24-Jun-2001
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters. They
are the property of Bandai, Sunrise, and Sotsu Agency. All original
characters appearing in this fic are of my own creation. The title
is 'borrowed' from a very lovely Doors song by the same name. This is
not a songfic but the lyrics may appear somewhere in the story.
Ratings: PG for now but as the fic progresses it will get NC-17
Pairings: 1 + 2 for now. Other pairings in later chapters.
Warnings: An implied m/m relationship this chapter.
Response, C+C, feedback, or whatever else you may want to call it,
is welcomed and highly prized.
Note: This is my first completely AU fic and characters will be OOC when
it's necessary for the plot.
It was his last night of freedom and he was spending it packing. It was amazing how this last year of his life could fit neatly into one trunk. Trowa Barton looked around to see if he had missed anything, then closed the trunk and locked it. He was going to miss the small room he had called home. Tomorrow he would be leaving behind all the unfulfilled dreams the room had absorbed over the years, including his own. Maybe the next tenant would be the one lucky enough to make them come true.
He left the boarding house and began to walk towards the small bistro a few blocks away.
The wind blew sharp and cold through his thin coat, making the walk difficult and most unpleasant. He'd bundled himself as best he could but the thin scarf and even thinner coat weren't much help.
Being cold was one thing he would not miss.
He glanced through the window as he opened the door and entered. The place was smoky and crowded. The air loud with boisterous talk and laughter as everyone drank their cares away.
"Trowa, you scoundrel! I was hoping you'd come and tell me goodbye," a small dark flash squealed as she leaped on him, kissing him hard on the mouth.
He grinned as he pulled her off and held her at arms' length, "I couldn't leave without doing that, now could I?"
"Not if you know what is good for you!" she laughed, her dark eyes twinkling with mirth, "your friends are here as well. Go join them and I'll bring you something to drink."
"Thank you, Hilde. And I will really miss you, you know," his green eyes sparkled as they began to mist, "you've been more than just a friend, you've been like family."
"Bah! It is my potato and onion soup you will miss, I think!" she chided, "now go sit with your friends."
"If you have any made, would you bring me some of that soup, and some bread? I haven't eaten yet and I'm starved!"
"Of course, cherie. No wonder you are so skinny, eating only once a day."
"Why do you think we're called 'starving' artists?" he laughed.
"I can't believe you're actually going through with it," Heero Yui said as he sipped his beer, "it's not going to be the same without you."
"Yeah! How can we be the Unholy Trinity, if there's only going to be two of us now?" Duo Maxwell sighed unhappily, a frown replacing his usual lopsided grin.
He motioned to the waiter to bring them another round.
"You'll just have to change it to the Unholy Pair, I guess," Trowa grinned weakly, "I don't want to leave either but I don't have a choice. You know how my stepfather is."
"It's just not fair!" Duo complained, "he set you up to fail, you know. Just so he could get his own way, the bastard!"
"He's not really a bastard and I'm sorry if I've given you that impression of him," Trowa sighed, "he's been very good about taking care of my sister and me, ever since my mother died."
"I think Duo's right. He knew you couldn't possibly live up to the conditions he made you agree to."
"Maybe so," Trowa agreed, "but he could have just said no and not let me attend the school, and he did pay for the tuition."
"But you never sold a painting, and he knew you wouldn't. How could you? He may have paid for your tuition, but you had to work to cover your expenses. He knew there was no way you could afford to live and buy decent paints and supplies. When was the last time you even had the extra money for a canvas?" Heero pointedly commented.
"All you have are charcoal sketches," Duo added, "and a few small watercolors."
"And the point the two of you are trying to make is?" Trowa grinned.
"He wants you to live the life he has planned for you and not the life you want," Heero said bluntly.
"Just like every other parent. So again I ask, what is the point you two are trying to make?"
"You don't have to go back. Stay here where you're happy. You've proven you can survive without his money," Heero said, "just like Duo and I have learned to make it on our own since our families disowned us."
"I only wish I could get disinherited," Triton mumbled, "it would make everything so damned much easier."
He stared into his half full mug, then picked it up and downed the contents in one gulp. He gestured for another one, tossed it down and gestured again. His two friends sat and watched, puzzling over what he'd meant.
After his fifth beer in a row, Trowa staggered to his feet, "Goodnight, I'm going back to my room. You will be there to see me off when I leave tomorrow?"
"Uh, Tro – maybe we should walk you back, you look a little unsteady," Duo offered.
"I'm all right, I just got up too fast. Again, g'night and we'll save the goodbyes for tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Tro. We'll be there."
He walked to the bar, giving Hilde a hug, then walked out into the cold night air, adjusting his coat and his scarf for maximum warmth.
As he walked back to his room, the hairs on the back of his neck bristled. An eerie tingle coursed through him, like he could sense he was being watched. He brushed the idea from his mind, attributing the feeling to those last few beers he drank too quickly and continued on his way.
"What do you think he meant by he wished he could get disinherited?" Heero asked.
"Well, unlike us, he's the only male heir in his family. He probably thinks that no matter what he does, they won't turn their backs on him," Duo sighed, "you know I kind of envy him that."
"Duo, do ever regret the choice you made?"
"Never... what about you?"
"No regrets, ever... come on, let's go home. It's getting late and we do want to see him off tomorrow."
"I'm going to really miss him, you know," Duo sighed.
"Me too, he's been a true friend," Heero said.
The feeling of being watched turned into a fear of being followed as footsteps coming from behind became audible. Trowa quickened his pace and began walking faster. The footsteps sped up as well.
He had no money and anyone who lived in the area knew that, so what did they want? Should he turn around and face them, or run like hell? What if they were armed? He had nothing on him he could use to defend himself, so he started running. The footsteps did too.
There was a crowd in front of the small boarding house as Heero and Duo arrived and began walking upstairs to Trowa's room.
"Looks like the whole neighborhood is here to see him off," Duo grinned.
"I think most of them are here out of curiosity. It's not every day they see a carriage like that around here." Heero remarked, "from the looks of it, Trowa's stepfather is a lot richer than what he said."
"FIND HIM, AND DON'T COME BACK UNTIL YOU DO!" they heard the yells coming from Trowa's room as they were about to knock.
The door suddenly swung open and a gray haired man pushed his way through them, walking towards the stairs.
"Who the hell are you?" the man behind the yelling voice growled as he came into their view.
"We're friends of Trowa's," Duo answered.
"What's going on?" Heero asked, "are you Trowa's stepfather?"
Heero began looking the man over, he didn't appear to be much older than they.
"Do you know where he is?" the man asked, "his things are packed but it looks like his bed hasn't been slept in and no one seems to have seen him since last night."
"Something's wrong," Heero said, "he was with us last night but when he left he said he was coming back here. Come on Duo, let's go see if we can find him."
"Wait! I'll come with you," the man said, grabbing his coat.
They walked to the bistro, the last place Trowa had been seen. They were going to retrace what should have been his route from there to the boarding house.
"Before we start looking, I think we should talk," the man said, "first off, his name is Triton Bloom, not Trowa Barton, and I am not his stepfather."
"Then who are you?" Duo asked.
"My name is Treize Khushrenada. I'm Mr. Bloom's lawyer, and you?"
"Like we said, we are friends of his. I'm Duo Maxwell. He's Heero Yui."
"Yes, I know who you are now, Triton's mentioned you in his letters. Please, if you are the kind of friends he claims you are, tell me where he is. It's extremely important he returns home."
"Mr. Khushrenada, if he were planning on disappearing, he didn't tell us. He seemed to be at terms with going home, even though he didn't want to," Heero said, "something must have happened to him between the bistro and the boarding house."
"That's what I'm afraid of, and please, call me Treize. Khushrenada can be a mouthful after a while," the lawyer said, "just what did Triton tell you about himself?"
"Well, he said his name was Trowa Barton. His father had died when he and his sister were small and his mother remarried, but she died about three years ago. He said his stepfather was stern but treated him fairly and had agreed to let him spend one year away from home. Trowa wants to be an artist, and wanted to see if he could find success as one. He and his stepfather made an agreement, he could come here and study art which his stepfather would pay for. But Trowa also had to work to support himself, to teach him what it's like to be on his own. He had to sell at least one painting within that year, in order to stay. If he didn't, he had to return home and learn his stepfather's business. He is his stepfather's heir since he had no children of his own. The year was now up and he never sold anything. He was returning home today," Heero took a deep breath, he wasn't used to talking so much at one time.
Treize chuckled, "well at least he stuck with the history we made up. He never told you anything different?"
"No," Duo shook his head, "but he did say something odd last night. He said, he wished he could get disinherited, it would make everything easier. We just figured he said that since he's the only male heir and his stepfather is adamant about leaving the business to him and not his sister."
"Wait a minute," Heero butt in, "what was that you said about making up his history?"
"As I said earlier, his name is Triton Bloom and he is not the heir to a small fortune, he is the owner of a vast fortune and has been since both his parents died five years ago. His great-uncle is the executor and trustee of the estate until Triton's twenty-first birthday."
"And he's getting ready to turn twenty-one?" Duo asked.
"No, he's only nineteen. Everyone at home thinks that he's dead and he needs to come home to prove them wrong. I should never have allowed him to do this. He's supposed to be attending university at Cambridge, not some small humanities college in Paris. The young man attending Cambridge in his place was killed in an accident, he was thrown from the horse he was riding. The body is being shipped to Triton's home in Brazil and I need him to return there to prove he's alive."
"Let's finish talking as we start our search," Heero said, "maybe that accident was no accident. And maybe the person responsible knows that wasn't the real Trowa at Cambridge, I mean Triton."
"That's what I'm afraid of. I've got Howard and his men combing the streets right now. He's the man that pushed past you as you arrived."
They'd already walked Trowa's usual route twice, stopping people that knew him and questioning the shop owners along the way. No one had seen or heard anything the night before.
"It was kind of late when he left the bistro, and it was pretty cold, too. Most people were probably inside, staying warm or retiring for the night," Heero conjectured. "We live the opposite way, so we didn't see or hear anything either. We should have walked him home like we offered. He, uh, had a little too much to drink last night."
"That's it! Come on! He might have wandered into one of the alleys!" Duo said excitedly, "I'll bet he's nursing one hell of a hangover right now, he doesn't usually drink like he did last night," that last comment was made for Treize's benefit.
They began searching the alleys but all they were finding were empty crates, cats, the occasional dead rat and garbage . . . a lot of garbage.
"Geesh, no wonder no one uses the alleys as shortcuts," Duo remarked, holding his nose, "this smells terrible. If Trowa wandered back here and passed out, the stench surely would have not only woke him up, but sobered him up before now."
"Duo! Treize! Come here! I've found something," Heero said, his tone was grim, "look," he said as he squatted down, pointing a finger.
The other two men walked over, stood behind him and looked to the spot where his finger indicated.
"Oh damn!" Duo exclaimed, "I'm afraid you might be right, Heero."
"I hope not," Heero said, "but this doesn't look good at all."
"No it doesn't and I don't know what to tell his great-uncle," Treize shook his head and bent down to pick up the thin scarf that had circled Trowa's neck the night before.
"Wait! Don't touch it," Duo yelled, "look . . .", he pointed to the small pool of half-clotted blood that lay underneath the scarf, then to the drops of dried blood that trailed down the alleyway and abruptly stopped.
"This was not a mugging, and he's not dead. Otherwise his body would be laying there, not just his scarf," Heero said, "Mr. Khushrenada, who benefits the most if Trowa is dead, or declared dead?"
"His sister Catherine... my wife," Treize answered solemnly.
TBC
KwyckSylver
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