Quatre fought back a lump in his throat when he saw the horse laying there, surrounded by shards of glass.  He left Dorothy on the bed and hid behind the door.  Rashid opened it up seconds later.

            "Ha! Get up!" Quatre yelled.  Sure enough, the horse jumped up, flinging the remnants of the mirror on top of Rashid. Quatre snatched up Dorothy and mounted.  The horse ran right over Rashid, a cry spilling from his throat beneath his master.  Blaze hurried back up the stairs taking several at a time.  At the top, Quatre dismounted and wedged the door half-in and half-out the frame, making it difficult for someone as big as Rashid to squeeze out.  He jumped back onto Blaze and Dorothy woke up suddenly.  Quatre, who was wearing a gray shirt and loose black jeans, was her knight in shining armor. 

            "Quatre!" she cried, holding onto him.  They galloped all the way into the house. 

            "Dorothy, call the police," he ordered, dismounting and locking the door behind them.  Dorothy tried to get off, but fell to the floor hard.

            "Oh, Dorothy," he reached for her, but fell, too.

            "Honey, your neck," Dorothy muttered. For a moment, they rested.  Dorothy pushed the top half of her body above the floor.

            "Food," she muttered. Rashid smashed a hole in the thick patio glass with his fist.  Quatre snapped up, scattering pain up and down his back, and took Dorothy's hand.  Rashid smashed another hole through the glass; one more would let him in.  Quatre doubled back with Dorothy back through the reception room into the ballroom and ran back around to the front of the main stairs and toward the door that was about fifty feet away.  He turned the knob.  It was locked. He turned the lock and tried to open it.  It didn't open.  Rashid broke through the glass.  Quatre and Dorothy gasped and backed against the door.  Quatre rammed it, hurting himself more than the door.  Rashid had replaced it sometime ago with metal-enforced wood.  Quatre ran around the other side of the stairs down a corridor, Dorothy barely keeping up with him.  At the end of the corridor, Quatre opened a door that led out to the gardens—at least he tried, but the door wouldn't budge, and Quatre knew that if he tried to smash through, he'd just hurt himself.  He ran back to the beginning of the corridor.  Rashid turned the corner of the steps.  Dorothy shrieked and they doubled back, hurrying back down.  Quatre veered to the left and snatched opened up a door, revealing a staircase.  He pushed Dorothy up, Rashid's footsteps coming down the hall after them.  Dorothy just hit the low ceiling.

            "Quatre, it's a dead end!" she screamed.

            "No!" Quatre pushed hard against the ceiling.  A door opened up into an attic.  Rashid started up the steps.  Quatre pushed Dorothy up and pulled himself up.  He waited for Rashid to be right at them before slamming the door down.  Rashid cried out and receded. 

            "Help me!" Quatre took hold of a bin full of his child hood clothes and tried to scoot it on top of the door.  Dorothy pulled and Quatre pushed.  She stepped on the door.  It bounced up.

            "Ahh!" she screeched weakly in terror, falling down.  Quatre jumped down hard and the door went down.  Dorothy was shaken.

            "Come on, Dorothy!" Quatre pushed the bin hard over.  Dorothy pulled it over the rest of the way.  They both struggled on top of the bin and breathed hard.  Dorothy held onto Quatre's arm.  Dorothy lay against Quatre's back.  It hurt, but he let her stay; her love was worth a moment's discomfort.

            Relena fidgeted and stared blankly out the window.  Heero laid his hand on hers.  She looked into his eyes and was still. 

            "What's the matter?" he asked in a gentle voice.

            "Aren't you worried? I'm about to lose my mind. Quatre hasn't heard from Dorothy in like a week."

            "Of course I'm worried! Otherwise, I wouldn't on this plane. I'm just not about to lose my mind.  I just talked to Quat yesterday."

            "Call him now.  He should be at the hospital.  I don't think they let psych ward patients out by themselves unless they were admitted by themselves."

            Heero sighed and dialed the hospital, then Quatre's extension.  He was surprised when a woman picked up, but it wasn't Dorothy."

            "Hello?"

            "Dorothy?"

            "No, I'm sorry, this is Harriet Roberts, R.N."

            "Is this Quatre Winner's room?"

            "The man registered under that name has been missing since yesterday."

            Heero stopped.  Relena looked at him.  She shook his arm.  He looked at her but talked to the nurse.

            "What do you mean the man registered under that name? Don't you recognize Quatre Rababer Winner?"

            "I thought I did, but that guy turned out to be some psycho impersonator."

            "The sweet little blond guy?"

            "Yeah.  We didn't know what his real name was, so we just called him Quatre."

            Relena was listening now by pressing her ear against the phone and was appalled by what she heard.  Heero felt a heat rising in his throat. 

            "When did he leave?"

            "We're not sure. We searched the surrounding areas, but there was no sign of him, so we gave him up for lost."

            A horrendous anger overcame Relena and she leaned away. 

            "Okay, thank you," Heero said coldly, and hung up.  Relena flashed him and angry look.

            "What?" he demanded

            "You weren't worried enough."

            "Fine, I was wrong." Heero muttered, not wishing to suffer humiliation and then lose the argument. 

            The shuttle arrived at the airport almost an hour later.  Heero rented a car for them and they were gone before the paparazzi could catch them.

            Quatre shook Dorothy gently and woke her from a light nap.  She opened her eyes to the window and looked into the early evening sky.  Quatre was pulling something on the wall.  A huge vent cover wriggled loose. 

            "We gotta get outta here." He grunted through neck-paining work.  Dorothy didn't move immediately.  There was a drilling noise beneath her.  Quatre whipped around and walked to her slowly.  The drilling was louder and she looked down.

The floor crashed through. Dorothy screamed. 

            "Dorothy!" Quatre screamed, yanking her back before she went with the bin.  He hurried her over to the open vent.  She climbed in, and he after her.  He shouted to her to go this way and that, until she pushed another vent open and pulled herself up.  Quatre closed the vent tight. Dorothy hurried over and quietly closed the door and locked it.  Quatre scooted his desk in front of the door.  He didn't worry about the vent; Rashid was far too big to fit in it.  He thanked God for that.  Quatre flopped on the bed.  Dorothy started to, but went for the phone.  There was no dial tone.  She looked the phone over.  The cord was missing.

            "Oh my God Quatre," she called to him in a voice that hurt his heart, "where's the cord for the phone?"

            Quatre slowly sat up. "It's not there?"

            "No."

            "Oh, God," he lay back down.  He looked at his wall.  "The window." He muttered, getting up slowly and going for it.  He pulled back his curtains—and found himself yanking at the iron bars that kept him in. 

            "Oh, Quatre!" Dorothy whimpered.  Rashid pounded viciously on the door.   Dorothy scurried across the room into Quatre's arms.

            "Quatre! BANG-BANG-BANG Quatre! I know you're in there! You can stay in there forever! Come out and face me like a man! Come out, you coward!"

            Dorothy laid her hands on Quatre's chest from behind him and pressed her head against his back.  He closed his eyes and prayed for a miracle.