Next up is our favorite suspender wearing clown. Trowa has always been one of my favorites- I think it's something about a man with a feline fetish. What can I say?

Disclaimer- I don't feel like repeating myself, so just check the first chapter k?

Transitions:

It had been far easier to make the transition from pilot to clown than anyone but his new brothers might have guessed. For one, Trowa had no true identity before the war and so, it was no hardship to leave the lonely life of No Name behind. He had been a soldier only because he was nothing else. Not a son, not a brother, or friend, or lover. Not much of a person, really. Just a mercenary with no one to protect but himself.

Now though, now with the war behind him, he’d found those things he’d never had before.

He had a sister: Cathy was as close to him as blood might have been. And hell, sometimes, he had to wonder if she knows something he doesn’t in regards to the subject of family. There are gaps in the stories she tells about her past that always accompany a long soulful look towards him. Those gaps left him wondering if he might have actually known her before the war, before that blankness where his memories end. She had even led him to others in that surrogate family of the circus and crew. Though nowhere near the love that Cathy gave him so freely, they were still people he was growing to understand could be counted on.

And yet, even beyond those civilians, were those few who had made the transition from soldier to person almost easy.

Though they might not know it, they were his brothers in arms… his fellow pilots… his friends- there was no other word for them. Those 4 boys, more men now, he knew, had actually seen him. More than a pilot, he’d been a human being. It was something he hadn’t felt since a blonde girl with a simple cross necklace had shaken him to the core.

It had been a novel and almost disturbing feeling at first. He’d simply pushed it back in his mind until he could learn to process that feeling. He wasn’t sure if it was Quatre’s quiet affection or Heero’s silent support that had finally pulled him out of himself. It was quite possibly both. Either were possible. Either those two or perhaps Duo’s garrulous nature or even Wufei’s unyielding pride. Each pilot, with his own strengths and flaws, had become a part of him without Trowa ever realizing just what was happening.

It was odd, he mused, that it was their gifts, the things that they had passed to him that so helped him find his own humanity that made it so hard to them to find their own lives. It was an annoying irony at best, but somehow appropriate for in light of the chaos that had always been their lot.

Trowa says he'll sick his knife-throwing sister on you if I don't get reviews! lol