Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Burnout ❯ Chapter 17 ( Chapter 20 )

Konnichiwa!

I love it when I go to my `rent's house! I get all inspired to write! And I'm here for a whole week! ::Does a happy dance::

Please enjoy

^-^

Weissangel24

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Chapter seventeen

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"If you're going to be looking for the rest of `em, I suppose you'll find him eventually."

"Duo, do you mean. . ."

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Quatre ran out of Relena's school, without an explanation to Hiiro or Rashid. Neither soldier was very happy with the abruptness of the blonde's decision. As quickly as he could, he prepped Sandrock for space and loaded it onto a shuttle. After an agonizingly long flight, he finally arrived at L3. A taxi was waiting for him when he exited the shuttle port. Quickly, the teenager got into the vehicle and ordered his destination with urgency. The older man smiled and assured him that he'd be there as soon as possible. Now he stared out the window, his guilt ridden mind wistfully thinking of that certain banged boy whom he was sure he had killed.

Murdered.

"Please let it be you. . ." He whispered, a tear slipping down his face, "Please, Trowa?"

Not a single day, hour or minute when by that the smaller boy didn't stop blaming himself for what had happened to the banged boy. He had convinced himself that even if Trowa were alive, he'd never forgive him. . . never love him. . . he was a monster. A heartless killer of thousands, maybe even millions. He really had no idea how many people were living on the colonies that he destroyed with the Wing Zero.

No, Trowa would never be able to forgive him and he didn't deserve it.

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"Let me warn you, Quat." Duo had said, "He's different from the last time we saw him."

"How so?"

"He's not the same person that he was when we left for space." The braided boy tried to explain. "He went through something awful. Something un-imaginable."

"And it's my fault. . . all of my fault. . ."

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"Please be alright. . ." He prayed, as the cab pulled into the parking lot of the Circus.

"Here you are, Kid." The older man smiled, "Shall I wait for you? Or would you rather I come back later?"

Quatre looked at the man, "I'm not sure how long I'll be." He apologized, "How about giving me an hour and then I'll meet you here?"

"Sure thing, Kid." The driver smiled sympathetically, as the young blonde exited the car.

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The show was outstanding. They received a standing ovation and many children pleaded for more. Catherine Bloom and her adopted brother Trowa stepped out of the tent and out by the animal cages.

"That was a great show, Trowa." She smiled, "You really are a natural at this."

Trowa simply nodded, as he started towards the lion cages.

"Oh, Trowa." Catherine sighed, "You seem so miserable. Can't you just be happy, now that you're away from the fighting?"

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Quatre stared up at the huge circus tent. "He's here?" He asked himself in disbelief. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he wandered the grounds. "Oh, Trowa. . ." he shook his head. "Why would you be here?"

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He knelt in front of the Lion's cage, stroking the muzzle of the large beast while he whispered soft words to it. Suddenly, he felt as if he wasn't alone, that someone was there behind him, watching him.

Someone familiar.

Slowly, he swallowed the lump in his throat and looked up and over his shoulder. Someone was there. A small blonde boy with beautiful blue eyes. Familiar eyes that were glistening with tears. There was a look of joy, pure joy, on the boy's face.

`He seems. . . I. . . I know him?' He thought, standing and taking half a step back, as the blonde took a step forward, never breaking eye contact. `It's like. . . he has me under a spell. . .'

And then he spoke.

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He couldn't believe it! Duo was right! `He is here!' Quatre thought with joy, "Trowa?" He asked hesitantly, as the boy took a half step back. A look of fear crossed the banged boy's face. `He's afraid of me. . .' The blonde realized, as the fear emanating from the boy, pierced his heart. "Oh, Trowa. . ." He couldn't help it. The tears he had been holding at bay rolled down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry. . ."

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`He is apologizing to me, but I don't know why. It seems to be eating him up inside. I just. . . I can't explain it. . . I just want to wrap my arms around him and tell him everything's okay. . . but I . . .' The banged boy looked very confused, "Do. . . Do you know me?" He asked.

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Quatre froze at that question. "Trowa?" He asked as more tears fell. "It's me. . ." He looked broken heartedly at the taller boy, "Don't you remember?"

"I'm sorry. . ." The banged boy shook his head, "but I. . ."

"TROWA!"

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The taller boy blinked in surprise as he looked down at the small boy who had just assaulted him with a hug.

The small boy that now had his head buried his head into his shirt and was sobbing his heart out.

The small boy that was whispering his grief and apologies, as his tears stained his shirt.

The small boy that he was sure he knew. . .

"TROWA!" A sharp voice cried in alarm.

The banged boy looked up and stepped away from the blonde, "Cathy?" He asked, confused by his sister's anger.

"GET BACK TO THE TENT!" She ordered, and then added softer, "I'll finish looking after the animals, so just go back inside."

"O-O-Okay, Cathy." The boy nodded, looking shaken up by this woman's tone of voice. Slowly, he turned and walked into the tent, pausing slightly to take a good look at the blonde boy that was trying to dry his tears, and control his hiccupping sobs.

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`He's leaving!' Quatre took a step to stop him, but the woman stepped in front of him, preventing him from following. She looked pissed.

"You've come to take him back to the fighting!" she snarled, "Don't you think he's suffered enough already?"

Quatre sniffled and looked at the ground.

Catherine studied the boy for a moment before continuing, "He's lost his memories, because they are too painful to remember."

"It's my fault. . ." The blonde whispered, "Trowa got hurt correcting a mistake that I had made. . . I . . . I don't ever expect to be forgiven for it."

"Then do Trowa a favor and leave him alone!" Catherine shouted, spinning on her heal and storming into her trailer.

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From inside the tent, Trowa watched the conversation transpire between the woman he called sister and the small blonde boy. He watched as the boy started to cry again and as he turned and left.

Suddenly, Trowa's head began to ache and he began to feel frigid. "Oh no!" He gasped, wrapping his arms around himself, "Not again! I'm so. . .c-c-cold. . ." His breath became ragged, "I. . . I know that guy!"

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To be continued. . .