Night Wind

Part II – Let the Night Being

Chapter Fourteen: Reunion

"You know us?" one of Benjiro Mori's children asks.

The sheriff's smile shines even more brightly. "Of course I do! Fiero, you and I used to play together when you visited! And, oh my God, I had the biggest case of hero worship for you, Ossia," she confides, alternately turning to address each sibling directly. She sighs happily, shaking her head in wonderment. "I just can't believe you're actually here. We were afraid we'd lost both of you during the war."

Those last words are spoken with a significant measure of sorrow. The siblings silently concede that, evidently, a lot had been lost in the war. Like their recollections of this place and this woman. They glance at the small pin engraved with her surname. It does not seem familiar.

One of them asks, "Why are you here?"

The other challenges, "You followed us."

The sheriff shrugs loosely but she does not deny the accusation. "No offense meant. We've had some problems with the local kids getting bored and coming out here to 'celebrate' your father's memory." She grins wryly. "I somehow doubt getting high and using various shades of lipstick on the memorial plague is something the lieutenant-captain would have appreciated."

The siblings snort softly in agreement.

"Where are you staying?" the sheriff asks suddenly.

They tense. "We haven't gone into town yet."

She grins. "I know some people who'd love to see you..."

Thoughtful frowns grace their brows. "Friends of our father?"

The sheriff chokes back a laugh. "I suppose you could say that." She nods toward the small, dirt parking lot where her police cruiser is sitting beside their rental car. "Just follow me," she invites, then pauses to promise, "You won't regret it."

...ooo...

Bisho has known Quatre Winner for years. Since that moment in Yokaze's apartment so long ago when he'd caught her trying to run, when he'd coaxed her into telling him why she'd been so afraid of a life with Duo, when he'd held her while she'd cried she had been his friend. She had tried to cheer him up when he'd been despondent. She'd attempted to bring some spontaneity and charming weirdness into his life. She'd endeavored to give back a portion of the hope he'd nurtured to life within her own black, jaded, little soul. As a child of the streets, she'd developed rather good instincts regarding people. As a friend of this man, she'd studied him very closely, knowing he would never "burden" her with his own troubles. So, she'd like to think she knows Quatre R. Winner fairly well.

Which is why his current behavior is frustrating the hell out of her.

"Quatre, did you hear what I just said? Quatre?"

She can see him focus on her with an almost audible snap. "I apologize, Bisho. You were asking about my schedule next week?"

She shakes her head. Her university's upcoming banquet and lecture in honor of a prestigious visiting engineering scholar is instantly assigned a lower priority. "Quatre, what is going on? Are you all right? You've been spacing since... well, since Heero and Yokaze took off."

Quatre smiles for her, but she quickly identifies it as his "boardroom" smile. This, more than anything else, scares her. Since when had Quatre stopped being real with her?

He tells her, "I'm just a little concerned. Trowa, Duo, and Jaspien seemed to be taking it really hard."

She notices how Quatre's gaze had wandered toward the shuttle window. His reluctance to make eye contact ties her muscles into even tighter knots. She doesn't believe that's all that's bothering him. And she knows he knows she doesn't buy it.

With a heavy sigh, she wraps her fingers around his wrist and tugs his attention back to her. "Look, Winner," she says quite clearly. "I know there are some things you can't tell me. Corporate secrets and all that. But can you promise me you won't let whatever's bothering you go? You'll get someone to share the load with you, won't you?"

Beside her, Quatre's features soften as he studies her worried expression. Gently, he draws a fingertip over the appearance of a slight frown line on her brow. "I'd hoped to give you laugh lines..." he muses softly. "I am sorry I've worried you."

One corner of her mouth kicks up into a wry grin. "I notice you haven't promised to not work yourself into an early grave."

He replies with a smile of his own. "But you give me plenty enough incentive to avoid it at all costs."

"Just... take it easy there, Mr. CEO," she replies, still not distracted by his vague attempts to placate her. "You've got a plan for us. I'd like for you to be around to make good on it." She drawls, "Having our first kiss in a psychiatric ward with you in a funny, white, hug-yourself jacket is so not gonna cut it."

Quatre laughs and groans in mock disappointment. "Looks like it's back to the drawing board..."

Shaking her head, Bisho leans against his shoulder and Quatre automatically lifts his arm to tuck her against his side. His fingers comb gently through the long strands of her loose hair as they watch the darkness speed past in a silence tinged with temporary compromise.

...ooo...

They pull over onto the curb and wait. Just ahead of them, the sheriff is climbing out of her car in front of a pleasant-looking two-story house on a quiet side-street just off of the main road through town. Although this home with its well-tended garden and slightly-weathered siding looks innocuous enough, they are wary.

They watch as the woman strides up a short path of cobblestones toward the front porch. Her steps are light and her shoulder-length hair gleams in the sunlight as she ascends. Before she can knock, however, the screen door opens and a small, elderly woman emerges. She seems a little surprised to see the sheriff on her front porch, but once her gaze travels away from the uniform to the woman's face, her smile is warm.

Both are too far away for the siblings to read their lips, but a moment later, an old man joins the woman in the doorway. They glance at each other in confusion as the sheriff turns and waves at the brother and sister, gesturing for them to approach.

They do not have to consult each other to know the danger here is minimal. Curious as to the identity of these people, they climb out of the car and step onto the sidewalk.

The old woman gasps. The old man swallows.

The siblings hesitate.

But then the sheriff calls out, "Come on, you two. We haven't got all day, you know."

They each arc a brow at that.

Beside the sheriff, the elderly woman grabs distractedly for her husband's arm. His own gnarled hand covers hers and they watch in silence as the brother and sister continue their approach, although with a bit more caution. It seems to take forever for them to traverse the short distance to that veranda and they find themselves standing next to each other on the top step, ready to flee at the first sign of subterfuge.

"Sweet Lady of Mercy," the old woman chokes out. "It really is them."

"Of course it is," the sheriff replies softly. "I wouldn't joke about something like this."

"Fiero. Ossia," the old man says, his voice cracking under the strain of his emotions.

They hesitate before taking a half a step forward. They intend to offer their hands to these distraught strangers but they do not get the chance. Suddenly, they are being pulled into those frail arms. Suddenly, there are kisses against their cheeks and foreign tears cooling against their skin. Overwhelmed but not threatened, the brother and sister allow the greetings and feel frustrated at their inability to identify these two people who obviously care very much for them.

...ooo...

"All done torturing yourself for the day?" Duo asks without looking up. He shifts against the tree trunk he's lounging against and the dried grass beneath his and Jaspien's picnic blanket crinkles with the movement.

Still standing just beyond Duo's line of sight, Trowa asks softly, "What makes you ask that?"

Duo chuckles. The last few days it's been a sound lacking mirth and light. "I heard that song Yokaze left you being played when I passed your door." He finally looks away from the uniform lines of the orchard and regards Trowa with narrowed eyes. "On repeat."

For a moment, Trowa doesn't say anything. He simply lowers himself to the blanket. Finally, he asks, "I meant, what makes you think I'm done torturing myself for the day?"

Duo sighs and allows his head to drop back against the tree. "Yeah, you are talking to me, after all. Something many would consider a fate worse than death. So... what? You've just graduated up to another form of voluntary torment?"

Trowa draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. "Something like that."

Movement in the distance announces Jaspien's presence. Duo had sent him off on an errand to look for any left over apples and it has, apparently, turned into something requiring the boy to climb as many trees as possible. Neither man continues the conversation for a while. They listen to the sound of the breeze in the trees. The far-off scrape of a small pair of tennis shoes against bark. The soft, mindless applause of the leaves rattling together.

"So," Duo hears himself ask. "Do you want to talk about it?"

For a time, it seems as if Trowa doesn't care to respond let alone actually speak. But then: "A few months ago, shortly after our first date, I decided to tell her about the darkest moment of my life."

Duo raises a brow and glances at his companion out of the corner of his eye.

"She wouldn't let me," he continues, voice expressionless. "She told me she would never ask. Not because she thought knowing my secrets would change how she felt about me, but because they were mine and mine alone." He shakes his head slightly. "I've never known that kind of... unconditional acceptance before. I was... amazed by it."

"Who wouldn't be?" Duo asks on the softest of whispers.

Trowa continues as if he hadn't heard. "But you know what?" He pauses but it's clear that the question is rhetorical. "I wanted to tell her anyway." His arms tighten around his shins and his eyes narrow as he forces out the next words, "I wanted to be open... clean..."

"Free..." Duo agrees, knowing that longing intimately.

"Every day, I had to fight the urge to tell her. The longer I fought it, the more it seemed like a limitation she'd placed on me... on us." Trowa sighs. He blurts softly, "What kind of person gets angry over such total acceptance?"

Duo considers this. "You're not wrong to be angry, Tro. You had a need to share yourself with her and she wouldn't – or couldn't – meet that need." He pauses and feels out the idea just beginning to form on his tongue. "Perhaps you're angry not because she offered such blind acceptance but because you sensed she hasn't yet learned to accept the darkness within herself."

Trowa frowns. "So she refused me something she couldn't offer me in return... Was it deliberate?"

Duo can't answer that. But he does say, "Who knows, man. Yokaze's one of the greatest strategists I've ever met. Hell, if it came down to her and Quatre, I wouldn't be sure who I'd put my money on. But, on the other hand, she was trained like Heero. If a personal flaw came to his attention, he'd move the Earth and the colonies to eliminate it..." Duo trails off and sighs. He's not entirely happy with his speculations because that's all they are. And Duo knows that both he and Trowa are rapidly approaching the point where they'll require a few honest answers.

End of Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Notes: It belatedly occured to me that a few of you who are following this story might not have read "Mission One" recently. Anyway, Trowa's "darkest moment"... that's from MO. You know, the flashbacks about his past? Just thought I'd put reminder here, just in case.

Author's Notes: I want to send out a couple of big "Thank You's" to anissa32 and Stacey for their recent reviews. Even though Heero and Yokaze are being frustrating, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. No need to worry though. Before this is all over, I'll straighten them out. But in the meantime... more of that strangeness I promised at the beginning of Part I is on the way.