Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, and I don't own the song or song title "Bed of Roses" by Mindless Self Indulgence. Any little characters thrown in are totally mine (probably for my own evil amusement).

AN: I'm going to try and update again before I go abroad. Check my profile for updates.

' ' are Thoughts

Italics are Past events

Italics in bold are Song lyrics

Bed of Roses

Chapter 12: "Unknown"

"Screw you, the sentiments the same it always was"

"Has she woken up yet?" the youngest Winner asked softly, looking up with hopeful eyes at his sister, Iria Winner. Before she could even register the question, his gaze was back on Dorothy's silent form.

He had been at her bedside since the morning of her arrival, and he was prepared to be there for a week or more.

After they'd successfully vacated the hospital shortly after 4 a.m., the six operatives had made one final move back to Heero's place, with Dorothy traveling by way of camouflaged ambulance. It was there Quatre had been waiting, and he had assisted with her final move into another armored, unmarked van. One of the hospital emergency medical technicians, Chris, had helped with the medical equipment, and had been the one to drive the ambulance over and return it.

Rasid had then driven the new van to an undisclosed site, with Quatre riding along in the back beside Dorothy so he could monitor her vitals.

This had been the final and most important part of the mission, and the former Sandrock pilot wouldn't have entrusted it to anyone else.

Her new, "secure location" happened to be one of his homes in the Greek countryside. As a semi-famous figure among the colonies and Earth, Quatre had become quite the expert in keeping a low profile; all of his homes were inconspicuously marked and set back from the road.

It had made perfect sense to everyone for her to be entrusted into his care—well in everyone but Milliardo's eyes.

What do you mean "she'll be staying with Quatre?" he bellowed, turning enraged eyes first to the shorter blond man and then Heero.

Heero sighed, rolling his eyes with exasperation.

"I'll bite: if you weren't so clouded with emotion, you'd understand that Quatre has enough homes that any snooping reporters or otherwise wouldn't have the foggiest idea on where to start looking for her; he has the Maganac Corps. for added protection; and lastly, their association is less obvious than yours and hers.

"And besides the fact that Quatre's sister, Dr. Iria Winner, has volunteered to be her in-house physician for the time being, oh yeah, he didn't put her in the hospital in the first place," Heero concluded with a glare.

Milliardo growled, clenching his fists and retraining his feral gaze back on his sister's husband.

"I think you'd better think twice about what you're saying to me, Heero."

"Or what?" he challenged, his voice remaining eerily calm as he stepped toward the older man with his own fists clenched.

"Just give me a reason Zechs."

Relena quickly ran to grab a hold of her husband's arm and Noin swiftly stepped forward to grab a hold of Zechs'.

"Stop it you two," Noin ordered, frowning first at Heero and then at Zechs.

"This is neither the time nor the place."

"Zechs," Noin said firmly, letting go of his arm and stepping in front of him. He looked down at her with slightly calmer eyes, but his hands were still clenched into fists.

"She goes with Quatre and that's final."

Everyone looked at her with surprise.

"It makes sense," she added hastily, waving one hand as she noticed all eyes were on her.

Noin gave her back to him again, crossing her arms. She realized maybe a little too late that she shouldn't have taken control of this one; he and everyone else would probably assume she was saying this for all the wrong reasons.

"What Heero said makes sense," she repeated more quietly, looking off to the side.

Milliardo stared at her back for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"Humph," he said finally, turning away to give his back to the entire room as well, his long hair shielding his face.

"Fine, but I don't need everyone scolding me like an errant puppy all the time."

Before anyone else could add in their two cents, Milliardo whipped around and shoved his way through the crowd.

'I can't stand to be among the lot of them a second longer.'

Noin watched the love of her life hurriedly exit, then pause at the door to throw one final thing over his shoulder.

"I'm expecting to be informed of the location, as I expect to be visiting her within the week," he barked, and with that, slammed the door behind him.

Noin let go of the breath she'd been holding, her eyes still on the space he'd been occupying only seconds before.

'And I won't go after you like a lovesick puppy this time either Zechs.'

Ever since that day, Quatre had been nervous about Milliardo showing up unexpectedly; he wasn't sure what might transpire between them, because he just wasn't sure he could smother his dislike any longer, or hide the tenderness he felt toward Dorothy.

Luckily Heero had assuaged his fears with just one phone call, letting him know they would come in two groups, and Milliardo, whether he liked it or not, would be a part of one of them, because Relena, too, would make sure of it.

Comfortable now, Quatre had been by her side, happy to be able to be alone with her for at least one day. He had been reading through and responding to various contract proposals and business memos at a small desk and chair situated in her room.

"No she hasn't awaken, but she is healing well. Besides all that, you've only been gone for a half-hour, remember?" Iria said.

"I'm glad you finally listened to me and got some food and a shower, however. You need to get some sleep soon, too. It's only about eight o'clock in the morning and you could nap until the late afternoon."

"I don't foresee her waking up before then," she insisted.

"Maybe," he mumbled distractedly, carefully taking Dorothy's delicately pale left hand into his right, taking particular care not to agitate her bandaged wrist.

"I just want to talk to her for a bit, and then I'll get some sleep."

"You know how important that is," he reminded her without looking up.

The eldest Winner sighed, her hands on her hips. "That was for when she was in a coma."

"But she hasn't opened her eyes for who knows how long, so it's like she still is in one."

Iria shrugged, dropping her arms in defeat.

"Ok, fine, but I'm coming back by nine o'clock to check her vitals and to feed her breakfast, and if you're not asleep by then, mister," she scolded, wagging one finger at him for emphasis, "there's going to be trouble."

Quatre gave his sister a mock salute. "Understood Dr. Winner."

With a shake of her blond head, she left the two of them alone again.

He smiled, gently squeezing Dorothy's cool hand after his sister's exit.

"There's no way I'm not going to be here when you wake up…or go against my better judgment ever again," he finished more quietly, his smile wavering for a moment as she remained unresponsive.

She was so thin. How could she have deteriorated so quickly? Okay, she'd been in a coma, he admitted, but…

The increased pallor of her skin didn't help make her still numerous and fading bruises any less unnerving to look at. The injuries were still right side heavy, her lower right leg in a cast, her midsection obviously bandaged under her loose, filmy white gown, and a full cast on her right arm. Her face, revealed to him from her hair being piled on top of her head in a giant bun, was still puffy, though much more thinned.

He sighed. It had been two weeks to the day.

Blip…blip….blip

'At least there's less medical equipment,' he thought, trying to remain optimistic.

'But Heero and Trowa are right; I should have just followed my emotions,' he scowled.

He set aside his paperwork for the time being and let go of Dorothy's hand. He stood up to go settle into one of the spacious room's recliners, finally conceding to sleep.

'Please wake up when I do,' he silently prayed before closing his eyes.

'Don't get your hopes up too high Quatre. You know she's probably hooked up to a ventilator and Allah knows what else,' he mentally chastised himself, as he, Relena, and Trowa hovered behind Chris while he unlocked the ambulance double doors.

"What will she look like now?" Relena whispered anxiously, but Trowa didn't feel bold enough to answer.

She had to wait a little longer to have her question answered as Noin and Zechs bounded out of the back.

Trowa had driven back the Preventer's vehicle Noin and Zechs had come in, while agents "Fire" and "Wind" had ridden in the back of the camouflaged ambulance carrying Dorothy.

"Hi, Relena," Milliardo greeted, pulling his little sister into a brief hug. She hugged him back, mumbling a "hi" against his jacket.

"Pilots," he said with a tilt of his head toward the other two before going back to hold open one of the doors. Trowa had nodded back at him while Quatre had given him a tight smile.

Noin waved to them all silently as well before she walked back to hold open the other door. A curtain still shielded the young woman away from their view as Chris climbed back inside to secure her to the stretcher.

"She's good," Chris said, sticking his head out.

"I'm going to pin back the curtain now, but can you two," he began, locking eyes with first Trowa and then Quatre, "come up here to help me lift her out? I'll secure her head, and then one of you can take the end while I take the front. We'll lift on three and I'll walk her out before the second person comes around and takes my position."

"I'll bring all of the stuff she'll need."

"Quatre, I'll take the foot for now and then you come around and take her front," Trowa decided immediately and Quatre nodded, his friend unbeknownst to him, having purposely forced him to watch where they were going rather than staring at Dorothy's deteriorated state.

Noin felt lightheaded when she woke up; she was starving. When they'd all dispersed that night, she had forced herself to drive home rather than spend another night at Relena's.

She was feeling somewhat weary of everyone's presence lately; a lot of time now she felt like she had to be extra vigilant of her body language, unsure of what they would make of any show of unhappiness at any time.

Noin looked at her digital clock, realizing that unfortunately, she had slept most of the day away: it was now 3 p.m.

'Wow, pretty bad Noin, pretty bad,' she mentally scolded herself, a small grin lighting up her face. She slowly ran a hand through her messy, jet-black hair, sitting up with a yawn.

"Mmmphed," she groaned, taking a delicious stretch. 'Shower and then breakfast for lunch.'

As she rubbed away the sleep from her eyes, memories of last night filled her head without warning.

She wasn't sure whether or not she should try and pull him out of his thoughts. He seemed to be thinking pretty hard about something.

The older Peacecraft was sitting with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed. He was staring straight ahead and his back was ramrod straight.

Noin had been observing him from the corner of her eye from her side of the ambulance the entire ride, and it seemed like he hadn't even blinked the entire time.

'He hasn't looked at me—or Dorothy—even once…'

"Noin," Zechs said suddenly, and she jumped at the sound of his gruff voice.

"Hm? Yes, Zechs?" she said, turning her head slightly to look at him.

She always fell into calling him Zechs whenever she felt less than comfortable, though it was still strangely reassuring to do so. It definitely reflected their paradoxical relationship: close, yet distant.

He remained facing forward as he spoke. "Have you ever loved anyone else, Noin?"

Without hesitation she answered.

"No, never."

He knew she loved him; she hoped he loved her.

He hummed quietly, but said nothing else.

She paused, afraid to ask, but...

"Have…you? Do you?"

It was now Zechs' turn to hesitate, but for a different reason.

"I don't know Noin…I don't know."

"You know Dorothy, Treize, and I, we grew up together, right?" he said, suddenly changing topics. Without giving her a chance to answer, he went on.

"Same social circles as children, especially since she was Treize's little cousin and all. She would come and watch us practicing our fencing or tag along with us on riding trips sometimes, even though she knew she'd get punished for her 'unladylike' behavior," he murmured, nostalgia coloring his voice.

Noin studied his face for any revealing emotion; it held none.

He abruptly turned his head to look at her and she continued to look back at him expectantly.

"So I guess you could say, I tolerate all of this Noin—all of the drama between us three because…I know the little girl behind the mask, you know? I saw her grow up, and I know, there's more to her than meets the eye."

"Some sad...some happy."

"I hope…you can understand a little better now," he said softly, turning his face away again, his long blond hair flicking around to hide his features again.

"But I knew all that…Zechs," she said softly.

He looked at her with surprise, but she ignored it, going on.

"I knew all that; I knew you grew up with her, I had an idea that's how you saw her, it's just…I can't help how I feel Zechs," she said with a sad smile.

"I can't help loving the man behind the mask either," she added more quietly, aching to reach out and stroke his face, but she knew that was entering dangerous territory.

He had to look away; it was all too much for him again.

"And I know that too Noin…and I can't either," he finished vaguely, his voice barely above a whisper.

And then they arrived, and the unexpected heart-to-heart was over.

"I grew up with you too Zechs. We came of age together, saw a war together, hell, we almost died together. We experienced a lifetime in several years—what about that?" Noin questioned aloud to no one as she washed the dishes.

She would always remember when she first saw him: they were 13-years old, and each had just entered the piloting part of their training as cadets, though in-classroom teaching sessions were still expected to be attended by everyone as well. The only difference had been that he came in as the much talked about "new arrival" arriving in the middle of the semester, seemingly out of no where.

She remembered when he had walked into her class: calm, ice blue eyes assessing everyone and everything like a battlefield before he finally settled his eyes on the instructor—Treize Khushrenada. He expectantly waited to be introduced, his face blank. Treize had smiled, said nothing of their relation, and told the class what she would later find out was only his code name, Zechs Marquise, was their newest student and to make him feel as welcome as possible.

He had ended up sitting by her and because she had surmised he was an arrogant, spoiled whelp from his initial behavior, just as most of the class had, she had remained facing forward, ignoring him as the lesson began. But before she could successfully tune him out, he had smartly rapped her desk, startling her, and as she glanced at him with peeved eyes she noticed he was holding out his hand to introduce himself again—personally.

She had been bewildered by the gesture, realizing quickly that she'd had him all wrong. Even more unpredictably, she had felt like he had always been the one thing missing from this academy and her life, all along.

The rest was history now, with them becoming fast friends, and his popularity rising immensely with his impressive skills as a pilot. He had shied away from all the attention, seemingly years ahead in maturity to his classmates, and she many times found him conversing with the instructors, rather than the students, especially Treize.

And then he had told her he was joining OZ, about to leave her, because Treize was there and he had a promise to keep. To remain by his side and feeling like it had been the right thing to do at the time, she had joined as well. He had let her know his real reason soon after and he had sworn her to confidentiality about his many secrets. By then, obviously in love with him, she had readily agreed.

"But I would have done it anyway, I admired him so much," she realized quietly.

'I'd love him the moment he'd held out his hand to me, smiling that beautiful, childlike smile, belying the personality he became infamous for throughout the academy later on.'

"Hello, once more, my name is Zechs Marquise," he smiled, casually offering his hand. His head was tilted in such a way that his then shoulder-length blond hair fell across his eyes in that coy way it always would well into his adult years.

"H-hi, I'm Lucrezia Noin," she whispered back in a stutter, still shocked, but she accepted the handshake quickly. "But everyone calls me Noin."

"I'm glad to meet you, Noin. I hope we can become friends," he continued to smile, his hand lingering around hers before he'd casually let go, turning to face forward for the lesson.

Noin felt the roar of her blood in her ears, her heart beating wildly.

'That smile…' she trailed off, her heart fluttering.

She jumped, realizing she was still facing him as he turned his head slightly to her, smiling warmly again.

She swung forward before everyone else noticed, her cheeks a little pink.

Treize had noticed, but he'd let it go, continuing the lesson and knowing that Zechs and himself recognized her from their earlier years, as she was a Baronet in her own right, so she too, had run in their circles.

Every time she saw him, Noin swore, year after year, that smile was more precious to her than her own beating heart.

"One smile...was worth all the year to me Zechs," she murmured fondly.

"Oh Zechs, when was the last time you smiled for me—or smiled at all?" she asked softly, leaving the kitchen for an early-evening shower.

'But I have to make him me, respect my feelings, so…no thoughts like that anymore.'

But she knew, infatuation, let alone love, died hard.

Quatre was just putting on his boxers when he heard her scream. He tripped and fell over, his lengths tangling in the underwear, but he was up in a split second and within minutes, dressed and rushing into her room.

'I knew I shouldn't have left her side!'

But it had been going to four o'clock, and she still hadn't woken up, and after much arguing, his sister had forced him into the shower and told her he should be expecting dinner around 5:30. She was going to give Dorothy a sponge bath and check her over again.

He knew he would never have gone otherwise, but he had—Dorothy needed her evening bath, and it had been all day like she said, and still no dice.

"What," he gasped, "what happened?"

He straightened, one hand over his heart, as he finally got a good look into the room.

Immediately, perplexed, slightly apprehensive, but nonetheless curious blue-gray eyes locked onto his as Dorothy turned to face him on her right, his arms braced against the frame of the doorway.

"And who-who's he?" she whispered, looking at Iria with wide eyes. She had just been calmed down by this woman, who had explained herself as being her doctor and that she had been in an accident two weeks ago, as well as in a coma for a time. She had more recently been just unconscious for the last few days, but all would be well, she was healing nicely, and again, this Iria Winner was a friend and her personal medical professional.

She had nodded, calming considerably, though still visibly shaken as she tried to take it all in—and then he had shown up!

"D-Dorothy? You…don't know who I am?" he asked hesitantly, taking two slow steps forward, his own blue-green eyes wide and confused.

"Dorothy? Is that my name?" she whispered again, looking at Iria again for the answers.

Iria gave her a kind smile, settling in beside her and covering the fragile woman's free hand with her own.

"Yes, Dorothy Catalonia, in fact, and it appears that you have lost your memories."

Everyone was floored with the news. Quatre had decided to meet with them all in England over dinner at Relena and Heero's house. He had surmised it would be too overwhelming for poor Dorothy to see so many people who apparently knew so much about her, as she knew nothing, if they had come to him.

"And the doctors location is still unknown as well," Trowa frowned, connecting eyes with everyone in the room, stating the obvious.

Relena looked positively dejected. They had finally gotten her back safe and sound with them all, but Fortune had turned her face away from them yet again.

"What have we done to deserve this?" she whispered desperately, turning to Heero with tear-filled eyes.

His arms immediately went around her, pulling her close to his chest. "Nothing at all, nothing at all," he whispered into her hair.

Hilde gave the two of them a sad look, her own arm wound around Duo's as she stated some of the questions that had been on everyone's minds.

"So, what do we do now?"

"What's next?"

Lady Une had been frowning in silence from her end of the couch in the living room, Mariemaia snuggled against her side. The preteen, taking a break from the wheelchair she only needed for long distances nowadays, was thinking just as hard as her mother, and the two of them said the same thing at once:

"We wait."

Everyone turned to look at them.

"Wait?" Duo asked, completely miffed. "We don't have time to waste!"

"No, they're right; Iria explained that it's retrograde amnesia it seems, but she luckily, so far, seems to be able to make new memories, just not remember one thing before that: her identity, the accident, her work," Sally explained.

"It's the best we can do in this case…especially until we find out whether the memory loss is organic or psychological: is it the brain trauma she suffered from, or is she repressing her memories, from post-trauma, or as more of a defense mechanism?"

Everyone nodded in understanding, silence filling the room again.

"She's strong, she'll get through this," Wufei said suddenly, as if that could make it all better, and everyone felt a faint sense of déjà vu at his words: simple, to the point, pulling at the secret hope in all their hearts.

"Iria's not done running her tests and has actually called in a good neurologist friend of hers," Quatre added, running a tired hand through his hair.

"So we have to wait on that as well. It may not be as bad as we think. Soon, she'll be able to enter therapy and probably be back to her old self before we know it," he smiled slightly.

Relena flashed grateful eyes at him and Trowa had to let a small smile come to his lips. If Quatre could afford to be a bit of his optimistic self once again, then they all could.

"I have some test results of my own to share," Trowa interjected quietly and all eyes were on him again.

Ding dong

"I'll get it," Noin mumbled and for a moment, everyone glanced at her, somewhat startled. She stopped herself from rolling her eyes: the back and forth of the eyes was getting ridiculous.

She knew she had been sitting in the corner in a lounge chair, silent as a mouse, and everyone had pretty much forgotten she was there—but right now, that was just how she liked it.

As she walked to the door, a knowing trepidation entered her heart.

…Which was why she didn't bat an eyelash when she found Zechs Marquise standing in front her after she opened the front door.

"I have some news," he said grimly. "Where are the others?"

Memories, memories...r e v i e w.

Angel of Mirth