Surviving on Your Own
Falling
With the weekend over, everyone has to pitch in with dismantling the tent. We're going to L4. I'm nervous and excited about this. Quatre's on L4, but I won't go see him. I'd have nothing to say because I'm back to not say anything anymore. But just knowing I'll be on the same colony as him makes me somewhat happy.
This will be the third time we've gone to L4 over the last eighteen months. Each time I tell myself I'll pay Quatre a visit, but I never do. I'll stand across the street and hope for a glimpse of him, that I have yet to receive.
Cathy has been watching me like a hawk since my almost fall a month ago. She's not bothered to speak to me, which I'm grateful for. I don't need her hounding me on eating and sleeping. I'm eating fine. And I'm sleeping...hardly ever. Maybe I should get this checked out. I'm starting to resemble a zombie.
This insomnia shit is getting bad, it's the point where I can, literally, see things happening in slow motion. I think I've been having small hallucinations as well. Sometimes I feel like someone's watching me. I've also been falling asleep sporadically. I'll be in the middle of doing something, or just sitting in my trailer, and I'll nod off. But it's only for about five maybe ten minutes at a time. I don't even notice it until I'm awake.
Alright, the tents down and we're all packed. Time to get moving.
"Trowa? Trowa?" Someone's shaking me. I open my eyes, damn I guess I fell asleep. "Trowa, you're not okay." It's Cathy, and I've been asleep for...six minutes according to my watch that I was staring at before passing out. "We really need to get you to a doctor," she says, her voice and eyes full of worry.
I shake my head 'no'.
She looks displeased, but not surprised. "I'm sorry for hitting you," she whispers. I shrug. Cathy frowns and asks, "Why won't you let me help you?" And she walks away, knowing I won't open my mouth to give her any kind of response. Honestly Catherine, there is nothing you can do to help me.
"Trowa!" I turn to see Manager. "Help the crew load the lions onto the craft! They're acting squirrelly." Heh, that's a funny way of putting it.
The lions are already in the cargo hold, but they're nervous. Stalking back and forth in their cages, roaring at anyone who comes close. They tend to get like this when we fly. They can sense they're being moved and they don't like it. I understand, I don't like it when others force me to move either.
I grew up as a mercenary, a band of rebels moving place to place. And now I'm with another group of misfits that move about. I think it was that kind of familiarity that attracted me here in the first place. All the traveling has worn me down, I would like to stay in one place and call it 'home'. I don't think I will be that fortunate for that though.
The lions are like me. They want a home and to be free but they're caged. My cage is my own doing, but a cage none the less. Maybe if I knew what I wanted out of life then I could be free. Or maybe I should just wander around the galaxy until I find that freedom. I'm not sure what to do.
I kneel by the lions cage and reach my hand inside. Sasha is much more anxious than her lover Rolo. She usually comes to me, but right now she's eyeing me suspiciously. I understand, I haven't been my usual self lately. Or for a while for that matter but still.
Sasha makes her way over slowly towards me. Yes, come here pretty girl, I won't hurt you. She comes close, nuzzles my wrist and forearm, all the while keeping her brown eyes focused on mine. Her brow furrows as she growls at me. Before I can pull back she's locked her jaw around my arm. Fuck! It hurts!
With my arm still in her mouth, I take deep breaths. If I panic now she'll bite harder. I can't scream. I can't move. Sasha could easily rip my whole arm off. But goddamn! All I want to do is rip my arm for her jowls and scream. She has never attacked me like this before!
Let me go, I plead with my eyes. I see her eyes widen, her bite loosens, and then I hear something zip through the air. In a nano second there's a dart in her neck. She looses her hold on me, and falls to the floor of her cage. Rolo roars.
I turn, still kneeling to see who shot Sasha with the tranquilizer. It's Catherine. Why does she always have to be there when I turn around?!
"I wasn't about to let that lion eat you," she says, still holding the dart gun like it's an assault rifle. With her dexterity and aim she could have been a good soldier. "Lets bandage up your arm."
I nod in agreement even though I'm mad at her for hitting Sasha with a dart, she was going to let go on her own.
My wounds aren't that bad, just punctures where her teeth fell I to my flesh. I've had more serious wounds. But there is a good deal of blood.
Cathy bandages me up with a forlorn expression on her face. I reach up my uninjured right hand and touch her face. Catherine, it's okay. I'm okay. I try to speak through my eyes. Tears build up in hers, "Even the cats know you're not you, Trowa. I can't do anything to bring you back because you won't let me. But I don't care!" She exclaims. "I'm here whether you like it or not! Whether you speak or not. I'll always be by your side!" She pauses as her tears finally fall. "I'm here for you, and I love you Trowa. Just remember that," she whispers as she finishes wrapping my arm.
She gets up to leave. I want to grab her and verbally tell her that I love her too, but I just sit where I am. She walks away.
The next day we land safely on L4, we disembark and make our way over to where we will be setting up. It's late so we'll be setting everything up in the morning. In my trailer, I change the dressing on my arm and inspect my wound.
It's not that bad, just a few deep punctures. If Sasha had shook her head, I would have lost a lot more flesh and blood. I wonder why she did it. The lions have never been anything but comfortable with my presence.
I pull on a blue long-sleeved shirt, grab a black zip up jacket and leave my trailer. I walk through the dark streets of L4. The nights here are colder than on L3. I hop on a bus and ride it a good fifteen miles away. I get off at my stop, and walk another three blocks until I'm standing across the street from a very large house with a winding driveway with a gate blocking the entrance. The gate has a large 'W' created into its wrought iron frame work.
I do this every time I come to L4. The Winner estate is huge and magnificent in all its glory. Maybe one day I'll walk up to that gate, press the intercom bottom and request entrance. I'm sure Quatre would mind me visiting him unannounced, but I just can't do it yet. Something's holding me back, telling me it's not time yet. Plus, I'd like to speak to him when I do.
The whole place is dark, it lacks any signs of life. I wonder if he's even here. I know he travels a lot for work. I really hope he's enjoying what he does.
A figure appears around the corner and walks towards me. It's Catherine. What the fuck, she followed me here? I swear to God, she's like my fucking shadow! I turn my gaze back to the mansion as she stops beside me.
"I thought you might come here," she says. "Every time we come to L4 you make a visit here, don't you?" It's a rhetorical question. "Have you seen him since the war ended?"
I shake my head.
She looks towards he estate. "He must be a pretty busy guy now, huh. Why haven't you talked to him? Not that you talk these days to anyone anyways," she ends her statement with an annoyed tone.
I shrug.
We stand in silence for a good ten minutes. I hear her expel a heavy sigh. "Alright, well I'm going back. Come home soon, Trowa," and she walks away. Do I have a home?
I watch her leave. I turn my head back to the house in time to see a light turn on. Through one window on the second floor of this giant mansion, I see a figure with blonde hair ascend the staircase. This is the first time I've gotten a glimpse of him.
Quatre...
Thursday is spent getting everything set up. I made the mistake of sitting down after eating half a salad for lunch and passed out. I slept for eight minutes. I need to go see a doctor soon. These little bouts of falling unconscious are bad. I need regular, real sleep. I'll have to speak, or bring a pen and a pad of paper. This has gone on for too long. I'll go over the weekend.
I'm dressed and waiting for my turn to perform. Sometimes I feel like a sideshow freak when I'm on stage. And in many ways I am.
Tonight is a big show. Longer than our usual ones since it's Friday. I've already done my trapeze routine, and now I'm waiting to take part in another act which will be followed by mine and Cathy's daredevil knife throwing bit.
The lights go down, I make my way over to the hoop that awaits me. I place myself on it. The lights go on and the act begins. In the center of the stage are two very large black bears, and Leah the bear tamer. Three clowns, including myself, sit on metal hula hoops attached to chains.
We're hoisted up into the air, where we do little stunts of falling through the hoop. It's more like a choreographed dance really. The hoop spins as we dangle, the pull ourselves up to complete more maneuvers high above the ground while the animal act goes on below and the bears do tricks.
It's while I'm up here that I see a lone figure by the entrance of the tent. He or she is cast in shadow from the light pouring in from behind the person. I keep my eyes focused as best I can on this person while I twirl through the air. Something's telling me I know who it is, but I can't see them, just the outline of a body in the darkness.
The figure walks back out and is gone before the act is half way through. We finish our stunts, and I seat myself safely on the hoop. Lethargy and tiredness rushes over my body before we're lowered back down. I feel my grip loosen on the cold metal hoop, and I hear the collective gasp and screams of fright from the audience as my world goes black.
As I emerge from the fog, I hear the steady beeping of a heart monitor and the pressure of an IV needle in my arm. I'm in a hospital, but why? What happened? I try to open my eyes but the light hurts. I groan.
"He's awake," a male voice says. A man opens my eyes and flashes a bright light into them. Damn that hurts, fuck off.
"How is he?" I hear Catherine ask. Horrible, I feel horrible.
"Just a serious concussion. I'm surprised he didn't break anything from falling that high up," says what I assume is the doctor. "Do you know what caused the fall?" He asks.
"No, I don't. He's usually so careful," she says. "Trowa, can you please tell us why you fell?"
Damn I'm going to have to speak. "Passed out," I rasp. My vocal cords strain and send me into a coughing fit hurting my throat even more. My whole body tenses as I cough and I feel like a giant bruise, sore everywhere.
"Do you know why you passed out?" The doctor asks.
"Insomnia," comes out sounding like a gruggle.
"How long have you been having problems with sleep?"
"Months."
"How long have you been having these moments of falling unconscious?"
"A few weeks," I gruff out. Cathy sighs disappointedly.
"He hasn't been eating much either," she informs the doctor.
"Alright, I'm going to give you something to help you sleep," he says to me. "The persciption will be mild. If it's not enough contact me and I'll give you something stronger. I also recommend seeing a psychologist. Insomnia is usually triggered by emotional stress. If you like I can refer you to someone I know."
I shake my head, and that little movement feels painful, like I've been shot in the head rather than falling from some absurd height. I pinch my eyes closed tightly to fight off the pain. Cathy sighs my name, again sounding disappointed and sad. I'll take the meds, but I don't want to go to a shrink.
"You'll be staying here for the next few days," the doc tells me.
"Fine," I murmur and fall back into unconsciousness.
I spend all of Saturday drifting in and out of consciousness. It feels so damn good to sleep again. I want to stay a sleep for a long time. I don't want to wake up and deal with the world. I just want to sleep and dream. I want to fall into a deep endless sleep and just keep falling, falling, falling.
I left the hospital early this morning. Cathy drove me back to my trailer. She didn't say anything except that she got my prescription for me. The ride was quiet after that, which I was thankful for. I feel better and more rested than I have in long time.
I pick up the paper outside my trailer and go in. Scanning several pages, I see my incident posted on page seven and eight. Great, they have a photo of me as well.
I take three of pills from the bottle and lay on my bed. I just want to sleep, and I still feel like a human bruise. I hope my story isn't in too many papers. This whole thing is just so damn embarrassing.
After laying for thirty minutes I finally drift off.
Oi, I'm having trouble developing Trowa. Any suggestions would be very welcomed.