A NEW LIFE PART FIVE Quatre couldn't explain the pain that caused the ocean to let loose in his ears, and his vision to swim with black and silver spots. He tried to sit up, only to fall back down, dizzy. He opened his mouth, his tongue tasting like sand. Bringing his hands up, he rubbed his eyes, and felt the grit that accompanies sleep. Moaning softly, he turned in the bed, and looked for Trowa. Surprised, he realized Trowa wasn't in bed, even though the digital clock read nearly four in the morning. Sudden fear came over Quatre as he realized that the only reason he should be in so much pain and confusion would be Trowa. Reaching out through the link, he felt Trowa a safe and close distance away, before he pulled back as another wave of nausea swept over him. Moaning quietly, Quatre sat up, and slowly lifted the blanket from his sweat soaked body; the pain releasing itself in perspiration that plastered the soft material against his flushed skin. He stood, knowing if he was in this much pain, Trowas' must be excruciating. His first step faltered, and he stumbled, but regained his footing long enough to reach the door. The light he saw through the crack of the entryway, exploded into a burst of violent light as Quatre pressed forward, and stepped into the room. At first, his sleep-blinded eyes could make out nothing, but his ears could hear the very quiet sobs of a man that rarely ever shed a tear. Quatre's heart broke as he heard his beloved take in a deep breath, only to have it expelled in a rush of pain, fear, and guilt. Slowly Quatre steeled himself. Trowa's pain was completely overwhelming him, and the world seemed to spin on its axis as he stood perfectly still and tried to erect an emotional block against Trowa. He knew he couldn't help him if he couldn't reach him, and he also knew he could dissolve the barrier later on when he had Trowa tucked safely in his arms. Finally when his vision adjusted to the dim light from the one lamp in the room that was ablaze, Quatre moved closer to his partner. He didn't need his abilities to sense how much Trowa was hurting. His beloved was hunched over, his beautiful face resting cupped in his hands. Quatre could see the tears leaking from between the tall boy's fingers. So strong those hands, how many times had they comforted him, touched him in love and peace, and also struck dead so many. His Trowa was so strong, he could do anything; but every now and again, his strength faltered. Quatre wasn't surprised to find him in such a state; his own constant dependency on Trowa weighed heavily on the boy who was so dependent on himself. Trowa was so strong, and yet so delicate. Quatre grew concerned when his approach was not detected. Trowa had an uncanny ability to sense the world around him. Quatre knew first hand the joys and disappointments of his abilities; how many times had Trowa avoided injury or death to come back to him, and yet how many surprised had he ruined by knowing exactly where Quatre was hiding? Kneeling down in front of Trowa, he reinforced his shields the best he could against this boy who was his lover and greatest empathic challenge. Trowa's emotions bit into him deeply, carved into his soul, burned with the passion of their love for one another. Quatre could barely block Trowa's emotions anymore, and now that he felt so overwhelmed by Trowa's pain, he could hardly gain enough footing to try. Reaching his hand out, Quatre touched Trowa's knee and felt the full impact of Trowa's state of mind, just as the man that held his heart, jerked up in surprise and stared directly into his eyes. Quatre stifled a painful scream at the rawness of Trowa's emotions, and begged instead to understand. "Trowa? Trowa, what's wrong?" Again another wave of pure guilt, agony, and pain washed over him, and he had to squeeze Trowa's knee to keep from giving voice to the emotions radiating off of Trowa. He offered a weak smile and asked again what was wrong. Trowa's eyes shot like lighting away from Quatre's, and for a moment, he could feel absolutely nothing from Trowa; which frightened him more than the pain. "Trowa, look at me. Tell me what's wrong." His partner, shook his head, and moved to wipe the tears from his eyes. Quatre intercepted his, and using gently strokes, brushed the fallen emotions from Trowa's glistening cheeks. He ran his hands through Trowa's hair, and felt him lean into his touch. Trowa would always need him, he had to stay strong. "You're going to absolutely despise me Quatre, but I had to do it. I had too." "Trowa, I'd never despise you, not ever. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out; we'll find a way to make it better. Don't worry Trowa, I promise I'll make it better, you don't have to worry." "No Quatre, you don't understand." His eyes fell way again, and he closed the book he'd been reading before handing it face down to him. Quatre turned it over, the feel of it familiar. The neatly scrawled letters of his name were etched across the bottom, and he knew then why Trowa was so upset. Not missing a beat, he turned to Trowa and looked at him. His lover could hardly meet his eyes. So with beautifully sculptured hands, Quatre wrapped his free hand around Trowa's cheek, and caressed it. "Oh Trowa, is this what you're so upset about?" He stalled for a moment, "Quatre, I thought it was best that I read them. I need to understand-" "Well of course you needed to read them! It's about time." Startled, Trowa looked to Quatre for an explanation, a stunned expression marring his beautiful face. "Oh Trowa, you can be so innocent sometimes. Really, if I hadn't wanted you to read them, why would I have placed them on our bookshelf? Why would I have left them without lock and right in your line of sight? I thought you'd read them long ago until recently." "But Quatre, they're your journals!" "Trowa," dropping the leather bound book on the floor, Quatre took Trowa's face into both of his hands, "All that I have is yours; I don't own a single thing that you can't touch, borrow, or take. Besides, I've wanted you to read them for so long." He felt his face flush, before he continued. "There's so many things in there that I've wanted you to know. Some are good, and some are bad. I guess I was just waiting for you to ask me about them. If you'd asked me a question, I would never have told you a lie, you know that don't you? Being honest with you means so much to me." "Then why Quatre, why didn't you tell me all this before? Why wait for me to open your personal journals to discover all your-your pain! Quatre, how can you stand it?!" "There were so many times I wanted to tell you something's." He paused, weighing his words carefully, "I guess I just wanted to make sure you were ready to hear the answers. Try to understand Trowa, before this entire mess with my sisters, the Will, and everything else, it's always been me who's had to take care of you. I don't mean to say you couldn't take care of yourself, but you've just always allowed me to do it for you. Don't misunderstand Trowa, I've loved being the one you came to, I love knowing that you trust me so much that you'd risk your own past to tell me everything. But I had to know-had to understand that you could-I don't know how to put it? I guess you could say, I needed to make sure that you could handle my.pain as well. I didn't want you to be burdened with my suffering along with your ow-" "Then you've done it again." Trowa's voice was defeated, as if he'd realized that he'd lost a battle he didn't know he'd been fighting until someone had died by his hands. "What do you mean?" Quatre could feel the anger unfold from Trowa. Almost rage, as he met his eyes. Involuntarily, he leaned away from him. "Trowa?" "Why Quatre?! Why would you do this? You've kept your entire past from me, hidden from sight behind a mask that I was supposed to be the only one that wore! I could have been there for you! I could have helped you! I would have been strong for you, Quatre! I would have pushed my own pain asi-" "NO Trowa! That's just it, I didn't want you to have to wait for your own pain. The most important thing in the world is that you're safe and-" "HAPPY! Do I look happy to you, Quatre?!" His words stung like a slap, and Quatre visibly flinched at the remark. "I was only trying to protect you." His voice was weak, so very weak. But Trowa heard it, sensed the pain and fear from him. He shook his head, and then took a deep breath. "Quatre, I am happy, you've made me happier than I ever imagined happiness could be, but look what it cost you! Your journals speak of a pain so intense it's almost tangible. We could have figured something out, we would have. I would move the Earth to protect you Quatre, you know that; but I need you--I need you healthy and happy with me. Otherwise what good is my own happiness if you're not part of it?" Quatre's head hung low, staring at the cream carpeting that Trowa had once looked so longingly at in the store front window. He'd bought it without a second thought and had it installed while Trowa had been on patrol. Quatre could remember Trowa's face clearly when he'd entered the room to find all the furniture pushed to the sides of the room, and himself laying right in the middle. That had been when they'd first gotten together, and Quatre could still remember pushing Trowa's long bangs away from his face to reveal the most amazing smile, that smile reserved only for him. "I only wanted to keep you happy Trowa, I only wanted you to stay safe. There's been so much pain in your past, I didn't want you to have to deal with mine until you were ready. That's why I recorded it all; that's why I left it where you could open it anytime. I knew one day you'd be strong enough to-to.help me, but I had to wait for you to come to me. I had to make sure you'd already conquered your own demons, before I'd let you try to conquer mine." "But that wasn't your decision Quatre. We should have talked about it-" "No, Trowa, pain is different from everything else. It's one of those things that can effect a person in more ways than one will ever admit. You had to decided when I'd be allowed into your pain, and I waited, because you needed to be able to come to me, to ask me for help. That's what I've done, I've kept my-my pain close, waiting until you and I could together handle it. Before, you weren't ready, you would have pictured your own pain against mine, not to compare or contrast, but you wouldn't have been able to help it. I needed to make sure that you wouldn't confuse it, I wouldn't risk my pain bringing about old memories for you. I knew this would happen, I've been prepared for it, but you, you didn't know, I wouldn't let you know. It was my decision to keep my feelings from you, and I did. I will not allow my pain to hurt you further." His mind told him it was logical, that he'd done everything in his power, everything he could to keep Trowa from getting hurt. But still he could feel the anger that Trowa was trying so desperately to control. Trowa didn' t understand, how could he? He hadn't been there, hadn't been the one to suffer the things he'd suffered, but Quatre knew, he understood the nature of both of their secrets. He knew that if Trowa were to have been introduced to his own past, both of them would have sunk under the weight of it all. So he'd waited, allowing Trowa's happiness to keep his suffering at bay while together they worked through his. The ability to suspend his own pain was not a luxury afforded to Trowa; it couldn't have been done the other way around. He'd had to suffer so that together, once Trowa's pain was vanquished, they could proceed to his. He'd always hoped that they would reach this point faster, sinking under the strain of fighting alone, but it was different now, Trowa was there, they were together. But he saw Trowa now and wondered if he should have said something sooner. His partner had been available to him for months now, giving the comfort rather than taking it. But he hadn't wanted to pressure him, had wanted Trowa to take the final initiative, to be willing to lose everything to save him. Also, he had no way of explaining why he hadn't told him sooner. Perhaps it was selfish, but he'd done it anyway, he'd needed this bit of reassurance. Trowa had braved the unknown for him, potentially sacrificed everything to help him, then maybe, just maybe, Trowa could survive the pain he'd been though, maybe, just maybe, Trowa would stay with him to the end. He needed someone he could trust, and now, at the end of this long road they 'd both traveled for so long, perhaps Quatre had found what he'd been searching for his whole life. Trust. Firm arms suddenly wrapped around his slim body and hauled him onto the couch. In a moment, Trowa had him resting snuggly against his body, pressed into every curve they both supported. "Quatre, may I talk, and you just listen?" He was startled by the request, it was a night of startling revelations, "Of course." "I want to tell you a few things, and then we're going to bed, and in the morning, we are going to come back out to this couch, and we are going to talk. Don't speak, just nod your head if you understand." Trowa had never once acted like this, and it was beginning to worry Quatre. The emotional turmoil that had been rolling off of his lover for the last few minutes, was now gone, replaced with a calm resignation that Quatre didn't want to understand. Deciding to do as Trowa asked, he nodded his head and waited for him to continue. "I love you. I never thought I'd ever know what love was until I met you. Quatre, you've been my world since the first day I met you. There were so many times, when you'd hold me at night and whisper promises of forever, that I felt so guilty that I couldn't promise those things back, that I couldn't put my feelings into words. I had no idea that you could feel all of my emotions; that you knew-even before I did-how I felt, how you made me feel. "Now, after everything we've been through together, I find out that I barely know you," Quatre tired to protest, "No, Quatre, just listen now, later we'll talk, just listen to what I have to say." At his nod, Trowa continued. "You've hidden so much of who you are from me; and yes it might have been to protect me, but to me it doesn't matter. Quatre, I would have done whatever it took to help ease your suffering, you know that, and maybe it's my fault that you didn't tell me anything about your past; but we could have worked it out. You've told me so many times that couples work things out together. "I never wanted you to know my pain either. I knew that you'd suffered greatly because of the ZERO, and I couldn't stand knowing that I would have to add to your pain. But you asked me to, begged me to come to you and explain so we could be together, and I did. I did it because I wanted to be with you, more than life, more than death. I laid my soul on the table for you because I knew that once we worked through the pain, once together we fixed it, we could be together. But now, now I find out that while I trusted you, you've never been able to trust me-" "NO! Trowa that isn't right-" "Quatre, quiet," his reprimand, gentle, "It is right. You've always been afraid that I wouldn't be able to handle your pain, you couldn't allow yourself to trust me, even though you desperately wanted to. I can't blame you Quatre. Everyone you've ever trusted has betrayed you, your father, your sisters; you've just been biding your time until I would too. That's the conclusion I came to, that's what I learned from reading your journals. You couldn't trust me without me proving myself to you; that's why you wrote it all down instead of telling me. You were forcing me to make a drastic leap that would prove my intentions towards you, prove that if I was willing to sacrifice our relationship, then I must be willing to lose everything to protect you, and could therefore gain your trust." Quatre shook his head, and struggled in Trowa's grasp. He was wrong, he couldn't be right. He loved Trowa, had trusted him with his life on more than one occasion, had participated in the physical act of love with him so many wonderful times. He would never have done that if he hadn't trusted him, hadn't loved him more than anything in the world. "Quatre, shhhhhhh. Don't struggle," Trowa's hands ran through his hair, and made tight circles along his back, it didn't help. He was trapped, trapped by Trowa, by his words, but mostly by himself. Just how right was Trowa? He'd only admitted to himself a few minutes before that he now completely trusted Trowa. Hadn't he trusted him before? Hadn't he believed in him completely before Trowa had read his journals? As if his lover could read his mind, Trowa answered for him. "Quatre I know you love me, I do. You've been there for me so many times, that even a fool could see how much you care for and adore me. But love doesn't breed trust, and that's what this is about. You've wanted to trust me, that's why you wanted me to read the journal, a test of how much you could trust me. But even if you don't know it yet Quatre, even if your mind and heart are still trying to figure it out, I want you to hear it from my lips; from my mouth, that has loved you and made promises that I will keep. "I love you, and trust you. I'll never leave you, not until you ask me too, and then-even then, I might not. I will love you, cherish you far beyond the day I die, and then in that place you call heaven, we'll still be together. You can trust me now Quatre, I've passed your test, the one you didn't want to admit to yourself; the one that's been keeping our relationship as you the caregiver, myself the care receiver. But the test is over Quatre, I've passed, and now you know you can rely on me, that I'll be there to love you, protect you, and that I'll never leave you. You can start to trust me now, Quatre. You can let me help you with the pain now." And then, it all clicked into place. He'd never realized what he'd been doing, didn't know he'd been the one to keep them from advancing to the next level. All the time he'd thought he was protecting Trowa, he'd really been protecting himself. Again he'd done what he said he'd never do again, he'd hurt Trowa, and he'd also hurt himself. He could feel the concern and true love radiating off Trowa, the shear magnitude of the revelation, shattered his blocks, and the full impact of everything Trowa had said came crashing against his weakened psyche. His hands flew to cover his heart, as a muffled scream issued from his throat. He felt Trowa clutch him tighter, sensed the shift in their positions as Trowa sat them up to frantically examining and call his name. "Quatre! Quatre, what's wrong!?" He wanted to call out, wanted to beg Trowa to stop feeling, to stop the pain that he was helpless to prevent. Quatre closed his eyes, weakening even further under the onslaught of Trowa's renewed fears. It was too much, too much for him to handle, he was so damaged, he hadn't realized it until his beloved had pointed out all the faults that he'd pressed upon their love, but he was truly broken. And as Trowa became more frantic, Quatre found he didn't have the strength to resist the temptation not to care anymore. His own pain, past, present, and future had been enough to nearly drive him to madness, but without Trowa 's shelter from the storm, he'd been unable to recharge his body. Now he was only a sapling in the hurricane that threatened to uproot and leave him defenseless. Trowa would be so sad. Eyes closed, gasping for breath, Quatre fought for Trowa, he'd always fight for Trowa. "Trowa," his voice was weak, but it kept his lover where he was, kneeling in front of the couch that he laid upon. "Quatre, what's happening?" "You-ahhhh-you have to-to-ca-calm down. I-I can't-not with-it's to much." The pain worsened, and Quatre let out a true scream as his world turned into one torturous emotion after another. So much pain, Trowa had been in so much pain, because of him, because he hadn't opened up to him, because he 'd tested him instead of believing in him, because he'd pushed him away in a misguided attempt to shelter them both. But more than that, his own pain, at being discovered, at finding out that he'd lied to himself all these years. So much of his life wasted; knowing that at first Trowa might not have been able to handle their combined pain, but for literally years he had been capable of it, and it was only his own fears that had prevented him from receiving the real comfort he'd so needed. Then, suddenly, the pain lessened, and a cool calmness spread over him. He felt Trowa's mind distanced from his, and the link that joined the two lovers, muffled to a dull roar. Quatre felt his own pain blanketed by a feeling of cool warmth, in a contrast that made him so comfortable, and made him feel so safe. Blackness crept around the edges of his vision as he opened his eyes to see Trowa leaning over him, his mouth moving, Quatre couldn't hear a word he said, but couldn't bring himself to care. The pain he'd felt for so long, that had been his constant companion since he was a child, had been lifted, not removed, but held suspended away from his touch. The relief was so great he couldn't prevent the blissful oblivion that descended around him. "Thank you.Trowa."