Author's Note: Sorry about the long wait. I have been getting my life together after some devastating blows. I really missed this story too, so it's nice to be back. Please enjoy the two newest chapters.:)
The Circus
Trowa got out of the truck with Middie. He stayed relaxed, as in most situations. "The hoodie. Take it off and leave it in the truck." Middie glanced toward him oddly, but she followed his order.
This would be intense. Middie Une got some rest yesterday, and then he brought her back to Earth. She slept on the journey only a little, her own mind and body still in a mixed-up state.
Maybe he should have let her take the pregnancy test, it would have helped her at least know if she were pregnant or not. It could have also saved him this hassle too, but RTL had pulled off impossible things before. He wanted the secure location of the Circus to test.
He also wanted Catherine to trust in the results. She knew nothing of Middie Une, so he left the testing kit to her. He trusted that Catherine grabbed a top brand bought from nowhere near them. She would be there to justify that Middie Une did not mess up the test. I don't suspect her in any way, but I cannot leave anything to chance. Neither can Catherine.
All three of them should be convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Catherine started to head over, her arms folded, and almost marching. Middie Une wouldn't want an upheaval, but Trowa never could control Catherine. He also wouldn't let Middie hide in the hoodie. This wasn't a time for hiding anything.
"Is this her, Trowa?" Catherine asked him, but walking closer toward Middie Une. Trowa nodded.
Catherine stared at her. Flashes between anger and sympathy. "A spy in the war." Middie nodded to her. "Not a spy anymore?" Middie nodded again. "Did you go to the hospital?"
Middie didn't seem to know how to answer. Trowa would not interrupt.
"Is anything broken?" Catherine asked her. "It looks like. You're broken."
Trowa watched her gesture to Middie's hand. Of course she would notice that.
Middie tried to hide it behind her back. "Professionally set."
"So Trowa took you to a hospital before he brought you here?" Catherine looked at him. "Did the doctor say she was okay? It is okay? What's the situation?"
"She didn't go to a hospital with me, Cathy." Whoever took care of it was a professional, that was clear. She didn't tell him about it though, and he was not prying into her life yet.
"Who did that?" Catherine was starting to make up her mind now. While torn between war and fighting, she was also sensitive to violence against others and Middle was still healing from the kidnapping visually and physically. "Walk."
Middie didn't move.
"Who did that?" Catherine repeated.
Middie looked at herself briefly. Like she was debating what to say.
"Well. Open your hand then." Catherine angrily reached behind her and shoved a pregnancy test into hers. "Here. Keep keeping secrets then and you'll see where that gets you with me."
That seemed to trigger Middie to tell Catherine as she brought the test box closer. "The friend I was with, it was his parents some time ago."
"His dad?" Catherine asked more assertively.
"Mostly his mom."
"Before or after she knew your condition?" Catherine asked firmly.
"After, mostly," Middie Une admitted. "We negotiated things between."
That didn't stir Cathy in a good direction. "Then what did his dad do?"
Trowa could see an unbalanced feel when Catherine asked that. Middie could seem to tell Catherine about Gin's mother but not his father as easily.
"The finger. Who took care of it?" Catherine asked again, wanting an answer to that question still.
"Gin called their private family doctor," Middie answered.
Catherine glanced at Trowa. Not so much of hate. She seemed to be deciding about Middle Une. "It's late. If you want something to eat, there is still plenty. After she takes the test." She stole one more look at Middie. "The bathroom is this way."
Trowa followed each of them.
Was Catherine a part of RTL? Middie couldn't tell, but Catherine definitely was passing judgment. No surprise. Please. Make this negative. I don't want to be here, I want to go back home. Catherine led the way to the bathroom and made certain Middie went in.
It wasn't the best bathroom, but not the worst. The Circus took care of it. Probably traveled with it. I can't dwell on a bathroom forever, this is going to happen whether I like it or not. Middie knew she didn't have long, but took two seconds to let her mind wrap around everything that was happening.
She was in an area she wasn't welcome in, she knew that. How long would she be there? What did Trowa plan on doing with her? These questions became all too real as she looked at her test. She brought the test back out along with the box to show. "Two lines."
Catherine grabbed the box and the base of the test and scrutinized it. She trembled slightly, then threw it in a nearby trash can.
Catherine was quiet for once. Middie didn't know how to react.
Within the silence, Trowa spoke again. "That's not surprising," he admitted, "but confirming. This way, Middie Une."
Trowa led her into another tent. He wasn't surprised when everyone hanging around still were a little standoffish. The Circus was its own family. He hadn't even brought any of his allies into that area. It was critical though. Being on the move in the Circus was a much better option to keep Middie Une hidden. "The food is over there."
As Middie moved, he moved. Meanwhile, everyone watched her. The Circus knew who he'd been, but they'd never give away his location to someone asking for it. For the same reason, they were cautiously watching the woman hanging around their food.
Middie must have felt it too, but she still went after some food and ignored everyone.
Trowa had two things on his side. For one, anyone could tell that she hadn't been treated decently. Although she carried herself and tried not to call attention, she had a slight limp, her face and cheeks still had signs of not being treated well, and of course she was trying to plate things with her good hand that didn't have the finger splint. For those that wouldn't care about physical injury, Trowa stayed near her, showing he was in control of his guest. Yet?
It still wasn't enough.
"Sorry about her injuries. She shouldn't be in here," one of the performers said to Trowa.
Trowa didn't want to get into all the facts. The troupe would keep the secret, but it was a lot to shoulder. He wasn't going to go into the past, a skim of the top would suffice, but that meant they would want to know more about her. Especially her current injuries, and she didn't want to express it. "It's late," Trowa settled on. "Middie Une is a unique case for the Circus that we will discuss tomorrow, but she is in no condition for a lot of questions right now." There.
"Is she joining?" someone else asked. "What happened to her?"
"You heard Trowa!"
Ah. The voice they would all listen to approached. "Cathy."
"Middie Une is a unique case no one has had a chance to discuss much yet, but she needs some food and a good nights' rest before anyone gets any answers." Catherine tried to satisfy them with that.
Instead, someone had started to bring the ringmaster in. "What's going on?" he demanded. "Who is that, Trowa?"
Damn. The ringmaster was now involved. The circus is a great place to hide, I chose it correctly when I first came here for cover. However, the reasons it's a great place to hide, are the same reasons it won't be easy to get her in.
"Watch your finger right there."
Trowa looked back at Cathy. She was trying to guide Middie around. Her fears of Middie were starting to lessen quicker than he thought.
Middie stared at the food and was thankful for Trowa's sister being a guide. It was good to see she was clearly wrong about her. Middie hadn't revealed what had happened in detail. She thought Catherine was angry at her beyond measure. However, she realized she got it backwards. She knows something.
"That's pretty good, and so is that," Catherine said, making pleasant conversation. "Everything is colorful and on display because that's how we live. If you stay, everything about you is eventually on display."
Catherine's subtle way of warning her that any secrets kept would be exposed. Middie just wanted some food, but it was starting some kind of argument, and Trowa was not the kind of person to deal with arguments. He didn't speak up. Ever. "How much display tonight?" Middie asked her.
"The ladies and the ringmaster. The guys will trust it after that."
Okay. "Then food?" Trowa wasn't exactly planning many stops with her. He just wanted to get back to his home.
"Then food," Catherine said as she left to go over by Trowa.
Ladies and a ringmaster. Been through worse to get a morsel. Everyone vacated the tent for now except the ladies. Catherine said they were all going to have some girl-talk. Except the ringmaster stayed too. He was the special girl-talk guest.
Middie almost had a plate of food. It was lying way over there by the buffet. Sing for your supper. She remembered Gin's words for her when she said that. Maybe it wasn't her name that made him call her One Song. Maybe he heard her say that out loud one day. Everyone there now stared.
"Most questions that can be answered, should," Catherine warned her. "It won't be repeated outside the troupe." She hesitated a minute. "If Trowa wants you here, you should understand, it's not a quick stop."
"Name?" Someone asked her.
"Middie Une." She'd answer what she could.
"How do you know Trowa?"
"The past, in the war." Hopefully that would work for now.
"Why are you eating on our food?"
"She is about to become one of us," Catherine answered for her.
Circus folk. Middie didn't have the abilities to be in a circus. She barely managed in her low-income jobs as it had been.
"What happened to your hand?" A younger, more innocent looking girl in the crowd had asked.
"My finger got hurt," Middie said simply.
"Why'd it get hurt?"
Just get it over with. Get it all over with because they won't let this up. It'd all come out, so let it all come out. If they wanted her gone afterward, Trowa would have to figure it out if he wanted her to stay. Otherwise she would find a different way.
That is what she did. She was a survivor. "My name is Middie Une, I am nineteen going on twenty," she said. "I lived on Earth all my life. I was involved in being a spy in the war. As a cute blonde kid, it worked. I know Trowa that same way, I was a spy against him." She heard a couple of gasps but she didn't care. She wasn't going to hang around a place to walk on eggshells. It was nice to see Trowa try and give her time to adapt before she explained, but Middie was never used to nice without a price anyway. While she spoke, Catherine stayed beside her. If she started to misspeak, she could stop her too. So far, she was letting her continue.
"Revenge of the Lost helped me at first, until they found out I was a spy and came after me instead. I ran away and found a new beginning. I went into a regular labor force. I've been in it for years." No need to mention her brothers or her father. She wasn't going for the sympathy vote, just the facts vote, to find where she stood. "Not long ago, I had to have a surgery for Tonsillitis. I borrowed money to get it done from a man named Gin. Afterward, Trowa came to my door and told me Revenge of the Lost was after him too." Hushed room. "He thinks I'm carrying his child so now he feels like he should be responsible for my welfare. Before he explained that to me though, I was taken away, being blamed for ratting someone out. These wounds are mostly a result of negotiation between me and a powerful mother of the crime syndicate down here."
She looked toward Catherine. She wasn't pulling in the details of Catalonia. "I was lied to, went to the colonies, but Trowa took me back. Now I'm here." Was that enough to get something to eat?
"It doesn't matter what happened in the past," Catherine struggled to say. "Although it will follow around her, I'm sure of that, but she is carrying Trowa's child. If we don't take her, then we might lose him."
"I want to know more about the spy position and the war," the ringmaster announced. "I want to speak with Trowa too, Catherine!"
"Yes, Sir," Catherine nodded gently.
"She may eat something for now." He stood up and placed his hat on. "With my permission. First thing in the morning, Trowa had better be at my tent!"
"Yes sir," Catherine nodded dutifully again as he left.
Expecting that to be enough for her meal, Middie tried to go back toward the plate she was making, but it wasn't enough yet. Catherine stopped her. I knew this was coming.
"You were a spy and you got people killed!" Catherine laid into her. "You didn't pull the trigger, but you gave away positions and that was as bad as killing them. But? We all have to learn how to forgive after the war. It's a time of peace." She gritted her teeth. "This is asking a whole lot though. You hurt my brother, and he is bringing you into our family, to protect his child. Therefore, you are getting a second chance to make things right. Don't screw it up, please." She rubbed at her eyes. She was a sensitive one.
"Now the injuries?" Catherine demanded. "You said they were before and after. I don't need extreme details but . . . I want to know."
Yeah. Middie knew she'd ask soon. "The mother of the son who they claimed I ratted out, roughed me up to figure out the truth before RTL called her," Middie admitted. "All of the injuries you see except my hand came from her."
"Did you go to the hospital?" One of the others asked.
"No. Just, regular stuff."
"Your finger." Catherine paused back on it again. "Did she do that too?"
"Her ex-husband that escaped jail, also courtesy of RTL. That one, I did kill," she confessed outright. How could she put it succinctly? Catherine was smart enough. "Since the father of the baby was dead to him, he wanted to use it to regain his track again."
There. Was that enough? Everyone still stared at her. "Well, what do you want already?" Middie was getting mad. "I didn't ask to be brought here. I was living just fine away from here until I got dragged here. I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here. I'm pregnant, I'm starving, I've been forced to do crap I haven't done since the war to survive, and I had to retain my dignity by doing crap I never wanted to either! So just leave me alone, let me eat, and I'll get out!" She limped to the food.
Damn limp! You can't look cute and innocent with a limp. You don't look like a good girl with a limp. She moved toward her plate. Fighting for a simple meal again. All over again. Survival. Survival was never an easy thing. It wasn't a matter of pride. It was about getting down into the muddiest, dampest mildew ridden and rotten infested spots and not giving in. I'm not a good girl anymore anyway. Not since before.
Then, she saw her plate being taken away. I earned that, at least let me eat. She realized though, that they were plating it for her.
"She missed that, and she should get that."
"Do you have any allergies?"
"You should try that; it's got a lot of protein in it."
Oh. Middie looked over at Catherine.
"Like I said. It's a time of peace. Second chances," Catherine said to her. "Just be good." Her eyes sharpened, with a slight tear. "Because Trowa would never ask you for anything else."
"I will." Middie agreed as she saw a much better-looking plate coming into existence. While she took it graciously and started to eat, she felt Catherine's hand on her lightly before it fell away.
Trowa sat on his bed, talking to Duo on the phone. He promised he would call when he got her back. "It was positive. Catherine should be able to get her food. I'll find a way to get her in."
"Trowa," Duo said. No whimsy. No cheeriness. "I only saw her for a bit, but she's been through some hell. You talk to her about it?"
"No," Trowa admitted. "Not yet."
"Well, enjoy a night or two getting to know her then," Duo warned him, "but you better find out the facts. I know the way she was eyeing the guy she killed that she was all set to do it. She's a pistol ready to go off if too much builds up. She's that kind of person. Be careful."
"I know," Trowa said again. "I'm sorry your family wasn't what you wanted."
"Hey. People you can trust are a lot more important than some relation," Duo said. "I better get to bed. I need to go sleep with Hilde now. I mean! Yeah, you know what I mean. She might be safe now, but one wrong move and RTL will bag her. I gotta be just as careful until we get them. You got your bed squared away to watch out?"
"I have been ready." The day he ever found her. If he found her again. Trowa had been ready.
Trowa took Middie to his personal tent area before bedtime. She was looking at it all around.
"It's like a bunker on the side." She glanced to him. "Are you holding me prisoner at night?"
"It's designed for safety," Trowa said. "Revenge of the Lost is known to stab its victims at night with anything, especially by the feet. It's better to be safe." He noticed her look. "What is it?"
"Careful what you wish for."
That was an odd statement. Trowa didn't understand it, Middie never wished to be pregnant that he knew of, or to be with the Circus. "Climb in."
"Are all of the other pilots using this model?" she asked. It was almost a tease. Almost. She climbed into her side.
Trowa didn't know what the other pilots used, he just knew while they had taken care of their responsibilities, Middie was . . . not being taken care of. Just lugged around through shuttles. All he could do was plan for if she came back.
He had sacrificed room in his tent for a larger bed. Half of it had been boxed, and melded together with the railings. It looked like a giant metal box with a bed tucked inside. One side was left unwelded and unopened so she could get adequate air and get out.
Otherwise, he would be next to her. His area was not contained, but he was a light sleeper. If anyone came in the room, he would take care of them long before they could figure out how to reach her.
Even though it was a box, it was still a bed first. A pillow, a blanket, and a comfortable mattress.
Having been taken from her home, kidnapped for some time, and now there, she was missing many items. Everything she owned except the clothes on her back. He would have to find a way to get her items without putting her in trouble later or rebuying her some down the line. The second option would probably be best. For now, sleeping in her clothes was probably easier anyhow. He would do the same.
He moved into the bed. She was tucked back into the metal container, already sound asleep. She sleeps well inside of it. "Goodnight, Middie Une." He closed his eyes.
Finally.
