Last Sanctuary

Last Sanctuary
by Nika


The police didn't care that I didn't do it; they only knew what they saw. And what they saw was this: me, standing over a dead body, blood all over my hands and clothes, a large bloody knife in my hands, looking helpless as I stared back at them.

When I raised my hands into the air and dropped the knife, they moved in quickly, bringing my arms around my back to cuff me. One officer read me my rights, explaining why they were placing me under arrest. He had made a comment to me about getting a lawyer before I was placed into the backseat of the squad car.

They didn't even bother much with an interrogation. That is, until the lawyer that I had requested showed up.

He stood in front of me, wearing a brown tweed suit. He looked through the paperwork that was handed to him by the police, and I shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinizing look and rubbed the sore spots on my wrists where the handcuffs had been earlier.

"Quatre," he began. "You know why you're in here, right?"

I nodded unhappily. "But I didn't do what they said! I just happened to be there at the wrong moment!" I cried, resting my head in my hands. He looked over me, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, if you didn't do it... who did?" He asked this question as if he /knew/ that I couldn't answer. He seemed so sure of himself, that I hated to burst his little bubble.

"I had gotten a ride from these two guys--"

"Names?" asked the lawyer, writing everything I said down on a pad of paper.

"Heero and Duo."

The lawyer looked up from where he was writing. "Last names?"

I shook my head. "They didn't give any."

I continued to tell the lawyer about everything that had happened. When I was finished, he put down the pad of paper. He let out a large sigh, rubbing the spot between his eyes. "The police got a statement from the waitress saying that there /were/ two other men with you, and we're still trying to track down the other set of fingerprints on the knife. But I'll be honest with you, Quatre. They want to put you on trial for second degree murder, and the prosecution is pushing for the maximum amount of time in prison. From what you just told me, there is a chance that we can get you off, but that's not a promise."

"Prison?" I was shocked. How could something like this have happened to me? I've never done anything to deserve this kind of punishment. There's no telling what could have happened to me in prison. I was not about to spend time in jail for something I didn't do.

I stood up abruptly from my chair, knocking the small wooden table over. The detective stood up as well, no doubt fearing what I would do. I saw myself reflected in the lawyer's gray eyes.

I pushed him out of the way, roughly, knocking him to the ground, then jumped through the one-way mirror that lined the wall. No doubt, I surprised the officers that stood in that room. In fact, I surprised even myself. I don't even know why I did it, but as soon as I was in that room, I found myself punching my way out of there.

The officers were too surprised to do much of anything. Soon, the two officers were on the ground in a semi-conscious state as I made my way out of the room, running down hallways that didn't even remotely look familiar.

I'm sure I must have ran into at least half a dozen police officers as I ran unwarranted through the halls of the local police department. Considering what a small town this place was, it sure had a pretty large police department. Finally I came upon the double doors that led to the outside... and my freedom.

Voices were yelling at me to stop. I heard one person say, "Stop right there, Winner, or I'll shoot!" But I paid this warning no mind as I made my way closer to the exit. Before I could step outside, my path was blocked by a tall man, with soft brown hair that fell casually over one of his emerald eyes. His lips thinned as he took in my appearance, and I, without properly thinking it through, let out a loud cry and pummeled straight through him. The man was left on the floor, his papers scattered everywhere.

Before I disappeared into the woods that surrounded the town, I took one last look back at the man I had practically run through. He stood on the steps to the police station, a determined gleam in those green eyes that told me that wouldn't be the last I saw of him.

I ran as fast and as hard as I could. The trees became nothing more than blurs of green and brown as I hurriedly made my way past them. For a while I could hear the sounds of people chasing after me. Never stopping, I was determined to get away from this place. There was no possible way that I would allow myself to be jailed for something that I didn't do. I know, you ask, why didn't I just stay at the police station. I'm sure that someday they would have found some small piece of evidence that proved I was innocent, but I wasn't about to wait for that day to come. It could possibly take months, maybe even years. I knew that if I was going to be found innocent, I would have to do it on my own.

Only after the sounds of footsteps behind me died down did I slow to a gradual stop, coming to rest beside a small stream. I sat down on a large rock, panting heavily from the exertion the run had taken on me.

I knew that I couldn't stay in this spot for long since the cops, no doubt were looking for me, so every now and then I would look around to make sure I was still alone until I was ready to take off again. I hadn't even heard anyone walk up behind me, until the clicking noise of a gun cocking alerted me.

I swiveled my head around to come face to face with the green-eyed man from the police station. He held a small revolver within arm's length, pointed directly at my head. We stayed like that for a long moment, him pointing the gun at my head, our eyes locked to each other. I contemplated running again, but chances were, he would shoot me in the back. So I did nothing... but neither did he. He didn't even speak, but his eyes told of the turmoil he was going through.

I moved to stand up, but his voice stopped me. "Don't even think about moving," he said in a rich voice. He reached into his pocket with one hand, the gun never wavering from its target, and pulled out an identification badge. "FBI Agent Trowa Barton. I don't want to shoot you, Mr. Winner, but if you make any sudden movement, I will."

I knew that he would follow through on this promise if I made any sudden movements, so I simply raised my hands in defeat. The FBI agent, then, proceeded to walk towards me, slowly, making sure that I wouldn't try anything.

He grasped my shoulders roughly, then began to lead me back through the forest. I sighed dejectedly as I lethargically moved my feet along the ground. My heart pounded in my ears, knowing that I would be met with a cruel fate once I returned to the station.

I didn't want to let that happen, but Mr. Barton had his gun on the back of my neck. I couldn't just escape like I did before.

"Put your gun down, Agent," rang a voice from the forest. Trowa spun around, turning me with him. Another young man with silky black hair and onyx eyes appeared from what seemed nowhere, holding a gun in his hands, pointed directly at Trowa. He wore all white, a color that seemed so fitting on him. "So, Mr. Barton, we meet again."

"Chang. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

"Hm... Its too bad you can't savor it like I know you want to," said the dark haired man. Then, without so much as a warning, he fired a shot from the gun, hitting Trowa in the leg, just narrowly missing my own leg. Trowa fell to the ground, crying out in pain. Chang took one look at me then said, "If you know what's good for you, you'll leave... /now/." Then he left.

I took one final look at the writhing form of Trowa Barton. His eyes were fixated on me as I took my leave, vowing that this wasn't the end. Somehow, I /knew/ this wasn't the end, and for some reason, I didn't want it to be the end. I /wanted/ to see him again. Does this make any sense at all?

Well, I left the forest, the city, the state, hoping to find peace somewhere else in the world...

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