by Anne
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the characters in one piece, more or less, when I'm finished, but hold no liability for any physical injury or psychological trauma sustained by them in my fiction.
Thanks to Linda and Misanagi for beta reading.
AC 195
The darkness wouldn't leave him. It followed him, no longer hidden in the shadows but becoming more daring, allowing itself to be shown for what it really was as it stepped into the light of the stars.
Quatre moaned, kept his eyes closed and shifted his head on the pillow, desperately seeking the solace of sleep. It was hot, so very hot, but shouldn't it be cold? He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself, reaching out for the one person who could anchor him, save him from himself.
No. No. No.
"Trowa," he whispered, sitting bolt upright in the bed, shaking. Trowa was gone, dead. The darkness had claimed him. Quatre was alone.
"Quatre?" Heero knocked at the door, but entered before waiting for a response.
Rubbing his eyes, Quatre attempted to give Heero a smile. "I'm fine," he lied.
"You cried out in your sleep, Quatre," Heero said. "That does not suggest that you are fine." He walked across the room, stopping at the foot of the bed, seemingly unsure what to do or say next.
"I'm sorry I woke you," Quatre apologised quietly. "I won't do it again."
Heero raised an eyebrow. "Is that a promise you can keep?" he asked. "You have been unable to sleep ever since we arrived in Sanq. Relena spoke to me last night. She is concerned about you too."
"Too?" Quatre sighed. He hadn't realised he had been so transparent, or so noisy. The dreams were growing more disturbing, to the point where he was almost too scared to sleep. He had been fine while they were in the custody of the Alliance troops, but that was before he had lost his sense of Trowa.
"I am not an unfeeling person, Quatre. You cared for me when I needed help, enabled me to see through the illusions that Zero showed me." Heero's voice softened. "Trowa knew you better than I did. On our journey here, I learnt what he meant when he claimed that you were not acting like yourself."
"He was wrong." Quatre turned his head away. "He didn't know me as well as he thought he did. I killed him. Maybe it was just a matter of time before I would have anyway?" Quatre had thought he had loved Trowa. Now, he wasn't so sure. How could he have fired upon the person he loved?
"It wasn't you. It was Zero." Heero said the words so matter-of-factly that Quatre was tempted to believe him.
However, he couldn't risk ignoring the truth. He had done that already and it had cost Trowa his life. "It was me, Heero." Quatre forced himself to look at Heero. "I'm not the person you think I am. I knew exactly what I was doing. The colonies were arming themselves. I was ridding them of their weapons, on the pretense of making the people safe again. I lied to myself. I built Zero for revenge. Pure and simple." He sighed. "Except revenge is never simple. It backfired on me, and cost me the life of a dear friend. My so-called strategy was flawed."
"You are flawed, Quatre. You are human. None of us are perfect." Heero sat down on the end of the bed. "What gives you the right to judge yourself so harshly? We have all made mistakes, and we will continue to do so."
"You didn't know who was on that shuttle," Quatre pointed out reasonably. This was not the same, as much as he appreciated Heero trying to help.
"You didn't know that Zero was even a part of that Gundam when you built it," Heero countered. "You told me that you built Wing Zero. You did not intentionally build the cockpit system."
"I was referring to the Gundam," Quatre said testily, annoyed at himself for the slip, and that Heero was right. While he was able to blame the system for this, it shifted the blame off himself, made it easier to ignore the darkness within that terrified him.
"Trowa may still be alive," Heero said, shrugging. "There is no point in wasting energy mourning him until you know. We need you, Quatre."
"I know." Quatre bit his lip, ignoring the last part of Heero's statement. "Don't ask me to explain, but I know he is gone." It was the only thing that made sense. Trowa was gone, and in his stead was a darkness that could only mean death. A cold lingering death, floating amongst a graveyard of stars.
"Sometimes what we think is truth is only our perception of what we allow ourselves to believe." Heero shook his head. "There is a time for dwelling on the past, but we don't have the luxury of that now." He was quiet for a moment, watching Quatre intently. "You need to choose, Quatre. Fight with us, or give into your fears and grief."
"I'm not sure I can, Heero." Quatre fought the urge to squirm under Heero's gaze.
Heero stood and walked over to the door. "It is your decision, Quatre. Surrender now, or fight. I know which one Trowa would have wanted you to choose." He left the room closing the door behind him.
"I have already surrendered," Quatre whispered, hugging his knees. Upon losing his sense of Trowa, something Quatre had clung to since the time they had first met, he had felt as though a part of himself had been swept away.
Coming to a decision, he swung his legs over the bed, the floor cold against his bare feet, his eyes slightly unfocused as he moved to stare at the stars outside. He would fight; make Trowa's sacrifice mean something. Do whatever it took.
In the corner of his heart, something stirred, and brushed against Quatre's consciousness, against his space-heart. Quatre smiled and rubbed at his chest. Heero was right. And in fighting for a future he had hoped they might share, he would keep Trowa alive.
He and Trowa had surrendered to each other when they first met. He would not surrender to anyone else. Not even to himself.
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