Title: Identity

Summary: Songfic (yet again), Quatre kinda arguing with his father.

Note: This takes place between Quatre, Iria and Mr. Winner's conversation and Mr. Winner's death.

Disclaimer, Claimer and Such: I don't own GW, or the song Identity. That belongs to the kick-ass band Greenwheel. [shameless plug] Greenwheel is a St. Louis band. They did the song "Shelter" from the Spider-man soundtrack. If you liked that song, you'll love the rest of their CD, "Soma Holiday." If you didn't like the song, go check yourself into the nearest mental institution. [/end shameless plug]

//No one can hear all that's been said//

Quatre stands in his father's office, hands clasped behind his back, and stares out the window over the colony. His father is talking.

//You're feeding me useless lines of nothingness//

Quatre whirls suddenly, furious at something his father said. "We can't have peace without something to enforce it! That's why we fight- that's why I'm protecting you! Total pacifism- the way you see it- is impossible.

//Let me run away, don't keep me here//

"You're not leaving, Quatre." Quatre shakes his head. "Yes, I am. And you can't stop me."

//I can't stay around, I can't take this fear//

"Quatre Raberba Winner, you are forbidden to leave this house!" Quatre's father shouts. Quatre stares at him. "You're scared, aren't you. The war, the fighting, even my leaving scares you." "Of course it scares me, Quatre! I don't want to lose you-" "No. That's not it." Quatre turns back to the window. "You're afraid of your heir being a disgrace."

//Everything I wanna be a disgrace to my identity, I don't mind, no I don't mind//

"I'm going back, Father. I'm going, and I'll protect the people." Quatre turns to face his father. "And I don't care if I'm a disgrace."

//Just give me my indifference stop questioning my reason, I don't mind, no I don't mind//

"That sort of indifference is unbecoming of the Winner heir," his father says smoothly. Quatre shrugs. "Maybe I don't want to be the heir." "What?! That's what you were created for- why wouldn't you want to?" "I'm no good at business, to start. And I've met people who've changed me. Who've taught me about myself."

//Uncomfortably clear, all is the same now//

"The Magunacs? The other pilots?" Mocking laughter color's his father's voice. Quatre ignores it. "Yes. All of them." "And what did they teach you, Quatre? How did they change you?"

//I'm adapting to this, no I'm not afraid now//

"They helped me understand the real world and my place in it. They helped me realize what true peace is and how to achieve it. They've supported me through my darkest hours, and I've done the same for them." Quatre trails off, then looks up and meets his father's eyes. "They've taught me about love, and how not to be afraid." //Let me run away, don't keep me here

I won't stay around and take this fear//

"What is it with you and fear?" Quatre's father says, exasperated. Quatre smiles slightly. "I'm not afraid anymore. When I left, I was afraid of everything- including death. I'm not now. You're still scared though. I don't know what of- but you're still scared." Quatre sounds thoughtful. "I have to go now, Father." He walks to the door but his father blocks him from leaving.

//Everything I wanna be a disgrace to my identity I don't mind, no I don't mind//

"What did they teach you about love, Quatre?" Quatre looks to the side, uncertain. "One of the other pilots, perhaps?" Quatre remains silent. His father slaps him across the face. "Tell me, boy!" Quatre looks up, his eyes defiant. "Yes. Yes, it is one of the other pilots. His name is Trowa." His father hits him again, this time sending him flying across the room.

//Just give me my indifference, stop questioning my reason, I don't mind, no I don't mind//

"Get out of my sight!" his father hisses. Quatre blinks up at his father, dazed. The man strides across the room, preparing to kick him. Quatre rolls out of the way and jumps to his feet. He walks calmly to the door. "Get out of your sight, but don't leave the house?" he asks softly. A thin line of crimson appears on his face, clashing with the reddish handprint on his cheek. "Never set foot in this house again." Quatre pauses in the door, studying the room. "Get out!" his father screams, grabbing a picture from the desk and pitching it at the door, missing Quatre's head by inches. The frame and glass shatter and the photo drifts to the ground. It's the picture of a young Quatre and his father, laughing. Quatre catches the picture and studies it a moment, then looks up. "Yes, Father," he says softly.

//Everything I wanna be a disgrace to my identity, I don't mind, I don't mind

Just give me my indifference, stop questioning my reason//

Quatre returns to the hanger, studying the plans for the new Gundam. He furiously wipes the blood off his face, only to discover it's intermingles with his tears.

//I don't mind, no I don't mind

Everything I wanna be is a disgrace to my

Identity//