I Dreamed of Angels [Part Four G]
Trowa entered the library equipped with scrap sheets and pencils in hand. He looked ineptly formal despite the heavy looking backpack that hung at his shoulders and bore down his back. It was apparent that he had came ready to do some research, his face conveying the determination that flowed through him.
The door opened with a loud creak as he continued to move forward, unmindful of the looks of astonishment he received from the perplexed group of people. They eyed him with suspicion, knowing very well the capabilities of the wicked and intimidating young man.
Trowa went straight for the information desk and put his things down before addressing the librarian.
"Excuse me ma'am," he said, the formality and civility of the greeting surprising everyone.
The lady behind the booth arranged the books on the shelf and looked back. Noticing that she had someone to attend to, she quickly placed the last book she had on hand in its proper place and climbed down the tall ladder. The feeble support shook as she continued her descent.
Trowa tapped his fingers on the desk becoming more impatient by the second but chose not to say anything.
"Sorry about that," the lady said after stepping down from the ladder and arranging her glasses.
She seemed nice enough with her hair tied up in buns. The only difference in her was the odd tone she used that seemed like something on the verge of rage and yet, something that was gentle and calming.
"What can I get you?" she said and looked closer at the familiar boy in front of her. "...Mr. Barton?" she continued.
"Do you know where I could find these law books?" he asked and heard murmurs from the people that were within hearing distance. He was sure that this was going to be another 'hot topic' in the gossip arena.
The librarian faced her computer and typed in different keywords and after a few clicks, picked up a pencil that lay on the desk. She then scribbled something on a piece of paper.
"Here you go," she said and handed him the paper. "You have to go all the way to the back and turn left. Just follow that path over there. You'll know which ones they are when you see them. They're the thick flesh books with the red stripe in the middle."
"Thank you," Trowa said and proceeded to the direction of the books, occasionally looking at the paper on hand.
When he was out of earshot, the people started talking louder, their conversations all directed at one very popular topic. Trowa Barton was never one to ask for help and he certainly wasn't the type to come in a library and seek out the needed information on his own. He usually had his poor minions attending to his every desire. The change was odd and intriguing at the same time.
Not being able to hold in his question for a very long time, an inquisitive man walked up to the front desk, eager to have his question answered.
"Was that the Barton kid?"
"Yes," the lady answered, apathetic of the people's concerns.
"Aren't you troubled that he might blow up that section of the library? Knowing that kid, he might even end up blowing up the whole building!"
The librarian was now more disturbed of the man's postulation. Surely he didn't think that Barton's son was capable of such a thing. After all, his concerns were based on rumors and mere glimpses of the other's actions.
"Of course not, sir," she answered, a bit confused. "If I were you people, I'd stop making assumptions about that boy. I'm sure that he deserves proper judgment and a suitable defense on his behalf. He may be tough but I'm sure that he's more vulnerable than he looks."
Those that witnessed the conversation immediately stopped their constant gossip and went back to their reading, embarrassed that they were acting more like children.
The nice lady felt satisfied with her statement and went back to the shelf. She began to arrange the stack of books that were left but stopped when something tugged at her skirt. She looked down to find a grateful blond mouthing the words 'thank you' from his hiding place. She smiled at him and whispered 'You're welcome' in response before continuing her task.
The cautious blonde that continued to hide behind the desk felt no remorse as he continued to watch Trowa move along the open path. This time, Quatre was convinced that he wasn't breaking any rules. He made sure not to make any contact with Trowa. He didn't even make his presence known.
He was glad to find Trowa safe after Ms. Noin's admonition. He was relieved that the other wasn't rotting in jail but wondered just why he looked more solemn and detached than usual.
Quatre felt a surge of longing and followed Trowa's movement with his eyes. He yearned for the playful grin and the soft touch but was afraid of the consequences for the both of them. He knew Trowa would understand.
He continued to watch even after Trowa had disappeared in the corner, his blonde head peeking out from under the desk.
"Quatre Raberba Winner."
He twirled around and fell on his behind at the mention of his false name.
"You said you were just going to pick up a book," Duo said with his hands hanging on his hips. "Where is it? We've been waiting for you all day."
Quatre scrambled off from his position on the floor and looked at the librarian as if pleading with her to conjure up a sensible excuse.
"Now boys, I had to find the book for him and retrieve it from the top shelf," she said automatically. "Calm down. I'm sure that whatever you're planning on can wait."
She handed Quatre an antiquated book and had them on their way. After making sure that they were satisfied, she went back to work behind the desk and again noticed the sudden murmurs that went on. There was yet another gossip session.
She was bothered by the resumption of the earlier topic and cleared her throat. The sound caught the people's attention, as they looked at her in question. The once nice lady took on a more commanding stance, her features instantly changing into one of authority and influence.
"If anybody decides to mention to the authorities that Trowa Barton and Quatre Winner were within approximate distances of each other, then..." she paused and arranged her glasses. Her eyes were hard and threatening as she continued. "...they will have to answer to Lady Une."
Everyone looked back down on their books, trying to get the image of the frightening librarian off their heads. They knew better than to defy a former military officer who had been rumored to use objectionable methods when accomplishing her tasks.
Toward the back of the library, Trowa sat silent as he browsed through a thick book. Every now and then, he would scribble something down on his paper. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to decipher the unfamiliar words that sprang out before him. To his side was a dictionary also opened for consultation.
He hadn't been there for too long but it felt like he'd been there for hours. He had an inkling to what he was looking for but found it hard to search through unfamiliar grounds. It didn't look like he was going to find something viable any time soon.
He leaned back on his chair, stretched his arms and closed his eyes.
"There has got to be a reason why I'm feeling troubled all of a sudden. It isn't like I can't handle something as simple as this. There must be something else that I'm missing, something important," he thought to himself. "There's just something nagging me about this whole situation. It's like I'm supposed to know something I don't."
He took the pencil from the desk and twirled it in his fingers.
"Is there something wrong with him? Is there something wrong with me? Am I supposed to do something I'm not doing? Why am I so uneasy?"
He sighed and buried his face in the books again. It was obvious that thinking too deeply and asking too many unvoiced questions was only a waste of his precious time. He wanted to see Quatre soon and there wasn't any more time to waste.
He opened another book and stared at the text that was more difficult to read than his math equations.
"Math," he suddenly remembered and took out his homework.
What presented itself before his eyes were numerous problems that now seemed just as difficult as the book he'd been reading. He groaned in dismay and let his head drop down on the table. He was sure that he was going to spend the rest of the day there. Only a miracle could save him.
His eyes stared at the tiled floor for a while and then caught a glimpse of a paper that was sticking out from the side of his bag. He didn't remember putting the paper there and was certain that he didn't forget about it. He just wasn't messy. He always prided himself when it came to neatness and organization.
He pulled out the offending paper from the bag and started to deposit it into the trash bin when he recognized a familiar handwriting. He opened up the folded paper and read the heading.
"Double Integrals in Polar Coordinates made easy by QRW," it said.
Trowa smiled and continued to read the rest of its contents. After another quick run through the printed lesson, he tackled his homework and was surprised to find that the once foreign symbols were now making sense.
"My tutor's definitely doing his job," he said to himself as he continued breezing through the rest of the problems.
Outside, Quatre was done with his homework and conversing with his friends. They were currently engrossed on a topic that didn't hold his interest. He didn't really enjoy it when Heero, Duo, and Wufei would indulge themselves in their theories about war and the need of it. He never understood why they were so passionate about such matters. To him it was all unimportant and unnecessary. It was just one of the things he loathed.
So, instead of continuing to listen, his mind strayed off to different thoughts. At first, he thought of many random ideas but then his thoughts dwindled down into nothing. He was falling asleep and it was hard to keep his eyes open. He pinched his arm, trying to keep himself conscious and heard some voices coming from over the bushes.
"...destroyed my faith in the kindness that looms within the human heart," he heard.
He became curious and tried to listen in, carefully catching the words. Whatever those people were talking about had to be serious if they sounded that way.
"...can't always get what you want," was uttered by the same voice.
"You're crazy!" answered his companion.
He assumed that someone was having another theoretical discussion with a probably bored friend. Nowadays it seemed like people were more vocal when it came to their theories on life.
Moments later, two men emerged from the bushes and passed by the group of boys who were still having a discussion. Quatre noted the features of the two men and felt bothered by their presence. He didn't know why but he couldn't put himself at ease. He was always feeling that way recently and something was nagging at him to do something. The only problem was that he didn't know what that something was.
"Wouldn't you agree, Quatre?"
"Huh?"
Quatre was forced to tear his eyes away from the two men that walked off into the distance. He was a bit embarrassed that he strayed away from the conversation.
"He's daydreaming again," Duo said and pointed at him.
"It better not be about that brat," Heero warned.
Quatre just sighed. It looked like Trowa would never win their respect. It was funny how a couple of broken toys and a broken pride could affect a person's scorn toward someone else. The simplest things always made the biggest impact.
Wufei snapped his fingers before Quatre's eyes.
"Are you falling asleep?" he asked.
"Huh?"
"I told you he was daydreaming," Duo said again.
Quatre feigned innocence and forced away the troubled feeling he'd been having.
"Well, I better get home now before Ms. Noin comes looking for me."
"It isn't that late."
"You know her."
"Fine. We'll bring you home just in case."
The four made their way towards the orphanage the same time Trowa came out of the building. He looked weary as he took heavy footsteps down the short stairway. He was able to complete his school work but was still unable to find any errors or slip-ups in the restraining order. One false interpretation on their part could mean his victory.
Nevertheless, he continued out the door and decided to continue his search the following day. His father was still in jail and in need of his assistance. He doubted that his father would want to go back home but it was absurd for him to stay locked up otherwise.
Trowa proceeded to the awaiting vehicle and asked his chauffer to take him to his father. He called up his lawyers, confirmed their statements and closed his eyes for a quick nap on the way to the town jail.
Unknown to his son, Mr. Barton was caught up in his recent activities. He was currently teaching some of the inmates business ethics. All seemed concentrated as they listened to the respected man go on and on about the revered rules and explained to them just why they were needed.
A few questions and nods later, Mr. Barton handed out rolled up papers, makeshift diplomas.
"Barton, you have turned me into a decent man," one of the inmates said while the others nodded in agreement.
"That's very good then," Mr. Barton answered. "I'm in need of a few decent men in my company. When you come out of here, give me a call and the job is yours."
"Dad."
That one word got everyone's attention. Mr. Barton spun around to find his son on the other side of the confining bars. His new friends didn't waste any time and immediately covered him from the feared boy. They used themselves as shields, standing unabashed and proud.
"Let's go home dad," Trowa said, not even insulted at the foolish display.
A guard opened the gate and soon after, Mr. Barton was released with the inmates voicing out their opposition. They continued to shout and threaten the silent young man beside him.
"It's okay, boys," Mr. Barton interrupted and took command of the situation. "I'll be fine."
"Whatever you say Barton."
With the blessings of his new friends, Mr. Barton walked back with his son to the awaiting vehicle and started their journey home. Since the town jail was quite far from their home, the trip back was a long one.
Mr. Barton noticed his son's silence and was stunned at the complete change that was presented before him. His son was no longer whining or indulging himself in childish mischief. Instead, he was very quiet. His face was blank as if he were indifferent of the things around him. The ominous threats were no longer there as he scanned the outside.
A few more minutes followed in complete silence and Mr. Barton felt uneasy. The silence that permeated the inside of the car was more unnerving than calming.
"The bail has been paid and they can't put you back in there unless I commit another offense," Trowa said, breaking the silence for the moment.
"Thank you, son," was the curt reply.
Mr. Barton looked over at Trowa and thought it ridiculous that he was still afraid of the boy. The fear always pushed him back from his son and somehow, he knew that this time, he had to be the father Trowa needed instead of the outsider he usually was. His son was growing up without him.
He took a tentative glance and put his hand gently on his son's shoulder.
"You're tired," he said.
Trowa looked up to his father to reveal the worn out features of his face.
"I've been busy," Trowa answered.
He looked as if he wanted to say something but withdrew his decision and slumped on his seat. It was very unusual for him and it was now obvious to Mr. Barton that there was a problem. He leaned back on his seat too and faced his son again.
"Anything you want to talk about?"
"Actually, yes."
Mr. Barton was surprised at the answer but did not comment. Instead, he allowed his son to unburden anything he wished.
"I want Quatre back."
Of course, this was a regular request from the boy but this time, it was said with a lot more sincerity and a lot less of the childish demands that came with it. He remembered hearing the words said followed by threats but this one was different. Nevertheless, he thought it proper to confirm his guess.
"He is not one to be owned, son," he said and waited for the reply.
"That's not what I meant."
"The what do you mean?"
Trowa let out a deep breath and leaned further into the cushions of the car seat. He was no longer concerned of how defeated he looked. He realized that his pride had been wounded enough that he was no longer able to defend it.
"I don't know," he answered after a pause.
"I think you do."
"If I did then I wouldn't be this confused."
"You know it, son. You just haven't realized it yet. I'm sure that you'll find your answers as long as you don't give up too soon."
"Thanks dad," Trowa said and leaned on his father's shoulder. As soon as he did, he fell asleep, leaving Mr. Barton with his own set of unanswered questions.
He knocked the window open and after greeting the chauffer, asked "What has he been doing?"
"He's been in the library for most part of the day. He spent the rest of his time arranging your release."
He looked back down at his sleeping boy and realized just what he could do to help and smiled a rare but genuine one.
"Don't worry, son," he whispered to the slumbering boy. "You've done what you can. It's daddy's. I'm sure that Ms. Noin would appreciate a visit."
Mr. Barton adjusted his position and fell asleep as well. The rest of the trip followed in silence just as it had begun.