PEACE BY WHAT NAME
 

 Quatre fell back from the severe blow, his eyes widening.  He glanced up at his husband with a bewildered look, only to quickly look down once more.  He knew what this was about…

 Trowa was usually an even-tempered person, but there were things that threw him over the edge, and rightly so in regards to the new situation…

It had been two years ago when the motion had started; Quatre had given his company’s support with hopes of creating a galaxy without war or brutality.  Though it was a just cause…it created problems.

///
 “…L2 is the greatest fear we have,” the president concluded, “with their many swings in economy, power struggles, and views they will most likely revolt against the government.  They are a great threat.”

“What about education?  Could we not pool our resources for that?  Surely such a move will steer them from war.”

“I don’t know if that will be enough.  Most may not be able to pay anything back, or perhaps not even have a time allowance for education.”

The president sighed in desperation; “There is not much that we could do.  Even if we do as much as possible, it would take time.  Time that we may not be able to afford.”

 Everyone in this radical group agreed that action had to be taken.  But no peaceful idea would work quickly when analyzed.

“Perhaps we should dispose of them,”

 ///
 

 He hadn’t learned about it until months ago; it had been a private meeting between the movement’s creators.  Quatre had helped to fund them because of their support for peace, or rather what they thought was peace.  Had he known of this, he would’ve ignored the group and stuck to the preventers.

 “Do you call this peace, Quatre?” Trowa asked with an intense tone, holding up the news.  “To sentence people to death for speculation?”

 Sighing, Quatre forced himself to stand up straight, and look into those angry eyes.  “I didn’t know anything about it, Trowa.  If I had, do you honestly think I would’ve given anything to them?”

 Trowa did not appear fazed by these words; though his eyes had changed from angry, to cold.  Turning, he walked from the desk, to the large window in his husband’s office, saying nothing in reply.

 “The funding has stopped Trowa, I’ve got nothing to do with them anymore.”

 “Most of the colony has still been blown up, Quatre,” came the bitter answer.

 Quatre’s head dropped, and his shoulders sagged.  “I know it has…” He said softly,  “at least the preventers were able to stop some of it.  I did notify them Trowa.”

 Trowa’s eyes flashed once more.  Could he see?  It didn’t matter…those people were still gone!  How could such a pacifist let this go on underneath his nose?  A year or two ago, he’d believed the man to be quite bright.

“Why must you always find some excuse to justify things?  You know as well as I that if you’d have been more careful, no one at all would’ve gotten hurt.  You had a great part in this mess, and you will not be able to take that fact away by notifying someone else to clean up.”

 Quatre opened his mouth in near shock, but stayed completely silent.  His blue eyes quickly turned cold as the words repeated within his head.  Studying his lover, he decided to delay this conversation until the anger was gone, when both had themselves under control.

 Quietly, he walked out of the room, telling his secretary that he was taking leave for the day.  It was already passed his time; the clock overhead chimed ten in the silent work area.  Most had left before, but those who were still there glanced up once in a while at their boss, or to the office where Trowa stood in the doorway.

 As the fair-haired man began making up the couch for his rest, he knew that the argument coming from Duo would be a much harsher one.
 
 
 
 
 
 

***

 Trowa laid in their bed, staring at the wall which separated him from whom he was angry with.  While he had calmed down since that afternoon, he could not get himself to forgive what was done.  Quatre was remarkable with business.  It seemed impossible that this man could be so irresponsible in trusting that group.  But then, he had changed a bit since the latest after shock of war…

////

 “Why can’t the colonies understand?  Why?”  An older Sandrock pilot cried.  After five years of war, still no one would back down.  The latest mission had set him directly in the middle of the fighting.  Additional forces had been added since the beginning: new factions, and more hatred.  The blood spilling seemingly far from over.

Needless to say, Quatre was tired of it all.  His hands were so red they would never be clean, nor could his innocence ever be regained.  He couldn’t allow this happen to others.  He couldn’t allow this insanity to go on any longer.

With a feeling of great desperation, the Arabian took it upon himself to end it all before more were lost.  He’d get it all over with, and never would he have to come back.

////

 The uni-banged man positioned himself more comfortably against the mattress, curling ever so slightly as his mind analyzed and decided on his next move.

 The affect that war had on his husband may very well have taken a toll.  During the initial war, he’d gone insane because his father died…perhaps something was happening now because of that last battle.

Trowa was never informed on what happened, but thinking about it now led him to believe that what ever had happened, made quite an impression on his love.  Silently, he vowed to discover what was being hidden from him, setting things straight to keep history from repeating itself.

***

 A bright beam of sunlight came through the window to shimmer on a certain Arabian, snuggled against the couch cushions.  To an observer’s first glance, the man would seem to be sleeping, however if one looked closer, it would be easy to point out that the man hadn’t slept a wink through the night.
 
 
 
 

 Quatre turned away from the light, feeling unworthy of its brilliant rays.  This was the last thing he had wanted: for the colony to be blown up.  It seemed that he had been doing things without thinking fully…he simply wanted peace.  He wanted it so desperately, in fact, that he would do nearly anything to keep it.

“Quatre.”

 The Arabian jumped at the unexpected noise: his name spoken so calmly, coolly.  Relaxing, Quatre looked up into Trowa’s eyes, eyes raised in question.

“Duo would like to speak to you,” Trowa stated softly, pointing towards the phone.  He stayed silent as he watched his husband’s expression change from horrified, to guilty, and then, lastly, to solemn.

 “All right,” he responded softly, getting up slowly and rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes.  Pulling his blankets around him, Quatre made his way towards the communicator, preparing himself for the worst.

***

 Anger was clearly seen in Duo’s violet eyes, and in the stature in which he held himself.  Shown in the screen behind him was Wufei, looking none too happy himself.

 What he had done, Quatre knew, was inexcusable.  He had given to the enemy: his tactics were getting mighty sloppy…

 “What the hell were you thinking?”  Duo’s voice boomed over the communicator, skipping pleasantries or explanations of  any kind.  “How could you be so foolish Quatre?  I used to think that you were smart, did you know that?  I used to look up to you.  But now you’re only a murderer!  A pathetic excuse for a pacifist…Do you have any idea what you’ve done you…”

 Wufei quickly walked Duo out of the room to end the ranting.  While it was justified in his mind, he realized that it would get them nowhere.  Calmly he sat back down, looking at Quatre’s picture with disappointment in his eyes.

 “Quatre, I know you’re better than this.  What happened?”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 Drawing a deep breath, the business man decided to start from the beginning.  “During the last fight, I was forced to do something I never thought to do again.  In my sector for the last mission I’d become desperate to end all of it: the killing, the hatred.  I openly attacked every enemy in sight, loosing control again in wing zero.  Since peace has come once more, I take it upon myself to do whatever I can to keep the colonies from having another aftershock.  These people were for what I was for; they wanted peace, and so I supported them.  I wasn’t cautious enough in looking at their profiles: that is where I’m at fault.  I didn’t know anything of it, Wufei, I swear.  I didn’t think they would do something that extreme without at least notifying their supporters…”   Quatre rubbed his brows, “I…I really have nothing else to say.  I made a very bad decision, and it’s not going to go away.”

 Wufei studied his friend, “To forgive you now for helping in such a deed would be injustice.  Ignorance doesn’t excuse you from your part, Quatre.  You should have known better from the beginning.”  His eyes softened a bit after a while of looking at Quatre’s face, “I think, however, that your own guilt is enough punishment.  I understand the fact that you want peace, we all do, however sometimes it is better obtained using one’s head and not their heart.  Watch yourself, Winner.”

 The image faded away to leave a black screen, the drive humming softly just before the blond leaned in the turn it off.  He’d become far too desperate, but it seemed that it couldn’t be helped.  He couldn’t handle the killing anymore, he couldn’t go back.  He couldn’t…

 Quatre’s heart rate raised with fear, and he began breathing harshly at the thought of his phobia.  Soon he blanked out, and the last thing he remembered was Trowa’s soft, pleading voice in his ear.  It told him to come back to him, to quickly let himself relax, but nothing had registered in his mind, and he fell unconscious.

***

 “What happened?” Ira asked in horror, her eyes focused on her brother.  “Trowa,
answer me!”

 Trowa jumped at the voice, calling him back to attention.  He’d been staring at Quatre’s unmoving body for what seemed to be a very long time, forgetting that he had called his sister-in-law only a few minutes ago.  Shaking his head, the brunette stood and turned towards her.

 “He had some sort of panic attack, Ira.  Quatre started shaking after his conversation with Wufei, then feel unconscious.”  Trowa drew a breath, “I’m not quite sure what to make of it, but I know he’s been under a lot of stress.”

 “Stress that you helped in, I’m told,” Ira stated with a slight edge in her voice.  “Be more careful with emotions, Trowa.  He feels more than you do, and is easily hurt.”

 “I know that, Ira, but someone had to wake him up.  Something happened to him a couple of years back.  He hasn’t been the same since.”

 A rustling sound drew attention before Ira could reply.  Bed sheets began to fall from the small form as Quatre started to wake up.  He tossed and turned groggily before adjusting his eyes to the light.  “T…Tr… Trowa,” he whispered softly.

 Trowa went to his love, grasping the small hand gently.  Worry was evident in his emerald eyes.  “Quatre, I’m here.  Are you all right?”

 The blond nodded slowly, and drew his husband towards him; positioning him to sit on the side of their bed.  He held Trowa’s hand tightly against his heart, using his other hand to pull his love down to him.  Searching those green eyes, he found no anger or coolness that had been there before, giving him the courage to press on.

“Trowa, I know that this won’t be enough to satisfy anyone, but I want you to know that I’m sorry for what happened.  I think…that perhaps someone else should take over the business…for a while.”

Trowa cocked his head to the side, studying the figure below him.  “And why do you think that, koi?  What will you do if someone takes over?”

The answer that Trowa was given came in the form of a simple shrug, and a depressed look.  “I can’t trust myself right now.  They can’t afford to trust me.”  Tears began to fall down pale cheeks, “I can’t handle it anymore!” he cried.

Quatre was quickly caught in his lover’s warm embrace as he began to shake.  “Shh, koi.  Hush now.  What can’t you handle?”

“I…they just shouldn’t depend on me, Trowa.  Something’s wrong with me.”

“What?  What is it, Quatre?”

“…Please Trowa, just ask my sisters to take over.  I can’t explain this now.”

Sighing, the European nodded towards Ira, who nodded back in return.  Quatre would be going on a break from his work.  The break was needed, Trowa recognized, he just hoped that he could find out what had been troubling his husband.

With a soft smile, he drew Quatre to him, melding his body against the curled form.  Situating himself, Trowa pulled blankets over them and rested his head against Quatre’s.  Looking into pained aquamarine eyes, he grew more solemn, remembering what he’d forgotten to comment on.
 
 

“I love you, Quatre.  Don’t think that that much has changed.  I’m going to help you.”

Quatre smiled slightly, though he couldn’t be torn from his guilt.  With that slight smile, he cuddled against Trowa’s larger form and kissed his husband’s shoulder.  “I love you too, Trowa.  I know that it’s been tough to deal with me, but I’m going to try to get better now.”  Shaking his head, Quatre’s smile widened a bit.  “I have so much to repay you for, koi.  Thank you.”