Disclaimers: Gundam Wing belongs to Sunrise. Any songs or quotes belong to their respective authors listed with them.

//_-

"Okay, Trowa, what was that all about?" Quatre asked once they were on the way in his limousine.

Trowa sighed and ran his hands over his face, then rested his chin in his palms. "It’s a long story."

Quatre frowned. "I’ve never seen you be so rude to a lady before! You guys seemed to be getting along fine last night, so what happened? And who is she, anyway?"

"That’s just the problem! I don’t know exactly who she is. I asked her to tell me last night, and she said she needed more time. I hate it that she won’t trust me," Trowa said, clearly agitated.

"Well, start at the beginning. Tell me all you know."

Trowa relayed all that had happened up until the night before, and Quatre listened attentively without interrupting. He continued, "Last night, I went upstairs soon after she left because I could see that something was troubling her. Quatre, she was—" he closed his eyes in anguish, "she looked like she was in so much pain! I held her as she cried, and I felt like there was nothing I could do. She said something about running away, and I asked her what she was running from. She wouldn’t tell me. She has these walls she puts up whenever I get too close. She used to shy away when I touched her, but I think we’ve made some progress because last night she let me hold her. But she still won’t trust me!"

Quatre furrowed his brow in sympathy for his friend. "Surely she wouldn’t cry in your arms and still not trust you. I thought you two were friends?"

"We are, but it’s not exactly a stable friendship. We agreed that we would trust each other eventually, when we are able to."

"Then you can’t rush her, Trowa, because that’s what you agreed on. However, I think that she does trust you. Maybe she’s afraid to tell you because she thinks you won’t care for her anymore if you knew the real Averil," Quatre said in a flow of intuition.

"I’m beginning to believe that it won’t matter who she is or what she’s done. I already care about her, and nothing’s going to change that. It’s just I want to know who has hurt her. Who is after her?"

"This just seems so simple to me," Quatre said, spreading his hands in his enthusiasm. "Just tell her that you care and that whatever she tells you won’t matter. Tell her you want to help her . . . protect her," he encouraged.

Trowa nodded, thankful for someone to talk to who so easily understood a situation with few details. "Thanks, Quatre. I’ll put it into consideration."

"Good!" Quatre smiled brightly, sensing that the subject was closed for the time being. "Now let’s enjoy ourselves. It’s not everyday that my friend Trowa visits."

Trowa smiled, feeling some of the stress from last night easing off his shoulders.

//_-

Morgan smiled like a snake. "We’ve just come for some answers," he said casually, then he hissed, "but this time we’re not accepting any of your little lies." He closed the door, and the sound echoed in Catherine’s ears like the sealing of her own coffin. She licked her lips, trying to think of a plan.

In a sudden movement, Boris pulled a pistol from his jacket while at the same time locking Hachi in one arm. He quickly placed the gun at her head as she let out a muffled scream. "Now you just give us some answers, and no one gets hurt," he growled at Catherine, staring her down with beady black eyes.

Catherine instinctively threw out a hand. "Stop! Oh please, don’t hurt her. She has nothing to do with this!" she pleaded, guilt flowing over her at her foolishness. She could have prevented this somehow.

"She’s going to have a lot to do with this if you don’t give us some answers now! Where is Lacy?" yelled Boris.

"I’ll tell you! I promise! Just let her go," cried Catherine, trying to keep a hold on the situation.

Morgan moved forward, pulling out his own pistol and pointing it directly between Catherine’s eyes. He stepped even closer, his gun only a foot away. "Let her go, Boris, she’s just a little girl and she doesn’t know anything. We’ve got this one, though," he said gruffly.

Boris pulled his gun away from Hachi’s head and told her, "You tell no one about this, or we’ll track you down like a dog, just like we’re tracking Lacy. Got that?"

She nodded mutely, tears of terror streaming down her cheeks. He roughly pushed her towards the door, and she was out of the room in a flash. Catherine breathed a sigh of relief that Hachi would be all right. Her eyes returned to the barrel that was leveled at her face. She forced herself to speak calmly, "I am not exactly sure where she is, but she’s supposed to be on Colony L4, at the Winner estate."

Once again, a grotesque smile returned to Morgan’s face. He reached out and grabbed her in a vice-like grip, never letting the gun fall from its target. He spoke cruelly, "Since we don’t know whether you’re telling the truth or not, ‘cause you seem to enjoy lying so much, we’re taking you with us."

Catherine closed her eyes, sending up a prayer for her own safety. She knew everything would turn out all right. Trowa would not appreciate any threats to his loved ones, and these guys would never know what hit them.

//_-

"Nooo!" Averil jerked violently awake, sitting up and clutching her head in her hands. "Oh God, no, please don’t let this happen," she pleaded. She’d quickly realized that it was a nightmare—a very horrible and realistic nightmare. Somehow the big boys had found out where she was, and they had taken Catherine hostage. No! I didn’t mean to get her involved in this! She began a frenzied sobbing, beating her fists on the bed. It seemed no matter what she did, she was always putting people in danger. She had to do something! But whom could she turn to? She stopped sobbing as suddenly as she had started. Her eyes traveled to the wall separating her from Trowa’s room. Surely he was sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of the fears that plagued her. Should she go wake him?

It would be awkward, because they had somehow managed to avoid each other the whole day. Trowa and Quatre had stayed out for several hours, then they had gone to dinner together, leaving her and Jazmin to themselves. Averil had gone to bed early in order to have some more time to think. She had made the decision to take Jazmin’s advice and tell Trowa everything, but she needed just one more night to sort things out, so she had avoided him. Now all she wanted to do was go talk to him, apologize, and let him comfort her like he had the night before. That is—if he would still want anything to do with her. She quickly repressed that negative thought and other ones like it. She had nothing left to do but hope that Trowa would understand. Yet it didn’t help her to be any braver.

She stepped out of the bed and onto the cold floor, shivering in the slightly cool night air. Wiping the remaining tears from her eyes, she made her way to Trowa’s door. She checked her watch. It was nearly midnight. He might still be awake. No answer came from inside when she tapped lightly on the door. Clinging to her courage like a concealing blanket, Averil quietly opened the door and stepped inside, closing it softly behind her. The moon lit up the room enough so that she could see Trowa lying in the bed, one half of his face silver from the moonlight, the other buried in shadows. His dark lashes fanned his cheek—he was asleep. She crept softly up to his bed and stood, a little unsure of how to wake him. However, she never had to try, because somehow Trowa knew she was there. He opened his eyes sleepily, turning to look up at her expectantly and not a little curiously.

Suddenly, her courage fell to her feet, leaving her with the excruciating nakedness of her own weakness and sadness, which in turn caused her voice and lips to tremble as she whispered, "Trowa?"

He sat up quickly. "What is it, Averil?" he asked, pulling her sweetly into his arms, all bruised feelings forgotten at the sight of her pain.
She looked him in the eyes, expecting anger or irritation, but seeing concern and compassion. She sighed and slowly wrapped her arms around his neck, then she laid her cheek against his chest. "I’m so sorry," she whispered.

He allowed her sweetness to blissfully sink in for one glorious moment of eternity. He didn’t realize how great the tension between them had been when they weren’t talking. He then nuzzled her neck and murmured back, "So am I."

She pulled away to look him in the eyes, still expecting a different response. "All’s forgiven?"

"All’s forgiven."

"Good, then I can say what I really came over here to say."

"What’s that?" he asked, unable to keep from smiling, and thinking that she’d never looked so beautiful with her hair mussed from sleep, the glow of moonlight on her ivory skin, and a watery smile illuminating her face.

"I’m ready to tell you everything," she stated bluntly.

He jerked a little in surprise, his hands tightening on her waist. He moved her so that she leaned against the headboard beside him. "What made you change your mind?" he asked.

"Just now I had a really awful nightmare," she said, her voice trembling again. Trowa reflexively wrapped an arm around her and smoothed her hair away from her tear-stained cheeks. "Trowa, I’m really scared."

"What are you afraid of?" he asked, exulting in the fact that, contrary to what he had thought, she did trust him.

"I-I’m being chased, or hunted down, depending upon if they know where I am."

"‘They?’" he asked hesitantly, realizing that they had returned to where they left off the night before. This was shaky ground.

Averil let out a breath, finding it easier to talk than she thought it would be. Trowa was so gentle. She continued, "Let me just start at the beginning. Trowa, the name that you would probably recognize me by is Lacy Kraten, daughter of multimillionaire Xavier Kraten who owns Equus Wagers." She paused, waiting for his reaction.

"So that’s why you looked familiar," Trowa commented, echoing what Catherine had said. "But why are you running?" He quickly began to bring up every fact that he knew about Kraten and his business, trying to figure out this mystery.

Averil stared down at her hands twisting in her lap. "I-I . . ." Ugh! All of her worries came back, and she couldn’t find the words to say it. Trowa, realizing her dismay, reached with his free hand and took one of her hands in his own, intimately lacing their fingers—effectively yet silently letting Averil know that he would not judge her. Her worries vanished and she continued, "I am not really Kraten’s daughter. He is only my stepfather. My real father died from a heart attack when I was ten. My mother only married Kraten because he sought after her, and she was too meek to refuse him. He’s a very forceful man. He only wanted her for her looks and her social status. My father’s family was the greatest horse breeders since the beginning of the colonies, and my father even more greatly heightened the name of O’Hare. You see my real name is Averil O’Hare, so I never lied about that. Lacy is my middle name, and Kraten wanted me to go by it because he thought it fit my character better. Rather, it fit the person that he wanted me to be. But I’m not really that person, Trowa! I’m not like that at all!"

"And who is that person?" he asked patiently.

"The one you saw on TV all the time—the one who wears the fancy dresses and hats with her nose high in the air, that’s Lacy. Kraten made me be someone I’m not. He used my looks to bribe the jockeys of the most highly betted on horses to lose so that he’d take in all the bets placed in Equus Wagers."

"What did he make you do?"

"I had to be their escort for a night of lavish, aristocratic parties for a bunch of snobs. I never slept with them, though Kraten tried to convince me," she spat out bitterly. Trowa gritted his teeth together in anger. "Yet I’m not so vain to think that they’d purposely lose a race just because of me. Kraten also paid them large sums of money, though their payment didn’t even compare to the money he piled in from it. Sometimes he used what he called ‘persuasion.’ In other words, he’d threaten them if they wouldn’t agree. My job was to give the men false promises, and they almost always fell for it! It appeared that I always had a new ‘flavor of the week.’"

"How did Kraten force you to do it?"

She frowned. "He threatened to hurt me or my mom. But I’m not innocent! I could’ve done something!" she cried passionately, "I just ran from it instead!" She pulled her hands from his and covered her face in shame and despair.

"Has he hurt your mother since you left?"

"I don’t know! All I know is that he’s sent out his big boys, Morgan and Boris, to hunt me down. I don’t know what will happen if they find me."

Fear clutched at Trowa’s heart, and he pulled her closer. He had never in his entire life feared for his own safety, but for the people he loved . . . "Has Kraten ever followed through on any of his threats before?"

Averil dropped her hands, and her eyes, filled with trepidation, were enough to answer his question. "Yes, he’s killed several men before." Once again she lowered her head in shame, "And I just stood and watched it happen. I didn’t call the police or anything! I’m such a coward!" She wrapped her arms around him and hid her face in his chest.

Trowa returned the embrace, holding her a moment before saying, "I’m sure that if you would have had someone to protect you, that you would have been brave enough to stand up to Kraten and turn him in." If only I had been there . . .

"But I wasn’t. I wanted to make things right. I still do. I want to turn Kraten in, but I’m worried about my mom. I’d have to get her safe first. And I’m so scared of him, nearly as much as my mother is. Will you help me, Trowa? You’re the only person I know that could protect me . . . I can’t do this without you."

Trowa lifted Averil’s chin so that green could meet violet, their hands quickly interlocking again. "I will," he promised, so intensely that a thousand promises could have been made in those two words. Although he didn’t talk much, when he did, it was worth the time to listen. Waves of newfound strength and courage washed over Averil with an almost physical force, causing her to close her eyes at the exquisite and unfamiliar sensation. She was amazed at how one person could so perfectly embody every hope and dream she’d ever had—a man who gave her respect, protection, affection, and unconditional love. A delighted tremor raced through her body as she felt him press his lips warmly to her tearstained cheeks. With one sweep of his strong arms, she was lifted and cradled against him. His eyes rarely left hers as he carried her to her bed and pulled the covers around her.

He wanted so badly to kiss her, to tell her in that unspoken way how fierce and sincere his vow was. It was eminently more meaningful for him to communicate by doing something, rather than just saying it. Words could be so false. Yet in this case, he didn’t think Averil was ready for that kind of touch. He wasn’t doing this for her body—he was doing it for her, and she was so much more than just a beautiful body. She had a soul—sweet and hopeful and caring. She had to know that everything about her was special to him before he pursued her in that way. One day she would not be so fragile, but for now her pain and the memories were still too keen. So instead of kissing her, he ran one hand through the silky red locks that had become so beloved to him, deeming it inadequate, but appropriate. "We’ll make plans in the morning. Is that alright?" he asked.

"Yes . . . and thank you," she murmured, feeling incredibly cherished.

With one last stroke of her hair, he stood and bid her goodnight, leaving her to sleep serenely once again.

//_-

When your days are dark

And your nights are cold

When you’ve just about

Lost all your faith

When your will is gone

And your heart is torn

‘Cause nothing is going your way

When the world has

Got you trapped

And you can’t find that open door

If you’re ever in a battle

And you just can’t fight no more

I will rescue you

I will rescue you

I will shelter you from the rain

I will dry your tears

Cast away your fears

And bring you to brighter days

Whenever you’re lost and confused

Like a fairy tale come true

I will rescue you

If you ever feel

That you can’t go on

When your life just

Becomes too hard

And the dreams you thought

Were within your reach

Suddenly seem so far

When the world is on your case

And you don’t have

A place to run

If the storm keeps getting stronger

And you cannot see the sun

I will rescue you

I will rescue you

I will shelter you from the rain

I will dry your tears

Cast away your fears

And bring you to brighter days

Whenever you’re lost and confused

Like a fairy tale come true

I will rescue you

And it don’t matter where you are

I’ll be by your side

Oh yes I will

I’ll be the rock that you can lean on

I’ll be your guide

I will rescue you

I will rescue you

I will shelter you from the rain

I will dry your tears

Cast away your fears

And bring you to brighter days

Whenever you’re lost and confused

Like a fairy tale come true

I will rescue you

Just reach for me

And I will rescue you

//_-

Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.

-Zora Neale Hurston

The first symptom of love in a young man is timidity; in a girl boldness.

-Victor Hugo

It is better to be loved than feared.

-Senegalese saying

Love takes off the mask that we fear we cannot live with and know we cannot live without.

-Robert Slater

Women are never stronger than when they arm themselves with their weakness.

-Marie de Vichy-Chamrond, Marquise du Deffand

Author’s Notes: I hope you’re enjoying the story so far. If you know of any Trowa sites or good Gundam Wing fanfiction sites where I can post this fic, then please email me with your ideas. If you have any comments or flames, review/email me. I can take criticism and I love compliments. Thanks for reading, and God bless!

To Be Continued