Disclaimers: All normal apply, blah blah blah.
Warnings: Yaoi! 1x2, 3x4. As of now nothing much, just implied, later that
may change ^_~ Disaster warning! There is stuff in here about September
11th. If that bothers you, do not continue!
Authors Note: This wonderful fic that you are about to read is not, sadly,
all mine. You didn't honestly think I was that good did you? No, I didn't
think so. Well anyways, this was co-written by the wonderfully talented
Holly, known to most as Berrful Hunter. So half the credit for this goes to
her, make sure she receives it guys!! Go read her stuff too k ^^
You're prolly all sick of this huh? Well too bad! You need to be reminded
to go read her stuff! So after you're done with this, go fulfill your
Gundam fix with her stories! Now! Continue on! Tally Ho!
Quatre awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, screaming. A bead of sweat became known on his forehead as he tried to slow his breathing.
He went rigid as he felt the pressure of someone's arm over him. He allowed himself to turn his head slightly and found a groggy Trowa quickly becoming an alert one at all of his screaming. His brow furrowed in confusion. Why was Trowa asleep next to him? Not that he minded, it was just...uncharacteristic of him. "Are you alright?" The boy's voice snapped him back into reality and he nodded, "Yah, bad dream, that's all." Trowa realized his arm was still draped over Quatre's small form, and he moved to get up, apologizing, "Sorry, I didn't want to wake you." Quatre grabbed onto his arm, blushing, "No, please, don't go."
Trowa hesitated for a moment, and then a warm, true smile appeared on his lips. He figured that if Quatre needed support, he would be the one the blond went to, as they were the very best of friends. "I'll stay," said Trowa, sitting up straight. He yawned a little.
He leaned back against the wall, comfort not really needed. He'd endured much worse than this. Quatre sighed in relief and snuggled down into the covers. He scooted towards the wall, leaving a big empty space. "Please make yourself comfortable." He said tiredly. Trowa was about to protest, but Quatre shot him a look that said, 'don't-bother-to-argue-I'll-win.' He blinked, not used to the smaller boy being so forceful, but complied nonetheless.
The taller pilot took the spot on the bed as he was told to do and sat, every now and then stealing a glance at Quatre. "You sure you're okay? You had us all worried, last night..." Trowa said quietly, holding some of the material of the mattress in between his two fingers.
Quatre sighed, "To be honest, I have no idea. I get the worst feeling when I'm around that thing..." he mumbled into the pillow, eyes still closed. He had no desire to admit that the dark, bloody, horrible feeling he got from the ring somehow satisfied him, and he wanted more. Hence his desire to keep it.
Trowa turned and faced Quatre, sitting cross-legged. "You should get rid of it." He looked closer at Quatre, and saw something hidden inside his eyes. There was a long pause of silence. "There's something you're not telling me...Quatre." his voice was soft and at the same time interrogating. He allowed the room to once again fill with silence while he waited for Quatre's response.
'Damn that boy, how does he always know what I'm thinking?' He asked himself. "You're right...It's just, I feel like I need to figure out what it is before we get rid of it. What if someone else finds it? They could get hurt." Trowa nodded, "Yes, but presently you are the one in danger."
Quatre fell silent and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so... But I'd rather it be me who gets hurt than anyone else, like you, or Duo, or Heero, or WuFei." he fidgeted with the hem of his pant leg. "I don't know, Trowa...I... Every time I get that feeling, it--" he shook his head. "No. Never mind...I-it's nothing," he smiled a smile he hoped looked real enough.
Trowa raised his eyebrow a bit, a dead give away he didn't believe the blonde for a minute, also a sign he was pursuing an answer. "Explain." Quatre picked at the string he had managed to pull loose from his pants, "It's just...I get the feeling we need to be patient with this thing." He lied. Well, half lied. He knew they did need to be patient, so it didn't show on his face.
"Well..." Quatre started. Now there was no getting out of it. "I..." he paused. Looking up, he found himself caught in Trowa's questioning gaze. Sigh. It was no use. He couldn't bring himself to tell the deep secret he was now harboring. "Um...can we talk about my nightmare first? I think it might have a connection." As soon as the words left his lips he regretted it, for he knew Trowa would one way or another bring the topic back to where he was trying to draw it from.
Trowa nodded, "Hai." Quatre inhaled a deep breath and went on to tell about the mounds of dead bodies, the zombies, his blood-covered flesh. He shook his head, "It reminded me of the old pictures I've seen about the concentration camps back in the 20th century." Trowa raised an eyebrow, curious about how far back in time he went for that analogy. "And you think it's somehow connected to the ring?" Quatre fiddled with the blanket and nodded, "I was wearing it..."
"This ring seems so old..." Quatre said softly, aqua eyes moving up and down the length of the band. "I feel people did great and horrible things under its influence...like the Holocaust. It was terrible...but massive; Great. I don't know. Maybe..." his eyes widened in sudden horror. "Allah, no..." he held his head in his hands. "...I don't want to be another bringer of destruction like back then, Trowa..." Quatre's voice was shaky.
Trowa shook Quatre's shoulder lightly, "Calm down. We don't know if that's the case. Don't jump to conclusions." Quatre nodded slowly, dropping his hands onto his lap. "I don't know, Trowa...I somehow know it was there for that, it was there for a lot of things that went bad." Trowa peered at the youth in concern, wondering how he could know these things. Yes, he'd always been perceptive, but this...Quatre's voice interrupted his thoughts, "I think.... that it..It chose me. Picked me for some reason..."
Blinking, Trowa said, reassuringly, "Come now, Quatre. Why would something that evil want to try someone like you?" A pause. "You're too good for that kind of thing. Quatre." He squeezed Quatre's shoulder lightly.
He sighed, not free from worry, "I don't know Trowa. Let's see if we can get some sleep and we'll talk to the others in the morning." He glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand; glowing numbers read 5:10 am. "Alright..in a couple of hours."
Trowa nodded, signaling for Quatre to lie down and get some sleep. He wasn't too tired himself; he had lots of things to think about, and sleep couldn't--and wouldn't--come for him until he thought about everything bothering him, and then some. "You get some sleep, Quatre. I'll stay here. If I'm tired I'll get back to sleep." Trowa's tone was the 'don't-argue- with-me' one, yet his eyes were filled with what seemed to be compassion, a stark contrast from their usual blankness.
Quatre smiled, the only true one he'd had all night, and did as he was told. Sleep took him quickly, throwing him into yet another dream. Only this one was a bit different.
*He looked around, quite confused as to where he was. Waves off smoke billowed towards him and he coughed and choked on the dust already settling around where he was standing. People were running by him at fast paces, panic written all over their faces, yet most were silent as they ran, too confused and scared to even scream. Others were starring on in utter bafflement at the twisted wreckage of a once magnificent building. Screaming started and he looked over to where someone was pointing. A plane was flying straight into the twin building. It crashed and fire washed over him...*
A scream echoed throughout the house as Quatre shot awake, breathing heavily, tears building in his eyes. "NO!" He cried, latching on to the nearest thing he could find, which just happened to be the waist of a wild- eyed Trowa, staring at him in disbelief. He'd been watching the blond in his sleep, tossing and turning, every now and then muttering something about airplanes crashing into buildings and fire sweeping over people while others ran for their lives from the falling towers. "No... No..." repeated Quatre, shaking his head.
The other three pilots stumbled into the room for the second time that night. More like Heero and WuFei ran while Duo tripped over them, frantic. "What's wrong? What happened!" Duo asked what they had all been thinking. Heero and WuFei stood in the doorway, blocking his view. He stood on his tippee toes and saw a sobbing Quatre clinging on to an extremely shocked Trowa.
"What the hell is going on here?!" Duo exclaimed, pushing through the barrier WuFei and Heero had created. Heero glared at Duo, thus silencing him. All eyes except for Quatre's fell on Trowa. "Well? Trowa, what's going on here?" Duo said quickly before WuFei or Heero could cut him off again. Trowa remained silent before speaking three words which brought down a wave of worry on everyone, though it was milder for some than others. "I don't know."
Trowa turned to face the three standing in the doorway, "I don't know." He looked back down at Quatre, who was sobbing relentlessly into his chest. He glared at the ring through the cloth of his pocket, knowing it was probably the cause of this outbreak of emotion from his little angel. It seemed to grow warm, almost like it was laughing at them. Any indication that it actually happened faded quickly though, and he wrote it off as his imagination.
"Barton." WuFei said, breaking the silence, "Is there something you wish to tell us?" Trowa kept his gaze on the mattress as he held the shaking boy, doing his best to comfort him. Another tear fell from Quatre's eyes to Trowa's jeans. "Later." said 03, hate rising inside of him for the golden band. "Later." he repeated.
"Hn." Heero turned and shoved the other two pilots out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. Trowa blinked, noting how uncharacteristic of 01 that was, but thanking him nonetheless. He returned his gaze back to the blond, whose sobbing was slowly subsiding. "Are you alright now?" Quatre shook his head and sat up. He sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes, "I'm sorry, I got your shirt all wet."
"Forget about it." Trowa said quickly, shaking his head, his arms still around Quatre in a comforting embrace. "I have more important shirts. What matters is if you're okay now." He looked down carefully at the blond pilot in his arms, savoring being able to hold the angel but wishing it was under different circumstances.
He leaned his head on Trowa's shoulder, "It was so horrible Trowa...People were literally jumping out the windows of a 100 story building, others were running and screaming...so much fire." He shook his head, as if to clear the images and buried his face once again in the material of Trowa's shirt.
"Shh. It's okay now. It was just a dream." Trowa said, suddenly realizing how much he was talking. Usually it was considered a miracle for him to utter more than a few words the entire day, but ever since Quatre found the ring he had been talking just as much as anyone. He raised one hand to brush some of his hair away from his emerald eyes so as to see Quatre without wisps of auburn in his eyes.
It's not that he didn't like to talk, he didn't care really. He just didn't find the relevance in saying something that didn't need to be said. When it came down to it, a few uttered words meaning a million were more likely to make someone think than just a couple sentences with no thoughts in them.
"Let's go downstairs." Trowa said suddenly, releasing Quatre enough so that he could stand but not enough to lose contact. Once Quatre was sure he had himself together enough to stand, they descended the stairs, Trowa keeping a close eye on him. Upon finally reaching the kitchen, Trowa poured Quatre some tea, relieved when he saw the little blond relax at the smell and taste of the tea. He flicked the light on, dispelling the darkness of the kitchen; the sun hadn't rose yet.
Quatre practically inhaled his tea, not sipping it like he usually did. It tasted better than it ever had before. He sighed and sat the cup down, "Thanks Trowa, I really needed that." The other pilots filed down the stairs, apparently hearing the noise in the kitchen and taking the opportunity to figure out what the hell was going on with Sandrock's pilot.
Quatre awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, screaming. A bead of sweat became known on his forehead as he tried to slow his breathing.
He went rigid as he felt the pressure of someone's arm over him. He allowed himself to turn his head slightly and found a groggy Trowa quickly becoming an alert one at all of his screaming. His brow furrowed in confusion. Why was Trowa asleep next to him? Not that he minded, it was just...uncharacteristic of him. "Are you alright?" The boy's voice snapped him back into reality and he nodded, "Yah, bad dream, that's all." Trowa realized his arm was still draped over Quatre's small form, and he moved to get up, apologizing, "Sorry, I didn't want to wake you." Quatre grabbed onto his arm, blushing, "No, please, don't go."
Trowa hesitated for a moment, and then a warm, true smile appeared on his lips. He figured that if Quatre needed support, he would be the one the blond went to, as they were the very best of friends. "I'll stay," said Trowa, sitting up straight. He yawned a little.
He leaned back against the wall, comfort not really needed. He'd endured much worse than this. Quatre sighed in relief and snuggled down into the covers. He scooted towards the wall, leaving a big empty space. "Please make yourself comfortable." He said tiredly. Trowa was about to protest, but Quatre shot him a look that said, 'don't-bother-to-argue-I'll-win.' He blinked, not used to the smaller boy being so forceful, but complied nonetheless.
The taller pilot took the spot on the bed as he was told to do and sat, every now and then stealing a glance at Quatre. "You sure you're okay? You had us all worried, last night..." Trowa said quietly, holding some of the material of the mattress in between his two fingers.
Quatre sighed, "To be honest, I have no idea. I get the worst feeling when I'm around that thing..." he mumbled into the pillow, eyes still closed. He had no desire to admit that the dark, bloody, horrible feeling he got from the ring somehow satisfied him, and he wanted more. Hence his desire to keep it.
Trowa turned and faced Quatre, sitting cross-legged. "You should get rid of it." He looked closer at Quatre, and saw something hidden inside his eyes. There was a long pause of silence. "There's something you're not telling me...Quatre." his voice was soft and at the same time interrogating. He allowed the room to once again fill with silence while he waited for Quatre's response.
'Damn that boy, how does he always know what I'm thinking?' He asked himself. "You're right...It's just, I feel like I need to figure out what it is before we get rid of it. What if someone else finds it? They could get hurt." Trowa nodded, "Yes, but presently you are the one in danger."
Quatre fell silent and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so... But I'd rather it be me who gets hurt than anyone else, like you, or Duo, or Heero, or WuFei." he fidgeted with the hem of his pant leg. "I don't know, Trowa...I... Every time I get that feeling, it--" he shook his head. "No. Never mind...I-it's nothing," he smiled a smile he hoped looked real enough.
Trowa raised his eyebrow a bit, a dead give away he didn't believe the blonde for a minute, also a sign he was pursuing an answer. "Explain." Quatre picked at the string he had managed to pull loose from his pants, "It's just...I get the feeling we need to be patient with this thing." He lied. Well, half lied. He knew they did need to be patient, so it didn't show on his face.
"Well..." Quatre started. Now there was no getting out of it. "I..." he paused. Looking up, he found himself caught in Trowa's questioning gaze. Sigh. It was no use. He couldn't bring himself to tell the deep secret he was now harboring. "Um...can we talk about my nightmare first? I think it might have a connection." As soon as the words left his lips he regretted it, for he knew Trowa would one way or another bring the topic back to where he was trying to draw it from.
Trowa nodded, "Hai." Quatre inhaled a deep breath and went on to tell about the mounds of dead bodies, the zombies, his blood-covered flesh. He shook his head, "It reminded me of the old pictures I've seen about the concentration camps back in the 20th century." Trowa raised an eyebrow, curious about how far back in time he went for that analogy. "And you think it's somehow connected to the ring?" Quatre fiddled with the blanket and nodded, "I was wearing it..."
"This ring seems so old..." Quatre said softly, aqua eyes moving up and down the length of the band. "I feel people did great and horrible things under its influence...like the Holocaust. It was terrible...but massive; Great. I don't know. Maybe..." his eyes widened in sudden horror. "Allah, no..." he held his head in his hands. "...I don't want to be another bringer of destruction like back then, Trowa..." Quatre's voice was shaky.
Trowa shook Quatre's shoulder lightly, "Calm down. We don't know if that's the case. Don't jump to conclusions." Quatre nodded slowly, dropping his hands onto his lap. "I don't know, Trowa...I somehow know it was there for that, it was there for a lot of things that went bad." Trowa peered at the youth in concern, wondering how he could know these things. Yes, he'd always been perceptive, but this...Quatre's voice interrupted his thoughts, "I think.... that it..It chose me. Picked me for some reason..."
Blinking, Trowa said, reassuringly, "Come now, Quatre. Why would something that evil want to try someone like you?" A pause. "You're too good for that kind of thing. Quatre." He squeezed Quatre's shoulder lightly.
He sighed, not free from worry, "I don't know Trowa. Let's see if we can get some sleep and we'll talk to the others in the morning." He glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand; glowing numbers read 5:10 am. "Alright..in a couple of hours."
Trowa nodded, signaling for Quatre to lie down and get some sleep. He wasn't too tired himself; he had lots of things to think about, and sleep couldn't--and wouldn't--come for him until he thought about everything bothering him, and then some. "You get some sleep, Quatre. I'll stay here. If I'm tired I'll get back to sleep." Trowa's tone was the 'don't-argue- with-me' one, yet his eyes were filled with what seemed to be compassion, a stark contrast from their usual blankness.
Quatre smiled, the only true one he'd had all night, and did as he was told. Sleep took him quickly, throwing him into yet another dream. Only this one was a bit different.
*He looked around, quite confused as to where he was. Waves off smoke billowed towards him and he coughed and choked on the dust already settling around where he was standing. People were running by him at fast paces, panic written all over their faces, yet most were silent as they ran, too confused and scared to even scream. Others were starring on in utter bafflement at the twisted wreckage of a once magnificent building. Screaming started and he looked over to where someone was pointing. A plane was flying straight into the twin building. It crashed and fire washed over him...*
A scream echoed throughout the house as Quatre shot awake, breathing heavily, tears building in his eyes. "NO!" He cried, latching on to the nearest thing he could find, which just happened to be the waist of a wild- eyed Trowa, staring at him in disbelief. He'd been watching the blond in his sleep, tossing and turning, every now and then muttering something about airplanes crashing into buildings and fire sweeping over people while others ran for their lives from the falling towers. "No... No..." repeated Quatre, shaking his head.
The other three pilots stumbled into the room for the second time that night. More like Heero and WuFei ran while Duo tripped over them, frantic. "What's wrong? What happened!" Duo asked what they had all been thinking. Heero and WuFei stood in the doorway, blocking his view. He stood on his tippee toes and saw a sobbing Quatre clinging on to an extremely shocked Trowa.
"What the hell is going on here?!" Duo exclaimed, pushing through the barrier WuFei and Heero had created. Heero glared at Duo, thus silencing him. All eyes except for Quatre's fell on Trowa. "Well? Trowa, what's going on here?" Duo said quickly before WuFei or Heero could cut him off again. Trowa remained silent before speaking three words which brought down a wave of worry on everyone, though it was milder for some than others. "I don't know."
Trowa turned to face the three standing in the doorway, "I don't know." He looked back down at Quatre, who was sobbing relentlessly into his chest. He glared at the ring through the cloth of his pocket, knowing it was probably the cause of this outbreak of emotion from his little angel. It seemed to grow warm, almost like it was laughing at them. Any indication that it actually happened faded quickly though, and he wrote it off as his imagination.
"Barton." WuFei said, breaking the silence, "Is there something you wish to tell us?" Trowa kept his gaze on the mattress as he held the shaking boy, doing his best to comfort him. Another tear fell from Quatre's eyes to Trowa's jeans. "Later." said 03, hate rising inside of him for the golden band. "Later." he repeated.
"Hn." Heero turned and shoved the other two pilots out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. Trowa blinked, noting how uncharacteristic of 01 that was, but thanking him nonetheless. He returned his gaze back to the blond, whose sobbing was slowly subsiding. "Are you alright now?" Quatre shook his head and sat up. He sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes, "I'm sorry, I got your shirt all wet."
"Forget about it." Trowa said quickly, shaking his head, his arms still around Quatre in a comforting embrace. "I have more important shirts. What matters is if you're okay now." He looked down carefully at the blond pilot in his arms, savoring being able to hold the angel but wishing it was under different circumstances.
He leaned his head on Trowa's shoulder, "It was so horrible Trowa...People were literally jumping out the windows of a 100 story building, others were running and screaming...so much fire." He shook his head, as if to clear the images and buried his face once again in the material of Trowa's shirt.
"Shh. It's okay now. It was just a dream." Trowa said, suddenly realizing how much he was talking. Usually it was considered a miracle for him to utter more than a few words the entire day, but ever since Quatre found the ring he had been talking just as much as anyone. He raised one hand to brush some of his hair away from his emerald eyes so as to see Quatre without wisps of auburn in his eyes.
It's not that he didn't like to talk, he didn't care really. He just didn't find the relevance in saying something that didn't need to be said. When it came down to it, a few uttered words meaning a million were more likely to make someone think than just a couple sentences with no thoughts in them.
"Let's go downstairs." Trowa said suddenly, releasing Quatre enough so that he could stand but not enough to lose contact. Once Quatre was sure he had himself together enough to stand, they descended the stairs, Trowa keeping a close eye on him. Upon finally reaching the kitchen, Trowa poured Quatre some tea, relieved when he saw the little blond relax at the smell and taste of the tea. He flicked the light on, dispelling the darkness of the kitchen; the sun hadn't rose yet.
Quatre practically inhaled his tea, not sipping it like he usually did. It tasted better than it ever had before. He sighed and sat the cup down, "Thanks Trowa, I really needed that." The other pilots filed down the stairs, apparently hearing the noise in the kitchen and taking the opportunity to figure out what the hell was going on with Sandrock's pilot.