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"Transcendent Series"Written By: Dentelle_noir Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing AC or the
characters. GW belongs to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. This
is a work of fiction and written for fun, not profit Rating: R Warnings: Chibi Fluff and cuteness Pairings: 3x4 Summary: Science tells us that ghosts and apparitions
live and move among us constantly, but only certain people can see
and sense them. Quatre has been able to see Trowa since before he
can remember, but no one else can. What exactly is Trowa? "Transcendent Series" Part 1 “Why don’t you ever stay long, Trowa? I miss you. You’re my only friend.” Quatre asked out loud, not even needing to make visual contact with his ‘imaginary’ friend (as his mom told him repeatedly). He could feel Trowa’s presence easily enough in his room, even though he had just appeared. Trowa walked over to Quatre’s coloring table, and sat down. He shrugged. Quatre chose a red crayon this time, handing it over to Trowa to silently ask him to color in the bucket while Quatre did the shovel in what Crayola proclaimed was ‘sunshine yellow’. It was his favorite crayon. Trowa never answered those questions anymore. Quatre didn’t remember when Trowa first started coming over to play. It seemed he always just did. He couldn’t ask his mom, either, because she never saw Trowa, even when he was standing right there, so she wouldn’t remember when he began to visit. It was just the way things were. Once Trowa answered that he never stayed long because his mom got worried and made him take big ugly pills. Trowa had brought one of the pills with him once, stuffed down the pocket of his Oshkosh overalls, and it was almost as big as Quatre’s pinky. Trowa said when he came too many times in one day and his mom caught him that she made him take 3 or 4 a day. He had never really talked about where he came from since then. He just appeared. And Quatre loved each and every visit. Trowa had stopped coloring, and looked at Quatre’s clock, seeing it was five minutes to 9; five minutes until Quatre’s bedtime. He finished the bucket quickly, and then raced to help Quatre pull down his covers, find pajamas, and then with Quatre’s smile of encouragement, Trowa rummaged through Quatre’s books to choose tonight’s story. Quatre always loved it when Trowa stayed for bedtime, it was just like the sleepovers his sisters loved. Trowa always seemed to show up just when Quatre felt the loneliest, and often that was right before bed, when he had to wait and wait for his mom to put the dishes into the dishwasher, finish helping his other sister’s with their homework, find Dad’s slippers, and watch his sister Maria brush her teeth (cause she would cheat and not do it if Mom didn’t watch her), all before his mom would drag herself into his room to tuck him in and read him a story. Tonight was no different. He and Trowa played dinosaurs on his bed until 9:25 when his mom came in and sat down behind her son. Trowa scooted to his favorite place, curled like a housecat at the end of the bed, and waited patiently for Quatre’s mom to begin to read. Quatre handed her the book Trowa had picked out, “One of your favorites, Quat?” She said. Quatre smiled and shook his head, “No. It’s Trowa’s favorite!” He answered. She nodded in the way adults do when they don’t believe a word and began to read. It was his and Trowa’s second favorite thing, both of them saying along “We are here, We are here” with the whos living on the flower. No one but Horton saw them. No one heard them until they all cried with all their hearts as one. Trowa never missed it once, always seeming to say “I am here” louder every time, wishing Quatre’s mom, or anyone else, could hear him. Quatre could hear him though, and he knew he was there.
Even if no one else believed him. No one believed Horton, either.
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