Quatre stretched underneath the covers of his bed, snuggling in closer to his pillow. Someone poked him in the back.

"Ne, Trowa, just a little longer." he mumbled to himself, trying to bury his face deeper into the pillow. The poking was harsher this time. Sighing, Quatre still in a sleepy haze, rolled over.

"Trowa what did I--oh, sorry, I forgot." Quatre looked away, his blonde locks falling messily over his clear blue eyes. The little girl kneeling on the bed beside him giggled, her light brown eyes alight with puppy love, as she hugged Quatre.

"Oh my silly angel! Time to wake up!" she hugged Quatre tighter, her long black hair tangling in his shirt buttons. Quatre smiled. He never had a younger sister, and though Damona--he blushed at the thought--had a little crush on him, he treated her as one and felt very protective of her. He hugged her back warmly, entrapping her in a bear hug.

"Ahh no, it's the Q-monster!" he cried as he began to tickle her. The little girl giggled and screamed, clutching her sides. Quatre finally let up, and smiled as Sorscha, Damona's mother walked in. She ruffled his hair.

Since the day they had taken him in, she had treated Quatre like her own son. Always having been starved for a real mother, Quatre had warmed naturally to her. After all, she had been the one to nurse him back to health, those few weeks it took him heal.

"Now Damona, don't go harrassing Quatre like that." Sorscha kissed Damona on the cheek, and then the top of Quatre's head. "Good morning, my little one." she said kindly, then scooping Damona into her arms, whisked the girl out of the room to get ready for the day.

Quatre sighed, as a lonely pang stabbed through his heart. Trowa. He sorely, with all of his heart, missed that tall green-eyed pilot. He had been newly healed for about a week and a half, and though Damona, her mom, and the new friends he had easily made kept him happy for a while, he was lonely deep inside. He had been away from his love too long, way too long.

Afterall, he'd been recovering for nearly a month. Washing his face, and perking up a bit at the sound of Damona's tiny bell-like voice, he changed into the clothes provided for him, and walked out into the Main Caves.

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The blonde-haired pilot stuck out like a sore thumb, amongst the dark-haired, and dark-skinned people of the Cheysuli race. Well, okay, so Quatre stuck out anywhere he went with his blindingly platinum blonde locks, and sincere blue eyes. He sighed again, as he realized that he was absently searching the crowd for Trowa. He had been doing that for the last few days.

He hated to hurt any of his new friends here, and he owed them more than his life, but, Quatre longed to go home. He despised the war, and all of the hardships it brought, but he wanted Trowa and the companionship of the pilots.

"Hello Quatre." The Arabian spun around, startled. He came face to face with a boy, about 18, a full head taller than himself, with straight black hair that fell messily over his eyes, a thin tan face, and penetrating hazel eyes. Quatre always felt that he were being scrutinzed by him, and consequently, felt the blush rise on his cheeks.

"Hello Rigg, how are you today?" he asked cheerily. Rigg was one of the people that had befriended him immediatly, amongst others. Rigg smiled toothily down at Quatre, shrugging his shoulders.

"Not much, Quatre, just wanted to see how you were feeling." Quatre smiled up at Rigg, his dimples standing out on his cheeks.

"I'm feeling much better now, thank you. I've pretty much fully recovered. Thank you for asking, though." Rigg smiled down at Quatre again, and Quatre squirmed slightly under his intense gaze.

"That's good to hear." Rigg stated, shifting his eyes to a spot behind Quatre. Curious, the blonde looked behind him, and into a pair of large amber eyes. The girl, around Quatre age, giggled flipping her dark hair in what she thought to be a sensual manner. She smiled slightly at Quatre, and stepped closer to him, putting a slender hand on his arm.

"Hi Quatre..." she said, in her light, airy voice. Quatre smiled at the girl, another one who had befriended her, and even though she liked him more as a friend, he had bonded close to her, feeling like a brother almost. Like he did with Damona.

"Hello Ambah. How are you today?" Quatre asked, smiling and not realizing quite what a winning, heart-melting smile he had. Ambah sure as hell did though. She reddened immediatly, and looked down at her feet. She held out a pretty red rose to him, which he accepted incredously.

"I, um, picked this for you." Ambah said, bringing her eyes up to meet his. Quatre tenderly brushed a strand of hair, out of her large eyes, as if he were an older brother fussing over his sister.

"Thank you, Ambah, it's beautiful." The girl brightened, and then, with an embarrassed glance at Rigg, pressed her lips to his in a quick, school-girl kiss, then reddening even more, ran off in another direction. Blinking, Quatre felt the heat rising on his cheeks, as he turned flustered eyes to Rigg, who was regarding him silently.

"I have some buisness to go do, Quatre, " Rigg said, and then with a secret smile added, "I think she likes you." Quatre tried to mumble out an explanation, but Rigg was already gone, lost in the bustling crowd.

Shaking his head, and clutching the rose in one hand, he continued on his way to the Meeting Cave.

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"Ahh, Quatre, come sit, please!" A man gestured to a mound of cushions placed before a low round table, in the center of a magnificent marble carved platform. The man, dressed in simple garb and the woman the same, were actually the leaders of the Cheysuli people. Quatre bowed respectfully to each of them in turn, before taking a seat. The woman, Delilah, and the man, Stave, waved a dismissive hand.

"You need not show such formalities with us, Quatre, after all you are our guest and a member of this community now." Quatre smiled at his two friends, then felt a hand latch onto his. He looked at the adoring face of Damona.

Smiling at the little girl, Quatre touseled her hair, as she settled in next to him. She said something to Delilah and Stave in their own language, and the two adults chuckled quietly. They turned twin pairs of warm brown eyes to Quatre.

"Why have you come to see us, young angel of ours?" the woman asked, the affection apparent in her voice. Quatre flushed, not wanting to offend these two powerful leaders, and friends, but needing to follow his heart.

"I am very grateful, for all that you have done for me. I cannot begin to repay you, for what you have given me. But--" he was cut off. Stave raised a gentle hand, silencing him.

"But, you wish to return to the surface world." Quatre nodded, and Damona yelled out,

"NO! Quatre, you can't go! Please don't leave me!" Quatre futilely tried to quiet Damona, but she gave him the look of a wounded animal. He felt her sadness and confused emotions, as if it were a physical blow.

"Hush, Damona." Delilah said, coming over to the little girl to comfort her. "Quatre is not of our people, and is free to choose what he wishes." She turned a comely face to Quatre.

"Quatre," she said, "there are some things you should know, before we send you anywhere." she paused, trying to formulate the words in her mind. "If we send you back, we must, for our own safety, send you back in the state that we found you in. In you're case, it would be half-dead. I don't know if the medical facilities they have on Earth, are good enough to save you, Quatre. You were just on the cusp of dying, when we found you, and even the healing magic took an enormous amount to save you." Quatre felt himself pale.

Go back...the way he came? He wanted to see Trowa, but not if he was just going to die moments later.

"Do you understand what we are saying, Quatre. If we send you back, you may just be signing your own death warrant." Stave stated bluntly, though there was tenderness and sadness in his deep voice. "Do you wish this?" he asked. Quatre needed time to think, he needed to decide, he loved Trowa but--a searing pain made him double over and clutch his chest. He cried out, falling fowards, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to make the pain go away.

"No..." he whispered, as the distant voices of Delilah and Stave asked what was wrong with him. He could faintly hear Damona screaming his name in the background. A new voice, cut through the haziness of his hearing, and he heard the words sharp and clear.

"Master Stave! It's the Sin-Eater again, this time, " the voice faltered," this time it was the metal smith's own daughter, Ambah...she's dead sir, raped and killed. We found her body in one of the connecting caves to her own dwelling. No signs of the Sin-Eater anywhere."

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Soooo, comments, feedback, suggestions? Good jokes? ::grins:: Send em to me at dkaz02@aol.com Sorry it took so long guys! Should be done soon, though.