How long has it been now? Three months, plus an odd number of days? He still screams her name in his sleep. I truly thought the nightmares would have subsided by now, but they only seem to be getting worse.
I came back to Earth as soon as Heero called. The only specifics he would give me was that something had happened and Quatre needed me. It wasn't until I arrived that I learned what had occurred. Dorothy was dead.
Quatre and Relena were both emotionally shattered. Thanks in large part to Heero's strong support Relena seems to have recovered. Quatre, however, continues to spiral further into himself, despite all my efforts to keep him with me.
When I first saw him he was still clutching the red sheet he had found on the cliffs. He looked up after had I called his name a few times. We had gone through so much in the wars; the death of his father, his possession by the Zero System, our battle and my subsequent loss of memory, his duel with Dorothy; I had never seen such an emptiness in his eyes. It struck me so hard that I thought I may cry. Mumbled apologies and pleas for forgiveness were all he was able to say.
In the days that followed rumors swirled around Dorothy's death. Had it been a suicide? Was it murder? The fact that her body was never recovered fueled stories that she had become disenchanted with Romafeller and faked her death to escape them. Once it had leaked that Quatre was the first person on the scene the tabloids ran stories insinuating that perhaps it was some fatal attraction or lover's quarrel that drove her over the edge. I did what I could to shield Quatre but I think that somehow he still heard of them.
I finally realized I was in over my head just a week ago. Dorothy was finally declared deceased and her will was opened. Much of her substantial estate was left to various charities, but a shocking amount was left to the Winner Foundation and personally to Quatre. I had only been gone long enough to get some groceries. When I walked into the house I knew instantly something was wrong.
I dropped all the bags in hands and ran to Quatre's room. Quatre was sitting on the edge of his bed, sobs wracking his thin frame. I can't recall now making any noise but he turned suddenly to me. I was.... afraid. I had never been so afraid in my life. In Quatre's trembling hands was a revolver.
"I.. I.. I failed her Trowa. I didn't see what was right in front of my face. I may as well have pushed her off that cliff with my own hands."
It took me over an hour to talk the gun away from him. Once I had it he passed out from the sheer emotional exhaustion. I had no choice but to call Iria. She felt it was better for Quatre to be at home rather than a hospital, but I was beginning to have my doubts.
Was that only a week ago. My god, it seems so much longer. I can feel my own body and soul starting to burn out from the effort of trying to keep Quatre together. I honestly didn't think there was anything left of my soul, but I sense it die a little more each day. Each time I look into those empty sea-green eyes, more of me follows him into that abyss.
Is this what Dorothy had planned all along? Did she want to hurt Quatre like this? Some moments I allow myself to believe that. It gets me through the painful nights. In truth, I know she was just another soul destroyed by love.
Love.... Ideally it's supposed to be one of the highest and most noble of human emotions; something to be coveted and cherished. And it's something I've taken great measures to avoid in my life. I've seen the cost that love can extract from people, so I decided that I would not love. I broke that promise to myself twice. Now, I'm facing the consequences.
Did she know? In taking her life, did Dorothy know she would be taking two others with her?
THE END