A Final Solution (4)

[Caliborn]

<U><BIG><BIG><BIG>Chapter Four</BIG></BIG></BIG></U><BR>
<BR>
<I>Notes: Enjoy this next chapter, and Relena's first stop at a very
familiar colony!</I>
<br>
<br>
If only the throbbing of her wrists wasn't so distracting, Relena thought,
as she walked down the colony streets. Besides that, she felt . . . naked
. . .walking out in pubic with only the hospital gown. Even if no one could
see her, it was more out of pride. She hadn't seen anyone else in a hospital
gown . . .
<br>
Actually, she hadn't seen many people period. She was wondering what she
was supposed to do. Apparently, she had some task to finish, which she would
very much like to finish and then get the Hell out of there, but she had
no clue what it was. She'd try to find her way to Quatre's residence, but,
besides recognizing the colony, she didn't know it very well. She had no
idea how to get to Quatre's house . . . indeed, she wasn't even sure where
she was.
<br>
There was a little store to the side of the road; she had been watching it
absently for some time now. Maybe, because she seemed to have some sort of
fascination with it, it held some significance.
<br>
Or maybe she was just tired.
<br>
Then again, could ghosts get tired? She couldn't get cold; she knew that.
<br>
Two people came out of the building. One, a towering, heavily muscled male,
the other, also male, but smaller and shorter. Younger.
<br>
"Thanks, Rashid." The small one murmured as the tall one held the door open.
Relena's eyes popped, and, after a moment, she burst into a run after the
two leaving figures. She knew that voice. Speak of the devil! It was Quatre!
<br>
She ran to them, and then stopped, a few feet behind. She matched their pace
as they trudged up the walkway. Quatre had his hands in his pockets, and
he was looking downward.
<br>
Relena only watched them. She had half started to call out to him, but had
stopped herself, remembering that no one could hear her either. Damn. But,
at least she felt loads better at just seeing a familiar person!
<br>
. . . Well . . . the back of a familiar person, in any case . . .
<br>
She followed them for a while more, unsure what to do. Quatre seemed sad,
and neither he nor Rashid said anything.
<br>
Finally, though, the taller man broke the silence. "You shouldn't act so
down, Master Quatre . . ."
<br>
"She was my friend, Rashid," Quatre sighed.
<br>
Relena felt a jolt. Was he talking about her . . . Her? Well, of course.
It made sense. So, she was supposed to listen to them talk and then find
some lesson out of it. Okay! Got it. Now all she had to do was wait, listen,
and then she could go on!
<br>
"Perhaps if you talk about it?" Rashid prodded, gently.
<br>
Quatre sighed again. "There's not much to say. I don't know why she would
do what she did, and I'm hoping that she was framed, or something . . . I'm
not sure. But, it just doesn't make sense. She should've known that she could've
talked to me if she was feeling depressed . . ."
<br>
"So perhaps you didn't know her that well after all."
<br>
Relena was now only a few feet behind them. She sighed. What was the point
to all this? There was nothing to do but keep following . . .
<br>
"I knew her well enough!" Quatre's kind voice raised, not in anger, but in
defense for himself. His words, all this time, had been coated in a thick
syrup of worry. "From the war and after, I knew her well enough." His voice
had gone back to it's normal tone, calm and sure. Then again, Relena noted,
Quatre didn't sound as sure and calm as she'd always remembered him being
. . .
<br>
"The news is nothing to go by. That's all." Quatre continued. Rashid paced
silently at his side, saying little, but listening greatly. "I . . . I just
need to get a first hand account of this. I'm sure when I reach Noin or .
. . someone . . . I'll be able to find the truth about this . . ."
<br>
Rashid nodded. Then, when Quatre did not continue, he murmured softly, "As
it is, Master Quatre, there is little you or I or anyone can do now."
<br>
Quatre head bowed, sadly. After a moment, he simply said, "I know."
<br>
Relena felt a faint pang of guilt. Then again, she'd known people would mourn
her . . . Ah-hah. That was the point: to make her feel guilty, right? Well,
she did feel guilty about hurting Quatre, but eventually--as selfish as it
may have seemed to say- he'd get over it. It wasn't like she had done . .
. it . . . in the spur of the moment. The night had been carefully planned
out. And the world would've been much better off without her, really. She
was sure of it. She wasn't strong enough to believe she could change the
world anymore. People always had a will to fight, to kill . . . to solve
problems with violence. And though she didn't believe that, she couldn't
convince every single individual in the world that her own opinions were
right. Now, though, the way was paved for a stronger leader, a person who
could do that.
<br>
That way, the world could be the better place she'd always imagined . . .
<br>
They had reached a gate. Rashid moved up to an intercom-like-thing, speaking
soft words she didn't quite catch. The gate swung open, and Rashid started
inside.
<br>
Quatre stared forlornly at the opened gate for a moment. Then, he turned
suddenly, his gaze swinging back . . . landing strait on Relena! She froze,
eyes going wide, staring back. But! They couldn't see her!
<br>
His eyes kept going, though, and she calmed down. They swept across the entire
colony, it seemed, and the colony delegate and former Gundam Pilot looked
very lost, right then. Relena frowned.
<br>
Rashid turned, and his frown was more reproving then Relena's was sad. "Master
Quatre."
<br>
"Coming, Rashid." Quatre's face composed itself, into the diplomatic expression
Relena knew so well, and he spun immediately, following the older man inside.
<br>
"Oh, Quatre." Relena murmured, softly. She certainly hadn't though he'd be
quite that broken up over it . . .
<br>
Suddenly, she gave a start. The gates were closing! She meeped and ran through
the rapidly dwindling space, nearly catching the hem of her gown in the iron.
She turned to frown at it, as if it had purposefully done that just to cause
her trouble. Not that she was sure if she even could be hurt in this form
. . . besides the throbbing in her wrists, she felt nothing at all . . .
even her unprotected feet just felt . . . well . . . like they usually did.
She couldn't feel the ground. Couldn't hear, smell . . . well, anything.
It was unnerving. Then again, she -was- a ghost.
<br>
"This is ridiculous," She stated to the air, calmly annoyed. The air deemed
it wise to not reply. That done, she started after her colony friend again,
stepping after him through the large door to what apparently was his house.
<br>
She could vaguely remember coming in here once before . . . mostly, they'd
meet in his office because, usually, they talked about business . . . but
once he had invited her to stay the night, and she'd excepted, fairly tired
with that day and not wanting to travel all the way back to earth on the
same night.
<br>
She should've expected that Heero would've been there, that same night. He
had been silent, watchful, and stoic as always. But he'd been there, apparently
staying with Quatre . . . boy, hadn't she been surprised when she'd finished
changing, come out into Quatre's drawing room and found him calmly reclining
in a chair, reading a novel? It took quite a lot to surprise a diplomat like
herself, who had been through the war that she had . . . but, that had done
it.
<br>
Now she knew he liked the story Moby Dick, though.
<br>
He probably had known she was there even before she'd stepped in the door
. . . he'd looked up, given her a small, bland nod, then gone back to ignoring
her.
<br>
As he always seemed to do . . .
<br>
Back to the present, though. Quatre was walking off that-a-way . . . the
plan? Follow him, of course!
<br>
That she did, blindly hoping this would solve whatever the riddle was. She
followed him down a long hallway, the floor covered in a lush red carpet
that she wished she could feel. It would be comforting, to be able to feel
. . . well, anything, right then. There were a few other people in the hallways,
people she didn't know. Quatre payed them little mind, finally stepping into
one of the rooms. Relena, remembering what had happened with the door at
the hospital, quickly darted in before the door shut. Then, she stood just
inside the door, a little smug at her own agility. She could do this.
<br>
Sure.
<br>
After a moment, she realized that she recognized the room as Quatre's office.
Her eyes followed her friend as he sat down at his desk with a small, defeated
sigh. Huge stacks of paper awaited him, piled high, as if mocking him in
his own work. Yet the blonde man ignore them; instead simply put his head
in his hands and stared at nothing for quite awhile.
<br>
Relena shifted, standing there silently for a few moments. When nothing happened,
she rolled her eyes heavenward and went to sit down at one of the big, plush
chairs before Quatre's desk. It was so easy to remember when she had been
there before, sitting in this very chair, crouching over trade agreements
or other contracts with Quatre, firing ideas back and forth, canceling this,
accepting that. She had grown to be quite fond of him, actually, and they
had become good friends.
<br>
Which brought another thought to mind. Was she going to have to visit every
friend before she could move on to . . .where ever? Relena blanched. This
was going to take forever! Who knew dying required so much work? Ugh.
<br>
Tick, tock. Tick, tock. A small clock on the wall sounded out the seconds,
and when Relena realized she was absently tapping her foot to the ticks,
she looked up with an annoyed glare.
<br>
Quatre was in still the same position.
<br>
She watched him for a moment, biting her lip. "Quatre, don't be so sad .
. ." She murmured, half under her breath. "Look. Things will be a lot easier
for you." . . .That was a flat out lie, and she knew it. " . . .Well, maybe
harder at first . . . look, there's no reason for you to beat yourself up
over this!"
<br>
He, of course, made no reply. Deciding that she was getting rather annoyed
by all of this, Relena sat back with a small huff, suddenly jerking when
Quatre raised his head, as if hearing her. She stared at him with a wide-eyed
gaze for a long moment. This was really eerie, she noted. Then the phone
rang, giving her another shock.
<br>
Quatre closed his eyes, looking away. The phone rang again, and he finally
lifted the screen to receive the call with a resigned air.
<br>
"I asked not to receive any calls," Quatre murmured quietly, as greeting
to a blonde-haired female face that filled the screen, whom Relena though
to be his receptionist.
<br>
"Mr. Winner, I'm sorry, but the call was most urgent."
<br>
He paused, then nodded. "All right. Thank you." So polite.
<br>
The woman's faced quickly disappeared. Quatre moved the screen a little to
get a better view of it, inconveniently cutting off Relena's view.
<br>
She bit her lip, and after a moment's consideration, stood up to go peer
over Quatre's shoulder. Could ghosts eavesdrop? She was right behind him
when Quatre started in surprise at the next face to fill the screen. Seeing
who it was, Relena blinked as well. Now, that was a face she hadn't seen
in quite a while. . .
<br>
" . . .Trowa?" Quatre asked finally, breaking the silence.
<br>
Deep green eyes and dark brown hair was there, the serious man on the other
line showing no emotions, as usual, on his countenance. "Quatre." Trowa gave
him a small nod of greeting.
<br>
It was obvious that Quatre was very surprised, yet happy, to see an old comrade.
<br>
"Trowa!" He exclaimed with the most energy she had seen him use that day.
"What brought on this call?"
<br>
" . . .Things are happening." Trowa admitted after a moment. "They've been
trying to get a hold of you all day."
<br>
"They?" Quatre asked after a moment, smile fading. "Who's 'they?' "
<br>
"The Preventers." Trowa paused, then went on. "Since Relena's been . . .
hospitalized, certain events and . . .groups . . .are coming to a head."
<br>
Quatre didn't answer for long moment. Then, "What do you mean?"
<br>
"I think you know."
<br>
Again, a long pause, and Quatre shook his head, in a determined fashion.
"That can't be right. Heero told me they had been taken care of."
<br>
"Apparently, even the perfect soldier can make mistakes." . . .Was that a
bit of dry humor? The world was coming to an end. "In any case, they haven't
been taken care of."
<br>
" . . .What?" Relena finally uttered, very confused, forgetting they couldn't
hear her for a moment. When no one replied, she remembered, and nearly stopped
a frustrated growl. Who was "they"?
<br>
Quatre was being silent again. Trowa waited patiently, making no move or
comment. Quatre opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then, "What do they
need me for?"
<br>
"They need to speak with you. In person."
<br>
"Why not over the phone?"
<br>
A pause. "This line is secure, Quatre. But ears can hear through walls."
<br>
Quatre nodded. "I understand." Silence, then, "When?"
<br>
"Tomorrow."
<br>
Quatre sat up strait with a small sputter. "Tomorrow?" He blinked rapidly.
"That's very short notice . . ."
<br>
"A plane has already been called for you. I'm sure your work can wait a while
. . ."
<br>
"Oh, God, I don't care about the work . . ." Quatre sighed, gesturing absently
to his already huge and neglected pile of papers that threatened to fall
over. "I'm grateful for the excuse, actually. It's just . . . " He paused.
"Soon. Very . . . soon. And Rashid will want to come, meaning the rest of
them will want to come, meaning . . ."
<br>
"You'll need a plan about the size of the one we've gotten for you." Trowa
nodded.
<br>
She thought she heard Quatre chuckle lightly, a sound that was without mirth.
"Yes, I suppose."
<br>
Trowa just nodded. "We'll talk more when you get here. The plane will arrive
at oh-eight-hundred hours tomorrow."
<br>
"Got it. I'll . . . I'll tell the others." There was a pause, and Trowa moved
as if to cut the connection. Quatre bowed his head, slightly, and let his
voice stop his comrade.
<br>
"Trowa?"
<br>
Trowa's only reaction to show he had heard was his swift glancing up.
<br>
" . . .How is she?" Quatre's voice was soft. Mournful. Relena glanced at
him, taking her gaze from the screen, frowning slightly. He'd get over it
. . . he would. The world could move on. No, really. It could.
<br>
"She's in the same condition as she has been for the past two days. Not
unsabilized, but not stablized, either."
<br>
Two days? She'd been a ghost for the past two days? Relena stared in disbelief
at the little screen. Two days.
<br>
"Oh." Quatre nodded. He looked crestfallen. "Thank you. Please, contact me
if . . . if anything changes. Or. . . if I can do anything . . ."
<br>
Trowa nodded. Then, after a moment, "Sleep well, Quatre."
<br>
"You too, my friend."
<br>
The screen went blank, and Quatre simply sat there, still as a statue. He
sighed. Relena frowned.
<br>
Coming around to stand in front of him, she studied him silently. He looked
about to cry. Seeing that, her reserve broke, and she knelt before him, softly.
<br>
"Oh, Quatre . . . I'm sorry . . . I had no idea it would hurt you like this
. . ."
<br>
She reached up, to grab his arm. He simply stared at the floor, forlorn.
<br>
" . . . Look . . . It'll get better. Believe me, I thought about it. It wasn't
just a whim . . . This was my only way out. I swear."
<br>
He still only faced the floor.
<br>
" . . .Quatre . . ." She paused. " . . .I'm sorry."
<br>
He still only faced the floor. He couldn't see her. Couldn't feel her.
<br>
With an exasperated sigh, Relena stood quickly, walking away. She didn't
want to see anymore. Besides, what was the point? No one could see her. Everyone
thought she was in a hospital on earth, in a coma from a failed suicide attempt.
<br>
Oh, yay.
<br>
Upon reaching the gate, Relena paused. Looks like she was goingto have to
use the up-and-over trick, again . . . Her thoughts cut off when the gates
abruptly swung open. She blinked, then followed the road out.
<br>
When she turned the next corner, she found the bus. The bus. She paused at
the corner, before sighing and hurring to it.
<br>
I guess I did . . . whatever I was supposed to do. She thought, then sighed.
This whole thing is so pointless. Even if I see people I knew, what good
can it do? I can't touch them and they can't see me.
<br>
She strode to the open doors of the bus before peering inside. There was
that same lady, sitting in the driver's seat, waiting expectantly.
<br>
Relena pursed her lips at the driver. "What is this? How come you can see
me? How come I'm a ghost?"
<br>
"Hop on, Dear." Her voice was gentle. "You'll see eventually."
<br>
Relena frowned, before climbing on again. As the bus jerked into motion and
she found a seat, she mumbled to the back of the driver's head, "I don't
want to be a ghost."
<br>
"Not many do." She shruged. "Not many do. And, I'm sorry, sweetie, but it's
just going to get worse."
<br>
. . . Wasn't that just wonderful?

[suicide_baka]

I really love this story! I love how you have the bus and all that. Keep it up! I salute you.

[suicide_baka]

I really love this story! I love how you have the bus and all that. Keep it up! I salute you.

[blackrose]

WORSE? WORSE????


Oh geez. *sigh* And before bedtime, too.

Love,
Rose

[AngelOfDeath]

So hooked.... I must know more! Please please update soon.