Title: Suspension (Part 2)
Author: Scheherazade
Email: desertrose@gundamwing.org
Pairings: Eventual 3+4, 2+H (I add pairings as they appear in the story)
Warnings: AU / violence / yaoi / more in the future
Notes: Sorry about the somewhat long wait for this chapter. ^_^;;;
/…/--thoughts
*…*--italics
Quatre shifted for the third time in the last ten minutes, trying in vain to find a comfortable position in which he would *not* fall asleep. The tiny room was cramped and stifling, but it had a clear view of the Dancing Cat Inn, and he had to watch. Had to be ready for when Barton tried to leave, had to be able to follow him to his next location…
When he had stumbled out of the inn from his last encounter with the enigmatic man, he had been ready to collapse. It had finally hit him that he hadn't slept in…two days? Three? Something like that.
Close on the heels of that thought was another, reminding him that he *couldn't* leave. No one with half a brain--and Barton obviously had quite a bit more that that--would stay in one place after two attempts on their life. They'd try and throw the assassin off, hiding as best they could--not sit still waiting for him to return.
The only way Quatre could avoid losing Barton's trail was to wait until he tried to leave and then follow him. Assuming he could stay awake that long.
He mentally groaned. /A miracle would be nice./
Then the answer to his prayers came, in the form of a lone, black-haired girl strolling down the street. "Hilde!" Quatre hissed.
The girl's head jerked up, and she immediately shifted to a defensive stance before recognizing the blond. "Hey, Quatre," she replied, peering through the tiny opening that served as a window. "Out on a job?"
"Something like that," he replied wearily. "Listen, can you do me a really big favor?"
She frowned. "Well, it depends on what it is."
"There's a man who will try and leave this inn tonight. I've got to know where he'll go. Can you watch for him and wake me up as soon as he comes out?"
Hilde bit her lip. "Will I be here for the rest of the night?"
Quatre nodded. "Until mid-morning, if he doesn't leave before then. Why, did you and Duo have something--special--planned?" He grinned slyly.
She blushed fiercely. "I'm not telling *you*. If you keep up remarks like that, I'll decide not to watch for you after all."
"You mean you'll do it, then?" Quatre managed a grateful smile as unlatched the door. "It's a little cramped in here, but neither of us take up too much space, I'm forced to admit."
Hilde made a face is she squeezed in beside him. "A little cramped? This place is a closet!" Still, she settled in without further complaint, gluing her eyes to the building across the road.
"I can't thank you enough, Hilde. Sorry I'm keeping you out here."
Hilde waved away his thanks. "No problem. You need more sleep--you don't take care of yourself well enough. And it's not as if Duo will mind or anything."
"So there"--yawn--"is something you two planned"--yawn--"after all?"
The petite girl hit him, not quite lightly. "Shut it and go to sleep, Raberba." She paused, frowning slightly. "No, wait. A description of whoever I'm looking for might, just *might* help."
Quatre was slightly embarrassed. "Er, right. He's tall, a lean build, with brown hair that covers one side of his face. All right?"
Hilde stared at him. "That's all you can tell me? Don't you know anything else?"
"I've seen him a total of twice, both times at night! What else do you want?"
The girl looked at him in disbelief before pointedly turning her head the other way, muttering under her breath.
"He sticks out," Quatre reassured her. "The hairstyle is pretty distinctive."
"Yes, right, whatever." Then she froze. "Did you say you'd seen him twice? At night?"
"Right."
"As in--you've tried *and failed* to kill him already?" Hilde gawked at him open-mouthed. "You?"
Quatre felt his face redden uncomfortably. "It wasn't because--never mind. Just watch."
She nodded and turned back to face the window, still amazed. Quatre stretched out as best he could, feeling a fresh wave of weariness wash over him.
Within minutes, he was asleep.
* * *
"Quatre." Someone was shaking him. "Wake up, Quatre."
He didn't want to wake up. Something was telling him it was important, though…
"Quatre…"
What was Hilde doing in his room? Wait--he wasn't in his room--he was--
Across the street from the inn, waiting for Trowa Barton. He immediately jerked upright. "How long did it take to wake me up? Is he out of sight already?" He stuck his head out the window, rubbing at his eyes, then swung around to face Hilde. "Just what time is it, anyway?"
She looked puzzled, a slight frown on her face. "Very late afternoon. You can relax though, I haven't seen him yet."
"*Late afternoon*? But it was only a two or three hours after midnight when I fell asleep! You were supposed to wake me up in the morning!"
"You were tired. You needed the rest," Hilde replied imperturbably. The puzzled look returned. "But listen! I thought you said this man would try to get out and leave before too long. It's almost evening, and there's been no one who fits your description at all."
Quatre stared at her. "He can't have *stayed*--oh shit." He mentally cursed himself for five types of a fool, beginning to calculate how long it would take to trace Barton's new hideout.
"What? Oh--another exit?"
Quatre nodded. "I'm an idiot. I assumed he wouldn't know about it--it's just a tiny door in the back of the kitchen--but there's no other way. Damn!"
Hilde looked at him carefully, concern in her eyes. "Are you all right, Quatre? It's not like you to let anything slip."
Quatre shook his head dismissively. "Really, I'm fine. I just forgot this once. It's not the end of the world!"
/I wonder if I can worm a few good contacts out of Duo without telling him why I need them./ He couldn't afford to waste any time on this one.
"But--" Hilde began, then closed her mouth. "If you say so," she said slowly. Quatre could see just what was forming in her head."
"*Please* don't mention any of this to Duo," he said quickly. "It's--it's--just promise you won't. I have a good reason, I give you my word."
/The look in his eyes yesterday--/
Hilde's face reflected her indecision. "Well--"
"I promise I'll explain everything later. Just not right away," he begged.
The petite girl let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine, fine! I swear, you may be a cold-blooded assassin, but you have the most sorrowful pair of puppy-dog eyes I've ever seen!"
Quatre hid a smile. "Thanks, Hilde. It's important." He sighed. "I should search his room now, I guess. Sorry I kept you so long."
Hilde flashed him a grin. "I think I kept you, not the other way around. See you around, Quatre." With that, she slipped out of the room and was immediately swallowed by the crowd.
Quatre stationed himself by the window, on the extremely slim chance Barton hadn't left yet. As he expected, there was no sign of his target. Despite what he had said to Hilde about going on to check the man's room, he was waiting to leave his cubbyhole until after midnight--the time when he was most comfortable.
The streets began to clear as the sun sunk below the horizon, the area not being one to linger in after dark. By ten o'clock, the narrow alley was completely empty, save for a few sleeping urchins huddled against the walls.
Quatre told himself he *could* go in right then--the inhabitants would still be awake, yes, but it didn't matter if he wasn't trying to sneak in--but long habit held out, and he stayed in the hot, stuffy room. Out of sheer boredom, he began to softly recite one of the half-sung, half-chanted sagas that told the history of the Rassan desert clans. To his surprise and secret delight, he remembered every word. He could almost hear his teacher's melodic voice singing it to him for the first time…
His own voice was hoarse and raspy by the time he had finished, unused to speaking for so long on end. Fortunately, by then it was almost an hour after midnight, and he could safely assume everyone in the inn was asleep.
Quatre again entered by the back, moving through the dark rooms like a wraith. As he stood in the hall outside the room, the thought struck him that it could have been rented to someone else.
He shrugged mentally, reaching for the door handle. If it had been, he could easily get in and out without the current occupant noticing a thing.
Before he could even touch the knob, the door swung open and Trowa Barton stood silhouetted against the frame.
Only extremely quick reflexes saved the blond. Quatre threw himself to the floor as a wicked-looking throwing star thudded into the wall behind him. He could barely think straight, but years of training and experience were causing him to react automatically.
In a low, sweeping kick, he knocked Barton's feet out from under him as another throwing star zinged past his ear. He tackled the taller man, almost pinioning him before his thumb was bent backward and his hand went numb with pain.
Barton twisted away and scrambled to his feet, only slightly off-balance. But the first flash of pain was gone, and Quatre lunged again. They both went down, frantically grappling for the upper hand. A glancing blow caught Quatre and the chin, and another harder one in the stomach--he thought he landed a few good hits of his own--he struggle for his knife, knowing if he it wasn't ready as soon as he had the advantage, he'd lose that advantage immediately--a hard punch landed in his eyes and he saw stars--
Then somehow he had the upper hand, and his entire body was pinning the other man to the ground, holding a knifepoint at his throat.
For a minute the pair just lay there, breathing hard. Quatre fervently hoped no one had been wakened by the noise and was coming to investigate. They were in a *very* compromising position.
Finally, he managed to gasp out "What--happened--to Milliardo--Peacecraft?"
The assassin could have sworn he saw the strangest mixture of relief and disappointment in the other's eyes. They were green, he noticed, a beautiful, dark mossy green.
"Milliardo Peacecraft supposedly--went crazy--berserk--during the Esanck Wars--when the kingdom of--Esanck--was split into the Five Kingdoms. He disappeared--and was never seen--again. What really happened--was that he deserted, ran away--and hid in the desert. He expected to die, but instead he--was found by a group of--wandering nomads, one of the desert clans. He changed his name--to Zechs Marquise, and stayed in--the desert for the rest of his life." The Northerner paused to take a deep breath, his breathing slowly returning to normal. "He founded a clan of his own later on. The Raberbas." He looked Quatre straight in the eyes. "Most of them are also blond and blue-eyed."
Quatre merely nodded, the adrenaline rush suddenly flowing away. He told himself he should get up, that it was especially dangerous now that Barton had figured out exactly what he was, but he really didn't want to move…
He was just about to force himself to stand up when Barton spoke. "Why don't you just kill me?"
"Huh?"
"Why don't you just kill me? Why do you bother giving me a chance?"
Quatre sighed and rubbed at his eyes, rolling off and sitting back on his heels. "Everyone deserves a little mercy," he said slowly. "I could just sneak up and knife someone in the dark, and they'd never know what hit them. But that's just *slaughter*, no better than leading animals to the chopping block. I think--that everyone deserves a chance to survive. No matter how small."
He fell silent, other voices echoing through his mind. "A true warrior is compassionate and fair," his father's stern voice told him. "Above all, be honest," his weapons-master lectured. "Why? *Why*?" his sister Iria pleaded. "They just kill for the sake of killing! Animals!"
Quatre ruthlessly forced the memories from his mind. /No./
A soft voice broke into his thoughts. "I think--" Trowa Barton said, "I think I understand."
Quatre only nodded again listlessly. Slowly, he rose to his feet and turned to go.
Then a cascade of silvery notes rippled through the air, effectively freezing the blond in his tracks. The melody wrapped around him caressingly, sliding over his skin and sending shivers up and down his spine. It seemed to go on and on, suspending Quatre in space…
Then the song abruptly ended, and Quatre found there were tears stinging his eyes. He turned to face the tall brunet, who looked back at him with and unreadable expression in his eyes.
"Thank you," Quatre whispered.
* * *
/Fire. Sweltering heat and thick choking smoke--she couldn't see, couldn't breathe. Her eyes stung and watered, sweat poured down her face and the back of her neck. Fear, quickly rising to panic, enveloped her as she stumbled blindly through the campsite. Someone--no, something--was after her; she could feel its malignant presence in every direction. She tried to run, but her limbs seemed to be made of lead. She tried to call out *his* name, but she could only manage a hoarse cry; her lips were cracked and bleeding, her throat dry and burning. There were screams behind her, in front of her, all around her--she had to run, had to get away--someone was frantically calling her name-- Another choking wave of panic washed over her. What *was* her name?/
"Catherine! *Cathy*!"
Catherine Bloom sat bolt upright, breathing hard. /Just a dream,/ she told herself. /Just another dream./ One of the younger girls--Relena--stood over her, practically radiating worry and a touch of fear. "Cathy, what's wrong?" she asked.
"It's nothing," Catherine said, trying to look as reassuring as possible. "Just a nightmare."
"Are you sure you're all right? You were thrashing, and your mouth was moving like you were crying for help, but no sound was coming out!" Relena sounded scared. Catherine couldn't blame her; her last dream like this had been two years ago, about a year before the shy girl had arrived at the age of thirteen. She supposed that anyone unused to these strange nightmares would think she was having mad fits--
"Go back to sleep, Relena," Catherine said, firmly but gently. "I'll be fine."
Relena nodded a little reluctantly and managed a small smile before creeping out of the room.
Catherine fell back against her pillows. She'd thought that dream was over with two years ago. She could still feel the heat, hear the screams, sense *its* presence…
She shook her head violently. /Just a dream!/
/Just a dream./
* * * * *
More notes: Heh, I just noticed an accidental tie-in with the title near the end. Cool. ^_^ And feedback, as always, is wonderful.