Memento [Part Fifteen]

They were loud even after they convinced him to get some rest while they handled matters. It wasn't that they were inconsiderate; they were just trying too hard to whisper. It was getting annoying. Sometimes, talking normally sounded much better than poorly controlled whispers. Trowa could hear them so well he began to wonder if they really intended for him to get some rest.

"What is it? Heero, I'm pretty sure you know something and you're just not telling us. Spill it."

Trowa shifted position. It was apparent that Duo noticed something strange about Heero as well. If he wasn't going to get any decent sleep, at least he was going to hear some useful information. It was always difficult to ask Heero direct questions but Duo was an expert at it. If there was anyone who could get it out of him, it would be Duo.

"I suggest you do as the man says or we're not leaving this place until we hear it."

Wufei was in on it too. Trowa's interest in the matter heightened. This was something big. Perhaps he wasn't the only one to notice Heero's unease. His comrade's calm disposition was replaced with an unusually tense posture that could only mean something was not going well. He only wondered how long ago since the others noticed.

"You'd rather not hear it from me right now," Heero answered in a somewhat irritated tone. "Besides, we have enough problems on our hands already."

"Oh, so we're dealing with the Quatre here, aren't we?" Duo asked.

Trowa's ears picked up on the conversation. Duo was good. He led Heero right into it.

"Are we?" Wufei added.

Trowa shifted his position yet again.

"We both know that I wasn't the last person to talk to him Heero," Duo said in that knowing tone he liked using. "You and Quat could be such a pain sometimes, keeping things to yourselves. What was so important that you two had to make that last communication private?"

"How come I wasn't aware of this?" Wufei cut in before Heero could answer. He practically echoed Trowa's concern.

"Wu, let's do this one by one. Grill Heero first and then me, okay?"

"Fine."

"I'd rather not," Heero insisted.

Trowa had to hold his breath. There had been something Heero had been hiding from him. He wondered what it was that Quatre told him. It might have had something to do with that damnable day. That was the only reason why Heero could have withheld information from them.

"Can't you tell me anything?" Duo pleaded with him. "There must be at least something you could tell us."

There was a short pause. Trowa could almost feel Heero giving in.

"Fine, only one thing," Heero answered. "He told me to take care of Trowa."

Trowa sat up from his reclined position on the couch. That only meant one thing.

"Damn it," Duo exclaimed, punching his fist on the first hard surface it came into contact with. "Quatre knew, didn't he? I knew it! There was no way he didn't see it coming. He knew all along but he didn't get his ass out of there."

"Don't tell me he decided it on his own," Wufei said. He sounded confused and incredulous at the same time. "What was he thinking? I remember his words exactly - there is always an alternate solution to every problem. There should have been some other way."

"There was none," Heero responded although he didn't look like he believed what he said.

They had yet to notice the observant Trowa whose fists were slowly closing in and out in barely contained anger. He had chosen to remain quiet but had taken to watching them pace around the linoleum floor. It angered him to find that Quatre had deliberately put himself in danger. It was never an option. They had discussed it several times before.

Trowa shook his head in disbelief. Even he had promised Quatre that he would never do such a thing. It was a pact, an agreement between the two of them. He always trusted Quatre to get himself out of trouble without his interference. Attracting trouble to oneself to save another from danger was not an option simply because there was always an alternative.

Never had he broken that promise even during the most terrifying instances when deadly weapons were held directly at Quatre's head. He had always stayed calm despite his worry and trusted his friends to take care of his spouse. There were even nights when he couldn't sleep, watching Quatre's chest rise and fall as if the public speeches he had to give would be his downfall.

"We need details here," Duo said, snapping Trowa out of his thoughts.

Heero hesitated again. "Believe me, I would tell you," he answered. "But there's something I have to figure out first."

"Aha! You just set yourself up for another round of questioning buddy," Duo said. "What exactly are you trying to figure out?"

Before the questioning could go any further, Trowa stood up and with a loud fist against his palm, let his presence be known. He knew he looked livid. The look on their faces confirmed that. No one dared to say a word and it was fine with him. They were done talking as far as he knew. It was his turn. Instead of asking questions, he looked at each of them in the eyes and dictated his command.

"I want every single person who knows even the most miniscule detail about that incident in this room in five minutes. I don't care what they're doing. I want them here."

"You mean, uh, Une and all of them?" Duo managed to ask.

"I said 'all'," Trowa reiterated in a deadly calm voice. "As long as you think they know something, they better be here."

Within seconds, they were gone. Trowa took a seat in one of the empty chairs. Slowly, his body seemed to calm down as if sitting was the most relaxing thing in the world. It must have been his body's response to his earlier rise in blood pressure or it may have simply been a quick break before he released the rest of his anger.

Quatre had betrayed his trust, he thought again, and so had Heero. The result of that betrayal was worth years of agony he could not even begin to describe. Far from his mind were the details of what Quatre must have gone through. He was stubborn that way. He was selfish too. He didn't concede, however, and continued his selfish assessment of the incident he'd imagined many times before. It was his turn to react, his turn to be true to what he really felt. Saying that he was concerned was a lie but displaying his sincere anger was genuine. He felt it was the right reaction.

"Quick! Get in there already," Duo's voice echoed from the hallways. At least they were doing as told. Fear was a useful tool sometimes. It drove people to work harder.

"No, not that room...It's the room across."

It was like delivering a herd of lambs to slaughter; the way his friends lead the unsuspecting people. It was a shame they didn't know how he felt. That would have at least helped them understand that what he needed was information, not sympathy. Sympathy could always wait for a more appropriate time, preferably when his feelings have been sorted out.

"Warning... Trowa's pissed and we all know that a calm and angry Trowa is five times worse than an angry and screaming Wufei."

Ah, Duo was kind enough to warn them. Too bad it wasn't going to do them any good.

Trowa turned his head toward the door and then looked at the large wall clock. It wasn't even five minutes. He was satisfied to find that they were taking him seriously.

"Sit and talk," Trowa said right away without taking the chance to check his guests for the afternoon. He placed his folded hands on top of the table and then looked at the ring finger on his left hand. It was adorned with the ever-present reminder. He felt a sudden urge to touch it.

"I've told you everything we discovered in the investigation. If you want to find out anything else, you'll have to ask more specifically."

Trowa nodded. He suspected that Noin would be the first to talk but he didn't anticipate her nervous, almost calculated manner of speaking.

"Is the body really him?" Duo asked carefully. He too wanted to get to the bottom of it. It was as hard on him as it was hard on all of them. It just happened that Duo knew the right questions to ask.

"It's him," Sally answered without hesitation. The answers seemed cold but that was what he wanted. It was the mood he set-up ever since they set foot in the room. "It is him without a doubt," she reiterated.

Trowa looked up to meet her eyes, to confirm that the sincerity being delivered through her voice was also present in those orbs. He could instantly tell if they were lying with one look and he was sure she wasn't lying.

"This isn't it. It can't be."

The sounds of creaking chairs indicated that everyone shifted in their seat. Only, no one would have expected that they'd be turning their eyes toward Heero. If anyone should have said it, it should have been Trowa.

"Perhaps you should elaborate on that unless you want these people to think you're being uncharacteristically emotional," Wufei interjected. The confusion was cleared all of a sudden. It seemed that Wufei had been the only one who understood Heero's words. There was more to it than they thought.

"The engineer... he is Quatre."

Trowa massaged his aching head. He hoped for two things at the same time - that Heero could back up his statement and also that he couldn't. It was complicated and it was aggravating. If there was evidence that the engineer was their Quatre then it would bring them relief. At the same time, it would create a second riddle they'd have to solve. After all, having two Quatres at once wasn't at all possible. Only one of them had to be the real one.

"Heero buddy, I know we're all attached to our sickly, skinny engineer but don't you think maybe that we need a little more evidence. We had him checked and the genes just don't match up."

"It's a feeling," Heero answered and Duo couldn't find a way to tell him that it wasn't enough.

Sure, it wasn't enough but Trowa could tell that all of them trusted Heero's instincts when it came to Quatre. It was something Trowa would never admit to being jealous of but it was the truth. Heero could always tell Quatre's condition just by simply thinking about him.

"You do have such excellent skills when it comes to zero-four, zero-one."

Trowa almost wished Une didn't say that out loud but at least she was giving an indication that she knew something else.

"It is zero-four."

If Trowa were crazy enough, he would have throttled Une for not saying it sooner. However, since he was calmer than he was a few minutes ago, he thought it wise to leave her alone during her zero mode. If she wasn't using their first names then it was an indication that she was dead serious.

"Then that means..."

Images of his last visit with that same engineer came to mind quickly. Quatre wasn't doing so well and in fact was bad enough that they feared the worst of him.

"But the blood tests and all those different tests," Duo started, voicing out all their questions.

"I only know one thing for certain," Une answered. "It is him without a doubt."

Trowa bolted out the door before anyone could stop him. The details about Quatre's quasi-existence were incomplete but it didn't matter. For the time being, he was able to hear the one information he was interested in. Quatre's whereabouts were finally revealed. It didn't matter if there were two impossible truths to his existence. Whether he indeed was the sickly replica or the mutilated body wasn't his concern at all. All he needed was a responsive face to voice out his frustrations to.

"Barton," Wufei said, the voice stopping him before he could exit headquarters completely. "It's too soon. You will regret going now when you could have sorted it out in your head first. You haven't even heard the whole story. We can't conclude that it really is him from this little information we have."

"I don't need to," Trowa answered while hurrying to his intended destination. "I already heard what I needed to."

===

Trowa opened the door to Quatre's room, his third attempt at getting him out of his own bed and into a hospital. Nothing could describe his mix of anger and desperation aside from the grim expression on his face. His last few stabs at getting Quatre to at least stand up were fruitless. Even the others had failed and in addition had received cranky retorts and unreasonable behavior from their supposed friend. Trowa had enough of it.

"I'm coming in," he announced before opening the door. He had an empty suitcase in hand. "Let's go," he said simply and waited for a positive response. When he heard none, he looked sternly at the ill and seemingly decrepit man lying on the bed. It was hard to believe it was his husband.

Quatre looked sullen; his former vigor with throwing things around had gone down only to be replaced with an unlikely stupor. He was sick alright. His eyes were sunken and he looked worse than he did a few hours ago if at all possible.

"Damn it Quatre! Get up from the bed. I'm taking you to the hospital whether you like it or not."

Still, there was no answer or even a reaction that at least gave him a hint of whether or not he was being heard. It was like talking to a stone wall. Quatre didn't even blink.

"Fine, I might as well pack your things while you stare at the ceiling."

With barely controlled vexation, he opened up the empty suitcase and began stuffing Quatre's clothes in rather carelessly. Piece after piece of clothing was dumped unceremoniously in the bag that it was as if the task was an unbearable chore for him. With every shirt or random sock that was put in, Trowa's anger and resentment grew further. With so much force that wasn't meant to be delivered to a cotton shirt, he slammed each innocuous piece in one at a time.

"You don't have to be so forceful," Quatre whispered all of a sudden.

The voice seemed to be the key to open the floodgates to his temper. Setting aside his task, he looked up to meet Quatre's eyes. He didn't know what evil had possessed him and yet he knew that he had the right to feel the way he did. It was stupid. His years of mourning culminated at a simple answer that neither gave him conclusion nor ended his sorrow. It simply eroded his deeply embellished relationship with his so-called deceased spouse.

With a sudden brutality that he thought he could never carry out with the one person he treasured the most, he stood up and then slammed his tight fists on either side of Quatre's head. The bed shook with the impact and caused Quatre's head to jump and land somewhere near his fisted right hand. Quatre didn't even blink.

"There must be at least something you remember," Trowa screamed with a voice he didn't know he possessed. "All those wasted years and you forget the one thing that matters the most. You forgot the story of us. Somehow you've got to get it into that head of yours that we were once married. I loved you for God's sake and no matter how I say it you won't understand a damn thing if you don't remember anything about us."

Trowa felt his face turn red as if all his blood decided to rise to his head to support the internal rage he couldn't completely release. Despite his attempts to control it, he failed to maintain his calm and had taken to screaming every single word that came out of his mouth. Anyone else would have been terrified but Quatre was strangely clam, expressionless even.

"You can't possibly imagine..." Trowa continued with tears starting to pour down his face. It was like talking to a random stranger who couldn't empathize with him.

"I'm sorry but I don't remember anything. I don't know you," Quatre answered quite sincerely but it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear.

Trowa withdrew from his position and sat down on the floor to begin arranging the pieces of clothing he had already ruined in his outburst. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. To have actually been so cruel towards an ailing, defenseless man was unthinkable. He felt foolish but not sorry enough to apologize. He was still crying but chose to keep the rest of his unusual emotionality to himself.

Little by little he picked up and arranged any random material he could get his hands on. Some of them were torn but it didn't matter. He wasn't even thinking anymore, just doing the job as mechanically as he could. It wasn't that hard to do considering that the only other person in the room was neither talking nor moving. Quatre's condition was serious, it was obvious enough but that wasn't his utmost concern at the moment.

He felt Quatre shift and his reaction was to sigh. He shouldn't have come in the first place. Wufei was right. The others may have been more suited to handle the situation. Perhaps someone else could convince Quatre that he needed to get off the bed.

Trowa stood up, the still undone job left on the floor. Without saying anything, he walked to the door intending to leave right away. However, after he'd successfully turned the knob, he heard a hoarse whisper that forced him to look at the owner of the voice.

"This must be my punishment," Quatre said carefully while looking at him. "This must be my punishment for forgetting something that important."

Trowa didn't know what to say and simply walked out of the room and then shut the door. When he stepped out, he wasn't surprised to find three shocked faces staring at him as if he'd murdered someone. He expected it, their rightful judgment. Instead of denying his evil he walked away with a last note.

"We were never flawless you know," he said while walking away. "We did use to fight. You should check one of those tapes embedded in his gut. I'm sure whoever was responsible for this managed to record those instances as well."

Those were his exact words but that didn't mean that the heartless statement didn't make him shudder inside.