Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ At Your Side ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

At Your Side

By Anne Olsen

Rating/warnings: PG13 this chapter, angst, romance.

Pairings: 3x4

Author's notes: This fic is part of the 'Outlasting Time' arc, which is obviously being written way out of order *grins. For more information and to read the other stories in the series check out the following

http://www.angelfire.com/ab7/shadesandechoes/outlastingtime.ht ml

Summary: Six months after 'Counterpoint', Quatre and Trowa discover their long distance relationship isn't working.

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. I promise to return the boys when I'm finished.

Thanks to:. Raletha for beta reading, support, and listening to me ramble for hours on AIM.

Feedback to: anneo@paradise.net.nz

Chapter Three

Sleepily shifting to lean into Trowa's embrace, Quatre opened his eyes with a start as he realised he was feeling empty space where there should have been the warm body of his lover.

I'm in the hospital. The events of the day before came flooding back - arriving at the circus, making love with Trowa, their argument and the accident.

"I'm staying with you as long as you need me." Trowa's words echoed through his mind, and Quatre's mouth turned up into a smile. A sense of inner warmth flowed through him as he felt a part of his lover reach out to him even while asleep. Turning to watch Trowa sleeping in the other bed, Quatre let his head sink back into his pillow, content to listen to the steady rhythm of Trowa's breathing fill the room. His hair sticking out at an even odder angle than usual; Trowa seemed the picture of peaceful innocence lying with one arm tucked under his pillow, the other falling limply to lie at his side. With the intention of sliding in next to him, Quatre moved to get out of his own bed, then realised he wasn't going anywhere because of the drip in his arm, and the cumbersome plaster encasing his leg. A wave of frustration washed over him, bringing him back to the reality of the present situation.

"Hi," Trowa's tone was soft, almost shy, his eyes opening to meet Quatre's. "Sleep well?" The brunet propped himself up on his elbow, after running his hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it into some semblance of order.

"Better than I thought." Quatre couldn't help but grin at the state of Trowa's hair. He always did have problems getting it to behave first thing in the morning. "Thanks for staying, I slept better knowing you were close."

"I said I wouldn't leave you, and I won't." Trowa frowned, noticing the other boy's grin. "It's not that bad, is it?"

"I think it's cute, but then I'm biased," Quatre tried to move up the bed only to be stopped by the traction on his leg. "Damn, I wonder if there's some way to adjust this bed. Lying flat on my back is annoying me already."

"I didn't hear any complaints the last time I had you flat on your back." Trowa scooted over to Quatre's bedside to give him a good morning kiss.

"Hmm," Quatre's reply was lost as he leaned into the kiss. "Are you trying to seduce me, Mr Barton?"

"What if I am?" Trowa paused, a mischievous grin crossing his features. "How long do you think we have until the nurses start their rounds?"

A loud cough came from the doorway and Trowa turned an uncharacteristic shade of pink before pulling away from Quatre. The brunette in the nurse's uniform waved her hand at them as she wheeled in a small trolley. "Don't let me stop you. Unless I can tempt you with some breakfast." She winked. "Though from where I'm standing it looks as though you've already started on your first course."

Grabbing the robe off the end of his bed, Trowa tied it around himself quickly. The nurse grinned, then turned her attention back to Quatre. "Hi, I'm Jennifer and I'm going to be looking after you today. Mr Winner, isn't it? And Mr Barton?"

"Quatre," he corrected her, "and my…this is Trowa."

Jennifer adjusted the back of the bed so that he was in a sitting position. "The lever's on your right side here, see? Three settings - is that better?" She kept talking brightly, seemingly not at all bothered by the fact she'd walked in on them kissing. Jennifer paused before retrieving two breakfast trays off the trolley. "It's not fair you know," she complained placing a tray by Quatre's side, and giving the other one to Trowa. "And by the way I'm warning you now - my duties don't usually involve serving meals, but as you needed your beauty sleep I decided to make an exception this once."

"We appreciate it, thank you." Quatre knew he was probably going to regret the question, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. "What's not fair?"

Rolling her eyes, as she puffed up his pillows, Jennifer gave him a grin. "The cute guys are always taken or gay." She sighed. "Doctor Kaplan will be here in about fifteen minutes. Eat up," the nurse turned before leaving the room to address Trowa. "You'll need your energy for that seduction you promised."

The two boys stared at the door after her, then Trowa broke the silence. "I think I'll wait until we get home before I make any more comments about seducing you. That's the second time someone's overheard; people will start to think we're only together for the sex."

"And of course we're not interested in that at all," Quatre said in a deadpan tone, taking a sip of his tea. "Although I suspect…" Until we get home? "Trowa?"

"Hmmm?" Trowa looked up from spreading jam over his toast, and waited for Quatre to continue. "What?"

When Quatre spoke, his voice was hesitant. Trowa had promised things would be different, and he needed to believe that, but had his use of that word been just a slip of the tongue? "When…when…you just said… when we get home?"

Putting his knife down, Trowa's voice was quiet, yet wistful. "I thought we might…would you like to move in together? We could find somewhere after you're released from the hospital…" He tailed off, watching Quatre for a reaction.

"I'd like that very much, Trowa." You don't know how long I've wanted this, needed this. A thought occurred to him. "Isn't the circus due to move on soon? If you stay here with me, they'll leave without you."

"I've begun to think of the circus as my home but…" Trowa paused, put down his tray, and took Quatre's hand in his own. "I've realised that wherever you are, that's my home, Cat. I'm not sure how we're going to work this out, but this time if we need to split our time between both our worlds we'll do it together."

"I don't want you to give up everything for me, Trowa, but I…maybe there's some way I could work things out with WE." His earlier idea of running away with Trowa to the circus, of giving up his own responsibilities wasn't as feasible as he'd first thought. Once Quatre had become involved with running the family business properly, he'd realised just how hard it would be to walk away, how much he'd be letting down those people who needed him. Yet Trowa needed him just as much, and he needed Trowa.

"Why don't we take one step at a time?" Trowa suggested. "It's going to take a while before you're fit enough to think about…"

"To think about telling my family about us?" Quatre interrupted his lover with a slight shake of his head. "Alimah will support us, and so will Iria, but I'm not sure how the rest of my sisters, or more particularly those on the board are going to react."

"Cat…"

He could sense the apprehension and concern from Trowa, but he needed to finish, to show him that he'd thought this through. During their discussion earlier, and Quatre winced at the memory, Trowa had voiced his worry about revealing Quatre's sexual orientation to his family. As far as Quatre was concerned it was something they'd have to deal with; he cared about his family, but not to the extent that he would let their opinions rule the way he lived his life. He sighed. Most of them didn't know he'd piloted Sandrock either; his father hadn't broadcast the fact that his disobedient son had defied his wishes. The few members of his family who had discovered the truth had voted to deliberately lie about his whereabouts during the war, to hide the real reason he'd disappeared for such a long period of time. When he'd finally returned home he'd had the support of Iria and Alimah, and a few others on the board, but he'd heard the whispering at family gatherings, the speculations and the rumours.

Even after you're gone you still manage to show your disapproval through others, don't you, Father?

"It's okay, Trowa. I've had a lot of time to think this through." He squeezed Trowa's hand. "And I know I'm not doing it alone. Whatever happens we'll face it together." Quatre frowned. "But I must warn you that the Winners are…let's just say they can take some getting used to."

"You're a Winner too, Cat," Trowa reminded him, brushing his lips against Quatre's, before pulling away with a frown. His next words were spoken slowly. "I know you said our relationship was more important than your family's reaction but I…"

"It is more important," Quatre interrupted quickly in an effort to reassure his lover, as he tried to ignore an echo of the hesitation he'd felt from him the day before. "Trowa?"

"I know you wanted to tell your family about us, that we could do it together but…" Trowa's concern intertwined with a slowly growing anger, though it barely broke the canopy of his calm.

"But?" I trust you, Trowa. Quatre felt a knot forming in the pit of his stomach; part of him wanted to reach out to 'read' Trowa, to get more of a sense of what might be coming, yet part of him didn't want to know.

"They already know." The words were spoken calmly enough but someone or something must have caused the anger Quatre was sensing. What had happened while he'd been asleep? Quatre knew Alimah hadn't upset Trowa, the few minutes he'd seen them together last night coupled with the affectionate way she'd teased him had demonstrated her approval.

"How do they know?" Quatre tried to keep his own voice as calm as Trowa's, but his growing suspicions were beginning to lead to a conclusion he didn't want to contemplate. Surely they'd leave him alone after what had just happened; stop hounding him to go along with their ideas? Trowa's next words took him by surprise; he'd been so preoccupied with working out possible scenarios that he hadn't thought of the obvious.

"I told them." What the hell had happened last night? "I'm sorry, Quatre, but…"

"Ghazal." I knew it. Shaking his head, Quatre didn't attempt to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "What did she say to you, Trowa?" If his sister had insulted Trowa or threatened him, it was going to take more than a broken leg to prevent him from ensuring she didn't get the chance of a repeat performance. It was bad enough that he'd spent the last few months listening to her trying to insinuate that he was unable to successfully run WE, but she'd over stepped her boundaries this time. "What did she say to you, Trowa?" he repeated the question, a coldness running through him.

"Quatre?" Trowa placed his hand on Quatre's chin, moving his head so that their eyes met. "It's okay, my love," he said softly. "She asked me what right I have to be with you, so I told her…I told her I was your lover." Quatre felt himself relax as a familiar calmness flowed over him, smoothing away his anger to replace it with Trowa's reassuring presence.

"I'm presuming she didn't take the news very well," Quatre smiled ruefully. Knowing Ghazal that would be an understatement.

"No." Trowa's lips turned up in a small smirk, but before he could continue Doctor Kaplan entered the room.

Forcing himself to hide his frustration at having to wait to hear the rest of Trowa's story, Quatre greeted the doctor with a friendly good morning. Trowa slid his hand off Quatre's but didn't move from his position by his side. Whatever the doctor's news was, he was obviously determined they would face it together.

"Good morning, Mr Winner, Mr Barton." Kaplan returned Quatre's smile. "You're a very lucky young man," he continued, "and I'm pleased to see you have such good support from your friend here. That's going to be helpful for what's ahead."

"Ahead?" Quatre could feel the quiet concern radiating from Trowa as he spoke.

"Compound fractures are always treated with caution, Mr Barton, and recovery doesn't happen overnight. However," Kaplan nodded his reassurance, "in this case there is a good chance of a complete recovery."

"What time frame are we looking at, Doctor?" This time it was Quatre who asked the question. "How long can I expect to be incapacitated?" He indicated the plaster on his leg.

"Your injury consisted of a compound fracture of the tibia, further complicated by the fact you landed in an open field, the soil of which can contain matter leading to infection, as it was recently used for agricultural purposes. But the boost of antibiotics we're feeding you through this," Kaplan indicated the drip in Quatre's arm, "should make the chances of that happening quite negligible."

"What if the antibiotics don't completely prevent the infection?" Quatre could feel Trowa's unspoken concern as he voiced the question.

"With modern medicine the way it is, and the treatment you're receiving I doubt that's a scenario we have to worry about." Kaplan's bedside manner was excellent, Quatre had to admit the man hid his reservations and concerns well, although he probably had no idea his patient was capable of reading his emotional response as well as the optimism he projected. "You'll be in plaster for about six weeks, but will be able to go home in a few days." Kaplan paused. "The physiotherapist will show you the leg exercises you'll need to do daily, but after the plaster comes off you'll have to come in for the major physio. Is any of that going to be a problem?"

Shaking his head, Trowa answered for Quatre. "I'll be there to provide any help he might need." He gave Quatre a small wink while Kaplan consulted the notes at the end of the bed, and Quatre felt himself blush. The look of quiet concern Trowa was showing the doctor didn't entirely reflect the plans his lover had in store.

"You should expect to be on crutches for at least two weeks after the plaster is removed, maybe longer depending on how much muscle wasting has occurred." Doctor Kaplan continued with his explanation, totally oblivious of the fact his patient was trying hard not to react to the emotions Quatre suspected Trowa was deliberately projecting. "I'll leave you two alone to digest the information I've just given you. If you have any questions I'll be happy to answer them when I see you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Doctor," Quatre nodded his thanks. "I appreciate you taking the time to explain everything."

Turning to leave the room, Kaplan stopped before reaching the door. "You're getting a room mate this afternoon, so the other bed will no longer be free but I'll let the nursing staff know that Mr Barton is to be allowed the visiting privileges usually given to a spouse." Kaplan smiled. "Your friends are waiting rather impatiently outside. Enjoy your visit." The door closed behind him quietly, leaving the two boys alone.

"Spouse?" Quatre couldn't help but grin.

"Umm, when I filled in the admittance form, they wanted a contact name and number for your partner, if you had one, so I gave them mine. That's okay isn't it?" Trowa smiled shyly, his hesitant tone suggesting he was concerned about Quatre's reaction.

"Come here," Quatre pulled Trowa closer and answered him with a kiss. "Does that answer your question?" He sighed, contentment cascading through him as Trowa caressed his cheek, to gently wipe the tears. "Thank you, Trowa. You don't know how long I've waited for this."

"Longer than you should have had to, Cat." Trowa's eyes were damp with his own emotion, then his tone became serious. "But whatever the repercussions, I'm there for you. We'll get through this together." His hand slipped into his pocket, and that same nervousness echoed through Quatre's space-heart that he'd felt earlier when Trowa had interrupted his talk with Cathy. "Quatre…"

Before Trowa could continue, there was a loud cough at the door followed by a very familiar voice. "You guys behaving in there? We don't want to interrupt anything." Duo muttered something under his voice, shooting a glare at one of his companions after he entered the room, followed at a more sedate pace by the other pilots. "You're no fun, Heero."

You already have, Quatre thought, torn between feeling happy to see his friend, and the urge to deck him because of the moment he'd interrupted. What did Trowa have in his pocket? That was twice now his lover had been on the verge of attempting to gather the courage to give him something, and twice something had prevented him. Quatre reached out empathically towards Trowa, trying to get some sort of clue from the brunet's emotions but Trowa squeezed his hand, and shook his head.

"Later," he said. "I promise."

"Later?" Quatre could see Duo's ears prick up, his mind switching into overdrive, an all too familiar look on his face, as he voiced the question.

Choosing to ignore Duo's interjection, Trowa instead shifted his attention towards Heero. "I need to talk to you for a moment."

"Trowa?" Quatre frowned, sensing a ripple of subdued anger through Trowa's ocean of calm.

Rising to his feet, Trowa indicated that Heero should follow. "Just trust me. We'll be back shortly."

Nodding, Quatre decided to ignore the uneasiness trickling through him. Was Trowa still trying to protect him? He shivered, as the memory of those last few seconds before he'd been thrown by the impact of the car flooded his memory. There was something about the accident he was trying to remember, something important. Quatre groaned aloud, as the elusive piece of information sank again to the bottom of the murky waters of the blackness which had engulfed him as he'd lost consciousness. Trowa, I remember reaching for Trowa. But before then, I felt something. I know I did.

"Cat?" Trowa stopped, his brow creasing into a frown. "Is everything all right? I can do this later if you like."

"No, it's okay." Quatre decided it might be better if they discussed this in private; he might remember more by the time their friends had left. "Go. Do what you have to." He smiled ruefully. "After all it's not as though I'm going anywhere."

Pulling a chair up beside the bed, Duo waved at Trowa and Heero. "Get going already. The sooner you go the sooner you're back. Wufei and I will look after him."

"And I'll look after you." Wufei's tone was perfectly deadpan, but Quatre could sense the amusement coming from him. Distracted by watching the door close behind Heero, Quatre wasn't expecting the next comment from the Chinese pilot. "So while Barton isn't here to overhear, would one of you like to enlighten me on the story behind this poker game?"

******

Sipping his coffee, and sifting through the events of the previous day, Trowa waited for Heero to seat himself in the chair opposite. He tuned out the noise of the nearby ambulance sirens, the bustle of visitors coming to and from the hospital, focusing instead on cataloguing his suspicions regarding Quatre's accident. The small coffee shop outside the hospital was further away from Quatre's bedside than he would have preferred, but it was better that they have this conversation in private. Duo and Wufei were with Quatre, Trowa reminded himself, glancing at his watch, and this wouldn't take long. Ghazal wouldn't be wasting any time in her quest to see her brother, especially after what had happened last night, and there was no way he was intending to let Quatre face her alone.

"You wish to speak to me about Quatre's accident?" Heero had never been one for small talk, preferring instead to get straight to the point.

Nodding, Trowa kept his voice calm. "It wasn't an accident," he stated firmly.

"Oh?" Heero's eyebrow rose as he digested the information. "And you know this because?" Even though his tone was brusque, Trowa could read the concern in his voice, and a part of him was relieved that Heero had been assigned to the investigation. Heero was Quatre's friend, but he wouldn't let their friendship impair his judgement when tracking down whoever was responsible for putting him in the hospital. Either Wufei or Duo would have handled the case just as well, but their response would have been far more emotional. Heero would be able to separate the two, not letting his temper or his desire for revenge affect his progress.

"An eyewitness stated at the scene that the car came straight for him. Also Quatre…" Trowa took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. "He was lying quite a distance from the road when I found him. Taking into consideration his injuries, I think it's highly unlikely that he'd stepped onto the roadside before he was hit." Trowa's voice hardened. "I want to find whoever did this, Heero, and the reason why."

"There's no way I can allow you to become part of this investigation," Heero reminded him. "Apart from the fact you are emotionally involved, there's also the matter that you aren't a Preventer and this is an official investigation by order of Lady Une." As ex Gundam pilots an accident such as this would fall under Preventer jurisdiction. A police investigation ran the risk of uncovering classified information, both about them and their mecha.

"I'm not asking to officially take part in the investigation," Trowa replied. "But I would like to be kept updated on your progress." He deliberately phrased it as a request rather than a statement, knowing that Heero would understand his meaning.

"I consider you and Quatre to be my friends, Trowa." Heero placed his coffee cup on the small table, his voice growing soft. "And as he is unable to satisfactorily defend himself until his injuries heal, it makes sense for the person closest to him to be privy to information which could prevent another attempt on his life. Unofficially of course."

"Of course." Trowa nodded his thanks.

"Do you have any idea who might be behind the hit and run?"

Trowa shook his head. "He was a Gundam pilot, Heero. Anyone who knows that Quatre and 04 are one and the same could be responsible. The fact that he's been running WE for the past six months is another factor." He thought back to what Alimah had told him before she'd left the night before. "I know there are people who would prefer he stepped down."

"You think his own family could be behind this?" Heero frowned, a look of distaste fleeting across his features.

"I don't know," Trowa admitted. "But I don't think we…you should rule out any possibilities until there is information to the contrary."

Taking a sip of his coffee, Heero nodded. "I give you my word, I intend to explore every possible scenario regarding this investigation." His voice hardened. "If someone did this to Quatre deliberately, I will find them and ensure they don't get an opportunity for a repeat performance."

"They won't," Trowa reassured him. As soon as he was able, Trowa planned to contact Rashid and inform him of the current situation. Quatre might not think he needed protecting but in this situation, or at least until the person responsible had been suitably dealt with, Trowa would rest more easily knowing someone would be discreetly watching his lover on those times he couldn't be there himself.

"Good." Heero's lips pressed together into a thin smile. "If you need any help or have any concerns…" He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Trowa. "This has my cell and home number on it. I know you'd be able to find them if needed, and Quatre already knows how to contact me, but in case the situation escalates faster than anticipated I'd prefer to know you have the information on hand. Do you still carry a weapon?"

"No, but I can rectify that easily enough." Trowa nodded his approval before rising to leave. "I need to get back before Quatre's sister decides to grace him with her presence."

The side of Heero's mouth turned up in a minute twitch. "If we walk slowly, it would give Duo a chance to voice his very high opinion of her. After the blow by blow account Wufei and I heard last night, I doubt it would take much to make him lose his cool."

"It's not Duo I'm worried about," Trowa told him, increasing his speed, as they hurried across the road. He doubted that being confined to bed or in plaster would slow down Quatre's response if Ghazal insulted their friends. The brunet smiled. Not many people saw that side of his lover, but those who did very rarely forgot.

******

"Iria, stop fussing," Quatre complained, ignoring the grin on Duo's face as he watched her play the over protective big sister. "I'm fine, it looks worse than it is."

"Save it for those people in the room who aren't doctors, little brother," Iria chastised. "If I want to fuss over you, I'll fuss over you, okay?"

"You heard her, little brother," Duo repeated, and Quatre groaned. That was all he needed - ammunition for Duo to add to his collection of smart remarks. "Ouch," grumbled the former Deathscythe pilot as Alimah pulled on his braid. "What the hell was that for?"

"Don't be smart," she told him. "Or maybe I should start calling you 'little pilot'"

"Oh, but you know I'm not," Duo retorted smugly, while Quatre debated how long it would take him to leave the room, even with the added burden of a plaster and IV.

From his position on the other side of the bed, Wufei groaned. "I'm surprised you came out of that game as well as you did, Winner, playing with the two of them."

Unable to resist a smirk, Quatre remembered Wufei's reaction as Duo had related the story behind that fun incident. But then Duo had only given his version of what had happened; the actual truth had a slightly different spin on it. "It all comes down to strategy," he reminded his friend. "Knowing when to fold, and when not to." Quatre winked suggestively at Duo. "And some of us are better at quitting before the stakes become too high, or it becomes too hard to withdraw from the game."

"Damn shame Tro isn't here to confirm that. Right, Cat?" Duo quickly twisted the comment so that it landed back on Quatre's side of the court.

"So you're planning on asking him when he gets back?" Alimah as usual, couldn't resist putting in her two cents worth. "Might be fun, he's cute when he's embarrassed."

"Ali…" Quatre wondered again why he'd ever introduced his sister and his best friend. He looked beseechingly at Iria; but her concern for him had quickly changed into something else entirely.

"Don't look at me," Iria told him, laughing. "This is like watching a double act at the circus. I must borrow them one day to take back to L4. They'd do wonders for some of my patients."

Opening his mouth to retort with something smart, Quatre frowned, sighing as a familiar voice came from the doorway.

"Quatre, I've been so worried."

Oh great. Quatre had known it was only a matter of time before Ghazal and Glen decided they had to show their concern in person. "I'm fine, Ghazal. Thank you for your concern." He forced himself to answer politely, fighting the urge to tell his sister his thoughts regarding what she'd had the nerve to say to Trowa the night before. Duo had been all too willing to fill him in on the details, and by the time he'd finished, the other pilot hadn't been the only one ready to draw blood.

Moving over to sit next to the bed, Ghazal glanced around for a vase to put her large bouquet of flowers in. "Could you be a dear and put these in water?" she asked Wufei. Ghazal indicated the simple but elegant pair of roses already by Quatre's bedside. "I'm sure you could find another place for those, yes?"

"No," Quatre replied, making no attempt to hide the coldness in his voice. "Those are from a friend, and they are staying where they are." Shortly after Trowa had left a courier had arrived with the roses together with the card from Relena, and he'd been touched by the thought which had gone into the sentiments expressed in her card and choice of bouquet.

"Another friend I haven't met?" Ghazal sighed. "You seem to have a lot of those Quatre, dear." Quatre counted slowly to ten, but then gave up as Ghazal reached over to give Wufei the flowers. "Could you be a dear and put these in water?" she repeated.

Glaring at her, Wufei shook his head. "I'm sure if you asked a nurse, they could help you figure out how to do it yourself." He glared at her, then muttered something under his breath.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners, young man?"

"Didn't yours?" Duo broke into the conversation. "He's Quatre's friend, lady, not some servant you can boss around. If you want to put your freaking flowers in water, do it yourself."

It was a few minutes before Ghazal answered; the corner of one eye twitching slightly was the only outward sign of her annoyance, but then she'd had years of practising her public persona. "I don't think much of your friends, Quatre. Whatever company you've been mixing in, it's no surprise you haven't seen fit to introduce them to the rest of the family."

Glen moved forward to offer his wife support, his comment demonstrating he agreed with her sentiments. "They obviously have no idea how to behave in public."

"And you do?" The tone of Quatre's voice dropped a few more degrees, as he struggled into a more upright position. Damn this stupid plaster. "As Duo said, he and Wufei are my friends, and I will not allow you to treat them otherwise." He paused, and then looked over at the door, giving Trowa a smile as he and Heero entered the room.

Before he could continue, Iria approached Trowa and gave him a hug. "I'm Quatre's sister, Iria." Her smile grew wider. "Your photo doesn't do you justice, Trowa. I always knew you had good taste, Cat, and this proves it."

"Pleased to meet you too, Iria. Quatre's spoken of you often." Trowa frowned. "Photo?"

"The photos we took during our last holiday," Quatre explained, blushing slightly. They'd spent a day exploring a small town on Earth, managed to find an old fashioned photo booth, and Quatre had insisted they try it out. Trowa had agreed, surprising him with a kiss just as the flash had gone off. One thing had led to another after that, in the private darkened booth, leaving them a collection of rather revealing photographs.

"Oh?" Trowa's calmness was impressive, considering the scenario that must have been running through his mind.

"The first one, not the others," Quatre spoke quickly to reassure his lover. He ignored Duo's smirk, "Iria, this is my friend, Heero. Heero Yuy, Iria Winner."

"Pleased to meet you too, Heero."

"Iria," Heero gave her a polite nod, before speaking to Quatre. "I need to speak to you about the accident, but we can talk later. Trowa's already given me his statement." He glanced around the room, acknowledging Alimah's presence with another nod, but pointedly ignoring Ghazal and Glen, before seating himself on the other bed.

Wriggling over to make room on the bed, Quatre gave Trowa a not so chaste kiss on the lips, as he perched himself gracefully on the offered space. "For last night," he murmured in Trowa's ear. "Thank you." Trowa might not have wanted to worry him with the full story of what had passed between himself and certain members of Quatre's family, but Quatre fully intended to make sure Ghazal realised just how important Trowa was to him.

"Quatre Raberba Winner, what the hell are you doing?" Ghazal's tone of disgust was echoed strongly by the feelings of repulsion projected by her husband.

"I'm kissing my lover, Ghazal," Quatre kept his voice even, "what the hell do you think I'm doing?" He placed his hand over Trowa's, focusing on the other boy's calmness as he attempted to ignore the wave of negative emotions.

"I suggest you get away from him now, Barton." Glen clenched his fist, but unclenched it again after noticing how quiet the room had become. "If you don't I'll have you removed. Just because this has happened to Quatre, it doesn't give you the right to take advantage of him, and taint him with your lies."

"And what lies would those be?" Trowa's hand tightened around Quatre's, before he replied to Glen's accusation. "I told you last night, Glen. I love Quatre, and…"

"How dare you?" Glen walked over to the bed, his eyes glinting dangerously. "How the hell would you know anything about love? You might be under the mistaken idea that this so called love you talk about is reciprocated, but I assure you once he's recovered and not under your influence you'll discover your error. I'm not sure what you expect to achieve by tarnishing the Winner name by this slander, but I fully intend to put a stop to it now, you…you…freak."

Taking a sharp breath, Quatre pulled his hand from Trowa's grasp to rub his chest. "It's okay," he told Trowa, before shifting his focus onto the bigoted man standing before them. "You do not insult my friends, and you certainly do not insult the man I love. Yes, Glen, that's right." Glen's lips had pursed together into a grimace. "You heard me correctly, and I'll spell it out so that you are in no doubt. I love Trowa, and he loves me. I'm not going to suddenly discover my error, as you so crudely put it, and if you can't handle the fact I'm in love with another man, that's your problem."

"Quatre, dear, do you know what you're saying?" Ghazal was horrified. She placed a hand on his forehead to check for a sign of fever and he pushed it away.

"Oh, I'm quite aware of what I'm saying," Quatre sighed. What did it take to get through to them? "Yes, Ghazal, I'm gay, and yes, Trowa and I are lovers…" Quatre took a deep breath before continuing. "Do I need to spell out what I mean by lover?"

"He means they're having great sex," Duo put in helpfully, ignoring the glares. "Hey, someone has to spell it out to the bitch."

"I don't think Quatre was planning on that someone being you, Maxwell," Wufei commented dryly. "He didn't ask for your help, and I doubt he needs it."

The room spun momentarily, and Quatre reached out for Trowa both physically and emotionally, trying desperately to anchor himself. So much anger and disgust; the negative emotion directed at himself and Trowa had been difficult enough to deal with, but now his friends' emotions were helping to erode his already weakening shielding. His breathing became ragged, and for a moment he was back on the roadside, reliving the accident. Hate, revenge, darkness. Quatre cried out, trying to escape the nightmares of his memories.

"Cat, it's okay. I'm here." Gradually Quatre became aware of an enveloping calm, an overwhelming sense of peace, of belonging, of love, and he opened his eyes to meet Trowa's.

"Trowa, I…" I remember. He'd been walking along the grass verge, concentrating on getting himself under control. Once he cleared his head, he'd be able to talk to Trowa. He'd sensed a desire to work things out, before he'd left the trailer, a longing for a future together, and the hope had given him the anchor he'd needed so desperately to hang onto. A hope which had quickly been replaced by strong feelings of hate and revenge, when Quatre had glanced up in surprise to see a black car accelerating towards him. He'd reacted almost without thinking, pulling his body into a roll in an attempt to avoid the impact, but he hadn't moved fast enough.

Leaning into the embrace Trowa offered, tremors shook Quatre's body as the memories came flooding back. "It's okay," Trowa's voice was soothing, his fingers stroking Quatre's hair, as he pulled the other boy closer.

"Cat?" Iria's concern quickly changed to anger. "Get out," she told her sister and brother-in-law. "I don't want to see you anywhere near this room until Quatre has fully recovered. Can't you see what you're doing to him?"

"But," Ghazal sounded apologetic, but Iria wasn't having any of it.

"Don't you even try any of that crap with me, I'm not buying it." Iria leaned over and whispered something to Trowa who nodded. "Everyone out now, and I mean everyone."

Pulling himself together, Quatre struggled, with Trowa's help, to return to a sitting position. "I'm sorry, guys, but I need some space." He didn't want them to think he hadn't appreciated what they'd tried to do, but all the negative emotion in the room had somehow triggered the buried trauma of the previous day, and his space-heart was feeling the strain. Normally he'd be okay; he'd coped with worse during the war, but the added physical strain his body had gone through over the past twenty-four hours, plus the sedatives and medication still in his bloodstream were hindering his ability to dampen his empathy. Trowa's presence seemed to be helping, but it wasn't enough.

"Too much crap in the air?" Duo asked, rubbing his chest to indicate he'd guessed what the problem was.

"I'm sorry," Quatre repeated, nodding, and giving Duo a shaky smile of appreciation. When this was over Heero and Wufei deserved an explanation; he could feel the mixture of confusion and curiosity flowing from each of them.

"Not a problem, and stop apologising, already," Duo gave him one of his trademark grins. "C'mon, guys. I think it's time we went and annoyed Cathy some more. We've let her sleep long enough. Want to come meet Tro's big sister?" He asked Iria, who was glaring at Ghazal and Glen as they hastily exited the room.

"I might do that, thanks," she replied. "I think I've had enough of my charming sister for one day. Ali?" Iria kissed Quatre on the cheek, before collecting her handbag and coat.

"Yeah sure." Alimah paused. "I'll have a word with the nurses downstairs and tell them those two aren't allowed in here until you're ready to give permission, Quatre. That sound okay?"

Quatre nodded. "Thanks, Ali, Iria. I appreciate everything you've done." He glanced up at Trowa. "We both do."

******

"Are you sure you're okay?" Now they were alone, Trowa kissed Quatre gently on the lips. "That wasn't just a reaction to what just happened was it?"

Shaking his head, Quatre leant his head against Trowa's shoulder as the other boy swung his legs onto the mattress, and snuggled in next to him. "I'm not sure why, but all that negative emotion - it brought back the memories of the accident." He shivered, and Trowa wrapped a comforting arm around him. "Memories and something else. I felt…something from the driver, before the car hit."

Trowa chilled at Quatre's words. "Felt what exactly?" he prompted, even though he had a fair idea what was coming. Quatre hesitated, his eyes glazing as he remembered back to what had happened the day before, and Trowa squeezed his hand in a gesture of reassurance while he waited for him to continue.

"Hate, that was the strongest, and," Quatre spoke slowly, his voice shaking slightly. "Revenge? At least I think that's what it was. The person behind the wheel was angry, angry at me for something I'd done." His brow furrowed in concentration, as a strong sense of regret and self-reproach flowed from him. "Even though it was the right decision to fight, there is so much I regret, Trowa. I know we had no choice, but sometimes, sometimes I wish there had been another way. I still hear the voices of those people I killed, feel their spirits being extinguished as they died." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I can't forget…"

You can't forget ZERO. Neither of them finished the sentence aloud, but they both knew what Quatre couldn't say. "We were soldiers fighting a war, Cat, and did what we had to. You can't dwell on what's done; it's important to move forward and concentrate on the future." Trowa paused. "Do you think the driver knew you were a Gundam pilot?"

"Possibly. It's the only explanation I can think of." Quatre sighed. "Either that or someone connected to WE. I know I've made a few enemies because of decisions I've made, but I doubt…" He shook his head, unwilling to pursue that line of reasoning further. "I asked them not to publish that photo but it still managed to find its way into the papers." Quatre laugh sounded bitter. "Did you know that Father specified that it not be made public knowledge that I was piloting a Gundam? Even now very few members of my family know, and the few that do respect his memory enough to insist his wishes are still adhered too, even after his death."

"So you couldn't explain why you didn't want it published?" Even though Quatre was in theory CEO of WE, his authority was still undermined by his dead father. It was difficult to provide leadership to those whose allegiances lay elsewhere.

Nodding, Quatre shrugged. "They think I'm too young for the position, that I haven't the experience he had. It's ironic really, considering that there isn't much difference between the strategies utilised on the battlefield and in the boardroom. And I think I've proven that I have a slight idea of how to handle myself in battle."

"A very slight idea," Trowa commented dryly. "Underestimating you is going to be a decision they will quickly regret. And going against your wishes could lead to the very revelation they're trying to avoid." Pretending Quatre hadn't been a Gundam pilot wasn't going to change the past; these idiots were playing a very dangerous game, a game which had nearly cost their young CEO his life.

"I don't want to hide what I did. Fighting for the colonies, to end the war was important, but…but I'm not naïve enough to think everyone is going to perceive things the way I… we do." Quatre's hand strengthened its grip on Trowa's. "People change their views so quickly. I still remember the way they turned on us, even though we were risking our lives for them."

"Human nature is fickle, Cat. In the end the important thing is to do what's right, to be true to yourself." Trowa turned Quatre's head so that their eyes met. "And then to try and live with the consequences. That's something this accident has shown me." He took a few deep breaths before continuing. "I…I need to explain why I've been acting the way I have." The rhythm of their breathing filled the silence between them while Trowa searched for the words he needed, finding strength in turquoise depths, as Quatre waited until his lover was ready. "I kept telling myself we had forever, that if we waited, if I waited, the time would come where…the time would be right, that people would accept… I had nothing to offer you except myself, Quatre, and even though I love you, I wasn't sure it was enough."

"Oh, Trowa, it's always been enough," Quatre's eyes filled with tears, as he placed a kiss on Trowa's cheek.

"It was enough for us, but I knew your family wouldn't see it the same way. I couldn't ask you to give everything up for me; Quatre I don't even know who I am, who I really am." Trowa caressed Quatre's hand with his own. "It would have been…Ghazal's reaction to you being with another man, I'd convinced myself I was protecting you from the pain of your family's rejection. But, in doing so I was causing you pain. And then when I found you…" His voice hitched. "I…I…realised that in waiting, I…we could have never known…I nearly lost you once before, I couldn't lose you again."

Soft lips met his, before Quatre broke the kiss and spoke gently. "I know who you are," Quatre placed Trowa's hand on his chest. "You're the man I love, the part of me I need to be complete. Names don't matter, to me you'll always be Trowa, and muHibb…[1]" Trowa smiled at Quatre's slip into his native Arabian, "from now on we'll live each day as though it's forever."

Forever.

Slipping his hand into his pocket, Trowa shyly brought out the small square case he'd been carrying since the day before. "I was going to give this to you yesterday, but, well, things didn't quite go the way we planned."

"Trowa?" Trowa wiped the tears flowing down Quatre's cheeks with one slender finger, then placed the box in his hand. Hesitation merged with curiosity, while Quatre fumbled with the old fashioned clasp. "Oh, Trowa…" His voice came out in an awed whisper after he saw the gold pocket watch lying inside, cradled in its bed of red silk. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

"I wanted you to have something, something tangible for those times when I couldn't be with you." Trowa paused, taking a moment to bath in the echoes of contentment and joy echoing through him from his lover. "Turn it over," he told Quatre. "The inscription; it was on the watch when I found it, but the words reflect - they express the way I feel perfectly." The man in the antique shop had been right, Trowa thought, remembering the words he'd used. 'Meant to be. That watch is special.'

Hands shaking, Quatre's fingers caressed the old watch, almost reverently, before turning it over. "No one's ever done something like this for me before," he whispered, his lips moving silently as he read the words to himself. A smile crossed his lips, his eyes shining and moist with emotion. "Could you…could you read it aloud to me? Please?"

Nodding, Trowa noticed Quatre's eyes close as he began to slowly repeat the words which would forever remain inscribed in both their hearts. A shared sentiment expressing the way they felt for each other, the depth of the love between them.

"True love outlasts time."

******

[1] muHibb is Arabian for lover

******

End of Chapter Three

TBC