Gestalt 4

Sorry! Sorry. These last two weeks have been hell! 70 hour workweeks and jerky men and my car getting towed, crashed into, stolen, found and towed again... illegally. I'm not having a nervous breakdown yet, though so yay me eh?

Anyway I have a warning... lots of talking and philosophy and goooood lord I hope I don't confuse anyone too much. Will be anxious to hear what you have to say. This part is pretty long too.

Love Y'all!

Gestalt 4

By Caer

Trowa made his way through the underground tunnel into the psychiatric wing of the hospital. He was unaccompanied now, as he had acquired the necessary access card the day before. The recreation room was full of activity as the tall boy made his way through and though some of the patients looked on listlessly in a haze of forgetfulness, most of the people in the room were enjoying themselves in their various activities. One child, probably autistic was calculating some relatively intricate equations on an electronic math aid. A little girl with red hair and startling green eyes sat happily drawing a picture. Trowa stopped to scrutinize it as he recognized the subject matter… at least, he thought he did. The picture was that of a blond boy with blue eyes wearing black sweats. He was talking to a girl in white. The picture was very well done for a child so young. Though spatially a bit skewed, the detail was quite intricate. Trowa looked up and saw that the two subjects of the art were in fact, talking at the front desk. Quatre was standing straight, his hands folded loosely behind his back as he conversed in earnest with the short black haired receptionist across the desk.

Trowa was startled when the child looked up at him with big, sweet eyes. He tried not to stare at the ugly scar that ran down her forehead at a jagged angle and looked at the picture instead. Her eyes traveled from his eyes, to the picture and back again. She smiled.

"Tenshi!" She said in a soft sweet voice. Trowa smiled and nodded. When she turned back to the picture, he quickly started again toward the front desk, remembering the warning from the guard the day before.

As he made his way forward, the boy threw him an offhand glance, but continued to listen attentively to the distraught receptionist.

"I don't care how smart she is. I know she's our new manager, but she can't come waltzing in here and turn everything upside down."

"Mmm… This Dorlian girl is obviously trying to overcompensate for her youth. She's afraid you won't take her seriously."

"I don't care what the hell her issues are either Wufei. You don't stir things up in a fu… in an institution. The patients are delicate enough without an insecure ego running through the place, causing trouble."

"You don't think you're overreacting?"

"You'll know when I'm overreacting Dragon. There's going to be trouble if she keeps doing what she's doing and not listening to us."

"Unfortunately Hilde, I tend to agree. No good can come of this."

"What do you think we should do?"

The boy finally looked up and met Trowa's eyes. Trowa almost looked away, but kept still. The other's eyes moved over his, searchingly. They never strayed though he directed his next words at the nurse.

"Keep the patients out of the way until she settles in. I will help, but we will discuss it later. I have to go now. I have an appointment."

Trowa continued to meet the steady gaze, training his own features to show no emotion.

"Hello Wufei."

Hilde smiled at Trowa and winked. Then she turned back to the blond boy.

"Wufei, things could get ugly. She's trying to implement processes that we ignore for a reason. Eventually something is going to go wrong. You should watch out for yourself too."

Wufei nodded.

"Sometimes, Hilde, one must let things get worse in order to open the eyes of those who are blind. It's best to wait. Just try to keep the patients out of the way. Don't stir up trouble and get yourself written up."

Hilde sighed, playing with her phone cord listlessly.

"I guess you're right."

The boy turned to Trowa and gave a slight bow, gesturing down the hall toward his room.

"Shall we?"

Trowa nodded and they made their way back to the familiar room. They walked leisurely. Trowa's patient still walked tall, his hands behind his back in a state of deliberate unguarded ness.

"So, what theories have you come up with since our talk yesterday?"

"Sorry?"

"You've had some time to think about things. I'm curious to know what you've deduced from yesterday to now."

"You mean my theories about your condition."

"If you must call it that. Just because we are patients, does not mean we can't do our homework. Quatre may find it boring, but I'm fascinated by psychoanalytical theory. We might as well be honest with each other."

Trowa frowned. This boy was disturbingly rational. He tried to pull his thoughts together quickly as they strolled down the hall. Wufei could be so disquieting. He was extremely intelligent and though he didn't seem to, he had a way of going for your throat intellectually.

"Well… I haven't had time to form any solid theories yet, but I think that if Quatre is trying to compensate for any weaknesses he has, or thinks he has, it's his kindness."

"Ah, but Quatre would never see kindness as a weakness."

"Not consciously maybe. But in being kind, you hate to do certain things. He dislikes being judgmental of anyone. Though he knows what is right and what is wrong, he doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. You have the strength to make the judgements and not feel bad about it."

Wufei smiled indulgently.

"I see. Well that explains me I suppose, but what about Heero?"

They had come to the door now, but the boy waited for Trowa's answer before he made a move to let them inside. Trowa looked down in thought.

"I'm not quite sure about Heero yet, but I think it has to do with control. Taking control is always bound to create tension and confrontation. Heero represents the strength Quatre needs to be in command when it's needed."

Trowa looked up and saw an almost proud smile on the boy's lips.

"That's a more intelligent hypothesis than I have heard from most students who come through here. It's wrong of course. We are much more than that. Still, I'm impressed. Most student theories are, of course directed at Master Winner, but I have never heard someone use Quatre's kindness as the catalyst for a multiple personality disorder. Creative."

"You think I'm wrong?"

Again, an amused smile.

"Oh, we are the crazy ones. We cannot be our own psychoanalysts can we? Jobs would be lost. Ours is not to say. Ours is but to eat Jell-O and take our medication. As long as you believe without a doubt that we are crazy, we cannot convince you otherwise. The same goes for you though Trowa. Though we ask you to open your mind, ours remains closed upon the assumption that we are what we are and subsequently you cannot convince us otherwise. It is a Catch 22 in a way, as religion is to atheism. The only way you can transcend is to be overcome by the desire to be a part of something bigger."

At this, Wufei opened the door and motioned politely for Trowa to enter.

"I told you he liked to talk."

Trowa suddenly found gentle eyes looking back at him. He didn't even notice his own small smile, it came so fast at the sight. Quatre laughed and slung an arm casually around Trowa's waist, guiding the tall boy into the room before letting go and closing the door.

"You look so cute when you smile. It makes you look younger… not so sad."

Trowa would have had a retort for that comment but it was stopped fast by the condition of Quatre's room.

It was as it was the day before, with it's small round lounging table, the bookshelf with various books and appliances, the small one-person bed and the round mirror on the wall, but now, the formerly pristine white walls of the room were covered with palm sized black dots. Trowa stared.

"What's going on here?"

"You like it?" Quatre smiled. "It's for Maremeia. She's one of the little girls here. Her birthday is tomorrow so we're having a party for her in here. It was Wufei's idea. She adores him and he wanted to do something special for her. We were going to have it out in the activity room, but the new manager is kind of … um, strict, but Heero set up the camera's to hide everything. Meia will be so excited. Hilde's even bringing cake!"

Trowa moved closer to examine one of the dots.The shape was rather odd. It looked a lot like two hippos dancing.

"Quatre, these are…"

"Rorschach dots… I know." He laughed. "Our last analyst let us keep a set… but Maremeia likes 101 Dalmatians, so we decided to sacrifice them to the party. Wufei loved the idea… the irony. I just can't wait to see her face. I don't think she's ever had a birthday party…"

Quatre didn't speak for a moment and Trowa turned as he heard the smaller boy swallow. The blond was looking rather sad and Trowa felt pulled toward him. He moved close and put a hand on one shoulder.

"Quatre?"

Quatre looked up and smiled weakly.

"Sorry. Sometimes I feel bad about being here. I'm using it as an escape, but there are real patients who need real help. If I just did what my father wants and accepted my inheritance, I could use that money to help them, to help this hospital. The government doesn't care how they're treated. We can't even get money to fix the plumbing in the bathrooms, but all of the staff just got brand new cards. The money is being wasted on beurocracy and top-heavy management, while the patients eat sub-standard food and can barely get the help they need. I feel so selfish."

The blond said this with such disgust, Trowa started. This was the first real feeling of self-degradation from the boy. He spoke softly.

"You shouldn't. You… you're very kind Quatre. I believe in what you're doing. I think everyone does. Besides, you wouldn't know about them if you hadn't come. Once your father relents, you'll be able to help them."

Quatre looked up and into Trowa's eyes again. Only, this time, Trowa didn't feel so vulnerable. It felt comfortable now, to stare into the sparkling pools and Trowa stood entranced as they flickered and swirled, seeming to change fleetingly between Wufei's calm, to Heero's ferocity and back to Quatre's warmth and they seemed to blend together hypnotically until, suddenly Trowa felt himself being kissed. At first his eyes widened in shock, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't pull away, lost in the sensation of being touched so intimately until his own eyes closed of their own volition. Strong hands gripped his arms fiercely and pulled him closer, but lips were gentle and clever, moving over his, becoming light, then forceful, and then light again.

When they pulled away, they stared, their arms lingering, entwined together. Trowa suddenly felt ashamed. He had just taken advantage of a patient… well, the patient had in fact kissed him, but he had done nothing to prevent it. Quatre too, seemed suddenly embarrassed. He pulled away.

"I'm sorry Trowa."

"No… no. It was me. I should have stopped it."

The blond shook his head, bangs swaying prettily over the pale forehead.

"I shouldn't have pushed it. Even in other circumstances… it's too soon. I'm sorry."

"Quatre…"

Both boys stood, heads bowed as they tried to think of something to say to fix what had just happened. Quatre spoke first.

"Maybe we should work on your report."

"Yeah." Trowa sighed and looked up. "We should go out in the common area."

Quatre tried not to meet his eyes.

"Right."

* * * * *

"Do you daydream of fantasize a lot?"

Quatre smiled and played with a rubix cube he had grabbed on the way through the commons. The two were seated in armchairs at a small table. Quatre was relaxed and draped across the chair sideways as he played. Trowa on the other hand, was finding it difficult to sit up to ask his questions as he kept sinking into the comfortable chair. He finally relaxed and leaned back as he listened to the boy's answers, setting his book and paper in his lap so he could continue to take notes.

"I suppose so. I have a pretty healthy fantasy life."

"Do you often have nightmares?"

Quatre nodded. He kept his eyes on his rubix cube.

"Sure. Sometimes I have nightmares, but I never remember them. Heero holds me on nights like those. If I can't go back to sleep, Wufei and I talk all night. I think it's from stress… about my father. I'm afraid he'll find a way to get me out of here and force me to accept my inheritance."

"Do you hear voices?"

"Of course not."

Trowa looked up, a little worry in his eyes. He scanned what he could of the boys wrists hidden under the black sweatshirt.

"Do you ever try to hurt yourself?"

Quatre shook his head, sighed and swung his legs.

"No. Trowa? Why are you asking me these questions? You had to have read the last analysis. Do I have do go through this again?"

Trowa watched the uninterested teen twist the cube this way and that, trying to put the colors together. He sighed. This assignment was beginning to be a hindrance, now that he wanted to know Quatre as a friend… and so much more, but a friend at least.

"Quatre, I know it's boring, but this is part of my assignment. Besides, oftentimes your answers change as you remember certain things, or change your mind about what you're not sure about."

Quatre sighed, annoyed.

"No. I'm not suicidal. That's stupid. Wufei says it's cowardly. I tend to agree."

"So do I. Do you have a hard time making decisions?"

"Sometimes. I leave most of that to Wufei, but it's not like I'm terrified of it. I just prefer to leave it to someone else."

"Have you forgotten a lot of your childhood?"

"Not really. As much as anyone else I guess… well, that's not entirely true. I don't remember much about my mother's death. But I think any kid would block that out to some degree."

"Have you ever been abused as a child? Not by your father but anyone that you can remember? Sisters? Servants?"

"No. Not at all. I'm pretty sure I would remember that."

Trowa wrote down this answer and suddenly stopped. Quatre looked over and sat up.

"What?"

Trowa blushed a bit.

"Um… the next question is about your sex life, but if you've been here for two years, I guess I know the answer to that."

Quatre nodded.

"Wufei and Heero and I have been together for at least 3 years… as lovers I mean. We've been friends for so long."

Trowa blinked. Quatre smiled and continued to work the colorful cube.

"Um… what?"

Quatre looked over slyly.

"You heard me. We have been lovers for quite a while."

Trowa tried to wrap his head around that one and found that he wasn't sure what to say.

"But Quatre, that's not possible."

"Why not?" The blond looked at him innocently, but Trowa could see the searching within his eyes. He tried to choose his words carefully.

"But Quatre, they're not… Wufei and Heero are only facets of you. Surely you must understand what the hospital has you diagnosed with."

"Dissociative Identity Disorder" Quatre recited, rolling his eyes. "When a person perceives themselves, or are perceived by others as having two or more distinct and complex personalities. Trowa, I'm not an idiot. I told you. I'm using this to stay away from my father, but I don't accept the hospital's diagnosis. It's wrong."

"Quatre… Wufei and Heero aren't real."

The blond shot Trowa an angry look, before his eyes cleared to the calm and preying gaze that could only be Wufei's.

"You think I am not real Trowa?"

Trowa gulped. Now he felt guilty. It was crazy. Wufei looked at him knowingly. He spoke softly, but with a driven and disconcerting intensity.

"Perhaps you should examine yourself Trowa Barton… before you make blind assumptions about other people. Do you have fantasies?"

Trowa couldn't help but think of last night and tried not to blush.

"Of course I do. Everyone does."

"Do you have flashbacks and nightmares sometimes?"

Trowa glared, but couldn't maintain eye contact with those eyes that seemed to understand him so well. He looked down.

"Yes." He whispered.

He could glimpse the lounging boy in his peripheral vision and noted that although the eyes and body seemed calm, the boy's hands continued to work the rubix cube angrily. Wufei's voice continued to fill his ears though.

"Have you ever tried to kill yourself?"

Trowa nodded.

"Have you ever been abused as a child?"

Again, Trowa gulped and shook his head.

"Not really… but my parents abandoned me when I was 6."

Wufei nodded and leaned forward, putting a hand on Trowa's. The tall boy looked up, once again concentrating on not pulling his hand away. Wufei's eyes had become softer and somewhat apologetic.

"You're also loathe to touch people Trowa Barton. You've obviously been hurt before."

Trowa nodded. Wufei squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry that I brought up bad memories, but you see, you're just as hurt, if not more so by your own past than Quatre is by his. Heero and I have been his friends for a very long time. We have already explored what we are. The three of us are just as real as you are, and yes, we are lovers."

Trowa shook his head. None of this made sense. He was losing an argument with a figment of someone's imagination. He once again mustered his wits and tried to regain his ground in what was real and what was not.

"But Wufei, it's not reality. You're not real… you're a facet of Quatre's psyche. You seem real, but you're just a different part of him… the part that knows how to rationalize things and explain his fears. You can't be his lover."

"You're wrong." The reply came in a flat, disinterested tone. The passion that usually tinged Wufei's rich voice was now gone and Trowa looked up to see the wild and emotionless eyes of…

"Heero?" He asked tentatively.

"Hn."

"What do you mean, 'I'm wrong'?"

"Try looking at us with your own eyes, not everyone else's. Don't you trust your own emotions? You're trying to enforce us with beliefs that don't compute. They don't make sense for us. You say we're one person, but where's your proof?"

"Are you serious? You're only one body. Why else would there only be one bed?"

"No choice. You enforce rules on us based on your own beliefs. All we're trying to do is live within your constraints."

"Why?"

Heero continued blandly. By his body language, he would have looked bored, if not for the intensity in his eyes.

"There are more of you. It's pointless in our case to fight a popular opinion when we are outnumbered. Quatre hates to fight anyway, so we deal with it."

"But I can only see one of you."

Heero shrugged. "That's your problem. Do you believe everything you see?"

Trowa shook his head. "No."

"Haven't you talked to all three of us?"

"I…No."

A barely perceptible twitch in Heero's cheek was the only indication he was enjoying the conversation and its effect on the tall boy.

"And that is a view that you have enforced based on your own personal beliefs. You're not sure though. Someone else would have answered 'yes' just as easily. You almost did."

"I am talking to one person."

"And we are three people talking to you."

"You know that's not the truth."

Heero snorted.

"Truth. To someone else, God is truth, but to me it is their belief and not truth. That doesn't mean that it's not true. It's still true, but only for them. Understand?"

"I… I don't know." Trowa shook his head and sighed. He was losing this battle no matter which way he approached it. He had stopped writing. Now he simply doodled along the edge of the paper as he tried to rationalize his own perceptions. "But it isn't normal."

Heero raised an eyebrow.

"Who's to say what the 'norm' should be. What you call my fantasy, is completely my reality. Trowa, for all you know, you could be nothing but a brain trapped in a life-like virtual reality, being run by an intricately designed program. At some point, you have to assume that certain things are real in order to get on with your life. Otherwise, we would never get out of bed for all the questions. Is this bed real, or is it a figment of my imagination? Or perhaps, the bed is the only real thing, but if I leave it, I will be thrown into a dark abyss of the unknown if the floor is in fact, not real. If scientists had not 'assumed' that the atom was real, they never would have been able to make nuclear advances. Proof came later. That's why physicists can't make coffee."

"Why what?"

Heero waited a beat.

"They overanalyze. They can tell you the precise molecular make-up of the coffee and the parts of the machine, and probably the science behind heat and absorption, but try getting one of them to figure out how to fix it and they'll sit there and stare at the thing until someone feels sorry enough for them to make it themselves."

Trowa blinked. He blinked again. He spoke.

"That was a joke."

Heero's said nothing.

Trowa laughed out loud, nervously. It was one of the most absurd things he had heard and it was coming from Heero. The serious one. Heero watched him fondly as he laughed.

"Hn."

Trowa pressed his hand against his head in consternation. His thoughts were spinning and he couldn't organize them fast enough to refute with a plausible argument.

"Um… Where were we?"

"All I'm saying," Heero said "is that just because you don't see what we are, doesn't mean that you're not the one hallucinating."

Trowa sighed. "In other words, there is no such thing as reality."

"Exactly."

Heero smiled back. He threw the rubix cube to Trowa, who caught it, noting that it was complete. All the colors had been organized… but by whom, he wondered.

* * * *