Author's Note: Okay, this is my first ultra-serious series thingy. It's also my first horror fic. And I'm posting as I write, so it might take a while. Just bear with me, okay? ^_^
Thalia: It's REALLY weird.
Disclaimer: (Is this really even necessary?) I don't own Gundam Wing. No, really, I don't. I know how you can make that mistake, but seriously, it's not mine.
PART ONE
Though he woke slowly and unhurriedly, Quatre frowned drowsily in the predawn gray that filled his room. There was some odd thickness in his mind, some unease as the remnants of his dream swirled lazily around him like the mud at the bottom of a stagnant pond. He shifted on the bed, and a small noise, like that of a rodent scurrying, sounded from one corner of the room. This waked him fully, and the dream fell back into the depths of his subconscious.
Not knowing what had awoken him, he sat up stretching and yawning. He was used to waking up early, as his last few missions had required this of him. He hadn't really been one for sleeping late in the first place, being a natural morning person. He smiled cheerfully and clambered off of his rather large and opulent bed. He had to get ready, the others were arriving today.
It'd been a tough month. OZ had tripled their attempts to either kill or capture a Gundam pilot. And they'd come very close to succeeding, setting several traps at the bases that had appeared the easiest targets. Quatre had known that something had to be up when OZ seemed to be going lax, and had turned down a mission to the nearest supposed easy mark. This turned out to be wise, for had he gone to the base, he would have met up with an "unscheduled" shipment of seventy upgraded Leos. But the others hadn't been so lucky.
Both Heero and Trowa had nearly self-detonated when they became cornered, but were saved in the nick of time by Duo and Wufei respectively. Quatre reflected guiltily on that a moment, sorry that he couldn't have helped. But he was in the Sahara, and those battles had been in South America and the middle of China. He couldn't have made it in time to be of any aid. This left all the Gundams in poor shape.
So it'd been a godsend when the Maguanacs had managed to seize a huge shipment of mobile suit parts. The Arabian had wasted no time in contacting the others with invitations that he knew none would refuse. They had, of course, agreed to come, and would soon be here. Quatre, always the courteous host, had to prepare before that.
After a quick refreshing shower and getting dressed, the Arabian made his way through the well-furnished halls of the old house that had been moved from somewhere in Europe to the oasis. It irked him slightly that his father was so rich as to uproot whole mansions and transport them across thousands of miles. It was a foolish display of wealth and power, especially since his father rarely left his satellite. But such wealth came in handy now, as much as Quatre didn't want to depend on his family.
He reached the main kitchen after walking for about ten minutes. The men had already made breakfast and most had already eaten. Abdul and Rashid greeted him gruffly, as he helped himself to a plateful and a mug of strong coffee, then sat down at a table.
"Quatre-sama," Rashid began. "We have completed repairs to our suits as well as to Sandrock."
"Thank you, Rashid," Quatre said, truly grateful. "There ~are~ enough parts left for my comrades, right?"
"Yes. And we have the hangar ready to begin those repairs as soon as the other pilots get here," Abdul said.
"Good. I really can't thank you guys enough," Quatre replied, and would have continued, but his words were waved off. The two older men then excused themselves politely, having much work to do.
After quickly finishing his breakfast, slurping the rest of his strong coffee noisily to cool it, he headed for the main hangar. The men had cleared four sections for the incoming gundams, and the various tools had been organized. Quatre oversaw the work for a moment from the top of the stairs that led down into the hangar itself before he was satisfied that things had run smoothly and would continue to do so. He turned to go, but someone pushed him from behind and he stumbled.
Quick piloting reflexes saved him from tumbling down the metal staircase, his hand shooting out to grab the handrail. He steadied himself and stood, turning to see who had almost made him fall. There was no one there. He frowned. Where had they gone? The nearest people were at the foot of the steps, leaning on a workbench and laughing raucously, oblivious to him. None of them could have done it and gotten past him. He walked out the door cautiously, his hand going to the small pistol hidden under his vest at the small of his back. Something here wasn't right. Outside was already hot and bright, and a dry dusty wind whipped at his clothes. There was no one between here and the mansion across the courtyard.
Quatre's frown became puzzled as he tucked the pistol away again. If there hadn't been anyone, how come he'd fallen? He must be more nervous than he thought about seeing the other pilots in a non-violent setting. He was just jumpy. He must've tripped. With a weak smile at himself, he decided he'd better go back inside the air-conditioned mini-palace before he got sweat stains on his shirt. It simply wouldn't do to greet his fellow pilots looking like he just came out of the sauna.
Before he had even made it half of the way, a low roaring drew his attention to the east. Sure enough, two familiar shapes were speeding toward the oasis. He recognized Trowa's and Wufei's gundams easily, and ran back into the hangar to welcome them. They passed over his head, sending sand flying in stinging clouds around him as he ran. He practically flew inside and down the steps, the Maguanacs parting in front of him with bemused expressions at his eagerness.
Trowa and Wufei descended as he came up to the feet of the gundams. Trowa hadn't changed from the last time Quatre had seen him, wearing a turtleneck and tight jeans with that same gravity-defying hair. Only the sling one of his arms was in attested to the fact that he had been in battles since. Wufei was unharmed, though he looked surly in his billowing white pants and blue tank top. He quirked an eyebrow as he approached, a faint twitch of his lips giving away his amusement.
This caused Quatre a little flash of worry. He looked down at himself and barely resisted a groan. Thanks to the showy fly-by the other two teenagers had performed, he was covered from head to toe in dust, and he was certain his hair was likewise disheveled. He blushed embarrassedly, but went to meet them halfway.
"Good morning!" he said cheerily. "It's good to see you two again. Welcome to our base."
"Hello," Wufei began formally, bowing. "Thank you for extending to us the use of your base and equipment. It is good to see you as well."
"Think nothing of it. What else would I do with all the spare parts?" he replied lightly, smiling.
"Hello Quatre," Trowa said, blinking at him. For some reason, Trowa's regard made Quatre feel another blush coming on.
"Hi Trowa. What happened to your arm?" he asked, hoping the dust would hide the rosy tint to his face.
Trowa shrugged. "It was a foolish accident in battle."
Beside him, Wufei smirked and raised an eyebrow. He looked about to say something. Trowa shot him a look and he subsided, but the smirk lingered. Quatre looked at them questioningly, but before he could voice anything, another loud rumbling from above alerted them to more arrivals even as the sensors registered two new mobile suits. Wing and Deathscythe landed amidst the other Maguanac suits. Deathscythe's hatch opened, and Duo ambled out, grinning and waving.
"Oi, Quatre!" he called loudly. "Long time no see!"
"You're telling me! How've you been, Duo?" Quatre replied as Duo swung gracefully to the ground via the safety cord.
"Oh, can't complain. My buddy, though, now ~he~ needs some work," Duo said, waving a hand at his beloved gundam. "Thanks for the invite, man."
"Ohayo," Heero intoned.
Quatre barely managed not to jump at the sound of the Japanese boy's voice so near. He hadn't even noticed Heero exit Wing. He turned toward him with another smile.
"Hi, Heero. Welcome, all of you. Have you had breakfast yet?"
Wufei and Trowa both gave mute shakes of their heads, and Heero raised one shoulder in a gesture of indifference. Duo, on the other hand, tried to look pathetic while rubbing his midsection.
"Thought you'd never ask, man. I'm ~starving~," he groaned.
Quatre smiled. Asking them to follow him, he led the way out of the hangar. As soon as they were in the open yard, Heero, who'd been walking almost ahead of Quatre, stopped abruptly. Quatre turned to see him staring at the house, a strange almost-expression playing across his features. The blond was about to ask him what the matter was, but Duo cut him off with a low whistle.
"Impressive. You done good, Q-man," he said approvingly.
"Thank you," Quatre replied, glancing back at him before asking Heero, "What is it, Heero?"
That snapped him back into his usual unreadable mode. "Nothing."
Breakfast was interesting, to say the least, but it was also disturbing. The account Duo gave of the battle in South America perturbed Quatre greatly, as did Wufei's version of events in China. The modified Leos would be much tougher opponents in battle. He was very glad that the gundams would be in prime condition when they next attempted to attack. They couldn't afford to show weakness now, not when OZ and Romafeller were now extending their reach to the colonies -
"Soooo, when's the grand tour?" Duo asked, leaning back in his chair at the table in the kitchen. "I call the master bedroom!"
"Duo!" Quatre said in mock exasperation.
"Oh, sorry. That's where you sleep, isn't it? Well, that's not necessarily a problem..." Duo teased with a big insinuating wink.
"Duo!" he found himself repeating, the exasperation not as faked this time. "Do you guys actually want a tour, or would you just prefer to explore on your own?" he asked the others, trying to change the subject.
"If it's not too much trouble..." Wufei offered after a moment's silence.
Trowa nodded absently as Heero gave noncommital grunt.
"No trouble at all," Quatre assured them.
"And this is the basement. It's the newest part of the house, and the coolest. So if you ever get too hot, come down here," Quatre said, leading them down the carpeted steps. The stairwell was wide enough for them all to walk abreast of each other, but, as was the case for most of the tour, the others trailed behind at varying paces.
"Hey! Is that an original Michelangelo, Q-ball?" Duo asked, pointing at a painting on the wall. Then he tilted his head and scratched his chin. "Or is it Monet? I always get those two mixed up."
"It's neither," Wufei said after a quick glance over Duo's shoulder as he passed. "And how can you get Michelangelo confused with Monet?"
"Well, they both start with 'M' don't they?" Duo said with a look of contrived idiocy.
"Hn. Baka," Heero muttered.
"I concur," Wufei said.
"You guys are all against me. It's not fair," Duo pouted. Then he bounded forward, braid trailing behind him as he passed Quatre on the stairs.
"Duo?" Quatre called, surprised.
"Y'all are movin' to slow for my taste. See ya at the bottom!" he called over his shoulder as he made it to a landing and turned.
The stairs before him were much more lavish, bedecked with rich red carpet in a widening sweep as the stretched toward the floor. It was noticeably cooler, even with the air conditioning upstairs. He slid irreverently down the polished wooden banister, leaping off before he could hit the carved gargoyle at the end of it. He looked around and nodded in approval.
"Talk about swanky. This place is so cool!" he said to no one in particular.
While not as antiquated as the upstairs, the basement seemed to be just as well decorated. The walls were covered with tasteful artwork, with a few scattered display cases showing off interesting sculptures. Couches, armchairs, and others bits of furniture were placed strategically around the large common room. Doors led off to other areas of the basement, and the wall that supported the staircase was lined with tall bookshelves full of books.
"Must be a bitch to dust around here, though," he observed, moving farther into the room. "Those guys are sure taking their sweet time."
He studied the books with only half-interested eyes. He liked books well enough, he guessed, but he preferred to be ~doing~ things, not reading about them. He scanned the room again, and listened hard. The guys really should've been there by now, but he couldn't even hear the echo of Quatre's voice. The place must have some sort of damper effect on sound.
"This is sooo boooorrrriiiinnnggg," he moaned to fill the silence. It didn't much help. He crossed to a couch and flopped down on it. "Hurry up, you guys!"
Still silence. Nothing was moving here. The sound of his breathing seemed an intrusion.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
Very slowly he sat up. He stood unhurriedly, and began to walk back towards the stairs, carefully not looking behind him. As soon as he reached the stairs, he began to quicken his pace. By the time he reached the landing, he was running.
END PART ONE
Eros: So, where are you going with this, exactly?
Ummm...
Thalia: If you don't get your act together, we're going to have to take this fic over.
NOOOOOO! I promise I'll explain everything! Eventually. In the meantime...
Eros: REEEEEEEEEEEEEVVVIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWW
Thalia: It's REALLY weird.
Disclaimer: (Is this really even necessary?) I don't own Gundam Wing. No, really, I don't. I know how you can make that mistake, but seriously, it's not mine.
PART ONE
Though he woke slowly and unhurriedly, Quatre frowned drowsily in the predawn gray that filled his room. There was some odd thickness in his mind, some unease as the remnants of his dream swirled lazily around him like the mud at the bottom of a stagnant pond. He shifted on the bed, and a small noise, like that of a rodent scurrying, sounded from one corner of the room. This waked him fully, and the dream fell back into the depths of his subconscious.
Not knowing what had awoken him, he sat up stretching and yawning. He was used to waking up early, as his last few missions had required this of him. He hadn't really been one for sleeping late in the first place, being a natural morning person. He smiled cheerfully and clambered off of his rather large and opulent bed. He had to get ready, the others were arriving today.
It'd been a tough month. OZ had tripled their attempts to either kill or capture a Gundam pilot. And they'd come very close to succeeding, setting several traps at the bases that had appeared the easiest targets. Quatre had known that something had to be up when OZ seemed to be going lax, and had turned down a mission to the nearest supposed easy mark. This turned out to be wise, for had he gone to the base, he would have met up with an "unscheduled" shipment of seventy upgraded Leos. But the others hadn't been so lucky.
Both Heero and Trowa had nearly self-detonated when they became cornered, but were saved in the nick of time by Duo and Wufei respectively. Quatre reflected guiltily on that a moment, sorry that he couldn't have helped. But he was in the Sahara, and those battles had been in South America and the middle of China. He couldn't have made it in time to be of any aid. This left all the Gundams in poor shape.
So it'd been a godsend when the Maguanacs had managed to seize a huge shipment of mobile suit parts. The Arabian had wasted no time in contacting the others with invitations that he knew none would refuse. They had, of course, agreed to come, and would soon be here. Quatre, always the courteous host, had to prepare before that.
After a quick refreshing shower and getting dressed, the Arabian made his way through the well-furnished halls of the old house that had been moved from somewhere in Europe to the oasis. It irked him slightly that his father was so rich as to uproot whole mansions and transport them across thousands of miles. It was a foolish display of wealth and power, especially since his father rarely left his satellite. But such wealth came in handy now, as much as Quatre didn't want to depend on his family.
He reached the main kitchen after walking for about ten minutes. The men had already made breakfast and most had already eaten. Abdul and Rashid greeted him gruffly, as he helped himself to a plateful and a mug of strong coffee, then sat down at a table.
"Quatre-sama," Rashid began. "We have completed repairs to our suits as well as to Sandrock."
"Thank you, Rashid," Quatre said, truly grateful. "There ~are~ enough parts left for my comrades, right?"
"Yes. And we have the hangar ready to begin those repairs as soon as the other pilots get here," Abdul said.
"Good. I really can't thank you guys enough," Quatre replied, and would have continued, but his words were waved off. The two older men then excused themselves politely, having much work to do.
After quickly finishing his breakfast, slurping the rest of his strong coffee noisily to cool it, he headed for the main hangar. The men had cleared four sections for the incoming gundams, and the various tools had been organized. Quatre oversaw the work for a moment from the top of the stairs that led down into the hangar itself before he was satisfied that things had run smoothly and would continue to do so. He turned to go, but someone pushed him from behind and he stumbled.
Quick piloting reflexes saved him from tumbling down the metal staircase, his hand shooting out to grab the handrail. He steadied himself and stood, turning to see who had almost made him fall. There was no one there. He frowned. Where had they gone? The nearest people were at the foot of the steps, leaning on a workbench and laughing raucously, oblivious to him. None of them could have done it and gotten past him. He walked out the door cautiously, his hand going to the small pistol hidden under his vest at the small of his back. Something here wasn't right. Outside was already hot and bright, and a dry dusty wind whipped at his clothes. There was no one between here and the mansion across the courtyard.
Quatre's frown became puzzled as he tucked the pistol away again. If there hadn't been anyone, how come he'd fallen? He must be more nervous than he thought about seeing the other pilots in a non-violent setting. He was just jumpy. He must've tripped. With a weak smile at himself, he decided he'd better go back inside the air-conditioned mini-palace before he got sweat stains on his shirt. It simply wouldn't do to greet his fellow pilots looking like he just came out of the sauna.
Before he had even made it half of the way, a low roaring drew his attention to the east. Sure enough, two familiar shapes were speeding toward the oasis. He recognized Trowa's and Wufei's gundams easily, and ran back into the hangar to welcome them. They passed over his head, sending sand flying in stinging clouds around him as he ran. He practically flew inside and down the steps, the Maguanacs parting in front of him with bemused expressions at his eagerness.
Trowa and Wufei descended as he came up to the feet of the gundams. Trowa hadn't changed from the last time Quatre had seen him, wearing a turtleneck and tight jeans with that same gravity-defying hair. Only the sling one of his arms was in attested to the fact that he had been in battles since. Wufei was unharmed, though he looked surly in his billowing white pants and blue tank top. He quirked an eyebrow as he approached, a faint twitch of his lips giving away his amusement.
This caused Quatre a little flash of worry. He looked down at himself and barely resisted a groan. Thanks to the showy fly-by the other two teenagers had performed, he was covered from head to toe in dust, and he was certain his hair was likewise disheveled. He blushed embarrassedly, but went to meet them halfway.
"Good morning!" he said cheerily. "It's good to see you two again. Welcome to our base."
"Hello," Wufei began formally, bowing. "Thank you for extending to us the use of your base and equipment. It is good to see you as well."
"Think nothing of it. What else would I do with all the spare parts?" he replied lightly, smiling.
"Hello Quatre," Trowa said, blinking at him. For some reason, Trowa's regard made Quatre feel another blush coming on.
"Hi Trowa. What happened to your arm?" he asked, hoping the dust would hide the rosy tint to his face.
Trowa shrugged. "It was a foolish accident in battle."
Beside him, Wufei smirked and raised an eyebrow. He looked about to say something. Trowa shot him a look and he subsided, but the smirk lingered. Quatre looked at them questioningly, but before he could voice anything, another loud rumbling from above alerted them to more arrivals even as the sensors registered two new mobile suits. Wing and Deathscythe landed amidst the other Maguanac suits. Deathscythe's hatch opened, and Duo ambled out, grinning and waving.
"Oi, Quatre!" he called loudly. "Long time no see!"
"You're telling me! How've you been, Duo?" Quatre replied as Duo swung gracefully to the ground via the safety cord.
"Oh, can't complain. My buddy, though, now ~he~ needs some work," Duo said, waving a hand at his beloved gundam. "Thanks for the invite, man."
"Ohayo," Heero intoned.
Quatre barely managed not to jump at the sound of the Japanese boy's voice so near. He hadn't even noticed Heero exit Wing. He turned toward him with another smile.
"Hi, Heero. Welcome, all of you. Have you had breakfast yet?"
Wufei and Trowa both gave mute shakes of their heads, and Heero raised one shoulder in a gesture of indifference. Duo, on the other hand, tried to look pathetic while rubbing his midsection.
"Thought you'd never ask, man. I'm ~starving~," he groaned.
Quatre smiled. Asking them to follow him, he led the way out of the hangar. As soon as they were in the open yard, Heero, who'd been walking almost ahead of Quatre, stopped abruptly. Quatre turned to see him staring at the house, a strange almost-expression playing across his features. The blond was about to ask him what the matter was, but Duo cut him off with a low whistle.
"Impressive. You done good, Q-man," he said approvingly.
"Thank you," Quatre replied, glancing back at him before asking Heero, "What is it, Heero?"
That snapped him back into his usual unreadable mode. "Nothing."
Breakfast was interesting, to say the least, but it was also disturbing. The account Duo gave of the battle in South America perturbed Quatre greatly, as did Wufei's version of events in China. The modified Leos would be much tougher opponents in battle. He was very glad that the gundams would be in prime condition when they next attempted to attack. They couldn't afford to show weakness now, not when OZ and Romafeller were now extending their reach to the colonies -
"Soooo, when's the grand tour?" Duo asked, leaning back in his chair at the table in the kitchen. "I call the master bedroom!"
"Duo!" Quatre said in mock exasperation.
"Oh, sorry. That's where you sleep, isn't it? Well, that's not necessarily a problem..." Duo teased with a big insinuating wink.
"Duo!" he found himself repeating, the exasperation not as faked this time. "Do you guys actually want a tour, or would you just prefer to explore on your own?" he asked the others, trying to change the subject.
"If it's not too much trouble..." Wufei offered after a moment's silence.
Trowa nodded absently as Heero gave noncommital grunt.
"No trouble at all," Quatre assured them.
"And this is the basement. It's the newest part of the house, and the coolest. So if you ever get too hot, come down here," Quatre said, leading them down the carpeted steps. The stairwell was wide enough for them all to walk abreast of each other, but, as was the case for most of the tour, the others trailed behind at varying paces.
"Hey! Is that an original Michelangelo, Q-ball?" Duo asked, pointing at a painting on the wall. Then he tilted his head and scratched his chin. "Or is it Monet? I always get those two mixed up."
"It's neither," Wufei said after a quick glance over Duo's shoulder as he passed. "And how can you get Michelangelo confused with Monet?"
"Well, they both start with 'M' don't they?" Duo said with a look of contrived idiocy.
"Hn. Baka," Heero muttered.
"I concur," Wufei said.
"You guys are all against me. It's not fair," Duo pouted. Then he bounded forward, braid trailing behind him as he passed Quatre on the stairs.
"Duo?" Quatre called, surprised.
"Y'all are movin' to slow for my taste. See ya at the bottom!" he called over his shoulder as he made it to a landing and turned.
The stairs before him were much more lavish, bedecked with rich red carpet in a widening sweep as the stretched toward the floor. It was noticeably cooler, even with the air conditioning upstairs. He slid irreverently down the polished wooden banister, leaping off before he could hit the carved gargoyle at the end of it. He looked around and nodded in approval.
"Talk about swanky. This place is so cool!" he said to no one in particular.
While not as antiquated as the upstairs, the basement seemed to be just as well decorated. The walls were covered with tasteful artwork, with a few scattered display cases showing off interesting sculptures. Couches, armchairs, and others bits of furniture were placed strategically around the large common room. Doors led off to other areas of the basement, and the wall that supported the staircase was lined with tall bookshelves full of books.
"Must be a bitch to dust around here, though," he observed, moving farther into the room. "Those guys are sure taking their sweet time."
He studied the books with only half-interested eyes. He liked books well enough, he guessed, but he preferred to be ~doing~ things, not reading about them. He scanned the room again, and listened hard. The guys really should've been there by now, but he couldn't even hear the echo of Quatre's voice. The place must have some sort of damper effect on sound.
"This is sooo boooorrrriiiinnnggg," he moaned to fill the silence. It didn't much help. He crossed to a couch and flopped down on it. "Hurry up, you guys!"
Still silence. Nothing was moving here. The sound of his breathing seemed an intrusion.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
Very slowly he sat up. He stood unhurriedly, and began to walk back towards the stairs, carefully not looking behind him. As soon as he reached the stairs, he began to quicken his pace. By the time he reached the landing, he was running.
END PART ONE
Eros: So, where are you going with this, exactly?
Ummm...
Thalia: If you don't get your act together, we're going to have to take this fic over.
NOOOOOO! I promise I'll explain everything! Eventually. In the meantime...
Eros: REEEEEEEEEEEEEVVVIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWW
