Smells Like Teen Spirit
by Link Worshiper

(x) X (x)

Game 46
Muzzle

(x) X (x)

Sitting in his usual place on the team bench, Duo watched in horror as Heero missed catching an easy pass for what seemed to be the millionth time. Even Duo, who was by no means a lacrosse expert, was able to tell that Heero was quite distracted from the action at hand. It didn’t take much thinking for Duo to know exactly what was plaguing Heero’s mind, for the same thing was weighing his mind down, like a sack thrown into the ocean, filled with heavy stones.

“Yuy! Get your fucking head in the game!” screamed Wufei from behind Duo. “Don’t you dare fuck this up for us! This game is fucking crucial to securing us a place in the finals!”

Duo winced at Wufei’s rancid tone, daring to peek over his shoulder at the stiff, Chinese teen standing behind the bench. Wufei’s rigid posture, while seeming very composed and stern, was truly the picture of tenseness. But beneath all that, Wufei was a walking a fine line between maintaining calm and snapping, his quivering limbs giving away the fact that the Chinese boy was a walking bag of addled nerves.

Once again, it didn’t take rocket science for Duo to know that Wufei’s demeanor had everything to do with Meilan’s death. Hell, even he, Duo Maxwell, found himself far more subdued than usual, never taking the company of anyone other than Heero if he could help it. Even his commentary and sarcasm was much more dulled than usual, another clear indicator that something was amiss.

Duo couldn’t pretend like he didn’t see what the news had done to the school’s population in general. Certainly everyone, especially those who were close friends with Meilan, were grievous about her death. However, in addition to that, there was a clear rift in the community, and Duo blamed every bit of it on that bratty Relena Peacecraft. She had a somewhat warped, confused view on what had happened the night Solo was killed, and whenever she retold it, it made Quatre seem worse and worse. Though Duo, himself, had come to the conclusion a long time ago that the fanatical girl was starting to lose it, it disturbed him greatly to see how many people actually believed what she was saying. (Her influental way of speaking was one of the main reasons she was president of the student body.) Duo was afraid that it might enlarge the number of anti-mutant people in the area, and he silently thanked whoever was listening up there that not too many people knew he was a teleporter.

“YUY!!!” Wufei yelled, snapping the pencil he gripped tight in his fist as he watched an attacker from the other team swerve around the Japanese youth and charge towards the goal. Duo was pretty sure he saw a vein popping out of Wufei’s forehead as he irately threw the broken pencil and his clipboard down in a fit of frustration. “That’s it!” Wufei shouted, yanking the nearest player on the bench to his feet and shoving him in the direction of the sideline. “Ref! Sub, dammit!”

The referee shot Wufei a warning glance, but nodded his head, giving permission for the change to take place. It wasn’t long before Heero was slowly jogging off the field and the other player was being pushed onto it by the edgy assistant coach.

“Yuy, what the fuck hell are you doing out there?” Wufei roared as soon as Heero stepped across the white sideline. “You call that fucking lacrosse? Let me tell you something! I’ve seen fucking seven-year-olds play a better game than that? Are you listening to me? Yuy?!”

Heero ignored Wufei’s blistering shouts as he quietly pulled off his helmet and dropped his stick by Duo’s feet, sitting down on the bench beside his lover. No words needed to be said as Heero leaned his head against Duo’s shoulder, closing his eyes and letting out a long, tired sigh.

Wufei clearly didn’t like being brushed off so easily, especially when he was in such a foul mood. He stalked right over to the bench and shattered the quiet moment Heero and Duo were sharing. Rudely, he grabbed Heero by the back of his jersey and ripped him into an upright position. “Don’t you ignore me when I’m talking to you, Yuy!” he said angrily, clearly blind to the tired, weary look swirling through Heero’s dark blue eyes.

“Relax, and cut Heero some slack, Wufei. It’s been pretty rough on all of us,” Duo piped up, his voice calm, but his expression glinting with harsh seriousness. “Besides, it’s just a game.”

Wufei promptly forgot Heero and turned his frustration on Duo in less than a heartbeat. “Just a game? That”--he pointed to the teams racing back and forth across the field--“is far from ‘just a game’, as you so quaintly put it. That happens to be our shot at making it to finals!” A manic twist had taken root in Wufei’s normally even expression, making him look quite mad as he grabbed a fistful of Duo’s tee shirt.

“Don’t you touch me like that!” Duo snapped, giving Wufei a harsh shove that sent the black-haired teen stumbling back a few steps. Eyes narrowed to slits, Duo cracked his knuckles menacingly. “Just because you and Meilan were closest to each other doesn’t mean that you’re the only one who’s allowed to be upset about it, okay?” he hissed. “We’re all dealing with it our own way, doing a lotta thinkin’ and brooding and shit, and the last thing we need is some self-righteous ass coming down on us because he’s too wrapped up in his own misery to notice he’s not the only one!”

Wufei stared, dumbfounded, at the pair on the bench, his eyes wide with shock, and even a little fear. Though he was well aware that Heero and Duo had become much closer to each other since their initial meeting, he had never dreamed that Duo would so fiercely defend Heero. He had been taken aback at Duo’s outburst and quickly backed down. Besides, in the end, he knew Duo was right anyway; he was being rather selfish about his feelings and those of others. Once he was able to admit this to himself, he took another look at his friends, and for the first time, noticed the droop to Duo’s normally alert posture, and the distracted, slightly downcast look in Heero’s worn eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “My mind has been a real mess lately.”

“S’okay, ‘Fei. You can join the club; we have jackets,” said Duo, trying to lighten the mood somewhat, though his tone was still a bit flat.

Wufei’s eyes darted back and forth between Heero and Duo, now easily able to see that both of them were putting up as normal a front as they could, despite the current circumstances. “And sorry for running you guys so hard, especially when you’re clearly not up for it,” he went on, the sudden onslaught of apologies earning him a skeptical look from Heero. Wufei made a shooing motion with his hand; “Maxwell, you and Yuy should just call it quits for today and get some rest. It’s almost the end of the game anyway. Obviously, I’m not the only one who’s been having trouble falling asleep.”

It took a couple moments before Wufei’s offer truly sank in. Duo was the first to say anything. “Thanks ‘Fei,” he said as Wufei turned his attention back to the game. “You’re a pretty understanding guy when you put your mind to it.”

The long-haired teen reached down to the ground and picked up Heero’s discarded equipment as the Japanese lacrosse player slowly got to his feet, stretching his tired limbs as he did so. It was true that neither of them had been getting a decent night’s sleep. Actually being in the room at the time of Meilan’s death was quite different than just hearing about it through the grapevine, and the moment continued to haunt both Heero and Duo like a nightmare come to life. In fact, just after it had happened, Duo had shown up on Heero’s doorstep at two in the morning and had ended up spending the night huddled in Heero’s arms as they both tried their best to console one another. Since then they had been unable to sleep even a little without being together.

When they were well on their way back to the parking lot, not even bothering to stop in the locker rooms on the way, Duo felt comfortable enough to ask the question that had been bothering him for a while. “Heero?” he ventured. “What is it that has you so deep in thought lately?”

Heero jumped, as if he’d been startled, and turned his head to look at Duo as they walked, his eyes a bit wide with surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve just been noticing that you’ve been a little dazed for the past week,” Duo started a little slowly, worried that he might say something to upset or offend Heero in such an obviously delicate state. “I mean, it’s a no-brainer as to why, but you seem to be thinking about way more than just Meilan. So... I was just wondering... what is it?”

They walked in silence for a few moments before Heero answered, the only sounds the buzzing of insects and the clip-clop of Heero’s cleats on the pavement. When he did, he came to a stop, catching Duo’s arm and holding him in place beside the lamp post near the entrance to the parking lot. It was the same place they had shared that kiss the night of prom, before they had gone back to Heero’s house. “What happened to Meilan is sad, yes, and it’s hard to put it out of my mind,” he said quietly. “But whenever I do, I get this... this feeling. It’s not really a bad feeling... just... just something that’s there. A feeling of foreboding, perhaps? I don’t know....” Heero hung his head and stared down at his black cleats, which were caked with dirt and grass from the playing field.

Duo frowned slightly, putting a hand on each hip. “I think you rather do know, Heero Yuy,” he accused. “I think you’re just embarrassed to tell me... which is stupid. Now spill!”

Heero paled slightly, knowing he shouldn’t have tried to pull the wool over Duo’s eyes in such a way. However, his thoughts were so muddled and hard to understand himself that he wondered if he could even begin to explain them to another person, even if that person was Duo, the one who understood him better than any other in the world. Letting out a breathy sigh, he went on to try and tell Duo what was on his mind anyway. “But there’s so much more than just Meilan’s death!” he exclaimed, his words suddenly rushing out fast, like a pouring current. “First, Relena Peacecraft starts getting mixed up with people like Solo, and then Solo turns up dead! Before you know it, Quatre’s being led off in chains, and the stories all have him chalked up to be some kind of bloodthirsty criminal. Now, all this with Meilan... it just seems like it’s more than just coincidence. I feel like it’s all related somehow!”

“I agree with you on that one, buddy,” said Duo, leaning against the lamp post and edging it a bit closer to Heero. Bluntly, he said, “But that’s not what’s really bothering you, is it?”

Heero’s voice dropped down to a whisper so quiet, it seemed like he was hardly speaking at all. “On top of that, Trowa is missing.” He soon found himself leaning on the lamp post for support, his knees shaky and unable to hold his weight.

Heero’s lacrosse stick and helmet fell from Duo’s hands, clattering to the sidewalk by his feet. “What?” Duo gasped in disbelief, unsure if he had heard Heero correctly.

“Trowa is gone,” Heero repeated a bit more confidently this time. “I haven’t seen him for two days. Even the Jeep is gone!”

“That’s... that’s a load of shit!” Duo protested, grabbing Heero by the sleeves of his red jersey and spinning him around to face him directly. “I saw him playing goal today! What the hell are you talking about!?”

But Heero was shaking his head. “No, that wasn’t Trowa. Just our backup goalie, who plays whenever Trowa isn’t at a game,” he said. “Trowa is gone. Just vanished!”

Duo’s mind was a whirl as he tried to swallow this piece of information. Though he couldn’t claim to know Trowa as well as Heero or Quatre did, Trowa never struck him as the sort of person to just pack up and disappear without even saying a word to anyone. Duo wondered where he could have gone, or what he could possibly be doing, and asked Heero the same questions.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” said Heero, his eyes trained on the red fabric twisted around Duo’s long fingers. “There are so many variables, so many things to consider.... Trowa is the sort of person who will quietly take action on his own. I’ve never questioned it before. I figure everyone needs his own space once in a while....”

“Oh, so this is normal?” Duo wondered, though there was still panic in his voice. Things were falling to pieces all around them, like rain thundering down from the clouds and splattering on the streets.

“No, nothing quite like this,” said Heero. “Trowa’s always come back within a day when he wants to be alone.... I... I have a feeling that his disappearance also has something to do with those other things.”

“Yeah, probably,” Duo replied with a small shrug. “I mean, Tro wasn’t exactly all smiles when he found out about Q’s situation.” There was another pause in their conversation before Duo went on. “Speaking of Q, maybe we should go and pay him that visit, ya know? The poor guy’s probably chewed his hands off with worry by now.”

Heero was nodding in agreement, his eyes still entranced by the way Duo’s fingers curled around the cloth of his jersey. For some reason, he found Duo’s hands extremely attractive, with their long, bony fingers, knobby knuckles and angular edges. Gently, he twisted his arms so that he could lift Duo’s hands off of them, holding the beautiful appendages in his loose-fingered grip and watching every little twitch they made. “We have to help Trowa, Quatre and Wufei. The five of us are the only people who know what really happened that night Solo died,” he said softly. “If only for Meilan, we have to do it.”

Suddenly, they heard a loud, squealing sort of laugh coming from the nearby parking lot. The two boys swung their heads in the direction of the sound, soon spotting a few members of the cheerleading squad standing amid the rows of vehicles. Neither was really surprised to see Relena in the middle, her arms waving about as she preached her idealistic nonsense to them.

Heero could feel the bones in Duo’s hands roll beneath the skin as Duo locked his joints in stiff anger. “That’s it,” he muttered darkly, clamping his hands down on Heero’s and pulling him in the direction of the group. “I gotta see what this bitch has been saying.”

“You know you’re just going to end up fighting with her,” warned Heero, who allowed himself to be led anyway, despite the remark.

“I know, but I don’t care,” Duo said automatically, letting go of one of Heero’s hands so he could walk faster, Heero jogging quickly behind him, pausing only for a moment to use his mutation to summon his discarded equipment to his free hand. “Someone needs to set her straight, and that’s not gonna happen if we just sit back and grin at it like a bunch of fools,” Duo was grumbling as they went.

“Just don’t go too hard on her, alright?” cautioned Heero, who seemed a little concerned that just beating Relena over the head with the truth all at one time might be too much for her.

As they approached, Relena’s chatter rose in volume and became more clear. “He just snapped, went totally insane,” Relena was saying to the four girls standing around her in a half-circle. “Then the psycho went and stabbed my friend to death, the poor guy. He’d never done anything to that Winner kid, and look!”

Duo and Heero appeared within hearing range in time to hear that last bit, and just the very idea of it was enough to send steam whistling out of Duo’s reddened ears. “You don’t know jack shit about Solo, okay, Relena?” he shouted from his position a couple of feet outside their gossiping circle. “You don’t know what kind of person he was, the things he’s done to me! To many others, for that matter! And you don’t know Quatre Winner, either! So quit talking about things you don’t understand!”

Relena’s normally bright, blue eyes darkened and narrowed at the sight and sound of Duo Maxwell, her rival. With an air of confidence, she stepped forward, pushing her way between two of her other friends, so she could stand face-to-face with the longshaired mechanic and stare him down. She was about to open her mouth and say something really scathing, when she saw something from the corner of her eye. Doing a double-take, she glanced down at Duo’s hand, which, sure enough, was entwined with another. She followed the delicate wrist of the other hand, her gaze sweeping up the slim, muscular arm and over the rumpled sleeve of a red lacrosse jersey, to find herself meeting the unyielding eyes of Heero Yuy. She yelped in surprise, and then quickly regained composure, shooting a dirty look back at Duo, who just arched his eyebrows nonchalantly in response.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, doing what you’re doing, Relena,” Duo went on, his hand clamping tightly around Heero’s for silent support. “If it weren’t for Q, Solo might have done some pretty nasty shit to you, and then you’d be whistling a different tune! Why does everything have to be a drama with you?”

“I could ask the same question of you!” Relena spat back, her words overlapping the last of Duo’s. “Mind your own business! You weren’t even there!”

“Yeah, well, Wufei and Trowa both told me pretty much what happened, and they were,” responded Duo, his free hand curling into a tight fist. “Why’re you doing this, anyway?”

“Doing what?” Relena demanded to know, shifting her weight and placing a hand on one hip.

“Making Q out to be some sort of lunatic!” Duo practically leapt down her throat, accidentally tugging Heero a few stumbling steps forward as he got more into Relena’s face. “You know he’s a nice guy! He wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

“But he’s not safe, and I’m glad he’s locked away! It’s where he should be,” argued Relena. “None of your kind are, for that matter! That’s why the government really should get involved and do something about all you stupid mutants!”

Duo felt Heero’s hand twitch involuntarily in his own at the comment. Whether it was Relena’s launch against Quatre or mutants in general that had caused Heero’s slight reaction, Duo wasn’t sure, but what he did know was it pissed him off just as much. He was also pretty sure that Heero was having a hard time keeping quiet. He understood his lover’s want to keep things as placid as possible between him and Relena, but it was clear that the blond girl was treading the very fine border of Heero’s patience.

“I don’t care what it takes,” she was going on. “I’ll do anything to make sure the streets are a safe place to be, and if that means getting rid of you mutant dogs, then fine!”

Had Relena noticed the way Heero’s eyebrow had started to twitch, and the very discontent grimace that was twisting his plush, pink lips, she might have backed off, but the girl was too preoccupied with bringing Duo down. It was clear that her dislike of Duo was far beyond the simple fact that he was a mutant, and her scathing words did nothing to hide that fact.

“You’re disgusting, with the way you shamelessly flaunt your weird... weird powers!” she cried, balling her two hands into fists and holding them in front of her body as she took a menacing step in Duo’s direction. “It’s even worse the way you try and corrupt sensible, normal people! Look at what you’ve done to poor Heero! He doesn’t deserve to be pulled down to your level by a monster like you!”

That was the final straw for Heero, and before Duo could even merit Relena with an equally cruel comment, the Japanese teen had pulled Duo behind him and taken the place that Duo had just been occupying. “And just what do I deserve then, Relena?” he asked quietly. Though his voice was calm, anyone who had been listening close enough would have been able to hear the tides of anger and emotion swelling beneath that even tone.

“You deserve to be loved and respected!” said Relena, her passionate speech making her eyes sparkle in the warm afternoon sun. “You’ve worked so hard to be where you are, Heero. Don’t throw it away on the account of a stupid lowlife like him!” She pointed an accusing, quivering finger at Duo, who flipped her off in retaliation.

“Relena, I am loved and respected,” Heero answered in that same, dangerously flat voice. “If you are too blind to see that, then you clearly do not know the type of love and respect that I value and obviously would not be able to give it to me.”

Relena looked like she might actually start to cry. “You just haven’t been able to open your eyes!” she protested with a childish stomp of one foot. “You’re one of the stars of the lacrosse team! You should take full advantage of that!”

An exasperated expression crossed Heero’s face. “But Relena, I’m happy with where I am,” he said evenly, his dark blue eyes darting back in Duo’s direction. “I have everything I could ever need.”

Shock registered on Relena’s face, as if she had never expected Heero to say something like that, and then she hung her head, as if in defeat. But her downcast eyes caught, once again, the sight of Heero’s and Duo’s entwined hands, and she quickly forgot her chagrin. Her hurt was replaced with anger, and she quickly snapped back up to attention, practically snarling, “How could you be happy in the company of him?”

Heero met her ember-filled eyes with own, his voice swelling with emotion as he spoke. “Because I love him,” he said, his simple words more powerful than any other possible response. “I love him.”

As Relena gawked wide-eyed at her crush, Duo took the time to really think about the meaning of those three little words, surprisingly able to bite down the urge to rub it into Relena’s face. Duo hadn’t thrown around the words ‘I love you’ freely since he was a little boy staying at the church, and since then, even still, he was very careful about who he said them to. But come to think of it, mused Duo, Heero ain’t so easy with those words either. Am I... the only one he says them to? The only one he’s ever said them to? A sudden pang of possessiveness spawned inside of him; he didn’t want to imagine Heero ever kissing someone else.

“L-Love him, Heero?” Relena stammered, clearly not sure how to take Heero’s admission. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“Yes, Relena, I do, thank you,” Heero retorted crisply. His mess of thick, dark brown hair was a bit ruffled, reminding Duo of a wolf whose fur had been rubbed the wrong way. Then he turned his attention away from the cheerleading captain and addressed the other girls who had been standing with Relena before he and Duo had interrupted. “Please don’t assume that because a person is your leader that he or she is always right.”

“Yeah, so take the hint,” added Duo with a roll of his eyes when Heero’s comment was met with blank stares. “Come on ‘Ro; let’s get out of here before I kick something.” He quickly turned on his heels and started stalking towards Heero’s Cooper, which was parked a bit farther down the row. Heero nodded curtly at the girls before he went hurrying after his annoyed lover.

When they reached the car, Heero snapped his fingers, his psychic power instantly flipping the locking mechanism on the car. “You can’t allow her to get to you, my Shinigami,” said Heero as they both climbed into the red car. “You know she’s just trying to be vindictive, and that’s something you’re never going to be able to fix by yourself.”

Duo’s mind registered Heero’s words long enough to file them away for truth. Instead of focusing on the whole comment, though, he found himself fixated on one particular word. “What did you just call me?” he asked as Heero was flinging his helmet and stick into the back seat.

Heero froze as if he had just been caught completely off-guard. The moment of weakness was short-lived, however, and he quickly recovered. “Just a nickname,” he said smoothly as he turned back around and quickly went about inserting the key into the ignition. “It means ‘God of Death’ in Japanese. Is that not what you call yourself anyway?”

“Well, yeah,” Duo shrugged. “I can’t say I know any Japanese, but I feel like I’ve heard that word before.”

“Perhaps I’ve just called you Shinigami before,” said Heero as he twisted the key, his eyes fixated on his hand as it turned around the metal implement.

“Yeah, probably,” Duo agreed, though he couldn’t help but find Heero’s reaction rather odd. He quickly brushed it off, however, telling himself that he was just thinking to hard about things yet again.

“How does milkshakes at Gifford’s sound?” Heero’s voice cut into Duo’s internal muttering. “We can talk about what we’re going to do about helping Quatre.”

“Yeah,” Duo murmured as Heero started to back the Cooper out of its space. He looked out his window, unsure if it was Relena and her friends he was glaring at, or if it was simply his own reflection. “I’d like that very much,” he said. He was pleased to see his reflection smile back at him as he said so.

(x) X (x)

The jangle of rattling keys stirred Quatre out of his light doze. His eyes blinked open and were assaulted with the garish light that illuminated the police station’s holding cells during the day. For a moment, he found the light just a bit too bright and the cinder blocks that made up the wall ahead of him just a bit too white. Howard’s snoring in the cell across the hall was just a bit too loud, and his silence a little too unnerving.

You would think I’d be used to this by now, Quatre thought to himself as he pulled his knees closer to his chest. I guess it proves that I really am just a bratty rich kid. Duo’d laugh at me. He had been locked up, awaiting further details on his future, for almost two weeks now, and he could feel himself starting to wear thin.

The jangling keys rang louder in Quatre’s ears, the even tap-tap-tapping of the approaching officer’s boots echoing loudly in the empty hall. Quatre couldn’t imagine why anyone would be coming in at that particular hour; it was way past lunch time, and no one ever came by until dinner, unless there was the rare visitor for Howard. For some strange reason, no one had come to see him, and Quatre was starting become afraid that his friends had abandoned him. Not for the first time, he tucked his head into the dark space between his arms and folded legs and tried to disappear.

The footsteps and the key-jangling soon fell silent at a position Quatre calculated to be right outside his cell, judging from the length of time he’d been listening to the officer near. Strangely, however, instead of the usual bored or moody aura he usually felt from the policemen that made rounds through there, Quatre’s Sense was assaulted with a warm, almost loving sensation throughout his body, and for some reason, Trowa’s face appeared in his mind’s eye.

“I hear you’ve been a little bit lonely,” said an all-too-familiar voice.

Quatre’s head snapped up and swivelled in the direction of the barred entrance to his cell, where none other than Trowa Barton was standing, twirling a ring of keys around his index finger. It took Quatre a moment to get over his initial shock of seeing Trowa there at all, before he registered the light blue, police shirt Trowa wore, the matching uniform pants and the belt hung with a nightstick, a handgun, walkie-talkie and a pair of handcuffs. “Trowa, what are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes transfixed by the glittering badge on Trowa’s breast pocket. “And why are you wearing that?”

Trowa made a hushing motion with the hand that wasn’t still toying with the key ring. Assuming a rigid, at-attention posture, Trowa jerked his head at Quatre, signaling for him to come closer to the bars so they could talk easier in quieter voices. “My great-uncle helped me get a job here,” Trowa explained softly as Quatre neared. “I told him my dilemma, and he was very sympathetic to my aim.”

“And what, pray tell, was your aim?” wondered Quatre, though he already knew the answer to the question before he asked.

“To make sure you were okay. I was--I mean, we all have been really worried about you,” murmured Trowa as his eyes darted to the side, as if he was afraid to look at Quatre as he said this. “They haven’t let us come see you, and I figured this was the only way I’d be able to get access, so....”

“Trowa....” Quatre had no idea what to say to the tall lacrosse goalie. Though there were many people Quatre treasured as friends, he wasn’t quite sure if there were any who would do something like this for him. In all his years, he had never felt so wanted and loved by any one person.

His face grim, and still keeping the air of someone extremely professional, Trowa went on. “Heero’s afraid that something big is happening, that someone is pulling strings to use this whole situation to give mutants a bad name,” he said as calmly as he could, hoping not to alarm Quatre. “None of us have any idea why someone would want to do that, but I’m pretty sure Heero also has a couple leads as to who could be responsible....” As if on an afterthought, he added, “You did hear about Meilan, right?”

Quatre frowned, feeling a cloud of misery suddenly fall upon Trowa. “What about her?” he asked warily, pretty sure he would not like the answer.

“She’s dead,” Trowa whispered, his voice parched and strained, like it hurt to even say the words, as if saying it just one more time might break him. Quatre was never sure if he had ever seen Trowa look so helpless.

“She’s... what?” Quatre was taken aback, unsure of how to react. Trowa was supposed to be his rock in a moment like this, and here the poor boy looked like he had never been so lost in his life. It was then that Quatre realized that he might have to be the strong one, the one to hold Trowa up instead of constantly relying on him.

“Dead,” Trowa repeated, firmer this time. “Heero suspects that it’s no accident either. The questions all seem to be running around in the same circle. We just have to figure out where it started.”

“I... I see,” stammered Quatre, who was still trying to absorb this shocking information. “What about Wufei? Is he holding up okay?”

“Well, he’s not doing great,” Trowa answered honestly, “but considering what he’s just been through, he’s doing better than I’d expect most people to.”

“Right....” murmured Quatre softly, for lack of anything else to say.

“Well, how about you?”

“What?” Quatre suddenly startled, grabbing the bars of his cell and cocking his head awkwardly at Trowa.

“How are you holding up?” Trowa reiterated the question, his unwavering, emerald stare holding Quatre pinned in place. “You can’t fool me into thinking that you’re okay like this. Not five minutes ago, I walked in here to see you near crying. I....” Trowa trailed off, somehow finding the pained expression on Quatre’s face too much for him to go on. He knew when he had driven his point home and, unlike many people, did not feel the need to overkill.

“I’m... I’m... fine,” said Quatre with a soft sigh. He looked at Trowa hopefully, but the simple arching of Trowa’s eyebrow proved to Quatre, even without the use of his Sense, that the green-eyed goalie didn’t believe a word of it. Quatre hung his head and sighed again, this time loudly and with a trace of despair. “The truth is, Trowa, I’m losing my mind here,” he admitted. “I’m not even sure why I’m here to begin with--no one will explain anything to me, or even what’s to become of me. I’m starting to think that everyone’s just forgotten about me, and I’ll just end up dying in this godforsaken place.” By this point, tiny pinpricks of salty liquid had formed in the corners of Quatre’s eyes. “I just can’t take it anymore. I just... can’t... anymore....”

“Oh, Quatre,” Trowa said, his sorrow for the boy clear in his voice. In a completely unexpected and unprofessional-looking act, he reached through the bars and enfolded Quatre into as best a hug as he could with the barrier between them. The keys clanked against the bars as Trowa tightened his grip on Quatre. “I wish I could just whisk you out of here, but now’s not the time. I don’t have the rank to let you out anyway.”

“It means a lot to me that you even came to see me,” said Quatre as they let each other go and stepped away. “That’s all that really even matters.”

Trowa readjusted himself, smoothing his shirt and straightening his badge. “The others have wanted to see you too. I heard Duo talking about some crazy plan to rescue you.” Trowa rolled his eyes as he said this.

A low chuckle fell from Quatre’s mouth, something he had not done for quite some time. “Oh, and getting a job at the station just so you could see me, possibly get me out, is any less crazy?” he said, eyeing the pristine uniform Trowa wore. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse,” Trowa answered placidly, the comment made funnier due to his deadpan tone and even expression.

“So have I,” Quatre said softly, a pained expression flickering through his large, aquamarine eyes.

Trowa did a double-take, not sure if Quatre had even spoken at all, his voice was so quiet. He took in Quatre’s suddenly drooping shoulders and the way his golden-blond head was hung forlornly, eyes watching the tops of his shoes. It was enough to tell Trowa that whatever had sparked the comment from Quatre wasn’t a particularly happy thing. But instead of pressing the matter, he stood silently, waiting for Quatre to elaborate; he felt that it was the sort of tender subject that didn’t need to be prodded unless Quatre was willing.

“I’m sure you know that my dad doesn’t particularly care for mutants,” Quatre began, slowly turned around and taking a few steps towards the cell’s bare cot. He was rubbing his arms like he was cold, even though the place wasn’t particularly chilly. “Well, let’s just say it was no secret that he didn’t like mutants. Particularly me.”

Trowa listened, but still kept his mouth shut. It still didn’t feel right to say anything at the moment.

Quatre sat down on the cot again, still clutching himself like he was freezing. “I mean, it wasn’t always that way,” he said slowly, sniffling a little. “When I was really little, dad seemed to think that I’d grow out of the mutation, or that the medicine he’d order specially from Allah knows where would make it go away.” Quatre shook his head back and forth. “None of that did anything, obviously. If being a mutant was something I could just get rid of, then I would!” He turned his hurt-filled eyes back on Trowa, practically crying as he spoke; “If that’s what it would take for my father to love me, then by Allah, I would do it! But I....” He clenched his fists and looked down at the floor once more, whispering, “But I can’t do that. Nothing is ever that easy.”

“Life isn’t easy, Quatre.” Trowa wasn’t quite sure what moved him to finally speak, but he did anyway, and didn’t even realize what he was saying until the words were out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he regretted them or not.

Quatre looked like he was on the brink of crying, though he was doing a very good job of trying to maintain control. “But it’s not like I can help it, Trowa. It’s just the way I am,” he said slowly, stumbling over his words a little bit. He let out a small, snorting chuckle, “Ha, Duo would tell me to just forget him and move on. But can I really just forget my own father? We may not see eye-to-eye, but he’s my dad. My only dad....” He put a hand to his forehead, darts of golden hair shooting out between his slightly spread fingers.

“Then don’t forget him,” said Trowa with a shrug, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Maybe it will take him his whole life, but one day, he’ll understand.” A small smile graced Trowa’s lips as he spoke.

“How can you be so sure?” Quatre asked, pulling his hand away from his face so he could look right at Trowa.

The corners of Trowa’s lips lifted a bit higher. “I look at Duo and Heero, and that tells me everything I need to know,” he said with another lazy roll of his shoulders. Once again, Trowa was able to make something so complex and difficult seem easy.

At this, Quatre’s frown flipped over and spread into a wide grin. “Yeah, Trowa, you’re right,” he said, rubbing at one eye to wipe away the salty dampness there.

“I know,” answered Trowa with that same, cunning smile. Suddenly, there was a sound from the end of the hall, like someone else was approaching the cells. Trowa suddenly stiffened, smacking the keys into his palm with a simple flip. He nodded curtly at Quatre, saying hastily, “Don’t worry, alright? I’m working on it every day.” With that, he quickly spun on his heel and hurried down the hall, leaving Quatre with a very pleasant feeling of comfort blooming in his chest.

(x) X (x)

a.n.: Sorry about the giant delay! Yeah, yeah, I know you had to wait a whole week for an update! Boo hoo; cry me a river. Well, Maxwell (my computer, that is) is back and in action with a new stash of RAM and a pretty new mouse track-pad. Ooh, thank Shinigami for the Apple Geniuses (and the sales guy at the Apple Store who got into a conversation with me about The Smashing Pumpkins ^__^)! Uhm, yeah, so I have a lot of catching up to do--it’s amazing what just a week will put you behind on!

Oh yeah, and the chapter title is a Smashing Pumpkins song. Yay Billy Corgan!

<< Last
Next >>