Quatre wiped the rolling sweat from his forehead as he turned his azure eyes to the sky. It was such a beautiful morning, he could barely hold back the smile spreading across his face. It felt almost as if that morning was made for him.

"You look like you could use this," came a soft voice from behind him. Quatre turned, and shading his eyes he saw Trowa approach him with a pitcher of ice water and a glass. "You're flushed, maybe you ought to come inside."

"Just pour me a glass of that and I'll be all right." Quatre laughed as Trowa gingerly poured the sparkling water for the beautiful blonde.

"I've just never seen your cheeks so red," Trowa sighed, handing over the glass.

"Well you forget, I also have very fair skin," Quatre took a sip. Trowa watched him for a moment, then slowly, lifted his slender finger to stroke the blonde's rosy cheeks. Quatre knew he was blushing then, but of course no one would have ever known.

"These roses," Trowa said, picking one from it's stem, "how do you grow them in the desert like this?" Qutare didn't answer right away. His eyes were focused on Trowa's hands, how his long fingers so delicately twirled the rose about. They were remarkable.

"Well," he said finally, "I will admit it's not easy."

"I can't imagine that it is."

"I think that the secret is simply and truly just time. Time and patience, I suppose. Roses are themselves a fickle thing. If not in the right environment they won't open and bloom. On top of that, having to work in such a hateful environment takes all I have just to get them to sprout out of the ground!" Quatre took another sip of his glass, just thinking about the heat made him parched.

"Why do you do it then, if it's so much work. Why focus on such a fickle flower, why even bother gardening?"

"Are you serious?" Quatre asked with a smile. Trowa nodded.

"There's nothing more satisfying in the world that watching a tiny bud that you raised yourself open up, open up to the entire world for the first time. To see it's colors bloom in the sunlight. Trowa, I can't even begin to tell you."

"Why not," the brunette asked, handing his rose to Quatre, "I could listen to you talk forever. Please, tell me about your roses."

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Quatre suddenly felt himself jerked out of his dream. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked around his room to find was had disturbed his perfect slumber. What he found sent him down the hall screaming.

"He's gone!" Quatre couldn't even hear himself, "Trowa's gone!"

"Quatre, calm down," Wufei said coming out of the kitchen.

"Wufei, Trowa's gone! He's gone, he wasn't in his bed when I woke up..and.." Qutare felt legs began to shake and soon he wasn't even able to stand on his own. Wufei was the only thing keeping him form falling to his knees.

"Quatre, what are you talking about? What do you mean Trowa is gone?"

"He's not in his bed..." Quatre's voice quivered.

"Here," Wufei set Quatre down on the couch, "I'll go look myself, you stay right here."

"What's going on down here?" Duo came down stairs, pulling an old shirt over his head.

"Duo, have you seen Heero?" Wufei called from the bedroom.

"No, he slept on the couch last night remember?"

"Oh God," Quatre mumbled.

"What is going on here?" Duo asked again more furiously. Wufei came back from the bedroom, a confused look on his face.

"Oh shit," he said quietly, "he couldn't have. I thought maybe because you weren't wearing you glasses you might have been mistaken, but.."

"He isn't there?" Duo asked anxiously.

"This isn't happening," Quatre stood up, "I thought I had more time, I thought Sally was leaving.."

"He must have caught her before she left," Wufei came over and grabbed the blonde by the shoulders, "we need to stay calm and come up with a plan."

"Well, do you know where she was going to next?" Duo was obviously frantic, the look in his eyes said it all but he tried to hide the nervousness in his voice.

"I assume she's returning to the southeast, maybe back to Cambodia."

"But Cambodia is huge!" Duo whined, "and what about the other countries down there? She could be as far south as, I don't know, Singapore!"

"Be rational, she would probably go somewhere that actually had a hospital that is somewhat decent. I've seen some of the places in the southeast and believe me there's nothing pretty about them."

"Wufei," Quatre sighed, looking up into the Chinese boy's dark eyes, "I'm really worried, I'm afraid. I don't know where he is," Quatre had the beginnings of tears in his eyes, "I don't know where to find him. What if he needs me? Why would he do this!"

"Quatre, stay calm," Wufei cooed.

"How can I!" Quatre screamed. "Heero has taken Trowa away and none of us know where to! Trowa may need me, and I can't be there!"

"We'll find him, I promise," Duo came up from behind Quatre and gave him and gave him a hug. "For both your sakes."

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Heero didn't remember much Chinese. It had been a few years since his last lesson and a few months since he had dusted off his skills with Wufei. None the less, he was still able to travel through China and Mongolia with little problems.

He had been on three flights since that morning. Normally that wasn't a problem, but having to tow Trowa along with him wasn't easy. Heero picked up a wheelchair at the first airport, then simply never bothered to return it. He felt little guilt pushing Trowa around, knowing how awkward it would be to have to carry him over his shoulder.

By the days end the two found themselves in a tiny inn on the border of Mongolia and Russia. The next morning they'd be leaving at 5 A.M. to reach a town called Izolda, located in the heart of Russia. Heero carefully looked over the information Sally had given him. Everything he needed to do was carefully detailed on the back of an old grocery list.

"I hope the flight wasn't too much for you," Heero said, placing her few bits of baggage on the bed. Of course there was no response from the wheelchair parked in the corner of the room.

"I know you hate me right now," Heero said quietly, "I know the other probably want to see me dead. This is all for the best though Trowa," Heero turned to face his friend, "when this is all over you'll.." but Heero never finished his thought. The expression on his friends face cut him somewhere deep inside.

Trowa simply looked sad. His eyes were drooping and they'd lost their shimmer, he their color was almost a faded gray. His lips were thin and his skin had lost all humanly color. Yet under all that sadness Heero could sense some anger, some resentment burning deep inside and the stoic leader knew it was all directed at him.

Heero put Trowa to bed soon after that and he didn't speak again until the morning.

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"This is unbelieveable, it's like she just dropped off the face of the earth," Wufei looked up from his laptop to see Duo, still clad in his pajamas, with his arm around Quatre. "Sorry Quatre," he said softly, "right now it doesn't look like we have a lot of hope."

"You can't tell me that you've been looking all morning and haven't found a trace of that woman," Duo growled, "it's not like she could have gotten far. You think maybe she's disguised her location so she can help Heero move Trowa?"

"No," Quatre butted in, "Sally wouldn't do that. It wouldn't be like her."

"I agree," Wufei sighed, rubbing his eyes, "I know Sally is the one who suggested the whole thing, but I know she also gave Quatre time to decide what he wanted to do."

"And she wouldn't break that promise to me," Quatre added.

"Well, then my guess is when Heero spoke to her last night he got the name of the place she wanted to take him to and figured he just do the job himself." Duo crossed his arms over his chest.

"Wouldn't surprise me in the least," Quatre said grimly, "but we still need to find Sally so we can learn the name of that place. I'm going to start packing," the blonde got up hastily from the couch.

"All ready?" Wufei asked, "we haven't even found her!"

"When we find out where this place is I don't want to waste a second trying to get to him." Quatre dashed to his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

"I thought after the way he freaked out this morning he'd be a wreck all day," Duo said, getting up from the couch, "coffee, Fei?"

"Sure. Well, remember back before you two went on that half ass mission of yours? You knew he was worried sick over Trowa, but he never once showed it. He's strong, much stronger than what he lets on."

"I've noticed."

"I'm sure right now, yeah, he is scared and worried and hurt but he can't let that interfere. His blind passion and love have taken over all of him and....Duo, is that decaf?"

"Yeah?"

"Who makes decaf in the morning?"

"I usually don't need the caffine, in case you haven't noticed."

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Heero felt as though he'd only slept a little more than a minute when the phone beside his bed rang furiously.

"Wake up call Mr. Yukito," Heero felt dazed as the woman with the Russian accent called him by his false name, "four in the morning, just like you said."

"Thank you," Heero managed to mumble back before he hung up the phone. The room was dark and had an unusual smell to it. The cold northern air burned its way through the layers of thermal tops Heero was wearing and sent chills up and down his spine. Trowa slept soundlessly in his little corner of darkness. Heero felt somewhat saddened as he wandered over to his companion's bed. The cold morning was a fate he would wish upon no one and it was a world he didn't want to wake Trowa up to. But most of all, once Trowa opened his green eyes, his fate would be sealed, and he would be on his way to the center of Russia with no word in edgewise.

The rest of the trip would be in a car on an unpaved road through snowy nothingness. Heero rented a car from a man on the outskirts of the tiny town where they had been staying. The man talked in a broken English, and knew no Japanese. It took Heero almost 20 minutes to figure out what the man was trying to rent to him.

"Schno scar," the man pointed to a tiny, red two seater. "Dive to schno, no schtuck. Vere u goving?"

"Where are we going?" Heero asked.

"Ya, vere? How laun do I vent?"

"We're going to Izolda? Familiar with it?"

"Ya, ya Izolda! Nah to fa, I vent," the man held up six fingers.

"Six hours then?"

"Ya."

There was white everywhere. The snow on the ground, the icy mountain peaks, even the dreary overcast sky. All white, with a blood red dot speeding through it all. Trowa slept the entire trip, completely bundled in every pair of clothing Heero could live without.

Their first sign of the town was a broken sign that read completely in Russian. Heero knew by Sally's note that it was the place.

To say Izolda was a town was the say The Salt Lake was an ocean. The only signs of life was tiny little homes lined up nicely upon the street. Each was decorated in obligatory décor: Snow shoes on the sides of the house, animal carcasses hanging from the roofs, discarded fishing and hunting equipment left unattended as dark haired children played in the snow. Girls with braids and scarves tied about their heads and boys wearing obvious hand-me-down coats and fur caps with flaps over the ears.

They were all amazed at the "schno scar." Heero was aware that there were still places in the modern world where technology was not an everyday occurrence. He wondered if the children would shit their pants if he took them to Tokyo.

At the edge of the backwater mess was a tall building speckled with mirrored black windows. Heero assumed, and hoped, that is was the hospital he was looking for. There were no marked parking spaces, especially on top of the snow, so Heero just parked the car as close as he could to the front. Mostly because the wheelchair was almost impossible to push in the snow.

The inside of the hospital was far from hopeful. The white walls and floor were tinted beige. None of the equipment or furniture had been updated in at least 20 yrs. The scent in the air hung heavily, cold ice mixed with something that made Heero somewhat nauseous. For a moment, he wanted to bolt out the door with Trowa in hand and never look back. A moment, a flash in the pan. But then he remembered why he was here, and with the self delusional thought that he was doing everyone good, Heero rolled Trowa up to the front desk.

"How may I help you?" The nurse asked in near perfect English.

"This morning, hopefully, you got a message from a Miss Sally Po regarding a new patient?"

"Oh yes," the nurse smiled "just one moment please." She was sweet, almost popping out of her dreary backdrop like a rose on a desert plain...

She returned only a second later with a piece of paper in hand and a very large woman behind her. Now this woman looked liked she belonged there. Tall, broad shouldered with dark brooding eyes and a fixed frown on her face.

"This is our Head Nurse, Mrs. Mara Varushka, she'll take care of you now." The beautiful young nurse handed Mara the form in her hand, then bounded away.

Mara quickly scanned it, then looked at her new patient with venom.

"Yesh," her English was not so good, "I know dish well. Miss Sally Po call me a while ago 'bout dish boy."

"So, are you going to admit him or what?" Heero asked, just wanting to get away.

"Yesh, we talk long 'bout it. I take him to special wing of hosh-pill. You no worry 'bout him anymore." She grabbed the handlebars of Trowa's wheelchair. And then it came again, that need to detach himself from everything that was happening. Heero wanted to reach out and push her hands away, take Trowa and run. Take his hand and lift him up and run away together. Go back to the house, go back to the way life used to be.

"Sir?" Mara's voice echoed in Heero's ear. "Sir, ish some-ting wrong?" Heero looked down at his hand and saw that it was tightly grasping Mara's wrist.

"No," Heero whispered, slowly unwrapping his fingers. He couldn't let himself do this, he couldn't become emotionally attached. But Trowa was his friend, they'd been through so much together. But they were both soldiers, and this is what a soldier would do...

"You no worry, really," Mara said flatly, "he in good hands. You go now, go back home."

"Thank you," Heero said quietly. So, that was it. It was all over now, things could try and get back to normal. This was the right thing to do, this was the right thing to do, this was the right thing to do...

He didn't have the balls to look Trowa in the eye. Heero could kill anyone and their mother with his bare hands if he had to, but he couldn't look his own fellow soldier in the eye. He could look his own friend in the eye.

T e sound of a wheelchair rolling down the halls echoed vibrantly as he turned for the front door. Heero got to go home now.

Trowa didn't.

The drive from Izolda back to the hotel felt as though it lasted for days. Silence coupled with the freezing barren landscape.

The hotel was dark. Heero didn't bother to turn on any lights as he packed the last of his things. His flight left that night, he'd be home just before the sunrise. The others would most likely be asleep.

Shit.

Now he had to face those three. He knew what he had done and so did they. And he knew how they were all going to react.

Wufei probably wasn't going to say anything, not right off the bat anyway. Maybe after a few days he'd take Heero aside or make a little comment while they were working about how he felt about the whole thing. But at most it would be very nonchalant and casual.

Duo was going to raise hell. He was going to rant and rave like a madman and there was no way to avoid it.

Quatre though, he was a wild card. He could go either way. The blonde was often known for voicing his opinion on most ideas that came across the table, but sometimes he opted to stay silent, watching and waiting for the right time to take action.

Whatever happened, Heero knew his homecoming was not going to be a welcome one.