Sheer madness

The room revolved around him like a carousel, and Quatre laughed, drowning in a twisted happiness. Trowa had been watching him carefully, scowling every time Quatre had tried to speak but would fail miserably, incoherent sounds coming out of his mouth instead.

The reason why Trowa looked so serious was unknown to Quatre. Especially, when life was so fantastically wonderful at the moment, and everything was so shiny and colorful and gleaming with shiny colors around him, and had he mentioned shiny and colorful?

Trowa regretted a lot of things in his life, but offering soporific pills to Quatre had to be the biggest of his regrets. Yes, the pills had calmed Quatre down, and, instead of chattering endlessly, the boy had been just sitting, grinning like a maniac, gasping and making other random, squeaky sounds, apparently overwhelmed at the shininess that surrounded him, when, as a matter of fact, it wasn't shiny at all, but rather gloomy and cold due to the rain.

Duo stood speechless, gazing back and forth from Trowa who was dripping wet and then to the blonde boy sitting by the dinning table that was bouncing and squealing softly.

"I gave him pain-killers," Trowa explained coolly.

Duo looked down at Quatre who was brushing the ends of his braid against his own flushed cheeks and nose.

"And by pain-killers you mean drugs?"

Trowa didn't dignify that with an answer, and shrugged in response.

"Well," Catherine cut in after leaving the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. "He definitely looks happier."

Of course, Catherine's opinion didn't count, Duo thought. She always looked at the bright side of everything, so much like Quatre at the moment.

"So shiny," Quatre said in a clear voice, to Duo's surprise and Trowa's relief since that meant he was coming back to his senses. Quatre was admiring Duo's hair, which was so beautiful and shiny and soft and shiny like cinnamon buns with lots of whipped cream on top. Duo had the best hair ever.

Catherine sighed contentedly, and went to put the groceries in the fridge when a thought hit her. "Isn't Heero coming?" she asked leisurely. "I hope this food is enough. Locals said it was dangerous to go outside. A storm is coming."

"Great." Duo threw his hands in the air. Two of the things he dreaded the most were coming. And, when he cynically thought life couldn't get any more perfect, a knock was heard.

Then they knocked again, startling Duo. Everyone else looked serene, except for Quatre of course who looked cheerful for no apparent reason.

Duo knew it was him. Heero Yuy. No one knocked like that, with so much precision and resolution, and the exactly same amount of time elapsing between knocks. Duo started to hyperventilate as he looked around for a possible way out. He flung his arms to his head, pulling softly at his bangs in a desperate manner. He realized everyone was looking at him like he had gone insane.

"Shut up," Duo snapped before running away.

Both Catherine and Trowa looked at Duo as he fled into the bathroom and locked himself inside. Trowa knew then why Duo and Quatre were best friends. Duo was absolutely sarcastic, fidgety and apprehensive while Quatre was cheerful, self-centered and oblivious. They complemented each other in a twisted yet perfect way.

"Okay," Catherine said long after Duo was out of sight, and went to welcome their newest guest who, judging by the ever louder knocks, was getting impatient.

Catherine opened the door and it wasn't long until the newcomer hurried into the house, stepping quietly as drops of rain water fell from his damp hair. He was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a plain shirt, ignorant to the storm notice.

Catherine gasped lightly at the sight while pressing her open palm against her chest in a quite dramatic gesture. "Look at you! You are all wet!" She hurried to the kitchen, looking for a towel.

"You don't say," the boy named Heero Yuy replied, the cynical remark completely dulled by the unexpressive pitch of his voice. Though he was completely drenched in cold water he tried to glare but failed as his brown hair was plastered to the front of his face, covering his eyes.

Catherine didn't answer, perhaps already used to that kind of attitude after having a brother that constantly looked void of basic emotions.

"And you are freezing as well!" She threw the towel over Heero's head, rubbing it vehemently against his hair. Heero's head swayed from side to side as Catherine dried his hair and, after she was done, he was rewarded with a very messy hairstyle.

Quatre had to admit Heero looked rather sexy, with his dark hair all mussed falling over his face of perfect lines and manly structure, and his tight shirt and jeans clinging to his wet form, it was so heavenly until he realized he wasn't looking at Heero at all, but was actually looking at Trowa, which was actually so much better. Trowa was taller. Taller was good.

"Where is he?" Heero demanded abruptly but Catherine remained silent.

"In the bathroom," Quatre smiled at Heero, pointing his finger in the general direction of a wooden door. "It's good to see you again."

Heero didn't ignore how the always tidy Quatre seemed so messy. The blonde looked drunk to say the least, with his cheeks all flushed and his eyelids half-closed, but apparently very happy, very groggily happy.

"Good to see you too, kid." Heero patted Quatre's shoulder lightly and walked close to the bathroom door that remained closed.

Trowa noticed how everyone seemed to know Quatre except for himself. Heero seemed to like Quatre, admitting openly he was glad to see him as well. Even his own sister was fond of the oh-so adorable Quatre, and while Catherine was always fond of everyone, she seemed fonder than usual. Trowa allowed himself to think he couldn't blame them for liking the boy, because while lying to others was easy, lying to himself about his feeling was so much harder, and yes, he really couldn't blame them for liking little Quatre.

"What's the matter, Trowa?" Quatre flung his arms up, reaching for Trowa's distant form, urging him to come closer, close enough for Trowa to regret it.

It was awkward, and Trowa was thankful no one was paying attention to him, to the brief yet noticeable expression of uneasiness on his face.

"Open the door, Duo," Heero grunted long enough to distract Trowa away from his thoughts.

"I want a hug," Quatre demanded softly, and once again there was no one there to witness his actions.

It was unfair how Quatre seemed so fixated with Trowa when he could get a hug just from anyone. The tall man was just glad Quatre hadn't pouted. Pouting was impossible to fight against, an assumption that made Trowa realize how absurd and unfamiliar his own thoughts were to himself, to his old self perhaps. He just met Quatre a day ago, and everything was suddenly uncertain, wrong and scary.

"No," Duo yelled from the opposite side of the door.

"I just drove for 14 hours. Please," Heero added in a softer tone, but looked genuinely annoyed.

"She set me up." Duo whimpered.

"I know." Heero sighed, rubbing at his temples. "Open the door so we can discuss it."

"Hug. Now." Quatre pouted defiantly, flailing his arms around.

"I won't!" Trowa snapped and everyone stopped to stare at him, including Quatre who recovered momentarily from his drugged state and seemed quite upset. "I won't… let you stay there forever, Duo!" Trowa continued quickly, but everyone remained silent, puzzled. "I need to use the bathroom."

"Right," Heero said, and then resumed his negotiations with Duo.

"Go away," Duo said, the statement sounding more like a plea than a command.

Heero kept quiet for a few seconds and then smirked as an idea came to his mind. "I've got my laptop," he offered suggestively.

"Okay." A long silence followed, interrupted briefly by the sound of Duo unlocking the door.

As soon as the door was opened Heero launched himself across the doorway, kissing Duo deeply while Duo decided to hook a leg around his waist and dig his fingers into Heero's back, seeking for balance as his former boyfriend kept pushing into the kiss. They both stumbled into the tiny bathroom, as muffled moans were heard, and then Heero kicked the door, slamming it shut.

Both Catherine and Trowa stared in silence at the closed door.

"I think I'm a little turned on now," Quatre said casually. "But I'm not so sure it's safe to use that bathroom ever again."

The brothers looked down at Quatre who was no longer sitting by the dinning table, but standing between them. The short blonde looked back, blinking his aquamarine eyes innocently.

"And here I was thinking these vacations were going to be boring as hell," Catherine commented, staring at his brother who looked quite disturbed. "You should dry yourself as well."

"No," Quatre protested, leaning until his head landed softly on Trowa's arm. "I like you wet."

"I need to do…" Trowa's mouth hung open as he thought over what to say next. "Do something in… the attic." He made a long pause, getting distracted as Quatre's small hands slipped into his rear pocket. "Significant stuff," he managed to say at last.

It was too late to pretend, Trowa knew that. Catherine was too smart not to notice it. She was his sister after all, the one person that knew everything about him.

"Oh, I'm sure." Catherine rolled her eyes and saw as her brother dashed upstairs, and into the dusty, forsaken attic, uninhabited by any kind of distracting blondes. Trowa could be such a coward sometimes.

"I like your brother," Quatre whispered to Catherine. He was still on whatever was making him that happy, but she was sure that was a real confession.

"He's very lucky then," Catherine whispered back, patting Quatre's head.

Quatre nodded in agreement, and then stifled a yawn that his kind host couldn't ignore.

"Go take a nap." Catherine offered him a sweet smile. She was a lot like her brother, only physically of course, but that was still so enjoyable.

"Pills make me sleepy." Quatre rubbed his eyes, and followed Catherine upstairs to his own bedroom. "Just a quick nap," he mumbled as Catherine tucked him into bed.

Catherine left before witnessing the gradual change in Quatre's sleeping state. Mere whimpers, ignited by nightmares he only knew about, low at first just to become into loud, clear wails. Flipping and tossing around, as he fought against a reality that existed only to him. Sweating, sheets clung to his clammy skin. He tried to kick the bundle of covers away but to no avail. He was too weak, too small. Too oblivious of the fact that he was fighting no one but himself.

To be continued like WHOAH...

OMG PEOPLE! I LOVE YOU ALL!

I took longer to update because school just started and physics and math are some bitches. Anyway PEOPLE! LOVE YOU AND ALL YOUR COMMENTS!

Honourable mention to SkittleGoddess for being so great! and like for always reviewing and OMG I OWE YOU SO MUCH BLANKET FICS!!! I WANT TO GLOMP YOU, CAN I? CAN I?!

And thanks to TheReader for encouraging me. I must admit I was a little insecure at first, but thanks for the comment. And yes, everytime I start writing a fic/story I'm not sure how it would end, so choosing a genre at first is a little hard for me. I just write and expect it to come out good.

Thanks to rowen raven as well! yes, you noticed how confused Trowa must feel! you deserve a kiss!

and to lo!!!! thanks for the compliment, babe!

Anyway, I'm again posting this very late and without a beta-reader I'm sure there are some mistakes. POINT THEM OUT DAMMIT!

Thanks again! R&R!!!!