By: Spooks
~ ~ ~ ~
As soon as the other three men had left the room, Trowa rose and closed the door behind them. He stood very still for a moment, his hand on the doorknob, and took a deep breath before settling down on the carpet in front of Quatre.
The blond man looked at him with sharp eyes, his mouth set in a thin, angry line. His shoulders were bunched into tight squares, framing his tense neck. “What?” The end of the word cut off abruptly, as though snipped.
“I think that’s what I should be asking,” Trowa replied as he pulled one of Quatre’s hands into his own, holding it. “What was that all about? Why do I have the feeling that your whole speech to Wufei had other implications?”
Quatre snatched his hand back, out of Trowa’s grasp. “I need to think.”
Trowa shrugged, but his face was tight. “Fine. Take your time. I’ll wait for you.”
“That’s always it, isn’t it? You’ll wait,” the blond whispered. He scrubbed his fingertips across the carpet beside him. “I think that’s the problem.”
“I don’t--What? It’s suddenly bad for me to be considerate and caring and try to understand when you get in one of these neurotic fits?” Trowa looked incredulous. He leaned forward. “And let me tell you, love, you have these fits a lot. You get stressed over the most bizarre things, and meanwhile, I help you pick up the pieces. It’s not easy. In fact, it hurts.”
“It hurts? It hurts!” Quatre spat out, his face turning red. “How can my problems hurt you?”
“Do you really need to ask that?” Trowa shot back. He paused and took a long pull of air. “They hurt you, so they hurt me. Half the time I feel like I have to walk on eggshells around you because I’m afraid that I’ll set you off. Listen to what I’m trying to tell you! What I’ve been trying to tell you for a long time! Damnit, Quatre, you’re smarter than this.”
Quatre took a series of shallow breaths. He clenched and unclenched his fists against the carpet. All he could feel from Trowa was frustration. He swallowed thickly. “I’m trying, Trowa, but I’m not as observant when I’m this close to a situation. I care too much sometimes, and that clouds my judgment. Could you please be blindingly obvious and explain what your just meant?”
“All right, but only if you will tell me what’s going on in that head of yours when I finish,” Trowa said, his voice perfectly even. Too controlled.
“Agreed.”
“I’m sorry, but these things might hurt you to hear them, Quatre,” Trowa locked his gaze with Quatre’s. “I love you. You know that. And I know you love me. But lately all I get from you are your problems. You’re always so stressed out by the business, or by the formalities of playing host, or even by something as arbitrary as the phone bill. Others may not notice it, but I do. I feel the need to help you relax so that you don’t have a nervous breakdown. You pile too much on yourself, even when you’re taking a vacation from work. Has it ever occurred to you that I may have problems of my own that I may need your help with? And not financially.”
“Not financially? What is that supposed to mean?” Quatre’s voice was sharp.
“Nothing more than it sounds, and it’s not the issue right now,” Trowa returned with a sigh. He rubbed his forehead.
“No, wait. It is important,” Quatre scrapped his knuckles back and forth over the fabric of his pants. “You know perfectly well that I have a lot of issues stemming from my status and wealth, and you know I’m paranoid about it. When you say something like that it needs some sort of back up. Even if it was a slip, it was slip you made for a reason. I need clarification, because if you don’t tell me, who will?”
He paused, then glared at Trowa with fierce eyes. “Tell. Me. What. You. Meant.”
“It’s just that sometimes you let material things, or even just social things, get in the way of what you know is important. Money has less to do with what I said than you think, and it’s not what I was getting at. It wasn’t even important,” Trowa growled in frustration. This was not going well. “You’re extremely adept at fixing monetary problems, Quatre. It’s just that sometimes while you’re dealing with those sort of purely transient things you let other parts of your life suffer the consequences. You take on too much and therefore miss out.”
Quatre opened and closed his mouth a few times, his face suddenly a shade paler. He swallowed and ground his teeth together for a painful moment. His voice was quiet, and sad. How long had this been brewing? Well, for better or for worse, Quatre had a hunch that something important was about to happen. Something loomed.
“So what have I been missing, Trowa? Let me know, right now. What is it that you need from me? You know my problems, so help me catch up on yours. You said you had them, so spill, damn it.”
Trowa took a moment and forced himself to ignore the angry but slightly lost look in Quatre’s eyes. Suddenly, he felt extremely nervous. “I only have one big problem, and it’s fairly simple. I want you. Forever. But I’m afraid that if I ask, that in and of itself will become another source of stress for you, and I just can’t stand the thought of that. I would hate to be just another cause for your pain.”
Quatre blinked rapidly. “Oh.”
Trowa just watched him, a torrent of emotions in his even green stare.
Quatre reached forward and took one of Trowa’s hands. He held it up between them so that their fingers were twined together and were snuggly joined together, palm to palm.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was being so inconsiderate...have I been taking you for granted?” He asked softly, staring at their clasped hands.
“Sometimes,” Trowa replied steadily. All the frustration had flooded out of him, replaced with the intense need to get through this conversation. They had been putting it off for far too long. “To your credit, I strive to be taken for granted. It’s part of the way I think. Don’t blame yourself for that, if you do, we’ll be taking three steps backward.”
“What? But being taken for granted is a horrible thing!” Quatre squeezed Trowa’s hand, hard. “I can’t believe--wait, yes I can--Well...”
Suddenly, Quatre gasped, replaying the conversation in his mind. “Wait a minute...when you said your problem...was...you want...” He swallowed and turned his shocked eyes towards Trowa. “You want forever? Does that mean...you want to...”
Trowa nodded, just once. He clenched his jaw and waited. This was it.
“Trowa, that’s been the main source of my stress for months and months, maybe even years! It’s been wearing on me because I didn’t know how we could work it out, but I wanted to try. But I wasn’t sure how to go about it, or even if you’d want to. I know that’s a horrible excuse, and I know we have other things that we have to figure out between us, but I think we’ve got something really important here,” Quatre gripped Trowa’s hand even harder, so hard that it almost hurt.
For his part, Trowa struggled not to let his hope get out of control. He was sure he knew what Quatre was getting at, but...he needed it to be said.
Quatre continued, “Because that’s what I want, too. I want forever.”
It was a good thing Trowa was already sitting down. The relief was that intense. “Oh.”
They stared at each other for a long, speechless moment.
“So,” Quatre said, ducking his head almost shyly, despite the wide smile on his face. “To make this perfectly clear...Trowa, I want us to be permanent. With words, a ceremony, and a piece of paper. Everything. Is that what you meant as well, or was I completely and utterly wrong?” He winced slightly. He held his breath and waited for Trowa’s response.
“That about covers it. Just give me the honor of asking formally?” Trowa felt a ridiculously large smile break out on his face. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Yes, they did have some things to work out between them, but many of their problems were caused by their concern, their love. They were strong. They could handle anything.
“Wait, wait! I want to ask you as well,” Quatre replied, moving up from his sitting position until he was on one bended knee.
Trowa mimicked his posture and took Quatre’s other hand in his own, lacing those fingers together as well. “Why not?”
For a moment they looked at each other. They both wore giddy, intensely happy smiles. They’d been a step away from this for so long. And, unlike most people in this position, they knew that they were not going to be rejected. There was no fear.
“Quatre Winner--" Trowa started.
“Trowa Barton--” Quatre chimed in, laughing quietly.
The next part they said together.
“--Will you marry me?”
They kissed, making the mutual gesture their answer to each other. Pulling and deep and full of complexity, it was both passionate and pure. When they finally broke apart, they feeling warm both inside and out. Together, the pair rose to their feet, moving like two halves of the same whole.
“Our room?” Trowa asked.
Quatre felt his smile widen even further at that. Their room. Not just his room with some of Trowa’s things in it, but theirs. Theirs. “Definitely.”
They didn’t make it to lunch.
~ ~ ~ ~
In the kitchen, Mrs. Jessam frowned deliberately at the pile of mail.
That young man had been so careless with it. She sniffed and adjusted the thick bun of gray hair gathered at the nape of her neck. Despite the household’s obvious need for the expanded temporary staff, she disliked having to show them everything that needed to be done and how to do it.
So few of them had any common sense; it bordered on absurd. Mrs. Jessam supposed that she was lucky she had been able to handpick the house’s permanent staff. The few temporary staff members that had any intelligence had been recommended hires.
Now, what to do with this mail?
“Mrs. Jessam?”
The woman looked up. “Yes, Jenny?”
“Tara and I just finished my rounds in the guest rooms with the linens. I was wondering if you wanted me to do anything else or if I could go on break?” The teenager asked politely.
“Ah, I suppose you had to show Tara how to tuck the sheets properly, didn’t you?” Mrs. Jessam asked, her voice slightly clipped. Tara was one of the temporary staff.
“Yes, ma’am, but she’s getting better, at least, better than the other temps. ‘Course, that wouldn’t be hard,” Jenny grinned shyly.
“Hmph. Well, we can’t all be professionals,” the older woman smiled. “I know you work long hours, dear, especially after taking a few days off. You certainly deserve your break now, but could you possibly wait a little while longer? I need someone to watch Mr. Winner’s mail and give it to him after lunch. If you do, you can take your own lunch afterwards, and have an extra half hour.”
Jenny nodded. “Well, you know that those long hours are out of necessity. Need the money and all that. School is expensive. Uh, I take it you don’t want to just leave the mail sitting unattended, like the temps have been doing?”
The woman nodded, frowning. “Correct. I may have to call another staff meeting and give them a good talking to if they don’t start getting in line.”
“Oh, please don’t make the rest of us come if you do. That wouldn’t be fair,” the maid protested.
“Life is rarely fair,” Mrs. Jessam chuckled.
“No, I don’t suppose it is,” the girl sighed. She twisted her hands together in a sudden burst of nervousness. “I suppose you know that I’ve been hanging out with a couple of the guests when I haven’t been on duty? I’ve been meaning to ask you if that was okay. I don’t know what the employment policy says about it. I asked my sister what she thought, and she told me to come to you.”
“Your sister is very astute. Samantha is one of the only temps worth her salt,” Mrs. Jessam admitted before continuing. “I was actually just about to speak with you about that very thing. I have only one question: Is this social involvement interfering with your duties?”
“No, ma’am,” Jenny replied, shaking her head.
“Then there’s no problem. As long as you work when you’re on the clock, you’re not violating any policies. Does Mr. Winner seem like the type to fire an employee for being friendly?”
Jenny just shook her head again, a look a clear relief on her face.
“Well, dear, does that answer your question sufficiently?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good, good. Now, I’ve got to go speak with the head groundskeeper. Thank you, Jenny,” Mrs. Jessam patted the girl on the shoulder as she walked past.
Jenny leaned against the counter beside the mail and sighed. She really hoped that Mr. Winner wouldn’t be too long. She was hungry.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Well, I wonder what happened to Quatre and Trowa ‘being along in a minute?’” Dorothy asked, one eyebrow lifted in amusement. She gestured to the rest of the table. “We’ve all finished eating.”
“Uh, I’d leave it alone if I were you, Dorothy,” Duo replied, chuckling. “For various reasons.”
“Oh, believe me, I wouldn’t dare go looking for those two. I just intend to ask them about their absence later,” her eyes twinkled in sarcastic amusement. “I think we all know the only thing that could cause Quatre to stop trying to be the perfect host for well over an hour.”
Wufei cleared his throat and jerked his head in Mariemeia’s direction. “Stop it, Dorothy.”
Mariemeia giggled, her face tinting pink. “Wufei, I’m not stupid. I already knew what they were talking about.”
Wufei did his best not to sputter. He frowned.
Seeing this, the girl grinned widely. “Well, I’m done eating. I think I’ll go find Hakim.”
That said, she pushed her plate away from her, stood up, and breezed out of the room.
A few minutes later they decided that waiting any longer for Quatre and Trowa was probably futile, so they too left the dining room in favor of heading to one of the big, comfortable rec rooms. On the way, Duo pulled Heero to the back of the group.
“Heero, I’m going to try and talk to Hilde,” Duo whispered, leaning close as they walked. “She’s been acting weird.”
“What, the cheese thing?” Heero whispered back.
“Oh, you noticed too? Well...yeah, the cheese thing. And she’s just acting weird. She’s been awfully back and forth in her moods,” Duo replied.
“Then you should talk to her, Duo,” Heero slipped an arm around the American’s waist. “If nothing else, it’ll make you feel like you’ve tried.”
“Yeah, but I already feel like a bad friend. I was thinking about it this morning, and I haven’t really spoken to her or emailed her or anything for months,” Duo sighed.
“You’re not a bad friend,” Heero said firmly. “Besides, it takes two people to speak to one another. Has she gone out of her way to contact you?”
“No,” Duo shook his head and eased his arm up and over Heero’s encircling one and squeezed the Japanese man’s shoulders. They slowed their pace a little more, letting the others slip farther ahead.
“Then don’t worry about it. It doesn’t mean you’re less her friend or vice versa. It just means you both happened to be busy at the same time,” Heero shrugged, sliding closer underneath Duo’s arm. He tightened his grip on the longhaired man’s waist.
“It’s just awful, balancing this paranoia with my own screwed up guilt,” Duo muttered. He felt Heero’s shoulders tense, then slowly relax.
“Then don’t. Just try to let it go. You have no reason to feel guilty for being out of touch for a few months. It happens,” the shorthaired man said sensibly.
“I suppose,” Duo nodded. “Gah, I just want to take a nap.”
Heero stopped walking. “Really? Just a nap?”
Duo grinned and ran his free hand up Heero’s chest, around his neck, and tousled the Japanese man’s messy hair. “Well, not right now. Later, though. Definitely,” he licked his lips.
Heero smirked. “Good.”
They started walking again, catching up to the others.
~ ~ ~ ~
“I can’t believe we missed lunch! What will everyone else say?” Quatre wondered, rubbing his stomach with his one hand. The other one was linked with Trowa’s as they walked down the corridor.
Trowa shrugged. “Do you care?”
“Actually...no,” the blond replied, “I’m just hungry.”
“We certainly did work up an appetite,” Trowa deadpanned.
Quatre stopped and covered his mouth to muffle his laughter. “Trowa!”
The taller man let a minute grin appear on his face. “Yes?”
Quatre rolled his eyes. They started walking again. “So...do you want to tell everyone our decision as soon as we see them, or what?”
“I’m sure the opportunity will present itself at some point,” Trowa replied, “Preferably sooner rather than later. Either someone will ask us why we didn’t make it to lunch, or someone will ask why you’re suddenly bouncing around like Duo after three cups of cappuccino. Or they’ll ask why I’m wearing a ridiculously silly smile.”
“Your smile isn’t silly,” Quatre raised his eyebrows and looked over at his fiancé. “It’s just that your smile is so rarely unreserved that when you finally let it go and just grin, it cannot go unnoticed. It’s beautiful. You should do it more often.”
Trowa felt his face grow warm. “Now you’re embarrassing me.”
“It’s just the truth,” Quatre replied, very matter-of-factly. He pushed the door to the kitchen open.
Trowa sighed and allowed himself to be tugged into the room. “Sure.”
Quatre poked him lightly in the side. “It is the truth,” he paused and looked around. “Well. Let’s just snag some leftovers. I’m sure there are some here...er...somewhere.”
“Uh, sir?” A voice spoke up from the other side of the room.
The couple turned. “Yes, Jenny?” Quatre replied.
The young maid pointed at the pile of mail beside her on the kitchen counter. “I wasn’t supposed to give you your mail until after you ate, according to Mrs. Jessam, but I have a feeling that you won’t be able to find the food on your own. Everything’s been moved around because of the increased amount of supplies and stuff that was bought for the extra guests. I can find someone to fix you something that would be quick to make.”
Quatre nodded. “All right, thanks.”
“No problem, sir,” she returned, smiling and ducking her head as she walked past the pair. A moment later she was out of the door.
“Shall we look at it now?” Trowa asked, gesturing at the huge stack of mail. Fliers, shopping circulars, and large envelopes were piled haphazardly together.
Quatre felt his shoulders slump. “Well, we both know what we’re looking for. Might as well.”
By the time their lunch had been prepared, the two had thoroughly examined what appeared to be the latest bit of mail from Heero and Duo’s stalker. A large envelope addressed only to Heero sat innocently on the counter before them.
Local postmark, and of course, no return address. Black ink, all capital letters engraved their friend’s name into the paper, and Quatre’s own address stood below it ominously. It occurred to them that if the stalker was watching Heero and Duo, then she could possibly be watching the rest of them as well. It wasn’t the most pleasant thing to think about.
“I know this sounds bad, but I think we should eat before we take this to Heero,” Quatre said as he stared down at the envelope. He leaned closer to Trowa.
“I understand. We tend to lose our appetites after seeing what she has to say, don’t we?” Trowa nodded his head at the envelope.
“It’s selfish of us,” Quatre frowned.
“No it isn’t,” the taller man shook his head once. “Technically, if we had waited until after we had eaten to look at the mail like intended, then we wouldn’t even be having this discussion.”
Quatre forced himself to take a deep breath, to relax. “You’re right. Let’s eat quickly, though.”
“Of course.”
Ten minutes later, they were leaving the kitchen in search of the others.
~ ~ ~ ~
“You’re WHAT?!”
Duo’s voice carried loud and clear over the rec room. He and Hilde had been sitting off to the side while everyone else occupied themselves with playing table tennis or observing the current game.
Wufei caught the little ping-pong ball before it could hit him in the nose, the reflex automatic despite the distraction of Relena fiddling with his hair. She had taken out all but one of the little braids. Everyone stopped and turned to look at the pair at the other side of the room. The two carried on their conversation, perfectly oblivious to the attention.
Hilde had her arms folded carefully over her stomach. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” she said deliberately, her voice easily heard in the now-quiet room.
“Hilde! How the HELL could you go almost four months and not tell anyone! This is great!” Duo’s eyes were wide and looked like he wanted to hug the woman, but was slightly afraid to.
“Because last time...Well. I wanted to be sure,” Hilde’s voice was quiet, and one of her hands had founds its way to splay protectively over her stomach. “Besides, I’m single. It’s kind of controversial, you know?"
“Excuse us,” Dorothy cleared her throat quietly. “But we’re about to die of collective curiosity over here.”
Hilde looked up, startled. “Um...I’m...well...”
“Just say it!” Duo rolled his eyes. “You act like it’s a bad thing.”
“No I don’t! I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea!” She stuck her tongue out at him and made a horrible face.
“That’s mature,” the American snickered. “And you’re going to be somebody’s mother. Jeez.”
“Damnit! Duo!” Hilde cried, picking up a couch pillow and hitting him with it. “Shut up!”
Relena let out a high-pitched squeal, causing everyone else to wince. “Hilde, you’re pregnant?”
Hilde stopped pelting Duo with the pillow. “Um, Yes?”
Dorothy glided across the room. “And why would anyone get the wrong idea about that?” She asked smoothly, sitting down. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“I don’t want to get married, but I want a kid. So I got a, uh, donor,” Hilde replied. “I went through all these papers and got to pick. This is the second time I’ve tried to do this.”
Relena plopped down beside Dorothy, her face suddenly serious. “You lost your first?”
Hilde just nodded. She elbowed Duo in the ribs. “Which is why I wasn’t going to tell anyone until later. It was nothing against anyone.”
“Who said it was?” Duo rubbed his side. “Ouch, by the way. Did you gain extra muscles with that kid, or what?”
Wufei sat down at the end of the couch beside Relena, and Heero had eased himself down beside Duo. “Congratulations,” the Japanese man said quietly, a small smile on his face.
“Thanks! I’ve been trying to keep it quiet, but it’s been hard,” Hilde’s grin was huge, and she looked down for a moment. “It’s not like I would have been able to hide it for much longer, anyway, but still.”
“And you went to, ah...rock concerts like this?” Duo asked. “You were being careful, right?”
Hilde just looked at Duo as if he had gone insane. “Well, yeah, I went to concerts. I want the kid to have good taste in music. I didn’t get in any of the rough areas, and I was really careful about where I sat. Can’t have any kind of weird smoke influencing her growth. Of course I was careful...and it was only for a couple weeks, anyway.”
“Just checking,” the American nodded, holding up his hands. “You said ‘her’?”
The woman shrugged. “It’s better than saying ‘it’ until I know for certain. But I do have a feeling that she’s a girl.”
“Wow, wait,” Relena blinked, cocking her head to the side. “Is this why you were eating that horrible cheese in a can this morning? Do you really have those weird food cravings?”
Hilde laughed. “Eh, yeah. It looks gross, I know. I crave cheese, but I have to remind myself to eat balanced things the rest of the time.”
“Oooooohh...I have so many questions I want to ask!” Relena replied, her voice excited. She clasped her hands together in front of her.
“Well, um, fire away...but not right now, okay? Talking about food made me hungry,” Hilde stood up. “Besides, all this attention is making me nervous.”
“Hungry? We just finished lunch,” Wufei observed.
“That’s right, but I can’t help it,” the woman grinned nervously, then swept out of the room.
A few seconds later, Trowa and Quatre entered. The blond man was almost walking backwards as he spoke to Hilde, who by this time was well out the door and out of sight. “In a hurry?”
Those still sitting heard Hilde’s reply fade as she walked away. “Yup, gotta eat. Ask the others about it...”
Quatre glanced up at Trowa. The tall man just shrugged. Quatre raised one eyebrow at him in response to this and shrugged back. Together, they continued into the room and sat down. Quatre tapped the large white envelope he carried against his leg and leaned into Trowa’s side slightly.
“Well?” Quatre asked after a moment.
“Hilde is,” Dorothy paused for dramatic effect and grinned, “With child.”
“Wow, okay then,” Quatre replied, a slightly stunned look on his face.
Trowa shifted slightly. “Planned?”
“Yup,” Duo nodded absently. His gaze was focused on the envelope in Quatre’s hands. “Uh, Q? Is that...?”
Quatre followed Duo’s eyes and looked down at the envelope. Instantly his face grew serious. “Yeah, it came in the mail. Trowa and I looked through it while we were getting lunch.”
Dorothy decided not to tease the two about their absence from the table. “Well, get on with it. No sense in dragging this macabre ordeal out.”
Trowa nodded and took the envelope from Quatre’s hand and passed it to Heero.
Duo leaned close and peered at the plain white envelope, his eyes purposefully scanning back and forth. “It’s only addressed to you, again,” his voice was barely above a whisper.
Heero held the envelope up to the light. “It appears to contain more than one item.”
“More than one item? As in papers, or as in objects?” Relena asked, leaning forward. Her eyebrows knit together in worry as one of her hands sought and clasped the fabric of Wufei’s shirt. For his part, the Chinese man took the hand and grasped it in one of his. The other hand tugged at the one remaining little braid.
“Paper, I think,” Heero muttered. He took out the knife he had taken to carrying and slid it under the flap of the envelope. A flick of the wrist and he had it safely open. Carefully he examined the mouth and the insides of the pocket. “There’s a picture and a piece of folded paper.”
Heero forced his face into a blank and took comfort from the warmth of Duo pressing closer to his side. After a deep breath, the Japanese man dumped the contents of the envelope onto his lap.
Sure enough, a polaroid picture fell face down next to the tri-folded sheet of paper. In one swift movement, Heero flipped the polaroid onto its back, exposing the picture itself.
A tombstone.
Thick and gray against a sunny sky, the grave and stone were unadorned, except for a single red carnation sitting atop the marble tombstone. The grass was a vibrant green, and in the background other grave markers could be seen, as well as a few splashes of color made by distant flowered decorations.
“What the hell?” Duo asked, as Heero picked up the picture brought it closer to his face.
“I--I'm not sure,” Heero replied quietly, focusing on the image. He squinted, trying to read the names and dates carved into the stone.
“What is it?” Wufei broke in, his eyes darting back and forth between the couple’s faces.
Heero cleared his throat, fighting the confusion and sudden dread that had seized him to the core. “It’s a tombstone, engraved with two people’s names, Caleb W. Anderson and Ashuri Anderson, presumably husband and wife judging from the inscriptions on the stone itself. The date of death is shared, February 21, AC 183. There’s not enough background to give away the cemetery location.”
“Do you recognize either name?” Quatre asked, his eyes widening as a chord of horror echoed in his voice.
Heero shook his head and handed the picture to Duo. He then used the flat of his pocketknife to tilt the creased piece of paper up so that he could see between the folds. Like the last letter, it appeared to be just a bit of writing. Satisfied, he slowly unfolded the paper, keeping his gaze fixed on the carpet a few feet away from him.
Another deep breath, and Heero surveyed the note. No punctuation, but the three lines were separated by enough space so that the phrases did not run together. Black ink, as always, and all capital letters. Heavy pressure on the pen that almost tore a hole in the paper.
THEY WERE ALREADY DEAD
HOWEVER
YOUR GRANDPARENTS WERE NOT
Heero dropped the paper on his lap and seized the polaroid from Duo’s hand. The last note had said, “FOUND YOUR PARENTS.” Who else could be this note’s “THEY”?
Duo’s arms had circled Heero’s waist and pulled the Japanese man close. He had read the letter as Heero had.
“I’m going to find this sick bitch and kill her for you, my love. I will. She’s going to suffer for this,” Duo’s voice was pure malice as he hugged Heero more firmly.
“What is it?!” Wufei demanded, his eyes blazing as he stood up and leaned forward so that he could see the note sitting on Heero’s lap. A bare second later he growled. “If you want some help, Maxwell, feel free to ask. The very idea that someone would stoop to such a level! Even the implication!”
By this time, Heero had clenched his fists into tight knots. He didn’t know what to say, or to do, or even to feel. How could he trust the stalker’s implications? On the other side of the same thought, how could he not? The intensity and sickness of their stalker was alarming.
Heero considered how the stalker’s manipulations had successfully guided him into her way of thinking; it was disturbing to think she had the power to influence his thoughts with nothing but a few pictures and words.
Why would someone do this? What the hell was the point? And why choose this course of action when so many others lay open? Obviously the stalker knew how to get to both him and Duo, so why do this and possibly involve innocents? It made no sense.
Heero let a small gasp of air escape his lungs and handed the letter and polaroid to Wufei. A moment later, and Quatre had the letter. He shook his head. “That’s what I gathered, from what you said. Or something to that effect.”
Relena and Dorothy looked at each other in utter confusion. Dorothy cleared her throat. “May I?”
After receiving a nod from Heero, Quatre passed the letter to her.
The woman looked down at the letter critically, then snatched the picture from Wufei’s grasp. She looked back and forth between the two items a few times, while Relena looked over her shoulder.
“Grandparents...” Dorothy mused quietly, then looked up. “What exactly did yesterday’s letter say?”
“It said, ‘Found your parents,’” Heero replied dully, feeling Duo’s embrace tighten fiercely. It was good to have a solid anchor.
“Oh my God!” Relena’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hands.
“Are you sure you want to jump to this conclusion? There is no proof that this is your parents’ grave,” Dorothy said sharply. “How old were you in February of 183? Would you remember some sort of accident at that age? This could be a completely random tombstone with convenient dating.”
“I think I must have been either two or three, depending on when in 180 I was born. I’m not sure what my actual birthday is, exactly. Or even if I was born in 180,” Heero’s voice began to regain some sort of inflection, but his face stayed perfectly blank. His hands, however, stayed in tight fights.
“You mean you don’t know?” Dorothy’s voice was edged with pure shock.
“No,” he clipped out.
“That’s not too unusual,” Duo broke in. “I picked a date to be my birthday. We did it for Heero as well.”
“Not too unusual for the likes of us, you mean,” Trowa added quietly.
“That’s...I hadn’t realized,” Dorothy took a calming breath and regained her full composure. She turned back to Heero. “Look, just don’t believe that The Idiot is telling the truth.”
“I don’t. But it cannot be proven to be a lie, either,” Heero replied. He felt utterly hollow. What to believe, what to ignore? It was impossible to tell. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the truth, and yet, he desperately needed to know. Would he ever find out? Knowing the stalker, he felt sure that the knowledge would come eventually, and at a heavy emotional price.
“Grandparents,” Relena muttered, squinting at the photograph. “I wonder which side?”
“Why would that matter?” Wufei asked.
She shrugged, her shoulders moving up and down heavily. “I don’t know. Just thinking about last names.”
For a long moment, no one said anything.
“As in, which side the ‘grandparents’ are from?” Quatre clarified.
Relena nodded reluctantly.
Heero forced his fists open and stared down at the ivory and red tint that marred his hands. He had been clenching his fingers into fists so hard that his knuckles had paled under the pressure. Tiny half moons were imbedded in the skin of his palms, made by his fingernails. He was slightly surprised that the marks weren’t bleeding.
Duo unwound one arm from around Heero and gestured toward the polaroid and letter that Dorothy still studied. She handed them over quickly.
He glared at the objects. “This is part of the big lead up. It has to be. Maybe she’s just jerking us around, trying to get us off balance. So far, there’s been nothing but circumstance and our own preconceived notions leading us to these conclusions. We need to be careful, because this isn’t over yet. But then again...” Duo nearly spat in frustration.
No had anything to say to that.
“Excuse me,” Heero muttered, tugging out of the circle of Duo’s arms and standing up. As he moved, he grabbed one of the American’s hands in his own and pulled him up to his feet as well. “I’m sure you all understand.”
Various nods were his only answer as Heero walked out the room. Duo allowed himself to be pulled along, only turning back to catch Quatre mouthing the words “Good luck” as they started out into the corridor. Duo only had time to nod once in reply before he was out of the room completely.
Heero walked quickly, his eyes focused straight ahead of him. His feet made soft punching sounds against the thick carpet. Duo sped his pace up until he was next to his lover, his own footsteps habitually inaudible. Between them, their hands were clasped, gripping tightly onto each other.
Opening the door to their shared bedroom, Heero entered first and closed the door firmly after Duo had followed him in. Then he turned, looked Duo straight in the eye, and cleared his throat. “I think we should leave. Or at least, I should leave. You may be safer here. The stalker might follow me.”
Duo had to forcibly kept his jaw from dropping. He let the picture, letter, and envelope he had been carrying fall to the floor and caught Heero’s free hand in his own. He firmly squeezed both of Heero’s hands. “Hell no. You’re not going anywhere. Since when did Heero Yuy run from something?”
“Since his presence could possibly threaten the lives of people he cares for and loves,” Heero responded fiercely. “It’s not running; it’s strategy.”
“Just because the stalker has targeted you specifically these last two days doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have anything in store for me. Think about it, this could be a ploy to get you to leave the safe haven of Quatre’s security. If all she can do is send letters vaguely implying things that may or may not have already happened, then maybe you’re safe here!” Duo returned, his eyebrows knitting together as he spoke.
Heero started to say something, then stopped. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, almost hard enough to make it bleed. “But what if you’re wrong?”
“What if I am? If the stalker bitch really wanted to do something to you, then she’ll just wait until she has the chance. And look at it this way,” Duo paused, the corners of his mouth pinching slightly, “If she wanted to use someone you care about, that is, hurt someone, then would it matter where the hell you happened to be at the time?
“You have to admit that using other people to get to you has been quite effective so far. We don’t even know whether or not the bitch actually found your parents, grandparents, or whoever. It could be a bluff! Yes, it’s horrible. Yes, it’s vile and low and disgusting. But what if this is all part of the manipulation? Trying to force you to look at who you care about now and how you can protect them. Forcing you out. Out where she can get to you,” Duo stopped abruptly. He squeezed Heero’s hands and pulled them protectively up to his chest.
“Duo...” Heero sighed. “You’re making perfect sense. In a purely logical aspect, I agree with you, but I can’t help feeling that my being here is dangerous. Besides, what if you’re wrong?”
“That’s the second time you’ve asked me that, Heero,” the American replied softly. “What if I’m right? I understand your intentions, I really do, but step back from the situation and think about this objectively.”
“All right, I’ll try.”
“Okay. First of all, where would you go? Secondly, do you really think anyone else would let you leave? I know the other guys would get absolutely pissed and probably decide to track you down to bring you back. Finally, what would happen when the bitch eventually caught up with you? If you think she’s devious enough to really break security here, then you must think that she’d somehow find you. How far would you go? And for what amount of time? How long?” Duo cocked his head to the side, his expression utterly serious and more than a little worried by the time he finished speaking.
“I don’t think I could go for very long without you, Duo, if that’s what you’re trying to ask,” Heero swallowed. “As for the rest of it...I hate it. It feels wrong to stay and possibly put people in danger...but you’re right. Even if it isn’t a ploy to get me out into the open, the possible repercussions would be unpleasant, to say the least. Besides, what if she twisted my absence to her advantage?”
“Guilt would eat you alive,” Duo answered. “So you’re staying?”
Heero nodded.
“Now, back to this being all about you. I recall you telling me, not so long ago even, that the stalker was after both of us,” Duo raised one eyebrow. “Besides, even if she was only intending to target you, she’s getting at me, too. What bothers you automatically gets to me, and vice versa. You know this. It’s because we love each other. If the stalker’s been paying the least bit of attention, then she obviously would know it, too.”
“Hm,” Heero clenched his jaw, the corners of his lips wavering upwards in an almost-smile. “Double-edged sword, isn’t it?”
Duo just smiled, his lips sealed together. It was a melancholy expression. “What is? Love, or the stalker’s actions?”
Heero shrugged. “Both. The first one is definitely worth the trouble.”
“Yes. Yes it is.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Back in the rec room, Quatre had just finished relating to Hilde what had happened. The woman had returned not long after Heero and Duo had left, carrying a platter of foods that had been meticulously arranged into their respective food groups.
“Well,” Hilde started, looking around at the others’ faces. She glanced down at her now empty plate and ran a finger across its smooth surface, catching crumbs. “That’s just plain horrible. I can’t believe this person would go so far.”
“Nor can I!” Wufei grumbled. “It’s the height of cowardice to attack on such a level.”
“I suppose that it’s almost a good thing that the stalker can’t use the same tactics to get to Duo. Poor Heero, that must really feel horrible, not knowing what to believe,” The corners of Hilde’s mouth quirked downwards.
Dorothy raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?”
“Huh?” The other woman returned, a slightly confused expression marking her face.
“Why wouldn’t the stalker have used the same tactics to get to Duo?” Dorothy asked. “Forgive my ignorance, but it hasn’t exactly come up in conversation. I was under the impression that Duo did not know his familial origin, either. At least, that’s what I gathered from the previous little depressing digression about unknown birthdays.”
“Uh, well,” Hilde looked around at the rest of the room. “Didn’t you know? Any of you?”
“Know what?” Trowa asked patiently.
“That Duo already tried looking for his family and all that. He couldn’t remember enough from his really early childhood, though, to even make a serious start. He wasn’t even sure if he was born on L2 or anything, and it’s not as though his early life was conducive to leaving any sort of paper trail, so it kind of dead-ended. It was last year, I think, that he tried. Heero helped, but they couldn’t find anything at all.
“So, uh, that’s what I meant. Because his family is virtually untraceable, it’s kind of good. It’s ironic and twisted and all that, but it’s what I meant,” Hilde finished. She looked down and fiddled with the empty plate in her lap.
“Maybe that’s why Heero wanted to find his own family. Maybe that’s what started it?” Relena guessed. She sighed. “Wow, I’m never taking my own family, adopted or biological, for granted ever again. It must be horrible not to know...” Her voice tapered off in a whisper.
“Family can be a completely subjective term,” Wufei muttered. He eased his hand near Relena’s on the couch between them. A moment later, she grasped it firmly.
“Well, this is horribly gloomy,” Dorothy stated, her voice spiking with morbid humor.
Before anyone else could say anything, the phone rang. Quatre sighed, heaved himself up from the couch, and made his way over to the phone unit that was tucked in the corner of the room.
“Hello, Winner residence,” He clipped in a professional manner. The incoming call had no video signal, so he picked up the telephone audio component and spoke directly into it. He kept his back to the rest of the room.
“Hello, this is Sylvia Noventa calling for Mr. Winner. May I please speak with him?” A feminine voice asked politely.
“Speaking. Hi, Sylvia,” Quatre returned, his voice losing the businesslike fakeness it had taken on when he had first spoken.
“Oh, okay. Hi, then. You sound different on the phone,” Sylvia replied, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I was just calling to confirm that Gregory, Ophelia, and I were going to be there tonight. I’m guessing around eight, if our flight arrives on time.”
“All right. Thanks. Oh, when you get here, the gate will be locked. Just use the intercom and someone will come and let you in,” Quatre said. “About eight...are you going to eat before you come, or what?”
“Oh, let me ask Greg,” She replied. Quatre heard the muffled sound of a something covering the mouthpiece of the phone, then Sylvia came back on the line. “We’ll grab something in the terminal or on the way there, don’t worry about it. I imagine you eat earlier than eight.”
“Yeah, we do. Is Greg your fiancé?” Quatre asked, remembering the woman’s emailed request.
“Uh-huh. Ophelia’s his little sister. Sorry about that, by the way. Having to bring her along was unexpected, and it’s really decent of you to let her come. Her normal caretaker was unavailable, and we couldn’t get a suitable replacement in enough time.”
“Caretaker?”
“Nice way of saying babysitter. She was watching me speak and hates the term. She thinks it implies that she’s a baby,” Sylvia laughed. “Ophelia lost her hearing in an accident when she was eight. She just turned fifteen, by the way, and thinks she’s old enough to be home alone for days at a time. She’s almost right, but, well, we’d rather not leave her behind for so long. Anyway, Ophelia reads lips really well as long as people speak normally and are facing her. So if you could tell everybody that before we get here, I’d appreciate it. It would save us all a lot of trouble.”
“Sure, no problem. Anything else special that we should know about?” Quatre switched the phone to his other ear.
Sylvia’s reply was quick. “No, that’s about it.”
“Well, thanks for calling and letting us know everything. What time you’d arrive and about Ophelia, and all that,” He said.
“No, thank you for being so nice about this. We really appreciate it. You’re going out of your way for so many people, and having to put up with these unexpected things just goes above and beyond and all that,” she paused as a beeping sound came across the line. “Oops, I guess that’s my cue. I think my portable phone’s battery is running out of juice. It just beeped at me. See you later, then.”
“Okay. Bye,” Quatre replied. A second later, a line went dead. He shrugged and hung up the audio component of his own phone.
Quatre returned to his place on the couch and filled the others in on his conversation with Sylvia. That effectively changed the subject from the unpleasantness of the stalker and directed it onto other things. Eventually, they broke into smaller groups. Hours passed, and Heero and Duo emerged from their room. The rest of the afternoon passed between shifts of melancholy and forced forgetfulness.
News passed through the small pseudo-community of the mansion, and before dinnertime, the whole household was updated on the current situation, both with the stalker and with the impending arrival of more guests.
Trowa and Quatre didn’t inform anyone of the decision they had made that morning. It just didn’t seem to be the right time yet, and they didn’t want to force the issue. However, they did plan to go into town the next morning, with the purpose of ring shopping.
That evening, at around eight thirty, the intercom buzzed. A few minutes later, Sylvia, a tall man with dark honey-colored hair, and a teenage girl with long platinum blonde hair were shown in. After a brief introduction, they retired to their rooms, claiming jet lag.
More time passed, another period of forced distraction balanced between pointless conversation and an attempt to watch a movie.
After what seemed like a short eternity, everyone gave up and retreated to their bedrooms.
The household slept.
Of course, some rested more easily than others.
~ ~ ~ ~