Quatre and Trowa eventually found us, although it was more of an accident because they had given up on looking for me. I think they seemed to realize something was not quite right, but they didn't come out and say it in so many words. Like Heero had done before seeing the proof, they just chalked up my reaction as self-defense and the stress of being accused of being that which I fought. They also realized whatever had gone on between Heero and I was just between us, and they didn't ask about it—but I caught Quatre smiling faintly at us when he thought I wasn't looking.
"Zechs is just a little on edge, since the demons have been becoming bolder about attacking us lately. It doesn't mean anything. He's... a little odd, anyway—he can sense them, but he misses sometimes and now it's obvious that he can be mistaken," Quatre told me in an effort to cheer me up—I was no longer crying, but my eyes were still red and it was easy to tell that I had been.
"Yeah, Zechs is just a weirdo," Trowa said. Quatre, seeming to disagree with his statement, smacked him lightly on the side of the head and he fell over in a pantomime of having been hit hard. If I hadn't still been so upset and nervous, I probably would have laughed—it was the kind of things friends did, trying to cheer each other up, and now I was their friend too. I didn't have to look on from afar and wish that I wasn't so alone, that I had friends like them.
I wondered about Quatre and Trowa, too—how they always seemed to be near each other. It seemed to me they were almost complete opposites, yet they managed to gravitate towards each other when they were in the same room. I supposed the same thing could be said about Heero and me as well, how we were so different from each other. We weren't the same at all, at least according to what I knew about him (which wasn't much at all). I wondered how he could have liked me from afar, without knowing what I was like—or even what I was.
It seemed strange to me, to like someone that you didn't know. Perhaps I just didn't understand, having never liked someone from afar as Heero had. I knew that lots of people had said I was good-looking; Sister Helen had often called me handsome although I couldn't bring myself to agree. Maybe I just didn't see things the same way as other people—another thing that made me different.
My whole life, all I'd ever wanted to be was the same. I realized that it was a stupid wish, but I wanted things to be different. I wanted a real family, with a mother and a father and a nice house. I wanted to be a normal kid, unaware of the war that was raging in the shadows. I wanted regular friends; I wanted school to be the only thing I had to worry about. A life where I wouldn't have to fight.
I knew I really didn't have to, but it was the choice I had made and had never gone back on; and now, sitting on a worn couch in a cozy room with friends and Heero's arms around me, I knew I'd made the right choice after all.
Heero, Quatre, and Trowa did their best to cheer me up, but the mood was ruined again when Wufei returned. He wasn't quite as nice about it as they were.
"You know, running like that would make anyone think his accusation was truth," he pointed out as he leaned up against the door frame, saying it over my head like I wasn't even there.
"Don't say that!" Quatre replied angrily, jumping to his feet. It was nice, knowing they were there to defend me. I'd always had to stand up for myself before, and I wasn't any good at it—I would just take the abuse, and then go hunting and let my anger and sorrow out on the demons. It worked wonders for keeping me sane in a world as messed-up as mine. Heero pulled me closer, trusting Quatre to take care of it—he was like the spokesperson for their (mine now, too) little group.
"I'm just saying, is all," Wufei replied, and, to my relief, left.
Quatre relaxed. "Don't listen to him. He's just as stuck-up as Zechs." He paused for a moment, then changed the subject to something lighter. "Umm... so, you want to stay for dinner?"