Chapter Summary: Quatre's "death" and funeral, told from the first-person perspectives of most of the ladies.
Trigger warning: mention of suicide and rape; homophobic language.
Disclaimers, Ratings, Warnings, etc.: See Chapter One.
Gundam Wing © Sunrise/Sotsu. Used without permission and not for profit.
Chapter Three: Tired Mechanical Heart
Yasmin
Why the Hell am I here?
Quatre Raberba Winner was never my little brother; he was nothing more to me than the bastard my father spawned on his pretty little French whore, and a shadh jinsia rijs, an abomination unworthy of bearing Father's name. Quatre was no better than the bastard brat Father spawned on that American whore, and worse, that particular whore was his secretary, of all things. How cliché could he get?
Father should have denounced the abomination when he was twelve and made my Tariq his heir! At least he's a part of Father's ancestral family! Then we could have reclaimed our true surname of al'Fayiz and dropped that damnable English one!
Thankfully, the French whore died shortly after spawning her brat, and since Father was so devout, she was cremated before anyone could think to check her blood for poison, or link it back to me. The only pity was that he didn't die with his mother.
As for Father's by-blow and his American mother, they were both killed before she could ever allow Father to marry her, and before he went through with his frequent attempts to acknowledge the bastard she bore as his and elevate him to Heir.
Oh, Allah... it's the sister of Quatre's shadh jinsiaan sadiqiha. What the Hell is SHE doing here? I'll have to head her off, since the rest of my useless "sisters" are just standing around with their thumbs up their asses. I start to tell her just what her brother is and that she's not welcome here...
She hit me! That little BITCH hit me!
Catherine
How dare that... that bitch... talk about Trowa and Quatre like that?! I don't care if she was his sister, she had no right to say those horrible things...! Trowa loved Quatre...!
Oh, come on, who am I trying to kid here? Trowa didn't love Quatre... he adored him. And while she had no right to say those things about my brother or hers, I had no right to hit her, either, or pop off at the other Gundam pilots. It sure felt damn good...
... But I'm just Trowa's big sister. Most of the people here are related to Quatre, or used to be their friends.
I'd never been more happy or relieved to find out Trowa's my little brother, Triton. What were the odds that we'd find each other twelve years after we were separated? I don't care if he is gay, either, he's still my baby brother. No one has the right to talk about him like he's some kind of a monster! And his so-called "friends" calling him a liar because he believed Quatre was innocent of whatever they were accusing him of! AUUGH!
Oh, shit. One of the other sisters is coming up to me. What the Hell does she want?
"Miss Bloom?" she asked, approaching me with her hand out like I was going to punch her, too. "I'm Doctor Iria Winner, Quatre's eldest sister. I'm pleased to finally get the chance to meet you, even if the circumstances are a lot less than pleasant."
I'm surprised one of Quatre's sisters would be nice to me, especially after that cow said all those horrible things about her own brother, but I knew who she was when she told me her name.
"You're the one Trowa talks about all the time. I feel like I already know you from his description," I said, shaking her hand. "Please, call me Cathy, Dr. Winner."
"Sure thing, but only if you call me Iria," she replied.
We went into the reception room and talked for a long while, drinking coffee and eating sweets. She asked me why Trowa isn't here with me, and I told her what happened. Before I left, she gave me a package to give to Trowa once he's recovered. It's about the size and shape of an optidisk... I'm thinking it's a good-bye letter.
As I left, I shot the other pilots another dirty look, just to remind them of what they're responsible for. They could have helped you, believed you, but they abandoned you instead, and they should never be allowed to forget that.
Iria
Ow.
You can't say you didn't deserve that, Yasmin, because you did.
You were damned and determined to make Quatre's life more of a living hell than it already was, weren't you? And after everything you and that arrogant prick you're married to tried to do to our little brother, you deserved that punch. I only wish I'd been the one to deliver it. I also wish I weren't enjoying your current predicament so much, but you just had to shoot your big, stupid mouth off, didn't you?
And you wonder why people think you're a bitch?
Wonder no more.
Much to my further amusement, Trowa's sister turned around and started yelling at your former friends for selling you out, abandoning you... everything they'd done to you. She let them have it with both barrels, defending you and calling them out on their actions... or lack of actions... while you were falsely accused of being a spy. When she finished, she turned to leave, and I decided that now would be a good time to talk to her.
"Miss Bloom?" I asked, approaching the younger woman with a cautious hand out. "I'm Doctor Iria Winner, Quatre's eldest sister. I'm pleased to finally get the chance to meet you, even if the circumstances are less than pleasant."
She looked at me, surprised, then took my hand, shook it, and said "You're the one Trowa talks about all the time. I feel like I already know you from his description," I said, shaking her hand. "Please, call me Cathy, Dr. Winner."
"Sure thing, but only if you call me Iria."
We wound up in the reception area, talking for quite a while over coffee and sweets, and I found her to be a warm, kind, and charming girl, and I'm not the only one. If the looks coming her way from your friend, Abdul, are anything to judge, I won't be surprised if he's calling on her for a date before the month is out. Calling him smitten would be an understatement.
Before we parted, I gave her the package you wanted me to give to Trowa. She told me he'd fallen ill, so he couldn't make it here today. I inquired further, and I promised her I'd come by the circus and check on him before they left for the US.
Your plan worked, Quatre, but maybe a little too well. I feel guilty letting Catherine and Trowa continue to believe you're dead, but I delivered your message for you. I can't predict how he'll take it when he finally sees what's on it, but I hope it'll help him to find some closure and allow him to move on. You both deserve to find some peace and happiness.
Wherever you wind up, Harira, please remember to take care of yourself, and remember I love you, my dearest baby brother.
Sally
Stupid, arrogant little pricks, all three of them! If it were possible for me to hurt any of them as much as they'd hurt you, Quatre, I would, and they'd deserve it, too!
Then again, I'm not much better, am I? You were completely innocent of the crimes you'd been accused of, but almost no one could see it... or maybe that should be almost no one wanted to see it, not until it was nearly too late. I include myself in the former category; I didn't see it, either, but Trowa did, and he decided to do something about it.
I was so ashamed of my own actions, I couldn't even look at you when Trowa found you and brought you to me that day, bruised, bloody, and barely breathing. You'd been beaten within an inch of your life and sodomized multiple times, and no one was sure if you'd live to tell what happened. All I could do was collect semen and saliva samples and hope they led to catching the animals who'd done that to you.
If your sister Iria had her way, I'd be up on manslaughter charges right now, instead of here at your funeral, and I'd deserve it, too. I left you alone for just a few minutes to give your "friends" a piece of my mind, then I found out you'd somehow managed to slip out of your room, ditched your guards, and climbed up to the roof, all with your eyes swollen shut. You were about to jump, and Trowa reached you in time to stop you.
As it was, Trowa wound up with quite a shiner from that reverse head butt you gave him when he grabbed you off the edge of the roof at HQ, and if he hadn't turned his head so you'd hit his cheek, he would've needed major surgery to even breathe right again. You'd managed to give his cheekbone a good crack, though I'm sure he's forgiven you for that.
All I can hope is that you'll be as forgiving to the rest of us.
Relena
What happened to us, Quatre?
We were friends once, weren't we? Even now, you could tell me anything at all and I'd hear you out, though that might not have been the case a few months ago.
A lot of people thought you might be guilty, including myself, and I had no right to. I mean, the ESUN's entire justice system is based on the presumption of innocence, and as a representative of that system, I should've reminded everyone that you were innocent until proven otherwise, right?
But I didn't, did I. Like every one else, I sat back and judged you without looking beyond the surface, then judged you again when that horrible video was released.
Hiiro's blaming himself for this, and he shouldn't, because we're all to blame.
Hilde
I don't know you.
Oh, don't get me wrong, we've met a few times while I was in the sick bay on Peacemillion and in hospital on MO-2, and you seemed like a nice guy, but the only people I really know here are Duo and Relena, and I'm here for Duo's sake.
He's doing a great job of hiding it from everyone else here, but the truth is, he's devastated. It's like he's lost Solo or Father Maxwell and Sister Helen all over again.
He once told me the two of you were the best of friends, but something happened to make you cut him out of your life. He won't tell me what it was, but it's hurt him a lot. He tries to keep up a cheerful front, but if you look, you can tell much of the joy of living he once felt is gone. Most of the others feel it, too.
I blame you for for what this has done to Duo, and I will never, ever forgive you for it.
Noin
I'm glad Zechs is here with me. I don't think I could have handled this on my own. Losing you feels too much like losing my own little brother, even though Riccardo's alive and well with Mama and Papa in Sicily.
I never turned on you like the others seemed to. I believed you, and in you, no matter what the evidence said. I'm just disappointed that we couldn't prove your innocence sooner.
Rest in peace, Quatre. You deserve it.
Lady Une
Why didn't I listen to you?
Because, while I had a feeling you weren't guilty, I had to follow procedure, and your friends, all but one of whom seemed to believe you guilty, wanted you transferred out. And when it looked like you were as innocent as you claimed to be, Dorothy Catalonia had to stick her creepy, forked eyebrows into it and post that damned video for the entire Sphere to see.
Cousin or not, Treize didn't trust her, and neither do I.
She and Middie are ass-deep in whatever this is, I'd bet my commission on it. My money's on Catalonia bragging first. She has a big mouth, she hates you, and she'll screw over anyone who gets in her way, whether she considers them an ally or not. After all, she screwed over Treize by allying herself with the White Fang during the war, didn't she?
Middie
Quite the turnout for this thing.
If you didn't know better, you'd think Quatre Raberba Winner was once someone important and not a disgraced former CEO and Preventer. And if not for a dust-up between one of Winner's much-older sisters and that circus bitch Nanashi claimed is his big sister, this would be almost boring.
It was difficult to get the four straight guys to... okay, maybe not trust me... I'm pretty sure Nanashi told them all about me and what I did when we were ten... to believe what I told them, but they did.
What wasn't hard was framing the little homo for espionage. My hair, skin, and eyes are almost the same colors as his, so I didn't need makeup or a wig. I'm fairly androgynous looking already, and in my Preventer uniform, with my hair tucked in a cap and my breasts tacked down with a wide elastic bandage, I thought I passed myself off as him pretty well.
Hell, the four idiots certainly bought it until Nanashi brought back the evidence to clear that prissy little blond bastard.
Shit, Dee's giving me the eye again, but I'm not worried. She may suspect I'm somehow involved in framing Winner, but she can't prove it, and I'm not about to give myself away, either.
Not unless Catalonia tries to renege on our deal.
That bitch was the one who got me involved in this mess. She claimed it'd be a great practical joke... some joke... and that it would help me get Nanashi back. Well, thanks to her, he won't even speak to me anymore. Still, it was worth all this to see the look on Winner's face when he heard Nanashi say he'd rather fuck a maggot-ridden corpse, even if he was talking to me at the time I recorded it. It was almost as satisfying as the look he had when I told him Nanashi and I were lovers and getting married.
Nanashi is mine, and if I can't have him, I'll make damn sure no one else can, either.
Dorothy
Why am I HERE?
I HATE Quatre Raberba Winner with all my heart.
Yes, I said "hate," present tense. The little bastard isn't dead. I know it. He didn't have the balls to kill me on Libra, and he hasn't the balls to commit suicide now. Suicide takes a certain amount of courage to commit, and Winner doesn't have any. He's just a frightened little boy running from the big, bad, blonde haired bitch.
So you go ahead and run away, little Winner. Sooner or later, I'll find you, and when I do... you'll be dead for real.
-=0=-
When all was said and done, I wound up not going to my own funeral. The idea was just too morbid for me, and while I may be a lot of things, morbid isn't one of them. I'll leave that crap for Duo and his whole "Shinigami" routine.
Seriously, who the Hell willingly calls himself the God of Death, anyway?
Shaking my head to clear it, I made a beeline to the ticket counter and got into queue. In a few minutes, I'm face to face with the ticket agent, a good-looking man just a couple years older than I am, asking me where I'd like to go.
"A one way ticket to San Francisco, please," I said to him with my most charming smile, even though it didn't reach my eyes.
I know I said I wanted to find a small town in the middle of nowhere to settle down into, but I found out that many of the attitudes of a lot of those towns mirror the attitudes of many of the Colonies, especially where being gay is concerned. Besides, what better place for a emancipated gay minor seeking his freedom to lose himself in than a city which already has a respectable gay community in it?
"Right away, sir," he said, then asked, "will you be flying economy, business, or premium class?"
I thought about it for a moment. I could certainly afford the premium ticket; I mean, I made sure my new identity had plenty of money, but a lone teenager flying premium or business class might look suspicious. I opted for economy and swiped my credit card as he rang it up a moment later.
Boarding the supersonic transport, I quickly found my seat, buckled myself up, and settled in for a short nap. In a few hours, I'll be landing in the City by the Bay, and staying in another cheap hotel until I can figure out what I'm going to do next...
I can't wait.
To be continued...
- = 0 = -
Author's Note: Dorothy's views on Quatre and suicide aren't mine; they're what I think hers would be on the subjects. I still, at times, think of her as the crazy platinum bitch who hadn't learned anything from two wars between Earth and the Colonies, and tried to incite the people of Brussels to riot in Endless Waltz.
NO, Duo is NOT Quatre's half-brother in this; as I mentioned in Chapter One, his brother's name was Christopher Alexander Thomas (Thomas was his mother's maiden name), he died in an Alliance raid at the age of eight, and Cat took on his identity.
Oh, in case you were wondering, Yasmin is sort-of a parody of a lot of antis I and othe shipper have dealt with in recent months, including some who think Quatre is an manipulative abuser.
Shadh jinsia rijs is Arabic for "faggot abomination," and shadh jinsiaan sadiqiha translates to "faggot boyfriend."
Next Chapter: The incident mentioned in the first three chapters, told from Quatre's first-person perspective. Warning: there will be graphic depictions of physical violence, bullying, sexual harassment, and gang rape.
For the squeamish, there will be an edited version posted on Fanfiction Dot Net.