Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.
A/N: It was brought to my attention that the story's start is very similar to cjmarie's 'Zero Tolerance'. This just to let everyone know that I enjoy cjmarie's work very much and the story start may sound similar but the story itself is nothing close I promise!
Still short chapter I realise but once I posted the first part I couldn't stop writing. And when I finished this part I couldn't wait to post it
Hope you like!
Posted on Nov. 24 2007
“So Mr. Bloom. How are you feeling today?” The hospital psychiatrist, a middle-aged kind looking man with glasses asked Trowa sitting in front of him looking disinterested. Trowa didn’t answer and just looked outside the window staring at the birds flittering about outside.
“Dr. Ansami tells me that you believe yourself to be sixteen years old and believe in the Gundam robots?”
Silence.
“If you don’t talk to me Mr. Bloom I can’t help you. I am sure you’re feeling a bit disoriented because of your coma but we need to clear up any misunderstandings. Now tell me, you asked for a Quatre Rab.. ba Winner?” He stumbled through the name and Trowa looked at him.
“Raberba. Quatre Raberba Winner.” He corrected and the psychiatrist smiled, finally getting a word out of him.
“Tell me about him.”
Silence. Trowa stared at the doctor hoping that he would let it go. He really didn’t want to talk about Quatre… a guy who might not exist but he was still very much infatuated with to a man who had no idea what he was feeling.
The psychiatrist sighed. Trowa returned to staring outside the window.
“At least tell me what you saw in your dream.” He asked exasperated.
“It wasn’t a dream.” He stated his eyes still on the birds.
“Okay, so tell me what you think is going on?”
Trowa was tired of this. He wanted to go home… wherever home was. “Did you let Catherine know?”
The doctor frowned for a moment but gave in. “She’ll be coming to pick you up tomorrow. But you have to come to at least three sessions with me for me to evaluate you.”
“I’m not coming here again.” He stated plainly. He got up, put the chair back exactly as he had found it and left the office. The psychiatrist sighed and closed Trowa’s file.
“Where are we going?” Trowa and Catherine were in Catherine’s car and she had just taken an exit that turned towards farms and isolated houses.
“Home.” She said.
“Home? We’re farmers?”
“No! But we live in a cottage by the country side. I work in a banking firm. So…in your dream, what did I do?” She asked him curiously, gesturing with one hand, the other she kept on the wheel. Trowa had been surprised when Catherine had showed up. She was wearing a suit, her hair in a bun… so unlike the Catherine he remembered from his dream.
He smiled slightly before telling her, “Circus performer.”
“No way!” She gaped and then laughed at the idea.
“How did I end up in a coma?” He asked bluntly and Catherine glanced at him.
“You fell. You were out in the woods climbing trees, you always loved doing that, and you lost your grip and fell. It was a head injury. It was worsened by the fact that it took me a while to realize what you were missing and then even longer to find you.”
“Hmm.” Trowa grunted.
“Don’t go climbing any more trees, okay Triton? I always worried for you and see? You ended up losing three years of your life because of that reckless hobby.”
“Do you know anyone named Quatre?” Catherine shot him a puzzled look.
“Not that I know of. Why?”
“No reason.” He said and then returned to staring outside the window, watching the scenery zip by him.
Catherine shrugged. At least her brother was alive and well. She had been convinced that he would never come home.
“Triton! The package will be delivered in about an hour but I have to run. Would you mind signing for it?” Catherine said hanging half off the staircase railing, her shoes in one hand. Trowa leaned out of the kitchen wearing a green apron and a spatula in his hand.
“I will.” He let her know before returning to the kitchen.
“Make sure you’re not late for work okay? You just graduated, you want to make a good impression on your boss.” She said as she came into the kitchen, placed a kiss on his cheek before grabbing her purse.
“Be safe.” He told Catherine who shot him a grin and left.
Trowa sighed. It had been four years since he’d come out of the coma. He had written the equivalency tests for high school and had gotten a score high enough to be given a diploma. Then he went to college and majored in Arts. Now he had recently gotten a job as a design consultant at a reputable company.
And yet, every night he still dreamt of Quatre. He dreamt of things he had gone through with the pilots. He felt keenly as though they had been real. That somehow they had gotten ripped away from him… specially Quatre.
He had drawn pictures of him, afraid that maybe one day he won’t remember what Quatre looked like. But he kept the pictures hidden. He had made the mistake of showing one to Catherine and she had looked at him like he was mad. Of courses she didn’t say anything but the look in her eyes made him want to hide them next time.
Finishing up he removed the food from the stove to let it air out. Both Catherine and he got home late so he always cooked dinner in the morning. Catherine left before him so he had taken that responsibility. Just as he had removed his apron the doorbell rang.
Must be the package.
He went to the door and was greeted by a young man, probably late twenties who smiled at him. “Package for Ms. Catherine Bloom?”
“I’m her brother. I’ll sign for it.” Trowa said as he was handed the package and the form. His hand easily scribbled ‘Triton’ on the paper even though he still couldn’t think of himself as Triton.
“Have a good day sir!” He said as he turned to leave. Just as Trowa was closing the door he saw three cars appear. There was a truck following them and they all stopped in the street in front of his house.
Then came all the people. One after another emerging from the cars, all the women, the children… it was like a carnival only that all of them were dressed in suits and dresses. A rich family?
Out of curiosity he opened the door a little more and watched as the truck was opened and the people milling about started shooting orders at the guys bringing out furniture. So they were moving in… Trowa decided. He looked at the direction they were all heading in and it was the house next to his. Neighbours.
He watched as a little boy went and hit another little boy and they started fighting. A pretty woman appeared from the crowd and broke up the fight. He also watched as a man fight with the people moving the furniture. It was lively.
“It’s beautiful here isn’t it?” A smooth, gentle voice came from beside him and Trowa turned to acknowledge the person. When he saw who had said it his voice stuck in his throat and he felt his hands quiver. “Very different from the city. Although I did enjoy the bustle of the city, the peace here is very appealing too.” Trowa continued to stare and the boy in front of him started to worry a little. “Are you all right?” He asked but Trowa wasn’t listening. He was staring at the blond hair, the blue eyes, the petite frame.
“You…” He managed to say.
“Oh! My name is Quatre Winner.” He said offering his hand with a friendly smile. “What is your name?”
“Quatre?” He asked, not believing that not only did this boy look exactly like Quatre from his dream, he sounded like him too. Quatre took his hand back but didn’t look offended.
“Yes, it’s an Arabic name. I know we don’t look Arabic, with the blond hair and blue eyes, but my entire family’s like that.” He supplied gesturing fondly towards the crowd of people.
“Your family?” He felt like he was going insane. This can’t be it. Quatre was a dream… wasn’t he? He can’t be real…
“Yes, quite a lot of people aren’t there? I alone have a lot of sisters.”
“Twenty-nine?” Trowa asked feeling his stomach jump.
Quatre laughed. “No, but you were close. Nine sisters.”
“How was I close?”
“You got the last number right.” He smiled and Trowa felt the warming sensation in his chest that he hadn’t felt since his dream. “Looks like we’ll be neighbours! Hope to see you soon again Mr…?”
“Trowa Barton.” Trowa introduced himself, refusing to use his newer name.
“I’ll see you soon then Trowa. Good day!” And with that Quatre turned around and returned to his family’s side. Trowa stared wide-eyed for a little while longer before sagging down onto the stone porch in disbelief.
His neighbour was Quatre.
A/N: Quatre's back! I can't keep Trowa unhappy for too long now can I? (grins)