The limp corpse fell to the concrete floor, it’s crimson liquid flowing from the lifeless flesh. The cobalt blue eyes were wide with pain, but they would no longer move again, nor would the brown haired boy breath. His skin was pale, but covered with puddles of its own blood; fingers curled up into tight fists of ultimate pain and agony. The black boot walked up and kicked the broken body, sneering slightly when it didn’t move. Their hand dipped down into the pool of liquid and brought it to their lips. His blood tasted so bitter, just like their victims outer personality. Inside they knew that the boy was caring and happy, his lost childhood trying desperately to be reborn into the world. But now he was dead, that inner child unable to reclaim the life it wanted so much. The hand reached down again and ran its fingers across the bloodied flesh of the boy’s cheek, smearing in the red juice more. They laughed coldly again; at what they had just done and what they were going to do.“One down; four to go.”

Trowa twisted around uncomfortably in his bed before he sat up suddenly; eyes wide open and pearls of sweat dripping down his face. It was only a dream, but it had seemed so real; the gun, how it had smoked after the bullet had torn from it’s wraths. The cold laughing echoed throughout his mind, making his spine shudder. He pulled his hands down his face wiping the sweat away slightly, his skin feeling clammy under the now wet palms. His emerald eyes seemed dull, the nightmare still clear in his thoughts. At least that was all it was; a nightmare. Just a horrid part of his imagination. If he went into Heero’s room, he’d see him there; lying asleep in bed, not the blood stained concrete floor that his vision had shown him. Trowa’s heartbeat began to calm and slow down from its previous frantic beating. The brown banged pilot pulled himself up from his damp sweat coated sheets and made his way to the bathroom. They had all agreed to stay in one of Quatre’s large mansions for the Summer to relax and get their minds off all the fighting they had done, but that was the last thing Trowa was doing. He had just seen Heero being shot; the blood pouring everywhere.

“Get a grip Trowa.” He whispered looking in the mirror at his troubled face. It had all seemed so real. That laugh was haunting him, plaguing his mind. He hadn’t seen the murderers face, but that laugh; it was tearing his sanity apart. The tall boy looked up through blank eyes at his face. It was white and strands of his hair were stuck to his face, the sweat acting as a strong glue. Why was he so afraid all of a sudden; after all it was just a dream….wasn’t it?

Trowa wandered downstairs, the faint aroma of breakfast filling his nostrils. He inhaled the scent of the blueberry muffins and black coffee and entered the kitchen. There stood Quatre; the little Arabian quickly removing the beautiful cakes from the oven. Trowa secretly sighed at the sight of the blonde banged boy jumping slightly as he attempted to get the muffins up from the scolding tray. Trowa loved to look at his little angel. //Since when was he yours? Though I wish he was mine; I’d love to hold him and whisper loving comments into his ear.// In Trowa’s eyes, Quatre was a vision of perfection, no matter what the Arab said to people who complimented him. Trowa realized that he had been staring at the boy for a few minutes and wandered up to him. Quatre turned around and looked up at the tall boy, who was desperately trying to suppress a giggle as he noticed the splodge of muffin batter on the end of his nose. Trowa thought it made his angel look even cuter than he already did.

“What’s the matter Trowa?” Quatre asked, his bright eyes sparkling.

“You have some muffin batter on your nose.” Trowa laughed removing the batter with his long fingers, slipping it in his mouth. Quatre wrinkled up his nose rubbing it to try and remove the remaining batter. He looked up into the emerald eyes of the tall pilot and watched him remove his now glistening finger. He quickly broke his gaze and walked over and placed the large basket of muffins on the table, rushing to pour the black coffee. Trowa looked at the muffins that had been made by his love and he walked over to pick one up. He carefully brought it to his lips, smelling the heavenly scent before biting into the hot sweetness. “These are lovely Quatre.” He sighed, licking his full lips. Quatre blushed slightly at this comment looking the other way, before joining the brown banged boy. Trowa was so graceful, his tall muscular body covered by the hugging turtleneck jumper and tight jeans. Quatre looked up into those green pools biting into a muffin before gasping slightly at the hot sponge. He wafted his hand in front of his mouth trying to cool it down. Trowa smiled with concern at the blonde pilot. Quatre could always make Trowa smile, something that hardly anyone could do.

“Morning.” A sleepy voice came out. The two quickly turned around to see the American braided hair boy walk into the room, stretching his arms and yawning. He walked over to the table where he sat down, taking in the sweet smell. Quatre handed the boy a black coffee and two muffins on a plate. Duo began to eat greedily. “So...where’s Heero and Wufei?” he mumbled, face full of muffin.

“Wufei went out early and I don’t know about Heero; he’s still sleeping I guess.” Quatre replied, beginning to sip his coffee. Duo went for another muffin. Trowa looked into his coffee cup, the swirling black liquid reflecting his image. It was so unlike Heero to sleep in, even when he had been out all night. Trowa placed down the cup and made his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards the dark haired pilots room. Duo and Quatre looked at him disappear with confused expressions on their faces, before shrugging it off and beginning to eat once more. Trowa looked at the oak panel before him, a lump suddenly appearing in his throat. He reached out with long fingers and touched the handle, its cold metal burning into his flesh. With one swift movement he opened the door and screamed. There in front of him lay Heero’s body, just like in his dream. The pool of crimson liquid shone brightly in the morning light, the detectable stench of death in the foul air. Trowa fell to his knees at the sight; his breath short and terrified. His body began to tremble as he looked at the gun shot wound in Heero’s head; the streaks of blood made by someone across his cheeks. The walls now splattered with the red liquid made the bile in Trowa’s stomach rise into his throat. It had been just a nightmare, but now it was a reality to him. Trowa leapt as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He shot a frightened glance upwards to see the worried expression of Quatre.

“Trowa? What’s the matter?” The blonde Arab asked, his calm voice filling Trowa’s mind.

“Heero…..he…he’s….dead.” Trowa stuttered, tears beginning to fill his eyes.

“How? How do you know?” The blonde asked in confusion. Trowa’s eyes widened; his emerald orbs full of fear.

“Don’t….don’t you…see it? He’s in there…..he’s dead….” Quatre looked into his face through solemn eyes and shook his head.

“Trowa….nobody is there.” Trowa’s eyes were red now, and he turned back to look into the room. They widened as he now saw the clean room; not a trace of the perfect soldiers life anywhere. He had seen it though; the corpse of his friend, the fear in his dead eyes. It had been so real, but now he saw that what he believed was reality was just another nightmare. Trowa began to sob, burying his face into his hands. He felt the strong embrace of his little Quatre’s arms around him and he began to cry more. His normally emotionless shell had been shattered, all of the fearful emotions running free. Trowa turned around into Quatre’s chest and felt the grip around him tighten as the Arab’s shirt was becoming wet. “Shhhhhh…” The angelic voice of Quatre cooed. Trowa didn’t ever want him to let go; he wanted to die in Quatre’s arms, in his Little One’s arms. The sobs died away, as Trowa began to rebuild his mask that hid his emotion. That’s what he always did; he hid himself. Trowa had always hidden himself from the cruel world. That world didn’t love him; nobody did. If only he knew how wrong he was.

“He….I…I saw him Quatre.” Trowa gasped.

“I know…I know.” Quatre was afraid; afraid that the boy he cared most for in the entire world was upset, let alone seeing things. //Please Trowa. Don’t do this to me; don’t worry me like this, I love you too much to loose you. // Trowa reluctantly removed himself away from Quatre and walked to his room, fists clenched and slightly shaking. He had been such a fool; now Quatre had seen that Trowa’s dreams sometimes co existed with his reality, that he wasn’t worthy of his perfect angel.

He fell onto his bed, burying his face deep in the pillow. All Trowa wanted to do was to suffocate in the depths of that feathery softness. The clammy tears once again welled in his eyes and he began to sob silently, the mask again removed. //Oh Little One, I’m sorry for showing you my fear. I can’t even explain why I thought he was…dead in there. I wish I could answer myself, let alone you and to hold you in my arms forever, never letting go. //

Duo looked at the whiteness on Quatre’s face as the Arab entered the kitchen again. He noticed how Quatre appeared to be shivering, but not from any known coldness in the house. “Quatre…. what happened? What happened with Trowa?”

“He…he saw…the dead body of Heero in his room, but….but it wasn’t there.” Quatre stuttered slightly, his eyes reflecting the image of his banged pilot in a crying heap.

“Dead body? What’s wrong with him? I know Heero isn’t here, but…” Duo paused and looked at the wide-eyed vision of Quatre. “Quatre? Are you alright?” The blonde looked up at the chestnut haired boy and tried desperately to produce one of his usual happy smiled, but all he could see was Trowa. //My poor Trowa, he’s all alone up there. But no Quatre; if you told him, he’d push you away, he’d hate you for all your life and you’d ruin your friendship. But I just wish that I could tell him how I feel even though I know it is my taboo.//

“Hey! Quatre are you alive?” the voice of the American boomed in his mind and the Arab snapped out of his daze. He forced out a smile before busying himself in the cleaning of the kitchen.

The hours past; Trowa finally emerging from his room, eyes puffy and red. He walked quietly downstairs and decided to get some air, stepping on something crunchy under his feet when he exited the mansion. Trowa looked down to see a blank white envelope with nothing on it, and picked it up, carefully turning it over looking for some sort of clue to whom it was from. //It must be for Quatre. // He walked back into the house and placed the letter on top of the hall table. He couldn’t cope to give it to Quatre now; still embarrassed that he had seen him flip like that. Trowa wandered upstairs and decided to take a shower to relax himself.

He removed his turtleneck and jeans, stepping into the warm jets that shot down from the sky; the steam filling the cubicle with its heavenly dew. Trowa sighed, letting out all of his tension. He picked up the shower gel and sponge, and smelt it. The citrus scent rose through is nostrils and tingled his senses. Quatre had picked out this shower gel; it was an angel’s choice. Trowa sighed thinking about his love and his muscles relaxed as he washed the thick lather over his limbs and chest, the citrus tickling his skin. He began to imagine his little Quatre rubbing his back with the sponge; delicate fingers running down his spine making Trowa’s back shudder at the touch. Quatre rinsed his back and began to gently kiss Trowa’s flesh, Trowa groaning in the process. His Little One’s lips were so smooth and caring on the slightly tanned skin of Trowa. Suddenly Trowa’s eyes flung open, the vision of Quatre fading into the wind. He quickly rinsed the rest of the foam from his body and grabbed a towel, rushing downstairs. There at the foot he saw the envelope, open and discarded across the carpet, next to it sat a huddled blonde Arab. Trowa, forgetting that he wasn’t dressed knelt down and picked up the letter, his eyes widening in fear at what he saw. The letter was in fact a photograph of all of them, apart there was a new addition to the picture. Where Heero’s face was, it had been blocked out by the stain of blood. Trowa felt the bile rising in his throat as he saw the strands of dark brown hair fall to the ground.

<< Heero walked along the stone path to the mansion; his tired expression clear on his face. He ruffled his hair and wiped his eyes carefully. All Heero wanted to do was to fall into slumber in his bed and not have to think about anything. First though he had to go and check the information he had just received on his Gundam’s computer. He sighed and walked down the stone steps into the Gundam hanger below the mansion in a huge stone type cellar.

There they were, four of the Gundams. Wufei had left for a mission; the single space left for the Nataku was free. Their metal work shimmered in the dim lights that lit the hanger. Heero walked over to the Zero and yawned. He’d get this over as soon as possible then go to sleep, that bed seeming closer to him than ever. The cobalt eyed pulled out his laptop and began to tap the many keys frantically. Heero Yuy never noticed the shadow looming over him; that was not until it clampt a gloved hand over his startled mouth. >>

Quatre looked up at him through timid child’s eyes. “They….they’ve killed him..and….you knew.” He whispered, his gaze fixed upon the wet bangs in front of him. “How….how did you know!?” Trowa felt his mouth going dry again as he desperately tried to reply. Finding that he couldn’t, the boy lowered his head and shook it.

“What’s going on? And Trowa, why are you just wearing a towel?” It was Duo. He looked at the huddled form of Quatre before his eyes fell upon the photograph and familiar pilot’s hair. Suddenly it was Duo’s turn to be silent as he reached down and picked up a few strands of hair, anger flowing through his veins. “Who….who did this!?” he muttered coldly through clenched teeth. His eyes fixed upon Trowa and he ran over to him and grabbed his shoulders shaking the tall pilot violently. “You! You knew about this! Where is he!!? Tell me Trowa…or I’ll kill you!” He felt the grip of Quatre on his back, but just threw his friend’s arm away.

“It wasn’t Trowa, Duo. Please….” Duo let go of the slightly shaken boy before running up the stairs in a grief stricken panic. Trowa looked at Quatre as he picked up the contents of the envelope carefully with shaking hands. “Quatre….” Trowa started, the blonde pilot not looking up at him. “I saw it in a dream…then in Heero’s room. I saw him being murdered in my thoughts and yet I don’t know…I don’t know who….or what did it to him.” The Arab looked up at his dear friend and nodded. “I know Trowa; I know.”