Memento [Part Six]
It wasn't all that difficult. It was just a little strange. So far, all he'd done was pick-up Quatre and take him to his doctor. The only small detail that wasn't mentioned earlier was the length of time it would take to get there. So, there he was, on a subway, standing and faced away from Quatre. He was thinking about different things but it wasn't long before he pondered once again on his favorite topic. There was certainly nothing more significant in Trowa's mind than his current situation.
He looked over to the other side of the packed subway. There he was, the object of his devoted love and unparalleled hate all at once. There were some similarities but the differences were quite striking now that he took a moment to study Quatre's features. The man was short or at least shorter than him. He was thin. His eyes weren't as huge as he thought and his skin was so pale one would think that he was a ghost. It was probably because he was sick but it still didn't explain much. He had blonde hair but it wasn't as thick as he initially thought it was. It was parted to the left and it was combed back, leaving his face open for the world to see. He had bad taste in clothing. For that, Trowa was sure.
Then, he thought about his missing husband. Quatre was short but not much shorter than him. He was skinny but he began working out with him every morning so his form filled out a bit more over the years. His eyes were awfully huge and were hidden behind long strands of thick blonde hair that looked so light and feathery that he could almost touch it. He had excellent taste in clothing. He was healthy, able to hold up to disease much more than he could. He was sweet but not overly done and he was perfect the way he was.
Trowa looked again at the new guy. Upon closer inspection he noted that he may have just been seeing things the first time he saw the man. He was nothing like his Quatre aside from having a similar name. He had the same hair and the same eyes but that was it. The only thing notable about him was the fact that he was the most fragile guy Trowa ever came across. He grimaced.
"He isn't that ugly son. I'm sure you'll get used to him. Remember, looks aren't everything."
Trowa raised his eyebrow in question. Apparently, the old lady he was standing in front of was observing him observe Quatre. He must have looked like he was trying to burn a hole through Quatre's skull the way he was staring at his turned head.
"I said give it a try lad! You never know what you're rejecting before you try it out."
He felt foolish but just nodded his head instead to the old lady's advice. He was lucky that Quatre wasn't paying attention. He didn't know how he would explain himself when asked if he thought that Quatre looked ugly. It would have been rude and impolite.
"We're almost there," Quatre turned to him and then looked back to his side of the window which was facing the scenery outside. The voice was deeper now that he thought about it. It wasn't as high as he remembered his husband's voice to be.
"Just tell me when we have to get off," he answered and closed his eyes. At least when he did so, he didn't have to deal with spying on the new guy behind his back. It would have been too obvious.
"We're here," Quatre said not very long after he closed his eyes. "Hurry up before we get trampled over by the oncoming passengers."
He followed him out and kept silent. It wasn't like he was required to start up a conversation with him anyway. All he had to do was take him to the doctor and take him back.
"Why are you following behind me?" Quatre said all of a sudden. "Don't tell me you're ashamed to be seen with me." He said it with a smile.
"Of course not," Trowa muttered in response and caught up with him.
They walked a block or two, still in silence but neither of them seemed to mind. It wasn't until they reached a demolished area that Quatre stopped to look. It took Trowa a while to notice that his companion had stopped so he walked back a few steps.
"Anything wrong?" he asked casually although Quatre seemed to be concerned about the demolished site.
"I used to live here," Quatre answered with indifference. "That was, before they blew it up. I can't believe they blew up all my stuff. I could have made use of some of those things."
Trowa nodded, not knowing what to say. Perhaps Quatre felt more disappointed than he was letting out. After all, his home was taken away from him, he had to halt his job and he was now a nomad moving from place to place to avoid the people who were after his life. He always knew it was hard to be Quatre. He saw first hand how his husband was always burdened with being just who he was. He figured that this other Quatre had it harder since it wasn't him they were really after. He was just a normal man cursed with the name and looks of a popular politician.
"Let's get going," Quatre said, snapping him out of another one of his musings. "My doctor's clinic is a little further from here. It'll take us a few more minutes."
It didn't take them very long to get to the clinic. Trowa didn't even notice the time pass by. Quatre didn't comment on the silence and just hummed to himself the whole way there.
"Quatre, it's been a while! How have you been?"
Trowa was surprised to hear the immediate greeting the moment they walked into the door. It was obvious that the man was a frequent visitor the way he picked up every disease probably known to man.
"Good morning! I've been great. Well, a little busy but still great. This is Trowa. He's supposed to be watching out for me," Quatre said.
"Ahh, the new bodyguard I see," the attendant in bright animal prints said. "I hope you've been treating Quatre well."
Trowa didn't get to answer because Quatre did it for him.
"He's been doing a good job and so
have the others."
"More than one body guard, hmm? It looks like you're a big shot now Quatre."
"Not really," Quatre answered. "So, is Dr. Marion available today?"
"Yup, just go in. He's ready to see you."
Quatre walked into the doors leading to the rooms and Trowa walked right behind him as if he were his shadow. Quatre didn't notice he was following until he took a step back to look into one of the empty rooms and bumped the back of his head into Trowa's face.
"Oops! Sorry about that. I didn't think that you'd follow me in here."
"Standard procedure," Trowa answered although he knew that there wasn't such a thing when it came to doctor's visits. He just wanted to make sure that nobody was after his life while he was in there.
"Okay then."
They didn't have to wait long in the room because the doctor came right away. Trowa didn't know what kind of magical clinic it was if they didn't have to wait long hours to see the doctor and wait for him for another few hours to come. It was like a fairytale doctor's clinic. Maybe Quatre had top priority.
"Nice to see you again Quatre," the doctor said when coming in. He smiled at his patient and nodded to Trowa in greeting, probably finding out from the attendant outside just who he was. "You haven't been coming for your regular check-ups. I was worried but you're here now. So, let me do a little check-up and let's see what the problem is."
What followed was a long conversation, a little stethoscope probing here and there and a very vivid view of Quatre's bare back. He was hoping to get a view of the front to check for the infamous Dorothy Catalonia scar but opted to stay where he was seated instead. It wouldn't do to peek into his half-open shirt. That was Duo's job.
What he did notice with apprehension was the faint scar that ran through Quatre's back, probably continuing on to his stomach. It wasn't very visible but it was still too striking not to notice. Trowa wondered about the cause of such injury. He wanted to ask for the reason once they were alone together but he decided to leave the topic alone for the meantime. It wasn't very nice to pry into other people's business after all.
"Have you gone to see Lara yet?"
Trowa's ears picked up on the name. As far as he knew, Quatre had never mentioned the name before.
"No. I haven't seen her since she got this organization to watch over me. She must be busy with that new research she has," Quatre answered while buttoning up his shirt.
"I see. I'll make sure to tell her you were here. She'll be coming in for her check-up during the weekend."
"Thanks doctor."
"Anytime," he said and then handed Quatre what looked like a grocery list. "Make sure that you pass by the pharmacy to pick those up. They should keep the symptoms down for a while."
Trowa followed Quatre out into the waiting area and then out the door. His mood was slightly different from the clam indifference he was experiencing earlier in the morning and was replaced with that of unease. He couldn't pinpoint what triggered his distress which in turn made him more restless than he already was. Finding no other way to release the tension, he began a conversation with Quatre. It wasn't a very intelligent one but at least it was something to distract him.
"So, have you always been unhealthy?" he asked without looking at Quatre.
"Yeah. I've been this way since childhood and it usually drove my friends nuts. I couldn't come out to play often," Quatre said while kicking the small rocks that were littered on the sidewalk.
"Your parents must have been worried all the time."
"You know what; I don't really remember my parents all that much. It's as if I never met my mother but I've been told my father raised me."
"You remember none of this?" Trowa asked, finding it strange. He also grew up without a family of his own but at least he had the memories of his childhood intact.
"Huh? Oh, not really. I tend to draw out blanks sometimes. My doctor tells me it's probably from the high fever I had a few years back. It jogs my memory a bit."
"So, who's Lara?" Trowa asked all of a sudden.
Quatre stopped walking and then looked at him. Trowa didn't really know why. If he asked something wrong then he wasn't aware of it.
"I was assuming you met her already!" Quatre said, looking quite surprised. "She was the person who put me in your organization. You haven't met her?"
Trowa shrugged.
"I guess I'll just have to tell you. Lara's a really good friend of mine."
"Some friend she is," Trowa muttered. "Throwing you into the hands of strangers really doesn't help your current problem."
The next thing Trowa saw was a fist aiming straight for his face. The rest became a blur as he struggled to find out just which part of his last sentence was offensive.
===
Catherine was busy cleaning out her closet when she heard the knock on her door. When she asked who was there, all she received was a grunt. Without asking for any more details, she swung the trailer door open to find Trowa looking down on his shoes.
"Trowa? What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to pull him inside.
"He hit me Cathy!" Trowa said, looking up and pointing to the forming bruises on his face.
"Who hit you?" she asked. A look of horror was on her face.
"The look-alike," Trowa said. "The look-alike I was talking about on the phone earlier."
Catherine's response was to laugh while still trying to console him by patting his back.
"I'm glad you're entertained but I don't find it funny."
Trowa crossed his arms and looked away from her but it did take her a few more seconds to regain her composure. When she was done with her fit, she went for the kitchen to get Trowa a cup of tea. It usually calmed him down whenever he came for his problems.
"Some help you are," Trowa said as she left him. He sat in the living room and waited.
"Don't get angry at me now. I was just going to get you a drink. Honestly Trowa, I've never seen you this childish before. Are you sure Quatre just hit you without saying why. You must have done something."
"That's the problem. He didn't tell me why he was mad. What was I supposed to do, read his mind?"
"Really Trowa, sometimes you could be an insensitive jerk."
"What? So I'm the bad guy now?"
Trowa was glad that he could complain. When he was at work and around people, he always had to be composed. He didn't dare act like an immature child in front of anybody. It was Cathy's job to witness it and he took advantage of that fact. Whenever he felt like crying, complaining or breaking down, he always came to her.
"Won't they look for you at the office?" Cathy said, carrying a cup of warm tea into the living room. She placed it on the coffee table in front of Trowa and took a seat across from him.
"Sure. Go back to work and face the crowd. They're never going to get over it once they see the bruises on my face. What should I do, act cool when everybody finds out the skinny new guy beat the crap out of me?"
"Isn't that supposed to be your expertise?"
"Very funny."
He sat back on the couch and sipped his tea. Perhaps Catherine would be able to understand him more than his friends. After all, she was objective, the only one he knew who didn't have a very good familiarity with Quatre. Heero, Duo and Wufei were out of the question since they've worked with him and were much closer to him that they would care to admit.
"I'm so confused it's probably going to drive me to insanity," he started. "At first I thought that he resembled Quatre a lot. His hair and his eyes were just unmistakably his. There was something drawing me to him and I didn't know what."
Catherine shifted in her seat a bit but still paid attention to what he was saying. It wasn't unusual for him to come to her several times, especially after Quatre's disappearance a while back. At least this time, he was just confused and not close to devastation.
"But when I started to work with him, I started to hate him to the point of making sure that I wasn't anywhere near him. Last week he started to get on my nerves the way he got sick all the time. Then this morning, I noticed how his eyes were too small and his face was a little too old, a little too mature. His voice is too deep and his hair is all wrong."
"Sounds like grown-up Quatre. Think about it, Quatre three years older."
Trowa looked at her as if she grew a second head.
"What? Haven't you thought about it?"
"I can't believe you think he's Quatre. This guy is nothing like him. They just have the same name and that's it. He's not sweet and not even the least bit apologetic."
Catherine smiled before leaning forward and poking his nose. His reaction was to scratch it and look at her in question.
"Trowa, I was just saying what you wanted to hear. It's already obvious that you want this guy to be him."
"Is it wrong to wish so?"
"Who said it was?"
Trowa eyed her with apprehension.
"What are you trying to say?" he asked.
Catherine sighed before starting her little lecture. It always helped to point things out to him.
"Trowa, it doesn't matter if he's Quatre or some other guy who happened to have the same name and the same hair color. Just be nice. I'm sure that if he is Quatre and he's just trying to hide it, he'll tell you in time and I'll personally castrate him for putting you through all this. If he isn't then don't blame him for not being able to fill in the gap."
He nodded and sipped his tea again. It was conceivable that his obsession with trying to find Quatre drove him to the revulsion of those that belonged in the opposite category. Cathy was right. The guy didn't deserve his wrath.
"On a lighter note, you were jealous weren't you?"
Trowa sputtered his tea all over the coffee table. It was the last question he expected her to ask.
"Wha... Where did that come from?"
"It was all over you face when you came in through the door. So, did you insult his girlfriend in any way?"
Trowa quickly picked up a napkin from the kitchen and came back to wipe his mess. He didn't even consider it until Cathy mentioned it. It was like she had some kind of psychic power.
"For your information, she's his good friend, not girlfriend."
"So, I was right. Come on! Tell me the details."
"I haven't met her yet," Trowa said before sitting back and crossing his arms. The truth was that he didn't even want to meet her. "I just commented on this 'good friend's' lack of common sense and he hit me. What was I supposed to do, tell him I wanted to meet her so she could smack me in person?"
"You're such a baby."
He wasn't able to counter because before he could speak, the phone rang. He waited for her to take the call and come back to discuss the matter further. What he didn't expect was for the call to be his. He cursed something under his breath when she called for him and he reluctantly made his face visible over the vid-phone.
"What do you want Duo?"
"Look at you, beaten by the baby. I knew you'd be embarrassed and run away to the circus."
"What do you want?" Trowa repeated.
"Sheesh, someone's really not in the mood for peaceful talk right now. I just wanted to tell you that we're picking you up in a few minutes. Something came up. I'll talk to you later."
The line went dead and Trowa was left to wonder what that something was. It was too bad since he wanted to stay at Catherine's place a little longer. He thought about visiting again soon. She did make a point in her little lecture. For now he just had to be nice, as nice as he could possibly muster.