by Windsor Blue
Notes - This takes place after the scene in "Endless Waltz" where Trowa leaves the circus, and Catherine realizes he's gone when she finds his mask on the floor. Cathy may seem a little OOC to some, but she's angry, scared, and bitter about his going. So...yeah.
He left. In the middle of a performance, he left.
no one's picking up the phone
guess it's me and me
No respect for the rest of us - no concern for the show, or the troupe, or the audience, or me, for that matter - just off at the first opportunity for another adventure! God, but he makes me angry! I could just wring his neck, sometimes, I swear...
and this little masochist
she's ready to confess
No, I couldn't. No, I never could. I shouldn't think things like that.
all the things that I never thought
that she could feel and
God only knows where he went, or what he's doing. He could be in trouble. He could be dead in a ditch somewhere, with no one to help him...
Dead in a ditch somewhere, just like...oh, God...
The tears are coming, and I can't make them stop.
hey Jupiter
nothing's been the same
so are you gay
are you blue
thought we both could use a friend
to run to
I put my face in my hands and try to get hold of myself. I can't cry now - there's an audience gathering out there, and soon they'll be waiting for me, and I can't let them down, I just can't. They need me. Even if there aren't many of them, they still need me.
They still need me, even if he doesn't.
and I thought I wouldn't have to be
with you
something new
I can tell myself that he'll be back soon, and that everything will be fine, but it won't be the same, no matter how much I'd like for it to be so. He's not a child, no matter how much I like to pretend he is. By the time he comes back, he never will be again. I'm not a complete fool - there are only so many times a boy can run off to save the world before you can't call him a boy any longer.
And when that happens, when he comes back again, the little brother I miss so much will be well and truly gone. Forever.
sometimes I breathe you in
and I know you know
Sometimes when he smiles just so, I see the way my mother used to smile. Sometimes when he laughs, I can hear the echo of my father in his voice. But then I think I must be imagining it. The odds are better that I'm just imagining it. No matter how hard I wish for it, it couldn't possibly be so.
The likelihood is, my baby brother is long dead, and this boy - this man - that I've taken in is just another orphan. The ease with which we get along is nothing more than a subconscious recognition of someone in circumstances similar to our own.
There's no such thing as fate. There's no such thing as a happy ending.
and sometimes you take a swim
found your writing on my wall
We could find out for sure, but we haven't. We don't, and we probably won't. Who needs to buy heartbreak, when there's so much available for free?
if my heart's soaking wet
Boy your boots can leave a mess
I close my eyes and I can smell it - the fear, the smoke, the sweat coming off the horses as they ran. I can hear the panic in my mother's voice as she told me everything would be all right. I can hear my father whispering to Triton, don't cry, baby boy, don't cry. I can feel my body flying through the air in that last, awful moment - away from everything I knew as mine.
I can hear our horses screaming. I can see my parents burning. I can hear myself calling for the brother that vanished. Gone, in that one moment. Gone forever, when Trowa left again.
Vanishing seems to be something he's good at.
hey Jupiter
nothings been the same
so are you gay
are you blue
thought we both could use a friend
to run to
He doesn't need a mother substitute anymore. He doesn't need a doting big sister figure. He's proven time and time again that he can take care of himself - he certainly doesn't need me to do it for him. And as for family - well, his real family is the one he drops everything for.
The one he drops me for.
and I thought you wouldn't have to keep
with me
hiding
I look into the mirror and hate myself. I have a show to do, and I'm a wreck. I know better than this - I'm supposed to be a professional, and just look at me. Just look.
thought I knew myself so well
all the dolls I had
I go to the sink and wash my face, then sit down in front of the mirror and pull the make-up kit to me. This is where my mask is - not some tangible, breakable chunk of ceramic that can be tossed aside when the spirit moves me. This is the mask that even my brave Trowa won't don. This is the mask that has to stick, because I have a show to do. Soon, the ringmaster will call me to come throw my knives at some clown who's just standing in for my brother.
I guess it's not really so different from any other day, after all.
took my leather off the shelf
your apocalypse was fab
The beautiful and deadly Catherine Bloom. That's me. Or it will be, as soon as I'm done putting on my mask.
for a girl who couldn't choose between
the shower or the bath
Concealer, applied in dabs, to hide the circles under my eyes and the worry pimple already sprouting on my chin.
Foundation - use the fingertips first, then smooth with the sponge. Make sure to get it down the chin and neck, too - don't make a halo of color around the edge of your face.
Powder, to hold it all in place. No shine, no flaws, no imperfections. No tragic pasts, no lonely nights cursing the pillow in my arms, the stand-in for the merciless God that let me live.
Eyeliner, brushed on in an unwavering line. Mascara, thick and tinted with glitter. A hint of eye shadow, and a little lipstick. No problem is so great, I've been told, that it can't be solved with a little lipstick properly applied.
Some days, I actually believe that. Today will just have to be one of those days.
and I thought I wouldn't have to be
with you
a magazine
I look at my reflection and there she almost is - the beautiful and deadly Catherine Bloom. I take a little Vaseline and rub it on my teeth. It's an old beauty pageant trick that the dancers taught me - it keeps you smiling, even when you don't feel like smiling.
Now it's done.
no one's picking up the phone
guess it's clear he's gone
I fix my hair, then go stand in the wings and wait. It's almost my turn. I close my eyes for a second, take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Stomach in, chest out, back straight, shoulders back, chin up, eyes open. Smile.
I don't need you, either, Trowa. I don't. I can do this act with any old clown. Any old clown will do.
and this little masochist
is lifting up her dress
I hear my name, and I hit the center ring with a broad smile and a cheery wave. With a flick of my wrist, there are three knives in my hand, ready to be thrown. Beautiful and deadly, that's me.
guess I thought I could never feel
the things I feel
If only you needed me, Trowa. If only you could be the little boy I remember. If only you could be the part of me that's lost. But you don't, and you're not, and all I have is the bits of you that you leave behind when you go to your brothers. Your real brothers - the ones you found without me.
hey Jupiter
nothings been the same
so are you gay
are you blue
thought we both could use a friend
to run to
If only you could need me as much as you need them.
hey Jupiter
nothings been the same
so are you safe
now we're through
thought we both could use a friend
to run to
I turn to the knife board and smile at the clown they've given me for today. The show must go on, and so on it goes. Any old clown will do.
Goodbye, baby brother. Goodbye to you, too, Trowa.
hey Jupiter