CHAPTER 6
She walked through the fog, entirely comfortable where she was in, but a little confused. Why was her mother coming to her in her dreams? Had she missed her daughter? Washu looked around. She hadn't mediated for some time now and that was very possible. "Mother?" She called out. The voice echoed, bouncing off the thick mass surrounding her. "Mother, are you here?" Both hands left her mouth and dropped to her sides. She continued to wander around. Before, she had found them in the fog; maybe she would again. "Gappa, Gamma? ANYBODY here?" Her shoulders drooped slightly. Maybe nobody WAS here, but it was highly unlikely. She felt like she wasn't alone. "Daughter." Her head jerked up and moved around, trying to find the voice she cared about so much. Direction was hard because the voice echoed off the fog and it was hard to discern if it was her grandparents or her mother.

"Mother? Gamma? Gappa? Where are you?"

"Come to me my daughter." She started running forward. The fog didn't part for her like it did before. She had no clue where she was going. "This way." The voice was a little clearer now; she was going in the right direction. Lights cut through the thick patch, giving her a place to run to.

"I'm coming! Don't leave yet!" She picked up her step and ran to the lights as quickly as possible. She skidded to a halt as the fog finally parted for her, revealing a very familiar structure. She stumbled backwards in partial fear.

'What...what's going ON?' Something inside her, perhaps homesickness, compelled her to extend her hand toward the doorknob. She walked to it and slowly turned the knob. The door swung open with a small creak, giving off an eery feeling since it didn't echo in the fog. All the lights were on as they were when she left, but one thing was different. Dust. There was so much of it and it lined every possible inch of the house.

Her wide eyes looked around, unbelieving what she was seeing. She walked in slowly. Each step she took landed her closer into the house she ran away from. When she looked around again, she didn't see any footprints in the dust. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Daughter." Her head whipped around, sending loose hair into her face. She jerked, expecting her normal braid to whack her in the back. One hand picked up a mass of the black strands, looking at it confused.

'I know I braided my hair before I fell asleep. It's ALWAYS braided anymore.' A braid was easier to manage and it kept out of her way. Why was it down NOW? It was liable to get caught on something.

"Daughter, come." The voice was clearer now, but it was an echoy whisper that vibrated throughout the house. She felt like shivering.

"Mother? Where are you?" She waited for the voice to answer back, but silence did instead. She sighed quietly. She would have to go looking. Taking into consideration the appearance of the house and why she wasn't making a dent in the dust, she walked around. She went through the rooms, surprised to see everything was nearly ransacked through, but also covered with dust. It was even messier than when she left. Her brow furrowed. "Where IS everyone?" She called out. Standing back in the dining room, she touched the table, but didn't make any smudges.

"Here. Come daughter." She looked around and immediately knew now where the voice was. It was the one place she didn't want to go. She gulped and slowly turned. Shivers ran up her spine and she steeled herself. Slowly walking to the hallway, she edged closer to the open doorway. The lights were still on, the room ransacked as well and also covered with dust. "Daughter." Her eyes widened. She had not heard that voice for what seemed forever. And she didn't WANT to.

"Father." She spat out. Anger built up inside her immediately. "Why're YOU here?" She leaned on the doorway, not wanting to come any closer to him. He appeared on the bed, his back facing her. A soft, small glow surrounded him. She took that in, but cast the appearance aside, not caring. She didn't ever want to see him again. But he was here, in her dreams. She started praying to wake up.

"Daughter. I must talk with you." His slouched position straightened and he stood up slowly. She noticed something about his clothing. It was the same he wore the night she killed him. Also, the bloodstain was still there. When he turned, the matching front hole gaped open. Her jaw clenched. His face was still black and blue, his exposed arms matching. She felt a sense of satisfaction just looking at him. An evil smile threatened to make its way across her mouth, but she kept everything neutral. She had no desire to show emotion around him. He slowly took a step forward. "Daughter. I want to apologize to you."

She allowed a condescending eyebrow to raise. "Why?" She asked bitterly. "You can't apologize for what you've done."

"I CAN apologize." He softly answered. His voice echoed around the room. "It depends on whether you'll accept it."

"Never." She immediately responded. A little too quickly it seemed.

"I am just trying to help you daughter." She blinked. Then the laughing started. She couldn't help it. It was so preposterous, the idea of him helping her NOW. She laughed until her sides hurt and she was forced to use the wall for balance. Tears actually came to her eyes. Her father bowed his head, hurt on his face.

"YOU...help ME...NOW?" She berated through laughter. He looked back at her. She tried to compose herself. Looking back at him with those amused black eyes, her smile matched the rest of her features. "Why? If you WANTED to HELP me, you wouldn't have done what you did." All humor in her died. She took a step into the room. "You wouldn't have killed mother and gone after me." Another step. Her anger grew. "You wouldn't have forced me to kill my own father and run away to avoid all the questions and foster care." Another step. Her eyes blazed. "You wouldn't have forced me to live in this hell I call my LIFE!" She was so close she could touch her father, but the idea revolted her. Both hands clenched into tight fists instead. "It was because of YOUR stupidiness that I was taught how to defend myself and hardly spent any time with mother because YOU might come home drunk and take it out on the two of us!" She could've breathed fire if she was the right species.

"I realize all that daughter." He continued monotone. His voice still echoed. "I have had plenty of time to think about the horridness of my actions and I want to apologize to you for them. I came to you in this dream because I know you would never allow me in when you meditate." Her eyes widened slightly, but she forced neutrality again. He watched her too?

"So you spied on me? I don't NEED you watching over me. I only reserve that for people I CARE for." She spat out.

"I know what you did to that picture." He continued. "I wanted to put a few things into light about me that concern you."

"NOTHING I do will EVER concern you." She angrily shouted. He shook his head slowly.

"Your behavior has concerned me since you left." She stared at him, not knowing what he meant. He took it as a sign to continue. "Ever since you left you have not been acting like yourself." She felt that maniacal urge to laugh again bubble up. She allowed a small chuckle instead.

"Well of COURSE, DEAR father, I haven't been able to act like myself for YEARS." Her eyes narrowed. "Want to know who's been RESPONSIBLE for THAT?"

"Your recent behavior is not all my doing."

"YOU LIE!" She yelled. Her finger shot out and pointed at him with malice. Her cool exterior slipped. "It was because of YOU that I had to stay quiet as a mouse when you were at home! It was because of YOU that I ran away and can never return!"

"Why?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You think I WANT to answer all those questions and SHAME my mother's name?"

"Then why don't you let it go and live where you are now?" She giggled in high-itched mockery.

"You expect me to let go of something like THAT? Are you MAD?" She smirked. "No, you're just CRAZY. And a horrible father." Her open hand clenched again to try and contain her rage. "I learned everything from Gappa! HE taught me how to defend myself from you because he felt it would keep me ALIVE! Is THAT what you want me to let go of??"

"I came to apologize to you. Try to amend what I've done wrong. Your mother has already told you that I will pay for my crime until you forgive me. I deserve to pay, but will it be forever?"

"Until hell itself freezes over." Her jaw clenched. "And I hope you get PNEUMONIA!" She gritted out.

"I know you will always be mad at me for what I've done. But if you carry this burden around with you forever, how do you expect to live a normal life again? How do you expect to act around Trowa?" Her mouth gaped open to throw out another insult, but none came to her. He'd watched ALL that? She almost felt the emotion of embarrassment. The two stared at each other as if feeling the other out. He'd made a valid point, damn him. Now she was torn.

"I'll live my life how I damn well want to FATHER." She muttered.

"If you always let the past rule your life, it will cloud your judgment. You will never be able to be free like you were when you were little. You will never be able to love." Both were silent. He was just pausing to find the next words to say, and she had nothing to retort back. "I know how you feel about him. Your exterior slips whenever he's nearby. It hadn't in the past. Your feelings for him have changed." She felt a small tinge come to her cheeks. How could a man such as her father be that perceptive? SHE didn't even know what was going on with her mind, how did HE know? Her eyes widened slightly.

He knew what he was doing. Although he seemed like he was fumbling for words, he picked them with care. Everything he said had to strike a point to make her think. She was so blinded by anger at him that she would never read into anything unless he pulled instances from her life. He knew that BY making her think she would have to rethink how she was acting and it would eventually cause her to change her behavior. She would put the past behind her and forgive and forget. Yes he KNEW what he was doing, he may've made some mistakes in his life, but he wasn't a stupid man.

"You're so cold to anyone that tries to befriend you. THEY shouldn't be your enemy. Just let ME be your enemy." He knew that he already was, but changing the context would put it into a different perspective. "I know you will never forgive me, you have told your mother countless times. But you should be able to live how you want to without the past consuming you." His head bowed. "I know what it's like to be consumed by something. I don't want to see that happen to you."

"Why would YOU care what happens to me? You never have before." She nearly whispered. He shook his head.

"You are wrong my dear daughter. Before I was sent to war, I loved you very much." He paused briefly. "I STILL love you very much. I was just blinded by my emotions to realize what I was doing." His head bowed. "I AM sorry for all the words I said to you, for all the blows that I've struck against you, for treating you the way I had. I'm sorry that I drove you away from your home and from the life you once lead. I'm sorry you had to construct walls to keep people out and from making friends. I'm sorry that you have to live the life that you hate so much and have no will to change that. I'm sorry that you think of me as the sole response for your life when you are now the only one who can decide what is right for you." He looked up at her. "I'm sorry that you push your feelings for Trowa away when he apparently has something like that for you."

Her jaw could've hit the floor. Her eyes widened so fast it nearly hurt. She gaped at him, not believing what he was saying. She hadn't really listened to half of what he said, but the last comment was just a little too fantastic to ignore. She quickly composed herself and crossed her arms, looking at the floor.

"What makes you think that he would feel anything towards me? I haven't been the most welcoming person around him."

"Regardless, he still feels for you. Yesterday morning, you slept with the lions. Trowa laid over the cage and watched you sleep." Both eyebrows went up. That was so unlike the Trowa she knew. Her mind paused.

'Since when did I KNOW him?'

"You feel comfortable around him enough to tell him the past. He CAN be trusted. You know not of HIS past my daughter. You were with your family the whole time I was at war. I have seen things you haven't. I know who Trowa is. I know some of HIS origins." Her eyes narrowed curiously.

"What're you TALKING about?"

He wondered if he should've relented that much information. If he told her that Trowa was a Gundam pilot, would she think differently of him? Would his daughter hate Trowa because it was a main reason that he went to war? To stop the Gundams? Had he not gone, it was a good possibility that he would never have gotten discharged with no other reason to support his family, started in to drinking and taken the path he'd taken. It would've never caused Washu to run away...and like Trowa. He wasn't going to take that chance.

"Trowa is a brilliant man. A good choice my daughter." He evaded. She blushed again.

"You're a fool. A man who rambles for his only daughter to forgive something so horrendous that it's laughable." She smiled slightly. "Well forget it father, you can't expect me to take you from the hell you placed yourself in." She turned on her heel. "Goodbye and good riddance father. I wish to see no more of you from now on." She turned the corner into the dining room and made a beeline for the front door.

He turned to the window and watched her disappear into the fog. He smiled slightly. Although she halted the conversation, it wasn't as venomous as it was when she first saw him. He made her think. He hoped she would remember all of the conversation so she could reflect more. Then she would live her life the way she wanted to and he could put his ghost to rest.

The wind generator kicked in, sending everything blowing in a soft breeze. It always kicked in at dawn and went sporadically for an hour or so. The forestry blew its leaves, sending a scratching sound into the air. The rain had not been on in a few days, something the populous voted on. The rash decision was hurting the manmade nature.

The smells kicked up. The leaves were turning, even in the colony. Nature was beginning a cycle so ingrained that no location was going to stop that. Flowers let their pollen fly to populate another generation after them. A small percent of dew on the grass lifted its own scent as it dried. The open windows withdrew heavenly smells from the kitchen as the chef created new wonders for the sleeping occupants.

Some of those smells were closer than normal. Their aroma lifted upwards in the forest from a plate of goodies set underneath a tree. It was that aroma that brought her from the land of rest where she resided. A pair of sleepy eyes cracked open. Her tired brain took a minute to recognize the patch of leaves she was staring at. She half expected to see more fog, but the smell that assaulted her nose was far beyond any dream. Her head slowly pulled away from her ultimately uncomfortable position. Almost every muscle in her neck and arms protested greatly. She was forced to pause and carefully stretch.

After she was able to move a little freer, she looked down and the smell was almost overpowering. A tray at the base was the culprit, and caused her stomach to rumble. She hadn't eaten supper last night and now it was taking its toll on her. 'But who put that out? Catherine?' Had Trowa been so thoughtful to her needs and made sure she had breakfast? She hadn't yesterday morning either. She was running on empty.

The light glistening off the silver cover was too inviting. Slowly, she made her way down the tree. The muscles in her legs protested the movement from the angle they had been all night, but her main goal was to eat. She could fix the stiffness later.

Once on the bottom branch, she swung off to one side to miss the enticing breakfast. She turned to it and walked over as if it was a dream as well. Food started taking over her mind. A hand slowly reached out and casually lifted the lid. Steam puffed out as well as the smell. She spotted utensils and quickly grabbed them. Setting the lid down, she sat cross-legged in front of the spread and looked on with delight.

A small portion of scrambled eggs dominated the plate. A few slices of toast lay off to one side. A few strips of bacon took up another corner. A cellophane wrapped pastry took the rest of the room. All that held under the lid. Another cellophane wrapped muffin lay on the outside, chilled butter and jam next to it. Salt and pepper shakers stood next to a covered glass of orange juice and milk.

She could feel her mouth watering. Whoever did this would be thanked, she didn't care who it was. Without thought, she dug into the eggs, not remembering manners. She was just too hungry to care.

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Tray in hands, she slowly peeked around the corner. The kitchen was empty. She slowly eyed the place. Odd, it was the right time for everyone to be eating breakfast. When she woke, it was just dawn. It hadn't taken her THAT long to wolf everything down. She blushed slightly. She was thankful that whoever supplied her with the food was absent because she had eaten rather sloppily. She was somewhat embarrassed at her behavior, but it was shoved aside. No one had seen her and if they had, so what? She had eaten hardly anything the day before, her actions were justified.

Quickly, as if replacing something she'd stolen, she darted into the room and placed the tray on the first flat surface she found. It nearly fell off the island in her haste to back away from it and not spill the food that already occupied the area. She quickly turned and jogged to the door and out the way she came in.

Now fed and free of any possible eyes, she took her time to walk. She still felt the restrictions of her joints and wondered where she could find a bath to soak for a while. They had a show, but that was hours down the road, she would have plenty of time to be wanton. She left the kitchen and came across the reason for the empty room. Everyone was in the dining room having or finishing up breakfast. Dozens of people were there along with the circus. People she didn't know. She paused in the doorway, hoping no one saw her. She felt uncomfortable for some reason and started to back away from the room. She felt eyes on her, but no one said anything.

Being in the direction to see Washu, his eyes spotted her as soon as she stepped into the room. He saw the look in her eyes and turned to those around him. "Excuse me. There's something I need to tend to." A few nodded with a smile and went back to their breakfast. Having excused himself from the table, he pushed his chair back and forced a casual walk out the room. His mind was telling himself to hurry before he lost her and had to spend a few minutes hunting her down. He didn't know the girl well enough and it was a possibility. She could go anywhere in the mansion and it would take him a great deal of time to locate her. Knowing which way she took helped him a lot. He quietly followed her trail, hoping he was going in the right direction. He stopped in front of a small number of doors, some leading to other hallways. He closed his eyes and tried to sense her presence. It led him straight ahead and he ended up in the kitchen. A breeze went through the room, more potent than normal. He looked around and found the doors open when he knew that only the windows were when he was in the kitchen earlier. Her back presented itself to him and he smiled slightly.

'Found ya.' He silently thought. His smile widened a little more and he slowly walked to the doors, hoping to not catch her attention. He didn't want to scare her off.

Now at the doors, he leaned against one silently and crossed his arms. He stared at her posture and noticed something off in it. His brow furrowed down a degree. One hand rose from the comfort of its embrace and a finger extended to the glass. Softly, he rapt on it to get her attention. She jumped and whirled around to see who scared her. Her eyes went from thoughtful to nothing when they landed on him. He wondered what she was thinking about. "I'm sorry if I scared you." He apologized.

She turned around again without a word. She leaned against the banister outlooking the area again, staring at the morning. It was so fake; she could easily pick out a few things wrong with its inauthenticiy. She hated the colonies, they weren't Earth. "You didn't." She evenly responded. He walked up next to her and leaned on the banister as well.

She felt uncomfortable at the closeness, but felt he wanted to talk to her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. His hair ruffled in the phony breeze, eyes staring straight ahead at the morning with her. His attitude seemed casual and carefree. If she only knew the burdens he held, she wouldn't be so crass with him.

He felt her eyes and kept an even, but pleasant outward demeanor to him. He'd been taking too many lessons from his fellow pilots. "Did you enjoy your breakfast?" He softly asked.

Her entire face swung to his, her braid whipping around her. How did HE know she ate? Unless... "Why do you want to know?" She asked, evading the question.

He looked at her, his eyes kind. "Who do you think set it before your tree?" He smiled slightly. He knew little of her and had hoped it to be a dove of peace between them. He hadn't done anything to upset her view of him, but she was prejudice toward him without even knowing him.

"YOU did that?" She whispered. It stunned her. She had treated him with nothing but malice, and he was still overly nice to her. She was unable to take the consistency of friendliness these select few displayed around her. SHE wouldn't be so kind if the roles were reversed. Why did these people care about her so much? "Why?" She asked confused.

"Because I don't like people not liking me. Friends are easier to be near than enemies." He smiled slightly. "Do I seem like an enemy to you?" His enchanting eyes and smile took any words from her mind. She dropped her eyes to the marble and shook her head no. "Then why do you treat me as one?"

She had never felt so low. She wondered why. She didn't know how long she was here for and once she left, she would probably never see this person again. But he could see the real her, had ever since they first met. He knew she wasn't a bad person, just misguided.

"If you always let the past rule your life, it will cloud your judgment. You will never be able to be free like you were when you were little. You're so cold to anyone that tries to befriend you. THEY shouldn't be your enemy."

For the first time, she actually thought about her father's words. She listened to them, took them to heart. After her father started going downhill, she ignored any harsh words he said to her because she would break if she did. The newly developed trait seemed to carry over into whatever he said. She let a sliver of light in on the man she used to cherish calling father. He seemed more wise than she used to think he was.

"I don't know." She whispered. He shook his head slowly.

"You DO know. The only problem is, you know more than any of us. You carry the pain of your past within you and won't let it out." His eyes dropped to the marble. "I know what that's like. You shouldn't carry all that inside you. It'll eat you alive if you don't change it." Her eyes moved up to his face, but he kept his eyes trained on the banister. "You can't keep all that inside. There are people willing to listen to you."

"If you carry this burden around with you forever, how do you expect to live a normal life again? You should be able to live how you want to without the past consuming you. I know what it's like to be consumed by something. I don't want to see that happen to you."

She looked away to the distance, unable to find a way to act for the first time since she left. It had always been so easy before. Now she was unsure. So many wise words were thrown out from the most unexpected sources. He looked up at her when she was silent. His eyes took in her face. Uneasiness and insecurity resided in her eyes, something that looked so unlike her. She looked to be thinking of something other than their conversation. He lightly bit his lower lip.

She kept her sight trained on the horizon. "Thank you...for the food." She whispered. He eyed her. She didn't turn his way. She exhaled a deep breath. "So...you know what pain and suffering is like? You know what it's like to live in fear every waking moment of your life, wondering if you'll ever wake up again?"

"Yes." She swung melancholy eyes to his. He was taken aback slightly. He nodded.

"How do you know?" She asked softly. He offered a small encouraging smile.

"I was in the war. I felt exactly what you're going through. Others like me have felt exactly what you're going through."

"Trowa?" She asked. He nodded.

"Yes, he was in the war with me. That's where I met him from." Quatre smiled wistfully, remembering those days. Times seemed almost simpler then, they had a reason to live, to fight. Though he abhorred fighting, it was necessary to bring about peace. A strange irony. He turned back to Washu. "That's why I knew you were going through something. I can sense those in pain somehow. It's hard to explain." He shook his head slightly. He looked down at his empty open hands.

She stared at his lost look. So others knew her pain. She felt a little less isolated from the world. Trowa had been through the war as well? Was that what her father meant? He might have met Trowa through fighting and might not have even known it. She wondered if her father was just crazy, but now it seemed that what the blond man was saying was true. She stared at the horizon. "Why did the war have to come about?" She asked softly. Quatre looked up at her. He shook his head.

"I don't know. War is the worst way to change ideas." He looked to the horizon with her. "I hate fighting but I did it to protect the ones I loved and cared about. I fought so others didn't have to. If I did, they would be able to live their lives without knowing the true horrors of war."

She was moved by his speech. Pricks of tears sprang forward to her eyes. "But your life was changed itself. You never got to see your family for the entire time. You missed their growing up, you never got to show them you loved them." He looked at her from the corner of his vision. She was talking about her own family not just his. Her words held double negatives.

"One reason I fought. So others wouldn't know what I experienced. They wouldn't have to feel the loss I did when I saw my father killed." Wide eyes swung over to him in surprise. Quatre's head bowed with closed eyes. "He was killed to keep the Winner satellite from being used to make mobile dolls." He looked at Washu with sad eyes and noted her tears. He smiled sadly. "War changed everybody, even the bystanders. It's a curse that's brought on because people are too stubborn to accept that what they think is wrong."

"I know." It was her turn to look at her hands. "I've carried my hate inside for so long." Pulling the tail end of her braid forward, she fiddled with the free strands. She finally felt comfortable enough to talk to someone. She never figured it would be this man. She had only known him a few days, but he had shared something so apart of his soul, she felt that they were acquaintances for a much longer time. "I was always afraid for my life, and my mother's. My grandparents taught me so much about life and my lessons to carry on. I hardly saw my mother whenever my father was around after the war. It wasn't that she didn't want me around, but she feared for my safety." She sadly closed her eyes. "I missed out on a lot that we could've done together. The only times I have are before the war when my father was a caring man." Midnight opened again, hate and hurt residing. "He came back such a different man. So different..."

Quatre felt the pain she radiated, the anger. His hand slowly moved to cover hers, something he wondered if she would tolerate. He just wanted to comfort her. Someone should never have to experience that from family. Every relative he had would never instill fear or drive him away.

She felt the tentative touch of his skin and the warmth that emitted from him. She felt the old want to pull away from human contact...but something stopped her. Her real self maybe? She hadn't been comforted from this problem since her mother was alive. Her eyes teared up slightly. She was touched. "I always ignored the ramblings whenever he was around. I knew they weren't true and if I listened I would feel worthless." She turned her face from his view, giving him the back of her head. She felt so ashamed at how she acted. His hand squeezed slightly, letting her know he was there to listen. He would always listen when someone needed an ear. They were alike on so many points. He believed she was as kind as he, but was afraid to show it. Her true self was driven to slumber by her father's ways and she was forced to become silent and emotionless to survive. That wasn't right.

"But you ran away? What will they think? Doesn't your mother worry where you are?" He asked softly. She bit her inner lip, unsure how to go on. She had told him too much already. She hadn't even told Catherine any of this, even though all odds pointed to the one who first slipped past her exterior. It was a strange world alright.

She didn't know if she wanted the pity or sorrow he would give out. She couldn't help the fact that her mother...was dead. A tear fell.

"Things happen for a REASON child. You need to UNDERSTAND this."

'I understand mother, but I still don't like it.' She thought sadly.

"There's no need." She whispered. "My father killed my mother in a fit one night." She bowed her head. Her throat convulsed as she harshly swallowed.

He was stunned speechless. How could such a person be able to commit such a horrible act? He could tell she was suffering. He now understood why she hated a select few. He'd seen the way she acted around the workers that stayed in his home. Almost all were men. She hated them all because she grew up fearing them. Now that she was free of the fear, anger was her new companion. It all made sense, even though some of the pieces were missing. Where was her father? Would he try to find her? Why didn't she go to the police?

His hand slowly kneaded the skin over her palm, trying to find the right words to say. He didn't want to say he was sorry because it was a universal sign of sorrow. He knew she was not sorrowful about what happened; she was angry.

"How did you manage to survive?" He asked. Diverting the topic to her better ways might be easier to handle. Showing her how strong she was would help.

She clenched her jaw. She wouldn't tell him what she'd done to him, but there were ways of getting around it. "I learned what my grandfather taught me. He taught me martial arts to help me in case my father attacked me."

'Which he did.' She added silently.

"He inadvertently taught me to face fear instead of cringing from it. I shoved emotions aside to be strong. I didn't show weakness in front of him. I never gave him a reason to put me down or try and hit me. I ran away with a few items of clothing to start a new life. I used basic instinct to keep me level-headed."

He could tell that having her think of all the ways she stayed alive would help her. Her eyes hardened and any sorrow drained from her body. She was able to get out the pain without the want to be consoled. He understood why she didn't want that now too. It was hard for someone to accept help when you forced yourself to depend solely on yourself. He saw her in a new light.

The pain actually lifted a notch. She actually felt better. 'Strange. It doesn't hurt as bad anymore.' She marveled in the lighter feeling of a softer burden.

The morning seemed to take forever to rise, though in fact their time had slowed down. She realized that there were a few things that needed to be tended to more than her own emotions. Her body agreed with her and a stab of pain from her neck muscles reminded her of how she slept last night. She slowly leaned back and faced Quatre. "I thank you for listening." She said. He faced her and nodded with a small smile. "Is there a place where I can bathe? My muscles need to unwind." He nodded.

"There are plenty of bathrooms open. I can have a hot bath drawn up if you want to go get your things." She nodded and turned to the banister. Both palms pressed against it as her weight shifted. She vaulted over the railing and down a story. Quatre quickly rushed to it and looked down as she fell. She landed in a crouched position and then stood up, unharmed. He shook his head in small wonder. He smiled softly. She was a lot like Trowa, taking risks that could be avoided.

'Trowa would've probably jumped higher though.' He thought amused. Turning, he went to find a servant to fulfill his new friend's request.

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After tossing the bag onto the ground, she grabbed the case from a branch it hung from. 'I can't believe I just did that.' She thought. Shifting her weight on the branch, she stared at the closed guitar case. 'When had I become so soft?' She gazed at the old leather binding as if it could give her answers. A bird sounded from somewhere and broke her trance. Slowly looking at the ground, she grabbed the case with a firm hand. Tightening a fist, she held it close to her body to keep safe. Standing, she slowly balanced her way down till she could jump without fear of other limbs hitting her or the guitar.

Once on the ground, she opened the case to check for broken strings, or chipped pieces in the acoustic design. Satisfied it was okay, she closed it again and clicked the locks. Grabbing the military duffle, she swung it over her shoulder and slowly walked to the mansion.

As soon as she hit the kitchen balcony a story up, she gulped. Was she really going to do this? Accept the help of others? She didn't even think of the jump, she could've done higher. It was the emotional attachments she was wary of. She didn't want to feel for anything else again, yet it felt good to just let go for a while and recall the events to someone that understood. She shifted the weight to a different hand and stared at it again. 'Gappa, how was I blessed with such good, understanding listeners?' She didn't know many who would be so compassionate and she wasn't expecting it anymore. It was a new experience to be treated normally, to be cared for. She wasn't used to the idea of not having walls. The walls were her companions for years, even before the war started.

'So what do I do now?' If she jumped, she would accept the normal world and it would probably be a step away from the forest. Her upper body swung back to look at the trees. The wind generator softly moved the smaller branches and the leaves that lived on them. It was an inviting moment. She COULD just go put her things back in the upper limbs of the tree and go be with the animals.

Her face swung back to the balcony. 'Or I could go take a bath and loosen my muscles for a while.' Her free hand pulled her braid to her face. The oil on her unwashed hair glistened in the morning light. Her nose wrinkled and her lips curled slightly in self-disgust. She was a mess. 'The hell with it.' Letting go of her hair, she looked up at the white marble and vaulted up. Landing on the edge she had leaned on moments ago, she easily hopped to the floor and slowly walked in as if she owned the place.

The free hand came up to hold the strap over her shoulder. She felt like a traveler that was offered a night in a palace before moving on. Her lips pursed slightly on one side of her mouth. She looked at the guitar as she walked. 'I haven't played in a while.' She realized. Maybe it was time she did. The last time she remembered even tuning the guitar was at Trowa's surprise party. That was months ago. She felt the urge to sit down in the halls and play a melody. The muscles in her legs protested, driving her to that most inviting bath that was offered and waiting her arrival. 'Maybe later then.' She smiled slightly. She would play, maybe when she finished?

She stopped in the dining room, purposely this time. A few stragglers were still there, some eating with the rest chatting away casually. Catherine and Trowa were both eating. Her walk paused a step. She figured at least TROWA would be done by now.

Catherine saw Washu approach. With her things in hand. Her foot nudged Trowa's under the table, getting his attention. When he looked at her curiously, her eyes swung to Washu as she approached next to Trowa. He slowly looked over and immediately knew something was different about her. The things she carried were a given. That took his a second to register. He wondered what she was doing bringing them in here, he figured she would never stay in the mansion. Though Quatre offered and maybe she was finally caving in and opting for an actual BED.

She stopped by him, not setting anything down. She eyed Cathy with a small, easy smile. Catherine nearly beamed back at her. Washu seemed better than normal and it was nice to see. "Can we help you Washu?" She asked.

She nodded. "Do you know where Quatre is?" She asked softly. Other eyes looked at her curiously. Trowa eyed her.

"I'm sorry I don't Washu." Cathy apologized. She gave Washu a sympathetic smile. Washu nodded.

"Just checking." She said. Slowly, she began her walk to the other side of the room to the other exit. She would just have to search for him then.

He saw her leaving and stood up without thought. Cathy jerked her head back in surprise. "Cathy." He nodded his leave. She smiled, granting it. She watched with amused eyes as her brother caught up to the Chinese girl. She turned her chair and propped her hand up on the arm to watch them leave. A wide sisterly smile graced her lips.

'Those two are going to make a cute couple.' She thought. 'Once they realize it anyway.' She giggled softly and turned the chair around.

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He walked in step with her as Washu ambled around. "What do you need to see Quatre for?" He asked monotone. She kept her slack pace, looking around.

"He said he was going to draw me a bath. He didn't say which room so I need to find him to figure out where." His step paused and took him out of sync with hers. He quickly overcame his surprise.

'I missed something here.' He thought confused.

"When was this?" He asked, trying to keep it casual. The two had TALKED? Was it the reason Quatre had left the table and not return this morning? He could see no other reason. He left right after Washu did...the pieces fit.

"Earlier." Her whole body wanted that bath and it wasn't keeping her ears as sharp as they would've been around Trowa. He normally listened to her, she felt compelled to at least return the favor somewhat. But right now she wanted to relax and unwind. Pain from her knee started and lessened when she bent her leg once in a while. It was getting annoying.

Trowa didn't really know what to say. He made it a point to ask Quatre what happened as soon as the two had a chance alone to talk. "Do you know where he normally would be?" She asked. The two passed by a music room and she immediately paused. The light oak doors gaped open, revealing all the shiny instruments inside. She felt almost giddy. A few flutes and violins lay on holders in cabinets. A grand piano stood off to one side. A cello and small electronic keyboard were set aside nearby. She felt the urge to play call to her. A seat by the window was bathed in light, the perfect place to tune her guitar and play to her heart's content.

"Washu?" Snapped out of her reverie, she swung to Trowa. Her head ducked with a small smile.

"Sorry. I haven't seen this room before." She inadvertently apologized. She looked back at it longingly.

"You haven't been in the palace. Maybe when you're done freshening up, I can show you around." Her smile widened a little more.

"Maybe." She nodded softly.

"Washu? Trowa?" Both swung to the caller. Quatre waved once as he walked up. "I have your bath ready. It's on the third floor, six rooms down, to the right. You can use the bedroom, that's empty." She nodded and took off.

Once she was out of sight, Trowa turned to Quatre. "So you talked to her? She spoke to you?" Quatre nodded. His hands rested in his pockets. "What did she say to you?" Quatre swallowed harshly and looked at the polished floor. Slowly, his shoe moved against the floorboards. He didn't really know where to begin, but Trowa needed to hear this.

"Well...I hold new respect for her is what I can start at." He stuttered.

"What do you mean?" Quatre looked at a lost Trowa and sighed. He shook his head slowly.

"Take a walk with me Trowa. Let's go to my office for the privacy. There're a few things I need to tell you."

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As soon as she stripped all clothing from her body and stared at the water, she purposely locked the door. A few candles were lit, their aroma wafting in the air. She took a whiff with a small smile. Vanilla. Her eyes opened at the heavenly picture that presented itself to her.

A large claw bathtub stood in the center of the black and white checkered floor. Gold colored fixtures decorated it. White walls made the room seem larger than it already was. The designs on the painted wood were beautiful. A small toilet stood to one corner. A large stand up shower occupied the other across from it. A delicate looking sink stood next to the door, a good-sized medicine cabinet above it. A vanity rested a few foot from the shower. In between the shower and toilet was another ledge in front of the window. The windows were tall and narrow, spilling a great deal of sunlight into the room. She slowly walked in and turned a full circle. Next to the door was a bathroom armoire, one door open. Bright yellow towels shone through, showing her where they were hiding. She walked to it and drew two out, one for her body and the other her hair. A most delightful smell came from the closet and she inhaled the smell of the dryer sheets. It was heavenly.

"It's all beautiful." She murmured. Her voice echoed in the large room. It was the largest bathroom she had ever SEEN in her LIFE.

'Can you BELIEVE this mother?' She thought in wonder. 'Are you seeing this beauty as I am?' Slinging both towels over her shoulder, she walked to the tub and set them on a small stool in front of the tub. Clear water awaited her. It was maybe seven inches from the top of the tub. She smiled.

A toe carefully plunged in to check the temperature. It was perfect. Her smile widened. Without caution, she stuck her entire leg in and then sat down. Her head leaned back on an air pillow suctioned to the back of the tub. A pleasurable sigh worked its way out as her body relaxed. She immediately felt no want to move. She softly chuckled.

After a while, she looked around the room once she was able to loosen up. The designs on the walls were allowed extra time to be admired. The carvings were beautiful, even though they were simple. Her gaze cast upwards and found a beautifully painted ceiling with a fake candle chandelier in the center. The painting was beautiful, clouds with part of the sun peaking through. She smiled in delight. She would have to tell Quatre how beautiful this place was. And it was only the bathroom. 'There must be MANY places just as beautiful as this, if not MORE so.'

Finally having the energy to get cleaned up, one hand reached up to pull her braid in front of her. Taking out the elastic band, she stuck it in the water and unraveled it. Once her hair nearly took over the tub, she looked around again. Shampoo, conditioner, soap, and a yellow washcloth stood on another stool behind the tub. She reached for the shampoo and smelt the same vanilla. It smelled like the candles.

Grabbing a large amount, she kneeled in the tub and slowly started washing her hair. It took quite a while to do, but she managed to get it done. After dunking it in the water, she grabbed a large quantity of conditioner and applied it over her large mass of hair. She had thought about getting it cut a few times in the past, but it was too special to her to cut. She only had her hair cut once YEARS ago, but her mother said it was so much more fun to play with when it was long and she shied away from scissors ever since.

Finished with her hair, she grabbed the washcloth and soap. It smelled like lavender. After giving her body a good scrubbing, she soaked in the tub again before regrettably standing to drip dry for a minute. After her hair was wrung of a good portion of water, she grabbed the plug to the drain and the water started depleting. She kneeled in the empty bathtub, air drying. The windows were opened and a cool breeze blew over her exposed skin. It felt good.

Standing up, she grabbed a towel and carefully wrapped her hair up. The other she slowly rubbed herself dry. Wrapping the now damp towel around her body, she shook any excess water from her feet before stepping onto the floor. She didn't want to get anything on it, even though it was tile and easy to clean. It was still too beautiful to get dirty in any way. She flipped off the lights before moving to the door.

Shutting the bathroom door, she walked to her duffle and picked out a fresh pair of clothes. After dressing, she undid the towel and hung the two used ones on part of the four-post bed. Walking back into the bathroom again, she grabbed another fluffy towel and started hand drying her hair.

A knock sounded shortly after she started in. Getting off the bed she was perched on, she slowly walked to the door, one hand methodically moving the towel over her scalp. "Yes?" She called out just before the door.

"It's Quatre. Is it okay to come in?" He asked loudly. Unlocking the door, she leisurely opened it. He smiled as she swung the towel over a shoulder.

"Your bathroom is very beautiful." She softly commented. She smiled softly. He grinned.

"There're more beautifully designed places I'm sure." He slightly joked. She looked down, smiling a little wider. "Did you like the bath?"

"VERY much so. My body thanks me." She looked into his eyes, hers shining with mirth. He realized she made a small joke and chuckled softly. She blushed lightly. She didn't joke often.

"Well I just came up to check on you. You were actually in there for quite a while." Her eyes widened slightly.

"How long? I didn't miss anything did I?" She bit her lower lip, fretting she missed out on something with the animals. A meeting concerning them would not be good to miss.

"About an hour, but nothing major. Everyone was just checking the equipment. Catherine offered to feed the animals since you needed to relax." Washu's mouth opened, but Quatre stuck a hand to quiet her. "She offered because she KNEW you needed to relax." He crossed his arms lightly. "I'm betting you don't often?" He raised an eyebrow slightly and looked on with a smile. She lowered her head slightly and shook it. "Then it was a warranted slip. Trust me, we ALL need those from time to time." He joked lightly. He was referring to the mass amounts of paperwork that would be greeting him when he got back to the office in a few days. Right now, this was his time off to spend with those he didn't get to see very often. She stepped back into the room, grabbing the towel.

"As long as I wasn't needed all that much." She commented. He slowly stepped into the room, feeling like he was invading her privacy somehow. She sat down on the bed and continued to hand dry her hair. It was going to take a while. He slowly walked to the center of the room and watched her. She felt no qualms about the eyes on her this time; she felt he could be trusted wholeheartedly.

"Why don't you leave your hair down?" He suddenly said. She looked up, her head tilted to shift the mass amount. It spilled on one side, part of it laying limp on the bed.

"What?" She asked, not paying attention.

"Your hair. Leave it down. It looks better that way." He said again. She went back to briskly drying it again with a denying shake of her head.

"It gets in my way. I can't have it roaming free. A braid is much more manageable."

"But you don't have a show for a few hours. You can braid it later. Besides, it's gotta dry somehow." He smiled and walked over to the bed. One hand came out and picked up a good sized chunk of damp hair. "Something with this much mass needs a lot of air. I know; one of my employees has thick hair like you do." He let the hair drop and it fell heavily onto the bed. She looked at him. Employees?

He looked to the door. "Well I'd better go get some documents read." He slightly grimaced. "Keep in mind what I said okay? As the old saying goes: 'Let your hair down once in a while'." He smiled at her and then closed the door behind him.

She stared at the closed door a little lost. She'd never heard the saying before and didn't know what he meant by documents. 'Maybe he's a business partner in something?' She wondered. She dried it the best she could and grabbed a brush from her bag. Working from the end up, she finally smoothed out everything till it felt like silk. A good portion of it was dry, but not enough to count. She stared at her brush, considering what Quatre said. 'Leave it down... There IS a few hours till our show...' Her lips pursed, undecided.

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Trowa wandered around the mansion, utterly bored. He had nothing to do now that everything was taken care of. He and Cathy had fed the animals for Washu, giving the girl the time for her bath. His mind had blanked about ten minutes after he stopped thinking about all Quatre said. It put a LOT of things into perspective about her behavior. He looked as far back at their first meeting and used the knowledge he had to see why she acted like she did. It all made sense. Now he knew why she was so cold, she had every right to be. But he hoped he changed her thinking about HIM at LEAST.

He wandered up to the third floor using a set of back stairs from the second to look around. Hands loosely clasped behind him, he slowly wandered around. Emerald eyes looked into empty rooms he passed. Walking to the end of the hall, he found himself in front of a closed door marked 'office'. 'He's NOT-' Without knocking, he turned the knob and slowly opened the door. Quatre looked up when he entered, a paper in his hands. His head shook slightly to clear the cobwebs.

"Is there something you needed Trowa?" Quatre asked. A hand went up to rub his temple softly. The complexity of the laws specified in the contract was starting to hurt his brain. He almost welcomed Trowa's intrusion, if he didn't need to get it looked over so badly. He needed to make sure the rough draft was perfect for the chairman to sign when he returned.

Trowa walked into the room, an impatient look on his face. "Come with me." He ordered evenly. Quatre blinked at him, still holding the paper. Both of Trowa's hands rested on the desk, supporting his weight as he leaned over them. "Now."

"Can't it wait until after I get this read? I need to make sure there're no errors that make this deal null and void when I get back to the office." He argued. Trowa didn't blink.

"Now." He repeated, the tone giving no room for any more argument. Quatre tossed the paper onto his desk, letting it flutter down onto the mahogany table.

"If you say so Trowa." His leather chair pushed back slowly and soon the two left the office. They slowly walked to the main stairs down to the ground floor. They ambled around silently until Quatre stopped them. "Was there something you wanted to show me Trowa?" He asked.

Trowa looked at his friend, seeing the tension in his face ease. "No. I just needed you to get out of the office for a little while so you could relax. You were developing a headache." Quatre nodded slightly, not surprised at his friend's ability to read his body language. But he did feel better. The headache that threatened to start was gone. He smiled slightly.

"Well it's gone now. Thanks Trowa." Trowa smiled slightly and nodded. The two returned to their walk, enjoying each other's company. Trowa stopped when he heard something familiar that he hadn't in months. Quatre stopped when he heard the strings being plucked. It was soft, but confident. The two looked at each other and silently followed the music. The search ended at the music room, one door closed with the other gaping open a crack. It was just enough for the two to peak inside and see who was in. Trowa already knew whom it was by the type of instrument being played. Quatre saw Washu on the jut in the window, strumming a guitar. Her head bent down to look at the strings as she played a nonsense melody. He smiled gently. Her hair was free of any restrictions and part of it rested over her shoulder.

Trowa noted her change in demeanor and thought she looked beautiful with her hair down. 'Much more mature.' He thought. 'She always wears it in that restrictive braid. She should leave it like that more often.' He smiled slightly.