Stolen Misery

Gundam Wing A/C

I do not own any of the characters except the ones I have created

Here's a hint of what's going on below. It's after the war and a bunch of said things happened, Trowa had a child

Someone red this and didn't quite understand so I'm explaining a few things, he married and had a child, his wife died

Due to an incident you will find out soon enough.

So he's living with his child and Quatre

******

He walked into a room with black tile floors and white walls; // he was only six years old. // The doctor mused watching him walk up to the small flat-topped podium. He rubbed the skin on his chin, he twisted it and released, repeating the same motion over a few times. He watched the boys blue hair shine underneath the blue-lighted lamp still curiously stepping over to the podium. "Go ahead." the old man said with a smile startling the youngster because he thought he was alone. "Take it."

The gun was full of new shine, it was gold and long, he'd seen his father carrying a gun around before but he was never aloud to touch it. Like most things at the house, everything was in an invisible cage.

He seemed to have this bad habit with breaking things, his mother would argue for his side, but she was gone now. And he knew that.

"Go on," the doctor said smiling a re-assuring smile that said. 'Don't worry. It won't break.' He leaned over on his tiptoes and took the very light gun; it's long barrel shinning gold as the rest of the gun did. "It's light now isn't it?" All Triton did was nod to the man's questions and answers, he ran his fingers up and down the barrel with the most curious face, that most older women would find adorable to see on an six year old. That is, those six year olds that are amused by holding simple flowers, a highly decorated teacup, fancy fabric, or maybe something a bit more complicated.

But Triton got to be fascinated with a gun. Then he suddenly spoke up. "What does it do?" he asked and looked up at the Doctor with Trowa's sparkling green eyes. "It saves people." The Doctor lied, "Saves?" the youngster blinked once or twice and then never again for a minute or so. His voice was small but if he wanted, his voice could be powerful enough to rock the bottom of the ocean floor and cause earthquakes on the land above.

That very next day, Trowa's son seemed to be missing from his house but he wouldn't realize this until later, he blinked as his alarm clock went off it was Wednesday, smack dab in the middle of the week. Sometimes, he liked Wednesday, but today was not one of those days. He threw a long arm over and smacked the alarm clock it made a strange help me noise and went off. He ran threw his agenda, //Get Triton to school// he thought while rubbing his eyes, // Call duo and tell him 'nicely' I want my CD back. // He sat up and looked over at the empty spot next to him.

Triton had been there the night before because of a nightmare, and he was never up before his father. Never. A confused looked came to his face and his agenda disappeared, "Triton!" he called, and there was no answer throughout the quiet house.

His bedroom door open yes, he rolled out of bed with only his shorts on.

He went into a bedroom down the hall and peeked into his son's room. "Triton?" he said quietly and then noticing his bed a mess and the room array, he opened the door widely, "Triton?" He called panicking, he went hastily down the hall way into the living room to find the TV off he wasn't watching cartoons, he wasn't getting ready for school, he wasn't in the kitchen. Fear rose in Trowa's stomach because that's where it starts; it rose into his chest and then into his heart.

He flew for the phone that sat on a side table next to the couch the faced the TV where Triton's blanket was so he –had- been their, at what time he didn't know. // How could I let him slip out without knowing it? // The thought ran threw his mind and he pressed speed dial one. Quatres house.

"Hello?" the sweet voice on the other line smiled with the thought of someone calling him. Dressed and ready for the day Quatre sat at window side table drinking tea. "Quatre." Trowa said with a bit of relief the world wasn't coming to an end.

"Oh, Trowa up already?" he teased. And then was cut off, "Triton's missing." the same fear rose within Quatre as it did with Trowa, there was a moments silence on the line.

"Oh no." this was the same scenario, they both knew it, only his wife hadn't come back. "I can't find him anywhere." His voice quivered even though he had only checked three places, the back sliding glass door slid open. "Dad?" He blinked curiously standing at the door. And Trowa turned around with total relief. "Triton!" he almost sounded angry "I found him." he said into the phone with that straight-faced 'you're in trouble' look.

"Oh thank gods." Quatre said with a heavy sigh "I'll see you later!" Trowa agreed and said yes. End of conversation Trowa went to Triton and knelt down on his knee grabbing the young boy who was all dressed for school "Don't go outside the house unless I'm awake ok?" he pleaded knowing the boy would want to know why because he asked why more times than Maxwell did and this wasn't good for Trowa's health.

"It was only the backyard." He said with his head turned sideways, he clung to a picture frame that was close to his heart

Clutched in both hands as it might collapse because it was so strong of a hold "what is that?" Trowa said taking the top of the frame and then Triton let it go. It was a picture of his mother, Trowa and himself. One of the many they had around the house in random places this one had been taken off the table next to the couch.

A sad look became of Trowa's face, and he hugged Triton setting down the picture frame. Triton was certainly an extraordinary boy, "Don't think about that." He warned, "It's only Wednesday." Triton shook in his father's arms because of both that is to come and what had happened. "I think it was a dream." He whispered in his father's ear, Trowa clenched him tighter as if to crush his bones, but Triton didn't feel the pain of the grip, only the love.

This was the beginning, the beginning of something old. The past never dies.