THE JOURNAL

Chapter 3

By:  BadMomma

Helena's thoughts

Journal entry:  11.19.AC214

 . . . this time I cannot return . . .

I need to know why.  Why 'this time', what was different about this mission that would keep him from returning?  What would make him never come back.  What was it about him that made mom so sure he wouldn't return. Duo may not have the answers but he should at least be able to help me start to figure it out.  Now I'll probably have to wait until tomorrow before I can ask, after we arrive we're going straight to pick the kids up and will most likely stay for dinner at her parents' house.  Once we get to their place there will be kids to get to bed and unpacking to do, while I'm glad for mom and the others that Hilde came with him it's really thrown a wrench in my plans.

The shuttle should be arriving at the colony pretty soon, they've both been sleeping for a good couple of hours already. We all stayed up pretty late last night. They look so cute snuggled together like two pieces of a puzzle there in the bench across from me.  His right arm around her back, her head on his shoulder with her nose tucked into the nook between his collar bone and neck.  Her right hand in his left, with their fingers entwined. He'd leaned his head gently on hers when she first dozed off to nuzzle and kiss her forehead and that's just how he'd fallen asleep.  Every once in a while one of them shifts a little but they never separate, their bodies never part.  I'm dead tired, but too anxious to fall asleep.  I knew we'd be traveling back in one of the privacy suites on the shuttle and had counted on talking to him all the way, but now we'll be arriving on L2 within the hour and I haven't had the chance. I've been rereading a lot her journals just trying to piece it together, but there are no indications whatsoever that could explain his disappearance. Father what am I missing?

Journal Entry:  11.22.AC214

It's almost 1 o'clock in the morning and everyone else is in bed now.  I've been so busy since we got here that I haven't had a chance to think or write, but after today I definitely need to do both.  Writing will help me think, and thinking will help me decide what I need to do next. I'm so wired right now that even if I wanted to I don't think I could sleep, I'll have several hours to digest what he told me. At least I have one question answered. But now I have so many more and I wonder if I can forgive him? I guess I'll have to, he seemed genuinely sorry that he hadn't told her, hadn't told mom that my father was with him. But what about the others, oh God, help me have I been blind and stupid or have they been deceiving me all this time?

Hilde wanted to go to dinner at this restaurant that opened up recently so she made reservations for us this afternoon, we had a table for six (we were taking the kids) at 7pm.  That would give me more than enough time, I had made arrangements to meet Trowa at 4pm at a park just a few blocks away from the restaurant, I convinced Duo that if he dropped me off for my meeting, I'd make my way to dinner without fail.  He didn't seem too happy about my walking there on my own, but I reminded him that there'd still be daylight and that I could take care of myself.  He reluctantly agreed.  Thank god!

Duo had something to pick up at the port, so he dropped me off at the park a few minutes early and pointed me in the direction of my meeting place with Trowa.  He had offered to walk me there and wait until he showed up, but I wanted those few minutes to get my thoughts together and plan out the order that I would ask my questions.  I had some specific questions to ask this time around.  As I crossed the pleasant little footbridge over the last creek between me and our meeting place I noticed he was already there.  He was sitting on the bench next to a small memorial for the civilians who'd lost their lives in the Eve Wars, his arms folded across his chest, legs casually crossed at the knee, with his chin to his chest. Had he been sleeping or just thinking.  As I came closer I noticed for the first time what a handsome man he was.  Really they all kind of were, older but very handsome – or maybe attractive - yes that's more like it, attractive, like human magnets. I don't know why it struck me just then, this amazingly strong presence in the midst of all that nature, maybe that was it.

I called his name out when I was just a couple of meters away, he rose swiftly and gracefully, extending a hand out to me and inviting me to join him on the bench.  He politely asked about everyone back home, about Duo, Hilde and the kids, just pleasantries. It's a good thing too because I was still stuck on my previous thought and had proceeded to mentally catalog his physical appearance.  He was tall, he had wide muscular shoulders that seemed to be accentuated by the white-linen shirt that fell over him like a breeze.  He had strong, gentle looking hands with slim long fingers that hung gracefully off the end of the arm he'd placed on the back of the bench. He sat upright but not rigid, his posture casual and open.  His eyes, one barely visible behind the famous bangs in his face, not quite looking at me, but holding my attention. I noticed he had stopped speaking and the bluntness of my question startled even me.  "Why is it that you and mom don't really get along?"

I had figured out that Trowa's sporadic visits to the estate had completely stopped within months of my father's disappearance.  Even though his circus troop had traveled to neighboring countries over the years, he'd never come to see us again. He cleared his throat then answered as bluntly as I had asked.  "I'd lied to her, by omission, didn't think she'd want to see me."

He'd lied. Everyone lies at some point in time, how could that be enough to cause such discord.  I turned to face him waiting for him to continue, he looked me straight in the eyes this time and said "I need to give you some background first."

He told me he'd grown up pretty much alone, no family and no friends, a soldier for as long as he remembered. Then there were the wars.  Quatre was the first Gundam pilot he'd met and befriended, but he hadn't stayed with him long because he didn't know what it meant to have or be a friend. It wasn't his way. Just after that was when he met my father.  Unbeknownst to each other, they had all received the same new mission, but it had been a trap and Oz used the threat of destroying a colony as a bargaining chip to get them to surrender.  That was when my father attempted to destroy his Gundam, and almost killed himself in the process.  Trowa had been so moved by father's selfless act that he recovered the near-lifeless body and nursed him back to health. He says that over the course of the next few months he learned what friendship was all about.  Not that he and father had gotten chummy he explained, they were a lot alike, very quiet and always serious. What was it he said they were, I almost laughed out loud,  oh yeah . . . 'Men of few words'. They conducted conversations involving three-word sentences Catherine had apparently pointed out. As father felt better he'd helped out at the circus, people often came and went so no one had questioned his being there.  Then the time came for them to move on. Father needed to contact the family of a man he had inadvertently killed in battle and Trowa was going to help him.  In their time together Trowa said he learned the importance of personal conviction, of acting on your ideals, and to do that he would have to open himself to feel things. It was one of the most important lessons of his life and it had taken him fifteen years to realize it, it would take him longer to live it. He owed my father a debt of gratitude he didn't think he could ever repay. They'd parted company shortly after that, after some ludicrous fight between my father and my uncle. I'll have to ask Milliardo about it, he obviously knows much more than he's said

They later met again in space, Trowa had infiltrated OZ and father had allowed himself to be captured for reasons I didn't quite understand. But during that period, Trowa became even more indebted to my father than he had thought possible. In a mobile suit battle against Quatre, who'd obviously had a nervous breakdown of some sort, father deflected Quatre's attention long enough to keep him from killing Trowa.  While the battle left him badly injured and amnesic, father had saved his life. He'd eventually recovered his memories with the help of something called the Zero System guess I have some more digging to do and eventually they fought together again to end that conflict.

In the years that followed the wars, father had occasionally spent time with him at the circus during his cleansing periods. Since the circus traveled it wasn't inconceivable that their paths would one day cross.  The first time it had happened accidentally, he had spotted my father walking down the street and had followed him to a shabby hotel, after a time he convinced father to go back with him to the circus. If all he needed was a place to stay for a few days, the circus was inconspicuous enough.  They developed a plan by which Trowa would let him know where they'd be performing, if it coincided with the location of one of the missions, father would contact him and join the troop for a while.  It was as good a cover as any for father's movements and it would serve another purpose; it would be a way for Trowa to repay his debt, and it never hurt to have someone watch your back. No one was to know; not mom, not the Preventers, not even the other pilots, it would jeopardize the missions. Trowa would continue to receive his assignments, mostly data gathering, and no one would be the wiser. I knew he was still involved It had worked out fine for a few years and then in AC201 it all changed. 

Father had just returned from his assignment, "he didn't seem quite himself" Trowa said.  He didn't eat and almost entirely stopped sleeping, pure physical exhaustion became the only exception. Trowa tried to coax the information out of him but all father would say was that he'd screwed up, bad.  The mission itself had not failed, Trowa was able to hack that much out of the Preventers' database, which meant something else had gone wrong.  My father refused to tell him and try as he might Trowa couldn't dig up any indications of collateral damage.  All he knew was that father was becoming more and more disconsolate, and before he realized it a month had passed since the end of the mission.  Trowa knew that my father always went home after two weeks and he knew that mom would be worried sick; but he had promised not to let anyone know.  He couldn't violate that trust, "Heero Yuy had been my closest friend for years", a steeliness had crept into his eyes as he continued, "we never questioned each other's actions or motives".  He had to believe that father had his reasons and that things would resolve themselves in short order. He'd heard that mom was looking for him and he had purposely avoided contact with the others; he knew he wouldn't be able to avoid them forever but he held out hope that it would be long enough for my father to get it together.

Another week or two passed, the troop was getting ready to move on to their next location and father began to come around. He still hadn't told Trowa what happened, but he appeared to be getting ready to go home.  He would disappear for a couple of hours at a time, Trowa had assumed it was to prepare his return so he let him be. Then one day he saw father emerging from the administration trailer, he only ever went there to use the computer, which was a sure sign of his departure.  When father didn't say anything, Trowa decided to try retracing the transmission, but he was no match for Heero Yuy.  My father had covered his tracks completely and within a day he was gone.  All he left was a brief note scribbled on a napkin, 'Good-bye Trowa. Thank you'.

. . . Tell the others not to look for me . . .

He paused a few minutes, I don't know if he was trying to figure out what to say next or if the sheer volume of what he'd just said had tired him. He probably hadn't said that much since the last time he'd spoken to me. It was probably even more than he'd said in all the time that had passed between our two meetings. I began to get restless, it was impossible to guess from the look on his face what would happen next.  I still had questions and this conversation was nowhere near over. And then it hit like a tidal wave crashing into me, more genuine and sincere sorrow than I had ever felt in my life. "I'm so sorry, for you and for Relena, if I had known what he had in mind I might have acted differently." The admission of guilt hung between us like a black hole.  "It wasn't until a few months later when Wufei tracked me down that I realized what he had done, and by then it was too late to change anything.  I thought he had returned home and since no one knew he'd been here, I never inquired. I had continued leaving him messages as to our whereabouts, just like before, expecting that he would contact me when the need arose. I guess he knew I would never betray him."

He sighed and turned his head away from me, shaking it ever so slightly, anger and frustration directed at himself evident in his next words. "I can never imagine the pain of abandonment you both must feel, but I know the loneliness all too well.  It's my fault you don't know your father and I wouldn't blame you if you hated me, I know your mother must. I thought he had changed, I thought the two of you had given him a reason to change.  We have all, one way or another, made peace with our pasts.  I am so sorry, so, so sorry." Trowa radiated anger and self-loathing, strangely mixed with profound sorrow. We sat silently for a while.  Maybe there wasn't much more to say, in his eyes he had committed a grievous sin and nothing I could say would change that.  Not that I was sure I wanted to, was it really that simple, he had betrayed a mother and daughter to honor the trust of a friend. Thoughts began to coalesce in my head, what was it he had just said, they'd 'made peace with their pasts', 'he had changed', we'd given him 'reason to change', 'change'. 

"Changed?"  I had said it out loud because he looked at me funny and said "I don't understand". I collected myself and repeated, "Changed what Trowa? You said you thought he had CHANGED, that we would have been reason enough for him to change.  Change what Trowa?" I said it again, why didn't he understand what I was asking?  It was a simple enough question! Again he just shook his head at me and said "I don't know what you mean, I'm sorry" I was about to burst. This man could not be that dumb, what exactly did he not understand? "Change, change, change!" I repeated growing angrier as I spit the words at him, "why did you say THAT, what did you mean you thought he had changed" he just continued staring at me. "What was it about him BEFORE – and before WHAT for God's sake – that he would have had to change.  You were all soldiers, you all did what you had to do. Death and destruction, I understand.  War is hell, I understand.  No, I've never experienced it personally but that's only because you saw to that.  He was no different than anyone else was he; he was just a soldier, a soldier like any other on the battlefield.  No better, no worse, just another soldier.  It's not like he single handedly won the war. You guys had the Gundams and that gave you all an advantage, but it gave all of you the same advantage.  You, Duo, Quatre, Wufei, my father, you were all exactly the same! Duo's always been a goofball, Quatre's always been sweet, Wufei's always been rigid, and you, well you've always been silent so I've been told.  So what WAS he that you no longer thought he was?" My frustrations had loosed a tirade the likes of which I'd never experienced before, I had just unloaded a year and half worth of accumulated frustrations on a man I hardly knew.  I don't know if I had been whispering or yelling, but my head was swimming and I put my head in my hands, elbows on my knees to try to steady the turbulence within when he finally spoke again. 

"Ruthless."

. . . maybe I'm not good for you . . .

I didn't know how to react, it was as if my mind could not comprehend the word he'd just spoken. The turbulence was still there only now I couldn't breathe, I couldn't take much more of this. Images of my father popped into my head, his beautiful loving face, his gentle smile looking down at me, his overwhelming passion for my mother. Those images and that word did not compute. I felt dizzy, nauseous. He was speaking again, ". . . were not the same at all, he was better than the rest of us.  He had been MADE that way.  His training had made him ruthless.  He would have given his life to accomplish a mission, that was really all that mattered to him.  He would do whatever it took to get the job done, and if it meant risking his life or someone else's he would have done it anyway". God, I wanted him to stop talking, I still hadn't recovered from my own rant and his response was more than I could handle. But it kept coming so I put my hand up to his mouth, just to make the words cease. He stopped. I welcomed the silence like an addict welcomes their next fix. When my breathing evened out again and the haze began to clear I looked at him again, he had an understanding gaze, "I'm sorry, of course no one would have told you." He reached out and took my hands in his, so warm and gentle. He was looking at them intently as if focusing on anything but my face would make it easier for me.

Then he continued, "Your father was trained to put his mission objectives above everything, including his own life.  It was the only way he knew to live, he was an exemplary soldier.  There was only one way to end the trouble and that required him to hold nothing back, the destruction of OZ and the cessation of hostility between the earth and the colonies was paramount.  He wasn't a bad man, but he sought his goal with such calculated, ruthless fervor that he appeared more machine than man sometimes.  I knew he was human, I'd seen him bleed, I'd seen the regret in his eyes when he'd made a mistake, and the determination to see that your mother survived the conflict so she could achieve what was her goal, complete peace.  The years passed and he had put away his ruthlessness, he'd allowed his humanity to rise up, he had loved your mother with the same kind of zeal that he had fought with, the same dedication. He was still an accomplished soldier so he put his skills to good use first protecting your mother and then working for the Preventers. But every fiber of his body was committed to her and renewed by her love.  To this day I still don't know the exact reason why he left you. I think he must have done it because he was convinced of one of two things; either he believed he was a danger to you or he believed he had betrayed his humanity."

Silence passed between us and I sat there trying to soak in all he had said when a bell tower somewhere brought me back to the present.  There was no more time to talk, not that I could have handled any more information, Hilde and Duo would be waiting for me at the restaurant and I had to go. I stood and felt him grab my hand as I turned to leave.  He gently squeezed it and looked silently at me, sorrow and regret in his gaze. I nodded and walked away. I turned back to him as I reached the mouth of the creek and echoed my father's words  "Goodbye Trowa, thank you."  He nodded and watched me cross the bridge. I looked back one last time to see if he was still there raising my hand to wave a last goodbye, but he wasn't looking at me. His face was turned towards the memorial.  He seemed to nod or shake his head.Was he talking to someone? Then I saw him stand, shake his head again and walk away in the other direction, his hands in his pockets. There was nothing where Trowa had been looking so I ran off without further delay. I was already late for dinner.

Duo was standing outside the restaurant with his hands on his hips looking like he was going to chew me out for being late.  It was almost 7:30.  He met me half way down the block and started to ask where the hell I'd been when I looked up at him.  I guess I hadn't regained my composure as well as I thought because he stopped mid-sentence.  His mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but instead just put an arm around my shoulder and walked me to the door. As we stepped inside, he leaned over and asked if I'd prefer to go home, he offered to make some excuse to Hilde, but I declined.  I put on my best face and we proceeded to where Hilde and the kids were sitting.  Dinner seemed to drag on forever, all the while I did my best to act as if everything was right-as-rain, but there was a thunderstorm brewing inside of me and I just wanted to be alone.

When we got home, I came straight to 'my' room, I closed the door and threw myself on the bed, face buried in the pillow just wanting to empty my mind.  His words keep playing in my head.  Duo knocked on the door a little while later and asked if he could come in, I told him I was sleepy and could we just talk tomorrow.  He knows something. I can't talk to him yet, there are things I need to sort out. 

. . . maybe I'm not good. . .

I'll have to talk to Duo tomorrow.  I hope he'll help me make sense of what Trowa told me today.  But why hasn't anyone ever said anything like that about him before.  Were they afraid I wouldn't be able to handle it or did they just not want me to know what he'd been like back then?  Was he really ruthless?  That's such a harsh word.  Could mom really have loved him that much, could he really have been a friend to Duo and to Trowa if he was.  This is bullshit, he wasn't ruthless, he wasn't callous, he wasn't cold.  He saved Trowa's life. He saved mom's life. He loved me. He loved her. He couldn't have been that bad. 

~~ to be continued ~~

AN:  Well?  What'd you think?  Is it still worth reading?  You really must let me know!  Sorry (or maybe not) about the major angst fest.  Please be so knd as to drop me a line and let me know what you think of it.  It'll be a few chapters more at this same slow pace before we begin to wrap things up.

Write me at BadMomma64@aol.com

Disclaimer:  Much to my chagrin, I don't own them.