearance, but in demeanor. She was so quiet and so obedient, and yet seemed so intelligent and outspoken when she had to be to get her point across to others, such as when she wanted milk. But she didn't remind Hilde only of her friend, but of the pain Quatre was now going through. It was amazing how something so fragile and beautiful could cause so much pain.
Hilde resigned herself to the couch and pulled out a magazine, reading.
"She's almost a year old! She can't go on unnamed," Hilde protested to Duo, who was playing with the blonde girl in his arms. Her hair had grown shoulder-length and she looked like the image of her mother with those steely, blue eyes of hers.
Duo shook his head firmly to his wife. "No. Quatre should be able to name his own child."
"But what if he never comes out of that room?"
"He will," Duo said softly. "Hilde, trust me. Quatre will get over it."
Hilde shook her head. "He won't. He loved Dorothy. I fear that he's going to be stuck in that funk all his life. His daughter shouldn't have to suffer because of it."
"Let's compromise," Duo said after a long silence. "We'll take him upstairs and make him see her on her birthday. How's that?"
Hilde sighed. It wasn't the plan she had in mind, but it was more than she expected out of her hotheaded husband. "Fine."
Quatre lay in bed. He stared blankly at the sidewall and turned up only when he heard the knock at his door. "Who is it?" he asked, his voice raspy. He hadn't eaten much or drunk much in the past week. Or at least he thought so. One easily lost track of time when one had been lying in bed for about a year. In fact, he only got up to go to the bathroom.
"Quatre, there's someone that wants to see you," came Sally's gentle voice.
Quatre looked up. "Who?"
"Your daughter," Trowa said from the other side.
This immediately woke Quatre from his trance. His daughter. Gods, he hadn't even laid eyes on her yet. What did she look like? He suddenly began to wonder as he stood up and groggily walked to the door. Then he paused. His daughter. Dorothy. What would he do when he saw her? He wasn't ready to be a father by himself. Dorothy wasn't there to help him.
"I-" he began, but he trailed off.
"Quatre?" Relena asked on the other side. "Don't you want to see her?"
Quatre paused. Did he?
"Quatre, open the door," Duo said firmly and yet gently.
He would have to face it sooner or later. He would have to face Dorothy's death. He opened the door slowly to see all his friends standing outside. In Hilde's arms was a baby girl staring at him with big turquoise eyes and shiny, sharp platinum blonde hair.
"It's your daughter," Hilde said softly.
All of Quatre's doubts went away. Hilde set the baby in his arms and his lips twitched in a smile. "Dorothy," he finally said. "My baby Dorothy."
::Warning:: The author is trying to choke herself. Hehe. How sappy was that? ::sweatdrop:: Well, that's it. Please review. Jya!