Disclaimer- see Ch. 1

Warnings – shounen-ai, war themes, language, slightly OOCness, AU, movie quotes (yes I'm serious, that requires a warning…), Relena's not exactly a pacifist anymore, (If there're any questions about the Blood Feud, feel free to ask. It'll get explained a bit more later on.)

Fight or Flight

Chapter Eight – A Message in Dreams

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Quatre was not having a good day.

Well, honestly, the past week hadn't been all that great for the blonde boy, but technically the day had just started and it had already earned the description 'hellacious.'

Once the girls were somewhat settled, he had helped Catherine and Trowa cook breakfast for everyone. The food had been greeted boisterously, but once it had been consumed, the lack of sleep had caught up to everyone. Heero had made one comment to Duo and Duo had turned and cussed him out, then stormed out of the room to go work on the rest of the cars. Dorothy and Relena were arguing with Wufei about high-ranking women in the military, specifically whether or not there should be any, and Dorothy looked close to slugging the oblivious boy. Trowa and Sally were the only ones having a civil conversation, but they were discussing their pets so there wasn't a whole lot of room for arguing beyond whose pet was better, (and seeing as Sally had a Golden Retriever and Trowa had two lions, Quatre didn't think there was an argument there anyway. "My pet could eat yours," was all Trowa would have to say to win that argument.) Catherine was sitting next to Quatre looking sleepy and keeping an eye on Dorothy in case she did decide to kill Wufei.

His mind finally tuned out everyone around him and turned once again to Romafellar. They needed more information. They needed more soldiers, more supplies, more time. A week and a half until Duke Dermail arrived, and they needed to be ready well before then. He still didn't know where all the soldiers and cadets were being kept, but at least they knew Kushrenada, Merquise and the scientists were in Barge. That made it no easier to get them out of Barge, but at least he knew where they were.

He had no way of getting word out to anyone who could help without risking their safety. Who knew how well Romafellar was monitoring activity in the supposedly deserted cities surrounding Barge. Quatre sighed inwardly and rubbed his aching forehead. For all he knew, they had already noticed the teenage boys joyriding around the city at odd times of night.

A soft hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up into smiling green eyes. Catherine gave him another reassuring squeeze. "You alright, kid?"

Quatre nodded slowly, unaware that he looked as worn as he felt. "Yeah. Just tired."

"I know you've got a lot of pressure on you right now, but I'm sure your boys have faith in you. The whole school knew you were the youngest cadet Kushrenada ever trained, and Trowa said you were brilliant. They look up to your leadership skills and we believe in you, too. Don't let them run you ragged."

Quatre may have been playing the part of General, but that didn't stop him from squeaking and turning bright red at the praise. "Trowa said that?"

She smiled once more and stood up, yawning and stretching. "I don't know about you, but I sure could use a nap."

He nodded and stood. "Alright guys." Everyone paused and he looked around the room, from Sally and Trowa waiting patiently, to Dorothy in the process of attempting to hook Wufei's chair out from underneath him without him noticing. "We're taking the day off."

Everyone but Catherine gave him a strange look and Wufei stood up. "Shouldn't we be doing something productive? Shooting people, or getting information or… blowing something up or something?"

Quatre shook his head. "We got information, and we found the girls. I am tired. I am going to sleep until nightfall. We will do base recon then." He ignored Wufei, who looked like he wanted to argue and went downstairs to grab a change of clothes. Trowa and the girls followed him. A moment later Wufei came down as well, a grudging look on his face.

As Quatre was heading upstairs once more, he paused by Duo and yelled, "We're reconvening at nightfall. You can do whatever you want until then. I would recommend you get some sleep."

Duo's braid flew up and down as he nodded. "I have a couple more things to do on the cars, then I will."

Quatre nodded and went toward the east side of the building, darker due its lack of windows. Trowa was climbing the stairs as Quatre stumbled into the darkest room he could find. Two sleeping bags lay in the middle with a gun near each one. Quatre quickly shed his jacket, shirt and shoes, tucking himself into a sleeping bag with a sigh of relief. He watched silently as Trowa entered the room, pulled off his vest and shoes and fell into bed, still wearing a grey tank top and his black pants. His dog tags jingled slightly as he arranged himself, a reassuring sound that reminded Quatre of the five of them back in their bunks at the Academy. It was this sound that he fell asleep to, seconds later.

In his dream, Quatre stood suspended over a giant chessboard. The as-yet unlocated Skyfire was a silent presence at his side, motioning for him to study the scene before him. On the white side, the pieces were his friends and comrades. Heero stood in the King's position, with Relena next to him as the Queen. They were flanked by Duo, Wufei, Trowa, Dorothy, Catherine and Sally, and defended by General Noventa's faceless soldiers. On the black side, all the pieces wore military uniforms. A few of the faces he recognized from his cultural studies class; Duke Dermail, Tuberov, Dekim Barton. Those that he didn't know had slightly shadowed faces, as though because he didn't recognize them, the details were harder to make out. As he stood and watched, the board began to play itself out, the pieces moving silently. He watched as his friends managed to surround the enemies' pieces, picking them off one by one before capturing the shadowed figure in the king's place. Then the pieces vanished and reappeared in their starting places. This time it was his comrades who were hunted. He watched in silent horror as first Wufei, then Trowa fell. Dorothy managed to take out several opponents before falling to the faceless queen. Finally Duo was shot as he struggled to defend Heero, and then Heero himself was killed. Once more, the pieces reset themselves, locked into another silent battle. As he watched the horror repeat itself over and over Skyfire opened his mouth, but it was Kushrenada's deep voice that echoed through the vast space.

To be not only a good General but a truly effective one, you must be able to find and plan for the exponential situations that may arise. For example, let us say that we are storming a castle. A rather old fashioned notion, I know, but let us pretend. When you formulate a plan of attack, you must also be able to see the multitude of responses that their warriors will make and plan for those as well. That is why all good Generals are half insane. They must see both sides of the equation, attack and defense, and put themselves in their opponents' shoes. It is like playing both sides of a chessboard. You must have a plan for any move they may make. Until they have chosen a course of action, you must treat every possibility as reality. It is enough to drive one mad.

His breath caught in his throat as he watched the most recent battle. The black pawns had stormed his friends. No matter how many pawns they killed, more took their places, until one by one every one he knew had been slaughtered. The pawns still kept coming, hundreds of them, over running the entire chessboard.

He woke with a start, sitting straight up and gasping for air. Despite the cold air, he was drenched in sweat and his breathing was still labored.

"Quatre…" The blond looked around at the soft sound of Trowa's voice through the dim light. He could see the faint outline of the boy sitting up in his sleeping bag on his left. "Are you alright?"

Quatre took a few more deep breaths and, when he was sure that he could speak, he replied, "Yeah. I'm sorry I woke you, Trowa."

There was a moment of silence then Trowa lay back down, considerably closer to Quatre than he had been originally. "As long as you are alright."

Quatre smiled sadly and murmured a quiet thank you. Trowa turned to face Quatre and within moments was asleep again. Quatre lay in bed, listening to the other boy's soft breathing and pondering the merits of detaining the enemy soldiers versus killing them. They were all pawns in Romafellar's games, meaningless to the General's who gave them commands. But they were a crucial pawn, if only in their sheer numbers. They could easily turn the tide in the end.

On the other hand, he wanted as little blood as possible to stain their memories. It would be hard on them, though they would all deal with it in their own ways. Still foggy from his rest, he allowed his mind to wander, contemplating the next thing that had been bothering him.

Duo would act out, do stupid things for a little while. Everyone would make excuses for him, as they would for all the boys; that they were heroes, and the things they did were only done in survival. No one would reward Duo with the negative attention that he craved so he would calm down, probably take up tai chi or some other random class to center himself and eventually come to peace with it.

Heero would retreat into himself, pulling back a little further from the world that wouldn't understand him. He had accepted that he was good at war, and good at playing soldier. He felt guilty for the lack of real guilt, and that was almost worse than anything. Despite the fact that it was Quatre giving the orders, he was the leader. All the deaths were on him, even though he had just done what he knew needed to be done.

Wufei would feel a warrior's pride, that strange mix of vanquishing a foe, yet still respecting them for having the courage to fight. He would meditate and study and try and remind himself of the beauty that the mind held over the body. It would help him grow, become even more of a man and, Quatre believed it would be good for him. Not the killing, but the thinking that it would demand after.

Trowa… Trowa would appear be fine. Nothing seemed to faze Trowa, as if he'd seen it all a thousand times and nothing could surprise him. He had yet to see Trowa bat that one green eye at anything, let alone be truly upset. Who knew how it would affect Trowa…

Quatre paused to consider Trowa before deciding to put the boy (and analyzing himself) into the back of his mind and pondered the next topic; Duo. More specifically, Duo and his sudden issue with Heero.

He remembered last year. It had almost been pathetic how perfect the two were for each other, Heero more reserved and serious and Duo always outgoing and willing to put up with all of Heero's surly anti-socialness. At the end of the last school year it had seemed to Quatre (and anyone with eyes) that something had happened between the two of them (what with the flirting, the inappropriate touching and the bruises). Then they had left for summer break and things had been different after their return. Heero had been distant, grumpy and sometimes downright mean with Duo and the braided boy had taken to walking around like he was a zombie, making jokes automatically, the smile never really reaching his eyes. No one knew what had happened and Duo claimed they'd just stopped talking, and he wasn't that upset about it.

It killed Quatre that Duo wouldn't confide in him, and irked a little bit more that no one would, or could, tell him what had happened. More recently though, Quatre had noticed a change in Heero. He had been less… harsh around Duo, now choosing to spend his time watching the boy. He was somewhat being nice to Duo again, and Duo had no clue what to do about it. Mentally he shrugged, knowing that all he could do was keep an eye on the two of them, and be there to referee the fight that was coming as surely as the storm outside. There was still tension there, as Quatre had witnessed at breakfast. People who were in love did not cuss out their boyfriends like Duo had done that morning.

He looked once more at the boy lying near his side, bangs hanging over one side of his face. He had pulled Quatre aside earlier in the morning, right after they had returned with Relena's group. Hurriedly whispered words of traitors and spies had sent Quatre's brain into a whirlwind that had only been ended by the soft jingle of Trowa's dogtags. Thinking about it now, it was Trowa's bit of information that had set off his original headache, the one that had prompted him to send the others to bed like unruly children.

"Quatre, do you remember learning about Duke Dermail's family during Anatomy of an Enemy?" Quatre remembered nodding, confused as to why this was a pressing question. "Do you remember his daughter, the one who married the Earl of Blahnke, Jonh Catalonia? They had a daughter named Dorothy. When I was in Barge, Tuberov and his General were talking about finding a girl named Dorothy. Tuberov was upset because she was Dermail's granddaughter and he was afraid they'd accidentally killed her." Trowa had paused, as if he was unsure whether to continue. "The General replied that he had checked the deceased and she wasn't there. I don't think she's a spy but I thought you might want to know."

It had been just like Trowa to argue like that. No wild accusations or undue distress. Just a quiet, "Hey, I think that girl we just invited to live with us is connected to Romafellar, and here's two good, solid facts that prove my statement. Why don't you think about that for a bit and get back to me with your ideas. And by the way, people have been killed already," and he had sauntered off in the direction he had seen his sister go, and that had been the end of that. Pale blue eyes burned holes into the ceiling as Quatre wondered what to do about Dorothy.

What had Trowa meant when he said he didn't think she was a spy? That meant he had somehow tested her, and in his mind, she had passed. He wouldn't make that kind of statement lightly. Quatre growled silently, almost hating Trowa for giving him another thing to worry about. Taking a couple of deep breaths, Quatre looked once more at the sleeping boy. His mouth hung slightly open, his face relaxed in what appeared to be peaceful slumber and Quatre sighed.

He hadn't done it on purpose. He had done it because he knew it had to be done, and Quatre was the only one he felt would understand.

He smiled grimly as he remembered Kushrenada's speech. That was only one end of the argument.

She could truly be on their side. From what he had gathered from Relena and Sally, Dorothy had been the result of a Blood Debt between the Earl of Blahnke and Relena's father. Dorothy had killed the son of one of Sanc's dignitaries and, according to custom, had been relinquished to the Sanc kingdom for justice. They had even gone so far as to schedule a date for her execution.

Due to her age, Relena's father had ordered a more thorough investigation and found Dorothy had killed the son in self defense. Her execution was cancelled and she was sent to St. Noventa's to train as a bodyguard/ personal servant for Relena. The two were more sisters than maid and mistress, and he didn't know that Dorothy had had any contact with her home land in more than 3 years. She had been a late fourteen when she was sent to Sanc and now approaching eighteen. The optimistic part of Quatre wanted her to believe that she would fight for the country that had welcomed her, but the more cynical part of him warned him to not be overly trusting.

He ran out of thoughts on Dorothy, knowing all he could do was wait and watch. When the time came, he hoped he would know what to do. What orders to give, what people to send, who to kill. What decisions to make, knowing his friends lives hung in the balance. He knew that too had to wait, but it didn't make it easier.

He yawned and rolled over, facing Trowa.

What else could he do really? It was here his mind stopped. He felt that he had turned over every stone he could find. There were still questions, yes, but he hadn't been able to answer them five minutes ago, and there was no reason to believe he suddenly would be able to. As he lay there, Trowa's slow breathing caught up to him once more and his eyes closed, pulling him this time to a dreamless sleep.

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A/N:: Not a whole lot of action in this chapter, but I figure poor Quatre's under so much stress, we should let him vent a bit. All the capitalized subjects (Anatomy of an Enemy, etc..) are all classes they attended at St. Noventa's.

In case anyone was wondering how old they were: Trowa and Catherine are twins, both 18 (but Catherine is 17 minutes older than Trowa, which is why she calls him little bro.) Heero is almost 18, Dorothy is 18, and the rest of them are 17. (I've never understood why characters have random conversations about things they should already know, just to give the readers information like that. Then again, maybe I'm just weird…)