Disclaimer – I don’t own ‘em, so don’t sue. On a good day you’ll get a ball of pocket lint. MINE *grabs lint ball protectively*
Trowa stood in the middle of what was once probably a lake. Now, desert surrounded it and consumed it. The ground underfoot was cracked and dry and crunched when he moved. Trees had once surrounded the tiny body of water, but now all that remained were their withered corpses, still standing, and forming an almost perfect circle around the small depression. He recognized this place, he had visited it often enough. It was a small lake in a forest. It was quite secluded, and had been his and Quatre’s special place. Now, it was dead and desolate, just like his heart. He thought about how fitting it was that his place had died with his soul.
He walked over to one of the corpses of a tree and laid his hands on it. It was dry and brittle, dead. “I miss you,” he said, “and the loneliness is driving me insane.”
He didn’t know what caused him to look up, but he did, and from atop a distant hill, he saw a rider appear out of the dancing heat waves. The rider was coming at a full gallop towards him, his cloak billowing behind him. He arrived at the ring of trees and stopped, causing a cloud of dust to wash over both of them. He took a step towards Trowa, and stopped just out of touching distance. Trowa couldn’t make out who it was, the person was covered head to toe in cloth, leaving only his eyes exposed, and those were covered with goggles, presumably to keep out dust.
“Who are you?” Trowa asked. The figure then took of his goggles, and left Trowa gasping for breath. Those familiar blue eyes that he had woken to so many times gazed at him, once again filled with love, compassion, and the promise to take all of his hurts away. “Ka…Quatre?” Trowa stammered and seemingly involuntarily took a step forward. The figure then unfastened the cloth hiding his face, and removed the whole headpiece. The angelic face of his beloved stared back at him once more, his golden hair shining softly like a halo in the sun. A soft smile played along his delicate lips.
“Trowa, aren’t you going to say hello?” Quatre asked with soft amusement in his voice. Those words seemed to break whatever spill that had held Trowa immobile. He ran forward, fell to his knees, and wrapped his arms around the other boy’s waist. He then buried his face into the long, robe-like garment covering Quatre’s body, and proceeded to cry uncontrollably.
“Shhh,” Quatre said, “it’s ok, Trowa.” He then knelt down, gathered Trowa into his arms, and let the other boy cry himself out, all the while, running his hand over Trowa’s hair.
After what seemed an eternity, Trowa looked up. At first, all he saw were those beautiful eyes of his beloved, gently beaming all of the love and compassion in the universe down on him. Slowly, however, he stood and took stock of his surroundings. It was night, and the small lake was full to brimming, reflecting the bright light of the moon and stars above to perfection on its glassy surface. The ring of dead trees was now alive and well, forming a small grove of ancient oak trees, their limbs heavy and drooping. The ground was no longer so much dust, but was instead covered in soft green grass that was dotted intermittently with daffodils. Quatre no longer wore his desert garb, but was dressed instead in his customary blue shirt and khakis.
Trowa gasped, taking in the soft perfume of the flowers surrounding them. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”
“Yes love, you’re dreaming, and we don’t have long,” Quatre said with a slight tinge of sorrow in his voice. “I just came to tell you something. Trowa, you have to stop living your life in mourning. Stop living your life in sorrow, and start living it to the fullest, for both of us.”
“But Quatre,” Trowa said, sobbing, tears glistening like jewels in the moonlight, “I’m afraid to go on alone. I’m afraid that I’m not strong enough without you.”
“But Trowa,” Quatre said with love, “I’ll be your courage, and your strength. I live on as long as you keep me alive within your heart. And then,” he said softly, reaching out to gently caress the side of Trowa’s face, “when the time comes, we’ll be together in eternity.”
Trowa took a shuddering breath, “Please let me stay in this place with you forever.”
“No, Trowa, it’s time to wake up.”
“But I don’t want to wake up, ever.”
“Wake up, love, wake up.” Quatre said, a single tear sliding down his angelic cheek.
Trowa sat bolt upright in bed, gasping. The bright glow of moonlight coming through the window played across everything in the room, causing shadows to dance across the bed. It gave the room a mysterious ethereal quality that only seemed to emphasize the realness of the dream. “It was all just a dream,” Trowa whispered to himself. “But it was so real. Oh, Quatre, I can even still smell you,” he said brokenly through the knot in his throat. “Oh my little one, I find you only to lose you again,” he choked out as he broke into tears. He hugged his arms to himself and rocked as he cried broken, bitter, lonely tears.
How long he simply cried and rocked he couldn’t say, but, slowly, he became aware of something in the room that shouldn’t have been there, the soft, gentle smell of flowers. As he stopped crying, slowly reclosing the floodgate, he noticed it even more. Slowly, he looked over to the side of the bed that had been Quatre’s. There, as always, was the picture of his loving angel, resting in its customary place on the other pillow, but beside it, was something else. Lying beside the picture were a small bundle of daffodils, the dew still on them, sparkling like tiny diamonds in the moonlight. “Oh Quatre,” he said with wonderment, picking them up, “I promise to live for both of us my angel. New tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked up at the ceiling and said, “I know you can hear me, so I’ll say what I wished I could say a thousand times after your death. You saved me. You pulled me from my hiding place, and showed me love. You delivered my heart, my love, and I’ll never forget you. I know now that we’ll be together again, and I’ll live for that day.”
OWARI
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