Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ No one else ❯ Two: Dorothy ( Chapter 2 )

No one else: Dorothy

~ * ~ * ~

Rating: PG, just to be sure

Warning: AU, Angst, YAOI, Dorothy's POV

Pairing: 13x6 (13x5 implied)

Author's notes: The second of a set of three; 'No one else: Zechs' follow-up.

Disclaimer: Bandai, the Sotsu Agency and TV Asahi do own Gundam Wing, Zechs and Treize, not me:( No harm intended. No money made.

Special thanks to Marilyn, who beta-read this story. Her kindness and her will to help simply amaze me. Of course, all remaining mistakes are mine.

~ * ~ * ~

The sun shines brightly outside, but it's much darker in here. Sorrow fills the air, I can feel it on my skin. This place is a lonely, cold home.

He is sitting at the table, unmoving. His long fingers are loosely wrapped around a glass of water, and I can't help but think that this is the price of peace. I watch him, and I only see the empty shell of what used to be a great man.

"Good afternoon, Milliard," I say. He glances at me, but he looks right through me as if I weren't there.

I put down my bags, holding his evasive gaze. "I am here because Doctor Po told me you needed help. So you better get your manners back and show me my rooms. Obviously, I'm here to stay."

My words are harsh, and my tone is icy, but I don't know how else I can get him to react. I don't do genuine kindness on command and pity is something we both despise.

He appears to gather his thoughts at last, and I can feel his attention focusing on me, the heat of a short-lived glare running over me in a weak attempt to discourage me. But I stay still and wait, so he stands up and, leaving the dinning room, he climbs up the stairs. I follow him and, as I cross the hallway, Quatre silently leaves with Trowa.

Once upstairs I see him standing before an open door. "Welcome," he says simply with a vague gesture toward the room. And then he mutely goes back downstairs, leaving me alone with myself.

Well, it's a start. Better than nothing, I suppose.

It takes me the whole afternoon to settle in and set things the way I like. It requires a lot of effort, but once I'm done, I'm satisfied. The house is small, and so is my room, but it's cosy. I open all the windows I can find, letting in the sunlight and the fresh air, and it helps to ease the atmosphere. I discover in the process that Milliard's room is at the opposite side of the house, but it doesn't surprise me. He has always valued his privacy.

And to think of it, that's probably why I am the one stuck here. Quatre and Duo are just colleagues to him, former enemies he respects. Noin... I can easily imagine her following him around all day, her kind and caring attentions and her continual questions driving him crazier than he already is. And Relena... The fact that she was surprised he refused her invitation is revealing in itself.

Around seven, I go to the kitchen and find it empty, and since he doesn't have any servants, save the old woman who cleans up the place once a week, the meal is not done. I sigh and open the fridge, which is empty as well, except for a couple of beers, eggs, some oranges and milk. No wonder he's so skinny.

I get the phone and order a pizza. Then I start to search for my missing host, finding him in the library, the lights off, sitting in the dark. "Milliard, where is your wallet?"

"Why?" a flat voice asks me.

"Because *I* do need to eat to survive. And since you apparently forgot to buy food, I ordered a pizza. Now, you don't expect me to pay for it, do you?"

He doesn't answer, but I see him standing up and coming toward me. "Here," he says, handing me a few bills. "Sorry about the food."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it tomorrow." I take his hand before he gets away. "Where do you think you're going? Dinner's coming."

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are."

I turn around and, without letting go of him, I tow him to the dinning room. He protests faintly, tugging at his hand, but his heart is not in it. I sit him at the table, put a plate and a serviette in front of him, and pour him a beer. Then I smirk to myself. And there I was criticizing Noin. If I don't pay attention, I will get out of character.

He eats what I put on his plate without a word, never reaching for a piece on his own. I feel like a mother with a stubborn child, watching him closely so he actually does eat. I just hope this child will grow up fast, because this mother is not a very patient one.

When I am finished, I take out a little bottle and open it, then hand him a tiny pill. "Doctor Po's prescription." He doesn't react at first, and I begin to wonder if he understood me. "You must take it, Milliard."

"I don't want to." His voice is emotionless, matter-of-fact.

"We don't always do what we want." I get him a glass of water and observe him as he takes his medication. He puts down an empty glass seconds later and looks up at me.

He didn't swallow that pill. I am sure of it. I can see the underlying challenge in those icy eyes, the unspoken desire to be caught in order to retaliate, to fight back. For a second, I am tempted to give him that fake relief. A strong discussion would be a good distraction, an escape from his morose thoughts - but it would be just that, an escape. If I do that now, he might start to rely on me, and that wouldn't be good. I can't mourn Treize's death for him.

"That's a good boy," I finally say, gently patting him on the shoulder. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll go rest a little upstairs. The day has been long. You can do the dishes."

I leave the dinning room without looking back, heading for my bed. The day has been long indeed. And the next ones won't be better, I'd wager.

~ * ~

It's still dark. The sun has not risen yet.

Why did I wake up?

Then I hear it again. A soft moan. Milliard.

I silently leave my room and head for his. His door his half-open, so I carefully peek in. Everything is dark, but I can make out his silhouette among the shadows. The sheets are on the floor and he lays curled up on the bed, holding his pillow tightly against his chest.

I enter the room. Should I wake him? He looks so miserable, like a lost, hopeless child.

I come nearer. He wouldn't appreciate it if I woke him. He has not much left to hold on to but his pride, and to find me at his bedside after a nightmare wouldn't be of much help. Yet, I am here to take care of him. I can't leave him like this.

I pick up the sheets and, as I cover him with them, I hear a faint sob. The war is over, but there is no peace for you, is there, Milliard?

I sit on the edge of the bed and look at him. His face is pale and tormented, and I can see his cheekbones slightly flush with fever in the moonlight. I run a hand over his forehead. It's hot and damp. I reach out for his hair. It used to feel like silk, shiny and fresh, but now it is dry, and dull like his eyes. But I keep caressing it, my fingers playing with long, white gold locks. He seems to calm down under my touches and his whimpers soften within minutes.

He gradually relaxes. The pain on his face slowly fades away, and the pillow is more loosely held. The dream has gone, and he is sound asleep. I stay here a little longer though, grateful to see that, for now at least, the lost child has turned into a peaceful angel.

~ * ~

Politics, conferences, colonies' status. Relena's opinions, the Preventers' actions, the world leaders' views. It's all over the papers. And it's quite boring.

I take a sip of my cup of coffee as I turn the pages. New peace, old lies. I hope Milliard will get up soon. I need money to go to the grocery store. When I checked on him earlier, he was still deeply asleep. I think it's his first good night of sleep in days, if not weeks. My poor, sweet prince.

There is a knock at the front door. I frown as I get up. Who could that be? The Gundam pilots? They said they would stop by someday soon to see how he was doing. But when I open the door, I face Noin. She is pale and her hair is tousled, and she stares at me with far too bright eyes. "I want to see Zechs." Her voice is low, almost a whisper.

"He is asleep. Do you want to come in and wait until he wakes up?" Being polite can't kill me, can it?

"I want to see him now."

"I told you..."

"I don't have time for your silly games! I want to see him!" Her voice is much louder this time, and I fear she might wake him.

Since she claims to be Milliard's best friend, I resist the urge to shut the door and leave her there, on the porch. "Lower your voice, idiot. You can't see him now, he is asleep. I..."

"I am the one who should be at his side!" Something close to despair creeps into her voice and I shiver. She's starting to make me feel uncomfortable.

"He thought differently," I manage to say calmly, my tone stern. "Maybe you should go."

"He needs me." And much lower, "I won't let you hurt him."

I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

A shadow darkens her face and for a second she looks like a snake ready to attack, but then her face changes completely. "Fine," she says with a gentle smile. "I will come back later." And she leaves.

I go back inside, making sure the door is well shut. What on earth was that? Is Lady Une's illness contagious? That would be interesting to see... and this proves that Milliard is apparently not the only one who could use Sally Po's aid. I sit again at the table, but my coffee is cold.

"Dorothy?"

I look up and see him standing in the doorway. His clothes hang on him as if he is too small for them, and he wraps his arms around himself as if he is freezing. He seems so young... seeing him like this makes it easy to forget he is almost twenty years old. "Slept well?"

"Yes." He pauses, and then adds, "Thank you."

"Come here. I made pancakes."

"Thought there was no food in the house."

"I found some hidden flour. With eggs and milk, it's a delight."

He sits and I serve him. I hope he won't get use to it. "Did you hear about the troubles on L3? It sounds more and more like a rebellion..." And I start talking, babbling about the meaningless news I read. He barely listens, but since I barely know what I'm saying, it's not a problem. As long as he feels he's not alone. That's why I'm here, isn't it?

~ * ~

He is in the library again. I think it's a kind of shelter for him and that the books are his shield against pain. Or memories.

I pull the curtains open and we both blink at the sudden rush of light, but he doesn't protest. He simply continues to stare at the novel he's holding.

He possesses many books. Most of them are very old, from the days before the colonies. I randomly pick one, and I smile.

Hamlet. How fitting, here in the house of the Peacecraft son.

I go to the window, leafing through the pages in the warmth of the sun's rays. Same story, different actors. Classics never get old-fashioned.

I look outside, my mind wandering. Hamlet... Ophelia's suicide. I frown, thinking. I had never been worried about that one. I mean, Milliard's suicide. Truth be told, I never thought of it. In the end, that solution is the coward's way out, and Milliard is many things, but certainly not a coward.

On the other hand though, it is said that most of suicides are actually calls for help. Milliard is indeed in need of help.

I will have to be careful, then. Pay closer attention to him. I wonder if there are guns in the house...

I frown, coming back to reality as I notice that an unfamiliar car is parked in front of the house. I look harder. Someone's in the driver seat... Noin! And she stares, unmoving, at the house's windows.

She doesn't get out. She just... stares. What does she want? I shiver.

She leaves minutes later, but still, I close the window. I don't know what she wants with Milliard, but I surely won't let her alone with him.

~ * ~

He gets out of the car as soon as we arrive home, but I don't. Leaning over, I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, eyes closed. I am tired.

I have been here for six days, but it feels much longer. Each day is like the previous, and each night I find myself waking up at the sound of muffled sobs. I talk so much during the day my throat is sore. I bought pastilles yesterday. And although I don't mind the night watches, silently sitting beside him and calming him down, they are exhausting.

On the bright side though, he seems to benefit from it. We've just come back from his first meeting with Sally Po and she told me, before we left, that he already looked better. She even smiled at me, which is a first. I know she believed Noin would have been more suited for this job.

Speaking of which... Maybe I should have told Doctor Po about the 'incident' at the door and her 'visit' two days ago.

"He's so terrible you sleep in the car?" a cheerful voice suddenly asks, with a hint of laughter so irresistible that I find myself smiling in spite of myself.

"Not sleeping, just resting my eyes." I sit up straight as I speak, and I see the five pilots standing in the driveway. I get out of the car. "So my dear mighty warriors, how's peace?"

"Shaky but going," Duo answers me with a grin. "Certainly better than our friend," he adds, and his expression becomes serious.

"How is he doing?" Quatre asks. "Miss Po told us he was a bit better."

She told them? What about the doctor-patient confidentiality? I'll have to talk with her next week. "That's what she says. Want to come in?"

"Of course."

We are, moments later, sitting at the dinner table, except for Heero. He stands near the window by himself. "He has nightmares," he says in his usual expressionless tone.

Quite insightful for someone so uninterested. "Speaking from experience?" I ask. He turns toward me, and I see shadows clouding his eyes. Thought so. "Every night."

"Shouldn't the pills..." Quatre begins, but he is cut off by Wufei.

"Yes, they should, but you're assuming he's taking them."

I don't answer that. I don't need to. "What about the murder? Any progress?"

"Not much," Trowa tells me.

"Well... I don't think it matters much for now," I sigh. "He needs to rest, that's for sure. He's so thin and so tense... Maybe we should go somewhere... away from the world's trouble." I consider for a second telling them about Noin, but I dismiss the idea. Maybe she was just upset that he didn't want her by his side at a time like this. She'll get over it. She's probably heading back for Sank right now.

"Is that how strong former Oz officers are?" Wufei suddenly snorts with unexpected venom. "Going crazy once the fighting is over and running away from their actions' consequences? I expected better than that from Zechs Merquise."

I look up at him in shocked, angry silence. He's so sure of himself, without any doubt muddling his mind, standing strong and proud above other mortals. "Are you so perfect yourself, Chang Wufei, that you never lost sight of your goals?" I retort. Like anyone else he has weaknesses. I just have to find one, and then he won't be so contemptuous anymore.

His nose twitches, but he doesn't answer me.

"Try to understand, Wufei," Quatre pleads softly in order to calm us down. "He has lost a loved one."

"Right," he sneers in return with mocking irony.

Quatre isn't troubled at all, though. Among them all he is the one that puzzles me the most. He looks small and fragile, but it's just an illusion, really. He leans toward Wufei, his smile gentle and sad. "Have you never fought someone you loved?" he asks still, so softly I almost don't hear it.

But I can't miss the effect those words have on Wufei. He freezes in an instant, his face going very pale, and he drops his gaze, looking at the bare table. And as I notice these changes, I feel my heart hardening and my blood growing colder. You have, haven't you, Wufei? And I'd bet you even killed him, up there in space.

An uncomfortable and heavy silence settles in. They don't dare to look at each other, even less at me. Only Quatre sits relaxed, observing everyone with frank eyes, as if he hadn't realized the power of his last words. Another illusion.

We suddenly hear footsteps coming toward us and, before we can say anything, Milliard enters the kitchen. Their eyes immediately lock onto him, following his every move as he pours himself some water. Clad in black, he looks fragile and wan, as if he were made of glass.

He's completely oblivious to his surroundings for awhile, but he finally notices them once he's finished drinking. He stares at them for a second, as if he can't decide what to do. But then the ghost of a polite, detached smile plays on his lips and he gracefully greets them, his voice a hoarse whisper. They answer him as politely, but as he leaves, Wufei stands up, and an unpleasant knot forms in my throat. I see Milliard slowing down his pace imperceptibly, his body tensing and his eyes going blank. But Wufei sits down without a word, and Milliard exits the kitchen as silently as he came in.

My attention is focused on the Chinese pilot though. He is still pale, but he stares at the now closed door with a look full of anger and hurt that I don't want to understand.

The others don't look too well either. Quatre keeps smiling softly at me, but his eyes are darkened with pain. "I think we should go," he manages to say.

"I think so, too," I reply.

They all get up and go to the front door. "I'll come by in a few days, if you want me to," Quatre whispers to me as we follow the others. I look at him, surprised, and he tilts his head a little, awaiting my answer.

"I'd like that," I hear myself saying before I can think.

I stop in my tracks, stunned. But Quatre simply nods, smiling, and follows his friends out of the house, closing the door behind him.

~ * ~

I look at the dinner table, hands on my hips, and, as silly as it is, I am proud of myself. The carrots are probably not cooked enough, the chicken a little too dry and the green salad not fresh enough, but *I* made it all. Incredible how the most trivial tasks can be satisfying in difficult times. And besides, Milliard pays so little attention to what he eats that it could taste like garbage and he wouldn't notice it.

I put my apron aside and go upstairs to his room. I think for a second about knocking at the closed door, but discard it. Instead I open it at full force and barge in without a warning, chanting, "Milliard! Dinner's ready!"

I've startled him. A book lays open in his lap, but he was staring outside at the sunset. I go to him and, taking his hands, I pull him up. I feel happy tonight. "You are the host, I am your guest, and a good host eats with his guest. Leave that book and come downstairs. You're not reading it anyway."

He follows me in silence and sits in front of his plate. He eats without a word, eyes empty, caught up in his thoughts. He doesn't taste anything, I'd wager. I sigh, and my good mood goes astray. I should try to get him out this dark, depressive state of his, but I'm running out of ideas. I even begin to wonder if me being here is of any help at all. Sometimes, I wish I could just go to him and... well, slap him hard or hug him tight, I'm not sure yet.

The doorbell suddenly rings and he stands up before I can say anything, going to the door in long, fluid steps. I follow him as fast as I can. My hands are cold, but I am calm. If it's Noin and she wants a confrontation, she won't be disappointed. There is no way she's going to mess him up any more than he is.

But a more pleasant view awaits me at the door. A nice young man stands on the porch, a delicious blush on his cheeks, shooting shy glances at Milliard, who doesn't see it, of course. Well, let's see what I can do. "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? Or tea?"

Milliard spins around, and he frowns at me. I feel my smile growing wider. He reacted! Maybe there's hope after all.

"I don't want to disturb your meal," the man says politely.

He wears a police uniform, and Milliard's holding a piece of paper. I guess this is the young officer that answered Milliard's call on the murder night. He's no Treize, but he's not bad, either. And maybe he's just what Milliard needs. "We had just finished, had we not, Zechs?"

"Yes." But his voice is so cold, it could have frozen water in the desert. The eager look in the officer's eyes fades away as he backs off slightly. I don't blame him. Milliard can be very impressive when he wants to... especially when he's upset.

"I would like to, but I am awaited," the officer replies. "I am truly sorry."

"Don't be!" I exclaim. "Maybe another time?"

He glances at Milliard, blush deepening a little, and says, "Yes, maybe. Have a nice evening, both of you. And don't forget to call me if you remember anything, Mister Merquise."

"I will. Good bye." And he goes back inside without a word.

I sigh. Well, that wasn't meant to be, I suppose. Too bad.

I find him in the kitchen, doing the dishes. I help him. "He is cute," I finally say. "I'm sure he would have liked to come in and sit with us." I feel him tensing. He doesn't want to talk - no, to think about it.

"He was awaited," he answers flatly, dismissing whatever I wanted to say with that simple sentence.

"So he said," I mutter back.

Once everything is put away, I get him his pill and a glass of water. If I don't, he won't take it. Or, rather, pretend to take it. Maybe someday he'll choke and swallow it for good. I keep my eyes on him as he drinks the water. He's so aloof, hiding somewhere out of reach. And it suddenly hurts, quite painfully at that, to realize that he won't let me in. He won't let me help him. Maybe he just can't, but it hurts anyway.

I dislike feeling like that, vulnerable and helpless. Pain is a liability. I want to say something, a few words that would cut trough his skin, hurt him a little. But he's got that look in his ice blue eyes... hopeless, and passionless, and I feel my heart sinking.

No, I won't stand feeling like this before him. I turn around and get out of the kitchen, leaving him alone. It's not the best of solutions, but I can't do anything else right now.

~ * ~

He's screaming tonight, but I don't mind. I wasn't sleeping anyway.

I silently get up and head for his room, but as I look in, I realize he's awake this time. I can't possibly go in. The best I could do would be to go back to my bed, but I can't bring myself to do so. The urge to sit beside him, to ease his pain, as I did for the past week, is too strong.

I close my eyes. I don't understand this. How come I feel so protective about someone who couldn't care less? What did I miss? Why did I agree to come here, in the first place?

A good question, to which I have no answer. I suggested my name to Sally Po on a whim. I never thought it would come to this - to me actually caring that much for him.

I breathe out softly. No, I hadn't planned this, but it's done, now, and I won't leave him. I will bear the pain and I will stay with him. I will keep my promise.

I go back to bed sadder, but also somewhat relieved.

~ * ~

I sit in the library, lights off. I've pulled the curtains closed, so it's very dark in here, and the sun doesn't come in at all.

I am tired, but I'm not sleepy. It's a strange feeling. I'm under the impression that it's how Milliard feel most of the time. I smirk. Well, isn't that funny. I'm becoming as distressed as the one I'm supposed to take care of.

"I thought you'd be in here," a soft voice says from the doorway. I shut my eyes briefly. Quatre.

"Really? How come?"

"I don't know. Just felt it." He comes in and sits beside me, on the couch. "You don't mind? The door was unlocked and no one answered..."

"That's all right."

"Where's Zechs?"

"He left earlier. He didn't tell me where he was going, but I think he was heading for the little street where he found the body. And he'll probably go to that building too."

"Why?"

"I don't know. A police officer came by, last night, and gave him the letter, or a copy of it. Guess he wants to do his own personal investigation. He was brilliant at Oz, you know? The finest. Would've solved this without any problem, I'm sure of it." I stop there. If I continue like this, I will start telling stories about the summers I spent with Treize and him as a child. Dwelling over the past isn't healthy. "Anyway, the very fact that *he* decided to get out of the house is good in itself. I think."

"And what about you?"

"I'm fine." I glance at him. He doesn't move nor speak. I sigh. "I've been better, but I'll survive."

"Maybe we could go out too. It's lunch time." His voice is shy, all of sudden.

I hesitate for a minute. I'd rather stay here, but that just sounds a little too much like Milliard. "Ok. He said he'll be back by 2PM."

"Then we will too."

We get up and leave the dark room, heading for the daylight and a good meal.

~ * ~

He hasn't came back.

It's midnight now, and he's still not back. Quatre sits on the couch in the living room, chatting casually, but I don't pay attention to him. Standing near the window, I stare outside, my heartbeat becoming more frantic with each passing minute.

"We should call the police," Quatre suddenly says. "Or the Preventers."

"Yes. Something has happened. He should've been here by now." Strange how calm my voice is. But then, it's the easiest way to deal with this. To separate myself in two, and keep the fear deeply buried inside. I can always manage it later.

"I will make the calls. You should go and rest. You look exhausted."

I turn around to face him. "You must be kidding me."

He approaches me slowly, his eyes full of kindness, and I fight the urge to spit bitter words I know I would regret. "There's nothing you can do right now, Dorothy. Go rest while you can. When the search begins, we'll need you to be in good shape."

His voice is gentle, and his words are right. And yet I don't want to go to bed. It's irrational, completely insane, but I feel I would fail Milliard if I did so. "I can't, Quatre."

"All right, then," he sighs. "Come and sit here. I will take care of everything, just make yourself comfortable."

I slump down onto the couch, eyes turned toward the windows, my throat tight, and he leaves the room to alert the police.

~ * ~

It seems I have fallen asleep after all. The sunlight fills the library, brightly streaming through the open windows. It's almost insulting. The house is not empty, though. I hear noises of people walking throughout the place, whispering to each other, moving the furniture. I get up.

The kitchen is full of Preventer agents. Quatre greets me with a glass of orange juice. "How are you? Did we wake you?"

"I'm fine, and no, you didn't, although I wish you had. What's happening? Have you found him yet?"

"No," he answers. "But we were about to leave to check out the building on the 9th Avenue, since you told me yesterday you thought that's where he was going to. Do you want to join us?"

"That's not something to ask, Quatre. I'd come even if you didn't want me to."

He smiles at me, but he looks tired, and I realize with some remorse that he probably has been up all night doing what I should've been taking care of myself. But then he tilts his head, his smile widening a little, and he whispers, "Don't blame yourself for that. I'm fine. A sleepless night won't kill me."

I nod, unable to speak. Instead, I drink my juice and observe the moving crowd. Computers are set on the table, strangers come and go, exchanging papers, discs and data. I see Duo tapping sharply on a keyboard and staring intently at the screen as if it contained the secrets of life. I don't see the others pilots, though.

We leave minutes later, and I shiver when I get a look at the building Milliard might have visited. It's an eerie place, grey and filthy. The windows are broken and stare down at us like empty, black eye-sockets. It's a chilling sight.

They allow me to go inside, as long as I don't touch anything. Considering the state of the place, it shouldn't be too hard.

I start to wander on my own, leaving Quatre to lead the operation. I never thought such a little, kind man could so thoroughly and easily take control of the situation. That's probably why I lost the battle, back on Libra. I underestimated him. Like everyone else, most likely.

Dust covers everything, and my footsteps are clearly visible on the ground. And not just mine... I follow the other's path, careful not to step on it. "Quatre?" I call. "I think I found something."

"What is it?"

"Footprints in the dust. They appear to lead to the basement."

"Coming! Wait for us, it could be dangerous!"

But I don't wait and go downstairs. For all I know, Milliard might be down there dying.

Which is not the case. No one's in sight, just cold, grey concrete walls. Wavering neon lightens the place, making it looks deadly empty. But that doesn't stop the Preventers as they begin to study every corner of the basement.

"What's this?" someone suddenly asks. "Looks like a cross... a funny one."

A cross? I come nearer and lean over to see the little thing on the ground. A small, Egyptian-style cross, made of cheap gold, with a tiny, ice blue stone in the middle of it. Eternity, with in its centre a glimpse of what was hidden behind dark glasses, and later a steel mask.

I fall to my knees, my hand ghosting above it without touching it. What is it doing here? It should be lost in space. Treize never took the little jewel off from the day Milliard offered it to him.

"Dorothy?" So much worry in his voice. He probably thinks I'm about to faint. It's rather insulting. He should know better than that.

I stand up, ignoring the helping hand he offers me. "The cross belonged to Treize. Milliard gave it to him when they were both very young." I look at it silently for a minute. "It shouldn't be here."

Preventers agents delicately take the small cross and put it in a plastic bag. Then another voice exclaims, "Here! I think I found some blood." Some blood... just a few little drops that probably belong to some homeless person, but they take samples of it nonetheless. It's a wonder the agent saw them in the first place. I step back a little to get a better view of the basement. Every centimetre is being scrutinized and nothing is left aside.

They are efficient.

We may actually have a chance to find him.

~ * ~

I stare at the com unit, undecided. Yet someone has to do it.

I sigh. Yes, someone has to do it. Before it's all over the news.

I dial Relena's number. Soon, the screen brightens and a face appears. I clench my teeth. It's Noin, in her lovely imperial guard uniform. "What can I do for you, Dorothy?" Her voice is cold and official. I'd bet she's not really happy to see me. Well, the feeling is mutual.

"I have to speak with Miss Relena."

"She is busy right now."

"It's about her brother."

She blinks and leans forward. "What is it?"

"I want to speak with Miss Relena."

She frowns, mumbling something I don't understand, then adds, "All right. I'll get her." And she disappears.

Seconds later, I have Relena in front of me. She considers me sternly as if I was an annoying brat who is wasting her precious time, and feel myself growing colder. I had planned to be nice for once, but I think I'll reconsider.

"What is it, Dorothy?"

"Hi, Miss Relena!" I answer innocently. "How are you? I want to congratulate you. I've heard that Sank is doing absolutely fine under your wise guidance."

"Dorothy!" She sounds impatient. I can't help a small smirk.

"My, did I disturb you from important business? I'm so sorry!"

She breathes in loudly, in an attempt to control herself, I suppose. "What is it, Dorothy?" she repeats.

"I'm afraid I have bad news, Miss Relena. Your brother has disappeared."

She doesn't react at first, but she sits back in her chair, crossing her arms, looking down. A thoughtful expression ghosts on her face, chased away by fatigue. Then she peers up at me, and for a second her eyes shine, but the odd gleam soon vanishes.

Was she about to cry?

"This is bad news indeed." She stays silent for a few seconds. "It wouldn't have happened if he had been in Sank, with me and Noin."

She blames me. The witch. "Untrue, and unfair, Miss Relena." Still, her words hurt badly. What if she's right? I can't stand that thought. It sounds so true... But then I straighten up. I won't let her get away with it. She hurts me, I hurt her. "It seems that Sankian nobility might be involved."

"Sankian nobility? What do you mean?" There is so much panic and astonishment in her voice that I almost burst into laughter. Amazing how a little lie can become very entertaining... and satisfying. "Answer me, Dorothy!"

"Lady Une has all the details. Contact her if you want to know more." And I close the channel. I'm sure Une will be able to handle her.

I lean back in my chair. I close my eyes and anger slowly fills me as I recall the conversation. She hadn't been concerned at all about her brother's safety. No questions on his well being, on his state of mind, on how it happened, on what were the investigation's results so far. Nothing of that. Instead, she had searched for someone to put the fault on, to hold responsible. And she had picked me.

And I hadn't reacted as coolly as I should have.

"It didn't go well?" Quatre stands in the doorway.

"She's not even troubled," I spit at him. "He's her own brother, and *I* am more worried for him than she is."

"You know him better. You're closer to him." I glare at him. It doesn't excuse anything, and he knows it. "Listen, it must be the shock or something. It's a lot of work, leading a whole country while promoting and strengthening peace."

True, but I disagree. He's too nice.

~ * ~

Two weeks. I think I will go crazy.

No ransom. Nothing. A complete blackout.

Heero says that given these facts, he's probably dead by now. His optimism is just lovely. So relieving. And Trowa says that he might simply have taken off on his own. I don't believe that. He would have called. Left a note. Something. He's honor and politeness embodied, for God's sake.

Milliard's prints have been found on the cross, fresh ones at that, along with those of the still unidentified body. And the drops of blood match Milliard's group. We're still awaiting the results of the DNA tests, but I already know this blood is his. I feel it deep in my heart. He had been there, and someone had attacked him.

The Preventers are doing their best, I guess. I follow the slow-paced investigation through Quatre. The dear man hasn't left, and he works here from his laptop. As for me, I wait. And I slowly go insane. They told me to rest... to rest! They don't understand I cannot stay like this, useless. I must do something. I am trapped in this little, cosy house with my worries and my doubts, and I watch the days go by, frozen in time, awaiting the phone call that will free me.

This situation is excruciating.

I only hope they find him soon and bring him back safely. I don't want to lose him. He's the only close family I have left.

~ * ~

"Dorothy!"

Quatre barges in my room without a warning, in a very untypical way. Sitting on the edge of the window, I look up at him and he blushes almost instantly. But he doesn't waste time with excuses and goes directly to the point, "We might have found him!"

"What?" I jump on my feet, my heart racing. Finally. "How? Where?"

"Remember the building, on the 9th Avenue? How it's owner didn't seem to exist?" I nod. "Duo and Heero tracked him down. They spent days on it, but they finally discovered that a man named Alaroff owned it." I keep silent, and he adds, "Alaroff is from a very old Sankian family. He's one of Relena's councillors."

"And?" I briefly recall my conversation with Relena. Sankian nobility. So much for a lie.

"He owns many other buildings, all over the world. He's very wealthy. This morning, Duo found out that another of them is here, near Bremen, and that he apparently went over there incognito a few days ago. Add to that the recent ins and outs of cash in his personal accounts, his sudden trips to Lord-knows-where..."

"That doesn't prove anything."

"No, but it's worth checking it out, don't you think?"

Of course I do. I follow him downstairs as we hurry out of the house.

~ * ~

All the others are there. The other four pilots, Sally Po. Even Lady Une.

This is serious.

"Quatre?" Lady Une asks as we come nearer. There is disapproval in the Lady's eyes when she looks at me.

"I thought it was for the best," he simply answers.

He disobeyed orders having me here, I realize. I suddenly feel very grateful. "I won't be in your way, don't you worry."

She considers me sternly for awhile, but I hold her gaze just as firmly, and a small, sad smile plays on her lips. "No, I won't worry." She pauses, then adds, "And, by the way, next time you want to play with Miss Relena's mind, please don't involve me."

"She actually called you?"

"Yes." Her laconic voice says more than needed, and I start to laugh.

"Please forgive me, Lady."

"Apologies accepted." She turns her attention to the building in front of us and to the agents standing near, awaiting orders. "All right, let's do this."

She gives brief and clear orders, dispatching her troops around the target in a coldly efficient way. She knows what she's doing. I stand back, watching - and hoping - as they prepare themselves to enter the building. Lady Une is a competent and strong leader, but I am glad we have bits of Colonel Une with us today.

When everyone's ready, she gives out the signal and they go in, in swift, ordered and silent waves. If there's anyone in there, they don't stand much of a chance. Once they've all disappeared, I sit on the hood of the closest car and do what I appear to do best lately - I wait.

It seems to take an eternity, and I am about to get in there myself, when I hear a gunshot. I stop moving and cross my fingers in a childish, but uncontrollable move. Then, after another eternity, I see people starting to come out.

They are smiling. Wide, wild smiles, and very bright eyes. Some have such an astonished expression that I frown in concern. They talk loudly, their voices excited like children on Christmas eve : "...unbelievable..." "...truly are incredible men..." "...not even death..."

What on Earth did they find? "Hey, you!" I yell to the nearest agent. "What's happening? What have you found? Is Milliard all right?" But he simply looks at me in silence, and then points to the front door of the building.

I turn to look for myself, and I freeze.

Milliard is there. Paler and thinner than ever, looking about to pass out, but alive. His hair is tousled and filthy, long golden locks hanging in front of closed eyes, and his clothes are dirty and about to fall off his skinny form. And his arms are clenched around another very thin person, holding him in a desperate grasp.

Holding Treize in a desperate grasp. And Treize holds him back just as tightly. I stare at him for many minutes, unmoving - unable to move - feeling on my face the same astonished expression I saw on the others' faces as a wide, fascinated smile slowly stretches my lips.

They are surrounded by many agents, and Lady Une and Doctor Po guide them throughout the crowd to a car nearby. I'd like to get up and go to them, but my legs are just too weak for now. Still, I watch their every move, noticing how exhausted they both look, how protective Treize acts when Sally Po wants to get a better look at Milliard. The world starts to spin on its axis, and it feels good. I hadn't realized it had stopped turning.

"Dorothy? Are you all right?" And Quatre suddenly appears at my side, concerned, with that hesitant smile of his, and I start to laugh. And that feels good too.

"I've never been better."

He considers me a moment, then says, "Lady Une and Doctor Po are taking them to the hospital. Maybe we should go too."

"Yes! I want to see them. Both." I can't stop smiling. "But you'll have to help me a little..."

He offers me a hand, and this time I take it. My knees are still weak, but I manage to get in the car in one piece. He sits in the driver's seat and takes us to the hospital. To my family.

~ * ~

It doesn't take long for the news to spread. By the time we arrive, the hospital hallway is full of reporters and cameras, everyone jostling everyone, speaking, asking, filming. Security guards and Preventer agents maintain order with great effort, but barely contain the chaos.

But we slip through the crowd easily enough and a nurse kindly indicates to us Treize's and Milliard's room. "Were we awaited?" I ask.

"Yes."

I glance at him, but I'm not really surprised.

We sit outside their room and wait. Doctors and nurses come and go, but there is no frantic agitation, so I guess no life is threatened. I lean back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. I am tired and yet I feel incredibly light. It's as if I have gotten rid of a heavy weight I hadn't known was there. I close my eyes. I don't mind waiting this time.

~ * ~

"Dorothy?"

Someone is poking me and it's annoying. "What...?" I look up and see Quatre smiling down at me, amusement written all over his face. "Why are you laughing at me?" I straighten up and sit, fixing my hair in an absent-minded move.

"You're a very difficult person to wake up, Dorothy."

"To wake up? I slept?"

"For five hours. I hope you don't mind that I moved you to a couch?"

Indeed, we are in a hall no more, but in a dark room filled with couches, chairs, tables and a few board games. A waiting room. "Why do you wake me now?"

"Because Treize has awaken and he asked for you."

I jump to my feet, now fixing my clothes. "What about Milliard?"

"He's still deeply asleep. Probably will be for some time, too. But he's in no danger."

"Good."

I get to the room in no time. It's dark and the curtains are pulled closed. The bed near the windows is empty and the sheets are neatly pushed aside. "Please come in, Dorothy," a soft voice whispers.

I enter. He is sitting next to the second bed, where Milliard is sound asleep. I take another chair and sit next to them. Then the strangest thing happens. I don't know what to say. Worse, I feel tears filling my eyes. And I don't know where to look. If I stare at the silhouette lying in the bed, the silhouette of the one I spent every minute of the last two weeks worrying about, I will burst into tears. And if I try to peer up at Treize, I might very well start to cry like a child. So I settle for my hands, crossed in my lap. I never realized how long and slender my fingers were.

"I wanted to thank you," Treize suddenly whispers, breaking an uncomfortable silence. "For what you did for him. Sally Po told me. It must have been difficult."

Difficult? A small version of hell on Earth, yes. "It was nothing, really. And more selfish than you probably imagine."

I feel him smile and I somehow find the strength to look at him. He is much thinner than he used to be. His cheekbones are more prominent, and dark circles run under his eyes, which are quite bright. Still, he looks calm and poised. A leader among men. And a living mystery. "And how are you yourself?" I ask, and I am surprised to hear my voice so even.

"Quite fine, given the circumstances." He pauses, then asks, "How has he been?"

That's the true reason he wanted me here. I sigh in silence, relieved and saddened at the same time. My emotions seem to be on an unstoppable roller coaster, lately. It's exhausting. "Didn't Lady Une or Doctor Po tell you?"

"No. Doctors examined us and put us to bed, and the Lady refused to say anything before I got some sleep." His voice is much colder, with anger on the edges. He's not use to being ordered around by anyone, even less by a former subordinate.

I hide a smirk. "And I should?"

He glances at me and I see his sapphire eyes shine with a familiar gleam, a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Of course," he answers as if it was self-evident.

"Well, he has not been so fine, I'm afraid," I say slowly. "Sally Po didn't give me many details. Actually, I believe that the Gundam pilots know more than I do about his illness. But I can tell you that he was in a severe depression, and to be a doctor wasn't necessary to notice that."

"I see," he replies thoughtfully.

We keep silent for a few minutes. He looks at the sleeping form in the bed, longing plain in his eyes. And I remember. "I have a little something for you, Treize."

He looks at me, frowning as I unlock a thin golden chain around my neck. But when he notices the small cross, his face softens. He takes it delicately, moving it so the blue stone shines in the faint light. "I wondered if I would get it back," he murmurs to himself. "Where did you find it?"

"In the basement where Milliard was caught. My guess is Milliard found it at the murder scene, where the police officers neglected it because of its apparent insignificance."

"Murder scene? So that's why he never came back."

"Who was he?"

"A friend. I gave him this so Milliard would believe him." He sighs.

"The police will want to question you. And the Preventers."

"I will talk to them in due time." He locks the chain around his neck as he speaks, hiding the little jewel under his clothes.

Silence falls again between us, only disturbed by Milliard even breaths. He looks like an angel, peaceful and defenceless. I hope Treize realizes his luck. He must do so... must have... "Treize? I have a question for you... but I'm not sure I have the right to ask it."

"Go ahead."

"It's about Chang Wufei."

His stance doesn't change, and his expression remains the same. But his hand quickly reaches for Milliard's, intertwining their fingers in a tight grasp. "What about him?" he asks with an even, almost careless voice. He looks directly at me as he speaks, but the shadow I see in his eyes chills me to the bone.

"Nothing." I drop my gaze and close my eyes a few seconds. I shouldn't have asked. I stand up. "I will leave now. You need to rest." He nods, not letting go of Milliard's hand, and I envy him suddenly. "Stay close to him, though," I add. "He used to have nightmares." He nods again and I start to leave.

"Dorothy?" I stop at the door, waiting. "I will take care of him myself, from now on. You don't have to stay around anymore..."

It's a sharp pain, like a cold knife cutting through my heart, leaving me breathless and empty. I don't understand why those words hurt me so much. Sure, I became attached to Milliard in a very unusual and protective way, but it was not meant to last, was it? It was for a limited time, until he got better. I knew it from the start. And now that he has Treize back, I am of no use. It's perfectly logical. And right. It's absolutely right.

"...but I'd like you to stay with us, if you want to."

Pain again, but different, and warm under my skin. I take a few seconds to answer. "Yes, I'd like that very much." And I exit the room. I go in the nearest bathroom and I lock the door. Then I sit on the floor and, lifting my knees to my chest, I cry in silence.

~ * ~

The morning sun is bright and warm, today. I haven't felt this relaxed in a long time.

Alaroff is in jail. It's all over the news. He is charged with kidnapping, treason and conspiracy. The trial will be in two months, but I'm confident he will be convicted. The evidence is unquestionable.

The last charge leaves me perplexed and worried, though. He refused to denounce his accomplices, but the Preventers are still investigating, and Quatre told me - although he probably wasn't supposed to - it was pointing toward Sank. Now that wouldn't be good for Milliard's morale. He holds that little country in so high esteem that he doesn't see its faults and flaws.

He doesn't realize that even his sister could do evil in the name of peace.

I sigh, discarding these dark thoughts. I am alone at home for now, with my coffee and my newspapers, and it's very peaceful. In a few moments, I will leave to pay a visit to Milliard and Treize, at the hospital. Milliard woke up last evening and I can't wait to see him.

I breathe in slowly, filling my lungs with pure, fresh air. Although my little emotional display in the hospital's bathroom was disconcerting and scary at first, I can't deny that it was a long overdue relief. I smile. Everything's fine now. It couldn't be better.

But it could get worse. It so easily does...

I close my eyes. Nothing's completely perfect. But I won't let anyone, not even a queen, spoiled this for them. No matter what it takes, I will protect them. I will protect my family.

I smile again. Those words fascinate me. My family.

~ * ~

I peek into the room, already smiling. Milliard rests in bed, leaning back comfortably against pillows and cushions, and Treize sits by his side, on the edge of the bed. He still holds Milliard's hand, and I wonder if he ever let it go.

"Hi there!" I exclaim, still in the doorway and waving at them.

They look up at me, and they both smile. "Hi, Dorothy," Milliard says, and despite his exhaustion his voice sounds steady. But what takes my breath away is his eyes. They shine, clear and alive, like a piece of a summer sky. "Please, join us."

I do so and sit in a chair near them. The room is bathed in sunlight ; there are no shadows here. "Tell me, how's my favourite prince this morning?"

He frowns like I knew he would. "I am no prince, Dorothy."

"Yes, yes, you say so. But we all have our own opinions, don't we?" He purses his lips in a disbelieving face, and my smile widens. "Oh, pout all you want, you won't change my mind. So, how are you?"

"Fine," he sighs. "Until you came in, that is."

"Always so kind to me. I love you, too, you know?" The words came easily and he smiles a bit. He doesn't know yet how true they are, but in time he'll learn.

"Treize told me you'll stay with us."

"I'm afraid I will. I'm not easy to get rid of, as you should know."

"I do," he replies somewhat dryly, but his eyes sparkle playfully, which is, considering Milliard's personality, a rare event I feel very lucky and grateful to witness.

"But won't you feel a little uneasy?" Treize adds, with that enigmatic smile of his. "Trapped with the two of us? Milliard told me his house isn't very spacious."

"No, it isn't. At least, not by *your* standards. That's why I've arranged for your former estate to be readied. It should be settled by the time you're allowed to leave the hospital."

Treize raises an eyebrow questioningly. "What makes you think we want to live there?"

"I assumed so, that's all. Was I wrong?"

"Not at all. But I would have appreciated being consulted first."

I smirk to him. "Well, well, well. You speak as if you were still the World's leader. We have a democratically elected President now. Autocracy is past, you must realize."

"Unfortunately, I do."

"Don't sound so sad! See it this way : you are on vacation."

We continue on this mode for some time, laughing lightly, skipping from one topic to another. And all this time, Milliard stays back, observing us, a small smile lighting up his face. He's caught up in his thoughts again, but they are happy ones. I can tell from the dreamy, unworried look in his eyes.

Gradually, though, our discussion becomes serious and I begin to dread the moment I will have to inform them about the new developments of the investigation.

"You are reluctant to talk, all of sudden" Treize notices. "Do you have news for us?"

I glance at Milliard. He doesn't seem to be paying attention to us. "Yes. Alaroff wasn't working alone, and he is not the one who decided to keep your survival a secret. Truth be told, from what I've heard, he would rather have finished you himself."

"Then I should be grateful that someone thought better of it."

"I'm not so sure."

"What do you mean?"

I glance at Milliard again. His eyes are now closed. "You said they were about to deliver you to someone else, that you were about to be moved when the Preventers found you." He nods, staring intently at me. "Well, I shouldn't tell you this - I shouldn't know about it myself - but that someone else could be Relena Peacecraft."

He remains silent for awhile. "Could it be?"

"It's only a hypothesis for now. But there are circumstances... and the letter said 'Ready for QR'. Ready for Queen Relena, perhaps."

"I see."

Silence settles in again, broken by the nurse's arrival. She puts down a little silvery plate on the bedside table. Treize takes the glass of water and the pill laying on the plate, and hands them to Milliard, who takes them and swallows the medication without any question or protest.

I stand up, a wicked smile on my lips. "Now, I don't know if I should be insulted or grateful," I spit at Milliard. "How come you obey with so much docility? It use to be so difficult to give you those damn pills. You can be so stupidly stubborn at times!"

He blushes instantly and Treize starts to laugh. Milliard tenses up at the sound, even more upset, staring at me with narrowed, furious eyes, as if he were about to kill me. Now that's familiar. "Don't look at me like that, Milliard. You know I am right." The fact that I talk to him like a mother to a not very gifted child doesn't calm him in the least.

It's a relief, though, to see that he seems to have been oblivious to my previous discussion with Treize. And Treize appears to feel the same, for he simply asks, "This is not over, then?"

"No," I answer. "It seems that it is more elaborate than we all first imagined. The Preventers are on it, though, so you don't have to worry. They are surprisingly efficient."

"Should I pass on to Lady Une this vote of confidence of yours?" Treize retorts with an ironic smile.

I pout, as expected, and I am rewarded with a little laugh from Milliard.

~ * ~

I leave minutes later. Milliard obviously needs to rest, and Treize has a check up scheduled with Sally Po. I frown as I walk. That woman appears to be everyone's doctor. It's kind of chilling.

Speaking of chilling... I shiver as the air seems to get cooler. I look up... and find myself face to face with Relena, Noin standing at her side. They both look calm and in control. They don't fool me. Nut cases.

"Hi, Dorothy," Relena greets me with her sweetest smile. "Did you see my brother?"

"Yes, Miss Relena, I did," I answer in my most innocent voice.

"How was he?"

"Fine, I guess. But tired. Maybe you should wait before seeing him."

"Nonsense. I am his sister. He needs me."

I shiver. This reminds me of my encounter with Noin, on Milliard's porch. I look at the former Oz lieutenant. She smiles coldly, somewhat scornfully. And it strikes me. I hate her. "Do as you please," I say, "but Heero is near by, on the first floor. He was wounded during Alaroff's arrest."

"Wounded?" Relena's voice is shaky, all of sudden. Gotcha.

"Yes. Nothing serious. I believe he's about to leave, actually."

She turns to Noin and says, "Find him, Noin. And tell him to wait for me. I won't be long."

I hardly hide my contempt. She's so predictable at times, and Noin knows it. That's probably why she looks about to either faint or strangle me. "But Zechs..." she tries to say, but Relena doesn't listen - she doesn't want to - and she gives up. "I will find him, princess."

I tell them Milliard's and Heero's room numbers, then we part. But as they pass in front of me, I grab Noin's arm and whisper to her ear, "I know. And I won't let *you* hurt him." She look at me with dead eyes, though, and goes on her way.

And then it occurs to me - Relena seemed to be relieved to not bring Noin along with her to see Milliard. In fact, thinking back on it, she jumped at the first good reason she found to dismiss her.

I thought mentioning Heero was a smart thing to do, but now I wonder...

Who's mind was played with?

~ * ~

No, as I told Treize, this is not over. There are still too many missing pieces. But that puzzle will have to wait.

I open the estate's front door wide to welcome my two guests. Since Milliard passed the estate over to me at the reading of Treize's will, a few months ago, and since the paperwork for Treize's resurrection is not completed, this place is still rightfully mine for the time being. It will be fun to remind them of that when they want to throw me out.

I smile to myself. It's so easy to annoy them. And so pleasant, too.

The sun shines down on them as they step out of the car, and there are no clouds to darken the sky. I will make sure it remains this way.

"Welcome home, you two!"

~ * ~ * ~

Continued in Treize's part.