24-Apr-2000
Hi all!
And here we have it. Chapter Four of True Enemies True Friends
Less than two hundred miles away in their hastily established safe house, Wufei watched the OZ television report with a grim sense of satisfaction. How terribly offended OZ would be to learn that all four Gundam pilots were still very much alive. How much more offended they would be if they knew that their erroneous report had provided the cover both he and Quatre needed in order to disappear from public view, at least for awhile.
The small cluster of tents provided shelter from the elements as well as the needed anonymity of blending in with the rest of the environment, but not very much else. The huge electricity generator that took up most of the space in the largest tent provided the necessary energy for their other needs - like the television, and the computer, the portable cooling unit in the day, and the portable heater in the night.
The extreme desert temperatures of L4 were quite enough to drive anyone insane, Wufei mused, just a little grumpily as he avoided the urge to fan himself with a magazine. Burning in the day. Freezing at night. It was a wonder Quatre grew up as sweet-tempered as he turned out to be considering the intolerable climate. But then again, after living in this kind of ridiculous climate, everything else - including enduring Duo Maxwell's endless chatter - would probably seem like a minor aggravation instead of a major catastrophe. Little wonder then Quatre seemed to float through life with sweet equanimity of the truly unflappable.
Until Trowa turned on them.
Quatre was still as unflappable, but his imperturbable calm was no longer driven by sweet equanimity. Instead, it seemed as though there was now a shard of chill indifference lodged in his heart; the very coldness of it overflowed into his eyes and into his voice. The Arabian pilot watched the same broadcast with empty eyes, utterly devoid of feeling as he once again bore witness to Heavyarm's cruel and unforgivable betrayal.
The safe house was uncomfortable, but comfort and luxury were far down on their list of concerns just then. "He's not on L3," Quatre reported calmly. "There's no sign of him in any of the safe houses he could have reached with his fuel supplies."
Wufei nodded, stifling a sigh. "We may have to face the fact that he may not be rational, Quatre."
"Or the fact that he has fled back to his OZ masters."
Black eyes hardened. "We have no proof of that."
"We know what we saw, Wufei."
"And we don't know what was going through his mind at that time," the Chinese pilot stubbornly stuck to his defense of Trowa.
Blue eyes locked on Wufei, angry... disbelieving that Wufei would continue to defend the one who had betrayed them. "Why are you defending him?" Quatre demanded tersely.
"Because no one else is," Wufei retorted. "Because he has been one of us for the past two years, and he deserves the benefit of the doubt. Because he loves you and he would never consciously or deliberately betray you."
Silence. Emotion flared back briefly into the blue eyes, illuminating the pain that had always been there, only too perfectly hidden.
Wufei prayed he would never see that look of stark pain and vulnerability on Quatre's face again. It made him feel as if he had hurt an innocent, callously trampled over the feelings of a young man hurting in love.
"Do you think so?" Quatre's voice was so very soft. Unsteady.
Wufei nodded, just once. He could not explain his confidence in Trowa. There was nothing to justify it, except his certain belief that Quatre was Trowa's very happiness... his very life...
Trowa would never willingly, consciously destroy his only comfort...
The relief of cool water upon his heated skin drew Trowa from his near delirium. Dazed green eyes drifted across the unfamiliar expanse of the small room, then finally focused on the face of the young girl by the bedside. She smiled down at him - the smile lighting her bright brown eyes. "Papa was worried about you," she said simply. She could not have been more than ten years old. Removing the towel from his forehead, she dipped it once again in the basin of cool water, wrung it out just a little before placing it back on his forehead.
He rolled his head away, a mute protest, then shifted, raising himself up on one elbow. Green eyes traveled around the room once more, trying to take everything in. "Where... " He had to stop to clear his throat - his voice husky from disuse. "Where am I?"
"L4," the little girl chirped. "My name is Katya, and this is papa's shop. He sells nice, cold beer to all the people to live out there in the town, even to those to live further out in tents. Papa says you came into his shop. Did you walk very far, mister? Where do you live, mister?"
He had walked very far indeed... The road down the mountain had led into the heart of the desert. He had trudged on like an automaton, one step after another, going on and on blindly. Mere chance had brought him through the wilderness into a small township bravely struggling against the consuming desert sands.
Chance, or his cruel fate to live on when he had lost everything worth living for.
L4... What could have possibly drawn him here? A subconscious desire to return to Quatre...? To return to the only real home he had ever had...?
Where do I live?
Nowhere. I have no home. Not any more.
A shadow moved to block the light streaming in from the doorway. "Ah, you're awake," the bartender smiled. There was a kindly gleam in the honest eyes. He was a good man, and Trowa sensed it almost immediately. "You feeling any
better?"Trowa inclined his head slightly, the gesture both of assent and thanks.
The man smiled, a genuinely happy smile. "You're welcomed to stay for as long as you need. There's not much else around here, nowhere really to go. How did you come by this way anyway?"
"I... I'm not sure. I don't really remember," he stammered. "I think I should be moving on... "
"Maybe you should rest just awhile longer. Heat stroke isn't something you can toss off in a matter of hours. Why don't you stay the night and see how things are in the morning?"
He hesitated, finally listening to the demands of his exhausted body. His body was too drained to keep giving. He had to rest; he had been just moments from collapse when he'd staggered into the bar. "I... thank you," he said simply, and the faint, rare smile curling at the edges of the young man's mouth was thanks enough for the bartender and his little girl Katya.
The bartender looked up as the door opened. A young man - Asian, his hair pulled back in a short, low ponytail, his dark eyes cool and unrevealing - entered the bar. "The owner of the general merchandise store across the road says you stock some of the best beers in town."
"Yes, I do," he smiled warmly. "A mug of chilled beer for you?"
"A whole keg please."
The bartender looked surprised, but then nodded and moved to the backroom where some kegs were stored. He checked in the young man who was tossing in restless slumber on the bed - his fever wasn't really going down; perhaps a doctor should be called in - then picked up one of the kegs and quickly returned out to the front counter where the Asian man was waiting, heaving it over the counter with a broad smile. "You must have lots of thirsty people at your place."
"Just two people who badly need to cool down," the young man smiled thinly.
"You must be new to the area," the bartender chatted on in his usual friendly manner despite the young man's distinct lack of friendliness. "I've never seen you around before."
"We just moved in - actually we're about two hundred miles out that way," the Asian man jerked his thumb in an indeterminate direction.
"At the tent city?" he looked amazed. "Not many people dare the desert that way."
No, not many, but then again, Quatre was a natural born desert brat. "I expect not," Wufei smiled, just a little grimly as he paid the bartender, then picked up the full key easily. "Thanks. We'll stop by again when we run out."
Trapped somewhere between waking and sleeping, Trowa whimpered softly. Mad... completely mad... he was going insane... losing his mind...
He could hear Wufei's voice as if from a distance... yet seemingly so near... Part dream... part reality...
Oh God, he was losing his mind...
End Part 4
(:./danyale/true4)
