A/N: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing
A "*" indicates thought
Rude Awakenings: Chapter Three - The Louder That We Scream The More Invisible We Seem
****************************************************
Trowa woke up early on a cold January morning. He rolled over and peered out his window.
*Complete whiteness...it's always snowy in January, why do I seem so surprised?*
He got up and walked over to his closet, pulling on a grey-green turtleneck. He hopped into a pair of black pants and walked down the stairs. Sitting down, he was joined by a young girl.
"Good morning, Tro!" she smiled, missing one of her front teeth.
"Hey, how are you, Greta?" he asked, taking her into his arms.
"I'm great! I finally lost that tooth that was buggin me!"
"So I noticed," he laughed warm-heartedly.
"Do you lose your teeth, Tro?"
"I did, but that was when I was a lot younger, babe."
"Yeah? Did your mommy help you get them out?"
"No..." he replied, lowering his tone.
*Your mom was trash, and she thought of you as trash. You never needed her...*
"It's okay, Tro! I will help you lose your teeth if you want!"
"No, it's okay Greta. I lost all I needed to lose..."
*Yeah, like your mind, you piece of trash!*
"Tro-tro? Why are you looking sadened?"
"No reason," he said, forcing a smile. "You don't have to worry about me, sweetie."
"Okay Tro-tro!" she said, and bounced into the kitchen.
*Ahh, get rid of her. And while you're at it, get rid of yourself!*
He walked over to a coat hanger, and put on a jacket. "Greta?"
"What, Tro-tro?"
"I'm going for a walk. Don't go anywhere, okay? If you need me, you can call me, okay? You know my cell-phone number, alright?"
"Okay, Tro!"
"Kay..."
He walked out the door, and started down the street. Crossing the road a bit away from his house, he ran into a familiar face that he hadn't seen in a while.
"Hey, Trowa! How have you been?" asked a man, looking about in his mid-twenties.
"Hey, I've been...good, yeah, I've been good...and you?"
"I've been great!" he said, bearing a perfectly white smile. Trowa looked him up and down, then shook his head.
*You need to get a life, man, big time...*
"So," the man asked, a little later when they were seated in a cafe, "How's Greta?"
"She's good..." Trowa replied, sipping his cider.
"Still insisting on calling you "Tro-tro"?"
"Yeah...it's a habit she can't break I guess," Trowa said laughing.
"It's cute...you know, you really need some help...raising a little girl on your own and all..."
*Oh, and like I'd choose YOU to help me?*
"What do you mean, John?"
"I mean," he smiled, scooting closer to Trowa, "I mean, if you want, I could help you look after her..."
"No, I'm fine...I'm perfectly capable of raising her. I've done it for four and a half years now..."
"But you're only seventeen," he protested, scooting closer, so that he was right at Trowa's hip.
"That's the point, John," Trowa started, moving away from him, "I'm only seventeen..."
"I don't mind. Always was interested in younger guys..."
"I think this conversation is over..." Trowa said and walked out of the cafe, with John right behind him.
"Trowa, I'm sorry, I came on too strong!"
"No, John, you came on PERIOD!"
"But Trowa!" he whined, stopping the quick pace he was walking.
"But nothing, John...I'm sick of you doing this to me!"
"Trowa, I don't do anything to you..."
Trowa stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly turned around.
"You don't do anything? YOU DON'T DO ANYTHING?! You have NO idea what you do to me! You make me wanna fucking puke!!!!!"
"Trowa, what's gotten into you? We used to be such good friend!"
"No, we were never friends. You liked me. Which is disgusting enough, let alone those nights where you...!" he stopped his sentance.
"Go ahead, Trowa...yell...yell about what I do to you. Not like you don't fucking deserve it!"
Trowa stood there.
*Now you've done it. You've fucking done it now, Trowa...*
Trowa walked back home at a quick pace, the cold wrapping around him. He walked into the house and locked the door behind him.
"Something wrong, Tro-tro?" asked a frightened Greta.
"No, hon, nothing wrong...just...cold. It's cold. That's it..."
"Pwomise?"
"Yeah," he said, sitting next to her on the couch.
*Yes, lie to her, the only person you know that shows a little true interest in you. She must be insane. How can she like YOU?*
"Greta, come on, it's time for your nap..."
"Why, Tro-tro? You don't have to take a nappy..."
"I know, but that's because I'm older. If you don't take your nap, you'll be tired early this evening, then you'll go to bed, then you'll be up all night."
"I know..." she said, adverting her brown eyes to the ground.
"Come on," he said, picking her up, "let's get you to bed."
Once he was done tucking her in, he walked downstairs and sat on the couch, flipping through numerous after-Christmas sale commercials.
*You're not going to find anything that you like. You're too picky...*
Trowa shook his head. He began staring at a pricy necklace on the Home Shopping Network when his mind began to wander. He remembered what happened two summers ago.
*Go on...think about it. It was wonderful, wasn't it?*
"No...it wasn't. Now leave me alone..." he said to himself, blinking his eyes hard.
*But Tro-tro...remember. Remember the look in her eyes? The pleading look? The one that made you--*
"I said LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" he shouted, putting a pillow over his head.
*Fiesty, are we?*
"Tro-tro?" asked Greta.
"Hey...why aren't you sleeping?"
"You shouted and it woked me up..."
"Sorry, hon, go back to bed, okay?"
"But Tro-tro...who were you yelling at?"
"Nobody...Really, nobody."
"Are you sure? Was it your imaginary friend?"
"Yeah, you can call it that...now go to bed, okay honey?"
"Yeah..." she smiled, and walked back down the hall.
*See? Not even she believes anything you say. You're worthless.*
"No," he began in a whisper, "you are..."
And with that, he fell into a deep sleep, dreaming about the summer before the last.
A "*" indicates thought
Rude Awakenings: Chapter Three - The Louder That We Scream The More Invisible We Seem
****************************************************
Trowa woke up early on a cold January morning. He rolled over and peered out his window.
*Complete whiteness...it's always snowy in January, why do I seem so surprised?*
He got up and walked over to his closet, pulling on a grey-green turtleneck. He hopped into a pair of black pants and walked down the stairs. Sitting down, he was joined by a young girl.
"Good morning, Tro!" she smiled, missing one of her front teeth.
"Hey, how are you, Greta?" he asked, taking her into his arms.
"I'm great! I finally lost that tooth that was buggin me!"
"So I noticed," he laughed warm-heartedly.
"Do you lose your teeth, Tro?"
"I did, but that was when I was a lot younger, babe."
"Yeah? Did your mommy help you get them out?"
"No..." he replied, lowering his tone.
*Your mom was trash, and she thought of you as trash. You never needed her...*
"It's okay, Tro! I will help you lose your teeth if you want!"
"No, it's okay Greta. I lost all I needed to lose..."
*Yeah, like your mind, you piece of trash!*
"Tro-tro? Why are you looking sadened?"
"No reason," he said, forcing a smile. "You don't have to worry about me, sweetie."
"Okay Tro-tro!" she said, and bounced into the kitchen.
*Ahh, get rid of her. And while you're at it, get rid of yourself!*
He walked over to a coat hanger, and put on a jacket. "Greta?"
"What, Tro-tro?"
"I'm going for a walk. Don't go anywhere, okay? If you need me, you can call me, okay? You know my cell-phone number, alright?"
"Okay, Tro!"
"Kay..."
He walked out the door, and started down the street. Crossing the road a bit away from his house, he ran into a familiar face that he hadn't seen in a while.
"Hey, Trowa! How have you been?" asked a man, looking about in his mid-twenties.
"Hey, I've been...good, yeah, I've been good...and you?"
"I've been great!" he said, bearing a perfectly white smile. Trowa looked him up and down, then shook his head.
*You need to get a life, man, big time...*
"So," the man asked, a little later when they were seated in a cafe, "How's Greta?"
"She's good..." Trowa replied, sipping his cider.
"Still insisting on calling you "Tro-tro"?"
"Yeah...it's a habit she can't break I guess," Trowa said laughing.
"It's cute...you know, you really need some help...raising a little girl on your own and all..."
*Oh, and like I'd choose YOU to help me?*
"What do you mean, John?"
"I mean," he smiled, scooting closer to Trowa, "I mean, if you want, I could help you look after her..."
"No, I'm fine...I'm perfectly capable of raising her. I've done it for four and a half years now..."
"But you're only seventeen," he protested, scooting closer, so that he was right at Trowa's hip.
"That's the point, John," Trowa started, moving away from him, "I'm only seventeen..."
"I don't mind. Always was interested in younger guys..."
"I think this conversation is over..." Trowa said and walked out of the cafe, with John right behind him.
"Trowa, I'm sorry, I came on too strong!"
"No, John, you came on PERIOD!"
"But Trowa!" he whined, stopping the quick pace he was walking.
"But nothing, John...I'm sick of you doing this to me!"
"Trowa, I don't do anything to you..."
Trowa stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly turned around.
"You don't do anything? YOU DON'T DO ANYTHING?! You have NO idea what you do to me! You make me wanna fucking puke!!!!!"
"Trowa, what's gotten into you? We used to be such good friend!"
"No, we were never friends. You liked me. Which is disgusting enough, let alone those nights where you...!" he stopped his sentance.
"Go ahead, Trowa...yell...yell about what I do to you. Not like you don't fucking deserve it!"
Trowa stood there.
*Now you've done it. You've fucking done it now, Trowa...*
Trowa walked back home at a quick pace, the cold wrapping around him. He walked into the house and locked the door behind him.
"Something wrong, Tro-tro?" asked a frightened Greta.
"No, hon, nothing wrong...just...cold. It's cold. That's it..."
"Pwomise?"
"Yeah," he said, sitting next to her on the couch.
*Yes, lie to her, the only person you know that shows a little true interest in you. She must be insane. How can she like YOU?*
"Greta, come on, it's time for your nap..."
"Why, Tro-tro? You don't have to take a nappy..."
"I know, but that's because I'm older. If you don't take your nap, you'll be tired early this evening, then you'll go to bed, then you'll be up all night."
"I know..." she said, adverting her brown eyes to the ground.
"Come on," he said, picking her up, "let's get you to bed."
Once he was done tucking her in, he walked downstairs and sat on the couch, flipping through numerous after-Christmas sale commercials.
*You're not going to find anything that you like. You're too picky...*
Trowa shook his head. He began staring at a pricy necklace on the Home Shopping Network when his mind began to wander. He remembered what happened two summers ago.
*Go on...think about it. It was wonderful, wasn't it?*
"No...it wasn't. Now leave me alone..." he said to himself, blinking his eyes hard.
*But Tro-tro...remember. Remember the look in her eyes? The pleading look? The one that made you--*
"I said LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" he shouted, putting a pillow over his head.
*Fiesty, are we?*
"Tro-tro?" asked Greta.
"Hey...why aren't you sleeping?"
"You shouted and it woked me up..."
"Sorry, hon, go back to bed, okay?"
"But Tro-tro...who were you yelling at?"
"Nobody...Really, nobody."
"Are you sure? Was it your imaginary friend?"
"Yeah, you can call it that...now go to bed, okay honey?"
"Yeah..." she smiled, and walked back down the hall.
*See? Not even she believes anything you say. You're worthless.*
"No," he began in a whisper, "you are..."
And with that, he fell into a deep sleep, dreaming about the summer before the last.