Trowa lay curled up in fetal position, trying to sleep. He tossed and turned in the darkness. He couldn't stop thinking about that mysterious note he had received. Several hours later, he finally drifted off, the strange message still running through his mind.
"Trowa. Trowa!" A cool feminine voice called his name, and soft hand touched his cheek. "Wake up, Trowa!"
"Catherine!" He reached up to hug his foster sister. As he began to embrace her, her smile froze and she became oddly stiff. As Trowa pulled away, he saw that she had turned to glass. Horrified, he backed away, only to see her shatter and crack into a million tiny pieces. Trowa turned on his heel and took off running.
"Trowa. Hey Tro, over here!" The voice calling him this time was deeper and lighthearted. He turned and saw Duo Maxwell.
"Duo," he sighed in relief as he reached for Duo's hand, "It's good to see-" Trowa stopped mid-sentence as Duo seemed to freeze and became glass and then shattered from the touch of his skin. "No!" Trowa turned and ran again, this time to be confronted by his best friend, Quatre Winner. 'Come on, please be real, Quatre!' He silently begged the likeness of his friend.
"Trowa." Quatre's gentle, calm voice brought quiet reassurance to Trowa like no other could.
"Quatre." Trowa's fingers barely brushed Quatre's skin. Quatre shattered. Trowa cried out in anguish and fell to his knees. As he hit the floor, he felt it shatter. Then he was falling, falling… and a pair of green eyes was watching him.
Trowa awoke with a start. He was covered in a cold sweat. He shivered and tried to shake the dream off, but it would not go. Finally he got up and began pacing. A screech of metal against metal could be heard as the food slot was opened and a new tray of food was pushed through. Trowa wondered why he was being fed again so soon. But then he noticed another tiny roll of parchment. He pulled it open and saw the same brown-ink scrawl of the night before:
Take care at the changing of mutual friends.
Numerous weapons may be found.
Eyes shall be your clue.
Watch yourself, and forget not your benefactors.
This message was more coded than its predecessor, but Trowa could still understand it. It was a warning. The first sentence was basically saying be careful at shift change, the time the sender of the notes had told him to be ready. The second was telling him that extra "weapons", or guards, would be on duty tonight. The third was a bit more puzzling. Trowa reread the line again. Eyes will be your clue… As he searched his mind for the answer to the clue, he leaned back against the wall. His eyes closed halfway and his dream drifted back to him. Embracing his friends… Glass shattering… Falling, falling… and he was watched by- "Eyes!" he exclaimed and sat up suddenly. The current guard on duty pulled open the eye slot and looked around suspiciously. Trowa quickly closed his eyes and tried to look inconspicuous. Seemingly satisfied, the guard shut the slot, and Trowa was left alone again. He had deciphered the third sentence. He would know the writer of the notes by the green eyes. As for the last sentence, well, the first part was obvious. It was another warning telling him to be careful. And as for the forget not your benefactors part, he supposed that meant make as much trouble for his captors as they had made for him. That would not be a problem. Outside his door, Trowa could hear the clink of guns being set on the weapons rack. That meant the noon shift change was taking place. Trowa sat down to wait the ten long hours until the ten o'clock shift change, but got back to his feet when he heard gunfire right outside his cell.
"Stand back!" yelled a muffled voice. Trowa wondered if this voice was addressing him. "Get the hell away from the door, Barton!" Yes, he was pretty sure that whoever-it-was was talking to him. He quickly moved as far to the back of the cell as he could. Just as he reached the back wall, a huge explosion shook the entire complex. Before the dust had even begun to settle, a shadowy figure rushed forward and grabbed his hand and dragged him forward. Trowa looked at his rescuer's face, but it was covered, all but the green eyes. This must be the mysterious writer of the notes, and the "guard" from yesterday. But nothing was supposed to happen until tonight… He contemplated this while they ran down the hall.
"I thought you weren't coming until tonight!" His rescuer looked back at him. The green eyes seemed to be smiling and yet worried at the same time.
"Change of plans. They moved up your execution. It was scheduled for tomorrow, but they switched it to this afternoon."
"Oh."
"I thought you might want to miss that appointment." His rescuer's voice dripped with sarcasm. "By the way, you can call me Shadow." Shadow's steps slowed as they approached a split in the hallway. "Something's not right. Uh oh…" Within seconds they were surrounded by armed guards.
"Hands behind your heads!" barked the head guard. "Now!"
"Seems your rescue plan was rather short-lived," Trowa whispered.
"Yeah," was all Shadow could say as they both slowly raised their arms skyward.