Using an airlift, Catherine slid the coffin crate in with the others they were preparing to move. Exhaustion nipped at like a hungry dog, making her want to just lay down and rest. There simply wasn't time now. Never enough time. Soon this would all be over, and she could be back on L4. Trowa might protest at first, but he would see the genius of her plans when Quatre was laid in his arms. Then, she could relax in the warm sunlight of L4 with Quatre and Trowa, laughing over this whole foolish mess. They would be a family. They would be happy.
The fact that Quatre would lay sealed in an airless coffin for another week before they reached L4 was lost on her, never registering with her fevered mind. No food, no water, no air beyond what was in there. He would never make it.
Cutting down the last lines of the tent to fold it away with all the others, another coughing fit wracked her too thin body. Flecks of crimson dotted her hands and lips, lungs refusing to take in air as they should. Falling to her knees, more blood slipped from her lips, beginning to form a small puddle on the ground. Anger stirred to life within her, so close to reaching her goal to be struck down by sickness. The roar of car engines and then pounding feet came to her ears as everything began to spin down a dark tunnel. Falling to her side, her eyes rolled up to see Trowa holding her, brushing back the hair from her face gently. He was saying something, but he sounded distant, words barely caught with the loud thrumming in her ears. "What?"
So much blood. Crimson laid over Catherine's face, staining her mouth like obscene lipstick. Tears tried to cloud his eyes as he wiped at it, wanting to deny its existance. "Where is Quatre? What have you done to him?"
A beautific smile ran over the dying woman's lips as a trembling hand rose to stroke Trowa's face. Her voice was choked, rills of her over lifeblood coming up with each words. Glazy eyes strained to keep focused on her dear brother's. "Birthday present. Be all together on L4. Happy and together. All of us..."
Even as the last syllable left her lips, the light faded out of her eyes, leaving them dusty and dull marbled as death crept across and stole the life within. The body held i Trowa's arms slowly relaxed, all muscles releasing the tension that her disease had ravaged her with. Trowa's eyes slid closed as he gathered her closer to him, silent tears creeping into his eyes to soak into the fabric of her shirt. She had been a sick woman, not in control of herself. This wasn't the sister he had so dearly loved, not the one who had bandaged his scrapes when he was younger. Pulling off his jacket, he wrapped it around her body, emerald eyes still shattered as losing her swept across his psyche.
Heero's hand was the first to touch Trowa's shoulder. He pitied Trowa for losing his only family, but Quatre still burned in his mind. A darker part of him was glad Catherine was dead. It saved Heero from having to execute her himself. Just as no one had seen his Gundam and lived, no one hurt his lover and lived. Glancing into the inky pools of Wufei's eyes, he was vaugely surprised to see the expression that lingered there as well as he small nod the Chinese youth gave him. Justice had been done.
Duo helped Trowa to his feet, grasping the taller male in a tight embrace. "It's okay, Tro-man. We're here..."
Heero nodded slowly, his Prussian blue eyes bearing the same remote distance as they always held for the rest of humanity even as a hand rested on Trowa's shoulder. For a bare instant, that twilight sky stained gaze broke, showing a hint of caring beneath before resuming their icy seeming. "Trowa... Quatre..." he began softly.
Trowa rose slowly, his fingers sliding down Catherine's face to close her eyes, drawing his longcoat off and curling it about her body. Drawing the side of it up to cover her face, he refocused himself as best he could. She was gone, but Quatre was not, not yet anyways. Eyes shining with tears unshed moved over the barren circus grounds. Only one real structure remained, the one that was nothing more than a mobile warehouse for all the circus' tents, supplies, and assorted packs they carried. "There. She was out of breath on the phone. That's the only place he could be if he's here."
What went unsaid was that if he wasn't here... the places she could have dropped him dead or alive were endless. Pushing open the door to the temporary warehouse, all four of them stood in silent horror. All around them in what seemed to be endless rows were crates and boxes, nearly all of them big enough to hold the smallest Gundam pilot. It would take a week or more for all the Preventers to pry open lids and inspect each one, moreso for just the four of them.
"Kami-sama," Duo whispered.
-------------------
Quatre's eyes opened slowly, taking in the darkness about him. Coldness assulted his body, feeling as if he were laying in ice instead of within some softness curled around him. Trying to sit up, his body refused to acknowledge the command, the chilling weakness gone bone deep. Even raising a hand was nearly too much, surprise filting through shock as he encountered wood above him. Fingernails rasped on the inside of his coffin, kitten weak and barely making a sound within. "Heero," he whispered, his voice having no power either. Hand falling back to his side in exhaustion, Quatre's unfocused eyes closed once more. He couldn't breathe in here, the air tasting stale and old. Consciousness flittered in and out of his mind, his slow breaths all that he could hear in the perfect darkness encasing him.
The fact that Quatre would lay sealed in an airless coffin for another week before they reached L4 was lost on her, never registering with her fevered mind. No food, no water, no air beyond what was in there. He would never make it.
Cutting down the last lines of the tent to fold it away with all the others, another coughing fit wracked her too thin body. Flecks of crimson dotted her hands and lips, lungs refusing to take in air as they should. Falling to her knees, more blood slipped from her lips, beginning to form a small puddle on the ground. Anger stirred to life within her, so close to reaching her goal to be struck down by sickness. The roar of car engines and then pounding feet came to her ears as everything began to spin down a dark tunnel. Falling to her side, her eyes rolled up to see Trowa holding her, brushing back the hair from her face gently. He was saying something, but he sounded distant, words barely caught with the loud thrumming in her ears. "What?"
So much blood. Crimson laid over Catherine's face, staining her mouth like obscene lipstick. Tears tried to cloud his eyes as he wiped at it, wanting to deny its existance. "Where is Quatre? What have you done to him?"
A beautific smile ran over the dying woman's lips as a trembling hand rose to stroke Trowa's face. Her voice was choked, rills of her over lifeblood coming up with each words. Glazy eyes strained to keep focused on her dear brother's. "Birthday present. Be all together on L4. Happy and together. All of us..."
Even as the last syllable left her lips, the light faded out of her eyes, leaving them dusty and dull marbled as death crept across and stole the life within. The body held i Trowa's arms slowly relaxed, all muscles releasing the tension that her disease had ravaged her with. Trowa's eyes slid closed as he gathered her closer to him, silent tears creeping into his eyes to soak into the fabric of her shirt. She had been a sick woman, not in control of herself. This wasn't the sister he had so dearly loved, not the one who had bandaged his scrapes when he was younger. Pulling off his jacket, he wrapped it around her body, emerald eyes still shattered as losing her swept across his psyche.
Heero's hand was the first to touch Trowa's shoulder. He pitied Trowa for losing his only family, but Quatre still burned in his mind. A darker part of him was glad Catherine was dead. It saved Heero from having to execute her himself. Just as no one had seen his Gundam and lived, no one hurt his lover and lived. Glancing into the inky pools of Wufei's eyes, he was vaugely surprised to see the expression that lingered there as well as he small nod the Chinese youth gave him. Justice had been done.
Duo helped Trowa to his feet, grasping the taller male in a tight embrace. "It's okay, Tro-man. We're here..."
Heero nodded slowly, his Prussian blue eyes bearing the same remote distance as they always held for the rest of humanity even as a hand rested on Trowa's shoulder. For a bare instant, that twilight sky stained gaze broke, showing a hint of caring beneath before resuming their icy seeming. "Trowa... Quatre..." he began softly.
Trowa rose slowly, his fingers sliding down Catherine's face to close her eyes, drawing his longcoat off and curling it about her body. Drawing the side of it up to cover her face, he refocused himself as best he could. She was gone, but Quatre was not, not yet anyways. Eyes shining with tears unshed moved over the barren circus grounds. Only one real structure remained, the one that was nothing more than a mobile warehouse for all the circus' tents, supplies, and assorted packs they carried. "There. She was out of breath on the phone. That's the only place he could be if he's here."
What went unsaid was that if he wasn't here... the places she could have dropped him dead or alive were endless. Pushing open the door to the temporary warehouse, all four of them stood in silent horror. All around them in what seemed to be endless rows were crates and boxes, nearly all of them big enough to hold the smallest Gundam pilot. It would take a week or more for all the Preventers to pry open lids and inspect each one, moreso for just the four of them.
"Kami-sama," Duo whispered.
-------------------
Quatre's eyes opened slowly, taking in the darkness about him. Coldness assulted his body, feeling as if he were laying in ice instead of within some softness curled around him. Trying to sit up, his body refused to acknowledge the command, the chilling weakness gone bone deep. Even raising a hand was nearly too much, surprise filting through shock as he encountered wood above him. Fingernails rasped on the inside of his coffin, kitten weak and barely making a sound within. "Heero," he whispered, his voice having no power either. Hand falling back to his side in exhaustion, Quatre's unfocused eyes closed once more. He couldn't breathe in here, the air tasting stale and old. Consciousness flittered in and out of his mind, his slow breaths all that he could hear in the perfect darkness encasing him.