Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or its characters. I don't mean for Trowa to sound like an irresponsible twit, it's just how I think the guy would react if two things he cared about were taken away. . .artistic license, ya know? I wrote this chapter and the next on my trip to Washington D.C. so I might not have paid too much attention to it, so don't sue me if it sounds kinda boring. . .I was busy making sure the Police didn't find me. Er, I mean, taking tours. . .heh. .
Chapter 9
"Have you spotted them yet?" Chris asked a clown that was walking by as he read a newspaper.
"By the corn dog stand eating. There's a woman with them, sir." The clown said, pausing to fix his balloons.
"A woman, eh? A bow, perhaps?" Chris cocked an eyebrow, flipping to the next page and scanning it.
"Don't know, there's not much conversation going on. Should I make any moves?"
"Sure, but be careful, don't be too obvious." The clown skipped away as Chris folded up his paper and looked up at the sky with a smile.
Another distraction, this'll be easier than I thought. Chris thought to himself as he put on some shades, tucked the paper under his arm, and strolled away from the bench, fading into the crowd.
"Daddy, look, balloons! May I have one?" Precious pleaded as the clown walked by.
"Sure, go ahead." Trowa said, giving her a dollar as she hopped over to the balloon man. He stopped and smiled at her, handing her a pink balloon and saying, "Here you go, little girl."
"Thank you!" She chirped, handing him the money and skipping back to her father. The clown continued on and didn't look back, saying quietly, "Done."
"Daddy, can we go on more rides now? Please?" Precious bounced eagerly at his side as he picked up the remains of their meal, saying, "Sure, but nothing too wild, you just ate."
"Okay, how about. . .that one!" Precious pointed to a mirror maze and Trowa looked warily at it.
"I don't know. . ." Trowa said.
"Oh don't worry, she won't get lost, and I'll make sure she doesn't!" Hope said cheerfully.
"Well, uh. . .I. . .I guess. . ."
"YAY! Let's go, let's go!" Precious pulled on Hope's hand and they raced toward the amusement ride, Trowa lagging behind yelling for her to slow down. Precious impatiently bobbed up and down while Trowa paid and shot into the ride like a rocket as soon as she was allowed.
"Precious!" Trowa called out.
"Don't worry, I'll find her!" Hope jumped in after her and disappeared into the maze of mirrors. Trowa quickly pursued them and immediately got lost.
I don't like this, I can't see them. . .Trowa thought to himself.
"Hope, where are you? Daddy?" Precious turned around, finding herself in a dead end. She backtracked a ways but found herself in an endless circle of walls. She tried not to panic, calmly calling out for the two adults she was with.
"Precious, where are you?" Hope called out, hearing her voice as she made her way through the maze.
"Hopey, I'm here!" They finally followed each other into a dead end where they met up and hugged.
"Yay, I found you! Where's my daddy?" Precious said, looking up.
"I don't know, I think he got lost back there." Hope said, giggling with Precious.
"Oops, my balloon!" Precious lost her grip of the string and the balloon floated up toward the roof.
"Oh, it's going to-" Hope reached for it, seeing some jagged tiles it was heading for, but it was too late. With a resounding pow, releasing a strange scent into the air.
"What's that smell?" Precious said, wrinkling her nose momentarily before swaying and moaning.
"It's. . .it's sleep. . .ing gas. . .?" Hope said slowly, falling to her knees with Precious as they crumbled to the floor.
What was that sound? Oh no. . .where are they? Trowa began to panic as he ran quickly around the maze, trying to find his way out of the maze. Finally, he came to a dead end and found remains of the pink balloon laying on the floor. He backed away from the area, sensing an odor in the air as he covered his nose.
"No. . .not them too. . ." Trowa ran with all his might out of the maze, coming to a sharp halt as he looked around frantically for any signs of the kidnappers. Sweating, Trowa yelled, "PRECIOUS! HOPE! WHERE ARE YOU! PRECIOUUUUS!"
"So. . .Michael, is it? If you let me go, I can take you to your sister and-" Rachel tried to reason with her kidnapper.
"No, I'm not going to let you fool me into some trap, I'm not that stupid." Michael said, brushing back some loose red locks as he plopped down in a chair adjacent to her seat on the couch.
"I didn't even know you existed, let alone had time to devise a trap, so how could there be one for me to lead you into?" Rachel queried tiresomely, leaning her cheek on her palm as she rested an elbow of the arm of the couch.
"You're the one with the powers, you tell me." He stared at her with his intense eyes again and she looked away, getting nervous. He cocked an eyebrow and said curiously, "Why do you always look away when I stare at you? Are you afraid your true intentions will show in your eyes?"
"No, I'm not." Rachel said, looking distraught. He stood, walking over to her slowly as he said in a lower voice, "Then why. . .tell me, or I'll. . ."
"No, stay away, I don't want to hurt you but I will if you force me to!" Rachel said, scrunching back on the couch as he approached her. He began to pull the gloves off his hands as he said, "Fine, go ahead and stop me if you wish to. . .you can't run from me, I'll only come for you again."
"Stop!" Rachel threw up her hands, closing her eyes tightly as she cringed. He blinked, staring at her in expectancy as she held her hands between herself and him.
"And. . .do you expect me to just stop because you put your hands in the way?" Michael said in a cold voice. She blinked, staring at her hands as she said, "It. . .it didn't work. . .but how. . .that's impossible!"
"What didn't work? Your charm? Cause I'm not impressed. . ." He grabbed her hands, scaring her as she said, "No, my powers, they aren't working!"
"Look, I don't know how stupid you think I am-" Michael said fiercely.
"No, I really can't-" He grabbed her throat with his gloved hand, staring coldly into her eyes as she gasped, feeling her body fall back against the couch suddenly. Tensing up, she tried not to fight him, fearing the risk of breaking her own neck. A careless expression covered Michael's face as he slowly brought his bare hand close to her cheek, saying quietly, "I don't like being toyed with. . .who do you think you are?"
"N-no one. . .just an. . .ordinary person trying to make it through life. . ." She responded hesitantly.
"Ordinary? Pah, you're far from that! Why don't you show me how 'ordinary' you really are." Michael taunted, briefly grazing her soft skin with his index finger. Her eyelids fluttered as she felt her energy drift from her body, letting out a discontented moan in response.
"I. . .I can't. . .please. . ." Rachel pleaded, her eyes doing the same.
She seems sincere enough. . .but she managed to somehow kill Treize in a room full of guards without retaining any bodily harm. She can't be trusted. Michael thought, keeping his thoughts hidden behind his dead stare.
"Give me a reason to trust you and maybe I'll let you live longer." He said, keeping his eyes locked on hers. She couldn't think of anything, finally saying quietly, "Nothing I can say will be enough for you, so why waste each others' time?"
"You aggravate me. . ." He growled, releasing her and walking away into another room. She grit her teeth, glancing at a door not 10 feet from where she was sitting.
If I try to run, he'll just come for me again; it would be futile to try. Could. . .he be testing me? I can't take that chance. . .but I can't stay here, not right now! Rachel looked around, getting a feel for the room she was trapped in. It looked to be a cabin, the walls made of wooden logs stacked together. The floor was wood as well with traces of dirt scattered here and there between the floorboards. She noticed an axe by the door and followed the wall it was against over to a fireplace on the opposite wall, a pile of fresh firewood placed neatly by the hearth.
Looks like he lives here, makes sense. I suppose if I was cursed with some mysterious power I didn't understand I would do the same. . .I have to get through to him somehow, gain his trust. This isn't going to be easy. . .With a soft sigh, Rachel called out, "Do you even know what's going on right now? Michael?" The cabin was quiet, the sound of her own thoughts echoing off the walls. She became restless and stood up, roaming in the direction of where Michael disappeared.
"Michael? I don't have time to spend waiting around for you, my friends are disappearing slowly and we don't know who's behind it. Please, let me go. I can't help you if the world falls apart. . ." She stared at the door, contemplating whether to open it or wait for him to return. Mustering the courage, she touched the doorknob, gently wrapping her hand around the cold metal. She slowly turned it, hearing the door click as it opened. As it swayed into the room, she peered in the modest bedroom curiously, not seeing any signs of her kidnapper. Stepping in, she saw a bathroom door next to the bed, a light shining through the crack under it.
Guess he had to go. . .Rachel thought as her eyes wandered around the room, stopping on a small picture frame sitting atop the bedside nightstand. She walked over and gingerly picked it up, looking at the group photo. One face stirred up memories as she touched the glass, whispering, "Precious. . ."
"She is. . .or was. . ." Startled, Rachel turned sharply, coming face to face with Michael.
"No, Precious, that's. . .her name. . .how old is this picture, 4 years?" Rachel asked, looking back down at the frame in her hand.
"Yes. . .how'd you know?" Michael walked over to a dresser adjacent to the nightstand, pulling out the top drawer and sifting through the contents.
"She looks slightly younger in this picture than the day Trowa appeared with her. . .is this her sister? Alyssa, right?" Michael paused and stared at her for a minute, slowly unbuttoning his black shirt. He looked away, saying as he removed it, "Yes. She was too young to die. . .and you're 'friend' stole her from me and kept my little sister as his own."
"Trowa didn't kill Alyssa, he wouldn't. . .it's not like him. . ." Rachel said quietly, sinking down onto his bed. Slipping on a white long sleeved shirt and beginning to button it, Michael said, "Maybe you don't know him as well as you think."
"He thinks people don't understand him, like he's a total riddle to us. . .but he's not that hard to get. He's a very compassionate person. . .the war just forced his emotion into hiding."
"I see. . ."
"You don't believe me, do you? Well, of course you don't, you think I'm just some malicious killer with an incurable disease for lying." Rachel said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Michael looked her over curiously as he said, "Very poetic. Are you a writer?"
"Huh?" Rachel said, surprised by the show of interest.
"Well, since you are determined to prove you're not a maliciously lying killing machine, tell me about yourself, then I'll decide if I'll trust you or not."
He's really sneaky. . .I might have liked him if the terms were better. Rachel thought, cocking an eyebrow as she rested her chin on her palm.
"As a matter of fact, yes, I do write. It's not my strong suit, I'm an artist fulltime."
"Really. . .just a hobby?"
"No, I teach and do commission work, privately run, of course."
"I see. . .do you have many students?" Michael walked over to a desk near the door and sat down, digging out some papers to work on.
"Only one at the moment. I help Precious if she gets the urge to draw something."
"Does she live near you?"
"Same apartment; her father moved in with me and my boyfriend so it's like one big happy family."
"How long has this been?"
"About a month or so, but we used to see him all the time before."
"So you're like a mother figure to her, or is this man married? I should assume not since you didn't mention anyone."
"He's. . .still single." Rachel looked frustrated as she sighed. Michael turned to her, noting her depressed mood.
"No girlfriend?"
"Well, he had one but he broke it off a few days ago, said she was too. . .nosy? Or was that the one before her. . .maybe it was Jessica. . .or. . .Nicole? I forget. . ."
"Had a few women in his life?" Michael turned back to his work, writing on his papers.
"Yeah, I guess 22 is a few. . .but who's counting."
"22? Must be a bad kisser or something."
"No. . .he's never gotten that close to any of them, never let them."
"Uh huh. . ."
"I thought this was about me, I mean, I'm the one you're gonna kill."
"Hmm. . ." Michael grunted, ignoring her comment. Frowning, she glared at the back of his head. She suddenly got an idea, grinning as she stood and said, "So, I've told you a little about myself, what's a little about you that's not a secret or confidential?"
"Why should I tell you anything?" He glared at her as she leaned against his desk.
"The way I see it, you need me alive and if I can't leave, we might as well get to know each other!"
"I kidnapped you, you're suppose to be scared for your life." He frowned.
"Who says? SO, what kind of hobbies do you have?" She grinned.
"Leave me alone." He stood abruptly, walking toward the door.
"Got a favorite food? I personally like pizza with spinach on it, I hate Brussels Sprouts taste awful. . ."
"I like food, too bad I don't have any so I'm gonna get some, bye." Picking up a coat, he stalked toward his front door with Rachel right behind him.
"I'll come too! Besides, it's boring here and we can talk on the way!"
"I think not." He pulled his glove off, shoving his hand into her face.
"MFFTT!" Rachel tried to complain but she fell to the floor unconscious.
This isn't good. . .she's right, I can't kill her. Doesn't mean I can't keep her under control. . .my own way. Michael thought as he left Rachel lying on the floor while he went out.
"Trowa, what brings-" Quatre greeted his friend at the door. Looking thoroughly distraught, Trowa stepped into the Capitol lobby and said quickly in a loosely controlled voice, "They're gone, someone set up a trap and now they're missing and it's all my fault, I should have been more watchful-"
"Trowa, take it easy, who's gone?" Quatre caught him by the arm, his eyes full of concern.
"Precious and Hope, they've been kidnapped and I was too stupid to see it coming." Trowa looked close to collapsing as his friend led him into the foyer where others were currently.
"Trowa, what's wrong?" Duo stood, seeing the young man stumbling into the room. As Trowa fell into a couch, he mumbled, "They're gone. . .I was a fool. . ."
"A fool, you say? Feh, then I too am a fool. . ." Chang said, sipping at his cup of green tea.
"Chang?" Trowa looked up, his eyes looking dulled by his misery.
"Mrs. Wufei has been kidnapped, didn't you know? Same as Rachel. . ." Quatre said solemnly.
"I knew about Rachel. . .why is all of this happening? Nothing special's been going on so why. . .why now?"
"Yes, you wouldn't think that they'd wait till now. All the countries have signed on to the peace treaty and the coming of the new years is here finally."
"While I'm as eager as you to begin F.O. 1 (Fall of OZ), we can't until we're absolutely sure the threat is done with." Relena said as she entered the room carrying a cup of tea. The men stood and Heero entered behind his wife.
"I need to file a missing person's report, so I know who to look for." Heero said mildly, glancing down at Trowa.
"So far it's been Asuka, Rachel, Precious, and. . .who was that last person?" Quatre asked.
"Hope. . .I've lost Hope. . ." Trowa muttered, staring at the floor.
"Indeed. . .who's Hope?" Chang looked curious; it wasn't often that Trowa showed concern for a woman.
"Is this the Hope that Rachel teaches?" Duo asked, interested as well.
". . .Yes, but she was just babysitting Precious for me today, I had to work." Trowa said nervously, not looking up.
"Where were they when they were kidnapped?" Heero asked.
"With me at the carnival. . ." Hiding his face in his hands, they guessed he wasn't too keen on talking anymore.
