Fly on Broken Wings Chapter 37: Lost, a gundam wing/ac fanfic

LSC / 11-30-11
(Fly on Broken Wings - Chapter Thirty-Seven: Lost)
rated: R - language, content, violence
shounen-ai/yaoi

CHAPTER 37

Lost

"Trowa?" asked Quatre. He stared up at bright green eyes that mirrored his own surprise. The book fell from his hands, Trowa fumbled to catch it at the same time as Quatre, and they ended up clutching each other's hands instead. Quatre's cheeks flooded with a blush as he snatched his hands away, quickly reclaiming the book from the floor. "What are you doing here?"

Trowa raised both brows, as if to say, I could ask you the same thing.

Quatre broke into a sudden smile, holding both the book and his bear close to his chest as the impulsive urge to hug Trowa overtook him. He refrained, however, putting all his squeezing power into Sandy and the book. "This is so great," he said softly. "I'm so glad Wufei escaped now."

Trowa's brows swept down, furrowing as he puzzled over Quatre's words. The taller boy swiveled his head this way and that, scanning the crowd anxiously for something, Quatre did not know. Trowa took his elbow again and led him gently into the bookstore, tucking them into a corner where he could still keep an eye on the entrance.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Quatre looked up patiently, fascinated by just being able to stand next to Trowa again, to see him. Trowa swallowed, hard, and tried again, voice a little hoarse from disuse. "Quatre," he said at last. "What are you doing here?"

Quatre felt a shiver down his spine at that deep velvet tone saying his name. He blushed slightly, embarrassed by the reaction. "Well, it's a long story…" It tumbled out of him in a rush, pretty much everything that had happened since Trowa left, including Heero's visit and Zechs joining the group and Wufei acting strange. Trowa listened, patient as always, every so often looking away from Quatre's face to look at the bookstore entrance. "And that's when I thought I would just wander the mall a little," Quatre finished up his explanation.

"You ran?" Trowa's mouth quirked up into a strange little smile.

"Well, I guess," Quatre shyly returned the smile. "When you put it that way."

"But you're going back?"

Quatre shrugged. "I have to."

Trowa stepped forward, quite close, almost looming over him. His green eyes burned into Quatre a strange intensity, and he found himself tilting his head back with a strange feeling of anticipation. Trowa lips parted, as if to speak, or to… Quatre rocked his weight forward, ready to lift up on to his toes. His heart beat wildly. Surely Trowa could hear it. He dug his fingers into the plush fur of his bear.

"Don't go," Trowa whispered, the words only audible because they were close, so close. Maybe he was reading those lips, not hearing them speak, but nevertheless Quatre understood the words, and they sent a tremor through him. "Don't go back."

Quatre started to shake his head, his eyes never drifting from that intense look. His breath caught lightly in his throat as Trowa lowered over him, that sweep of russet bangs tickling Quatre's closed eyes as their lips met in the softest, sweetest of kisses. Quatre tipped forward on to his toes. Trowa's hands gripped his shoulders, but whether to hold him back or pull him closer, Quatre did not try to find out. He all but leapt into the touch, forcing Trowa to grab him tight or let him fall.

Quatre rested his cheek against the thin material of Trowa's shirt, and tried to decide if it was his heart he heard, racing madly, or Trowa's. The taller boy ducked his head, folding himself over Quatre for a moment before slowly, gently separating them. His hands firmly clutched Quatre's shoulders and did not let go, not even when Quatre lifted one cautious hand and ran a finger very lightly down the red scars. He had never seen them before, Trowa always having worn long sleeves at the hospital.

"Quatre…" said Trowa helplessly.

Quatre snapped his hand away, a hot blush flooding his face. "I'm sorry."

Trowa shook his head. He squeezed Quatre's shoulders briefly before running his hands down the length of his arms to gather the young boy's hands in his own. "Don't apologize," he said quietly, looking down at their interlocked fingers. He started to say something else but hesitated, head swiveling around to stare over the shelves and out at the bookstore entrance.

Quatre was too short to see past the shelves, unlike Trowa, but he turned anyways. "What is it?" he asked. He felt a keen disappointment when Trowa released their hands.

"My sister," Trowa said. "I have to go."

"What?" His heart sunk, low and heavy, in his chest. He hitched Sandy more securely under his arm and reached for Trowa, trying to reclaim his hands. "But…"

Pain flashed in Trowa's eyes as he pulled away, taking a careful step back. "You're right. You have to go back. And I…" He shook his head. "Bye, Quatre," he said quietly, in a tone that sent another shiver down Quatre's spine, but not in the good way.

He lunged forward, catching Trowa's wrist. "S-stop! What about…?" His voice faltered and faded, cheeks coloring as he recalled their kiss. He couldn't voice the question, afraid of the answer, and Quatre reluctantly released Trowa. A million little pleas bounced around his head; don't go, don't say goodbye, don't hurt yourself, don't forget about me, please let me see you again, please… Quatre bit his lip.

Trowa jammed his hands securely into his pockets, shoulders hunching as he stepped out into the center aisle. Quatre watched, hidden behind the bookcase, as his sister walked up and cheerily tried to engagement him in a one-sided conversation.

"Find anything interesting, anything you want to get?" She asked.

Trowa shook his head. Her bright smile did not waver, and Catherine picked up a book at random from a display table. "This one looks interesting!" she gushed, reading the blurb across the back to Trowa. He looked past her, to where Quatre stood, and their eyes met.

I'm sorry, his eyes seemed to say.

Quatre smiled, hesitantly, and then dug deep within himself to strengthen that smile. It's okay. He lifted his hand in a small wave, fingers waggling near his face. Quatre turned away and slipped out of the bookstore, hopefully without Catherine seeing, although it was unlikely she would recognize him. Earlier he had been giddy at the idea of wandering the mall, but now, without Trowa, it just seemed pointless.

He took the same route back to the theater as he had leaving it, around the back way with all the dumpsters. The fire doors did not open from the outside, however, so Quatre had to go through the front. The orderly in red scrubs stood outside the doors. Quatre sighed; time to get caught, get in trouble, and go back to the institution. He'd have to tell Zechs and Duo that he lost Wufei.

Amazingly enough, the orderly just waved a hand at him. "Theater's closed, kid, until 4."

Quatre tried not to let his surprise show. His hand went briefly to his shirt, where he'd taken off his name badge. Unfortunately he was not thinking about Sandy, and the movement shifted the bear from under his arm.

The orderly frowned, visibly connecting the pieces. "Hey… wait a second. Get over here!" Quatre obediently stepped forward, but kept well out of arm's reach. "You sneaking off, kid?" the orderly accused. "What happened to your badge?"

"I…" Quatre dug his fingers into Sandy. "I had to use the bathroom."

"Outside? Come on, kid, don't get me in trouble, let's go." The orderly jerked a hand toward the theater. Quatre saw a pack of cigarettes in his hand, and suddenly felt very sly and secretive.

He nodded, not wanting to press his luck, and hurried into the empty theater. He had forgotten which screen the movie was being shown on, but it didn't matter. As soon as he stepped into the long hallway one of the nurses caught him. She was supervising another patient bent over the water fountain, but her sharp eyes found Quatre easily enough.

"What are you doing out here?" she demanded. "Where's your badge?"

"I had to use the bathroom," Quatre repeated. It was a very boring lie, and he delivered it without much conviction.

She looked at him suspiciously. He tried to look innocent under her scrutiny. The girl at the water fountain straightened up and wiped a hand over the back of her mouth; it was Dorothy, her eyes jagged with curiosity as she looked at Quatre.

"What's your name?" the nurse asked Quatre, frowning. She looked at Sandy, firmly under his elbow. "Watman? Witmore?"

"Winner," he admitted. No point in hiding it. He felt very tired all of a sudden, worn out like an old dishrag. He just wanted to go back to the hospital, where things were at least familiar, and slip into his old routines. Maybe if he ate enough terrible food and suffered through enough therapy sessions, he could forget the feel of Trowa's lips on his and the warmth of his hands.

Quatre lowered his eyes to floor as the nurse continued to puzzle over him. "Get back inside, Catalonia," the nurse said. She watched carefully as Dorothy disappeared into the theater. The nurse rounded on Quatre. "What were you doing?"

"... I had to use the bathroom." It was not a better lie the second time around.

"Where's your badge?"

"It, um, I lost it. In the toilet."

She stared at him. She reached for and found his elbow, and Quatre flinched away from the touch. "Come on," she said firmly. "Back inside. Finish the movie." She made to grab him again, and Quatre hurried out of range, toward the theater door. He all but bolted inside, wanting to preempt her attempts at physically corralling him. The movie was some silly animated film, probably similar to what Duo and Zechs were watching back at the institution. Quatre slipped into the nearest empty seat with a long sigh.

He curled back in his seat and paid very little attention to the movie. He rested Sandy on his knee and plucked at the bear's plastic eye, thoughts restless. He couldn't stop thinking about Trowa. Was he happy, with his sister? It had been hard to tell. Quatre shuddered, remembering the red scars he'd been so bold to touch. His heart raced with panic just thinking about if Trowa... His fingers tightened convulsively into Sandy's face, hard enough he feared for a second the poor bear's eye might come free in his hand. He smoothed his fingers over the fur in mute apology.

The movie credits were rolling over a fake outtakes reel when someone dropped into the seat next to Quatre, startling him from his thoughts. Quatre scrambled upright and hissed Wufei's name in disbelief.

Wufei shook his head slightly, lifting a finger to his lips. Quatre looked around quickly; the nurses were gathering near the front of the theater, below the screen, and the orderlies were along the sides. "Where were you?" Quatre whispered.

"Shh," murmured Wufei. He looked back over his shoulder. Quatre followed his gaze and saw, to his surprise, the caseworker. She had her arms over her chest, watching Wufei carefully. At seeing their mutual looks, the woman smiled and gave Wufei a short nod, which he returned. She turned on a heel and left, just as the lights to the theater came back on and one of the nurses began to call for their attention.

They were summarily rounded up, lined up, counted up, and boarded up into the bus. Several of the others groaned and complained that if they were only going to see a movie, they could have just stayed at the hospital. Quatre spotted Relena and Dorothy in the green group, just ahead of them getting on to the bus. He and Wufei ended up seated in the middle of the bus, directly behind the dual blonde heads.

Was it his imagination, or did the nurses seem to be looking at him as they whispered near the front of the bus? Quatre tried to sink lower into his seat, as if he could hide. Maybe the floor would open up, and he could slip out that way, and find Trowa again. Maybe it wasn't too late to change his mind.

As soon as the bus rolled out into traffic, Dorothy popped her head up over the back of the seat. "Hey," she said. "You suck at escape attempts."

Before Quatre could say anything, Wufei flushed pink and sputtered, "I wasn't trying to escape!"

"Oho," chuckled Dorothy. "And a guilty conscious makes its appearance. I wasn't talking to you, but now I am. Did you both sneak out?" She suddenly let out a theatrical gasp. "Does this mean Milliard is back on the market?"

"Catalonia, sit down!" called the green orderly.

"Don't think this is over!" Dorothy hissed, whirling around to face the front. The whispered sounds of her filling in Relena on the details drifted over the rumbling hum of the bus motor.

Wufei turned a red face to the window and stared out at the passing traffic. After a while, he spoke without turning to look at Quatre. "Did you follow me?"

"Um," said Quatre. "Just to the parking lot."

"Did you get in trouble?"

"Just a little," Quatre admitted. He kept quiet about the rest, especially running into Trowa. He touched his lower lip and felt his cheeks growing hot with the memory. Even though Wufei wasn't looking at him, Quatre scrunched lower in his seat and buried his face into Sandy's stomach, the neck-ribbon tickling his forehead.

"Sorry," muttered Wufei, almost too quiet to be heard. He adjusted his glasses, but said nothing more, and they made the rest of the trip back in silence.

(Author's Notes)

Wow! You guys are still reading! That's so awesome. I'm absolutely blown away by the fact that I still have readers. Thank you! I hope you are enjoying the new material.

I recently gave the entire story another read through. As to be expected for something that's been written over such a long period of time, I've noticed a few continuity errors. I'm sure there are also some typos and grammatical mistakes. And I know the formatting is messed up; page breaks and italics are missing from several chapters. Sorry about that, everyone. I'll make it up to you somehow.