Quatre knocked on the door to their room. Even though Trowa didn't say anything, he knew that it was all right to come in. Trowa sat at the desk, piles of papers and files surrounded him.

"Trowa, a package came for you. From Mrs. Robinson. She said that… that Catherine would have wanted you to have it."

At the mention of her name, Trowa turned to face the door. Quatre could tell by his lover's eyes that he hadn't slept a wink, and that the work around him was a façade.

Trowa got up, took the box and sat down on the bed. He just sat and stared until Quatre came over and put his arm around Trowa's shoulders.

"I don't know if I want to open it, " Trowa said, never taking his eyes off the box.

"Go on," Quatre prompted, "It'll all be fine. I promise."

"Will you stay?"

Quatre nodded. Trowa took a deep breath to steady himself and opened it. On the top was a note. 'Andrew, these are some of your sister's things. I am sure that she would have wanted you to have them. I am sorry for your loss, please take care. Tracy Robinson'

Trowa could feel his resolve begin to falter. The small blonde tightened his arms around Trowa, his chin rested on his shoulder. "It's okay Trowa, if you don't want to do it now that's fine."

Trowa put the note aside and reached back in the box, pulling its contents out and onto the bed.

There were dozens of pictures-- family pictures, presumably, each one had carefully recorded notes on the back. A large manila envelope bulged with letters, and papers, and colored pictures. There was also a small stuffed cat, a pair of keys, two black journals and a videotape.

Quatre shuffled through the pictures. That was Trowa? Quatre couldn't quite believe it. The little boy in the picture didn't look anything like Trowa. The child was standing under a tree, wearing a bright green shirt which accented his eyes-- but there was something not quite right about it. The bangs were still long and the eyes had not changed color, and all of his features were there, but still…. The smile, Quatre decided finally, that isn't Trowa's smile.

Trowa could hardly see the pictures and letters. His eyes were filled with tears. This was all that was left of his past now-- the past of Andrew Brooks. Still, he fingered each of them gently, carefully, as if they might turn to dust at his touch.

Quatre touched him gently on the arm, breaking Trowa out of his trance. "There's a video, do you want to watch it now?"

Trowa nodded his head dumbly. He didn't trust himself to speak.

A young woman-- about 25-- appeared on the television screen. Her chestnut hair fell past her shoulders, and her green eyes were twinkling.

"Well, I just got your message today Andy. Or do you want to be called Andrew now? I dunno. I'll guess I'll have to ask you that when I see you. I hope you're still Andy, Andrew just sounds too formal for you. You never were that formal." She face lit up in a grin, a smile so familiar to him… how did he know that smile? Trowa wasn't sure and he wouldn't waste time trying to place it, at least not now. Catherine's voice continued, drifting through the room.

"I can't believe it. I really can't believe it. After all these years… what have you been doing? I always have thought that you became a chef, or maybe an acrobat. Goodness knows you should have been with all of those cartwheels and backflips you used to do. Do you remember that time when you tried to do a hundred cartwheels? You broke mother's best vase-- then told her that it jumped in your way? Those were the days, weren't they? I wonder why you waited so long before calling me? Have you been gone? Busy with something important? I've missed you…." The grin faded from her face, her eyes became sad as she continued.

"I suppose things probably have changed a bit in these past 15 years. I remember you as a goofy little brother, always getting in trouble. And getting me in trouble. You were always such a prankster. But so kind too. You never took it too far… I do hope you are as kind as you were back then. Are you in love I wonder?" Her eyes regained their sparkle. "Let's see, I imagine you and a little blonde… small, petite, and as good looking as you. She's very kind and… the two of you just hang all over each other. I'm sure it's sickening to watch you two in public…." She smile swallowed her face. From where he sat, Trowa had to smile back. "Yup, I'm sure you've chosen someone spectacular… and whoever it is, I think you should…hmmm… marry her. Yes that's it. Waste no time. Goodness knows I have. Don't be the same as me Andy. I've wasted far too much time and energy on meaningless stuff. I hope that you are making every moment count." Suddenly, she started giggling. "I can't believe I'm really babbling like this to a video camera. But I am so excited to see you, I just… I have to get some it out. If I don't, I think I might just explode. And it just wouldn't do for me to turn into a pile of goo when you are actually coming. Well… I guess I should go to bed now. Talk to you soon Andy, this time in person."

The pent-up tears slid down Trowa's cheeks. That was his sister. That was the last time he would ever hear her voice, or see her smile. His insides ached to see that smile again-- this time in real life. Warm arms encircled him, holding him close. Trowa heard the slow and steady rhythm of a heartbeat, and felt strong hands rubbing his back, stroking his hair.

Quatre planted a kiss on the top of Trowa's head, but said nothing. When Trowa wanted to talk, he would. Until then, Quatre would do what he could without words.

Fortunately Quatre didn't have to wait long.

"I never got to know her, Quatre. I never got to do any of the things… I just wanted to know. To be a part of something bigger, something better. To be normal. I don't know what it's like to have a family, or to be comforted and loved like that. I just wanted to know…."

Quatre tightened his arms around Trowa's lean frame. "Trowa, you've always had family. Maybe not biological, but there have always been people who have loved you and cared for you-- not for any other reason than because it was you. And you got to be part of something special-- you won a war." Quatre smiled sadly as he absently stroked Trowa's hair. "At least you got to know her. You got the chance to see her and talk to her before--"

"I was too late. If only I would have started searching sooner…."

"What's done is done. You can't do anything about that now. You have to live for the future, not the past." Quatre released Trowa from his arms, and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. Quatre smiled, "Everything will be fine. It will take time, but I know you will make it. Let me help if I can?"

Trowa smiled back and nodded. He was too distracted to speak. There on the face of his lover was that same smile-- the smile of his sister, a smile of unrequited love