No One Else by Captain Anonymous Trowa’s eyes scanned the dark room. The red light from the digital clock read 4:11. Trowa laid his head back on the soft pillow, pulling the blankets back over himself. He felt a warm touch against his skin. Trowa turned on his side, looking at Midii. In the low light of the morning, he could see her eyes, almost as if they broke the surrounding darkness. He knew what she had been going through the past few days, and what seemed like a life time before that. The stress, the pain, uncertainty. Trowa knew how it felt, what it was like to see someone who seemed so close, that could cause so much pain. It was never easy. Sometimes, no matter how important they were, how much you didn’t want to see them go down a dark path, there was no way to stop them. No way to change there minds. The sound of three shots being fired, all almost at the exact same time echoed in his mind. The cold chill in the air. The blood seeping into the pavement. The memories were still so clear in his mind, but yet still like a dream, where it didn’t seem real. Trowa wasn’t going to let her be alone. Not now, not ever again. Trowa moved his arm around her body, gently pulling her closer to him. She moved into his arms, resting her body against his, holding each other in a tender embrace. Trowa moved his legs against hers, feeling the blood rush as he touched her warm smooth skin. His hands worked into her soft blonde hair. Trowa moved the blankets around their bodies, to ward off the chilly morning air, and the dark memories that it brought back. Midii made a soft cue, as there bodies melted together. She moved her head to his shoulder and whispered into his ear, “This is nice.” Trowa held her in his arms, as he moved his hands down her back. The way Trowa held her in his arms, the way he touched her body, it just seemed to chance to chase the demons away from her, even if it was just for a little while. She took a deep breathe. Midii laid her head down against Trowa’s chest, closing her eyes. ------------ It was late afternoon when the light coming in through the windows faded. The storm front grew ever closer. Sylvia closed her bedroom window, just as the first droplets of rain began falling. There was the sound of rain against the roof, slowly getting stronger as the drizzle of rain that had begun, broke into a full down pour. Sylvia walked to the bed, where her young husband sat. She sat down beside him. She slipped her shoes off and placed them at the foot of the bed, next to where Joel had placed his. “It looks like the garden party has been canceled.” Mitchell smiled, “I think your right. I’m glad we weren’t out in this weather.” He laid on the bed, closing his eyes, listening to the sound of the rain. Sylvia moved onto the bed, propping herself next to him. “It’s all right, I think that I’d rather stay in anyway.” There was a flash of lightning outside, the bright light flooded through the windows. A moment later, there was a crash of thunder, close to the house, almost like an explosion. The room fell silent for what seemed like and eternity. Mitchell sat up on the bed, and looked outside, just as a second blinding flash filled the room for an instant, followed by the loud roar. He looked back at Sylvia as she moved her body in front of him. She sat on her knees between his legs, looking into his eyes. Mitchell moved his hand up and touched her face. “Sylvia.” Sylvia laid her head down on his shoulder as they laid back on the bed. She could feel her lips against her husband’s white shirt collar, down to the warm skin of his neck. She closed her eyes, the room of the old house was silent, aside from the sound of the rain, and there hearts beating. She listened to the soft sound, the memories of her childhood here. She remembered the endless summer nights she would spend in this room, listening to the rain at night, the way it sounded. There was something familiar about it, something that brought her back to that time. The time when she was young, the time of when her grandfather was alive. Her mind wandered, going back to Marseilles, and the memories she had there. She remembered the very first time she had met Mitchell. Before he was an aide to her grandfather, recently pulled off the duty roster. Mitchell was only a Lieutenant when he first joined her grandfather’s staff in Marseilles. Sylvia remember when she first met him. The summer before the start of the great war. It had been a warm summer afternoon. Her grandfather had been caught up with an important matter, and would be busy for the entire day. She remembered that Mitchell was to be her escort for the rest of the afternoon. Sylvia remembered how he looked, in his Alliance uniform, how handsome he was. They spent the afternoon together. He was nervous around her, she remembered the way he trembled. She never found out much about him, or really even where he was originally from, or his first name. There was something about him, he always seemed to be so caring towards her. Mitchell stayed on her grandfather’s staff, eventually rising to the rank of Captain. Over the time they spent together, he always cared about her, and would often stay in Marseilles when her grandfather would leave on business. Even the last time her grandfather left Marseilles, to go to New Edwards. Mitchell was with her the entire time, as that news came, that her grandfather had been killed. With that blow, the last hopes for the Alliance shattered like glass, and nearly every senior officer fled the city, knowing that OZ would eventually attack. Mitchell could have easily l but he didn’t. He was with her the entire time, during her grandfather’s funeral, as the shadow of OZ seemed to loom ever closer. Mitchell was eventually made the commander of the few remaining forces that were at the Alliance base inside the city. There was another clap of thunder outside. She remembered those dark days, as the OZ would launch two attacks against the city. The first was wiped out completely, at the cost of all of the Alliance Leo mobile suits. It was during that confusion, when she met him. That boy. Who said that his name was Heero Yuy. The one who had taken her grandfather’s life. She never told Joel about what had happened. She never thought that she could. That boy, had taken so much from them. The world that knew would fall apart, all set in motion by his hand. She remembered her own anger, she came so close to pulling the trigger, firing a shot, and taking his life. She couldn’t fire. She didn’t want him to take the easy way out, leaving his blood on her hands. Killing him never would have brought her grandfather back. Sylvia never saw Heero again. It wasn’t long after, when the few remain defenders were overwhelmed, and an OZ task force occupied the city. Mitchell was one of the chosen few who were taken prisoner. She was glad that he was with her now. Sylvia moved her head, as Joel held her in his arms, brushing her lips against his neck. He whispered her name softly, “Sylvia.” To be continued.