Hey-o, and welcome to my Lil’ World of Weirdness!

I state for the record that I don’t own Gundam Wing, or the wonderful characters that will be gracing this story . . . I do however own the extras, including Mister Unterward and his legal department. Not that anyone else wants them, but just in case. Ahem, I also don’t own any of the lyrics; they will be coming from things like Noir, Cowboy Bebop and Lain. All I own is the title and maybe the lyrics to a made up song I might put in this, watch this space for changes in the disclaimer! Other important stuff includes the mandatory warning about possible yaoi-related stuff I AM going to write. After a recent flame that I don’t warn people enough . . . even though the fic was about coming to terms about having the attractions of another man, and how the main character dealt with his homophobia . . . mutters on about her plot twists and her suspense anyway, in the hopes most of you will have stopped reading now, hence my rambling, but to ensure I am covered in case someone wants to flame me again about their homophobia, here is the warning. There will be yaoi. Go flame someone else. Or, as per usual, try it, who knows? You might like it!

Okay, that’s the legal stuff out the way!

((Thinking))

“Speaking”

Stress/Emphasis

:Lyrics: Ayumi Hamasaki - Evolution

Part Three: Reality’s Traitor

:Reality is a traitor; it's easy:
:to misjudge things.:

(scene change)

The rotten poster was peeling, the graffiti obscene. Broken trailers were upturned and ruined; some animal cages reeked and were overgrown with weeds. The colours had long since faded and a cold wind howled around the deserted frames. The circus had long been forgotten. Anything of value removed and sold, things that once been so beautiful were destroyed recklessly.

Hold his daughter’s hand securely, Wufei turned tight lipped to Quatre. The other stood there in silent horror, his mouth having fallen open with the shock.

“There’s nothing here . . .” An L3 official mumbled apologetically, “This circus fell foul of the depression some years back . . .” He shuffled slightly unsure what to make to the reaction. The fact two of the colonies’ richest men had been searching for this particular circus had not escaped the media and the public. Many had begun to come forward claiming to be former member of the circus, hoping to cash in on whatever the two men were looking for. The media hurled questions at them, asking if it had anything to do with the fact the third Gundam pilot was one prominent member of this forgotten circus.

Quatre stared numbly at Trowa’s once most beloved circus . . . and it pained him to know that once, a very long time ago all Trowa would have needed to do is breath a word of the trouble and Quatre would have done anything in his power to help, to save Trowa’s most precious circus. It hurt him worse to realise that he didn’t even know which depression the circus had crumbled under. Since the war, L3 had become the poorest colony. It had not benefited from powerful figures such as Winner enterprises, nor the Basilica effect . . . it had no great war hero return to rebuild it like Wufei had done, nor a close link to earth, like L1 had had with Heero and Relena . . . Trowa was not that kind of person, he did not seek wealth, was not particularly loyal to L3, it was somewhere he had existed once but not his home.

So after the war, L3’s Gundam Pilot disappeared just like he had done in the war. For a time circuses made money, selling the fact that theirs might be the one with the hidden pilot. However this deception wasn’t enough to ward the wave after wave of depression L3’s economy had gone through. It didn’t help that L4’s most influential business refused to settle there, and soon everyone turned their backs on this backward colony.

Quatre let his eyes slide shut.

The noise around them was almost unbearable and yet . . . there was something he felt, he couldn’t put his finger on it but there was something there.

Wufei turned to him with searching eyes; he didn’t even have the first clue how to find Trowa. Trowa was the best at hiding in plain sight. His ability to disappear succeeded only by Duo. Quatre would be the only one who’d know, the only one who would really be able to find him.

“What now?” Wufei asked the blonde haired man quietly, seeing the fair eyelids twitch slightly as the other thought. “How do we find him . . .?”

Quatre thought for a moment longer, trying to remember something that would help them. Something that would lead them straight to Trowa, no matter how hard the tall pilot had hidden himself. Finally his eyes slide open and a fresh determination flowed into his eyes, warming them with the challenge. “Alright Trowa . . . have it your way. . .”

He turned and spun on a heel, walking back to the black car where Mister Unterward and Rashid sat waiting. “Quatre!” Wufei called after him, bending over to pick up his daughter, striding back to the car quickly. The blonde paused briefly and looked around. The vultures of the media were surrounding them and he shook his head, he couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk allowing the media to search for Trowa before he had a chance to. He motioned Wufei into the car and said a stiff but polite goodbye to the official who’d help them and got into the car. He instructed Rashid to drive off before he finally replied to Wufei.

Wufei couldn’t help but feel a spark of the old times; the old hot Gundam blood rush through him as Quatre leant forward with a predatory look in his eye.

“We find his damned lions first!”

(scene change)

It was quite by accident, actually . . .

Noin and Zechs were looking for the lions around the zoos of L3, when they stopped at a café and found Catherine Bloom waiting upon them. The lions they searched for were in the zoo opposite the café. Catherine had not lost any of her acrobatic skill and her excellent memory for routines, so she was an excellent waitress. She had also not lost a drop of her potent protectiveness.

The slap rung around the café, the forks of many patrons of the small downtown café dropping to their plates in shock, the manger’s face paling and soon he looked incredibly faint.

His best waitress had slapped the most powerful, richest man from L4.

Moments passed, the café dreadfully silent but for the sound of Catherine’s angry breath, the muttered prayers of the café’s manager and the muted sounds of the television in the corner.

Quatre slowly reached up and pressed his cool pale hand against his stinging cheek, he stared downwards for a moment, trying to quell the cold rage welling up in response. He had done Trowa some wrong, but that was between Trowa and he. He closed his eyes and swallowed.

“I suppose I deserved that.” He said quietly, swallowing again. “Are you satisfied now?”

Catherine clenched her hands, “Not by a thousand miles!” She spat at him, “How dare you. . . you waltzing in here, all rich and powerful . . . looking for Trowa! Where were you!” Her voice grew steadily as her anger grew fiercer. “We lost everything! You said that Gundam were . . . oh, Gundam never abandons Gundam! HA! You make me sick! You bastard! We lost everything!” She threw her apron at him and spat at him again. “You think you are the best of the best, the cream of the crop! My poor Trowa! Why do you want to reopen these old wounds!”

“Miss Bloom.” Mister Unterward cut in smoothly, his old voice breaking the tension between them. “Mister Winner and Mister Chang are here on a matter of utmost importance . . .”

“Take your missions, take your crusades and leave now! You need to save the world again!” Catherine laughed bitterly, “How about saving a few homes first? How about saving this colony first! What has peace done for us?” She motioned around, “This isn’t L4, it’s not L1 . . . we’ve been blamed for Mariemaia, blamed for Operation Meteor . . . every colony but us has come out of the wars as saints! Universal Peace! Where?” She spun away from them, shaking her head violently; “I will be dead before—“

Quatre’s arm shot out, lightning quick and dragged her back. “This is not about the world, this is not about colonies. This has nothing to do with a crusade. You’ve got a problem, so have I.” She went to pull her arm from his grasp but he only tightened his grip. “You want to rant about how unfair life is? Go ahead, rant away . . . but I haven’t got time now to stand here and listen to you.” He shook her wrist. “Where the fuck is Trowa!”

Catherine stared at Quatre’s cold eyes and blinked with shock. She glanced at the others gathered; Noin and Zechs looked at Quatre with hurt and disappointed expression. Wufei held his daughter’s hand tighter and clenched his jaw together. “Winner . . .”

Quatre drew a deep breath. Tried to calm himself. Put who he had become away. He breathed for a few moments longer and looked up at Catherine again. She took a step away from him as he released his tight grip on her arm, and began to rub her wrist. “Who are you?” She whispered quietly, “I don’t know you . . . the Quatre I knew. . .”

“The Quatre you knew . . .” he paused and looked down, “…is not who I am any more. Catherine, where is Trowa . . .?”

“He doesn’t want to see you.” Catherine let go of her wrist, “he never wants to see any of you again. . .”

Sally began to shake her head, “This is so stupid! This is . . .” she clenched her jaw, “Catherine! You have to understand! We need to find Trowa now, we haven’t got time any more. . .”

“You had nine years. . .” Catherine stared at Quatre, “All you needed to do was find him. . .”

“I’m trying now.” Quatre stared back at her, his cold eyes narrowing. “Why won’t you help me?”

“Because it might already be too late.”

“I told him if he wanted to meet you, he would meet us here . . .”

She turned from them, now it was just her, Wufei, Quatre and the lawyer. The lions growled in their cages, looking miserable. She didn’t blame them, the cages were too small, the food too poor. But it was all she and Trowa could afford. Since the circus had been disbanded, there was nothing else they could do. The lions were going to be put down, but Trowa couldn’t bear to be parted from them, not while they still had so much life left in them. She didn’t know how he could bare to look at them while they were so miserable, she’d rather die than spend the rest of her life in such a place.

He was supposed to meet them at nine-thirty, just after his shift finished. She was hoping he wouldn’t show up, the garage where he worked all day was just down the street from her café and this zoo. Their small apartments on the way back from the zoo so he could come in every day and visit them. She hoped he would be really tired, so he’d think this stupid new mission of the Gundams wasn’t worth it and go straight home.

(scene change)

It came to ten.

Ten-thirty.

Eleven.

Eleven-thirty.

“He’s not coming.” Catherine finally announced, looking up as Quatre turned and paced back toward them. She didn’t like this new version of Quatre. She’d heard about the businessman, but didn’t realise that it had really affected him completely. Quatre was just as cold and mean, spiteful as she’d heard. It made Catherine . . . it made her fairly ill to see this once kind boy turned into this cold-hearted bastard. There were moments as they waited when Quatre displayed something familiar, but that was only confined to Wufei. Even when Rashid came to collect them, the bodyguard was given a cool glance and even cooler brush off. Quatre was determined to wait there, all night if nessceary. An hour later, Rashid and Zechs came again, bringing torches and lanterns and once again was told to go away. Rashid paused and wrapped a blanket around Quatre’s smaller frame while Zechs knelt by Catherine and Wufei. Catherine was getting cold now, she sat on the floor next to Wufei. She looked at the former White Fang leader, “He’s really not coming . . .” she said quietly as Quatre turned from them all, pacing away. “How much longer do you need to sit here and wait . . .?”

“We haven’t got a choice;” Wufei glanced up, his dark eyes following Quatre. “If we give up now, we’re going to lose something . . . something too precious for words.”

Zechs nodded as he reached into his bag, he withdrew a flash and a large mug. He poured boiling hot coffee into it and offered the mug to Catherine. She smiled slightly, “Thanks.”

It’s nothing. Zechs dug about in the rucksack and pulled out the flask’s lid, he poured the coffee out and handed it to “Wufei.” Zechs sighed, “I don’t know what has happened. Our future was so beautiful, yet the price…” he looked at Wufei, “What happened to you, may I ask, was it really worth it?”

Wufei watched Quatre for a long moment before he answered. “No. I don’t think it was.” Catherine frowned as the Chinese man continued. “This isn’t about Basilica anymore, I think Quatre knows that . . .” he glanced at her, the lantern’s cold blue light making him even paler. “If we give up now, then we’ll let Duo down . . . and everything we fought for in the wars will become meaningless . . .”

They looked up as Quatre came to a stop before them. He stared at Catherine for a long moment. “Where do you live?”

She blinked, “what?”

“Trowa. Where does he live?”

Catherine frowned, “he doesn’t want to see you.”

“Doesn’t want to see me, fine!” Quatre snapped, “but I am going to see him!”

Quatre ran.
(scene change)

“Past the penguins, there’s the southern exit.”

Catherine’s instructions ringing clear in his ears. His feel pelted the ground.

“Our place is the seventh building on the right, it’s got a blue post-box outside of it.”

He ran like he hadn’t in nine years. It felt good. He closed his eyes, the cold air was clean. It was cleaning him, cleaning his lungs, cleaning his hair as he ran. Years of sitting behind a desk rolled off him, and for a moment it was like he was sat in his Gundam once more. Here as he ran without torch, in the darkness, he could almost pretend he was on a mission. Running from OZ.

He ran full steam into a solid chest, his momentum carrying him and his unfortunate victim forward. They crashed onto the hard pavement and rolled, long arms came up and wrapped around his shoulders are they rolled. Finally they came to stop, he lay beneath the other, trembling. Caught up in his daydream, he almost believed he was caught by OZ.

But then . . . the tip of familiar spiky hair brushed his nose.

Strong arms tightened around him as the slim body onto of him shifted slightly.

A Germanic curse slipped into his ears, as the man above him tried to catch his breath. Quatre swallowed. He didn’t know what to do, say . . . didn’t even know how he felt. Trowa Barton . . . His Trowa Barton was there. He let his arms slip up and wrap around Trowa’s neck.

“Are you all right?” Trowa muttered quietly, seemingly unaware of whom he held. Quatre blinked fiercely, memories of that voice flooding back. Nine years. NINE years, he hadn’t heard this voice that once he dreamt of every night. His own breath caught in his throat. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. His feelings, his heart failed him. Here in the dark, he could pretend. Could pretend Trowa never broke his heart, that he’d never said all those things.

Blindly Trowa reached out and touched his cheek.

“Are you all right?” He asked again, Quatre absently noting his breath had the bitter undertone of alcohol in it, “Are you hurt?”

((YES!)) Quatre wanted to yell at him, but concentrated all his strength on trying to hold himself together. Part of him was now angry, fiercely angry with Trowa. It had been his fault as well, why hadn’t Trowa tried to do anything to make it better. Trowa had a way of always getting through to him, no matter how many security precautions Rashid had up; Trowa had always been the one who could see Quatre on a whim. If Trowa had wanted, Trowa could have ended this all so long ago.

Long, rough fingers trailed lightly over his face, seeking out his cheeks, his eyebrows.

There was a gasp of breath, and Trowa muttered carelessly. “It can’t be. . .”

Trowa slowly pulled back from Quatre, and Quatre loosened his arms, lying still. He closed his eyes tightly; he didn’t want to show Trowa how weak he was. Didn’t want to let Trowa see him not coping. He’d made this promise the first night he didn’t cry himself to sleep. Never again would he be weak in front of Trowa. Never again, would he let Trowa get so close to him. His heart was his alone now; Trowa had had his chance, never again would he be fragile before the stoic German pilot.

He felt himself being lifted and carried to a better-lit place. He was set on his feet and finally he opened his eyes and stared, under the poor yellowy light of a street lamp, into dark forest green eyes he thought he’d never want to see again.

“You . . .” Trowa whispered, his eyes widening and then narrowed with anger. “Where’s my sister?”

“She’s with your precious lions.” Quatre started to brush himself off, not willing to rise up against Trowa’s anger and start another argument. “I got sick of waiting for you.”

“Well, you know how it feels then.”

Quatre looked up at Trowa as the taller man growled at him and brushed past him. “Wait.”

“No. Go home, I’m not going on your little missions anymore. I’m too old to mess about.” Trowa kept walking, disappearing into the darkness beyond the streetlight. Quatre gritted his teeth and growled to himself. “Don’t walk away from me, Trowa!”

Trowa didn’t answer him, his brisk footsteps beginning to fade away. Quatre made a sharp, angry sound and started to run after the former lion tamer. “Trowa!”

“What?” The taller spun and glared at him, “What do you want from me! Being the hero doesn’t pay the bills! Playing with the robots doesn’t save my sister from doing a job she hates every day!” He shook his head, storming back toward Quatre, “This all ended nine years ago, Quatre. You, me, everything! I don’t want to play soldiers anymore, go home and play with your toy soldiers!”

“Fuck you.”

Trowa nodded bitterly, “Yeah, that’s the best way to convince me to come with you, Quatre, insult me even more.”

“Fuck you!”

Trowa turned away, “Go home Quatre . . . leave me alone.”

“FUCK YOU!” Quatre roared angrily, “This isn’t about you, this isn’t about any fucking mission! Trowa, this is about Gundam!”

“I’m not Gundam!” Trowa spun back to him, throwing his once graceful arms out angrily, “Get it though your thick skull. I don’t have enough money to be a Gundam anymore. The Barton family is not supporting me any more! I could have a wheelbarrow of cash on this colony and it still wouldn’t be enough to pay for a loaf of bread.” Trowa walked back to Quatre and shook his head, “You’ve no idea how hard it is to live on this colony and we can’t leave because nobody can afford the shuttle tickets . . .” Trowa paused for a moment and stared at him, “I have three jobs, all of which pay the minimum wage, even though the work I do should pay better. I’ve five lions and a sister to help up keep, and I’ll be seventy-nine –IF I keep the same jobs and work every shift I can – before I can ever afford a shuttle ticket to get Catherine off this stinking shit hole of a colony.”

Quatre stared at Trowa with wide eyes; not believing this disillusioned, world-weary man was once ever Trowa Barton.

“That’s providing we don’t hit another depression, if I don’t fall ill, if the lions don’t fall ill, if Catherine can work every day. If we don’t get evicted from our damp ridden apartment. If idiots like you don’t come along and expect me to drop everything and go on a mission with you. I can’t . . .” Trowa shook his head and started to walk away, “I’m not a child any more, Quatre . . . and neither are you. . . we destroyed the Gundams, let someone else save the earth . . .”

“Someone tried to assassinate Duo Maxwell.”

Trowa paused but continued.

“He’s in a coma.”

Trowa stopped but didn’t turn around.

“He will never wake up.”

Trowa turned slowly, looking at Quatre with suspicious eyes.

“So, his lawyer is asking us to get together for one last time and decide . . .” Quatre swallowed hard, trying not to choke on the words. “If . . . if we should . . . let him live anymore . . .”

The tall former pilot walked back toward him. “Duo’s dying?”

“He might already be brain dead . . .” Quatre said quietly, starting to tremble. “But . . . he left us a will, left us something each . . . but only if we go to L2 together . . .”

“. . . but . . .” Trowa began, he shook his head slowly, “I don’t understand . . . are we all in danger?”

“They think it was some loose cannon . . .” Quatre raised his hand and wiped at his nose. “Trowa, please . . . they are going to let him go if we don’t do something!”

“Wufei . . . Heero? What about them?”

“We’ve already found Wufei, he’s with us . . . but we need to find Heero . . .” Quatre swallowed, “they . . . they were best friends, through everything . . . Heero needs to know . . .” he dipped his head, “I know . . . I know that I’ve done so many things wrong . . . but Duo . . . Duo doesn’t deserve to die alone. None of us do.” He glanced up at Trowa and frowned slightly, “When I came here, I was scared . . . honestly scared, Trowa . . . I mean . . .”

The taller man stepped closer to listen, Quatre’s voice was so quiet.

“I mean, did you know Wufei was married, has a daughter now . . . his wife died, all in those nine years . . . I was barely aware he lived on the New L5!” His hand came up and pressed against his chest, “I never felt a thing, I used to feel you all the time, all of you, your emotions even when you were far away . . . but now . . .”

A tear escaped from Trowa’s dark green eyes, but in the darkness, Quatre never knew of it.

“I don’t feel a damned thing, nothing! I didn’t even know if you were alive or not . . .” Quatre shook his head, “it’s horrible . . . Trowa, please! For Duo’s sake, you can disappear again, but please . . . don’t let Duo die alone, don’t let us betray him now!”

(scene change)

“Thank you.”

Catherine nodded absently as the lawyer took a sip from his coffee. She stared at Wufei’s daughter Nataku. The little girl looked around the small kitchen warily as if she expected something nasty to jump out of the cupboards. She wasn’t used to the ugly side of life, Wufei had seen to that. Catherine smiled as the girl notice that she’d caught Catherine’s attention and reddened. She poured Trowa a cup of coffee then leant over toward the girl and smiled charmingly, “Bet you’d rather be out playing!” She winked, “If your daddy will let me, how would you like to take a walk to the Zoo? You can see our lions!”

“I’m afraid you will not see your lions at the Zoo.” Mister Unterward said curtly as he opened a manila folder, he glanced at Catherine, “My client has made arrangements for your lions to be taken to a better facility. He didn’t know where they were being kept, but my client was always keen to help with their upkeep. Second Chance Inc. is now in ownership of the zoo, and arrangements are being made to upgrade it.”

“Why?” Trowa asked quietly, staring at Unterward over the rim of his coffee mug. Unterward raised an eyebrow.

“It was my client’s impression that you would never accept money from him directly, so he is arranging to improve the state of affairs with your lions. I understand the next step is to attempt to convert the zoo from zoo to a hybrid of zoo and circus, with an attempt to recruit from your former circus.” Unterward paused and stared at Trowa, “if you ask why he is so keen to help . . . I think you must realise, my client wants to help you. He was heart broken when he discovered your circus was gone.”

:We've arrived in this kind of time.:
:But somehow we'll die:
:So somehow we're standing here:
:and we're living through today.:

DrM: You know I’ve only just noticed, doesn’t let me have my mandatory three ! at the end of Leave it to DrM… I feel violated.

Duo: YOU feel violated! What about me! What the HELL do you have against ME!

DrM: blinks innocently Nothing. I’m just horrendously jealous of your hair.

Duo: clutches braid

DrM: smiles brightly Please R&R if you want Duo to keep his hair on!