Hey, everyone

Rikku Urashima: Thanks so much! Glad you liked it and READ it! LOL. Yeah, Dorothy is scary. Catherine is too, but she gets better. Duo and Hilde get better too, actually . . .

Hououza: Please, ramble! We love rambling! Glad that a guy is reading our fic, we need more variety in readership. And you're smart! :-) (CEP: Dammit, don't spoil it for the others! Goddamn psychics!) Ahem, anyhow, yes, we thought that Relena would have some pent-up aggression. Hope you like this chapter, and please leave us another rambling review! Also, we are so ever grateful that you agree with our view of Duo . . . since it seems some people do not.

Kamineko: You're welcome . . .but you didn't leave a review saying what you liked! (cries) Hopefully you'll review again and tell us what you liked. (CEP: got feedback?)

Anouk: Not sure what to tell you, dear. You don't seem to have watched the same one we did at all, lol. The show we watched, Duo never ever tried to hurt Heero and always was nice to him. First he rescued him after Heero nearly destroyed the Deathscythe - even if it was inadvertently - then he offers to help fix up Heero's Gundam, then after Heero steals parts, he isn't even angry enough to attack him. Duo's pretty damned forgiving. Then later Duo went with Heero to the schools, and tried to get him to interact with girls. That's so mean of him! He must really not care about Heero at all, what with working hard to get Heero to interact and socialize like a normal, sane person.

And let's face it, Duo had a crush on Hilde right from the beginning. The first week they were together he was getting jealous over Trowa! And Hilde does NOT act like a groupie; that doesn't even make any sense. Who would be a groupie for a terrorist? Stupid people, that's who. (CEP: Hilde acts like Duo's friend. You can tell this beacuse she's acting friendly ie: trying to find him a job; offering to help but NOT to make him dinner; and helping him by getting info from Libra. Speaking of which, how many groupies do you know of who have the guts to pull of something like that? Groupies tend to be spineless cowards . . . which is also NOT Relena. Which series were you watching? Have you seen Endless Waltz?

Another thing, Duo hasn't dropped his "I don't care" act except in front of people he cares about. This is called "friendship" Wherein two or more people "open up" to each other.) Anyway, back to the female of this . . . duo. ahem. Seriously, though, as a last comment, I don't see how character growth is "softening" the characters. Even in the series, they soften. Heero is the most obvious example. In the end of the series, he is tottally different towards Relena, he actually tells her to believe in him and that fighting to save everyone is all that he can do for her. That doesn't sound like the cold-hearted psychopath that he was in the first episode. (CEP: And Heero's not the only one. Trowa is a lot more angry in the beginning, Quatre is more secure in the beginning, Duo is more goofy and sarcastic and Wu Fei s a hell of a lot more misogynistic. Towards the end, Trowa is calm and peaceful, Quatre is stressed out and doubtful of himself, Duo is more cynical and serious, telling less jokes, and Wu Fei doesn't call women . . . "women." Or "weak" for that matter.) Darn, looks like those stupid creators went and ruined the characters. Why do the creators tend to do that so often? (shakes head)

Wing: Duo is nutty, and also has some problems . .. ones that will come out in the chapter after this one, lol. Thanks, everyone seemed to like the drunk scene! It was CEP's idea. You are totally correct, a lot of shit will hit the fan when Relena and Heero meet up. (CEP: icky, smelly excrement, and lots of it!) Okay, I wish I hadn't used that metaphor . . . Anyhow, we think you're a woman. Sorry about that. Though if you were a guy that would be interesting. (CEP: I firmly believe that only a woman could be so vindictive to not share her gender after several requests.) Don't mind him, he has issues. (CEP: VINDICTIVE!) Shuttup, you.

Merit Somnia: Glad to see you! Thanks so much, and please leave further reviews if you get a chance! This upcoming chapter is less action oriented, and is definitly less silly, but more action is to come!

stardust113: Thanks! Hope you like the other chapters too!

WARNING: Evil character development ahead . . . read at your own risk . . . If you hate reading characters that grow and change like actual people, please go and read a different fanfic where the characters act like cardboard cutouts.

CEP: This is not a directed statement. Really. I swear.

Chapter 6

Earth, Moscow
April 13th – 8:57 pm

Duo sighed and shook his head as Hilde began to cry into his shoulder, his own tears drying. "No, no, it ain't your fault, baby," he whispered. "I was bein' a pain." Man, I'm such a jerk. I can't believe I made her cry. He began pulling the gloves from his hands, tossing them over the bed and taking her up into his arms again. "Hey, don't cry for me, Hilde-babe, I'm not worth it."

The weeping girl pulled away just enough to lean over him, tears rolling down her cheeks. Finding himself suddenly glowered at, Duo stared up at her in shock.

"Dammit, Duo," Hilde sobbed, rubbing at her eyes, "you know I hate it when you say that! You're worth everything to me." The young brunet blinked as she flung her torso over his and wrapped her arms around him. Burying her face into the pillow below his head, her words whispered into his ear, "You think you could be my best friend and not be worth crying for? That's just dumb, Duo. And I know you're not really as stupid as you act."

"I don't act stupid all the time, you know," he informed her, smiling as he ran his fingers through her short hair. She sure does smell nice . . .

Sniffling, Hilde stopped crying and pulled back to gaze down at him, her luminous indigo eyes watery but happier. "I guess you don't look so big and bad now, holding a crying girl, huh, Mister 'Black Leather'?"

"Hey," Duo smiled up at her and let his arms fall to wrap around her waist, "if I had a choice between you and bein' 'big an' bad', I'd choose you every time. After all you're my bestest bud, right?"

To his surprise, tears sprung up within her indigo eyes and she dropped down to hug him tightly. "Oh, Duo . . ."

"Hey, what – wait! Uh, um, whatever it is I said, I take it back!" He winced and held her tightly to him. "Don't cry!" And this is exactly why you two should just stay friends, moron.

Pulling herself up a bit to mock-glare at him, Hilde sniffled, "So you take back saying that you'd pick me over being big and bad?"

"Well, y'know," the auburn-haired teen peered up guiltily from the bed, "if it makes you cry . . ."

"It makes me cry because it's so sweet, you dummy." She beamed to soften the words and raised a hand to brush the messy bangs from his eyes.

Duo gazed up at her in concern, confused violet eyes narrowing. "But . . . you're crying."

"There's good crying and then there's bad crying," chuckled the girl as she dropped heavily back onto him and squeezed tightly. "This is good crying," she murmured into his ear contentedly, sending a shiver down his spine. I'd tell Hilde that her lying on top of me was a great incentive for me opening up and sharing my feelings, but then I'd get slapped. And she'd probably stop.

Reciprocating the laugh a bit shakily, the one-time God of Death ran his fingers through her hair, gently cupping the back of her head to his shoulder. "Like I'm supposed to be able to tell the difference. Do I look like the sensitive type to you?" When she started to giggle into his neck, he flushed and quickly amended, "Wait, don't answer that." I hope these game pressure-suits are too thick for her to notice how tight my pants are getting.

―

"Oh, sure," Hilde chuckled, a part of her relishing the feeling of him under her, "you're definitely not the sensitive type. It's not as if I've just held you while you bawled like a baby. Nope, definitely didn't do that!" With a giggle, she rolled over to lie next to him and gaze into his eyes. I wonder how he got purple eyes, anyhow. I've never seen anyone with that color before.

"I did not bawl like a baby," the dark-cloaked teenager grumbled, assenting to the change of position. "I cried like a man. A big, strong man, okay?"

"Okay," she chortled, reaching around to tug on his braid and answer mockingly, "you cried like a big, strong man, then, alright?"

Duo nodded. "Yeah, that's better- Hey, wait!" He gave her a faux-frown and raised an over-dramatic eyebrow. "You tricked me, you minx!" he announced, rising to lean over her and begin tickling her sides vengefully.

"Hey!" she squirmed and began to giggle as his fingers poked into her ribs, "no fair! And I'm not a minx, you disheveled ruffian!" she declared imperiously before twisting in his arms and erupting into fits of laughter. "Stop! Stop!"

"Okay, okay," Duo pulled his hands away and instead placed them on the bed to either side of her, bending over her with a smirk crossing his face.

Wow, he sure looks dark and evil with that smile and those black clothes, Hilde thought to herself with a blush, unable to break away from the sultry look in his amethyst eyes. Better not let him know how sexy he is or he might get a bloated ego. "He-hey," she told him nervously, "we should get back on subject."

Duo's eyes half-closed as he smiled at her and began to lie back down on the bed by lowering himself onto her, one knee resting between her legs and his upper arm splaying out across her chest. "Mm-kay," the young man murmured, mesmerizing gaze catching hers.

Uh-oh, the brunette gaped slightly, trapped by his aroused violet eyes, I don't think that's a flashlight pressing up against my leg . . .

Just as his attention fell to her parted lips and Hilde felt certain he was bending down to kiss her, a loud knocking sounded on the door, and Duo jumped up and spun to face the noise. "What the-" Laughing nervously, he tugged on his braid and went to answer the door by instinct. "Who is it?" he asked, tossing an embarrassed glance back to where Hilde still lay on the bed.

From the other side of the door came a timid male voice. "Letter for you, sir."

"Letter?" Duo frowned and went up to the door. "What the hell? Who's it from?"

There was a rustling of paper and then the man behind the door replied, "Um, it doesn't say."

"Okay, just slide it under the door," he frowned suspiciously, then grinned over at Hilde, "Gotta protect your modesty, baby!"

Hilde rolled her eyes and took one of the pillows, covering her head with it. That moron. Thank God the gaming computer made a distraction. The last thing I need is another complication in my life.

She heard the sounds of Duo picking the letter up from the floor and then his heavy footsteps growing near upon the wooden planks. "Hey, Hilde, wanna read the letter with me? It'll help you feel more involved."

With a smile, the dark-locked girl pulled the pillow from her face and rose. "Okay, if you really want me to." She swung her legs out and watched her sable-clad companion sit down next to her.

Duo pulled out the letter from the envelope and unfolded it, crossing one leg over the other. "Hmm, this is weird, it's from some guy named E. Hey, that's Elminster, I know about him. He's this freaky wizard that gives clues to random adventurers to help them complete their quests and stuff."

"Sounds like a stalker," Hilde quipped, giving the letter a wary glance. "So, what does it say?"

"Um," he scratched at his tawny head, eyes scanning the words, "Some kind of prophecy. Blah, blah, blah, 'ten and twenty years', blah, blah, blah, 'trouble in the heavens', blah, blah, blah . . ." one sienna brow rose and he slowed, staring at the letter.

"What?" Hilde leaned over his shoulder but he waved her away, a weak smile breaking across his quickly paling features.

"Oh, nothin', it's just this last part is a little unexpected." He cleared his throat and the color returned to his face as he gave her a small grin. "Let's see, 'Bhaal will find his death; his throne will lie fallow and his soul shall be split amongst the heavens . . . and the world shall wait for his heir.' Kinda creepy." Chuckling nervously, Duo stood and began to pace the room, letter gradually crumpling within his hand.

"Hey," Hilde blinked with concern, watching him as he seemed to pull his nervousness inward and away from her sight, "who's Bhaal, anyhow?"

"Ah, no one in particular," he told her as he strode back and forth, eyes locked onto the stoked fireplace brimming with flames.

With a sigh, she stood and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. "I don't buy that, Duo. C'mon, it's a prophecy. If you know something, spit it out."

Stalking across the room once more, Duo shrugged, black cloak flaring out in his wake as he pivoted to pace back before the fire. "Oh, Bhaal is one of the Gods," he told her, tossing the letter into the blaze as he passed, his steps slowing.

"Which one?" her quiet tone broached the silence, and Duo halted at her words.

Emitting a low chuckle, he turned to the fire and leaned his palms up against the mantle, staring into the flames. "He's the . . . God of Murder . . . and Death."

((()))

Earth, Moscow
April 13th – 9:10 pm

"Relena."

Heero closed his eyes from where he lay face-up on the bed, arms and legs flung out in the darkness. Exhaling, he studied the blackness behind his eyelids, and allowed his mind to wander.

He had already done his research into the school as soon as Quatre had arranged their rooms. Discovering that there wasn't any way to graduate earlier than the class frustrated him to a slight degree, but he'd quickly brushed that aside and sought out other possible advantages. Fortunately, as far as he could discover by hacking, Une had already created their backgrounds. A true history for him did not actually exist . . . he had no birthplace, no social security number, no identity. But thanks to Une, he now did.

If only he could rely upon that false record now and just get a G.E.D. However, from what he knew about Une, she would immediately take back her gift if he didn't continue with his end of the agreement. Therefore, any early graduation or diploma appeared to be out of the question at this time.

The dark-haired young man frowned, eyes still closed. The dark of his eyelids almost took on an indigo sheen as he further considered his options, and some inner section found this color change curious and made a note to investigate if he ever had any free time. Lately he'd had more opportunity for recreational analyses.

If he could trust his ability to hack and alter records enough, he would have simply created an educational background himself. However, there were so many systems, safeguards and unknowns that doing so would have been quite foolish. Une had it easy; she worked above that system. Heero preferred to use as much possible data as he could have, and when it came to the likelihood of anyone discovering his digital creation, he could not truly know the quotient of any variable involved.

Once again, that bit of frustration grated at his psyche, but he pushed it down. There remained no reason at all to be upset, really. If he had to spend a year in a school, at least he would have food and lodging, and he'd always found learning to be fascinating. Perhaps the concept of being railroaded bothered him. Une had removed the pilots' own control from them, and Heero found himself admiring her genius. Her deft manipulation couldn't be contended with; as if they were pieces in a life-sized game of chess, they were now exactly where she wanted them.

For someone who had used the colonies as hostages against the Gundam pilots, Director Une had certainly grown and changed. But Heero found himself wondering: if they were pieces in a game of chess that she was manipulating, were they of her color, or the other? And who was the opponent?

Heero opened his eyes, and the shapes and forms of the hotel room blinked into being around him. Staring up at the ceiling, he shook his head infinitesimally. IS there an opponent now? Or does she consider the possibility of losing to be her enemy?

Enemy.

Shutting his eyes firmly once more, the boy could already feel his thoughts straying. No, I don't have to fight again. All Une wants is for us to consider her offer. No one said that I had to join the Preventers.

But why wouldn't you want to, he pointed out to himself, glowering up at the ceiling again, if you always believed that true pacifism was impossible?

I'm such a hypocrite.

Heero had felt so betrayed by Relena after she had become the Princess of the Sanc Kingdom. How could she have acted so affectionate and concerned when she believed that peace could be achieved without any struggle?

The fight for peace that he had undertaken meant nothing to her.

Or so he had believed at that time. He had felt . . . tossed away. Discarded. Like every other warrior for peace.

He totally understood how Wu Fei had suffered . . . but Heero considered himself fortunate that he had discovered the truth about Relena's views sooner than Wu Fei had.

Relena had not truly comprehended reality at that time. It took her over a year to actually recognize that peace could not be created so effortlessly. There would always be those people to thirst for power and lack in any conscience. The assumption that every person would understand peace if they just had it explained to them . . . it showed how naïve and pure-hearted Relena truly was. For that purity, he had been and still was thankful; but it didn't take away the sting of her thoughtlessness at the time.

And now . . . she is whole. Perfect. Whatever imperfections she might have were outshone by the knowledge she had gained, and knowing that she could understand him somehow meant more than any damage any other flaw she had could do.

His logical center grumbled at that concept time and again, but it almost made Heero smile in amusement at how he was living beyond logic and reason . . . and that such senseless emotions didn't seem to really feel uncomfortable.

They used to.

Smirking slightly, he closed his eyes once more, seeing her face within his mind. This time, it . . . didn't feel as painful.

"Relena . . ." Heero sighed as the sensation of warm sun floated over his skin even though the ebony of night surrounded him. In his imagination, he could see the Chicago marina spread out before him, a blanket on the grass and the wind-tossed waves beyond.

Instead of some unknown man and woman sitting there holding hands, he could see her gossamer honey hair dancing in the breeze as she sat, beginning to unpack the picnic she'd made . . .

. . . And he sat next to her, gaze held by the gentleness of her smile and the glint of joy reflected from her sapphire eyes . . .

He could see himself, beaming joyfully, within them.

Heero drifted off to sleep, seeing an image of himself smiling as he had never smiled before – bright . . . full . . . undaunted and unrestrained – mirrored within those deep blue eyes.

Relena . . .

((()))

Earth, Moscow
April 13th – 9:20 pm

Duo yawned as he dropped back onto the plush hotel bed. After staring at the ceiling for a moment, he sat up and began pulling his form-fitting ruby and black shirt up over his head, then tossed it onto the floor and started with his jeans.

After talking with Hilde during the game, they'd called it quits, both tired from jet-lag and still needing to unpack. Once Duo had returned to his hotel room, he realized that he was too exhausted to deal with putting his clothes away. Who cares if we're here for a week, I'm bushed. I'll unpack tomorrow.

With a sigh, he sat up and walked over to the chest of drawers and began to unbraid his hair, glancing at his reflection in the mirror above the polished wood. He'd definitely grown taller over the past year, as it seemed a late growth-spurt had finally kicked in. Smiling slightly, Duo shook out his lengths of brown hair and headed for the bathroom, shedding the last of his clothes as he went.

His eyes caught his reflection in the mirror there above the sink, and for a moment the young man flicked his gaze over his bare chest and arms, noting again the definite difference now compared to two years ago. Sensei always told me that when children exercise and use their muscles a great deal, their actual muscle development doesn't occur until their late teens, Duo mused as he got into the shower. Why did that bastard always have to be right about everything? Turning on the water faucets, he watched as his long hair feathered out around him like a chestnut cloak, the ends pooling in soft auburn swirls along the bottom of the porcelain bathtub.

I wonder if Hilde thinks my hair is too girly? She always said how nice she thought it was, but . . . Thinking of her, Duo frowned and flicked his fingers through the gushing water. Deciding it warm enough, he turned on the shower head and stood under the hot liquid, eyes closing.

I haven't cried like that since I was a little kid. I wonder what's wrong with me.

His masses of wet locks hung heavily across his back, reminding him to hurry and bathe before the hot water ran out, but to his surprise, the cascade continued to steam as he stood under it, his head hanging back and shoulders slumping from exhaustion. Must be because it's a hotel. Huge water heaters. Finally, Duo pulled his long hair forward and reached for the shampoo bottle to begin washing it, that familiar frustration returning as he received the common reminder of how difficult cleaning almost five feet of hair could be.

Shampooing took many minutes, and in the billowing steam, with such a familiar activity to occupy his mind, Duo found himself thinking back over what had happened that day. Hilde didn't even seem upset or surprised that I broke down. Shaking his head slightly as he rubbed in the shampoo, he smiled weakly at the memory. I guess she was expecting it. She always was the stray type . . . I must seem irresistible.

Duo's shoulders drooped again, and he sighed as he finished scrubbing the ends of his hair. Setting down the new – and now half-empty – bottle of shampoo, he grabbed up the hotel bar of soap and unwrapped it, then continued to bathe. Am I just another stray? Why would she let me live with her anyway? I'm way too dangerous.

Then again, danger never seemed to be something that would phase her. Watching the wafting fog from the scalding water, the young pilot could see her joyful features in his mind . . .

No . . . Hilde's my friend. My best friend. She wouldn't put up with me if not. Standing back under the downpour, Duo told himself forcefully, Anyhow, there are tons of other homeless people wandering around, and she never took them in. Sure, she bought them sandwiches, but . . . that doesn't count.

Chuckling a bit at his own paranoia, he set about using up most of the bottle of conditioner he'd bought. Gee, this stuff is so expensive, it's probably cheaper to just buy the avocados themselves and use THAT, he joked to himself as he ran the cream through the weighty lengths of hair.

I wonder, his mouth hardened, violet eyes falling to the floor of the tub, am I getting soft? Crying like that . . . I haven't sobbed so much since I was a kid. Recalling that time sent a sharp, almost physical ache right through his chest, and swiftly he pushed away the memory. But I've also never spent so much time with someone who actually seemed to like me, even just a little. Even Otou-Sensei never really showed me much affection, he glowered at the bottom of the tub . . . then his head fell, eyes closing.

Sensei . . .

Though they'd never been particularly close, the year and four months hadn't dampened the hurt one bit. Duo could still remember the moment he found out that the Gundam designers had died.

No one could have survived that. The whole engineering area of Peacemillion was so much space junk . . .

He just wished they could have found the bodies and been able to give them proper burials.

Discovering his eyes watering again, Duo clenched his jaw, and the tears halted angrily. I shouldn't even be sad about that bastard. The 'professor' wouldn't even let me call him "dad" in English . . . not once. Hell, the only time I could even speak English around him was after the Sweeper Group joined the blasted Barton Foundation, because no one in the Foundation understood Japanese. Fucking old-fashioned jack-ass, and he wasn't even Japanese himself!

Having rinsed out the conditioner, the young man sighed and turned off the water, then stepped from the tub to grab a nearby towel. Speaking of which . . . Frowning, he glared at his reflection in the mirror, violet eyes cold. That was a pretty close call with Hilde, today. I have to be more careful . . . or someone might figure it out.

Exhaling slowly again as he wrapped the towel around himself, the pilot headed for the bedroom, flicking off the lights and plunging the bathroom into darkness as he left.

((()))

Earth, Moscow
April 13th – 9:36 pm

Whipping a vicious snap-kick at the punching bag, Catherine growled and spun again to face it, landing two punches with her gloved hands to the bag as it swung back to her.

Around her, silence enveloped the exercise room; the borrowed punching gloves were a bit big on her, but the acrobat didn't mind.

Dammit, she thought to herself as she punched again, maroon curls dancing, can't they leave Trowa out of their fights? Don't they realize how sensitive he is? If they say they need him, he'll go, even if he really doesn't want to. He's battled enough for peace, and he's so young. He deserves a rest, and if they refuse to give themselves a break, it's their own fault. They shouldn't be dragging him into it.

She hit the bag again, but her strike felt weaker, and with a scowl, she stopped, grabbing the bag and leaning against it as her face fell further.

But Trowa doesn't see it either; he's so into the hero complex that he won't admit that he's too young to be living like this. Teenagers aren't supposed to be fighting. People grow up too fast as it is. Why shouldn't he get to have a childhood like everyone else did?

Arms wrapped around the bag, she sunk into it slightly and sighed. "It's not fair."

A familiar voice startled her, saying softly, "I know."

Catherine stood and turned around, frowning up at Trowa from where he leaned a hand against the nearby wall. "What are you doing here?" she grumbled, periwinkle eyes narrowed in biting agony.

The tall young man exhaled slowly, then gave her a tiny smile. "Cathy. I wish you wouldn't get so upset about this."

Glowering, she turned back to the punching bag and began hitting it again, growing more annoyed when he moved to hold her target in place. "You just don't get it! There are plenty of people who can fight, adults, people who have lived their lives and made a choice! You shouldn't be fighting their battles. If your friends want to waste their lives on this," she swung again but Trowa's muddy green eyes never left her own, even though she glared at the bag he held for her, "that's their own problem, they shouldn't be dragging you with them!"

He shook his head, gaze still calm and serene as he held the sand-filled bag effortlessly. "I did make a choice. No one convinced me or brainwashed me or threatened me to make this decision. And I want you to stop blaming my friends," his tone hardened as he gazed at her resolutely. "They deserve compassion for what they've been through just as much, if not more than I do."

Halting, Catherine blinked and dropped her arms to her sides in surprise. "More?"

With a long sigh, he let go of the bag and leaned his back against the nearby wall, crossing his arms. "From what I've learned and seen, I know that they've been through far more than I have. I don't really remember my childhood, but it's not something that bothers me. I feel satisfied with where I am and the choices I'm now making with my life."

His hazel gaze rested on her tenderly, tone quieting further. "I probably shouldn't be telling you all of this, but I think you need to know. The last thing I want is for you and them to alienate each other or hate each other . . . Because if they find out that you feel this way, I know it will hurt them. And that will just lead to a confrontation, sooner or later."

Exhaling in annoyance, the girl began removing the gloves, all fight out of her. "Okay."

Trowa nodded a bit and looked down, as if in thought, then began. "The reasons that I think they've had a harder time than I have are pretty simple, but these are things that I'd prefer you not repeat." He glanced up to her and she bobbed her head, so he continued. "Heero, as you've seen, is pretty cold. Early on in our missions, he killed all of the Alliance's pacifists, because of a ruse created by Oz. Under the misinformed impression that he was getting rid of Oz's leaders, he instead killed innocent men and women working toward peace . . . thus providing another reason – possibly the final reason – for the Earth to go to war."

Catherine's eyes, which had been widening the entire time, began to water slightly, and she raised her bare hands to her chest, fingers cross-clenched tightly as if in prayer. "And he carries that with him, doesn't he." At his nod, she dropped her head.

"Quatre's father was murdered by the colonists of the colony his family owned, with the help of Oz. That sent Quatre into a horrible place, and it was a long time before he could deal with that. His father," he added in a somber whisper, "never approved of him fighting . . . and Quatre was never able to hear from his father how very proud he actually was. His sisters have tried to instill it within him, but it's just not the same."

Crushed, she sniffled and wiped at her eyes, thinking of the kind blond who seemed so eager to help. "Oh, Trowa, I'm sorry," she murmured.

He unfolded his arms and pulled her to him, shaking his head. "It's alright. You didn't know. I just think you should remember that, often, you don't get the full story. Everyone has pain in their pasts. You, me, and every single person we meet in our lives. There's not one person who hasn't had a tragedy . . . many may not even admit it to themselves, but it's there."

Nodding again, Catherine squeezed him tightly and asked, "What about Duo and Wu Fei? Wu Fei seems really hurting, but Duo acts pretty silly. I suppose that's just a cover."

"It is. I think sometimes that people who act the most happy are hiding the most pain inside." Smiling down at her, he added, "What is that old saying? 'Clowns are laughing on the outside and crying on the inside'? As ironic as it may be, I think that fits Duo very well."

Adjusting his grip around her, Trowa continued sadly, "From what Duo's told me, he was an orphan since he was pretty young, four or five; he doesn't remember his actual age. Young enough to be badly hurt, but too old to totally forget his parents. He lived on the streets for a while, and after a few years, he was adopted. But he still felt pretty distant. He hasn't told me very much at all, but I can tell that he didn't get much of a childhood with his new parents. He's certainly not living with them now; who knows if they're even still alive."

With a sigh, he looked down at her and smiled slightly. "Wu Fei is hurting, I think. He would never tell anyone his emotions, from what I can surmise, but I do know that he came from the colony L3-9821, the colony that destroyed itself in preference to being taken over by Oz. Every person on the colony died with it; I can only gather that his entire family and his home were obliterated as well."

Catherine buried her head into his chest and sobbed a bit, then wiped her eyes and gazed up at him. "I'm sorry, Trowa. Thanks for telling me, I won't tell anyone." Dropping her head, she shook it sorrowfully. "I'm sorry I was so selfish. I didn't want to lose you . . ." I've had my tragedies, too . . .

He held her as she cried a bit more, gently brushing his fingers through her hair. "It's alright, Cathy. You meant well. And I think you'll grow even more from this. Just remember, I'll always be here. I know you're trying to protect me, but you have to let me be free to fight to protect you, also."

"Okay," she nodded, rubbing her cheek against his chest. "I'll do my best."

Trowa hugged her tightly, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I know you can do it."