Notes: Well . . . in this chapter,
Maja does something that may sound very weird, and that's climbing out onto the
slate roof of a porch. Now, I, for one,
do not think this is all that strange for and 8-year-old, because I did it when
I was six (along with my brother & sister). So, if it sounds really strange—forgive me; I guess it's the
result of a very strange childhood in which I acted more like an orangutan than
a human. ^_^
Warnings: ah, depression. Poor Quatre. And of course, there's some degree of my ongoing Trowa-torture,
though it's really muted in comparison to other chapters.
Disclaimer: As much as I hate saying
this, Gundam Wing isn't mine. It
belongs to Sunrise, the Sotsu Agency, Bandai, and probably a gazillion others.
C&C? Welcome, as ever!
From Forever to Forever
Part Eleven: In Sickness
April 13th, A.C.
209—Quatre Winner—8:12 a.m.
I
hate flying—in airplanes, small spacecrafts, large inter-colonial shuttles—it
doesn't matter. I can't stand it. And it's not that I'm afraid of crashing; I
don't fear my own death. It's just that
every time I fly, I wonder what it was like for Silvia when her shuttle went
down. Did she know what was going
on? Did she think of Maja or me? Did she cry? I hate thinking about it.
It's
almost humorous, knowing that I used to pilot numerous aircraft.
My
fingers grip the arm rests as the shuttle begins rumbling in preparation for
the launch. Maja looks up at me with
laughter in her eyes. She must think
I'm crazy.
"So
who all's supposed to be there?" she asks, turning back to the window. "Other than you and me and Trowa."
I
glance across the aisle at Trowa, who has already stretched out for a
flight-long nap. Maja's been fairly
attached to him since he moved to our colony, shortly after Silvia's memorial
service. Really, he's been a
savior.
Maja
tugs on my arm impatiently.
"Let's
see," I begin, "It'll be Duo and Hilde and Judas and Tresa, of course."
Maja
rolls her eyes. "Of course the twins'll
be there, Daddy. It's their birthday."
I
ignore her, smiling slightly. "And
Heero's bringing Irina."
"Will
Relena be there?" she asks with wide eyes. For some reason, Relena has managed to charm the children. I think it's the same charisma that's kept
her political role secure.
I
shrug. "I hope so. WuFei and Sally might be there, too. Plus all of their friends from school will
be there for part of the time."
Maja
sighs contentedly, leaning back against the leather seat. "I think I'm gonna go to sleep, too. Will you tell me a story?"
I
raise my eyebrows at her. "Last night
you said you were too old for bedtime stories."
She
smiles and closes her eyes. "Well, it's
not bedtime, is it? Tell me about how
you and mom fell in love."
"Don't
you ever get tired of this story?"
She
shakes her head, and I begin.
"Well,
it all started when I left the Preventors temporarily in order to take over my
family's business. I was on a business trip,
flying down to Earth to finance a new project, and there was a really beautiful
girl sitting across the aisle from me. She was standing up, reaching for something in the overhead compartment,
when she lost her balance and fell onto me."
Maja
giggles, sounding almost exactly like Silvia did that day.
"And
of course, I was instantly smitten."
"Was
she?" Maja asks with a yawn. Her eyes
drift shut.
I
shrug. "I suppose she was. We ran into each other at the spaceport
after the flight, and she asked me if I had any plans for dinner. So I told her that I didn't, and then
immediately went to a telephone and cancelled all my plans for that evening."
"And
then what happened?" she asks, her eyes popping open again. She has a mischievous expression. For a moment I wonder just how much of this
story Silvia had told her. I shake my
head. No, she's only eight.
"We
went out for dinner, and were really upset that our schedules wouldn't really
give us a chance to meet again. But
over the next week we kept running into each other at our business meetings and
corporate dinners, as well as some of our favorite places. So one night, after an opera performance, I
waited outside her box and asked her to come to a late dinner with me. From that moment on we were
inseparable. I asked her to marry me
that night."
"I
love that story," Maja sighs happily. "But I don't think I can sleep."
I
fish around in her backpack, pulling out an old worn-out book. "Here—read for a little while, then." She accepts the book with a grin—it's A
Little Princess—her favorite.
She
settles into the seat, drawing her knees up to her chest as soon as the "fasten
seatbelts" sign flashes off. I remove
my belt as well, glad that the launch is over.
"I've
never heard that story before," Trowa says softly, smiling slightly.
"I
didn't know you were awake."
He
nods. "It was part of the plan."
"Plan?"
He
nods again, his smile broadening. "Maja
said that you hated flights, so I suggested that she distract you. The rest was her idea. And it looks like it was fairly
successful."
I
shake my head in disbelief. "I can't
believe I was outsmarted by my own daughter."
Trowa
laughs; the sound is even more musical than my violin. "Just wait—I have a feeling this won't be
the only time. She's a clever little
one." He leans against the back of his
chair again, closing his eyes. Remnants
of a smile still show on his face, bringing a similar grin to my own lips.
April 13th—Relena
Darlian—3:32 p.m.
"Is
that better?" I ask, putting a band-aid on Maja's scraped knee.
She
straightens her leg, checking how much the bandage will hinder her range of
motion. Her face twists with a grimace
of pain, but she doesn't cry out. She's
a brave little girl; she almost seems like a female version of her father. "I think it'll be okay," she says, hopping
down from her perch on the kitchen table. "Thank you, Relena."
Before
she can make it to the kitchen door, Hilde blocks the exit. "Now wait a minute, young 'un. You never mentioned exactly how this
knee got so scraped up."
Maja
flushes noticeably, looking back and forth between Hilde and me. "It was a dare."
Hilde
raises her eyebrows slightly and I cover my smile with one hand.
Maja's
gaze returns to the floor. "I was
climbing out on the roof and I slipped on some slate."
My
god! An eight-year-old girl climbing on
the roof of a house?!
Hilde
crosses her arms. "Which of them put
you up to it?" Her question is met with
silence. "I know it was either Tresa or
Judas. Any time friends stay over, they
dare them to do things like this." She
turns to me, her voice lower. "Of
course, most of the children have the common sense to stay on the ground."
Maja,
hearing this, looks indignant. "It was
just the porch roof. I didn't mean to get
anyone in trouble." When she sees that
Hilde still wants an answer, she gets a sulky expression on her pretty
face. "It was Tresa."
Hilde
moves out of the way, letting the little girl pass. Then she quickly follows, calling Tresa's name in a stern voice.
Before
I can sit down to finish my coffee, Sally bursts through the door, a huge smile
on her face. "You won't believe what's
going on."
"Are
you talking whatever punishment Hilde's dealt out to Tresa?"
Sally
shakes her head. "No. This is nothing short of amazing. You have to see it." She takes me by the arm and practically
drags me into the living room, where the birthday party has progressed to
organized party games. I look around for
Heero and find him sitting in the window seat, looking at a book with
Irina. Trowa is sitting with Quatre,
who has his eye on a very sulky little daughter. She must've gotten in trouble. I note that Tresa and Hilde are nowhere in sight.
Suddenly
a voice catches my attention. Judas
calls out, "Left foot, yellow!" My eyes
move over toward the far end of the room, where a game of Twister is taking
place.
WuFei
is playing.
Duo and
the children are twisted around him, balancing precariously beneath and over
him. He growls. His untied hair keeps
falling into his face, no matter how many times he blows it back with a puff of
air. It only adds to his frustrations. "There's no way I can reach yellow," he
complains with a glare at Duo, who is blatantly laughing at his opponent.
I
giggle, watching him play the game. It's so unlike him. Yet, lately
WuFei has become a new person it seems—or maybe it's an old person, finally
shining through. He no longer speaks of
justice. He left the Preventors shortly
after Silvia's death. And now, to see
him not only at this birthday party, but playing with the children—I can
understand why Sally is so amused.
"Left
hand, blue!" Judas calls, snickering as his father gets tangled between WuFei's
arms.
"If
you fall on these kids, Maxwell, I'll kill you myself," WuFei threatens.
"Don't
worry," Duo replies. "I happen to be a master
at Twister."
Heero
snickers from across the room. "I don't
think I want to know."
Duo
smirks, his face close to WuFei's as his legs are twisted beneath him. "Yeah—just ask Hilde."
With
a gasp, WuFei loses his balance, falling backward onto several kids. He jumps to his feet, checking to see if the
others were hurt. Everyone seems okay,
so he turns to Duo with clenched fists. "That was not—"
"Fair?"
Duo asks with a smirk. "Just?" He looks around at his opponents who are
still collapsed on the floor. "Nyah—but
I won."
WuFei
huffs slightly, ignoring Sally's laughter.
I
guess some things don't change.
April 13th—Trowa Barton—5:23
p.m.
After
the last guest leaves, Hilde comes over to my side. "Thanks for coming, Trowa," she says with a smile. "It's nice to see you again; the kids have
been crazy since you moved."
I
shake my head, returning her smile. "They were crazy before I left."
She
laughs. "I suppose. Anyway—I wanted to know if you'd like to
stay for dinner. Heero and Relena need
to take off, but I thought the rest of us could hang out for a little while."
I
don't know if Quatre's planning on heading back tonight or not, but I'd like to
stay. "Sure—I'd like that."
She
frowns slightly, her expression growing serious. "Can I ask you something?" After I nod, she continues. "How
has Quatre been doing? Tell me
honestly—he says he's fine, but I don't think so."
I
shrug. "It varies. Sometimes he acts like nothing has
changed. Other times he'll drown
himself in his work. He's even become
preoccupied with politics—I think he's trying to pick up where Silvia left
off." I don't mention the long business
trips, when he leaves Maja with me. Or
the way his eyes look so . . . empty. Dull.
She
nods, her eyes full of sympathy. "You'll take care of them, though?"
I
smile sadly. "That's why I moved out
there. I think Silvia would've wanted
someone to make sure they were all right."
She
pats my hand in a gentle, motherly way that reminds me of all the things I love
about her, and crosses the room to talk to WuFei and Sally. I glance around, searching for Quatre. Maja's still here, coloring at the table
with Judas, so I know he hasn't left.
There's
only one clear option—he's run off to take a business call. He does this all the time.
I make my
way down the hall to the tiny room Hilde uses as her office. But as I lean against the door, I don't hear
anyone speaking. Maybe he's not in
here. I open the door a crack to see
his golden head bent over the desk, clutching a small picture frame in his
hands.
I
enter quietly, but he looks up, hurriedly wiping his eyes. He's been in here crying by himself?
"I
guess I've been gone a long time, huh?" he asks, his voice barely under
control.
I
sit down in the overstuffed chair next to the desk. "I was wondering where you'd run off to."
He
looks down at the photograph—a picture of Silvia and Quatre taken at Duo's and
Hilde's wedding. They look happy. Beautiful. His thumb lightly runs over Silvia's image, a pained smile crossing his
face. "You know, she normally wore
heels whenever we went out—just to be taller than me and annoy me. But since she was pregnant, I teased her
because she couldn't do it that time."
He
sighs, setting the picture back on the desk. "Who would've thought it would all end? Ten years of marriage. Not even
ten, really."
I
don't answer him. What do you say to
someone who has lost the most important thing in his life? I stand up and cross the room, sitting on
the desk instead.
He
looks up at me. "You know—everyone
predicted our marriage wouldn't last," he says with a bitter laugh. "We married on a whim—we were the only ones
who expected it to work out. We always
ignored everyone, thinking that it would take a lot to separate us. Hell—I can remember the way she looked at me
as we were reciting our marriage vows. When I got to "until death do us part," she gave me this knowing
smile—she was thinking that even death wouldn't part us."
"It
hasn't really, has it?" I ask, my voice low. It hurts me to see him like this.
He
doesn't answer. I doubt he even heard
me. "Ten years," he whispers. "I got to spend ten years with her. Do you realize that it was only one-third of
her life? We were supposed to grow old
together—retire together, dance with each other at Maja's wedding—everything. And none of it will happen."
He
stands, leaning on the desk and hanging his head. I think he's crying again.
"And
the worst thing," he begins with a shaky voice, "is that the more years I live,
the less of my life I will have spent with her." He sounds desperate. He
looks up at me, his turquoise eyes bright with tears.
My heart
constricts at the sight of him; he's never been so openly vulnerable. Normally he's too busy trying to pull his
and Maja's lives back together. But
now—his desperation frightens me.
I slide
off the desk, bracing his shoulders with my hands. "Quatre," I growl protectively. "What are you saying?"
He averts
his eyes, mumbling incoherently.
An icy
stream of fear trickles through me. I
close my eyes tightly, wishing that I didn't believe what I suddenly knew to be
true. "You aren't—" I can't even bring myself to say it. The idea is incomprehensible—too painful to
give serious thought to.
Quatre
forces a laugh. It sounds weak and
desperate. "No," he protests, trying to
smile. "God, Trowa, nothing like that." His voice cracks.
My heart
breaks.
He clenches
his fists, looking away as fresh tears betray his lie.
It takes
me less than three steps to reach him. For the first time ever, I don't second-guess myself as I yank his
trembling figure into my arms. Holding
his head against my shoulder, I swallow the lump in my throat. How did this happen? How did this get so far without my
knowing? "Damn it, Quatre," I say into
his hair. "Don't you know that without
you, we'd all be lost?"
He slips
his arms around me and holds on.