Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Beauty And The Beast ❯ Part Four (Conclusion) ( Chapter 4 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Manga-Chick 
The ending...?
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / / Supernatural | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.20.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 6.5K | Visits: 400 | Status: Completed
The ending...?
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / / Supernatural | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.20.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 6.5K | Visits: 400 | Status: Completed
The Beauty and the Beast (Part Four)
Conclusion
Heero gave a low, impatient growl deep within his throat as Quatre fumbled with tying the string around the squirmy lizard’s shoulders. Reaching over, he held the lizard within both hands, and Quatre finished tying the string around it.
“There,” he said, letting the lizard fall to the dirt. It tried to scamper away, but was stopped short by the string that held it in place. “See? Your own little pet...”
“Wow! I would have never thought of that!” Quatre exclaimed, watching as the lizard tried to squirm out of its makeshift leash.
Heero stepped back as the blue-belly crawled over his shoes, and nearly scurried up Quatre’s leg. The blond bent, and picked up the live creature, careful to keep the string from choking it. It was tied in such a way that it looped around its front legs and shoulders–Heero didn’t want to kill the creature.
The pair of them were standing on Quatre’s front porch, where Heero had come over with the overly large creature and the piece of string. He hadn’t seen the blond boy since that day Trowa had beat him up, and his twelve-year-old curiosity in how the kid was doing made him ditch his usual friends in favor of visiting him.
Quatre’s babysitter, Noin, was sitting nearby, gabbing on her cellphone and looking at a magazine. Heero glanced over at her, noting that while she knew what they were doing, she really gave the kid too much freedom. He looked back at the seven year old, who was whimpering when the lizard clamped its mouth around his finger. With an annoyed roll of his eyes, Heero tugged the lizard away from him.
“Don’t let it bite you,” he growled. “What were you doing?”
“I was just petting it...”
“It’s not a dog, Quatre. It doesn’t want to be petted. It’s too scared to let you do that. Here. Hold it like this. I think it’s hungry. Let’s go look for some bugs.”
“All right.”
“And careful. Don’t choke it.”
“I won’t.”
Noin looked up from her magazine, smiling slightly as she watched the older boy boss Quatre around in a way that wasn’t threatening or mean–just filled with the impatience an older sibling had with a younger one. He had come over unexpectedly with the lizard, and Noin was happy that Quatre had a friend in the older kid. How he knew him, she didn’t know. Duo was under Trowa’s care, now, and hadn’t come over since that one day. She had a feeling that Trowa didn’t like coming outside all the time, but Duo didn’t seem to mind. She looked over at her charge and his new friend as they rummaged through the flowerbeds for something the lizard could munch on. The older boy was holding up what looked to be a cricket, and she winced as he ripped it in half and showed Quatre how to feed the lizard.
Little boys and their games, she thought with a shake of her head. She focused on the slim figures featured in her magazine, and lost herself in the fashion of today’s runways. When she looked up, the two were gone. She couldn’t even hear their voices. She rose from the chair, calling Quatre’s name. When there wasn’t a reply, she grew slightly panicked and hurried about, looking for him.
“Great,” she muttered, running into the backyard. They weren’t there, either. Panic began rising up within her. She didn’t know that other kid, nor his parents. For all she knew, he could have been the one that had beat him and Duo up the other day!
Getting very tense and angry, Noin intensified her search. That older kid may have lured Quatre off on the pretense of being friends, and was possibly doing something entirely bad–! She thought of young molesters and murderers and grew even more panicked. Kids these days were unpredictable!
“Quatre!!” she screamed.
“Miss Noin? What’s wrong?”
Noin sucked in a deep breath at the sound of his voice. His head popped out from his father’s upstairs study, where the balcony doors were wide open. The older kid looked over the railing with a puzzled expression.
Trying to calm down, Noin put her hand against her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun, and she peered up at both of them.
“What are you two doing?” she asked, glaring at the older kid.
“Looking for a jar.”
“You’re not going to find it in your father’s room, kid. Get out of there before he comes home and gets mad at you for being in there,” she ordered.
The two disappeared, the doors shutting behind them. How they had gotten inside, she didn’t know. But she sighed with relief, shoulders drooping as she headed around front, to walk inside.
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“Quatre,” she began, stirring the noodles that were thickly covered with tomato sauce. She was serving a late lunch, and the older kid had gone home in search of his own lunch. “Did your father ever talk to you about good touches and bad touches?”
At the table, where the blond child sat, coloring, Quatre snorted. “Miss Noin...if you are asking if dad ever talked to me about molestation and inappropriate groping, then, yes. He has.”
Noin deflated as she groaned. Sometimes, the seven year old had a way with words that made her seem so childish...she frowned over at him. “Then what’s the difference?”
“Well...dad says that if anyone ever asks me to touch their private parts or if they could touch mine, that’s cause for telling, and they could be thrown into jail, because it’s illegal and immoral.”
“Has anyone ever...?”
“No.”
“Who’s that older boy you’re playing with? Who are his parents?”
“His name’s Heero, Miss Noin. Duo and I know him. I don’t know who his parents are. But he’s really neat, and I like him.”
“He doesn’t try to tell you...things...?”
“Like what, Miss Noin?”
“Like...stories?”
Quatre shrugged a shoulder. Noin was extra curious as to what he was drawing, but because they had been so grossly graphic, she really didn’t want to know. “He watches out for us. He’s like...like...a superhero. He’s always there when we’re in trouble.”
“Like how?”
“He..he just is, Miss Noin. Maria–I mean...I think he’s a very good person.”
Noin caught the name–one of his invisible friends. Mr. Winner had warned her that he’d talked to Quatre about telling ‘stories’, and that he was not to do so anymore. If he did so in Noin’s presence, she would have to set him in time-out.
“He is, huh?”
“Yes, Miss Noin. I like Heero a lot. Hopefully, one day, I can be like him. He’s all strong and smart. And he climbs really tall trees.”
Noin liked it when Quatre talked his age. She grinned over at him, chuckling. “Oh, sweetie, you’ll be good all on your own...being yourself...”
“I don’t think so. I think...I think when I get older, I’ll be too afraid to do things. Like...sometimes, when I’m out playing, I get too scared to do things. And Duo says I cry easily. I think when I’m older, I’d be someone people would be annoyed of.”
Noin looked at him, then quickly made him a dish. “Why? Why do you think that?”
“There’s a lot of things I’m afraid of, Miss Noin. And I don’t think I’d ever get better from them. Even with...uh...myself. And my friends.” Quatre shrugged. “But we’ll see, I guess, huh?”
Noin ‘hmm-ed’, then lightly salted and peppered his food. She dished herself up, and brought the two plates over to the table. Setting them down, she sat across from him as he put his things away. She’d seen his drawing–it was Heero in a superhero’s costume, flexing one arm as he stood behind Quatre and Duo.
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That night, Mr. Winner was busy talking with Noin over upping her pay. While she was modestly trying to deny it, he insisted.
Quatre had grown bored with their talk, and had wandered outside, onto the front porch. He stared across the street at Duo’s house, Maria sitting on the railing.
Sometimes, I can hear him thinking about you, she whispered, her back to him. You must be careful, Quatre.
“I will,” he promised her.
Sometimes, people never get better. They lose themselves completely to their own horror and pain...they let it control them. They start thinking differently, and they never go back to who they were before...I think that’s what happened to him, Quatre. You must stay away from him. His hate is not directed toward you–it’s directed at Milly. And it’s because you look like him that he’s decided to focus on you.
“He doesn’t know Miss Noin and Milly are a couple, huh?”
No...but it does not matter...I don’t think he and Milly will ever see each other again. Not in the way that it matters.
“Why?”
It’s just something that I think...I don’t think you should be friends with Duo anymore...
“I can’t do that! Duo’s my best friend!” Quatre cried.
He loves his brother, Quatre. He’ll always choose Trowa over you...over anything else...
“But...but I’m his best friend...”
It doesn’t matter, Quatre. It doesn’t matter at all.
Quatre sighed, deflating in his chair. He stared miserably over at their house. Their parents hadn’t come home yet. It was late, nearly seven o’clock–usually, they were home at this time. But he wasn’t concerned. He knew parents took their time coming home, doing other things. He looked over the arm of his chair, at the lizard that still had string around its shoulders. With a reluctant expression, he reached for the creature, and caught it as it tried to escape. He took off the string that bound it, and giggled when it crawled up his arm, leapt from his shoulder, and skittered off the chair. It disappeared over the porch, to places unknown and far from him. Playing with the string, he looked past Maria, and wondered if Duo would ever come back.
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He shifted his binoculars. Duo was jumping on the bed, eating a Squeeze-Pop and talking a million miles per minute about some cartoon. Blanket was protesting the action, but Trowa wasn’t paying attention to either. His binoculars caught the little blond that was playing in his front lawn. The baby-sitter was no where in sight. The father, either.
The child was all alone...small...easily manipulated when it concerned Duo. Trowa could lure him easily to the garage and do away with him in the way that he liked. But Catherine was against that idea.
Too easy, she whispered, not wanting to be heard by Duo. They’ll easily think it’s you, Trowa. Think smarter!
“And then Dexter was all, “NOOO! DEEDEE! I will destroy YYOOOUUU!!”
Well...the meadow was often empty, but those older kids played nearby...and it was right near the Winners’ neighbors...
Think random, Trowa. Not right at home!
“...and DeeDee just laughed and laughed and laughed, and sometimes she reminds me of Quatre because she’s all blond and blue eyed, and I think I really like Quatre because he’s really nice and he makes me feel really big...”
One of the DustBunnies giggled, and he glared at it. They were supposed to be invisible whenever Duo was around. One of its friends chomped on its linty roundness, and it was no more. Instead, the one who chomped on his friend absorbed its remains and grew bigger. They were funny little things, DustBunnies... whenever they ate something, they grew bigger. Yet, they were able to hide themselves easily when it mattered.
“But Heero was like, no way! You both are going down! Take that! And that! And he jumps really high, higher than Dad, higher than anyone I know! I think Heero can even jump higher than Shaq!...”
He peered back through the binoculars, ignoring Duo’s chatter.
Quatre was talking out loud, looking underneath the large decorative stones in his father’s yard. He was dirty, as little kids usually were, and the holes in his jeans flashed bits of white skin and dirt. Trowa wanted to wring his neck. As a child, he’d been unable to play in that way. His clothes had to be kept clean–just in case someone wanted to adopt him. He couldn’t get dirty. And yet, this kid across the street flaunts his ability to do so as if it were an everyday thing, when other kids, like Trowa, were unable to. Little brat.
His hate increased.
“Slut,” he whispered.
Yes, Trowa...think of it. When he gets older, he will be. Taking others without reason...without question... he’ll attack using his innocence and purity...but he’ll do unspeakable things to innocent people like yourself, just like that Predator...Catherine was insistent that Quatre was evil. She hated him as much as Trowa did. You need to stop him before he can, Trowa. You need to save the others...then show your example after he’s gone.
“...And then I was like, Yay! Food!...”
“Yes...I’ll show them...”
Do unto him as others have done unto you...Take no prisoners!
“...And Miss Noin says that her boyfriend doesn’t want to come over to Quatre’s house because it’s all scary, and because she said that he said he saw ghosts there, and that he hated ghosts, and that–”
“No...no prisoners...”
He squinted his eyes, tracing the path Quatre was taking from one rock to the other. The evening fell, the street lamps coming on–his hair was orangish in the light. He suddenly turned, facing the house. His father was walking out onto the porch, along with his baby-sitter. Enviously, Trowa watched as Mr. Winner gave chase to his son, who squealed and laughed as he ran about, trying to escape. At the sight of Mr. Winner catching and tossing his son into the air, Trowa lowered the binoculars, and chewed on his lips.
The DustBunnies giggled. Mocking his pain.
“Shut up!” he growled.
The bed stopped squeaking, and he remembered belatedly that Duo was still there. He turned, tossing the binoculars aside as he stared at his brother. Duo’s face was sticky with his candy, and he was looking at Trowa cautiously. Waiting to be punished. Trowa frowned at him, and gestured at him to get off his bed. Blanket grumbled at being so used as Duo scrambled off the bed.
“Get out,” Trowa growled at Duo.
“But...but where’s mom and dad?”
“Who cares?!”
“I hope they’re bringing something good to eat,” Duo declared, ignoring Trowa’s previous order. He licked at the Squeeze-Pop. “What were you looking at? Can I look?”
“NO! Get out!”
“But–! But–!”
“OUT!”
Duo scrambled out of his brother’s room, slamming the door behind him. Standing there, Trowa stared at the closed door. His plan should have worked. It should have worked. Maybe the reason why their parents weren’t coming home was because they were bloodied and mangled within their wrecked vehicle. Maybe they’d collided with a semi somewhere, and were missing pieces of their bodies.
He grinned. That sounded absolutely fantastic.
A mouse suddenly darted out from underneath his dresser. Puzzled, Trowa blinked at it. Where had that come from?
It was confused, lost, afraid–it stopped at one of the wooden legs of his bed, nose working furiously. Its gray body nearly blended in with Blanket.
A DustBunny careened out from his closet, jaws wide open. The mouse emitted a human like shriek before its body was chomped in half by the DustBunny. Several others joined the first, and a carnage like none other took place. Trowa watched with an awestruck expression as fur, blood, and bones flew.
That is soooo gross, Catherine declared.
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Quatre...
Quatre, wake up...
The blond mumbled a protest, shifting in his bed.
Get up!
He pulled the pillow over his head.
GET UP NOW!
Maria was really loud...he opened his eyes to see her staring fearfully over his shoulder. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and he found he couldn’t move as he stared at the ghost’s fearful expression. Something covered his mouth–he couldn’t breathe. He started to struggle, flailing his arms wildly as Maria started to cry, moving off the bed. She suddenly disappeared within the darkness of his room as Freddy laughed maniacally.
Quatre didn’t know what was going on, but there was a really loud buzzing within his head. He couldn’t move his body, and whenever he tried to breathe, something foul and heavy seemed to permeate his lungs. Then he was aware that he couldn’t lift his arms, nor keep his eyes open. Freddy’s head slowly popped up from the side of his bed, his eyes narrowed with glee.
Then he couldn’t move. His head flopped down onto his pillow, and he stared almost sightlessly at Freddy. He felt himself picked up–he didn’t recognize the person, who was dressed entirely in black, and wondered why and what he was doing. Unable to make any noises, Quatre’s mind was racing with fear, panic and cries for his father. The house was entirely silent as the man walked with him out of the room, and took the stairs quietly, holding him tightly.
Suddenly, something loud crashed to the floor in the kitchen, and the intruder froze at the bottom steps. Something else crashed in the living room–glass exploded, and books were flung across the room. The man dropped Quatre out of blind panic, and raced out the open door as lights came on upstairs. Quatre sank into unconsciousness despite the brief flash of pain upon impact with the floor. He heard more crashes from various sections of the house, and his father’s and sisters’ shouts of confusion.
His father raced downstairs with a loaded gun he’d had locked in a safe near his bed. Once he saw his son, and the open door, his panic grew tenfold. The crashing noises ceased as he reached Quatre. The slack features and obvious unconsciousness increased his tension and anxiety. He shouted at Iria to call the police. The girls upstairs were huddled together, looking fearfully down at them as Iria ran to do as he said.
Mr. Winner, after a glance at the open door, picked up his son. There was the presence of wetness around his cheeks and mouth–he didn’t want to touch anything more, to save for evidence, but his helpless rage and fury that someone had almost stolen away with his precious son burned within him.
With a croaking exclamation, he positioned his son in his lap so that nothing would be wiped from his face. He could guess that it was chloroform or something of the sort, used to keep his son silent while he was stolen away.
He looked up at the door, wondering how the intruder had gotten in. The deadbolt and chain had been in place...everything had been locked and secured before he’d retired. How...?!
He looked back up at his girls, all of them afraid and silent. Then, back down at his son. But something large and round skittered past the stairway, and out the door. It looked like a mouse...with rabbit ears...
Too stunned with the near abduction of his son, Mr. Winner forgot that little instance and heard the sirens in the distance growing closer.
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Noin brushed stray strands of white blond hair from her charge’s face. The near abduction had his father in a panic, and everyone was staying home, father included. Right now, he was directing a rather irate conversation with the detective working on the case, and from the sounds of it, he wasn’t very happy with the investigating efforts conducted. The man, dressed in black from Quatre’s accounts, had stolen into the house somehow. All the windows had been locked. The back door, the garage, the windows...how the man had gotten in, no one rightly knew. There were no fingerprints, no telltale evidence of the intruder even penetrating the household–they could only go with what the seven year old told them. Which wasn’t much.
Noin hugged Quatre close–the boy was terrified now, sleeping with his father at night. Mr. Winner was furious, and the girls were scared.
Earlier, Mr. Winner had made arrangements for his children to be sent to a trusted relative’s house until this investigation could turn up some clues. All the children were being sent out of state, Quatre included. Noin had a feeling she probably wouldn’t see him for awhile. So she was taking the time to hold him and stay with him until she went to her evening job.
“You’re going to be good, right?” she murmured against his hair. “No stories?”
“No stories, Miss Noin.”
“Stay out of trouble, all right? Your father will take care of you.”
“I know. I will.”
“Listen to your sisters, all right? Even when it seems like they’re being bossy...”
“I will, Miss Noin. Will you miss me?”
“You know I will, brat-boy. Who am I going to yell at, now?” she asked, kissing the top of his head.
“Your boyfriend.”
“That’s not as fun as yelling at you.”
“I’m going to miss you, Miss Noin. You were the only one that didn’t go away when I told you about my friends.”
“I’m going to miss you more, kid. I know how hard it is to be understood...”
“I’m going to leave Duo... I want to see him one more time...”
“I know, sweetie. Maybe, if you ask your father, he’ll take you over there so you can say good-bye. All right?”
“All right...”
Noin swept hair from forehead, and kissed him one more time. Then hugged him tightly. Breathing in his familiar scents, she sighed.
110101010101100
Foiled again! Catherine cursed from inside his pocket. They have things in their house that aid them, Trowa! What do they have in their house that aids them?
“How the fuck do I know?” Trowa cursed, pacing his room.
No one knew that it was he that had stolen into the Winners’ house. He’d been so careful! He had the chloroform–internet connections could get you anything–he had the DustBunnies to help him, and Blanket had even come along for the ride, to cover the boy. But things were destroyed at the sounds in the house...someone had been awake and had alerted the household to his presence.
Fortunately for him, no one saw him nor suspected him. Even if his adopted parents were still missing. Upon Catherine’s orders, he’d called in a missing person report, and filed one dutifully, acting the very image of inconsolable teenager that worried about his parents’ absence. The police were working on locating them, but Trowa was very hopeful that his earlier plans had worked. If they did...if they did, then he and Duo would be separated. And they’d be taken away from here. Placed in an orphanage, where he planned to escape. He’d become a runaway, and carry out the rest of his plans in peace. And Duo would be out of his hair.
His plans were coming into place, and he was very excited about it.
But a hitch in them had ruined his plans for Quatre–well, he figured he would work on that aspect later. It wasn’t as if Mr. Winner was a private person. For a top-notch lawyer, he was easily reached. His children were as well.
He figured he would get to Quatre later on–it didn’t matter. He had plans. Plans.
Things are turning out good for you, Trowa! Catherine then said joyously, her childish voice squeaking with joy. This is awesome! I’m so very happy for you, Trowa. So very happy...
“Things are working well, Catherine. Things are working very well...”
Let’s just hope those two miserable bastards are dead...are you sure they had no other relatives?
“Yes. And besides, it isn’t as if we’ll be passed onto them. We’d be wards of the state.”
Well, in that case–
“Trowa? Trowa, where’s mom and dad?”
Trowa came to a stop in his pacing, cringing. He turned, hearing Catherine hiss in annoyance. Duo stood in the doorway, dressed in his jammies and looking lost...innocent...sad. Trowa wanted to smack that expression from his face. It was probably the very same one that reeled in Sam and Helen. His rage caused his hand to shake, but Catherine restrained him with a whispered reminder that he was to be careful.
“I...I don’t know...Duo,” Trowa managed to scrunch out between tightly clenched teeth. “The police are looking for them.”
“I hope they aren’t hurt, Trowa. I would be really sad if they were,” Duo confessed, picking at the end of his braid.
Trowa...Trowa, I have an idea! Catherine suddenly whispered.
Trowa frowned down at him, then turned his back to him, dismissing him.
We can use Duo, Trowa! He and Quatre are best friends...they care for each other...we can use Duo to lure in Quatre...
“But, I–!”
Think about it, idiot! They’re ‘best friends’...and you know how they get when they’re together! Sappy mush best friend stuff...you can use him...Duo will do anything to please you, Trowa. Anything...
Trowa frowned at her whispered words. He turned, and studied Duo, who was looking sad and lost. Catherine continued to whisper her plans involving him, and the more she talked, the more things made sense.
After much indecision, Trowa snorted, and faced Duo once more. “Come inside, Duo. I want to talk to you.”
Duo brightened at this attention. He nodded, and shut the door behind him.
Trowa’s face, usually angry and sullen, turned a malicious smirk. Duo suddenly felt scared, and he was uncertain as he stared up at his adopted brother. There was the sound of giggling...high pitched giggling and hissing. Looking around himself, Duo suddenly saw grinning mouths from the shadows from Trowa’s room, emerging out from underneath his bed. Possibly millions of linty balls with rabbit ears were emerging from various places, and, panicked, Duo climbed onto the bed. But even the bed shifted, the blanket curling up and around him, like human arms. He tried to shriek, but the comforter covered his nose and mouth, effectively silencing any sound he made.
Breathing heavily, Duo’s eyes wide and fearful, he looked over at Trowa for some sort of assurance.
Trowa took out the pez dispenser that Duo had been looking for for the longest time, sitting it onto the top of his tv. It was somehow important; very important. As Trowa moved away from it, Duo looking at him in fear, it spoke to him.
Hello, Duo! Yes, yes, it’s me, Spidy! Well, not exactly. My name’s Catherine, and I’m here to tell you a story...so sit down, shut up, and if you think to talk over me or talk back, your brother’s going to hate you and have you sent away. Got it?
Duo nodded rapidly, glancing over at Trowa once more. Catherine chuckled in a delighted way, and began to talk.
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Mr. Winner had the plans ready. His children were going to travel out of state. Their things were packed, and they were all leaving for the airport in two hours. His girls were saying their goodbyes to their friends, and Quatre was pleading with him to accompany him to Duo’s. With a reluctant sigh, Mr. Winner acquiesced, instructing his girls to lock the door and open it only to him. They started across the street, Quatre taking the lead. Mr. Winner noticed that Sam and Helen hadn’t come home for a few days...he wondered where they were.
Quatre knocked on the door and waited as Mr. Winner took his time climbing the sidewalk toward their house. He kept glancing back at his house, hoping that his girls were okay, that the intruder wasn’t going to take this chance to try and infiltrate when he was away. At the sound of the door opening, he turned, watching as his son stuttered to the older boy, Trowa. Duo was there suddenly, giving him a happy smile as he hurried out onto the porch.
“Hi, Mr. Winner!” he bellowed, as if the man were down the block. Mr. Winner winced, but greeted him, looking at Trowa.
Trowa sullenly glared at him, mumbling a greeting. Mr. Winner wasn’t offended by his attitude–he had teen girls of his own, and was familiar with the mood.
“Quatre will be moving, Duo,” he said to the braided boy. Duo looked immediately worried, glancing back at Trowa. Trowa suddenly left the doorway, muttering about something being left on the stove. Mr. Winner focused on Duo, never understanding the expression that had passed between the two boys. “He’s here to say goodbye...”
“You’re really leaving?” Duo cried, looking at Quatre.
Quatre nodded. “Yes. Someone tried to kidnap me, so dad’s sending me away.”
“Why? Who would take you?”
“I don’t know. But dad feels that I should not be here. So I am moving with my sisters. I don’t know where...”
“But–! But–! Who’ll be my best friend? I don’t know anyone else!” Duo cried, looking close to tears.
Quatre shrugged, fiddling with his shirt hem. “You have Heero, Duo. Can you tell him I said ‘goodbye’? I’m sorry that I cannot see him...but I don’t know where he lives. Can you tell him?”
“Yeah...but...I don’t want you to go. Trowa and I are going to miss you, Quatre.”
“I’ll miss you, too, Duo. Maybe we can see each other again in the future, ‘k?”
“Yeah...but I wish that you wouldn’t go...”
“I’m sorry, Duo. I really am.” Quatre then leaned forward, and hugged Duo tightly.
The little boy returned the embrace, burying his face against his face’s shoulder. He understood that Trowa wasn’t going to get his friend–in a way, he was very happy. In another, he was disappointed that his older brother wasn’t going to be happy. He tried to convey all that he felt for his friend. But he knew that Quatre would not feel it.
As they pushed away from each other, Duo caught a fleeting glance of Maria, Marcus, and Freddy. They were all standing close by, staring at him. Freddy was looking mean, as usual, smirking in a way that Duo knew was malicious and planning. Maria and Marcus looked relieved. He didn’t know where Dillon was.
Suddenly, he wondered that if Quatre left, would these guys still be around?
He looked at his friend, letting go of him.
“Well...I hope things work better for you,” he said on a sigh.
He saw Maria suddenly gasp. A police cruiser was pulling up to the curb, and an unmarked car was already parked across the street, a couple of detectives walking over with stern expressions. Duo blinked at them, Quatre looking over at them. Mr. Winner looked curious as he watched the plainclothes step onto the sidewalk.
“We’re here to speak to a...ah, Trowa Maxwell?” one of them called, looking at a notepad.
“TROWA!” Duo bellowed into the house. “Some guys are lookin’ for you!”
“C’mon, Quatre,” Mr. Winner said, gently pulling at his son.
Duo looked back at him, and was a little surprised to see Maria talking frantically to him. Quatre’s eyes widened, and he looked at Duo, then at Trowa as the teen walked out onto the porch. Trowa approached the plainclothes, who lowered their voices as they began speaking to him.
Duo watched, with some apprehension clear on his face, as Trowa stared at them in silence. Mr. Winner hesitated to leave, wondering if he should offer some assistance, when Quatre tugged at Duo’s arm.
“He’s bad, Duo!” he hissed, keeping his voice low. Mr. Winner caught it, though, looking at him sharply. “He’s bad! Maria said that he lies!”
Duo looked at him. His eyes were wide with disbelief, then darkened with rage. “Don’t talk about him that way!”
“No–! Please, Duo, listen to me! She said that he’ll hurt you! That he killed his mom and dad–!”
By now, the plainclothes had heard what Quatre was saying to Duo, and were looking at him with interest. With an embarrassed air, Mr. Winner stalked over and picked up his son.
“I’m so sorry, Duo,” he apologized.
“You shouldn’t tell lies like that!” Duo shouted at Quatre, furious. “Those are lies! LIES! You make up things in your head, you liar!”
Quatre looked shocked that Duo was telling him this. He stared at Duo in disbelief as one of the plainclothes walked over to intercept Mr. Winner.
“What’s he talkin’ about?” he asked, gesturing at the blond.
“I’m so sorry, officer,” Mr. Winner said on a sigh, shaking his head. “My son makes up stories...he does not know what happened. If I may inquire, is there something I can help you with?”
“He makes up stories, huh?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry, officer. I really must apologize for him. To you, too, Duo.”
“That’s right! They’re lies! That’s all he tells!” Duo shouted, face growing red. “My brother would not do that sort of thing! He loved mom and dad! And he loves me! He would never hurt anybody!”
“Duo–!” Quatre gasped. “But–! But–!”
“Quatre, ENOUGH!”
“But, dad! He was the one that beat up me and Duo!” Quatre cried, pointing at Trowa.
The sullen teen was looking over at him at the accusation. He looked at the other plainclothes officer, shaking his head. At Catherine’s whispered orders, he even caused his eyes to wet and eke out tears. Becoming distraught over the deaths of his parents, of whom he’d never cared for, was hard work. He’d have to reward himself later.
“He’s going to hurt you, Duo!” Quatre shouted at his friend, his father talking apologetically to the plainclothes. “He’s going to hurt you, and I can’t be here to stop him! You must listen to me, Duo! They tell me the truth! They’re telling me the truth!”
“Shut up, you liar!” Duo shrieked. “I hate you! I hate you! How dare you talk about him that way? I hope you go away for good, you liar!”
“DUO!”
“I’m sorry, officers, Trowa...Duo. If you have any questions, officer, or wish to talk to me about this situation, please–come over to my house. I’m afraid my son and my daughters are leaving out of state, and he’s upset that he’s leaving his friends behind...”
“He’s no friend of mine!”
“DUO! Duo, I’ve never lied to you!”
“Sure, uh...”
“Here’s my card...”
“Go away, liar! LIAR!”
“DUU~OOO!!!”
Duo dashed away tears from his face as Mr. Winner angrily carried off his son, who was sobbing in response from whatever the older man was growling. His blood was racing with immense sorrow and panic as he knew his adopted parents were dead–the men were telling Trowa this. And he knew Quatre was not lying–Trowa had told him everything last night.
But he had to do everything he could to please Trowa. He had to!
As he watched Mr. Winner and his son disappear into his house, he felt his anger ebb slightly. He looked over at Trowa, and smiled tearfully. Trowa’s answering lift of his eyebrow was enough to placate Duo’s nerves and feelings. He’d done good. His brother was proud of him.
110101010101100
Quatre never saw the ghosts again.
To Be Continued....
Conclusion
Heero gave a low, impatient growl deep within his throat as Quatre fumbled with tying the string around the squirmy lizard’s shoulders. Reaching over, he held the lizard within both hands, and Quatre finished tying the string around it.
“There,” he said, letting the lizard fall to the dirt. It tried to scamper away, but was stopped short by the string that held it in place. “See? Your own little pet...”
“Wow! I would have never thought of that!” Quatre exclaimed, watching as the lizard tried to squirm out of its makeshift leash.
Heero stepped back as the blue-belly crawled over his shoes, and nearly scurried up Quatre’s leg. The blond bent, and picked up the live creature, careful to keep the string from choking it. It was tied in such a way that it looped around its front legs and shoulders–Heero didn’t want to kill the creature.
The pair of them were standing on Quatre’s front porch, where Heero had come over with the overly large creature and the piece of string. He hadn’t seen the blond boy since that day Trowa had beat him up, and his twelve-year-old curiosity in how the kid was doing made him ditch his usual friends in favor of visiting him.
Quatre’s babysitter, Noin, was sitting nearby, gabbing on her cellphone and looking at a magazine. Heero glanced over at her, noting that while she knew what they were doing, she really gave the kid too much freedom. He looked back at the seven year old, who was whimpering when the lizard clamped its mouth around his finger. With an annoyed roll of his eyes, Heero tugged the lizard away from him.
“Don’t let it bite you,” he growled. “What were you doing?”
“I was just petting it...”
“It’s not a dog, Quatre. It doesn’t want to be petted. It’s too scared to let you do that. Here. Hold it like this. I think it’s hungry. Let’s go look for some bugs.”
“All right.”
“And careful. Don’t choke it.”
“I won’t.”
Noin looked up from her magazine, smiling slightly as she watched the older boy boss Quatre around in a way that wasn’t threatening or mean–just filled with the impatience an older sibling had with a younger one. He had come over unexpectedly with the lizard, and Noin was happy that Quatre had a friend in the older kid. How he knew him, she didn’t know. Duo was under Trowa’s care, now, and hadn’t come over since that one day. She had a feeling that Trowa didn’t like coming outside all the time, but Duo didn’t seem to mind. She looked over at her charge and his new friend as they rummaged through the flowerbeds for something the lizard could munch on. The older boy was holding up what looked to be a cricket, and she winced as he ripped it in half and showed Quatre how to feed the lizard.
Little boys and their games, she thought with a shake of her head. She focused on the slim figures featured in her magazine, and lost herself in the fashion of today’s runways. When she looked up, the two were gone. She couldn’t even hear their voices. She rose from the chair, calling Quatre’s name. When there wasn’t a reply, she grew slightly panicked and hurried about, looking for him.
“Great,” she muttered, running into the backyard. They weren’t there, either. Panic began rising up within her. She didn’t know that other kid, nor his parents. For all she knew, he could have been the one that had beat him and Duo up the other day!
Getting very tense and angry, Noin intensified her search. That older kid may have lured Quatre off on the pretense of being friends, and was possibly doing something entirely bad–! She thought of young molesters and murderers and grew even more panicked. Kids these days were unpredictable!
“Quatre!!” she screamed.
“Miss Noin? What’s wrong?”
Noin sucked in a deep breath at the sound of his voice. His head popped out from his father’s upstairs study, where the balcony doors were wide open. The older kid looked over the railing with a puzzled expression.
Trying to calm down, Noin put her hand against her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun, and she peered up at both of them.
“What are you two doing?” she asked, glaring at the older kid.
“Looking for a jar.”
“You’re not going to find it in your father’s room, kid. Get out of there before he comes home and gets mad at you for being in there,” she ordered.
The two disappeared, the doors shutting behind them. How they had gotten inside, she didn’t know. But she sighed with relief, shoulders drooping as she headed around front, to walk inside.
110101010101100
“Quatre,” she began, stirring the noodles that were thickly covered with tomato sauce. She was serving a late lunch, and the older kid had gone home in search of his own lunch. “Did your father ever talk to you about good touches and bad touches?”
At the table, where the blond child sat, coloring, Quatre snorted. “Miss Noin...if you are asking if dad ever talked to me about molestation and inappropriate groping, then, yes. He has.”
Noin deflated as she groaned. Sometimes, the seven year old had a way with words that made her seem so childish...she frowned over at him. “Then what’s the difference?”
“Well...dad says that if anyone ever asks me to touch their private parts or if they could touch mine, that’s cause for telling, and they could be thrown into jail, because it’s illegal and immoral.”
“Has anyone ever...?”
“No.”
“Who’s that older boy you’re playing with? Who are his parents?”
“His name’s Heero, Miss Noin. Duo and I know him. I don’t know who his parents are. But he’s really neat, and I like him.”
“He doesn’t try to tell you...things...?”
“Like what, Miss Noin?”
“Like...stories?”
Quatre shrugged a shoulder. Noin was extra curious as to what he was drawing, but because they had been so grossly graphic, she really didn’t want to know. “He watches out for us. He’s like...like...a superhero. He’s always there when we’re in trouble.”
“Like how?”
“He..he just is, Miss Noin. Maria–I mean...I think he’s a very good person.”
Noin caught the name–one of his invisible friends. Mr. Winner had warned her that he’d talked to Quatre about telling ‘stories’, and that he was not to do so anymore. If he did so in Noin’s presence, she would have to set him in time-out.
“He is, huh?”
“Yes, Miss Noin. I like Heero a lot. Hopefully, one day, I can be like him. He’s all strong and smart. And he climbs really tall trees.”
Noin liked it when Quatre talked his age. She grinned over at him, chuckling. “Oh, sweetie, you’ll be good all on your own...being yourself...”
“I don’t think so. I think...I think when I get older, I’ll be too afraid to do things. Like...sometimes, when I’m out playing, I get too scared to do things. And Duo says I cry easily. I think when I’m older, I’d be someone people would be annoyed of.”
Noin looked at him, then quickly made him a dish. “Why? Why do you think that?”
“There’s a lot of things I’m afraid of, Miss Noin. And I don’t think I’d ever get better from them. Even with...uh...myself. And my friends.” Quatre shrugged. “But we’ll see, I guess, huh?”
Noin ‘hmm-ed’, then lightly salted and peppered his food. She dished herself up, and brought the two plates over to the table. Setting them down, she sat across from him as he put his things away. She’d seen his drawing–it was Heero in a superhero’s costume, flexing one arm as he stood behind Quatre and Duo.
110101010101100
That night, Mr. Winner was busy talking with Noin over upping her pay. While she was modestly trying to deny it, he insisted.
Quatre had grown bored with their talk, and had wandered outside, onto the front porch. He stared across the street at Duo’s house, Maria sitting on the railing.
Sometimes, I can hear him thinking about you, she whispered, her back to him. You must be careful, Quatre.
“I will,” he promised her.
Sometimes, people never get better. They lose themselves completely to their own horror and pain...they let it control them. They start thinking differently, and they never go back to who they were before...I think that’s what happened to him, Quatre. You must stay away from him. His hate is not directed toward you–it’s directed at Milly. And it’s because you look like him that he’s decided to focus on you.
“He doesn’t know Miss Noin and Milly are a couple, huh?”
No...but it does not matter...I don’t think he and Milly will ever see each other again. Not in the way that it matters.
“Why?”
It’s just something that I think...I don’t think you should be friends with Duo anymore...
“I can’t do that! Duo’s my best friend!” Quatre cried.
He loves his brother, Quatre. He’ll always choose Trowa over you...over anything else...
“But...but I’m his best friend...”
It doesn’t matter, Quatre. It doesn’t matter at all.
Quatre sighed, deflating in his chair. He stared miserably over at their house. Their parents hadn’t come home yet. It was late, nearly seven o’clock–usually, they were home at this time. But he wasn’t concerned. He knew parents took their time coming home, doing other things. He looked over the arm of his chair, at the lizard that still had string around its shoulders. With a reluctant expression, he reached for the creature, and caught it as it tried to escape. He took off the string that bound it, and giggled when it crawled up his arm, leapt from his shoulder, and skittered off the chair. It disappeared over the porch, to places unknown and far from him. Playing with the string, he looked past Maria, and wondered if Duo would ever come back.
110101010101100
He shifted his binoculars. Duo was jumping on the bed, eating a Squeeze-Pop and talking a million miles per minute about some cartoon. Blanket was protesting the action, but Trowa wasn’t paying attention to either. His binoculars caught the little blond that was playing in his front lawn. The baby-sitter was no where in sight. The father, either.
The child was all alone...small...easily manipulated when it concerned Duo. Trowa could lure him easily to the garage and do away with him in the way that he liked. But Catherine was against that idea.
Too easy, she whispered, not wanting to be heard by Duo. They’ll easily think it’s you, Trowa. Think smarter!
“And then Dexter was all, “NOOO! DEEDEE! I will destroy YYOOOUUU!!”
Well...the meadow was often empty, but those older kids played nearby...and it was right near the Winners’ neighbors...
Think random, Trowa. Not right at home!
“...and DeeDee just laughed and laughed and laughed, and sometimes she reminds me of Quatre because she’s all blond and blue eyed, and I think I really like Quatre because he’s really nice and he makes me feel really big...”
One of the DustBunnies giggled, and he glared at it. They were supposed to be invisible whenever Duo was around. One of its friends chomped on its linty roundness, and it was no more. Instead, the one who chomped on his friend absorbed its remains and grew bigger. They were funny little things, DustBunnies... whenever they ate something, they grew bigger. Yet, they were able to hide themselves easily when it mattered.
“But Heero was like, no way! You both are going down! Take that! And that! And he jumps really high, higher than Dad, higher than anyone I know! I think Heero can even jump higher than Shaq!...”
He peered back through the binoculars, ignoring Duo’s chatter.
Quatre was talking out loud, looking underneath the large decorative stones in his father’s yard. He was dirty, as little kids usually were, and the holes in his jeans flashed bits of white skin and dirt. Trowa wanted to wring his neck. As a child, he’d been unable to play in that way. His clothes had to be kept clean–just in case someone wanted to adopt him. He couldn’t get dirty. And yet, this kid across the street flaunts his ability to do so as if it were an everyday thing, when other kids, like Trowa, were unable to. Little brat.
His hate increased.
“Slut,” he whispered.
Yes, Trowa...think of it. When he gets older, he will be. Taking others without reason...without question... he’ll attack using his innocence and purity...but he’ll do unspeakable things to innocent people like yourself, just like that Predator...Catherine was insistent that Quatre was evil. She hated him as much as Trowa did. You need to stop him before he can, Trowa. You need to save the others...then show your example after he’s gone.
“...And then I was like, Yay! Food!...”
“Yes...I’ll show them...”
Do unto him as others have done unto you...Take no prisoners!
“...And Miss Noin says that her boyfriend doesn’t want to come over to Quatre’s house because it’s all scary, and because she said that he said he saw ghosts there, and that he hated ghosts, and that–”
“No...no prisoners...”
He squinted his eyes, tracing the path Quatre was taking from one rock to the other. The evening fell, the street lamps coming on–his hair was orangish in the light. He suddenly turned, facing the house. His father was walking out onto the porch, along with his baby-sitter. Enviously, Trowa watched as Mr. Winner gave chase to his son, who squealed and laughed as he ran about, trying to escape. At the sight of Mr. Winner catching and tossing his son into the air, Trowa lowered the binoculars, and chewed on his lips.
The DustBunnies giggled. Mocking his pain.
“Shut up!” he growled.
The bed stopped squeaking, and he remembered belatedly that Duo was still there. He turned, tossing the binoculars aside as he stared at his brother. Duo’s face was sticky with his candy, and he was looking at Trowa cautiously. Waiting to be punished. Trowa frowned at him, and gestured at him to get off his bed. Blanket grumbled at being so used as Duo scrambled off the bed.
“Get out,” Trowa growled at Duo.
“But...but where’s mom and dad?”
“Who cares?!”
“I hope they’re bringing something good to eat,” Duo declared, ignoring Trowa’s previous order. He licked at the Squeeze-Pop. “What were you looking at? Can I look?”
“NO! Get out!”
“But–! But–!”
“OUT!”
Duo scrambled out of his brother’s room, slamming the door behind him. Standing there, Trowa stared at the closed door. His plan should have worked. It should have worked. Maybe the reason why their parents weren’t coming home was because they were bloodied and mangled within their wrecked vehicle. Maybe they’d collided with a semi somewhere, and were missing pieces of their bodies.
He grinned. That sounded absolutely fantastic.
A mouse suddenly darted out from underneath his dresser. Puzzled, Trowa blinked at it. Where had that come from?
It was confused, lost, afraid–it stopped at one of the wooden legs of his bed, nose working furiously. Its gray body nearly blended in with Blanket.
A DustBunny careened out from his closet, jaws wide open. The mouse emitted a human like shriek before its body was chomped in half by the DustBunny. Several others joined the first, and a carnage like none other took place. Trowa watched with an awestruck expression as fur, blood, and bones flew.
That is soooo gross, Catherine declared.
110101010101100
Quatre...
Quatre, wake up...
The blond mumbled a protest, shifting in his bed.
Get up!
He pulled the pillow over his head.
GET UP NOW!
Maria was really loud...he opened his eyes to see her staring fearfully over his shoulder. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and he found he couldn’t move as he stared at the ghost’s fearful expression. Something covered his mouth–he couldn’t breathe. He started to struggle, flailing his arms wildly as Maria started to cry, moving off the bed. She suddenly disappeared within the darkness of his room as Freddy laughed maniacally.
Quatre didn’t know what was going on, but there was a really loud buzzing within his head. He couldn’t move his body, and whenever he tried to breathe, something foul and heavy seemed to permeate his lungs. Then he was aware that he couldn’t lift his arms, nor keep his eyes open. Freddy’s head slowly popped up from the side of his bed, his eyes narrowed with glee.
Then he couldn’t move. His head flopped down onto his pillow, and he stared almost sightlessly at Freddy. He felt himself picked up–he didn’t recognize the person, who was dressed entirely in black, and wondered why and what he was doing. Unable to make any noises, Quatre’s mind was racing with fear, panic and cries for his father. The house was entirely silent as the man walked with him out of the room, and took the stairs quietly, holding him tightly.
Suddenly, something loud crashed to the floor in the kitchen, and the intruder froze at the bottom steps. Something else crashed in the living room–glass exploded, and books were flung across the room. The man dropped Quatre out of blind panic, and raced out the open door as lights came on upstairs. Quatre sank into unconsciousness despite the brief flash of pain upon impact with the floor. He heard more crashes from various sections of the house, and his father’s and sisters’ shouts of confusion.
His father raced downstairs with a loaded gun he’d had locked in a safe near his bed. Once he saw his son, and the open door, his panic grew tenfold. The crashing noises ceased as he reached Quatre. The slack features and obvious unconsciousness increased his tension and anxiety. He shouted at Iria to call the police. The girls upstairs were huddled together, looking fearfully down at them as Iria ran to do as he said.
Mr. Winner, after a glance at the open door, picked up his son. There was the presence of wetness around his cheeks and mouth–he didn’t want to touch anything more, to save for evidence, but his helpless rage and fury that someone had almost stolen away with his precious son burned within him.
With a croaking exclamation, he positioned his son in his lap so that nothing would be wiped from his face. He could guess that it was chloroform or something of the sort, used to keep his son silent while he was stolen away.
He looked up at the door, wondering how the intruder had gotten in. The deadbolt and chain had been in place...everything had been locked and secured before he’d retired. How...?!
He looked back up at his girls, all of them afraid and silent. Then, back down at his son. But something large and round skittered past the stairway, and out the door. It looked like a mouse...with rabbit ears...
Too stunned with the near abduction of his son, Mr. Winner forgot that little instance and heard the sirens in the distance growing closer.
110101010101100
Noin brushed stray strands of white blond hair from her charge’s face. The near abduction had his father in a panic, and everyone was staying home, father included. Right now, he was directing a rather irate conversation with the detective working on the case, and from the sounds of it, he wasn’t very happy with the investigating efforts conducted. The man, dressed in black from Quatre’s accounts, had stolen into the house somehow. All the windows had been locked. The back door, the garage, the windows...how the man had gotten in, no one rightly knew. There were no fingerprints, no telltale evidence of the intruder even penetrating the household–they could only go with what the seven year old told them. Which wasn’t much.
Noin hugged Quatre close–the boy was terrified now, sleeping with his father at night. Mr. Winner was furious, and the girls were scared.
Earlier, Mr. Winner had made arrangements for his children to be sent to a trusted relative’s house until this investigation could turn up some clues. All the children were being sent out of state, Quatre included. Noin had a feeling she probably wouldn’t see him for awhile. So she was taking the time to hold him and stay with him until she went to her evening job.
“You’re going to be good, right?” she murmured against his hair. “No stories?”
“No stories, Miss Noin.”
“Stay out of trouble, all right? Your father will take care of you.”
“I know. I will.”
“Listen to your sisters, all right? Even when it seems like they’re being bossy...”
“I will, Miss Noin. Will you miss me?”
“You know I will, brat-boy. Who am I going to yell at, now?” she asked, kissing the top of his head.
“Your boyfriend.”
“That’s not as fun as yelling at you.”
“I’m going to miss you, Miss Noin. You were the only one that didn’t go away when I told you about my friends.”
“I’m going to miss you more, kid. I know how hard it is to be understood...”
“I’m going to leave Duo... I want to see him one more time...”
“I know, sweetie. Maybe, if you ask your father, he’ll take you over there so you can say good-bye. All right?”
“All right...”
Noin swept hair from forehead, and kissed him one more time. Then hugged him tightly. Breathing in his familiar scents, she sighed.
110101010101100
Foiled again! Catherine cursed from inside his pocket. They have things in their house that aid them, Trowa! What do they have in their house that aids them?
“How the fuck do I know?” Trowa cursed, pacing his room.
No one knew that it was he that had stolen into the Winners’ house. He’d been so careful! He had the chloroform–internet connections could get you anything–he had the DustBunnies to help him, and Blanket had even come along for the ride, to cover the boy. But things were destroyed at the sounds in the house...someone had been awake and had alerted the household to his presence.
Fortunately for him, no one saw him nor suspected him. Even if his adopted parents were still missing. Upon Catherine’s orders, he’d called in a missing person report, and filed one dutifully, acting the very image of inconsolable teenager that worried about his parents’ absence. The police were working on locating them, but Trowa was very hopeful that his earlier plans had worked. If they did...if they did, then he and Duo would be separated. And they’d be taken away from here. Placed in an orphanage, where he planned to escape. He’d become a runaway, and carry out the rest of his plans in peace. And Duo would be out of his hair.
His plans were coming into place, and he was very excited about it.
But a hitch in them had ruined his plans for Quatre–well, he figured he would work on that aspect later. It wasn’t as if Mr. Winner was a private person. For a top-notch lawyer, he was easily reached. His children were as well.
He figured he would get to Quatre later on–it didn’t matter. He had plans. Plans.
Things are turning out good for you, Trowa! Catherine then said joyously, her childish voice squeaking with joy. This is awesome! I’m so very happy for you, Trowa. So very happy...
“Things are working well, Catherine. Things are working very well...”
Let’s just hope those two miserable bastards are dead...are you sure they had no other relatives?
“Yes. And besides, it isn’t as if we’ll be passed onto them. We’d be wards of the state.”
Well, in that case–
“Trowa? Trowa, where’s mom and dad?”
Trowa came to a stop in his pacing, cringing. He turned, hearing Catherine hiss in annoyance. Duo stood in the doorway, dressed in his jammies and looking lost...innocent...sad. Trowa wanted to smack that expression from his face. It was probably the very same one that reeled in Sam and Helen. His rage caused his hand to shake, but Catherine restrained him with a whispered reminder that he was to be careful.
“I...I don’t know...Duo,” Trowa managed to scrunch out between tightly clenched teeth. “The police are looking for them.”
“I hope they aren’t hurt, Trowa. I would be really sad if they were,” Duo confessed, picking at the end of his braid.
Trowa...Trowa, I have an idea! Catherine suddenly whispered.
Trowa frowned down at him, then turned his back to him, dismissing him.
We can use Duo, Trowa! He and Quatre are best friends...they care for each other...we can use Duo to lure in Quatre...
“But, I–!”
Think about it, idiot! They’re ‘best friends’...and you know how they get when they’re together! Sappy mush best friend stuff...you can use him...Duo will do anything to please you, Trowa. Anything...
Trowa frowned at her whispered words. He turned, and studied Duo, who was looking sad and lost. Catherine continued to whisper her plans involving him, and the more she talked, the more things made sense.
After much indecision, Trowa snorted, and faced Duo once more. “Come inside, Duo. I want to talk to you.”
Duo brightened at this attention. He nodded, and shut the door behind him.
Trowa’s face, usually angry and sullen, turned a malicious smirk. Duo suddenly felt scared, and he was uncertain as he stared up at his adopted brother. There was the sound of giggling...high pitched giggling and hissing. Looking around himself, Duo suddenly saw grinning mouths from the shadows from Trowa’s room, emerging out from underneath his bed. Possibly millions of linty balls with rabbit ears were emerging from various places, and, panicked, Duo climbed onto the bed. But even the bed shifted, the blanket curling up and around him, like human arms. He tried to shriek, but the comforter covered his nose and mouth, effectively silencing any sound he made.
Breathing heavily, Duo’s eyes wide and fearful, he looked over at Trowa for some sort of assurance.
Trowa took out the pez dispenser that Duo had been looking for for the longest time, sitting it onto the top of his tv. It was somehow important; very important. As Trowa moved away from it, Duo looking at him in fear, it spoke to him.
Hello, Duo! Yes, yes, it’s me, Spidy! Well, not exactly. My name’s Catherine, and I’m here to tell you a story...so sit down, shut up, and if you think to talk over me or talk back, your brother’s going to hate you and have you sent away. Got it?
Duo nodded rapidly, glancing over at Trowa once more. Catherine chuckled in a delighted way, and began to talk.
110101010101100
Mr. Winner had the plans ready. His children were going to travel out of state. Their things were packed, and they were all leaving for the airport in two hours. His girls were saying their goodbyes to their friends, and Quatre was pleading with him to accompany him to Duo’s. With a reluctant sigh, Mr. Winner acquiesced, instructing his girls to lock the door and open it only to him. They started across the street, Quatre taking the lead. Mr. Winner noticed that Sam and Helen hadn’t come home for a few days...he wondered where they were.
Quatre knocked on the door and waited as Mr. Winner took his time climbing the sidewalk toward their house. He kept glancing back at his house, hoping that his girls were okay, that the intruder wasn’t going to take this chance to try and infiltrate when he was away. At the sound of the door opening, he turned, watching as his son stuttered to the older boy, Trowa. Duo was there suddenly, giving him a happy smile as he hurried out onto the porch.
“Hi, Mr. Winner!” he bellowed, as if the man were down the block. Mr. Winner winced, but greeted him, looking at Trowa.
Trowa sullenly glared at him, mumbling a greeting. Mr. Winner wasn’t offended by his attitude–he had teen girls of his own, and was familiar with the mood.
“Quatre will be moving, Duo,” he said to the braided boy. Duo looked immediately worried, glancing back at Trowa. Trowa suddenly left the doorway, muttering about something being left on the stove. Mr. Winner focused on Duo, never understanding the expression that had passed between the two boys. “He’s here to say goodbye...”
“You’re really leaving?” Duo cried, looking at Quatre.
Quatre nodded. “Yes. Someone tried to kidnap me, so dad’s sending me away.”
“Why? Who would take you?”
“I don’t know. But dad feels that I should not be here. So I am moving with my sisters. I don’t know where...”
“But–! But–! Who’ll be my best friend? I don’t know anyone else!” Duo cried, looking close to tears.
Quatre shrugged, fiddling with his shirt hem. “You have Heero, Duo. Can you tell him I said ‘goodbye’? I’m sorry that I cannot see him...but I don’t know where he lives. Can you tell him?”
“Yeah...but...I don’t want you to go. Trowa and I are going to miss you, Quatre.”
“I’ll miss you, too, Duo. Maybe we can see each other again in the future, ‘k?”
“Yeah...but I wish that you wouldn’t go...”
“I’m sorry, Duo. I really am.” Quatre then leaned forward, and hugged Duo tightly.
The little boy returned the embrace, burying his face against his face’s shoulder. He understood that Trowa wasn’t going to get his friend–in a way, he was very happy. In another, he was disappointed that his older brother wasn’t going to be happy. He tried to convey all that he felt for his friend. But he knew that Quatre would not feel it.
As they pushed away from each other, Duo caught a fleeting glance of Maria, Marcus, and Freddy. They were all standing close by, staring at him. Freddy was looking mean, as usual, smirking in a way that Duo knew was malicious and planning. Maria and Marcus looked relieved. He didn’t know where Dillon was.
Suddenly, he wondered that if Quatre left, would these guys still be around?
He looked at his friend, letting go of him.
“Well...I hope things work better for you,” he said on a sigh.
He saw Maria suddenly gasp. A police cruiser was pulling up to the curb, and an unmarked car was already parked across the street, a couple of detectives walking over with stern expressions. Duo blinked at them, Quatre looking over at them. Mr. Winner looked curious as he watched the plainclothes step onto the sidewalk.
“We’re here to speak to a...ah, Trowa Maxwell?” one of them called, looking at a notepad.
“TROWA!” Duo bellowed into the house. “Some guys are lookin’ for you!”
“C’mon, Quatre,” Mr. Winner said, gently pulling at his son.
Duo looked back at him, and was a little surprised to see Maria talking frantically to him. Quatre’s eyes widened, and he looked at Duo, then at Trowa as the teen walked out onto the porch. Trowa approached the plainclothes, who lowered their voices as they began speaking to him.
Duo watched, with some apprehension clear on his face, as Trowa stared at them in silence. Mr. Winner hesitated to leave, wondering if he should offer some assistance, when Quatre tugged at Duo’s arm.
“He’s bad, Duo!” he hissed, keeping his voice low. Mr. Winner caught it, though, looking at him sharply. “He’s bad! Maria said that he lies!”
Duo looked at him. His eyes were wide with disbelief, then darkened with rage. “Don’t talk about him that way!”
“No–! Please, Duo, listen to me! She said that he’ll hurt you! That he killed his mom and dad–!”
By now, the plainclothes had heard what Quatre was saying to Duo, and were looking at him with interest. With an embarrassed air, Mr. Winner stalked over and picked up his son.
“I’m so sorry, Duo,” he apologized.
“You shouldn’t tell lies like that!” Duo shouted at Quatre, furious. “Those are lies! LIES! You make up things in your head, you liar!”
Quatre looked shocked that Duo was telling him this. He stared at Duo in disbelief as one of the plainclothes walked over to intercept Mr. Winner.
“What’s he talkin’ about?” he asked, gesturing at the blond.
“I’m so sorry, officer,” Mr. Winner said on a sigh, shaking his head. “My son makes up stories...he does not know what happened. If I may inquire, is there something I can help you with?”
“He makes up stories, huh?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry, officer. I really must apologize for him. To you, too, Duo.”
“That’s right! They’re lies! That’s all he tells!” Duo shouted, face growing red. “My brother would not do that sort of thing! He loved mom and dad! And he loves me! He would never hurt anybody!”
“Duo–!” Quatre gasped. “But–! But–!”
“Quatre, ENOUGH!”
“But, dad! He was the one that beat up me and Duo!” Quatre cried, pointing at Trowa.
The sullen teen was looking over at him at the accusation. He looked at the other plainclothes officer, shaking his head. At Catherine’s whispered orders, he even caused his eyes to wet and eke out tears. Becoming distraught over the deaths of his parents, of whom he’d never cared for, was hard work. He’d have to reward himself later.
“He’s going to hurt you, Duo!” Quatre shouted at his friend, his father talking apologetically to the plainclothes. “He’s going to hurt you, and I can’t be here to stop him! You must listen to me, Duo! They tell me the truth! They’re telling me the truth!”
“Shut up, you liar!” Duo shrieked. “I hate you! I hate you! How dare you talk about him that way? I hope you go away for good, you liar!”
“DUO!”
“I’m sorry, officers, Trowa...Duo. If you have any questions, officer, or wish to talk to me about this situation, please–come over to my house. I’m afraid my son and my daughters are leaving out of state, and he’s upset that he’s leaving his friends behind...”
“He’s no friend of mine!”
“DUO! Duo, I’ve never lied to you!”
“Sure, uh...”
“Here’s my card...”
“Go away, liar! LIAR!”
“DUU~OOO!!!”
Duo dashed away tears from his face as Mr. Winner angrily carried off his son, who was sobbing in response from whatever the older man was growling. His blood was racing with immense sorrow and panic as he knew his adopted parents were dead–the men were telling Trowa this. And he knew Quatre was not lying–Trowa had told him everything last night.
But he had to do everything he could to please Trowa. He had to!
As he watched Mr. Winner and his son disappear into his house, he felt his anger ebb slightly. He looked over at Trowa, and smiled tearfully. Trowa’s answering lift of his eyebrow was enough to placate Duo’s nerves and feelings. He’d done good. His brother was proud of him.
110101010101100
Quatre never saw the ghosts again.
To Be Continued....