Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Dear Cathy ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

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Dear Cathy

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing but I do own the twins Kristoff and Tristine. The series and the characters belong to Sunrise, Sotsu Agency, and the wonderful director Masahi Ikeda. Am I missing anyone?

Summary: AC 202. While their circus is on tour in the colonies, Catherine and Trowa receive a visit from Cathy's aunt, but she's not alone. With a new responsibility, Catherine and Trowa learn more about the thing called family.

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Chapter 1

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Ding, Ding, Ding…

Catherine put her magazine down on the coffee table and quickly shuffled into the small kitchen, pulling her jacket tightly around her to ward off the cold air. With furrowed brows she uncovered a steaming pot of curry and then reached over it to switch off the stove alarm. She looked up to the window at her side and her brows furrowed even more.

“Winter has barely started and snow has already begun to fall here. These colonists just can`t get enough of their weather systems…If only this rickety trailer could provide better heating…” she muttered to herself while sliding the pot to the cooling zone of the stove.

She slid her slippered feet across the floor to a set of cupboards closest to the frosted trailer window, giving the snow another heated glance, and opened them to pull out two sets of plates and cups. She proceeded to open the dishwasher right beneath it and reached in to pluck out two sets of silverware. Having done so, she quickly made her way to the small round table in the assigned living room area of the trailer and set the table at an equally fast pace. A deep tapping noise from the door caught her attention and she turned and smiled as her surrogate brother opened the door, still tapping his shoes of lingering snow on the stairs.

“You're back in time for dinner! How was everything, is Macy okay?” she asked. She helped him out of his jacket and gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Trowa couldn't help but give just a small smile back. “She`s fine. Harold said that he would go and speak with the colony tech to see if they can lessen the snow for a while, just until our performances here are over.” He made his way into the kitchen and helped himself to a sip of the warm curry. Catherine snatched the ladle from his grasp and gave him an annoyed look.

“Go make yourself useful and put some rice on the table. And get me a container to put this in,” she said, shooing him away. Trowa gave her a small mischievous smile and went off to do his assigned task. As soon as he brought a plate of steaming rice onto the table a knock was heard on the door and the sound of Harold`s voice was heard calling Catherine and Trowa's names. Catherine peeked her head out of the kitchen and motioned for Trowa to get it. He gave a mock annoyed sigh and went to answer the door. When he opened it, he was slightly pushed aside by the shivering circus manager who couldn't wait to get into what little heat the trailer provided. He gave Trowa a nod and proceeded to give his little report.

“I've talked to the head of the colony tech and he said he would stop the snow until after our last performance. He'll even let the artificial sun of his give off a little more heat than necessary for winter so we don't snap our frozen joints.”

Before Trowa could respond, Harold looked around and continued talking. “Where's Catherine? I have urgent news,” he said. Harold walked to the kitchen when he heard Cathy calling from within, his boots still on and covered in snow. Trowa frowned as the carpeted floor absorbed the wetness from the fallen snow. He followed the man into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame while listening in on the conversation.

“Catherine,” the man started, “I just received a call today from a woman named Margaret Serrano. She said she was looking for you and wanted to talk to you as soon as possible. I have her number in case you wanted it.”

Catherine put down the bowl of curry she was holding and turned to stare at Harold. He fidgeted awkwardly under her gaze and looked down at the bowl, seeing as how there was nothing else interesting to look at in the tiny kitchen.

“Did you say her name was Serrano?” Catherine questioned. Without waiting for an answer, she picked the bowl up and turned, handing it to Trowa who took it to the table. She washed her hands and after drying them, she picked out another set of dishes and utensils and motioned for Harold to follow her to the table. After setting the new place at the table she sat and motioned for Harold to sit as well. Trowa was already seated and currently helping himself to the steaming foods. Usually Catherine would chastise him for doing so but she was too overwhelmed by other things, mainly her confused thoughts.

Catherine let Harold serve himself first, all the while staring down at her plate. Serrano, Serrano. Where have I heard of it before? she wondered when she felt a nudge at her foot. She looked up at Trowa who had stopped eating and was giving her a worried look. She gave him a smile and shook her head, helping herself to the food.

“As I was saying,” Harold said, “I have her number if you're interested in talking with her. She was in quite a hurry so I couldn't really get any more information out of her.”

Catherine nodded and the three ate in silence with Harold quickly finishing his meal, Catherine in deep thought about the name that only tugged at strings in her memory, and Trowa who quietly worried about his sister's sudden change of mood. He knew not to say anything. They would probably talk later if she felt like it.

When Harold finished his meal, he stood and reached into his pocket, bringing out a small slip of paper. “Here's her number. I better excuse myself now since I still have things to attend to before sleeping. If you need any assistance, please come to me.” He pushed his chair in, took his dishes to the kitchen sink, then bid them both good night and left quietly. All through his actions Catherine did not once look at the slip of paper. When the door finally shut with a soft click she reached to the paper and unfolded it, reading its contents with a confused look on her face. Trowa took this time to excuse himself, taking both their dirty dishes and taking them into the kitchen to be washed. He turned on the tap, added soap to the small sponge and proceeded with scrubbing the dishes clean when he heard a choked noise. He cut the water off and slightly turned his head toward the outside of the kitchen the little dining area was. The choked noise came again and Trowa recognized it as a sob. He dried his hands and stole a peek at his sister who now sat hunched over the table, the note crumpled in one hand while another hand covered her tear-stained face. He hesitantly made his way to her side and without touching her he sat and stared down at his hands on his lap, unsure of what to do next. Maybe I should have left her alone, he thought when he heard his name being mumbled. He looked up and Catherine was staring at him, her tears cleaned from her face and a confused look still on her face.

“Trowa…” she whispered and reached for his hand. He took hers and gave it a small squeeze, marveling at how tough her hands felt though her skin was still a little smooth.

“Do you need something Cathy?” he whispered back, unsure of what else he could possibly say. He had no idea of the situation and even if he did, he doubted he could offer any words of comfort.

Catherine gave a defeated sigh and gently took her hand from his. She lay the wrinkled note on the table and began to smooth it out with small circular motions as she spoke in an equally smooth whisper. “This woman, this Margaret Serrano. It's her. It`s really her.”

Trowa gave her a questioning look at the cryptic reply. “Her? As in…” As in what, he could only wonder. He tried to pick out something else to say but Catherine interrupted his musings with another whispered reply.

“I remember the name Serrano from somewhere. I last heard it when I was a little girl, a really young girl, maybe four or five, I don't remember how old I was. But I know, the name, Serrano…”

At this point she bent over and placed her face in the palms of her hands, a few hot tears spilling down her cheeks once again. Through choked sobs she continued, “I was picked up by this circus when I was a little girl and she found me there. She was my aunt, the one my family and I were supposed to stay with. But…” she choked and could only continue in a raspy whisper. “They were dead, my family, and when she heard this…She said she couldn't take me in because she didn't have enough funds to support the both of us. She was already helping someone else.”

Catherine's tears began to subside at this point and she wiped away what she could. Trowa continued to listen intently, only able to offer his quiet attention. He pulled on the bottom of his sleeve, grasping it in his hand, and reached up to wipe away the rest of the tears on his sister's cheek, like a small child who didn't know how to offer any other sort of comfort. Catherine gave a sad smile and sniffed. She rarely cried but when she did, it was usually about her past, or at least what little she could remember of it.

“My family…I miss them so much. I can barely remember my parent's faces, and my brother's face too…He was still a baby.” She sighed and sniffed again. Slowly she stood and reached to pick up the bowl of leftover curry but Trowa got to it first. He took it to the kitchen and covered it quickly with a paper towel, wanting to be with Catherine in her time of need. When he came to the table she was still standing there, now looking down at the sheet.

“Why don't you give her a call? She obviously has something important to say if she tracked you all the way to the colonies.” He wasn`t quite sure if what he said was the right thing to say but judging by the slightly happier smile that Catherine gave him, it was as close to the right thing if not exactly the right thing.

“I think I should. It's really her, I know it. And if she called then maybe…” her words trailed off and she pushed her chair in. Pulling her jacket around herself she turned to Trowa who still stood at the door. “I need to go to bed now. It's getting late. We still have to prepare for tomorrow's noon performance. You better get some sleep too, okay?”

With that said she went to Trowa, gave him a peck on the cheek, offered a soft good night, and then retreated into her room. Trowa stood there for a while longer, thinking of the night's events. He sighed and slipped back into the kitchen to wash the dishes and after doing so, he switched off all the lights, put on his jacket and then stole out of the trailer to head for the smaller one nearby, the one he designated as his house and not necessarily his home.

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It's been two days since I called.

Hello?

Cathy…Cathy…How are you? You`re doing okay? I haven't seen you in so long. You've grown so much.

I remember her face on the video-phone screen. She looked older, much older than before. Then again, it'd been years since I last saw her. Almost two entire decades. I clutched the phone more tightly in my hand at the thought. I shouldn't think in decades because then it sounds like it's been forever. But yes, she looked older, though, in the past almost twenty years, it seems I'm the one who's grown the oldest.

I'm doing fine Auntie. And yes, I believe I've grown a bit since you last saw me.

A bit I say. It's under exaggerating to only say `a bit.' As if I hadn't changed much over all the long-drawn years. I almost cry as I begin to remember but I know I shouldn't. It wouldn't help. I should be happy, ecstatic even, to see her again. The only blood relative that I have left.

How long will you be staying where you are?

Only four more days. Why?

She wants to visit me. She wants to see exactly how much growing up I've done. She wants to know what life her little Catherine now leads. I told her that I'm still working at the circus she found me in all those years ago. She smiles a smile that reminds me of my father, of what I can remember, only hers filled is with sorrow.

I have a request of you so please hear me out.

Umm, all right. What is it?

I can only freeze up. I can only stare into her drooping, sorrow-filled brown eyes. She's going to cry. I realize that I'm going to cry too. I look around, to make sure no one is there watching, listening on our conversation. I turn back to her and nod. I can only nod, I can only accept it. I want to see her, and if she's going to bring what she wishes to bring, I can only accept it. It's a gift. I have to take it.

Okay. If you need me to. I will.

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Knock, knock, knock…!

“Trowa! Get the door please!” came the muffled reply from the bathroom.

Trowa put down the book he was reading and stood from the couch. It had been a few days since Cathy got the call from her aunt and two days since she herself called her aunt back. Trowa never saw this aunt's face or heard this aunt's voice, but he knew that Cathy said something about him. She must have, she always told people about her 'little brother.' He snorted at the thought of being her little brother, considering he was so much taller than her. As he made his way to the door, the knocking increased in both speed and sound. He wasn't usually upset by such signs of impatience but right now he couldn't help but frown. It couldn't possibly be too cold outside. Nothing that any normally healthy person could stand in for a few seconds.. The colony tech shouldn't have changed the weather controls today. It was supposed to stay comfortably chilly until tomorrow night when the circus would leave for the L7 colonies.

“What's the rush?” he couldn't help but mutter and opened the door with a sharp tug. He was met face-to-face with an old, brown-eyed, brown-haired, brown-clad woman. The few inches of pure white snow on the ground made her look even more drab than she probably wanted to appear as. From where she stood on the trailer stairs, Trowa could see that the top of her head reached his shoulder, meaning she was probably around his height. The only thing she had in her hands was the handle of a small traveling bag that sat tipped in the snow behind her.

“Does Catherine Bloom live here?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously. Trowa could sense a hint of hostility from her but he didn't say anything. He only nodded and stepped aside, widening the door to let the woman in. Instead of immediately walking into the warmth of the trailer she turned to the side and motioned with her arm for…something…to come.

“Kristoff, Tristine! Get inside!” her voice called. Trowa didn't need to peek outside because in a matter of a few seconds two children only reaching up to his waist came bounding next to the woman standing at the door. He stepped back and was about to welcome them into the trailer when the woman turned to him and without holding out a hand, introduced herself.

“I am Margaret Serrano, Cathy's aunt,” she said and Trowa noted her use of Catherine's nickname that he himself tended to call her. He once again nodded and was finally able to motion her inside, introducing himself only by his first name.

She ushered the two small children up the steps and into the trailer. They both looked at Trowa with curiosity in their eyes. Green eyes. Their eyes were almost exactly like his, only a little lighter and much bigger, but the size was probably due to their being of a much younger age than him. How old, he wasn't sure, since Catherine never mentioned anything about children coming to visit as well. He gave them both a nod as a greeting and turned to the direction of the bathroom where the auburn-haired woman walked out, still toweling her hair from her after performance shower. She gave her thanks to Trowa, who retreated back to the couch and his book, and turned to face her aunt, a woman she hadn't seen in

Two decades. Almost two decades.

“Aunt Margie,” she whispered. The woman smiled a kind smile and pulled Catherine to her for a tight hug. Neither of them shed tears but the awed feeling of seeing someone not seen in so long could be clearly felt. After a few moments the woman named Margaret pulled away from Catherine and smoothed her cheek with a wrinkled but firm hand, whispering Cathy, Cathy again and again in a sweet tone.

“It's been such a long time. You've grown so much!“ she exclaimed, though it was obvious that she was still slightly taller than Catherine. She took her hand back and looked down with a smile still on her face. “So much like her…” she whispered. Catherine was about to ask her to repeat what she said but the old woman only took her hand, squeezed it, and then turned to the two children who stood huddled near the window by the door. “Here Catherine, come say hello to your little cousins.”

Cousins? Trowa wondered as he shifted in his seat. He looked up from his book, not having turned the page since he opened to door. They're her cousins? That woman seems too old to have had children that young…

“Oh yes,” Catherine said softly, “hello. You two must be the twins, yes? Kristoff and Tristine?”

The two children just stared at her. They looked from Catherine to Margaret and then back to Catherine again. The girl held on tightly to her brother's arm but kept a wary eye on Catherine. They were obviously tired from their flight from the L4 colony clusters.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. They only understand Italian. L4-K28441 is mainly an Italian colony,” Margaret said. She motioned for the two to come closer and whispered calming words to them. It seem to work because they stepped to her side, right in front of Cathy. Margaret drew the boy to her other side and put her arms around both their shoulders. “You know a little Italian, right?”

Catherine shook her head. “I only remember basic things. I haven't spoken it in so long.” She turned around and motioned for Trowa to come to her side. “I almost forgot,” she said and turned back to Margaret as Trowa came up to her side, “this is Trowa Barton. I'm sure he's introduced himself, yes?” She gave Trowa a pointed look and he nodded. Satisfied with his response she turned back to her aunt. “He joined the circus seven years ago, but I'm sure he'll be leaving soon.” At this she gave a small laugh.

Margaret gave Trowa another suspicious look, eyeing him up and down. Trowa ignored the looks she was giving him and instead turned to the children at her sides. “It's nice to meet you two,” he said softly in almost perfect Italian. The two perked up and smiled at their now kindred spirit. They nodded their heads while rattling off their introductions to him.

“We're eight,” the boy said a bit too happily. “Tri-tri and I traveled far to meet Cathy but Auntie said she might not know how to talk to us, so we got worried.”

The girl poked him behind their aunt's back and gave him an annoyed look. “You talk too much, Kris.”

Kristoff only stuck out his tongue at her and she returned it with her own pink-tongued retort.

Catherine smiled. “Well, I'm glad I still remember a little. Or else Trowa would be the only one able to talk to them while they're here.”

Trowa looked up at Catherine from his kneeling position in front of the twins who had gladly approached him and asked, “they`re staying with us?”

Margaret shook her head. “Cathy, you didn't tell him? You really only changed physically I can tell…”

Catherine made a face. “I was going to tell him. It's not like they'll be staying with him anyway. He's only here because he's supposed to be making dinner.” She gave him another pointed look and he stood and quickly made his way to the kitchen, but not before each twin latched onto either of his hands. He stopped and looked down at both of them, noticing the mirth in their eyes, and then led them both into the small kitchen to help in making dinner.

Margaret watched as the three moved around inside the kitchen, Italian being prattled off by two loud voices and one much softer voice. “Cathy…” she turned to the girl and gave her a serious look. “You'll be okay with taking care of them now, right? Just until I can settle everything with their brother at least.”

“Of course, of course! I already talked to Harold, you know, the manager, and he said as long as they didn't interfere with performances then they'd be fine here. Trowa and I can take care of them, don't worry Auntie.” Catherine led her Aunt to the couch where they could sit and talk more comfortably. It didn't seem that Margaret would get anymore comfortable though as she eyed the kitchen. Catherine noticed the unease in her Aunt and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don't worry. He's a very kind person and he'll help to take care of them. Plus, he can speak and understand more Italian than I ever hope to.”

Margaret's eyes remained at the kitchen entrance as she replied. “It's not that I don't trust him. It's just…he seems…he looks a lot like…” she trailed off and shook her head. Turning to Cathy with tired brown eyes she whispered softly, “doesn't he look like…your father? You remember him, right? For some reason, this boy reminds me a lot of him.”

It was now Catherine's turn to look up at the kitchen entrance where Tristine and Kristoff were walking away from, each holding two sets of plates and utensils. They gingerly set the table and when finished they raced back into the kitchen to see if they could help their new friend in any other way, giggling all the while.

“I don't remember my father that much,” Catherine whispered, swallowing hard, “but something about Trowa…I call him my brother. Everyone thinks we`re really siblings now.”

“You want him to be Triton?” Margaret suggested calmly after a slight pause.

Catherine hesitated and then nodded slowly. The twins bounded out of the kitchen again, placing two glass cups on the coffee table in front of the women and poured them a glass of cool water. Catherine thanked them both and smiled as they hurried back into the kitchen. “I want so badly for him to be Triton. But he's not. It wouldn't be possible,” she sighed, “it's alright though because he'll be the closing thing to my brother…to Triton. He always will be.”

Margaret nodded while taking a sip of the refreshing water. She waited for a few moments and then spoke once more, switching the subject. “If you can't care for them, I'll take them with me. I don't want to overburden you.”

Catherine shook her head and replied, “I already told you, I'll care for them. They're so young and they need to get used to other people in their family. I mean, other than you and their brother. Just go and settle their adoption. Jeremi is willing to adopt them, right?”

“Yes. We just need to sort out a few things. When I come back, I'll be taking them straight to him. I'm much too old to be raising a pair of eight year olds. I already had a hand in raising twins with their father and yours.” Margaret finished off her glass of water and poured herself more, noticing that Catherine never took a sip out of hers. The young woman just sat there, thinking about everything spoken and unspoken.

The clatter of something being dropped in the kitchen echoed in the silence of the trailer. Giggling could be heard from the kitchen and Trowa's low voice chastised the two youngsters in the only language they understood. At this, Catherine took a gulp of water, smiling as she did so.

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End Chapter 1

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Preview for Chapter 2: The twins get their first taste of the circus and Trowa learns more about their family, as well as Catherine's.

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Author's note: Just to let everyone know, I started writing this story because 1) it was playing on my mind for quite some time, 2) I love Trowa, Catherine and GW in general and 3) I had no internet connection so…what else to do? I haven't written a fanfic in oh, maybe about four years. Yes, it's been a while, so please excuse me if I'm doing a terrible job. It will get better, I promise. I hope you continue to read this story. Please review if you have the time! Even if you don't, I'll still continue the story. Anyway, I hope to see you in the next chapter!

Oh and by the way, I won't be writing in any other language besides the one you'll be reading this in (English of course) because I don't want to post up translations and I don't want you looking around for them in case I'm too lazy to translate something. Some of the dialogue would've been French, Italian and gods know what else, but hey, it's not like we really know what language or languages is/are commonly spoken in this timeline. So I'm just sticking to English. See. I'm being nice to you all.

Also, for those who don't know this yet or understand, when the series says something like L3 or L# whatever, they mean the cluster in space that holds the colonies in. Look up LaGrange in Wikipedia or something to really understand what it is. L3 isn't a colony, it's an area that “houses” a group of colonies. So yeah, there's your GW lesson for today.

Oh, other note (hey, it's the first chapter, I'm allowed to do this). I, like many others, don't know the exact nationality of Catherine. I imagine she's European something but who knows. In this fanfic, she originated from Italian roots, meaning that she's not necessarily straight-up Italian. Same for Trowa. I like to think of him as mixed. And yes, I do believe they're siblings. But I'll talk about that some other time. Go and review!