SUMMARY: 3x4, Quatre’s a girl forced to be a boy, and her father disproves of her relationship with Trowa. Problem is, Trowa doesn’t know she’s a girl, either.

DISCLAIMER: stands for entire fic. I don’t own.

CONFRONTATION

The heavy oak door to the stuffy, dim, and closed up study opened. In entered a thin, aging man with dark brown hair and a wiry mustache in a tweed suit. Angrily, he crossed the well cared for, expensive red carpet to loom over the small figure huddled in the high backed, leather upholstered chair. "You just can't be good and obey, can you? I don't know what to do with you anymore. None of my punishments work. If I disowned you, you'd be happy."

The delicate creature flinched then stiffened its pale, slender body. After a few moments fo silence, the small blonde head rose and Lord Winner found himself staring at two big, blue and teary eyes. He felt his hear rench at the confusion and pain in those saphire orbs. Just like the child's mother's had been....He looked over his youngest child's head.

"Daddy. Look at me." Lord Winner, startled, took a step back from the soft, breathy voice.

The child paused, as if afraid to go on. "You say I must be good and obey. But all I've done was to fall in love with."

That snapped Lord Winner out of his buried memories. He found his anger instead of melancholy, lamenting sorrow. "With another boy! I'll not have my only heir running about as a homosexual!"

Tears still spilled from the vulnerable eyes, the soft lips trembling in that cherub face, and the fine hands ahad a fierce grip on the hard, polished wood. "Daddy, I'm not a boy. And that's the problem. Not me. You."

The child bravely rose and came foward, head lowered. Lord Winner backed up until his back was against the shut door. "Why can't you just obey like your 29 sisters? They're good girls. Why do you have to be such a bad boy?"

"You've never loved me! Look at me! Look at what you've had done to me, just so my sisters would have the inheritance money. Look at me, Daddy, at me. Honestly look at me and see whata you've created."

"NO!!!" he roared in a deep, authortarian voice that usually caused the 15 year old to cow. The little one trembled, but didn't back down. "You're a boy! My only son and heir!" he bellowed and struck the small body, which fell to the ground. Soft sobs filled the extending silence, one in shock and the other in pain. Shocked and guilt-filled, Lord Winner's voice softened as Quatre refused to meet his eyes, keeping his head lowered and wiping at his bloody nose. "Quatre...."

The little platinum head lifted, face flushed from tears and one cheek was red from the slap. The hands trembled as the gripped the boy's dress shirt. "Daddy, Look at me. Just because I'm a test -tube baby doesn't mean you can mold me to your will." Lord Winner said nothing to that. The other 29 were good and obediant daughters, but this one...this one had a mind and will of her own. "DON'T YOU DARE!!!!!" he suddenly hollered when he realized what she was going to do. He was too late. Quatre pulled apart her shirt, the buttons popping off and revealing her flat, scarred chest. Where breasts should've been were circular, white flat scars, and on her slender stomach was a long line scar where the hysterectomy had been performed just before she'd reached puberty.

Quatre broke down crying and fell to her khaki clad knees, her little body quivering before her father. "I tried to please you. I wanted to make you proud of me. But I'm not a boy. Why? Why can't I just be me?" she buried her face in her arms and rocked as she cried.

Lord Winner stood silent, not bothering to comfort his 30th child and only son. This one was more trouble than all the others combined. That's what he got for trying to make the little butterfly into something it wasn't. The delicate creature withered and died. Yet those fragile wings still seemed able to fly, unfortunately. He had to break that spirit, that last shred of defiance, or else the family would loose all of his hard earned money, wealth, power, and influence. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let all of his hard work and sacrifice be in vain.

He turned to go out the door. "You're forbidden to ever see that boy again." He said as he left.

"His name is Trowa!!!" Quatre gasped out between sobs to the closed door. She clutched at here scarred, flat chest, covering it as if she could hid the hideous, unnatural marrings which marked her as neither male nor female, but somewhere in between. She tried with shaking fingers to fasten the shirt, but the buttons were gone, popped off in her desperate, futile act to get Daddy to look at her and realize what'd he'd created.

Giving up, her heart in too much pain for her to do much else, Quatre curled up in a trembling ball and sobbed. She knew, deep down, that Daddy would never understand or see from her point of view....she'd be trapped like this, always. And Trowa...if he ever found out the truth...she shuddered...she didn't want to loose his love. He was the only thing she had in this world to cling to. The only reason she had to live. She sobbed harder. Her entire life was just a lie, and she had no choice but to live it. Her tears caused her voice to become shaky as she prayed for God to save her from her lies.