Past Demons
---
by rinoastar
---


AC 188
--

A young boy stumbled out of a gray tent into the dismal
morning of the Southwest United States. He pulled a shirt down
over his bare torso, but not before a long, red welt was visible.
The boy sniffled and ran to a green army tent to make breakfast
before the other people could wake up.
The boy knelt next to a stone circle and started a small
fire. Its heat and light brought small comfort to him, but did
little to soothe his icy soul. He instinctively looked up to
see a tall man exit the tent from which he had come. The man
bore a rawhide riding crop and slapped it into his palm.
"You overslept, Nanashi. That's worth twenty licks by
itself. You woke me up, too, " the man sneered coldly. He was
handsome, in a European way, but thick-set. The crop in his hand
made sharp sounds as he brought it down.
"Gomen ne, Aki-san, " the boy murmured, knowing what
the man wanted to hear.
"Sorry's not good enough, " the man jeered. "C'mere. "
Nanashi, as he called the little boy, no name, obediently
approached him. The man bid the boy pull his shirt over his head
and wait. Lines of fire began to slither down his back. The boy
cried silently into the folds of his thin shirt. Before long,
he could feel slick wetness sting in his aching wounds.
Nanashi knew better than to cry out loud. The man wanted
to hear him cry, though. When he cried, he could hit him harder.
'I'll *make* you cry, Nanashi, ' the man would chuckle.
Just before the world began to flicker in and out, Nanashi
looked up to see a Nordic boy running out of a tent. "What the
hell's going on? Kill Nanashi day?"
"Mind your own business, rich boy. Just because Dekim is
supporting this group gives you no right to meddle!" Nanashi's
abuser snapped.
"Funny, I always thought it did, " the blonde boy replied.
"Now get going. I don't want to see you raising another hand to
him, ever. "
Hesitantly, the man retreated, muttering rebelliously,
"Damn Bartons. Just because they've got money, they think they run
everybody. "
The blonde, Nanashi's savior, knelt by his side. "Are you
okay?" he asked. Nanashi nodded and pushed himself up. His shirt
stung from his beating and he could feel the blood already seeping
through the thin material. "If that guy gives you any grief over
what just happened, just call for me. Trowa Barton. "
---


AC 195
--

The boy now known as Trowa Barton calmly brushed his long
bang from his eyes. Nearby, Duo was busy making fun of their
notes. The five of them had been assigned yet another undercover
mission, thankfully arriving in time for a fresh school year.
That way, three or more of them could sneak in, with no
crossdressing or false family connections. They could just be
a group of new students that had banded together.
Duo was loudly berating a diagram of a neuron that he had
drawn for biology. "It looks like a *sperm cell*!!" he protested
loudly.
"Hentai no baka!" Wufei scornfully waved his own diagram
back. "If you wouldn't draw it that way, it wouldn't!"
Trowa spared a glance at his fellow pilots. Hiiro had his
head buried under a book fort, studying maps. Duo was waving his
diagram in Wufei's face. Wufei was scrunching his nose up in
distaste, trying to avoid being hit by it. Quatre was blushing,
up to his ears in homework. He looked back at Trowa and frowned
slightly.
"Trowa-san? Daijoubu desu ka?" Quatre's worried expression
peered almost comically over an atlas. Trowa winked.
"Hai, hai. Daijoubu, " Trowa replied. Quatre's concern
did not fade, but he turned back to his worksheets on ancient
Earth.
"Hn. Whatever you say, " Quatre hunched over the papers.
Trowa heard the disappointment in his voice. He watched the smaller
boy work before turning back to his own geometry.
---


AC 190
--

Nanashi worked very hard to clean out the guns properly. It
was hard on the ten year old to be the youngest worker in the militia.
His treatment had only gone downhill from before. Although Aki didn't
bother him anymore, others did. They were meaner, and Trowa couldn't
protect him all of the time. In fact, sometimes Trowa sided with the
others. Whenever Nanashi was being punished for doing something wrong,
Trowa would sit back and say, 'Well, you should have done it right. '
Trowa was his guardian angel. He would help him with his work
sometimes, and help him escape punishment others. Nanashi would watch
in wonder as Trowa played his flute. He wanted to learn that, to play
what was on his mind. One day Trowa offered to teach him.
Nanashi practiced very hard every day. He even surpassed Trowa
in skill. All of the music he played was slow and melancholy. He even
wrote a few songs. Trowa was appreciative of his music, and they often
played together.
"Nanashi, why do you play so many sad songs?" Trowa asked the
quiet boy. Nanashi shrugged in response. "Was your life so bad?"
" . . . . . . . " Nanashi frowned. He lifted the flute to
his lips to play again.
Trowa gently pushed the flute down and kissed him hard.
Nanashi gasped with suprise and froze. Finally gathering his wits,
Nanashi shoved Trowa away. Trowa's chest heaved and he stared down at
the flute between them. "Nanashi . . . " he started. Nanashi dropped
the flute and ran out of the tent.
---


AC 195
--

Trowa leaned against the door as Quatre played a rich melody
on his violin. The airy notes danced across the room, inviting him
to come out from his hiding. Quatre noticed him, and looked at him
from the corner of his eye, but said nothing. Trowa knew the blonde
was upset with him, but he didn't know what to do. His mind flitted
back to stolen kisses of his childhood, and the hurt they had caused.
He didn't want to expose Quatre to that.
He barely noticed when Quatre drew the bow across the strings
for the last note, he was so lost in his thoughts. The Arabic boy
strode over to him. Quatre waved a hand in front of Trowa's face.
"Hello? Are you in there?" he snapped his fingers. Trowa blinked
and looked down at the boy. "Finally. We need to talk. "
"Yes, we do, " Trowa replied. He took the other boy's hand
and led him to the piano bench in the middle of the room.
"So, " Quatre murmured. He had suddely turned shy, watching
his nervous hands twist in his lap. Bright eyes turned upward and
captured Trowa's gaze, imploring deep below the surface.
"So, " Trowa repeated, lost for words. Quatre's eyes held
him paralyzed, and he could see the hope in the sea of them. He knew
he couldn't crush that hope.
"Trowa, what's wrong with you?! You're more withdrawn from us
than usual, and it's like you don't want to be with us, " Quatre burst
out suddenly. Trowa winced at the unspoken 'me' at the end. Quatre
was watching with over-bright eyes, as if he were going to cry.
"That's not it. I . . . " Trowa began, looking away.
"You what?" Quatre interrupted in a small voice. "You can't
live alone, Trowa. You have to tell somebody something. "
"My name isn't Trowa, " Trowa admitted finally. A moment of
silence filled the room with a stuffy air.
"What?" Quatre asked.
"My name isn't Trowa, " he repeated.
"What is it?" Quatre meekly asked.
"I don't have a name. They always called me that. No Name, "
Trowa ran a finger across a delicate ivory key. "Namae Nashi.
Nanashi, for short. "
"Who's 'They' ?" Quatre gently covered Trowa's hand with one
of his own.
---


AC 194
--

Trowa never brought up what had happened between them. Nansahi
was thankful, in a way, because he didn't have to face the other boy
with that on his mind. Still, they weren't as close as they had been
before, and both of them knew that they never would be.
One day, the scientist Trowa's father, Dekim, had hired called
him into the labratory. They fought and Trowa threatened to have him
fired. Nanashi watched from the shadows, silent as always. In a way,
he was like a shadow, tall, thin, and barely there.
The scientist pulled out a gun shortly after the comment about
having him fired. All it took was one shot. Trowa died before he hit
the ground. Nanashi watched in horror as the scientist was joined by
some other scientists.
"Way to go, S. You just killed your pilot. Now who is going
to pilot HeavyArms in Opertaion Meteor?" a strange looking scientist
with goggles that looked like mechanical eyes said.
Nanashi knew what had to be done. "I'll do it, " he said,
stepping out of the shadows, leaving the broom he had been using
behind him. "I'll take his name and work in Operation Meteor. "
"Who are you?" Doktor S. asked suspiciously.
"Nanashi. I have been working on the mecha for the past two
months. I know more about it than even Trowa did, " Nanashi said
quietly.
"Nanashi, huh?" Doktor S. smiled an evil looking smile.
"Fine. You will become Trowa Barton. You will pilot HeavyArms, and
Operation Meteor will go on as planned. "
Nanashi, now Trowa, nodded. He pulled a rag out of the pocket
of his old uniform and began to quietly polish HeavyArms.
Doktor S. smirked. "You, boy! You have only a little while
to train! Get over here and we will begin. "
---


AC 195
--

Trowa and Quatre sat in silence for a while after Trowa had
finished his story. Finally, Quatre placed a comforting hand on
Trowa's arm.
"I didn't mean to bring something like that up, " he said
softly. Trowa shook his head and covered the tiny hand with his own.
"You didn't. I was thinking about it and that's why I was so
distant, " he replied. Before he knew what was happening, he felt
soft lips on his hand. Trowa's head jerked up and he looked at Quatre.
"I-I'm sorry, " Quatre blushed, pulling away. He shuddered
as he stood up, as if his legs couldn't support his weight. Trowa
reached a helpful hand up to him, but the other boy just turned and
left the room.
'Damn, ' Trowa thought to himself. 'I can't believe I just
had that chance and blew it. ' He ran his hand through his bangs and
slammed his fist into his palm. 'I have to explain it to him. '
He raced through the safehouse, looking for the other boy.
His mind and heart raced along with him, thumping painfully in his
throat and trying to cut off his air. Trowa's eyes frantically scanned
the house. His angel was nowhere to be found. Dejected, he headed
outside to take a walk and berate himself.
Trowa wrapped himself up in his thick jacket, a gift from
Katherine. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets and walked
outside. As he walked, he noticed a tiny sound and shiny patch of
moonlight just off of the path.
His heart sank as he headed over to it. He knew it was his
angel, crying over his rejection. Trowa knelt next to the boy and
gently touched his cheek. Quatre looked up at him, his eyes liquid
pools of pain.
"Trowa!" he tried to hide his face behind his sleeve, but a
wracking sob tore through him before he could. Trowa gathered the
small blonde into his arms and held him close. He closed his eyes
and savored the moment.
"Quatre, " he murmured softly. "I didn't mean to upset you. "
"I set myself up for it. I shouldn't have kissed you, " the
sobbing boy replied, his shaking easing a bit. Trowa stroked his
shining platinum hair.
"No, Quatre, " Trowa chanted like a mantra, gently rocking
him in his arms. "I was going to kiss you, " he whispered delicately
into the shell of his ear. The small boy looked up at him with wide,
teary, liquid eyes.
"Really?" Quatre breathed, his words barely heard. Trowa
said nothing but cupped his cheek in his palm. The Arabian's thick,
light lashes fluttered over his cheeks seconds before the Latino's
gentle lips covered his own. Strong arms wrapped the fragile looking
boy tightly and held him tight.
"Katoru, " Trowa's lashes played with the shadows outside,
making them look incredibly long. Quatre's thin fingers reached up
to touch them and were surprised to find moisture in the corners of his
eyes.
"I'll protect you, Torowa. You'll never have to go through
what you did ever again, " Quatre said bravely, all the while tugging
the lapels of Trowa's jacket closer to him. Trowa noticed this and
chuckled.
"Are you cold, Ichibi?" he tucked the tiny blonde under his
chin.
"Not really. Your love keeps me warm, " Quatre kissed the
neck so close to his face. Thinking a bit, he added, "It's almost as
warm as the desert sun. " Trowa smiled and gathered him into his arms
and carried him inside.