Retribution
I never got the chance to thank you.
I've never thought of my fellow pilots as friends. Even now Duo, who I like, is still "not-enemy" to me rather than "friend". It was the way I was raised. In order to be fully independent, I couldn't afford to become dependent on anyone for anything. Trust was a foreign concept to me.
I think you were the same way.
That's why I know how difficult it is to have someone else pilot your Gundam. It's a part of you; an outer shell like the body is to the soul. Letting someone else even touch it is like having someone touch you, like trusting your body to a total stranger. I can't do it, trust someone so deeply that I would allow him to pilot my Gundam.
But you did.
Not only that, you recalibrated Heavyarms for me so I had a chance against Zechs in that fight. I didn't understand why. You barely knew me. I know we traveled together a long time, but most of that was spent in silence. I was too wrapped up in my own shame to notice you at times. So when I figured out what you did, I didn't know what to feel. It was as though you gave Heavyarms to me. Me, a total stranger.
Even then, I didn't thank you.
Quatre's on the edge of the beach, staring somewhat in my direction. I know that blank look; that look that fools the world into thinking you're aware of your surroundings. In reality, you're locked within yourself, rewinding and playing the past wishing you could change it. I must have looked like that to you.
You cared a lot about him, didn't you Trowa?
I could see it in your eyes when you informed us he was approaching the base. For a moment, they softened and you almost smiled. It was as though your happiness couldn't be fully contained under that mask of indifference you always wore. He must have been special to you.
And he killed you.
I suppose you won't blame me for trying to do the same to him. I couldn't understand what you saw in this crazed time bomb waiting to explode. I wondered why you bothered making that final speech to him, as though it would change him somehow. To me, he was a lost cause. Then again, I never really knew him.
Now, I think I understand your feelings. Quatre is a rarity in the human race: a warrior with a heart. Even though his hands are as stained with blood as our own, he still possesses that child-like innocence we all lost long ago. Or never had the chance to have. I guess that's why he's so endearing.
He keeps insisting you're still alive, somewhere, and he wants to search for you. I understand he wants to apologize in some form, but I can't help thinking it's more than that. He seems to need you, almost in the way I imagine you needed him. I suppose the universe has created inseparable lifemates.
So I've decided.
I swear to you, Trowa, I'll take care of him for you. I'll be his protector until the both of you reunite, even if it's in death.
It isn't much of a thank you. But it's all I can do.
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Explanations n' stuff:
[1] I understand the word "retribution" has a negative connotation attached to it, but it also can have a positive one. Good ol' Webster says "deserved punishment for evil done, or, sometimes, reward for good done." My story tends toward the latter.
R&R appreciated! ^____^