Memento [Part Fourteen]

Trowa opened the filing cabinets methodically, making sure to check each file at a time. It was possible that there were a number of files that were not placed into the computer's database and instead were left within the antiquated drawers. It was always safer to check twice. So far, he hadn't come across any relevant information even if he was nice enough not to make a mess. His comrades, however, had taken to sorting through the files like wild animals. He began to wonder what exactly they were looking for. The first commanding words of Heero as they came into the room were 'find it'. Now, if only Heero defined what 'it' was, it could have been easier.

"What were we looking for again?" Duo asked halfway through his ransacking the drawers of a mahogany desk.

"Relevant information," Wufei answered.

"Relevant as in...?"

Wufei stopped for a moment to think before resuming to dig his hands into some unknown stack of papers.

"You don't know what we're supposed to be looking for, do you?" Duo asked derisively.

Trowa heard a sound of disapproval from Wufei and then heard a grunt coming from Heero's direction. He looked to his side to find Heero trying to lift a file cabinet off the ground. It probably weighed a ton. Did he even know what he was looking for?

"Is it necessary that we destroy the place in the process?" Trowa asked, embarrassed about their rude behavior. It wasn't their office after all.

The other three stopped whatever it was they were doing and then looked at him in disbelief.

"This guy isn't so bad," Trowa said, answering their unvoiced question. "I just think it isn't right to cause this much damage when we don't even know what we're looking for."

Still, they didn't understand his point.

"This is supposed to be a clinic and we waited less than three minutes to be lead in here. Don't you think we could at least respect this doctor's space?"

"Point taken," Duo answered. "I was expecting a three hour wait at the least. Maybe we could cut the guy some slack."

Trowa sighed in relief. Why he was trying to protect the doctor, he didn't exactly understand.

"After all," Duo added. "Trowa should know him well enough to judge if he's an honest and respectable guy."

"How would he know that?" Heero asked almost immediately, raising his brow and at the same time giving him a look.

"I met him before," Trowa answered before resuming his earlier task if only to avoid Heero's scrutiny.

"Why wasn't I told?" Heero demanded rather insistently.

"Sheesh," Duo interrupted. "Don't you remember who this guy is? Dr. Marion... Quatre's doctor... ring a bell?"

"Of course not. This is all new information for us," Wufei answered.

Before they could continue further, the door of the office opened to reveal the appalled expression on the doctor's face. Anyone else would have been just as surprised as he was. The office, which was pristine clean when he left now looked like a hurricane had gone through it. Papers were all over the place, drawers were opened, and meticulously arranged folders were now in disarray. Trowa was surprised he didn't scream.

"Gentlemen," the doctor started instead. The anger on his face seemed to dissipate just as quickly as it appeared. Trowa took the chance to study him. If anything, all four of them were almost one hundred percent accurate when it came to reading faces. The man didn't look like he had anything to hide.

"How can I help you?" the doctor continued, choosing to look at Duo. Perhaps he looked the least threatening of all of them. "Are you acquaintances of Quatre perchance?"

Duo made a face, probably feeling awkward about the strange use of words. He scratched his head, looking a bit unsure of himself.

"Uh, how did you know?"

The man smiled at Duo and then began to explain. "One of the nurses recognized Trowa from his visit earlier. She mentioned that he brought a couple of friends over. I'm assuming you are those friends although I've yet to see Trowa."

Duo pointed to the doctor's left shoulder, the exact location were Trowa was. He was the only one out of sight.

"Ah, so you were here after all. How's the bodyguard business doing?"

Trowa would have answered but it all seemed irrelevant now. Quatre seemed to be separate from them, a fleeting job that was no longer necessary. They had long since agreed to give up their jobs as bodyguards. After all, they were orders from Une. She was always the supreme rule around headquarters.

"Fine," Trowa answered.

"Dr. Marion, is it?" Heero interrupted. Trowa studied his face. There was something bothering Heero and he could almost tell by the way his comrade moved in an uneasy gait. It wasn't just about the bad news that kept on coming. It was something more.

"Yes, and you are," the doctor answered, holding out his hand.

Heero chose not to take it and instead crossed his arms to signal that the interrogation was to begin immediately. The doctor didn't seem to mind the rude gesture and instead took a seat in the only usable chair to the far side of the room.

"You sent us a distress signal," Wufei started. "You could start by explaining what you meant."

"I assumed you would have figured it out by yourselves by now," the doctor answered. Oh, he was brave. Absolutely no one ever acted superior when Wufei was questioning them.

"I didn't ask you to assess our abilities or my intelligence for that matter," Wufei answered. "Now, I'm going to ask you straightforward questions and as an intelligent being, I expect you to respond with equally straightforward answers... understood?"

Trowa leaned against the wall. When it came to interrogation, Wufei was the man. He had the ability to make even the elderly scholars respect him despite being years younger than them. They were, without doubt, going to get the answers they needed. The doctor just needed a little nudge.

"Understood."

Trowa smirked. That was easy.

"Why did you send us a distress signal?" Wufei started again. "It was meant for us, wasn't it?"

"Yes, I did send it to you," the doctor answered, looking at each one of them. "I sent it because someone needed help soon."

"Is this someone you're referring to Quatre by any chance?" Wufei asked.

This time, Trowa had to hold his breath. The bad news about his late husband was enough of a burden already. Painful thoughts were constantly leaking into his conscious mind. To find out that there was something wrong with his newfound Quatre was not what he wanted. It was so much for him that it was almost unbelievable. It seemed that whatever superior being out there wanted to make him suffer. Someone out there enjoyed playing with him.

Trowa crossed his fingers behind his back. He hoped it was something else.

"Of course it's about Quatre," the doctor answered. Trowa's reaction was to close his eyes and bump the back of his head against the wall. That was it. He wasn't going to find peace of mind any time soon. He wanted to leave the room but he couldn't. He had a responsibility to stay.

"Quatre has been sick for quite some time now," the doctor started again. "I was hoping at least one of you would have noticed sooner. You might have already noticed the agnosia, his inability to recognize objects or faces. He might be distressed, confused, disoriented... in fact; his memory might be a little shaky."

Duo responded with a revealing 'oh, I get it' but Heero was a different story. Instead of staying quiet like the rest of them did, he punched a hole into the wall behind him and then straightened out his jacket. In his face was a look that halted anyone from commenting.

"Tell me why you didn't tell us sooner," Heero demanded as calmly as he could.

"Because it wasn't time," the doctor answered.

"In other words, you were waiting for his brain to degenerate into minimal levels," Wufei stated with an outraged look on his face.

"Exactly."

That was about all Trowa could take. Without informing anyone that he was through, he left the room and leaned against the wall outside. Was the man just plain sick? What was going on? He knew for sure that he judged the man quite accurately the first time they met. He was clean then and strangely enough even now that he was admitting to a despicable misdeed. Was he just too calm, too good in hiding his intentions or was it the placid professionalism of a cold-blooded criminal?

"You sick bastard," he heard Duo say disbelievingly from inside the office. "I can't believe you could even say that with a straight face. What is wrong with you?"

"Don't judge me too quickly, young man. I'm just a puppet after all. I merely do as the strings pull."

Trowa took his fingers off from his aching head. All of a sudden, the headache was gone. How couldn't it have gone away so fast? He just happened to listen in on the craziest thing he'd ever heard.

"A puppet?" Wufei continued questioning.

At about that time, Trowa had decided to go back in the room to witness Duo shaking his head in a corner. Every now and then he would hear Duo muttering something derogative about Pinocchio or some strange self-dialogue about high amounts of stress making people crazy.

"Yes. I am a marionette, a doll with strings. The name Dr. Marion... it's simply a mnemonic play of words."

"This distress signal, it's not an act of free will, is it?" Wufei asked, his face as straight as it was before the strange revelation.

"Of course not. Even that was planned."

"Who's pulling the strings?" Wufei continued, determined to get to the bottom of it.

"I'm afraid I don't know," the doctor answered. "You see, a puppet can't look up to who's controlling the strings until the master wills the head to raise upward. I simply cannot look up when the strings don't pull that way."

Wufei looked up to them and then grunted.

"That's it for today," he declared. "He can tell us nothing more. I suggest we make better use of our time elsewhere. I've personally been sick of this game even before it started."

Trowa was the first one out, followed by his distraught friends. He didn't look back, just walked all the way to their vehicles while keeping his eyes on the ground. The doctor may have been enthusiastic about being controlled by strings but he was certainly not enjoying his predicament. He too had strings tied to each arm, both pulling just as hard on opposite directions. What was he to do, attempt to piece together the mystery of his unfortunate husband or attend to his seemingly well-replicated replacement?

"You should go see how Quatre is doing," Heero suggested. "We'll handle the reports. We should at least get some rest before we attempt to tackle this case. I'm sure none of you slept last night."

Duo and Wufei nodded their heads and bade their farewell for the time being. Trowa, on the other hand, remained standing in the same place, still looking at the ground.

"Are you going or not?" Heero asked him.

He shrugged. He wasn't really sure.

"Why don't you want to go to him?"

"He doesn't want me near him," Trowa answered simply and then started walking to his car.

"Did you just assume that?" Heero continued even if Trowa was walking away.

"No. He said it himself."

"He didn't say it. You wanted him to say it," Heero responded.

Trowa stopped and sighed. He was tired. "Are we going to go through this again Heero?" he asked, almost as if pleading with Heero to leave him alone.

"I don't know. It depends," was the answer. He could already see Heero's crossed arms as he said it.

"He's not mine, alright," Trowa said and then continued walking. He was surprised to hear nothing else. At that point, he no longer cared if Heero agreed with him or not. He just wanted to get some sleep.

===

"Yeah, I heard you. I'm coming. Just give me a sec."

Trowa shifted his feet while waiting at the front door of Lara's house. He didn't know what possessed him to come. Quatre had already told him that they were better off if they didn't see each other. He agreed to it verbally but never told him it was harder said than done. He had to wonder how Quatre would react if he saw him again.

"Oh, Trowa, come in," Lara greeted. She was dressed in her office clothes but didn't seem to be on her way out any time soon. She looked a bit distressed and hurried.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, sensing her nervous tension as she led him in.

"Unfortunately, yes," she answered. "I haven't been able to leave Quatre alone for so long," she said. "He might be coming down with something. He hasn't been able to move around since last week."

Trowa nodded. He already feared the worst. Hopefully, Quatre looked better than he was beginning to imagine.

"Please excuse him," she warned him before he made it all the way to Quatre's room. "He's a little difficult to deal with right now, especially since his depression is sinking in. I was hoping you could come sooner to make him feel better but what's important is that you're here now. I was also trying to convince him to have a doctor check him. Maybe you could help to convince him?"

It sounded like she was counting on him. In fact, everyone was counting on him to make Quatre feel better. He was a bit upset. Shouldn't he have someone to do the same for him as well? He had so much difficulty to deal with for quite some time now. He needed someone to be there for him too.

"I shouldn't think about that," Trowa murmured to himself.

He opened the door to the room and was pleasantly surprised to find that the sticky notes that had once filled the room were now gone. Not one trace of them could be seen from where he was standing. What he didn't find pleasant however, was the same lump on the bed that looked thinner and thinner every time he saw him.

Trowa remembered what the doctor had said although he didn't know the details of it. Perhaps the body did eventually deteriorate when the mind could no longer sustain it. His poor Quatre, he looked so fragile.

"Quatre," he started in a whisper. "I just wanted to check up on you. I know I promised I wouldn't come anymore but I just had to, for a little while."

Quatre didn't say anything but instead oriented his head toward him. His face looked calm and very tired but there were droplets of tears streaming down his face. The tears looked misplaced since his face said nothing to explain the tears.

"Why are you crying?" Trowa asked, coming closer to the bed and then taking his seat at the edge. He couldn't resist it, the urge to reach his hand out, so he did. As gently as he could, he wiped the tears from the edge of Quatre's eyes with his thumb. With his other hand, he pushed back the wisps of hair on his face. It felt right somehow.

"I don't know," Quatre answered. "I just feel sad but I don't know why."

Trowa presumed it must have been the side effects of his disease. He knew they had to act quickly and get Quatre to a specialist, preferably someone who wasn't crazy.

"Do you feel up to standing so you could change? We should see a doctor right away," Trowa said, continuing to stroke his hair. To hell with his proclamation that Quatre wasn't his.

"I don't know. I don't know if I should go with you," Quatre answered. "I don't even know you."

It hurt. It hurt every time but he was used to it by now. There was still the little ache that nudged at him but at the moment, it wasn't important.

"But don't you feel that you trust me just a little bit?" Trowa said, still trying to convince Quatre that they really needed to get to the hospital quickly. He was no expert in diseases of any kind but he was sure Quatre looked too sick, too pale to be left alone in the bed.

"I guess," Quatre answered, rubbing his fisted hands against his eyes as he yawned. "Hmm, I'm so sleepy though," he continued.

"Adorable," Trowa whispered to himself.

Before he could convince Quatre one more time, his phone went off. Quatre's response was to scream quite suddenly in terror. Trowa could do nothing but rub his arm with one hand and use the other to hold the phone up to his ear.

"Duo," he said dryly.

"Geez man, what are you doing to him?" Duo's voice said from the other end of the line.

"The loud interruption frightened him," Trowa answered. "Is there anything important you need to tell me?"

"Yeah. Remember the shopping list of medications we had to pick up for Quat from his last visit?"

"Yes."

"Sally recognized some of them."

"And..."

"It's obvious enough. They weren't supposed to make him feel better. They're supposed to make it worse."

Trowa turned off his phone. They needed to go see a real doctor fast. He held Quatre's shoulders at arm's length and tried to calm him down.

"Quatre," he said, the urgency of the matter mixing in with the worry. "I need you to help me here," he asked, almost pleading.

Quatre stopped shaking and slowly looked up to his face, an ounce of recognition beginning to show itself.

"Let's go, okay?"

"Can't," Quatre answered, dropping his head on Trowa's shoulder. "It's not time yet."