Hi all. Finally huh? Thanks so much for your patience. Like I said, things have been bad, but I'm getting my writing feet back now. Thank you for all the amazing wonderful support you've all given me. This thing is closing on the end. I'm thinking 2 more chapters should do it… maybe one.
Thanks also for pointing out some of those yucky mistakes where I used a character twice accidentally. I'll eventually go back and fix that.
I hope that you enjoy. Again, thank you thank you.
Gestalt 10
One wouldn't think that the incongruent smell of popcorn and coffee would be a welcome sensation to experience, but to Trowa, it was the smell of home. It is amazing how something as subtle as smell can bring back the most vivid memories. Since the time he had been adopted, this was what he woke up to. The routine had been comfortable and wonderful. Trowa remembered waking up just a bit after Catherine and a bit before his father and sitting cross-legged on the worn but clean Formica counter watching morning cartoons and eating a bowl of whatever Catherine had left for him before heading out to join the others. Mornings were always spent training with Rashid. There was always fresh coffee brewing in the main tent and Rashid always let Trowa have a cup, even when his over protective older sister complained that it would stunt his growth. The 'pop pop' sound of the popcorn popper in the background, creating the homey feeling of a circus like the 'pop pop' of a fire in the fireplace would in a regular home.
Trowa would practice his routines for two hours before going to help feed the animals and clean the stalls. After the performance, he and Cathy were sequestered to study. That was the schedule most of the year around. From the time he was 8, to the day he left for college.
Now, Trowa stood in the crisp morning air under the ancient wooden entrance that towered over his view of the only place he ever called home. The sign had been in the circus longer than he had. Layer after layer of new paint had transformed this sign to stay with the times, but underneath, sewn into the cracks and nicks of the mottled, aged wood was the embodiment of spirit that contained this strange family of freaks and vagabonds. The sign was old and rickety. Even under it's bright layer of shellac, it looked as if it could fall apart at the slightest disturbance. Only someone who had touched it knew the strength it held.
Trowa shrugged some of the tension of school from his shoulders and surged forward, past the entrance and into his old life.
"Trowa!"
A shrill, but pretty voice chimed out, causing some of the animals to voice their own greetings in the back. Trowa was hit with a bundle of female energy in a purple dress forcing him to step back a couple of feet before he regained his balance.
"Hello Cathy." He smiled gently, holding her quietly and kissing her on the cheek. She bounced in his arms.
"I'm so glad to see you!" She made loud smooching noises as she kissed the top of his head, causing him to laugh a little.
"Trowa!" Another deeper voice now, goofy and definitely male. Trowa tried to see past the energetic bundle of sister to see Abdul and get away but he was too late. Strong arms wrapped them both in a death grip. As usual, one hand managed to find it's way to his behind. Trowa gasped and shoved his sister into the taller man's arms, taking a step back.
"Do you have to do that?"
Abdul set Catherine down and grinned. He picked up his fallen sunglasses and placed them back on his head.
"It's good to see you man… and yes, I must. Someone has to do it. Why waste such a beautiful ass?"
"You haven't changed." Trowa was in full blush now and his toes had become unfathomably interesting. He was saved from having to stand up to that comment by a small hand on his elbow, guiding him to the family trailer.
"What ever." She retorted, taking Trowa's arm. "Go eat with the animals Abdul. I'm taking my brother for some catch up."
Trowa, still in shock, felt himself pulled away.
~
He now stared into a steaming cup of coffee, his reflection muddied and dark in the brown surface.
"You look a little pale. Your not sick are you?"
Cathy was fixing some breakfast before practice. She had changed into her work overalls now, the purple outfit peeking out from the denim. He shook his head.
"I'm all right. I just didn't get much sleep."
"Is it about that dream again?"
Trowa closed his eyes and briefly debated telling his sister what had happened with Quatre the night before… much worse than a dream, rather, a rude awakening from one.
"Yeah." He said softly, tipping the cup, breaking up his image on the smooth surface and taking a swig of the thick stuff. "Nothing new." He would need some time to sort things out.
Cathy stayed silent, stirring the oatmeal and pouring the raisins in.
"Cath?"
"Yes?"
"I…" He looked up. "How much have you paid for my tuition?"
She grinned. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." Turning and winking, she saw Trowa smile, but it didn't stay and his mouth resumed the same grim line he had held all morning. "It's a lot Trowa, but we've planned for it. Father has always kept funds for us for college. He was glad that you actually wanted to go since I wasn't into it."
"It's just…" He swallowed. "I think I want to come home."
Cathy tensed. This was big. This was stressful. Cathy could now see the tension in Trowa's shoulders as he looked into his coffee.
"You mean not finish college?"
Trowa nodded and silence ensued, both still, both thinking their separate thoughts. But Trowa found himself fidgeting as the silence grew heavy. He licked his lips.
"I… I'm having problems Cathy. I just don't want to do it anymore."
More silence.
"Wow."
Trowa took a gulp of the hot coffee, feeling the hot liquid punish his throat, almost hot enough to burn it… almost.
"Are you sure Trowa?"
"Well, no, not entirely."
"Are you failing your classes?"
"No."
"Do you want to change majors?"
"No."
"Then what's going on?"
She sat down at the table, dishing the oatmeal into each of their bowls. Trowa switched from nervously drinking his coffee to nervously spooning the hot cereal. He could feel Catherine's gaze cutting into the top of his head so he looked up and met it head on.
"I want to come home, that's all. I went to college because I wanted to prove something."
"Prove? Prove what?"
He looked down to gather the raisins into one neat pile. What was he trying to prove anyway?
"I don't know… that I could be more than just a circus hand? That I could just as easily be one of the snobs who comes through the fair every day as they can. It's stupid I know."
"They're not all snobs Trowa."
"No. You're right. But so many of them are. So many of them can't see past their own success and their own egos to realize that they aren't better than anyone. So I wanted to prove that I could be better than any of them. In doing so I've just ended up shooting myself in the foot."
The oatmeal cooled, forgotten on the table and Trowa crossed his arms and looked into his sister's eyes. "Look at me Cathy. I'm not happy. I haven't been happy for over a year. I'm stressed, I'm tired and I'm lonelier in a school full of people than I ever was here. I belong here. I want to come home."
"You don't even want to finish out the semester?"
"What good would it do me? I'll never use it."
"You might go back sometime."
Trowa set the spoon down, not hungry at all.
"You don't want me to quit?"
A hand on his.
"I just don't want you to regret your decision. I'll admit, I don't want to see the money wasted."
"I understand."
"Trowa look at me."
He looked up to see his sister smile, though it was a bit pained.
"I'm sorry. Before dad died, he put aside money for us to pay for things like school and emergencies. I don't want to see it wasted. I don't want to disrespect his memory."
Trowa closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry."
A tug on his hand.
"I'm not done yet." She said. "What he always wanted for you more than anything else is a happier life Trowa. You went through so much. If you decide that you need to quit school then you have to. It's not a waste. Not really. You got an education didn't you? I just think that you should give it some more thought before you just up and leave."
He nodded, letting out a sigh.
"We'll be moving to a new city soon. Even if you take a while you can always fly to where we are. Just… think about it a little?"
Trowa nodded and Catherine got up to pour the cold oatmeal out. She turned and grinned.
"Poptarts instead?"
* * *
The next few hours were spent practicing the routine. For being away for so long, Trowa eased back into it without much trouble. The added tension from school seemed to affect him most when Catherine threw her knives. He almost flinched a couple of times and found that when they were done, he had a mother of a headache and a cut on the temple but not much else. Catherine didn't take it too lightly but the lecture was gentle. The only thing he stayed away from was the trapeze. He knew he wasn't stretched enough for that so they decided not to take any chances. He was not worried so much about missing, but about pulling an untrained muscle.
The sweat was good. The hard work was good. The exercise and the comforting environment began to work the kinks out of Trowa's shoulders and by mid afternoon, he was ready for the evening show.
He stood at the corrals and watched as the crowds rolled in for the afternoon opening. Already the exhilaration was seeping into him… the energy of the crowd boosting his own energy and practically making his hair stand on end. He viewed it quietly, feeling content to some extent and able to drop all thoughts of his other life he had been living. The smells, sights and sounds took his memory back to younger times and older feelings. It was a déjà vu of a sort. A collection of sensory perceptions suddenly sending you to another time when you were younger, different, and bringing back times gone by and suddenly, for a few moments, you're that other person. You're the person you once were and as the feeling fades it leaves you with memories and feelings to feast upon until they once again fade into the past.
A touch on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie and as he looked back, he saw, not a hand, but the rough, wet gray nose of Angharad, the only female African elephant they possessed. The lips of her trunk clutched at his thin shoulder and he turned and leaned into her mass, rubbing the great neck.
"It's good to see you too." He sighed. Angharad's great trunk wrapped around his waist lovingly. "What am I going to do? I'm pathetic. I can't even figure out what I want."
The 30-year-old girl pushed Trowa away and began to attack him with her trunk, mussing his hair and getting her wet nose on his face before questing to his pockets for the treats she wanted. He laughed.
"Hey! Stop that!" He tried to push her away but her deft trunk squiggled its way back to play with him.
"Well now I'm jealous!"
Trowa turned to see Abdul sauntering up, clad in his evening costume of baggy drawstring cotton black pants and an open purple glittered vest completed by a matching fez. He grinned as he approached.
"Trowa is that an elephants trunk in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?" He winked from behind his low sitting sunglasses.
Trowa knew he was turning red as he pulled the playful girls snout out of his pocket. He turned and gave her the pumpkin slices he had brought.
"All right, all right." He groaned, turning and petting her, not facing his companion for a minute, trying to compose himself.
"Hey Abdul." He turned. Abdul just stood there smiling.
"Hey Trowa. I'm sorry, I was only teasing."
"It's all right. Don't you have a show soon?"
"Sure I do, but you don't look so together you know? Thought maybe you needed someone else to talk to besides your sister."
Trowa nodded. Pestering as he was, Abdul was one of their better friends. Though he had only been with the circus for a couple of years, he was with them when father had passed away, and he had always been supportive.
"I'm thinking of coming back, you know? Leaving school. Now possibly. I just found that…"
"You don't belong?"
Trowa's eyes widened, he nodded faintly.
"Join the club man. I got my BA in sociology before I decided I liked entertaining and working with my hands better. One thing it taught me about people… I don't like being around them, you know… living in the system, the crowds, and the cliques. So I ended up finding my family here. I mesh better with the outcasts, loners and hermits I guess."
"Yeah." Trowa nodded, absently stroking Angharad's trunk as he listened.
"Besides, I'm better at pain and flexibility than towing the yuppie line right? Not everyone was meant to live with society. Some of us need to stay the hell away because it'll eat us alive otherwise. Being a freak isn't necessarily a bad thing."
Trowa smiled. "No, it isn't."
"So? Come back to us." Abdul reached up and nudged Trowa's chin. "Unless you have something keeping you there."
Trowa looked to the side, following the nudging motion, thinking on Quatre. "Maybe." He replied.
Abdul looked down, kicking the dust a bit.
"Look Trowa. I have my own reasons for wanting you back. Fact is I'm pretty damned attracted to you and I'd bend over backwards to get you to come out to dinner with me sometime." He laughed self-consciously.
Now he turned away as Trowa looked up.
"But you need to listen to your sister," Abdul continued, "and think long and hard before you do anything drastic." He put a hand on either one of his shoulders. "Just know that I'll be here with flowers and a reservation if you're interested. No pressure huh? Just something else to think about."
Trowa nodded and Abdul lightened his grip a little, donning an imploring look.
"Would you let me kiss you Trowa?"
Trowa backed up slightly, running into a large mass of elephant and pulling out of Abdul's grip at the same time. He saw a flash of hurt in the older man's eyes. Steeling himself, he grabbed his wrist.
"It's ok Abdul. You can kiss me if you want."
His dark eyes brightened and he chuckled, leaning forward. Trowa steeled himself and closed his eyes. A light gentle kiss on the cheek is what he got and as Abdul backed away and held his hands, Trowa smiled. The other man smiled back and then jerked to look at his watch.
"Aw damnit, I'm late!" And with that, Trowa was left in the dimming light with a very jealous elephant, who proceeded to search the brunette for more treats.
* * *
One thin wire, shaking and pliant, liable to roll one way or the other without the strongest concentration split the world in two as Trowa deftly made his way across. One foot after the other, his muscles instantly adjusting to every compromise of balance, his focus completely attuned to the wire… nothing else. The crowd beneath him sat in silent awe as he glided, netless across the vast expanse of space. Perilous as it was, this could be peace. Everything was separated from you. The focus that was so important also helped the mind find a state of calm rarely available in the fast track college life Trowa had set out to conquer. He had not felt this much peace since he had left the circus. This was home. This was where his peace was. Why he had ever left, he had no idea.
The wire split the world in half beneath him.
On one side, the path to the bus stop waited to take him back to his so far relatively successful academic life with his few casual friends and his own apartment and space, small as it was.
On the other side was his little old trailer, with its old memories, some good, some bad, his career as a performer, also potentially successful.
On one side was a city full of people, teeming and screaming and numerous, a bunch of people his age, most of whom were more vapid than is healthy for a person, the stars among them rarely shining.
On the other side, was a rag tag group of people who all had seen more of life than the average citizen, who kept the screaming crowd at ringside distance. The living was poor and cramped and fraught with hard work.
On one side was a chance for an easy life with a steady job that didn't involve mucking out stalls and building and performing almost every day, putting your heart and soul and life on the line for crowds who needed to be thrilled.
On the other side was a life full of dancing and singing and old friends, where people were more real and everyone cared about their skills and professions, where there weren't huge worries about mortgages and credit and what gadget was needed next to make life complete.
Of course, if he rejoined the circus, there would be little time to visit Quatre.
The last incident had left Trowa feeling shattered. For the past three days, he had built this poor afflicted boy into some kind of anomaly. He had actually started to believe that Heero, Wufei and Quatre were three different people… that Quatre's reality was the reality.. However, it wasn't. Last night had shown him that. Quatre was not the enigma he had built himself up to be. He was just a boy who had lost it. He needed professional help, which he was probably already getting. Quatre had opened to him quite a bit though. Maybe he could help in that way.
But he couldn't continue this charade with the boy. Quatre wanted him to buy into his world and Trowa had actually gone along with it. Probably the blondes ESP made it easy. Where Trowa had seen uncanny understanding, there had just been empathy and the ability to manipulate his emotions. Yes, he was a remarkable boy, but he wasn't anything special or otherworldly. He was a sick kid who had somehow been abused by his mother. He was suffering and trying to pull others into his fantasy world so he would be less alone. God, now it was obvious. Trowa had fallen for it though, fallen completely.
Once again he had been manipulated into caring for someone. It had worked. He cared very much for the blond in that hospital, whether he had been played or not. It was time to face reality though. They could never have a relationship anyway unless Quatre could come out of his neurosis, and for now, it looked like he had no wish to. They could keep in touch and Trowa would visit whenever he could. Maybe he could help find out what happened between Quatre and his mother.
This was best. This was the way it had to be. He would return to the circus. He would return home. Tomorrow, he would spend one last day with Quatre Raberba Winner to say goodbye.
With that last thought, Trowa's foot lost grip on the wire and he found himself plummeting toward the ground below.