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We Were Promised Jetpacks
All Aboard the Merry-Go-Round
A week had passed, and he had gotten nowhere.
He had wasted the days drilling a bunch of runaways in the shadier part of town, but there was apparently some unwritten law among them all that she was an unspeakable topic, particularly when it came to 'outsiders'. He was reaching a breaking point. They all knew her. They just wouldn't talk.
Duo gave a yell of frustration, kicking a nearby rock into the debris of some half collapsed building. The entire area was like that, broken, in pieces. Hardly any of the washed out buildings had roofs or all four walls. Runaways, orphans, those forgotten, they peered out at him from the rubble. He obviously didn't belong here, not on their turf.
"Christ, you're back again?" a voice growled.
Duo turned to face a small group of teenagers. They were the leaders of a band of kids, a pseudo gang that was more for survival than anything else. They took in all the younger people in the area, and this place was their domain.
The group stood behind a single boy, their leader, the one who had called out to him. He was tall and sandy blonde, with steely brown eyes. His trademark, a dirty black bandanna, was secured tightly around his head. Duo would guess he was about his age, though it was hard to tell. He knew people aged differently on the streets. Kids grew up fast, too fast.
"Thought you got the message that we don't know anything 'bout that girl of yours," he sneered.
"Yeah, well, what can I say? I'm a stubborn guy, and I'm pretty damn good at telling when I'm being fed lies," he replied with a dismissive air.
One of the younger punks jerked forward, but a single motion from Luke stopped him in his tracks.
"Look, we've been pretty accommodating with your little search, but we've not too patient. I'll be straight with you, 'cause clearly it hasn't made it through that thick skull of yours yet. I don't want to see you around here again, got it?"
Duo narrowed his eyes. Luke was a little bigger than himself, but he knew he could take him. His eyes shifted to the rest of the group. They might be a problem. The numbers were against him. He needed to think fast.
"Look here boys, I don't mean to cause any trouble, see. I just know you know who I'm talking about. Simply tell me what I need to know and I'll be out of your hair."
Luke crossed his arms and stared him down. "And then what?"
Duo didn't understand. "Huh?"
Luke gave him a look as if he were slow. "After you find her, then what? What do you plan on doing?"
Duo faltered for a moment. He hadn't actually thought that far ahead. So far the plan was really just 'find'. Anything past that brought about to many 'whys' and 'what ifs'.
"Exactly. When you can answer that, we'll talk," he declared. "No promises, though."
Duo watched speechless, as the group retreated back into the rumble.
He needed to punch something.
.:::.
"Sir, I'm very sorry to bother you, but you have a woman on hold on Line 3. I tried to take a message, but she insisted it was urgent."
"Don't worry about it. Thank you, Mrs. Morgan."
The secretary bobbed her head and slipped out the door.
Quatre rubbed his temple. He regretted not asking for a cup of coffee, while Mrs. Morgan was still in the room. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept for more than four hours at a time. The finishing construction of X-18999 had been going badly. They had passed their projected completion date last week, while in reality they were hardly even past the half-way mark. Shipments of faulty and defective supplies had caused countless structures to collapse, resulting in the need for even more repairs than they had begun with. On top of that even more delays had been caused by the seemingly endless breakdown of machinery. Quatre was completely overwhelmed. He simply couldn't stand any more bad news.
He pressed down on Line 3. "Quatre Winner speaking, how ma-"
"Quatre!?"
The blonde jerked to attention. "Hilde? What's wrong?"
"What do you think?" She questioned, sarcastically, but her eyes betrayed her panic and worry. "It's Duo, of course! I haven't heard from him in three days. Last thing he told me was that he was getting closer, whatever the heck that means, and that he wouldn't come home until he found whatever it is that he's looking for. Quatre, what is going on? What did he find? What has he gotten himself into now that he can't even manage a ten second, 'I'm alive and will be home within the next century' phone call?!"
Quatre rubbed his temples. Duo was really taking this way too far.
"Quatre, I know you're really busy and all, but I just-I didn't know who else to turn to…"
"No, Hilde, its fine. What else are friends for, right? Give me a few days, and I'll bring him back. You have my word."
Hilde's green eyes softened. "You really are an angel, Quatre."
He laughed sheepishly.
Maybe this little vacation would be just what he needed.
.:::.
"So I hear ya got an answer for me braid boy."
Duo had been led into one of the more put together buildings in the area. Its front and roof had by some miracle remained in one piece over the years. It was certainly the only one of its kind on the entire block.
He took a long, obnoxiously casual look around the area. The downstairs was one huge room, crammed full of all sorts of junk. A massive pile of torn and weathered sleeping bags, blankets, and pillows lay in a heap in a corner, washed out from use. Half of what was once a chalkboard leaned against a far wall. A hazy, smeared map was sketched messily over its surface. The left side of the room was filled with all sorts of metal and broken electronics. Duo caught sight of TVs missing screens, microwaves without doors, and a collection of cell phones all antenna-less.
In the center of all the chaos was the oddest arrangement of tables Duo had ever seen. There were beat-up plastic ones missing legs, and heavy wooden ones covered with spiral engravings that would have been more at home in an antique shop.
The blonde sat at the largest, center table, giving him the evil eye. Boys of all ages stood tensely around him.
"Get rid of your little posse, and we'll chat," Duo requested, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking around disinterestedly.
The rising tension in the room almost made him want to laugh. These kids seriously needed to loosen up.
Luke narrowed his eyes at the brunette. "Fine," he relented, curiosity getting the best of him. "Everybody out."
"But boss-"
"Out."
The teens shouldered noisily past Duo, making sure to make clear their hatred of the outsider.
Duo watched them go through half lidded eyes and with a sarcastic smirk.
"Great bunch of kids you got there," he remarked, as the door slammed close. "Real charming."
He let out a little chuckle at his own joke.
Luke ignored his comments and got right to the point. "Your answer?"
He wiped the grin off his face. He needed to be completely serious for this.
He took a deep breath.
"I don't have one."
Luke's chair screeched loudly over the wooden floors. As the blonde stood, Duo was suddenly very aware of the fact that this guy was easily six feet tall.
"Out."
He raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Now, hold up a minute, man. I don't have an answer, but I do got an explanation. So how 'bout you just sit back down for a moment and hear me out, okay?"
Luke crossed his arms and leaned back against the table. His expression made it clear that Duo better have something damn good to say. Duo chose not to point out the fact that he wasn't actually sitting down.
"Look, I just need to talk to her, okay? She's an old friend. I'm not going to hurt her or anything, got it?"
Duo cringed at his own words. He shouldn't have to be justifying his reasons to this punk. It was all just too close, too personal, to be talking about it like the daily weather.
"Old friend, huh?" he prodded, "and just how old are we talking?"
Duo blinked. He didn't expect that question. Just when exactly did he meet her? Three years ago? Two and half? He couldn't even remember.
"Eh, three years ago…?" he forced out.
"You don't sound so sure," Luke jabbed with a sarcastic smile.
"Look, I don't keep a timeline of my life, okay? It was over two years ago, I'm sure of that. Jeez."
Luke's steely brown eyes studied him intently. A little too intently. Duo felt his blood begin to boil at the thought of this guy judging him, deciding whether he was 'worthy' or not. He hated self-righteous people like him.
Luke abruptly broke his stare and turned back to the desk. When he turned back around, he was clutching a small scrap of paper. He held it out to Duo after some hesitation.
"Be there tomorrow at three. Talk to the old mechanic. He'll be able to give you some answers."
Duo sucked in his frustration and accepted the bit of paper. He felt as if he was being lead around a circle with her in the center. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't do anything more than skirt around the edges.
"Thanks, man," he acknowledged, though he would decide if he really meant it tomorrow at three.
"Yeah, well, as far as I'm concerned, this never happened," Luke told him flatly.
"Fine by me," he replied, casually, reaching for the door. He paused for a moment. "Wait, why three?" He glanced back over his shoulder curiously at the young leader.
"Because then she won't be there."
.:::.
"Oh, Quatre, it's so good to see you." Catherine Bloom cried, as the blonde's face appeared on the screen before her.
"It's good to see you, as well," he replied politely. He took notice of the piles of boxes around the house. "I see the move is coming along well."
Catherine's face darkened, "yeah, it's coming along alright."
"Is something wrong?"
Catherine made an effort to look a bit brighter, "it's not that big of a deal. I just get worried sometimes. It's just that Trowa's been so quiet this last week or so, and I don't know if I really made the right decision by agreeing with him. I don't want him to think I'm pushing him away…"
Quatre wondered distractedly if he had sign taped to his back announcing in neon, flashing letters, 'Tell me your problems!' He made a note to ask Mrs. Morgan for Tylenol.
"Well, Trowa's a really quiet person and I'm sure-"
Catherine made an exasperated noise. "Quatre, I know exactly just how quiet Trowa is." Her face lost some of its annoyance. "But this, this is just different. He's even quieter if you can believe that's possible. And he's, well, he's distracted all the time, like he's in his own little world or something. I'm worried that he's regretting moving out, but I just don't know how to approach him about it." She stopped to catch her breath.
Quatre had been afraid of this, Trowa's reaction. He really could use that Tylenol about now.
"Catherine, I really don't think he's worried about the move. He was telling Duo and I about it just last week, and he seemed pretty excited, well, as excited as Trowa can be."
The brunette scrunched up her face and narrowed her eyes. Her hands moved to her hips.
"Quatre Raberba Winner, you're hiding something. You know something I don't about why Trowa's acting all weird, don't you," she accused.
Quatre blushed scarlet. "Look, Catherine, it's really not that big of a deal, nothing you need to bother yourself with…"
She gave him a long, hard look before deflating. "Even after all these years, you boys just can't help keeping secrets from us, can you? Still trying to protect everyone around you, carrying your burdens to spare everyone else…you all really haven't changed at all." She let out a great big sigh.
Quatre felt even guiltier.
Catherine rebounded unexpectedly. "Well, I'm sure you weren't calling just to listen to me complain, were you? Trowa's actually not here right now, but he should be back any second now. I just sent him down the street to pick up some groceries, anything to keep him from staring off into space like a bump on a log."
Quatre was beyond relieved. "Actually, that's fine Catherine, I'll just leave a message with you if it's alright. I won't be able to come to the performance Saturday. I'm really sorry, but some urgent business came up, and I can't make it out to L3," he rushed out, hurriedly.
Catherine blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. It's such a shame too. We're supposed to be pulling out all the works this weekend. It's the last show of the season, you know. Tickets have been selling like crazy. Of course, though, we got you a VIP seat center row, but I suppose I can always give it to Philip. He hasn't actually come see us perform yet. Can you believe that? We've been dating for almost a year now, too."
Quatre tried to interject, "I'd love to stay and chat, Catherine, but I'm very busy and-"
Catherine either didn't hear him or chose to flat out ignore him. "He works the night shifts, right, so his only night off is Sunday, the one day we don't perform. But he's been telling me he needs a day off, so maybe I can convince him to take Saturday off…"
"That's a great idea! You should hurry and call him now!" Quatre responded, eagerly, hand inching towards the phone's 'end' button.
Catherine checked the clock. "No, its too late to call him now. He's already started his shift, and it's practically impossible to get in touch with him when he's running around that hospital. He's a surgeon you see and-"
She was interrupted by the sound of a door opening. As she turned away from the phone, Quatre resisted the urge to bang his head on his desk.
"Trowa! You're just in time! Guess who I have on the phone for you!?"
He seriously considered simply hanging up now. All he would have to do is just push that little button and-
"Hello Quatre." Trowa's face appeared on the screen.
He cursed his own politeness.
"Good evening," he replied half-heartedly.
"You look like hell."
"Thank you for noticing."
The brunette raised an eyebrow at the blonde's unusual show of cynicism.
Quatre rushed to cover it up. "Look, I have to go, but I was just calling to tell you that I won't be able to make it Saturday. I'm very sorry. I know we've been planning this for awhile."
"Did something happen at the construction site?" Trowa asked after a moment's pause.
"Yes, and, well, no, not really, at least not recently, anyway, thank god."
Quatre faltered when he realized he had just given up his only legitimate excuse.
"But, well, you see, I have to, no, I need to, eh-"
"Quatre, lying will only make me worry more."
He resisted the urge to collapse against his desk. He just couldn't win with anyone today.
The two sat in silence for awhile. Quatre knew Trowa could wait all night for an answer. His patience was limitless. Quatre, however, could not wait forever. His head was pounding more and more by the minute.
He closed his eyes for a moment, already regretting what he was about to do.
"I got a call from Hilde, today."
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