Chapter Five

Ask the Lonely

Let it die, get out of my mind

We don't see eye to eye

Or hear ear to ear

Don't you wish we could forget that kiss

And see this for what it is

That we're not in love

The saddest part of a broken heart

Isn't the ending so much as the start

The tragedy starts from the very first spark

Losing your mind for the sake of your heart

- Feist, Let It Die

Heero's frustration was growing along with his incessant pounding, becoming more desperate by the second. Now, of course, Relena's door was locked. That, he fully expected, given how angry she was with him— angry enough to call Duo and tell him the whole sordid story.

While Heero knew he had behaved rottenly, he felt strongly that what had happened should have been kept between Relena and him; Duo was the last person Relena should have told.

Fueled by mistrust and jealousy, he pounded relentlessly, not caring whether or not Relena had fallen asleep.

"Relena!" he barked. "Open the door!"

After a few moments, he noticed his fist was still bleeding; he'd never bothered to patch it up after smashing the bathroom mirror. Tired of banging, and just a little bit sore, Heero decided to just force his way in—where was his buster rifle when he needed it? Never mind. Backing up a few feet, he lunged forward and thrust his shoulder into the door, bursting it open with a satisfying slam.

"Rel—" he began before realizing he was addressing an empty room.

It was dark, but Heero's eyes were already well-adjusted and deftly scanning the area: the bed was rumpled with Relena's bathrobe wadded up in a heap; her suitcase had been opened, and clothes and shoes were strewn across the floor; the window was slightly ajar. Now Heero felt panicked. Sometime between his stupid argument with Duo and all the futile pounding on the door, had something… happened to Relena?

But Heero wouldn't allow himself to panic; he was, first and foremost, a solider. And so he did the pragmatic, clear-thinking thing, and went back to the common area to retrieve his cell phone. He nonchalantly tried Relena's cell. Half a second later, he heard it ringing inside her briefcase. Damn. Calling her work phone yielded the same result. Where had Relena gone, and why on earth had she left both of her cell phones behind?

This couldn't be good, Heero thought. He checked around for any signs of struggle. But if someone had broken into their hotel room, wouldn't Heero have heard it? Had he been so caught up in his own crap, too busy yelling at Duo, to even notice? No—that was impossible. That kind of thing just wouldn't – couldn't – happen on his watch.

So what was it, then? He observed the open window once again. The only explanation was that Relena, for whatever reason, had made a hasty exit. Heero felt his blood run cold. Just a short while earlier, Relena had been sobbing wretchedly in his arms; he'd never seen her cry so hard. Relena, above all, was a woman of strength and poise—she rarely broke down. Not only did Heero feel guilty for causing her pain, but for a brief second, he worried that he'd caused her to consider self-harm. It seemed stupid to him, and not like Relena at all, but she was incredibly distraught. What if…?

Heero rushed to the window and looked down, only to see a fire escape. Ah. He never should have thought Relena would do anything so foolish. Even for "love." He couldn't for a second think someone like him was worth jumping over, anyway.

Knowing Relena hadn't leapt to her death was a start, but didn't give Heero any clue as to where she had gone. He located his shirt on the floor near the bed and slipped it back on. Then he made sure to grab his room key and lock everything up before he left, including the window. He hoped Relena, though she'd left her phones behind, had at least remembered her key; Heero, ex-soldier and current security guard that he was, just couldn't bear to leave the window opened as he left. He just hoped Relena wouldn't return to the room before he did and find herself locked out.

That only made him all the more determined to find her, and quickly.

Heero descended the fire escape in a few deft movements, jumping from the highest level to the lowest without bothering with the stairs. He scanned the hotel's back alley from right to left, debating which direction to head in first. Either side of the street held a realm of possibilities; the city they were in was the colony's largest, about the size of New York's Manhattan. Crammed into a fairly small about of space were millions of people, and thousands of restaurants, bars and clubs. Heero could only guess that Relena, in a fit of rebelliousness, had headed to one of these open establishments, perhaps to drink her sorrows. Other than that, he was drawing a total blank; where else could Relena have been headed?

Coming to that conclusion would do little to help Heero find Relena. It was only a possibility, and even if it turned out to be true, where would he start? Heero let out a frustrated grunt.

"I'm a twenty-two year old woman who's pissed with a stupid guy," he muttered to himself. "I'm in the middle of a big, strange city. Where would I go?"

Observing that it would be tricky to hail a cab in this alleyway, Heero decided that Relena must have started out on foot. Heading left would take him further uptown to the theater district, where the night's performances were certainly over and restaurants would have probably had last call a few hours ago. Venturing downtown, to the right, would take Heero to some of the seedier nightclubs and dives. He really didn't like the thought of Relena going there, but it was just the type of thing she might do to tick him off… if that was, in fact, her goal. Grinding his teeth together, Heero took a right.

He passed a few places he wrote off altogether— French and Italian bistros that were far too upscale. Relena might frequent those for lunch or early evening cocktails on a normal day, but tonight's circumstances were far from normal.

As he neared downtown, Heero noticed several strip clubs and decided to write those off as well. No matter how "dangerous" Relena might be feeling, he knew she wouldn't be caught dead in there; she was too much of a feminist to step foot inside.

But there were quite a few dives and clubs that had the potential to attract a single girl looking to escape her problems, if only for a little while. With a heavy sigh, Heero knew the only way to find Relena was to comb every last one. That would take hours, and by then, Relena could… he'd hate to think of just what she could have already gotten herself into. Next time, he'd have to lock her in her room and save himself the trouble.

The first dive was dark and smoky; although indoor smoking was strictly banned, no one here seemed to notice. A band was playing an old Journey song and a few patrons were drunkenly dancing. Heero's eyes took in a quick inventory of the dance floor, bar and all the tables. No Relena. Of course, she could be in the restroom… Panic gripped him. He hadn't considered that before; would he have to search every restroom in the city? For this, he'd need more booze.

"When you're feeling love's unfair, you just ask the lonely," the band belted. "When you're lost in deep despair, you just ask the lonely…"

Heero ordered a shot, downed it, and pushed open the ladies' room door without bothering to knock.

A rail-thin brunette dressed head-to-toe in pink spandex stood in front of the mirror, applying lipstick. She turned to glare at Heero.

"Sorry," he said, backing up. Time to make a quick exit.

She poked her head out the door at his retreating figure.

"Hey, hot stuff," she called after him. "Where ya goin'?"

"Ask the lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lowww," the lead singer crooned in his best Steve Perry imitation.

This place was in some kind of weird time warp, and Heero couldn't wait to get out.

"As you search the embers, think of what you had, remember..."

Now the music was just taunting him. Heero pushed open the bar's door, eager to get back into the relatively fresh air, even if it smelled and tasted a little stale compared to the Earth's oxygen. He could smell rain again, and knew that the artificial "heavens" above him were about to open up once more. Regardless, Heero pushed forward. He'd search every damned place he came across until Relena was found.

By five a.m., Heero had traversed nearly five miles on foot, or about 90 city blocks, ducking in and out of every place that was opened on each one. His clothes were soaked from the rain; in his white dress shirt and slacks, along with the bloody fist he'd ignored for hours, he was quite a sight. Luckily, no one had stopped to question him; if they had, there would have certainly been a fight.

But the sky was lightening, the bars around him were nudging weary revelers outside and hanging "closed" signs in the windows, and diners and coffee shops were preparing for the breakfast crowd.

Heero wasn't ready to admit defeat, but a cup of java would keep his bleary eyes open and lend him some much-needed focus. He trudged over to the first café he found displaying an "open" sign. He was obviously the first customer.

A petite woman with Eurasian features was just setting all the industrial-sized coffee makers to "brew" when he walked in.

"It's going to be a few minutes," she said over her shoulder, not bothering to turn around.

"That's fine," Heero said, waiting by the counter. "I'll have a large dark roast, black, when it's ready."

"Ok, that'll be three…" the woman stop short upon turning around. She muttered a soft oath, and Heero immediately picked up on her Japanese.

"Shinsetsu," she breathed.

"Sumimasen?" Heero asked in response. How easily he'd slipped back into Japanese, his primary language back when he lived on L1. "Come again?"

The woman blinked her almond-shaped eyes at Heero. She appeared to be in her early to mid-forties but had a fairly youthful face. Something about her seemed vaguely familiar, but Heero couldn't place it. But, then, he had lived near here before, and over the years the former soldier had dealt with thousands of people. He'd also been pretty good at remembering faces.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, looking bewildered. She turned her attention to the coffee, now fully brewed, holding a large cup under the spout and filling it with the hot, dark liquid. Her hand shook visibly as she handed the cup to Heero.

He was perplexed as to what he said or did that could have possibly frightened the woman. Had he spoken too gruffly to her? He had a tendency to do that at times, though he often didn't mean to…

She interrupted his thoughts when she rang in the till. Heero forked over a few bills and tossed his change in her tip jar, then turned his heel to leave.

"You gave me quite a fright," the woman laughed nervously.

"I'm… sorry?" Heero turned back around. "Uh, gomen…"

"Oh, it's not your fault," she said, waving her hand. "It's just me being nostalgic and silly. You see, you look… well, you look exactly like my husband did." She laughed shakily again. "For a moment, I could have sworn you were my long-lost son."

Her words gripped Heero.

Heero, whose real name and origins were a mystery to him, who remembered nothing prior to his grueling training as a child, who immediately used that training to deduce that this could be some kind of trap, but who had also learned to always act upon his emotions, found himself stepping forward.

"Your… long-lost… son?"