Title: Ill Effects
Rating: R
Pairings: 2Dorothy (more friends than anything), 3x4 (implied)
Warnings: Angst, probably some citris, language Spoilers: Not that I know if yet Disclaimers: I don't own them, and I don't make any money off of them. I owe about the next ten years of my life to about three different banks...so please don't sue me!
A/N: This story was actually going to be called "A Sickening Deal," but I find that "Ill Effects" sounds so much better than that. This is the second installment of the trilogy I've been working on, the first part being "The Broken Flower Pot." For those of you that have been anxiously waiting for me to continue, I am so sorry it took so long! This story will take me a long time to write, partly because this one is actually the hardest to write and then I have absolutely no time to write! So forgive the slowness, but hopefull it's worth it! On with the fic! (And please, R&R!)

Trowa sat in the main trailor, carefully applying eyeliner to his left eye. All around him, the other members of the Troupe were laughing and joking as they also got ready for that night's performance. He watched one of the acrobats kiss one of the dancers, and the corners of his lips turned up. Quatre would be at the performance tonight.

"Hey! Come on! I was joking!" Someone yelled, laughing. Trowa glanced at who it was, and another smile flickered across his features as Pedro, his Latin Lion Tamer, tried unsuccessfully to pull his girlfriend into a hug. But as she walked away, her head held high, Trowa could see the workings of a smile on her face.

"Hello Trowa." Trowa gulped. He had not heard that voice in over three months, since Wufei's death. Trowa slowly turned to face the man standing there, his face a mask covering all of the emotions, none of them happy.

"Hello Heero. What brings you to the Circus?" Heero shrugged, a move still unfamiliar on the soldier's body, and he leaned against the counter top.

"I heard you were in town, so I thought I'd check it out. Why?" Heero's voice was accusing. "Aren't you happy to see me?" He seemed to be mocking Trowa, but Trowa wouldn't rise to the bait.

"You should go get a seat. We fill up pretty fast here." Heero chuckled, and touched the rim of Trowa's drinking glass.

"Well, then, if you say so." Heero pushed himself away from the counter and walked out of the trailor, a smug smile on his features. Trowa frowned after he left, and he took a sip of his water. After he swallowed, he made a face and put his glass back down.

"The pipes must be rusted." He muttered, looking into the glass. He swirled the water around, studying to see if there was anything foreign in it.

"Hey Trowa! Come on! The show is going to start and we're up second!" Trowa nodded, and put his glass down, planning to study it once he got back. something wasn't right...

-----

Duo sat at the front desk of the Shipping Yard, a stack of papers in front of him and a radio blasting some punk rock song in the background. He casually filled out some of the information on the paperwork, but he really wasn't paying any attention to what he was writing.

"Wufei..." The name came out of his mouth before he could even remember thinking it, and the moment he said it, his heart plummeted. Even though three months had passed since his love's death, the pain was still very new.

"Duo, are you in here?" The sweet, almost child-like voice of Hilde came through the front door, and Duo said a soft 'Hai' to give her the head's up.

She came in, and the moment she saw his face, the smile on her own faltered and she sighed quietly. "Duo, I... You can't just do this to yourself all the time!" She yelled, throwing the brown bag she was carrying on the desktop. "I worry about you, you know!" Duo shrugged, standing.

"I miss him, Hilde, there's nothing more to it. I don't think I'll be able to get over it so quickly." He looked up, a glazing of tears in his eyes that refused to fall. "I loved him, and I will always love him. Nothing will ever change that, not even his...death." Even after so long, he still had trouble saying that word. Hilde sighed, and she started to pick up some of the things that fell out of the bag when it hit the desk.

"You need to try, Duo, there's nothing more to it." She started to leave the room when it seemed she remembered something. "Duo?"

"Yeah?" He asked, his face bland.

"Do you know a Dorothy Catalonia?" Duo frowned.

"Yeah...Why?" Not that he wanted to remember her. Wufei had always spoken highly of her when he had missions to complete with her. And although Duo knew Wufei held no feelings other than friendship for the blonde mastermind, he mentally admitted that there were times when he was severely jealous of her.

"No reason, really. She's just waiting outside to talk to you." Hilde left the room before Duo could explode at her. Duo, on the other hand, was more perplexed than anything as to Dorothy's appearance.

"Great...She's probably here to give her condolences or something..." He mumbled as he walked out to the front of the building, seeing the woman playing with a rose. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, and she turned, her long skirt flowing around her, and a large, if not honest smile coming across her face.

"Duo! It has been ages! How are you?"

-----

Trowa let go of the trapeze and landed gracefully on the small platform attached to the forty foot pole. He bowed to both sides of the tent, his eyes landing on the small blonde head that seemed completely glued to him. The corners of his lips lifted a bit, and he tilted his head a bit to tell Quatre that he acknowledged him.

Music floated up from below, and Trowa took several steps out on the tightrope, his focus on everything around him more so than on the tightrope. He had done this routine for almost a year, he could practically do it in his sleep.

Then he saw it, or rather, him. Standing in the shadows of the hidden alcove where the other end of the tightrope was held. Trowa's heart stopped when he saw the metal flash in the light, the glint on Heero's teeth as he smiled evilly.

"It's your turn Trowa, if not now then later." Trowa tried to move backwards on the rope, but his eyes were riveted on Heero and his movements, and he couldn't move. Heero bent down and pressed the blade against the rope. "But believe me, my friend, I will do anything possible to make it right now."

He felt it as Heero cut through the rope, felt the end go slack and refuse to hold his weight. He could hear the screams as all of the audience saw the rope fall, then he heard the frantic movements of his Troupe as they tried to gather beneath him to break his fall.

But he was one step ahead in this, and his hand tightened around the rope he had been able to grab. But the momentum of him falling had him hitting the pole hard, and Trowa could feel blackness claiming him. But it wasn't death, he noted, just darkness.

He stayed concious enough to lower himself as much as possible before members of the Troupe were able to get to him, Quatre being right there as well. Trowa raised a finger and touched the tearstain that marked the blonde's light-colored cheek.

"Qua...tre...b-b-b....-reful." He was able to mumble out before he went completely limp, Quatre's hand pressing to Trowa's forehead. And although Quatre couldn't hear what Trowa had said, he knew exactly what he meant.

"I will, Trowa. Just come back to me."

-----

a/n: I hope you liked it...it was definitely hard to write. Any feedback could influence me, so please rememer to R&R!! Thanks!

SilentOne