Sat in the driver's seat of Catherine's car, Quatre's mind continued to whirl and spin, trying to grasp the line of madness that he had been tossed in. Slim fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, whitening his knuckles. He was a trained Gundam pilot, one of the five most wanted men in all of outer space at one time. He didn't feel it right now. Options were slim at best. He could strike out at Cathrine, but then he took the chance of driving them both straight off the road and perhaps the gun going off against his side. Pressed against his lung, it would be his bad luck that the bullet might stray upwards to his heart. Option two was to simply go along with it for now. The second choice was looking better all the time, especially as Catherine prodded his side with the cold barrel of the gun.
"You never even gave a second thought to my poor Trowa, did you?" she asked him, every other word punctuated with another poke of her gun to his ribs. "You just abandoned him like a puppy that you didn't want anymore. It couldn't have been that the great Winner heir couldn't have a male lover because I see you all the time on the news with that other one. Trowa really loved you, and you just threw him aside. Did you at least wait a decent amount of time before jumping into Heero's bed, or were you with both at the same time?"
Quatre could only blink for a moment as he assimilated all that she spat at him. None of it made sense. He had begged, pleaded, cried, and asked Trowa more times than he could remember to just talk to him, open up that shell for a little while. He hadn't been with both of them at the same time! "Catherine... I... I don't know what you mean. Trowa and I parted ways long before Heero came into my life again. It wasn't that way at all."
The gun snapped up, the circle of the muzzle pressed tightly against Quatre's cheekbone. If she pulled the trigger, they'd be mopping his brains out of the car's upholstery for the next few months. "Don't tell me how it was, Quatre. You all think I'm just some pretty face that ran a circus, but that's not true. I knew when you came back long ago that you would drag Trowa from the safety of my arms back into the war raging in space. I let you do it, thinking that you would take care of him, love him. If he went to you, not even knowing who you were, then he had to love you. He was willing to give his life for you, just to stop your Heero from killing you when you were trying to destroy that colony. And you just left him! But we're going to make that better, Quatre. We're going to make that all better. Pull around the back of that dark blue tent over there. It won't do you any good to make noise when we step out of this car. I've given everyone the day off, and if you did bring someone to help you by screaming, I'd just have to shoot them too. Lions and tigers eat a lot of meat, Quatre. Keep that in mind."
Stepping out of the car as directed, Quatre maintained his silence. She was just insane enough to hurt anyone he might warn, and the Arabian wasn't prepared to have an innocent's death on his conscious. He'd stained his hands with enough blood during the wars. A poke of the gun guided him into the tent, the entire thing empty except for a coffin-like crate on the floor. Eyeing it, real fear began to nibble at him.
Catherine had prepared this place well, somehow suspecting that this might be the only course of action left to her. Heero was just too damned hard to kill. If he had been good and just died, then none of this would have been necessary. He would be dead, and Trowa could have been there to comfort Quatre. Things would have gone on their natural course then. But no, Heero had to make this difficult. This might be better anyways. Trowa's birthday was in a week. By then, they could be far away, on another colony. The thought of his expression when he opened -this- birthday present brought a grin to Catherine's face.
A syringe prepared earlier was taken from the pocket in the canvas tent where she had left it. While the golden haired boy was busy staring in surprise at his new home, she plunged it into his neck, emptying the contents. Even his slight weight as he fell was hard for her to manage being as sick as what she was. The boy was pushed into the crate, a blanket wrapped about him. One of the warnings of the sedative had been that it lowered body temperature. It just wouldn't do to have a Quatre-cicle when they moved him. Gazing down at the sleeping cherubic face, Catherine's fingers stroked his face gently, drawing back the silken curls. "I always thought I would make a good sister-in-law for you."
****************
The other Gundam pilots sat in a half circle about one of the Preventer computers, tracing back through the lines of what all had happened to Heero and Quatre. It was frustrating and unrewarding work, none of the incidents leaving behind many clues for them to track. Even Wufei was starting to show signs of upset, his delicate mouth tugging into a frown. The shrill tones of Heero's cellular broke their concentration. "Moshi moshi," Heero muttered into it.
"Yuu-san, this is Hiroshi Sakura. I own the Gotham Cafe` that you and Winner-sama grace with your presence. I just wanted to call and let you know that Winner-sama left his wallet and phone here earlier when he was having lunch with his lady friend, Catherine. She's such a delight in the circus. Her act is my children's favourite. I didn't want him to think it had been stolen or lost."
"Arigato, Hiroshi-san. Think you can reserve a table for six people around eight tonight? I know it's short notice..."
"For you, nothing is a problem. I will see you then, Yuu-san."
Closing his phone, Heero frowned to himself. A female? It couldn't have been one of Quatre's sisters. Sakura knew them all. Couldn't have been a business lunch either. Shifting his attentions to Trowa, he nibbled his lip softly in thought. "Trowa? Catherine did come back with you, ne? I just got a call that Quatre left his wallet where they had lunch. Can you give her a call and ask if he's with her so he can pick it up?"
Trowa's shoulders rolled in a shrug as he rang her up, an inquisitive look on his face at the vauge upset in Heero's face. When her voice answered on the other end, his own concern showed through. His sister's voice sounded weaker than before, more frail as she gasped for breath. "Catherine? Are you all right?"
"Hai, I was just moving somethings from my tent, Trowa. Are you coming home? I think it might be best if we went back to L4. It's harder for me to breathe here..."
The Latino pilot paused before answering, warring thoughts registering in his mind. Her voice sounded wrong. This was the woman he spent more time with and around than any other. When she lied, her tone rose. He could almost see her playing with her hair as she did on the few occasions she tried to slip one past him. All of the tents had been taken down last night. Trowa had overseen it himself. None should have been standing for her to move anything out of. Straining for a jovial air, he laughed softly, "If you want, we can head back. We can't find Quatre though, and since we were back in town, I thought maybe he had dropped by the circus. Have you seen him?"
"No shoutei. I haven't seen Quatre since last time we were here, and he and the others came to the show. Gomen."
"All right. I'll be heading back soon, and we can start moving out. Just go lay down, okay?"
"Hai! See you then!"
Tapping the phone against his knee, Trowa's whole body felt sick down to his soul. She was lying on more than one count. She knew where Quatre was. Old conversations kept ringing in the halls of his memory, reminding him of times when she'd ask him if it wouldn't be better if Heero were dead and Quatre were back with him or if there was a chance that Quatre would leave Heero to come be with them. She'd always teased that he'd make sure a cute clown. "Oh Kami-sama... it's her. It's Catherine, Heero. We were in those places when it happened, but it wasn't me. She gets delusional at times. She says she hasn't seen him since last you all were at the circus."
All of them started for their vehicles, feeling the sands of time running out for them even as back at the circus, Catherine finished driving the last nails into the crate that held Quatre's body.
"You never even gave a second thought to my poor Trowa, did you?" she asked him, every other word punctuated with another poke of her gun to his ribs. "You just abandoned him like a puppy that you didn't want anymore. It couldn't have been that the great Winner heir couldn't have a male lover because I see you all the time on the news with that other one. Trowa really loved you, and you just threw him aside. Did you at least wait a decent amount of time before jumping into Heero's bed, or were you with both at the same time?"
Quatre could only blink for a moment as he assimilated all that she spat at him. None of it made sense. He had begged, pleaded, cried, and asked Trowa more times than he could remember to just talk to him, open up that shell for a little while. He hadn't been with both of them at the same time! "Catherine... I... I don't know what you mean. Trowa and I parted ways long before Heero came into my life again. It wasn't that way at all."
The gun snapped up, the circle of the muzzle pressed tightly against Quatre's cheekbone. If she pulled the trigger, they'd be mopping his brains out of the car's upholstery for the next few months. "Don't tell me how it was, Quatre. You all think I'm just some pretty face that ran a circus, but that's not true. I knew when you came back long ago that you would drag Trowa from the safety of my arms back into the war raging in space. I let you do it, thinking that you would take care of him, love him. If he went to you, not even knowing who you were, then he had to love you. He was willing to give his life for you, just to stop your Heero from killing you when you were trying to destroy that colony. And you just left him! But we're going to make that better, Quatre. We're going to make that all better. Pull around the back of that dark blue tent over there. It won't do you any good to make noise when we step out of this car. I've given everyone the day off, and if you did bring someone to help you by screaming, I'd just have to shoot them too. Lions and tigers eat a lot of meat, Quatre. Keep that in mind."
Stepping out of the car as directed, Quatre maintained his silence. She was just insane enough to hurt anyone he might warn, and the Arabian wasn't prepared to have an innocent's death on his conscious. He'd stained his hands with enough blood during the wars. A poke of the gun guided him into the tent, the entire thing empty except for a coffin-like crate on the floor. Eyeing it, real fear began to nibble at him.
Catherine had prepared this place well, somehow suspecting that this might be the only course of action left to her. Heero was just too damned hard to kill. If he had been good and just died, then none of this would have been necessary. He would be dead, and Trowa could have been there to comfort Quatre. Things would have gone on their natural course then. But no, Heero had to make this difficult. This might be better anyways. Trowa's birthday was in a week. By then, they could be far away, on another colony. The thought of his expression when he opened -this- birthday present brought a grin to Catherine's face.
A syringe prepared earlier was taken from the pocket in the canvas tent where she had left it. While the golden haired boy was busy staring in surprise at his new home, she plunged it into his neck, emptying the contents. Even his slight weight as he fell was hard for her to manage being as sick as what she was. The boy was pushed into the crate, a blanket wrapped about him. One of the warnings of the sedative had been that it lowered body temperature. It just wouldn't do to have a Quatre-cicle when they moved him. Gazing down at the sleeping cherubic face, Catherine's fingers stroked his face gently, drawing back the silken curls. "I always thought I would make a good sister-in-law for you."
****************
The other Gundam pilots sat in a half circle about one of the Preventer computers, tracing back through the lines of what all had happened to Heero and Quatre. It was frustrating and unrewarding work, none of the incidents leaving behind many clues for them to track. Even Wufei was starting to show signs of upset, his delicate mouth tugging into a frown. The shrill tones of Heero's cellular broke their concentration. "Moshi moshi," Heero muttered into it.
"Yuu-san, this is Hiroshi Sakura. I own the Gotham Cafe` that you and Winner-sama grace with your presence. I just wanted to call and let you know that Winner-sama left his wallet and phone here earlier when he was having lunch with his lady friend, Catherine. She's such a delight in the circus. Her act is my children's favourite. I didn't want him to think it had been stolen or lost."
"Arigato, Hiroshi-san. Think you can reserve a table for six people around eight tonight? I know it's short notice..."
"For you, nothing is a problem. I will see you then, Yuu-san."
Closing his phone, Heero frowned to himself. A female? It couldn't have been one of Quatre's sisters. Sakura knew them all. Couldn't have been a business lunch either. Shifting his attentions to Trowa, he nibbled his lip softly in thought. "Trowa? Catherine did come back with you, ne? I just got a call that Quatre left his wallet where they had lunch. Can you give her a call and ask if he's with her so he can pick it up?"
Trowa's shoulders rolled in a shrug as he rang her up, an inquisitive look on his face at the vauge upset in Heero's face. When her voice answered on the other end, his own concern showed through. His sister's voice sounded weaker than before, more frail as she gasped for breath. "Catherine? Are you all right?"
"Hai, I was just moving somethings from my tent, Trowa. Are you coming home? I think it might be best if we went back to L4. It's harder for me to breathe here..."
The Latino pilot paused before answering, warring thoughts registering in his mind. Her voice sounded wrong. This was the woman he spent more time with and around than any other. When she lied, her tone rose. He could almost see her playing with her hair as she did on the few occasions she tried to slip one past him. All of the tents had been taken down last night. Trowa had overseen it himself. None should have been standing for her to move anything out of. Straining for a jovial air, he laughed softly, "If you want, we can head back. We can't find Quatre though, and since we were back in town, I thought maybe he had dropped by the circus. Have you seen him?"
"No shoutei. I haven't seen Quatre since last time we were here, and he and the others came to the show. Gomen."
"All right. I'll be heading back soon, and we can start moving out. Just go lay down, okay?"
"Hai! See you then!"
Tapping the phone against his knee, Trowa's whole body felt sick down to his soul. She was lying on more than one count. She knew where Quatre was. Old conversations kept ringing in the halls of his memory, reminding him of times when she'd ask him if it wouldn't be better if Heero were dead and Quatre were back with him or if there was a chance that Quatre would leave Heero to come be with them. She'd always teased that he'd make sure a cute clown. "Oh Kami-sama... it's her. It's Catherine, Heero. We were in those places when it happened, but it wasn't me. She gets delusional at times. She says she hasn't seen him since last you all were at the circus."
All of them started for their vehicles, feeling the sands of time running out for them even as back at the circus, Catherine finished driving the last nails into the crate that held Quatre's body.