Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Changing Quatre ❯ Chapter 1

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Title: Changing Quatre
Dedicated to: Shadow Fox
Warnings: Angst; swearing.

* * *

Chapter 1

Quatre sighed and pushed back his papers. Leaning backwards, he closed his eyes and rubbed his aching head. All this paperwork was going to drive him crazy one of these days, he just knew it! He was surprised that his father had been able to do this for over three decades. If it was him, he would've given in after five years!

Sighing, Quatre stood up, making his way to the balcony looking over the side of the building. This was his only relief in this tight space of an office. The balcony looked over the ocean, which glittered in the late afternoon sun. Quatre raised his face towards the sky, smiling softly. It was so relaxing here...

"Quatre!"

Quatre cursed, and turned to glare at his sister who'd just come in. Janice glared back at him and threw a file onto his desk.

"What is the meaning of this?!" she yelled.

Quatre made his way casually to his desk, and picked up the file. Flipping through the pages idly, he dropped it back on his desk and looked to his sister with a raised eyebrow.

"It was the proposal made by the Magno Co."

"Exactly!" Janice snapped. "Do you know how much influence that company has in the commercial field? They could wipe us out if we don't have a contract with them!"

Quatre snorted, and almost sneered at his sister. He sat down gracefully in his leather chair and looked at his sister with contempt.

"I do know what I am doing, sister dearest," he said sarcastically. "Now stop patronizing me!"

Janice gave him one last hard glare before stomping out of his office, banging the door shut after her. Sighing, Quatre slumped in his seat and caressed his throbbing head. Tossing his drawer open, he picked out the bottle of pills and swallowed two dry. Tapping his armrest as he waited for the pills to take effect, he cursed in frustration when his phone buzzed.

"What?!" he snapped at the receptionist.

"S-sorry, Mr. W-Winner," the girl said. "B-but there's s-someone out h-here w-who wants to t-talk to y-you." The girl stuttered through her whole sentence, and Quatre sighed inwardly. Useless employees...

"Alright," he said, this time a bit more gently. "Sent him in."

He sat on his cheer in a relaxed position, not really ready to see whatever shrewd businessman that was going to come in any minute. He was, however, surprised, when the person that came in wasn't a businessman, but an old friend.

"Trowa?" he asked in a surprised voice, getting up. The tall man walked into his office calmly and stood before his desk. He smiled slightly at Quatre, who gestured for him to take a seat, doing the same himself. "It's been a while. Why'd you come to see me?"

Trowa raised an eyebrow, and propped his chin up on his palm.

"Can't I come to see a friend?"

Quatre snorted and pursed his lips together.

"People don't just 'come' to do anything, my dearest Trowa."

The two men sat there in a strange silence, though it seemed somewhat fitting for the occasion. They looked at each other appraisingly, until Trowa finally decided to break the silence. He shifted, and leaned forward a bit towards his friend.

"You've changed, Quatre," he said.

Quatre laughed humourlessly. Grinning sickly, he tilted his head at Trowa.

"That I have," he said quietly. He tapped his fingernails against his cheek, and then sat forward as well.

"So tell me, why have you come?"

Trowa didn't answer. He merely continued to regard Quatre with a curious look. Soon, the blonde Arabian became annoyed with this and snapped out at him.

"Tell me!"

Trowa sat silently for a moment, then nodded, as if to himself. He stood up, and leaned across the desk towards Quatre.

"You are coming with me," he said, before pulling Quatre around the desk.

"Wha-"

"You need a break," Trowa said simply. He towed the struggling and cursing blonde out of the door with surprising strength, and led him towards the elevators. Workers stopped half-way through their work to see what the commotion was about, but didn't interrupt when Trowa sent all of them a withering look. Quatre cursed even more, trying to wrench his arm from his friend's grip. Trowa never let go, however, and towed him all the way out of the building and to his car.

Trowa tucked his angry friend into the passenger seat and got in to the other side. He pulled on his seat belt smoothly and started the ignition, glancing at Quatre from the side. The blonde scowled darkly at him and crossed his arms, not showing any signs of cooperation.

"Put on your seat belt," Trowa said in a deadly voice. Scowling even further, Quatre did as he was told, not that he liked it.

Trowa sped through the city, and was on the highway in mere minutes. He calmly drove with one hand, as the other tuned the radio. Nodding as he came upon a rock station, he started nodding his head to the music, looking forward without even so much as a glance in Quatre's direction.

Quatre stared out his own window, scowling deeply, but inside, he was sort of becoming curious. He'd never known Trowa for his spontaneity, but they haven't seen each other in three years, so he wouldn't know. But his friend did seem a bit more relaxed in general; maybe now, he could show his real personality.

"Where are we going?" Quatre snapped, though not meaning to.

Trowa didn't answer him, but Quatre schooled his face to not let anything through. He leaned back in the seat, sighing as the drug took effect. Blinking sleepily, he relaxed a bit - more then he would've at the office anyway. There was probably something wrong with taking these drugs every single day. Quatre knew that there must be, but he just couldn't help it; these painkillers were the only thing that kept him from going crazy in that asylum.

"Is something wrong, my little one?" Trowa asked softly, using his old nickname for his smaller friend.

Quatre snapped his eyes opened, and tensed back up, glaring at nothing in particular.

"Oh no," he said bitterly, "there's nothing wrong. My life's perfect; I've got money, and a successful business. What else could I ask for?" He scowled out the window and crossed his arms again.

"Money and success isn't everything," Trowa said in his quiet way. Quatre sighed, rubbing his temples, and looked over to his friends.

"How much I wish my sisters will believe that," he said with resentment. Looking away again, he bit his lower lip and frowned, thinking dark thoughts.

"Then maybe your sisters aren't really your family."

Quatre snapped his head around to look at Trowa incredulously. What the hell was he trying to say?

"I mean," the tall brunette improvised, "that maybe what you really need are people who care about you. Those sisters of yours aren't doing that, are they?"

Quatre just frowned and looked down at his lap, contemplating it. Maybe it was true.. Maybe he did need someone to care about it.. But these years of neglect had turned him into a hard and harsh businessman; surely nobody would care about him now!

"I've got you guys," he finally said softly, in an uncertain voice. He closed his eyes, and sighed, letting out all his pent-up frustration. "I'm sorry, Trowa," he said in a voice closer to his former warm tones, "I just really don't know who I am anymore."

Trowa nodded in understanding, and placed a hand on Quatre's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

"We will help you," he said simply. Quatre bit his lip and turned his head away, eyes half closed to stop the tears that were threatening to spill. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes entirely. He was so, so tired...

* * *

Duo bustled around the room nervously, primping the flowers and flatting non-existent wrinkles on the tablecloth. Heero watched with a raised eyebrow as he lounged comfortably on the shorter couch.

"What," he asked, "are you doing?"

Duo glared at him, and returned to his fretting, almost as if he was ignoring the Japanese man.

"I, for one," he began in a patronizing tone, "do not want Quatre to see this house messy and disorganized!"

Wufei snorted from where he was, coming down the stairs, and joined the amused Heero in the living room.

"Excuse me, Maxwell," he said dryly, "but you seem to be the one who makes the biggest mess of us four."

Duo glared at him, but they could see a tinge of red on his cheeks. He continued moving around nervously in the house, as the other two watched in a bemused way.

"It's just Quatre," Heero said, "why are you being so... girlie?"

This time, Duo did get angry. He stomped into the living room, eyes blazing, standing before Heero with an annoyed expression.

"Oh no," Wufei muttered, smirking slightly. "Now you've got him mad, Yuy."

Heero smirked back at him, and looked towards Duo, who was huffing indignantly. He looked up to the braided man with an innocent look, and almost burst out in laughter as Duo practically blew up from pent-up air. He snickered with Wufei and continued watching Duo bustle around the already clean house.

"I can't believe you two are making a joke out of this," Duo said, in an irritated voice. "We haven't seen him for years, and you act as if you don't care at all!"

"But we do," Wufei interjected. "We are excited to see him, but we know that there's no use bustling about, wasting energy like you. We'll just wait patiently, as it is all we can do."

Duo huffed again, and hurried out of the living room, straightening photo frames.

"Well, I can't do that. I'm excited and damned proud of it!"

Wufei and Heero glanced at each other and sighed in unison. They knew that Duo was excited, naturally; he'd been talking about it non-stop since Trowa had gone to retrieve their friend.

"Oh, sit down, Duo," Wufei said snappishly. "When Quatre gets here, you'll be all sweaty and unfit to see anybody. So stop before we make you!"

Duo stomped back into the room and collapsed on the couch beside Wufei. Wufei moved over, giving the pouting American some room, and relaxed like Heero was doing.

"Now that's better," Heero said, almost smiling. He saw Duo grimace at him, and the corner of his lips pulled up a bit.

"What are you afraid of, Duo?" Wufei asked, ever observant.

Duo sighed, and rolled over to face the tv.

"It's just that..." he began slowly. "It's just that he's all rich and famous now... He's so different from before. I'm just afraid that he's all changed."

Heero sat up and looked at his friend.

"He's the same Quatre that we all knew and loved. No matter how much time has passed, he'll always be the same person inside."

Duo sighed and closed his eyes tiredly.

"If only I had your faith."

* * *

Quatre got out of Trowa's car, and stood on the driveway, observing the large house. There was one car parked at the curb, and the garage was big enough for two. He sighed slightly when he saw signs of all the other pilots; this was just great. He'll have to spend more time with some people that he hadn't seen for a very, very long time. Not to mention whatever friends they had.

Suddenly, Quatre caught side of a long braid flying out from the doorway. Quatre took a step back, and scowled deeply.

"No. Way."

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(TBC)