Alone

Chapter 10 "Stepping back to see the Whole Picture"

Trowa slipped in the window to his room silently. He could use the front door, after all he did have a key, but he didn't want to wake Catherine at... He glanced at the red numbers of the alarm clock just after one thirty.

He didn't bother to turn on the light as he sat in the chair next to his bed. Something was bothering him, but he didn't need the light to think.

'It's at this point that I wonder if this whole mission is a wash. No.' he paused, 'not a mission. This... ordeal.' He sighed. He had no idea where to go from here. Duo was, of course, on stand-by: ready and willing to break into that storage facility on L-2.

But that wasn't relevant anymore, was it? After all, he had found Dorothy, which was the objective. What did it matter now who her parents were? He now knew that she had no idea who they were anyway, so there was no way that finding them could have led him to her. It wasn't his business, nor was it his nature to pry. Perhaps she didn't even want to know what was in that bin.

'Or maybe she does.' chirped that annoying little voice.

Either way, if by the slimmest chance Dorothy turned out to be related to Treize... Trowa shook his head.

"Tip the world power over to OZ." he recalled Lade Une saying. Was that really possible? Was civilization ready to accept another bizarre turn of events in the world powers? And even if so, who had the right to drag it up? This whole assignment was much more than he bargained for.

'Besides' he thought, temporarily dismissing the thought, 'finding out Dorothy's lineage was never my objective. The storage bin was only a lead that I had to follow through with, because there were no other leads.' Now that he had accomplished his goal, what was the point of digging up old ghosts? After all, they were just old records, that at least one person had taken with him to the grave.

Trowa paused. He knew that he had at least a few hours before Dorothy was able to run, if she were going to run, that is. So what did he do? Did he try to stop her by talking to her? How well did that go over last night? Did he use force? Did he call Quatre to talk to her? Or... it was sad to say, but Dorothy's offer to let her go and act as if he couldn't find her didn't sound so bad. After all, if this storage bin turned out to be a dud, and even if it didn't, Trowa would have probably never found Dorothy. She had left no trail to follow.

But, what course of action is best for all involved? Not just Quatre, or himself, but also Dorothy.

'To understand that, I must understand Dorothy more.' He thought, 'What is she really running from? It can't be Quatre. Even if she doesn't want to face him yet, she wouldn't be so determined to sever all ties. Unless she truly thought of herself as having no ties...' He paused, thinking about the evening. A few things stuck out in his mind.

For example, after he had chased away those thugs and Dorothy was lying unconscious on the concrete, he had gone through her purse. Obviously, he had no idea of what he should find, but it was the things that he didn't find that caused concern.

There were no pictures. None, what-so-ever. No phone numbers of any friends. Nothing to show that she so much as had contact with anyone. He knew he shouldn't jump to conclusions, but he was willing to bet that tomorrow, if he asked that Amanda girl, he would find out that Dorothy didn't have any friends or hardly even any acquaintances. That's how she had always been as far as Trowa or anyone knew. Even according to Heero, who's perception skills Trowa considered to be of the highest quality, had mentioned something similar in regards to the time when they attended the same school, no matter how briefly.

That left the question; 'Why would anyone choose to sever themselves from the world like that?' As he asked himself that question, his eyes widened. After all, hadn't he done the same thing?

'Maybe not exactly, but close enough.' Argued the voice. He always kept a picture of his father, sister, and himself. Family that he had no memory of, but still carried the burden of trying to remember. In theory he HAD gone through the same thing.

He didn't remember any of his family. He lived for each battle, much like Dorothy. He paused. For all the hardship, Trowa found himself in battle. It made him feel alive, as if he had a purpose, and what he was doing mattered in the scheme of things.

Dorothy didn't... no she couldn't actually fight. The situation she found herself in would not allow it. So she followed after the battles like a lost puppy, looking for its mother.

He shook his head, holding back a scoff. No, that isn't right. It's too delicate a description for Dorothy. She followed battles like a cat sharpens its' claws to catch a bird. Or maybe...

Trowa blinked the spots out of his eyes, as the hall light suddenly flicked on. The angle of his chair was so that his eye was in a direct beam of light from the bulb. As he was about to stand, Catherine stepped into the light. Trowa shook his head briefly to clear his vision, wondering if it was possible that he was so deep in thought he didn't hear her get up from bed?

Catherine crossed her arms and leaned against his doorway. She paused for a moment sighing, and then spoke softly. "I can't believe you, sometimes. What, did you do, sneak in the window?" she accused.

Trowa nodded, guiltily. "I didn't want to wake you."

Catherine tried to be cross, and instead shook her head, chuckling. "I wasn't sleeping, baka. I was on the couch waiting for you to come home."

Trowa paused. "Sorry." He said glancing at the clock, 2:37 am. Had he been here in the dark thinking, for the last hour?

Catherine smiled through teary eyes. "It's ok. I know I shouldn't. You can take care of yourself, but I really can't help it sometimes, Trowa." Trowa stood and Catherine threw herself into his arms. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you again."

Trowa sighed as he soothed Catherine. He knew that her life had been hard as well, although she always knew who she was, and even who he was. She had known how her parents and brother had died, but from the moment she first saw him she had told him that she knew he was her brother.

It wasn't until she had come into his room one day and saw the one photo that he had of his family that she could prove it to him, because she had a photo that was almost exactly the same.

After the truth was made obvious to both of them, it was very hard for her not to call him Triton. At first he had insisted she call him Trowa, because there was no proof, but after the matching pictures, the name "Trowa" became more of a symbol to him. It symbolized when he started to live again. It helped to connect the two parts of his life, as if both parts were equally important, and therefore not a waste. Out of respect that he had chosen a new identity and life, Catherine learned to call him Trowa.

It was then an odd thought crossed Trowa's mind. Dorothy's fake ID popped into his head. It had read Dorothy Perdre. Trowa wasn't an expert on languages, however he had spent some time in the area of the world that used to be referred to as France. He was pretty sure the verb was from the old French language.

After seeing Catherine to bed, Trowa turned on his computer and looked it up. "To be lost."

Trowa sighed and closed his eyes a small piece of the puzzle clicking into place. That was right. He had forgotten that Dorothy had no idea what her real name was. Didn't everyone at least deserve a chance to choose weather or not to be the person they were born to be?

Trowa got up to pace the room and ended up stepping into Catherine's room. He watched her sleep for a few minutes before coming to his conclusion.

Family, the name you're given, and the destiny you're born into are important. Maybe in varying degrees to different people, but they are important none-the-less. And everyone who is able should have the chance to choose the life that is his or her birthright.

Despite the fact that it may literally be world-shaking, Dorothy deserved that chance too. And if she still chose to run... Then there wasn't a force in the universe that could make her stay.

"The question now is," Trowa spoke to Catherine's sleeping form, as if asking her for advise. "Do I tell Dorothy before I break into the bin, or after?" And if I find what I think I may find... where do we go from there? He added silently, vowing that Dorothy would have to make that decision if, and when it came.

Kat: Oh my gosh! I thought nothing could be as hard as the last chapter. I'm right at the beginning of the end... or maybe at the end of the middle... or hell maybe I'm still in the middle of the beginning, who knows? I don't, and I'm writing the damn story. It's been ongoing for ages now, and I'm egar to complete it. SO now that I've revised my fourth – COUNT 'EM FOUR – chapters in one month – I'm almost ready to post my next one.

Stretches and yawns Well at least, both Trowa and Catherine (the only characters in this chapter) have already voiced their... shall we say "objections" to the story, so I've locked them out of my editing room. And that means that no one can possibly complain about this... Jumps as the door slams open and in walks... Wufei? What are you doing here?

Wufei: Injustice!

Kat: blinks Um... Wufei, I hate to break it to ya, but you weren't even in this chapter, so you can't possibly...

Wufei: That's exactly the problem. I'm your favorite character, why is it that this story isn't about me?

Kat: blushes Well yeah, Wufei... But you've only been my favorite character since I read Episode Zero. You know I change my favorite Gundam Pilot character at the drop of a hat! You've all been my favorite at one time or another. And besides, this story has been in the works for... cringes A LOT longer than I'd like to admit, and at the time Dorothy was my character of choice.

Wufei: Is that the BEST excuse you can think of, you WEAKLING?

Kat: pulls out THE huge NOTEBOOK of complaints and whaps Wufei over the head with it rendering him unconscious. Sorry to be so violent. I'm just not so sure I can take anymore from these borrowed characters. note to everyone: Yes i said borrowed. They are not mine.