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"Secrets"Written By: Honor Disclaimers: All of those who agree that the boys
should belong to me say “Aye!” Pairings: 3x4 Spoilers: Nope. Warnings: Lemon, yaoiness, bit of language, AU,
I wrote it (duh). Rating: NC-17 Betas: Lucy and Velvet Archived: Gundam Wing Diaries Author’s Notes: Driving an hour to and from work is dangerous. It gives the plot bunnies time to play. For people who love a build-up of a 3x4…here you go! Oh, and just so you know, I’m putting a whole new spin on empathy, telepathy and whatnot. *grin* That’s your only hint. /other people’s thoughts/ //Trowa’s or Quatre’s thoughts// <phone> <<mental conversations>>
"Secrets " Chapter Ten: Puzzles
Quatre flushed. “Um…mostly.” “Hn. Sit down, both of you.” Trowa relaxed on the couch facing him, pulling Quatre comfortably into his arms. Wufei waited until they were settled before shutting the lid to the laptop and removing his glasses. “The house is empty, for the moment. I want to ask some questions.” Quatre nodded. “Go ahead.” “How exactly do you maintain your shields?” Quatre opened his mouth to respond, then slowly closed it again. “I…don’t know.” “I do,” Trowa responded quietly. “He built his out of instinct and desperation, as did I. But I’ve studied his. It’s a type of psychic energy, a side-effect of our abilities that sustains the shield. When we use our abilities, the shield drops some because the energy that usually maintains it is being used.” “But when you aren’t, and the ability is temporarily dormant, then that excess energy is being used to support the shield,” Wufei murmured in interest. “And the shield itself?” “It’s just…there,” Trowa said helplessly. “Like my ability is just there.” “Then why could you not shield in the beginning?” “It’s raw potential,” Quatre explained. “Much like our ability is raw potential. We had to develop them—just like we had to develop our shields.” Trowa nodded in agreement with this. “The tricky part with the shields is that it requires energy to maintain them. It takes several years before we’re strong enough to produce the necessary amount of energy to maintain the shield.” “Incredible,” Wufei breathed in wonder. Thousands of cases that he had read were spinning through his head. “No wonder so many people with lesser abilities don’t survive them, or don’t cope well. They aren’t strong enough to do so.” Quatre shrugged helplessly with palms spread. “I’m not sure if you can assume that. It’s just how it worked for us.” Wufei wasn’t certain if it was really that large of an assumption, but decided not to press it. More research would prove the point one way or the other. “So? Why do they break down when you are physically touched?” “Um…well, the shields don’t work as well when we come into contact physically.” Quatre frowned, trying to put into words something he only felt. “It’s like…putting an electric charge next to rubber. People, themselves, are not conductive to psychic energy. They absorb it. Cloth isn’t as bad as bare skin.” “Ah. And that’s why you are able to ‘re-establish’ your shields through physical touch.” “It turns them off so that we can make physical changes to them,” Trowa confirmed. “Much like you would turn off a car before tuning the engine.” “Is that how you started to alter them in the beginning?” Quatre fought against another blush. Wufei was smirking at them in this *knowing* way that made him feel a little self-conscious. “Ah, well, yes.” “Hn.” Wufei sat back, drumming his fingers against the armchair. “I have a theory that your shields, as they are now, will not change much.” Quatre and Trowa shared a look. “Why?” Trowa demanded. “Because Quatre has exactly what he wants,” Wufei replied softly. “What?” they both exclaimed. “Trowa, you are a telepath,” Wufei explained bluntly. “You have to alter your shields consciously, with your thoughts. It’s just the way your ability works. But Quatre is an empath. His ability is completely focused on emotion—” “—even the shields,” Trowa breathed in realization. Quatre’s head was spinning like a top. “You mean…this was my doing?” “The reason why it didn’t affect Trowa as badly as it did you was because his shields weren’t entirely grounded on you,” Wufei confirmed. “But you—in your desire to tie Trowa as close to you as possible, made him your focal point so that you could *not* be separated. Ever. That’s what you felt, and your ability listened to that.” Quatre was nearly shaking at the realization. He hadn’t even realized— <<Of course not, love,>> Trowa’s whisper came to him. <<We often act on our emotions without ever thinking it through.>> “That is not to say,” Wufei continued solemnly, “that Trowa would have escaped unscathed. The majority of his shields, according to my observations, were pinned to you. I think it might be because of his belief that your shields are stronger than his. He didn’t try to carry his own after the two of you became involved. He simply leant his power to you, allowing you to maintain them.” Trowa ducked his head. “It seemed easier, that way. He was maintaining them anyway—but he was draining himself doing it. I thought the least I could do was pour over my extra energy to him.” “You might have been able to re-build your shields and continued on.” Trowa shook his head firmly. “Not without him.” Wufei felt that twang of envy again. To love like that… he shook it off and concluded. “Knowing the reasons doesn’t alter the fact that you cannot be separated. I can now say with complete certainty that it will kill both of you.” Trowa pressed a kiss to Quatre’s temple. “I can live with that.” Quatre smiled warmly. “So can I. So what do you suggest we do next?” Wufei set his jaw. “I want you both to live here, for at least a year.” “Why?” Quatre reached out with his ability without thinking. The man across from him was a mass of determination, worry, curiosity—anxiety. “To study us further?” Wufei nodded. “And to protect you, give you the peace that you need. You’ve both said it yourselves—it’s difficult for you to ‘hear’ me. The area is remote enough that you won’t have many people trying to press in on you. And if something else goes wrong, then either I or Sally can step in to help. We have the authority and expertise to shut up anyone that tries to argue with us.” Trowa nodded. <<He has a point.>> <<Several,>> Quatre agreed thoughtfully. <<I’d like to stay, actually. I feel…comfortable, here.>> “How do you plan to work this?” Trowa asked. Wufei smirked. + “Where is my son?!” A deep voice demanded. It echoed clearly down the hallways and to the back patio, where the two lovers had been relaxing in the sun. Quatre groaned, hand pressed against his forehead. <<My father is here.>> <<I hope you aren’t insulted by the fact that I don’t like him,>> Trowa grumbled caustically. <<Not really. I usually don’t like him either.>> Quatre straightened his shoulders, head held higher. <<Right. Let’s get this over with.>> “Where is Trowa?” The two stopped and looked at each other. Trowa’s mother was here as well. Hm. Trowa reached out, but didn’t feel his father anywhere. He must have sent his wife to investigate about his son. Typical. Quatre wrapped his fingers around his lover’s as they walked from the back porch to the living room. Henry Winner was standing near the foyer, looming ominously over Wufei. The Chinese doctor didn’t appear particularly cowed, however. He was turned towards Trowa’s mother, manner alert and respectful. “If you would both sit, I have a great deal to tell you. And your sons have a great deal of explaining to do.” Francis’s brow furrowed slightly in worry. “Why? What has he done?” “It’s not what I’ve done, really,” Trowa stated as they moved into view. His lips twisted wryly. “It’s what I am.” Francis rushed forward in relief, hugging him tightly. Trowa returned the tight embrace, pleasantly surprised at the gesture. His parents had never really been physically demonstrative with him. She pulled back to look him over. “You’re too pale, and thinner. What’s happened? Why are you *here*?” “Because I needed him,” Quatre answered softly. Francis turned, alarmed at how pale the blond was. She hugged him too, heart aching to see him in such a state. “Why? I don’t understand any of this.” “Quatre, let’s go,” Henry ordered brusquely. “I can’t, Father.” Quatre looked up with weary eyes. “For once in your life, Winner, you’re going to sit down and listen,” Wufei growled. “You can’t bull your way through this problem and have everything turn out alright. Mrs. Barton, if you would join us?” Normally Henry would have ignored the man, but there was something about the way they were talking that made him think more was going on here than he knew. Information was always vital, so he sat down as ordered. But he wasn’t happy about it. Wufei nodded in satisfaction, seeing Quatre and Trowa settled on the love seat with Mrs. Barton in another chair before he took the last chair. “Trowa, you start.” Blowing out a breath, he turned to look at his mother. “I’m a telepath.” Quatre groaned. <<Couldn’t you have softened the blow a little?>> <<Fine, you tell her.>> Francis Barton’s jaw was hanging somewhere in China. When she pulled it back where it was supposed to be she managed in a croaked voice, “How long?” “Since I was eight.” Trowa knew he was going to get another elbow in the ribs unless he added more detail. “It was erratic, and hard to control. I’ve refined it since then.” “He is the strongest telepath in recorded history,” Wufei added quietly. “His range covers three hundred miles—most telepaths have to touch someone in order to hear their thoughts.” Francis was practically shaking in realization. So her son’s behavior was because of his ability? His withdrawn silence, the way he avoided people, all of that was because of… “Yes,” Trowa confirmed softly. Her eyes flew up to his. /You can hear exactly what I’m thinking, can’t you?/ “There are very few people that I can’t hear.” Trowa shrugged in resignation. Quatre didn’t need Wufei’s pointed look to know it was his turn. “And I am an empath.” Henry’s brows snapped together. “What kind of nonsense is this?” Quatre groaned. Why couldn’t his father make anything easy? “You have four men outside, all of them bored and worried about me. One of them shocked himself against the car door a second ago.” Only years dealing in the business world allowed Henry Winner to keep his expression somewhat closed. The car was parked away from the house, out of view. There was no way that his son could know any of that, unless… “How strong are you?” “My range is the same as Trowa’s,” Quatre answered succinctly. “Impossible,” Henry snarled. “There is no history of that sort of thing in our family.” “There doesn’t have to be,” Wufei interceded neatly. “Often the strongest people appear in a line that doesn’t have even a hint of ESP. Their strength and control is highly unusual, but not impossible.” “How do you know so much about this?” Francis inquired hesitantly. She was beginning to wrap her mind around the concept of her son being a telepath, but it would take time for her to truly feel comfortable with it. “I am a doctor in parapsychology.” “I’m tired of this nonsense. Quatre, we’re leaving.” “He is not going with you,” Trowa snapped at him. One arm went around the blond’s waist in blatant possession. “The hell he isn’t!” “Sit down, Winner,” Wufei’s voice lashed out. “You still don’t know everything.” “And what more is there?! My son’s a freak!” “It was his ability that nearly killed him,” Wufei answered heatedly. Henry sat down abruptly, face draining of all color. “What?” “Five months ago,” Quatre started steadily, “Trowa and I confessed our darkest secrets to each other. Our abilities. As we became closer, we decided to alter our shields to include each other.” He faltered, casting a glance towards Wufei for help. He simply did not feel up to explaining everything to his hostile parent. “They did it a little too well,” Wufei picked up smoothly. “Quatre’s ability to shield against emotions now entirely depends on Trowa’s presence. The same is true for Trowa.” “Why did you do such a thing?” Francis demanded. “If your ‘shields’ were already working—” “They weren’t,” Trowa replied heavily. “At least, mine weren’t. I could shield to a degree, but Quatre’s were stronger than mine. It was to help me that we blended them. And…” “He couldn’t hear me,” Quatre added, taking Trowa’s hand in his and giving him a smile. “I couldn’t feel him, either. It was quite frustrating to us, since we *wanted* to hear and feel each other.” “You did this deliberately!” Henry accused. Damn it, everything was spinning out of control and he couldn’t seem to grasp it and yank it back into line. “…perhaps I did.” “WHAT?!” “I knew you’d try to take me away from him!” Quatre’s calm demeanor broke. He was becoming angry with his father, and desperate to explain to him and Francis what was going on. They couldn’t take Trowa away from him! He had to explain, he had to— “You would never understand how much I love him, need him in my life. I was so afraid that you’d manage it somehow that I—” he gulped for a breath “—I made him everything. My shield, my safety net…everything.” Trowa wrapped both arms around him, stroking his back soothingly. <<It’ll be alright, Quatre. Shh.>> “He means that literally, Winner.” Wufei shot the man a dark look. “If you separate them for more than a day, then they lose all ability to shield. You’ve seen for yourself the effect that has. Within five or six days, Quatre will die. Trowa wouldn’t last much longer.” “Break it,” Henry demanded. A ripple of unease wormed under his skin. He didn’t like what he was hearing at all. He never wanted to see Quatre like he had seen him two days ago. “Impossible,” Wufei returned flatly. “It would kill them to try. Quatre’s ability is governed completely by emotion—he loves Trowa, and is completely unwilling to be separated from him. As long as that emotion is there, you can’t break that bond.” “So what happens now? What do you recommend?” Wufei turned to Francis, grateful that there was at least *one* rational parent he could deal with. “I highly recommend that they stay here, for at least a year. There is another doctor here that knows of their situation. If anything happens to them, either she or I can handle it easier than you can. Within a year, I think their bond will have stabilized enough that they can continue with a normal life.” “Nothing about this is normal!” Wufei’s temper snapped. “If you say one more asinine thing, Winner, I’ll toss you out on your ear!” Trowa looked him dead in the eye. <<Be quiet. Your stubbornness is hurting Quatre, and that is something I will not forgive.>> Henry’s eyes went wide. Hoarsely he commanded, “Get out of my head.” “Shut up, then,” Trowa returned in a level voice. Francis was feeling rather irritated with the other man as well. Taking a deep breath, she resolved to ignore him and looked to her son. “What do you think?” “He’s right,” Trowa told her with a glance in Wufei’s direction. “Our bond with each other is still highly unstable. It requires a lot of attention, and energy. It…changed, when we were separated.” “We need time, and peace, to figure it out again.” Quatre pasted a smile on his face for her. “Wufei is invaluable in this—we can’t hear him unless we really try and this house is very isolated. He knows better than we do what we need and what to do if something goes wrong.” Francis sighed. “I don’t like the idea of this entirely, I must admit. But…it appears I don’t have much of a choice. You’ll have to come back with me temporarily to pack up your things.” Quatre shook his head. “A plane would be rather painful right now. So would a crowded freeway. Our shields are still a little battered. They’re only working as well as they are now because of our relative isolation. Rashid can pack up his things, as well as mine.” “…alright.” Quatre pulled free of his lover to sink in front of her and take both of her hands in his. “I’m sorry. I never meant to take him from you like this.” “He was yours from the first moment you two met, Quatre.” Francis smiled a little wanly. “I could see that. I just wish that the situation wasn’t quite so desperate.” “It isn’t,” Trowa told her quietly. “We did this to ourselves. We wanted to be tied to each other.” “If you did it on purpose, you can undo it as well,” Henry snarled. “Trowa could,” Wufei granted. “Although it would be very difficult, and it would take him a long time to recover. But I know that he won’t. Quatre can’t. Listen to what I am saying, Winner. Your son CAN NOT be separated from Trowa. It would be the same effect as shooting him. Unless you want to pay for a funeral, I suggest you resign yourself to this.” Face contorting, he stood up and stormed out of the room. A moment later the front door slammed. Quatre frowned as he realized that Wufei was nearly sparkling with glee. “Wufei, what are you up to?” The man actually grinned at him. “Haven’t you wondered where your sisters are?” Actually, he had been so focused on his father that he hadn’t. “Where are they?” “The courthouse. I think Iria should manage to declare you a legal adult in another, oh,” he casually checked his watch, “fifteen minutes or so.” Quatre started laughing softly. “You are a devious man, Chang Wufei.” “It’s part of my charm,” he returned in a dry tone. “Rashid, by the by, is already on his way back to your houses to pack up your belongings and Trowa’s.” “Have you thought of everything?” Trowa inquired in amused tones. “I’m simply trying to out maneuver Winner right now.” “I think you managed it,” Francis murmured in bemusement. Wufei relaxed into his seat, hands steepled and a smile tugging at his mouth. “Why, yes…I have.” ~*~*~*~
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