~AC 197, March 7th, L4-A001, Winner Mansion, 6:43am~
Rashid and the Maguanacs were all waiting for them when yet another white van escorted by two sleek black cars drove into the property. The lights were slowly turning from an eerie blue to a light orange. The forty men were silent as their young master, still out cold, was brought inside the house. Just a sign from Rashid's hand, and the thirty-nine ex-soldiers left to take protective stances all around the mansion.
"Thank you, Rashid," Iria said in a whisper.
The tall man watched the small body on the stretcher, eyes misting. Then, to Trowa's utter confusion, he turned to the green-eyed boy and bowed.
"We are at your service, Master Trowa. Please take care of Master Quatre. I cannot tell you how sorry we are to have failed in our mission."
Trowa wanted to tell Rashid that it was not his fault, that there was nothing the Maguanacs could have done, but the words never came out. How could he tell that to Rashid in all honesty, when he too felt like he had failed Quatre? How could he expect the man to accept words of comfort that he himself didn't want to hear, because he could not accept to have been powerless?
Iria broke the moment before it became too awkward.
"Let's get him settled in his room. Rashid, I'd like to see you at the beginning of this afternoon to discuss adequate security measures on the estate. That will be all."
The leader of the Maguanacs bowed and left, but not without a last sorrowful look to Quatre. Iria sighed and gestured for Heero and Duo to wheel the stretcher on to a small elevator.
The ride to the room was silent. They all followed Iria, Carter and Shannon looking around in awe at everything they saw. Soon, Iria stopped and opened a door on the right. While Heero and Duo pushed the stretcher in, she went to a control panel in one corner of the room, typed in an access code and pressed several switches. A very low, almost indiscernible hum filled the room. Heero's head snapped up and he looked around, then shook his head as he understood what was happening. Trowa, for his part, was noticing for the first time that this sound had always been present in Quatre's room, and that it was why it had felt eerily silent to him when he had come in. It looked like Quatre only activated the device when he was home and had a need for it.
"How does it work?" Carter asked, putting his hand on the wall and feeling a very small vibration.
"Some kind of electromagnetic resonance. The wall is reinforced with two panels of neo-titanium which are electronically charged, one positively, one negatively. Some particles, I cannot remember their names, also charged, bound from one panel to the other and create a virtual barrier that blocks… well in fact it does not really block the feelings of other people, but more exactly puts a lock on Quatre's brain waves, those that are different. If he is alone in the room, his brain doesn't take more strain than a normal human being's. If someone is with him, the power activates again, but you have to be in the room with him for him to feel you. If you step out and close the door, you're out of his reach. That will help him get some rest."
"Won't it give him a headache?" Carter asked.
He was rubbing his temples and looking slightly uncomfortable. Iria laughed.
"People born on Earth will get horrendous migraines after just one hour spent here, so I would advise you not to get in unless there is absolute necessity. People born on the colonies would feel a small discomfort, but since we basically live between metal walls that are electro-magnetically charged from the beginning of our lives, it does not affect us as badly. This could, though, because it's much more concentrated in here."
"I've never had a headache in this room," Trowa cut in quietly.
Iria turned to look at him.
"Did you do that research on your past you were talking about, Trowa?" she finally asked.
"Not yet," he admitted.
"Well, in case you were wondering about that particular fact, I can assure you that you are colony-born, and that you have at least a potential for New Type abilities, although it would need more testing to know which ones."
She glanced at the other pilots.
"In fact, I am sure that all of you have those abilities, to a certain extent, be it naturally or because they were forced onto you with genetic manipulations. This certainly explains why you were chosen to be pilots in the beginning. Even if the power does not manifest itself, New Types can be recognized to their fastest reaction time, usually light stature, and ability to multi-task that only can come from a different pattern of brain waves."
The pilots all looked at each other. Apart from the brain waves thing, which none of them had ever taken the time to verify, the description fit them right down to a T.
"We can talk about that later," Iria said, her tone final. "Trowa, could you put him in his bed, please? Sally…"
"I'll monitor him for a while and leave him with an IV," the blond doctor said. "I'm Earth-born too, can't stay in here too long with that thing activated."
"How will we know if something happens here?" Carter asked, concerned.
"The room has no cameras, my brother likes his privacy, but there are heat and move sensors in the walls, I'll have them activated as soon as possible. Right now I think we should all get some well-deserved rest. Trowa, your room is still just next door, isn't it?"
Trowa nodded, blushing. It looked like Quatre had actually done a lot of talking about him with his sister.
"Would it be alright if I came to see you in half an hour? I need to talk to you."
"Sure."
Sally looked up from the IV bag she was changing, and shot a severe look to Heero.
"You go get some sleep, Yuy," she said sternly. "And you too, Chang."
"Why doesn't Maxwell get the speech too?" Wufei groaned tiredly.
"Because he, unlike you two pig-headed idiots, knows when his body is exhausted and needs rest. Right, Duo?"
"Yup," Duo answered, snaking an arm around Heero's waist and bringing him closer.
Heero not only accepted the embrace but put his head on Duo's shoulder and closed his eyes, sighing. Carter blushed when he discovered an aspect of this group's dynamics he hadn't seen before, and so did Shannon. The nurse hastily looked away, embarrassed to have witnessed such an intimate gesture when she was just supposed to work here, but secretly glad that those two had each other, because they looked like they were going to need it.
'It was so obvious I'm surprised I didn't notice it before,' the young psychiatrist thought. 'And I'm supposed to be an expert in the human psyche. That shows how much I know.'
Wufei left without another word, lack of sleep making him grumpy. Duo shot a last look to Trowa and squeezed his hand, before steering Heero out of the room. Trowa looked up at Sally, who smiled gently at him.
"Go get settled, Trowa. He's gonna sleep for a while more, and you need some downtime too. Plus you've got a big sister speech coming up, so I would gather my strengths if I were you."
Thankfully, Iria had already left the room. Trowa looked at Quatre, then caught one pale hand in his and kissed it, before putting it back tenderly on the bed. He left too, not noticing Carter's eyes following him on the way out.
Sally did notice, however. She frowned, finished her settings and called to the two remaining people in the room.
"I think I'll show you to your rooms. Follow me."
They got out, Sally carefully closing the door behind them.
"Trowa's room is just there," she said, indicating a door to the left. "Wufei is on the other side of the room, to the right, and Duo and Heero sleep in the room next to Trowa. I am here," she added, pointing to the door in front of Trowa's. "Shannon, why don't you take that one over here? You'll be just next to me. Go get settled, and have some sleep while you can. Oh, and there's an en suite bathroom in every room, so just help yourself. Dr. Carter, if you'd follow me?"
She led him to the room on the other side of hers, opened the door and got in with him. He raised one eyebrow at her and only got a blank look back.
"Just one little piece of advice, Doc," she said, her tone a bit harsher than the one he had grown accustomed to. "Don't try to analyze those guys, okay? They have enough to deal with without that as a bonus."
"Wha…?"
"I saw you watching them. I know that they're probably dream study cases for PTSD or whatever you would call the damage done to a human mind when the person it belongs to has been forced to kill ever since they were kids. Just don't go there, Doc. You will lose your own sanity trying. And you will get on their nerves."
"What do you mean?" Carter asked, disturbed to realize he had been that transparent.
"I mean that they know perfectly well how screwed up they are, Doc. Take Maxwell, he's been examined by no less than seven shrinks before they even considered letting him get into Preventers. They each came up with a different diagnosis. It was the same for all of them, even Quatre. They can fix their own psych evaluation to the point that they know exactly what the person in front of them wants to hear. But the thing is, they deal. In their own ways, which are far from being conventional, I agree, but it works. They know just how fucked up they are and they are working on it on their own, because no one can ever understand what they went through. No one. Not even me, and I spent the final stages of the war with them almost 24/7."
There was a short pause. Carter gulped. He could not help but be impressed by Sally Po. She was younger than he was, he was sure of it, but she had guts to spill all that to him.
"I just want to warn you again, Doc," she kept on after a while. "Those guys are dangerous. No matter how young and naive they look, they are killers. They killed more people than you can imagine, and they don't live a day of their lives without regretting it. If they feel threatened, they will attack. And the one getting caught will not be a pretty sight to behold. You're here to do a job, do it, and do just that. Don't meddle into things that are none of your business."
"I see," Carter said, his voice rasped by… fear?
Sally tilted her head to one side, her strange slanted gray-blue eyes watching him thoughtfully.
"You want me to tell you a good thing, Doc? You don't see anything, not yet. But you will. If I were you, I'd just be happy that they found people to care for them and leave it at that. They don't need anyone to get inside of their heads to tell them 'you've got this and that going wrong'. Just leave them alone."
"I just want to help Quatre."
"I know. And I know also that you've come to care about him a great deal ever since he was thrown into your care, and I would not have asked you to come with us if that wasn't the case. But he is a killer too, Doc, even though you never saw that side of him. If he had to, he would look at you with those great big blue eyes and say he was sorry, and make it painless, but he'd put a bullet through your head just the same way the others would."
Carter gaped and Sally grinned.
"Just wanted to make sure you wouldn't forget it," she said lightly, before going out and closing the door behind herself.
There was a soft knock at the door, and Trowa said 'come in', almost automatically. Iria got in silently and closed the door. From the corner of his eye, Trowa saw her look around the room. Not that there was a lot to see. Trowa didn't own a lot of things, and he had left quite a lot of them at the circus since he had left in a hurry. He would have to email Cathy so that she could send him his stuff.
"Just one thing before we start talking," Iria said, coming to the center of the room.
Trowa turned to face her. The blond woman smiled at him.
"If I ever hear the words 'I'm sorry' come out of your mouth once during this conversation, I am going to smack you. Because whatever you believe, I do not hold you responsible for what happened to my brother. No one here does. The people responsible will pay in due time, but you are not one of them. Quatre is a big boy, and he doesn't need a babysitter, so there is nothing you could have prevented. Is that clear?"
Trowa nodded, eyes wide but secretly amused. Iria could not know how much she reminded him of Lady Une during her glory days in OZ when she spoke like that.
"Good," she said, sitting down in an armchair. "Won't you sit down?"
Trowa went to sit down on his bed. He didn't really know what to look at, so he decided to look at his feet.
"How are you, Trowa?"
His head snapped up. Okay, that was not really how he expected the conversation to start, and he was tired, and his usual instinct of not showing anything was completely out of the window.
"I don't know," he finally answered.
Iria smiled again.
"I am not going to yell at you, Trowa. I know why you had to leave."
A shadow of a smile appeared on Trowa's lips.
"You do? That's good, because now, I am not so sure. It was stupid."
Iria sighed.
"It was not stupid. It was… maybe a little sudden, and maybe you didn't part on the best of terms, but… I think it was a good thing."
"How can it…"
"Trowa, let's try to categorize things, okay? The fact that you left, and your reasons for leaving, had no impact whatsoever on what happened to Quatre afterwards. The mess he is in right now is a different story. I'll come to it eventually. Right now, I just want to know where you and my brother stand."
There was a short silence. Seeing that the young man was not going to talk, Iria started again.
"I think I understand quite well why you had to leave, Trowa. I don't know you, and I won't pretend to, but I know my brother and I am not blind. You are both barely seventeen, went through more horrors than many grown men I know, and you are in love. I think… I think you just wanted to make sure this was real, because you were afraid it was going to evaporate, just like the rest. Am I right so far?"
"Yes. I…"
"It's okay, Trowa. It is normal to have doubts, especially given the more than unusual circumstances. But tell me, do you know now? Is it real?"
"Yes. I love him," Trowa said simply. "And I never should have left."
"But if you hadn't left, you would both have lived in fear that one of you was going to get bored and go, or that you would grow apart and not know what to do. You needed some time, Trowa, and Quatre needed it too."
"Really? I don't think I ever hurt anyone that badly before."
Iria smiled again.
"Trowa… Do you realize that maybe Quatre was afraid to ask for some time alone because he did not want you to feel like he was rejecting you?"
Trowa's eyes widened.
"But… why would he think that? I mean, I feel like I am incredibly lucky just to have him in my life, so why…"
"Because he too thinks he is incredibly lucky to have you in his life, Trowa. Because, in all the years I have known him, he has rarely been as happy as I have seen him this past year. Because, whatever you do for him, you make him alive. He was a very unhappy child, Trowa. He didn't like himself at all. Seeing himself in your eyes, and seeing the love for him you have there, is probably the greatest gift you could have given to him. And I can't thank you enough for giving him that."
Trowa blinked several times, trying to assimilate everything.
"Trowa, I am not going to lie to you, he was a mess after you left. He missed you terribly. But he needed this just as much as you. And in a way, I think it made the moments you spent together more precious. I could always tell, these past months, when he had seen you, because he was glowing every time."
She got up and walked to the window, looking out thoughtfully.
"You are young, and yet not so young at the same time. I think you are wise enough to make your own decisions, and I think your decision to leave was the right one. Because you would have come back anyway, right?"
"Yes. From the first day, I knew I would be back."
"Thank you, Trowa."
"What for?"
"Everything. For him. Thank you for being there."
"I wasn't there when he needed it," Trowa said bitterly.
"That's now he needs you!" Iria said irritably. "You are not going to change the past Trowa, what is done is done! But you can help me, help him get better! So I am asking now, is it possible for you to forget about your sorry ass for a minute and be there for him?"
Trowa gaped at Iria. She grinned.
"What? Didn't believe I knew any rude words? You'd be surprised to know what happens in all-girl schools, I think."
"Uh…"
She kneeled in front of the bed, looking at him intently. Somehow, he could not tear his gaze away from her.
"He loves you, Trowa. He is crazy in love with you, and you love him too. So now, you are going to help him get his mind back, and once he is better, you have to promise me you two will talk and make things right. Before you do anything about the cute Chinese guy anyway."
Trowa gave a major start.
"What?" he asked, his voice shaking.
"Come on, I am not blind. And… I kind of overheard a phone conversation I was not supposed to hear. I don't mind. As I told you before, it's your life, and if he loves Quatre even half as much as you do, it is going to be fine. Because Quatre has got enough love in his heart to love the whole world in spite of itself."
Trowa was completely stunned. He nodded almost automatically. Iria got up and took out something that looked like a portable transmitter out of her pocket.
"It's a radio. It's linked to the captors in his room. The lights will switch on if something moves. I'll leave you to get some rest now, and… Trowa?"
"Yes?"
"Don't let him down."
"I won't."
"Not Quatre. The other one. Don't forget about him. He needs you too, you know. Are you ready for that?"
"Yes, I am. We've been… talking about it for quite some time, actually."
"Oh. Well, I suppose it's normal, with Quatre being the master planner that he is."
She shook her head, going to the door.
"Well, I guess now I can say I've seen it all! Keep me updated, okay?"
"Okay," Trowa replied, a bit too late, to a closed door.
He remained petrified for a few more minutes, before he sighed, caught between embarrassment and relief. It had not been easy for Quatre to disclose their relationship to his sister, and now she was throwing them both into Wufei's arms, and not caring in the least what people would say.
'And she's right. If I had cared less, maybe I wouldn't have needed to make sure he loved me. And… I need Wufei too.'
~AC 197, March 7th, L4-A001, Winner Mansion, 11:07am~
The last drop of sedative had fallen out of the IV bag a long time ago. Blood cells had diligently taken the drug throughout the body, keeping it asleep until the whole thing was finally processed and washed out of the system. Then, green-blue eyes still blurry with sleep opened.
The first thing Quatre saw unsettled him greatly. The walls were blue. Not white, but blue. He shook his head, and regretted it immediately. Then a slight feeling of panic began to make its way through his brain as he realized that he could feel only one person in there. What had happened?
/what is going on? where am i?/
Quatre slowly sat up, only stopped for a moment when the IV line tugged at his arm. He snatched the needle out impatiently and looked around. This was definitely not his room at the Fatimah Clinic (/how do i know the name?/), but it felt… familiar.
/i've been here before/
The fact that he could only feel one person right now was very unsettling, to say the least. He couldn't recall the last time when he had been alone in his head. The rare moments it had felt like him at the hospital were when he was dreaming about those boys…
Quatre's eyes widened as some memories rushed back to the front of his mind. The boys. They had come to get him, all of them. And… a woman… she had said something, and he had blacked out. Just like that.
/it's not a dream. they came. they came for me. why?/
/because they are your friends, how many times do i have to say this?/
Okay, that was a bit more familiar. If he was alone in his mind, at least he could go back to arguing with himself over the things he should remember but didn't.
Fumbling with the covers, he got up slowly. He had to lean on the wall for a while when a dizzy spell hit suddenly, but he managed to stay upright and began to explore that new place.
/not new/
Okay, that not new place that he didn't remember. In fact he felt… quite alright in here. Like it was a place he was used to being comfortable in. The room emanated some quiet comfort, calmness, a sense of joy and of being loved. People had been happy in that room, so happy that the mark of it had been permanently left without anyone noticing. And the slight tinge of melancholy behind all of that happiness only made it shine brighter.
Turning to the shelves that held books and photographs, Quatre tried very hard to ignore the fact that hundreds of alien feelings were not crowding his mind. He had grown so accustomed to it that he felt strangely cut away from a part of himself, and yet, he appreciated knowing that the uneasiness and the nervousness were his own, and his own alone.
Carter had woken up just half an hour before, and was standing near his window, watching what that very few people had ever seen : Chang Wufei practicing his katas.
The young doctor was beginning to understand Sally Po's words while watching him go through his routine. The young man had his eyes closed, but each blow was delivered with enough precision and force to kill someone, had someone been there to take the blow. Muscles rippled under caramel-colored skin, belying the roundness of the cheeks and the youth of the face he was looking at. Right now, Carter could fully believe that Chang Wufei was a killer.
He could also believe it of Yuy, he didn't really know why. It was a way the youth had about him. He just radiated threat, and Carter had a feeling that falling under the scrutiny of that blue gaze for too long could make you confess stuff that your ancestors did and beg for forgiveness. He had a bit more trouble imagining the laughing Duo Maxwell or the soft-spoken Trowa Barton killing someone, but then, he didn't know them at all, and if nothing else, Carter knew masks when he saw them. Maxwell's smiles rarely reached his eyes, and Barton had an uncanny gift to melt into his surroundings. Sally was right, they would make interesting cases… if they only let someone examine them, and Carter had to admit that none of them would.
He almost jumped when Chang straightened up and suddenly looked up right at his window. There was no point in pretending he had not been watching, so Carter just stood there. Chang looked at him for a long moment before smirking and disappearing inside the house again.
Carter let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. But he couldn't think much more. His eyes were caught by a light on the transmitter Iria Winner had left. Either Quatre was awake and moving, or someone else was in his room. Anyway, it could not hurt to check.
Quatre was looking at the pictures with wide eyes. That was unmistakably him on all of those photographs, so he probably was in a place where he used to be a lot. The boys from his dreams were on some of the pictures too, the green-eyed boy more often than the others, and usually with him and in more intimate postures.
/i don't understand. where am i? why do i feel drawn to those people? why do i feel like only they can help?/
/you will understand. do not push yourself too much. just feel./
/feel? but what?/
/your emotions. your own emotions. the ones that belong to you only, the ones you buried so that they wouldn't be stolen away from you. find them back./
/i… how?/
/follow the trail back to the beginning. go back to where it all began./
Quatre frowned. This didn't make any sense. Not that his conversation with what he supposed was himself had ever made much sense before. Not that crazy people were supposed to make sense either, and since he was pretty much arguing with himself, then he supposed he had to be at least a little crazy.
His thoughts were interrupted by the other voice, the cold one, the mechanical one. Some part of his brain had picked up the strange sounds coming from outside.
/input/
/potential danger coming in in about 23 seconds/
/prepare for all eventualities. probability of enemy encounter: fifty-six point four percent/
The first thing Carter noticed as he entered the room was that the bed was empty; the second thing he noticed was that the wall was indeed lined with neo-titanium and very hard as he was forcefully shoved into it. Through a daze, he noticed the forearm that was leaning across his throat, forcing him to stay calm or choke. It took him about thirty seconds to bring his breathing back to normal and have his vision clear enough to see who was holding him.
He gasped when he saw Quatre looking straight at him. His eyes looked a bit unfazed, but not the way they usually were. There was a cold, calculating gleam in them that Carter had never seen, the perfect features composed in an expressionless mask. Carter frowned and tried to push the boy away. He didn't even move an inch. A fraction of second before Carter began raising his right hand to break the hold, Quatre's left hand flew and pinned it to the wall.
Carter began to grow afraid. If he examined his situation in all objectivity, he was trapped against a wall by a Gundam Pilot who did not seem to recognize him and no one else seemed to be around. Of course, growing afraid was not a good course of action with an empath who was absolutely bound to feel it but at that precise moment, Carter couldn't really help it.
He gave a major start when Quatre suddenly spoke. He had seldom heard him, and usually it was in the throes of a nightmare during which the youth would scream until his voice was hoarse. This time the words were said in a mechanical monotone, flatly. And they were not at all the first words Carter had expected to hear from his young patient, whatever he had imagined.
"Access violation. Incoming of more hostile presence in approximately 54 seconds. Remove current potential danger and seek cover. Probability of success: eighty-seven point three percent."