I Dreamed of Angels [Part Four I]
For the rest of the week, Trowa spent his time in his room, occasionally coming down for meals and necessary activities. He didn't sob like everybody else thought he would and he didn't blame the situation on anyone like everyone assumed. Unlike so many other predictable reasons, he stayed clam and composed. He was just there, like the gum stuck to the underside of the table.
Existing for no apparent reason was what unnerved Mr. Barton the most. Not being used to the change but thrilled at the same time, he considered the circumstances unstable if not downright debilitating. He couldn't make up his mind whether to let the situation be or release the inner demons his son was keeping within.
After much deliberating with the terrified servants, Mr. Barton chose not to interfere. Instead, he spent each day coming in the room, calling his son to come down for meals. He figured that the new day was going to be no different.
"Trowa, breakfast is ready," he said jovially and all he got in return was silence.
It bothered him to no end but he never showed it.
Mr. Barton opened the door to the room fully and looked in to find Trowa lying on the bed with his hair still wet from the morning shower. He was gazing at his ceiling as if in silent contemplation. The angels in bright colored paints hovering above him made no indication that they were going to stand before him.
"Trowa, wake up. Breakfast is ready," Mr. Barton repeated although he knew that the unresponsive figure on the bed was wide-awake.
He came closer and then shook Trowa a bit, causing the other to snap out of his eerie trance.
"Huh?" he asked as if just waking up from a long slumber.
Recognition filled his eyes as he rubbed them and stood up to join his father for breakfast. Upon reaching the table, he consumed the meal in silence while the servants waited, anticipating a possible tantrum. To their relief, none of it came and they were left to evaluate what they should be anticipating next.
Trowa stood up a few minutes later, his stomach satisfied and his father still bewildered. He gave his thanks and then walked back up to his familiar territory.
"Should we be afraid of this?" one of the servants asked Mr. Barton when Trowa's door clicked shut.
Mr. Barton stared at the stairway. He sighed and then folded his hands together.
"I'm not a mind reader," he said before thinking about his next statement. "I don't know anymore. There's not even one expression on his face."
"Perhaps he's gone mad, sir," another servant suggested.
"I don't think that's it. It must be something else," he answered and then drifted off.
Meanwhile, Trowa was back in his position, staring off into his ceiling and feeling none of the sorrow he'd felt earlier that week. In truth, he wasn't actually paying attention to the art but instead was staring at nothing. His mind drifted off into oblivion, of meaningless and empty existence. He noticed very little of the occurrences around him even after a clumsy figure knocked over his expensive figurine.
"I think he's still sleeping."
"No he's not. His eyes are open."
"Then explain the catatonic state."
A mumble could be heard and then an irritated retort.
"Maxwell, we didn't come here to argue. Barton is simply choosing to ignore us."
"I was trying to but you were a bit distracting," Trowa interrupted, causing the shocked intruders to stop their bickering and pay attention to the person seated on the bed. "Where's bodyguard number three and how may I help you gentlemen?" he continued in a dull tone.
"Umm," Duo started, caught up in trying to fix the damage he'd caused. "He's busy distracting your dad with his explosives," he said while trying to piece together the broken porcelain.
Trowa stared at him, waiting for the answer to the second question and Duo just stared back, not knowing what he was supposed to say next. He motioned his arms in question and gave the other a questioning gesture. It was then that Wufei decided to step in, pushing his friend aside.
"I've warned him about you," he said and Trowa just continued to look at him. "But he never listened to me or anyone else for that matter."
Wufei crossed his arms and Trowa did not acknowledge his presence.
"You're a fool Barton and so is he. But out favorite fool really liked you for some reason I can't fathom."
Wufei started to pace around the room and then stopped to look at the book placed on top of the wooden desk. In the meantime, Duo was by the door, signaling for Heero to take the fake dynamite away from Mr. Barton's perplexed face and join them. He almost yelped when he heard Wufei let a out a mocking laugh.
Wufei didn't bother to explain himself and just tossed the book to Trowa. The other didn't attempt to catch the object.
"I see now why you were so fond of him," he said while looking at the majestic ceiling. "A lot of us were guilty of that too. I'm not sure if you've decided to let go of this little illusion of yours but you will receive our assistance nonetheless. Quatre is our brother and we will do all we can for his happiness and well-being."
Trowa blinked his eyes and then looked at the speaker, for the first time acknowledging the people around him. He didn't say anything but it was obvious that the words sparked his interest. Wufei smirked at his reaction just as his two other friends joined him.
Still on the table even with the food long gone, Mr. Barton toyed with the confiscated explosives that the serious youth somehow managed to threaten him with. It was a fake, of course but the look on the handler's face said otherwise. He smiled and then tossed the object in the trash bin.
"Kids nowadays are just so unpredictable."
As he walked to his study, he heard a loud thump followed by a string of curses coming from Trowa's room. Curious as to what activities were going on upstairs, he went to the room where the disturbance came from, knocked and then opened the door when he received no response.
What he saw inside both shocked and amused him. Although Trowa was nowhere to be seen, it seemed like he had a couple of intruders.
"Ouch! It isn't that hard to shove me up the window. Now take off that mask so you could see what you're doing."
"But Noin..."
"Zechs Marquise, I demand that you take that silly thing off your face so Millardo could give me a proper boost."
Mr. Barton's eyebrow rose. He knew that he should have helped them up but the scene was all too entertaining to disturb. It was apparent that Ms. Noin was trying to climb up Trowa's window, presumably being assisted by her boyfriend. What made the situation even more comical was not the fact that a grown woman was sneaking in through the window but the fact that she needed her boyfriend's two alter egos to assist her. Mr. Barton couldn't decide whom he liked better, Millardo or Zechs.
"Why are we doing this again?"
"Because, honey, " Ms. Noin said in an irritated tone while trying to get a good grip and stepping all over his face. "Quatre was calling for him and I'm here to get him."
"I though you didn't want Quatre anywhere near him," Mr. Barton interrupted.
Both intruders were startled at the voice and lost their grip, falling on the bushes below. Mr. Barton let out an elegant laugh and looked out the window.
"Would you like to come in my home through the front door?"
Ms. Noin straightened out her clothes and went to the front with what dignity she had left. Her boyfriend followed close behind. Mr. Barton welcomed his guests.
"How may I help you?"
"We've come to kidnap your son."
Ms. Noin looked at Zechs indignantly and stepped on his foot.
"We didn't come here to 'kidnap' him," she said and came in to take a seat on the living room couches. "I have come here because I've realized..." She stopped, taking out the imaginary lint off her clothes. "...that what I've been doing is wrong."
Mr. Barton looked at her with interest. She just sighed and then continued. "You could thank my masked hunk over there for pointing it out."
"You mean all my little talk did nothing and a few words from him and then you suddenly get an epiphany."
"Hey bub, he's more elegant than you think. Besides, he's a smooth talker. You're just a smart ass. And Quatre's been telling him a lot of things."
"Maybe because he listens."
"Now don't you start blaming everything on me again. I haven't won one discussion with you yet because you keep on talking."
"Fine. But let me remind you that my son isn't as awful as you think he is."
"I've come here to get to know him too, okay." She crossed her arms and looked at him. "I'm trying to be nice. After all, my baby's in love with him."
She breathed in and then started to narrate her side of the story.
"I might as well tell you a little secret we have about Quatre. ...The orphanage found him when he was a toddler during the big fire of '83. People always wondered if he was a stray from a different town because after years of searching, they never found any of his relatives, dead or alive. There was nothing to match him with, no genetic similarities, nothing. It was like he appeared in a puff of smoke. He might have just happened to be crawling around in the ashes.
The circumstances of his appearance is very bizarre."
Mr. Barton was more than intrigued. The tale was most interesting.
"A few years later, I became the director of the orphanage. Of course, I thought that he was just like any other kid. We'd dress him up and present him to the young couples all the time. But then the poor darling always attracted the awful ones. Most of them just wanted to show off their adorable new adoption. None of them really wanted him as their son. You wouldn't believe how much trouble he's been through. He just never talks about it. That's the reason why I've been scrutinizing everyone."
She sighed and looked like she didn't want to talk about it any further but Zechs held her hand as if urging her to go on.
"I know that I'm not supposed to say this but nobody deserves him," she said, almost ready to leave. "...but your son."
Mr. Barton thought he was hearing things.
"You heard me right and I didn't make a mistake either. Your son may be after him for whatever intentions I can't imagine but I could see that Quatre loves him. When Quatre gets better, I want Trowa to take care of him and make him happy just like he'd been doing before I stepped in. And if I find out that he does anything contrary to what I said, I'm going to castrate him myself."
The two men present couldn't help but check down there, feeling sorry for Trowa if he ever made a mistake.
"I've said my part so I'll be leaving you now."
"Why leave so early?"
"Because if your son isn't here, I might as well return to the hospital before Quatre gets up."
"There's no need for that. I'm sure that those boys can take care of themselves."
"What?"
Just as the two continued their conversation, four young men walked in a busy hallway leading into a colorfully decorated room. Two of the four were bickering while the other two remained quiet.
"I told you it was the fifth floor. Why do you think the room is numbered 546? But no, look where you brought us Maxwell."
"Shh, you're making the babies cry."
"Put down that kid before Barton decides to run off."
"Too late," Heero interrupted and pointed to the last spot Trowa was standing on.
"Yuy, didn't I tell you to keep an eye on him?"
"I tied my shoelaces."
Wufei's forehead twitched. It seemed that incompetents were surrounding him.
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure that he can handle it the rest of the way," Duo said in defense while continuing to coddle the infant he was holding.
"Idiot! If they recognize him, they'll kick him out and it's going to take another few days before we could sneak him in again."
"You're too upset you're going to get old fast, Wu. I said don't worry about it. I'm sure the devil's pawn can find a way around us measly humans."
Indeed Trowa had successfully reached his target unnoticed. The additional glasses and the white coat probably did nothing to conceal his palpable, outstanding bang but it was enough to get him through the crowds. They still blamed him for the incident and he was sure that he was going to be massacred if they found him roaming about.
"They're only measly humans," he reminded himself while looking around for witnesses.
He opened the door to room 546 and entered with caution. He took that time to let out the breath he'd been holding and wiped the sweat beading down his forehead. He then divested himself of the disguise.
After making sure that he wasn't followed, he turned around and gasped at what he saw. There laying on the bed was the person he hadn't seen for so long that he almost became a mere memory. Quatre looked as ethereal as ever, his peaceful face bringing a smile to Trowa's once unresponsive face.
He had initially thought that Quatre's condition worse than it actually was. Picking up the chart at the foot of the bed, he found that aside from a few stitches and some blood loss, Quatre was fine. The only indication that he was injured was some visible gauze that peeked from under the thin gown. He was expecting something a lot worse, probably something his mind had conjured up to help bring him to a consciousness he needed at that time.
Trowa walked closer and noticed that Quatre's cheeks were rosy pink.
"That's strange," he said and sat on the side of the bed. "He looks fine."
He picked up a hand and put it against his cheek to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. He was sure that he'd lost the other. Everything seemed to work for him and he was grateful that it was that way.
"There's always a good side to always getting what you want," he said out loud and chuckled.
It was like a miracle meant for him, to be able to right what was wrong. He knew then that he was truly blessed with a gift and that gift was not the ability to obtain what he wished for. Instead, that gift was the person beside him. He'd thought things over for the past week and realized what he really wanted from the very beginning. It was not a myth, which he wanted, but instead a forged companionship that spoke of happiness and contentment.
"...the only thing I ever really wanted," Trowa whispered and touched the tranquil face.
Disturbed from his slumber, Quatre opened his eyes and gazed at the one above. He yawned and then blinked, receiving a shy kiss from the other.
"You've been sleeping too long Quatre," Trowa said and handed him a cup of water. "You could either drink that or I could take you out for some chocolate ice cream instead," he suggested and received a weak but enthusiastic nod from the other.
Trowa laughed but promised to do just that when he got better.
The rest of the day followed with the two undisturbed. Not once was the word 'angel' mentioned but the heavens were all rejoicing with the angels dancing gleefully on the grandiose ceiling of an unoccupied bedroom.