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Middie stared at the food and was thankful for Trowa's sister being a guide. It was good to see she was clearly wrong about her. Middie hadn't revealed what had happened in detail. She thought Catherine was angry at her beyond measure. However, she realized she got it backwards. She knows something.
"That's pretty good, and so is that," Catherine said, making pleasant conversation. "Everything is colorful and on display because that's how we live. If you stay, everything about you is eventually on display."
Catherine's subtle way of warning her that any secrets kept would be exposed. Middie just wanted some food, but it was starting some kind of argument, and Trowa was not the kind of person to deal with arguments. He didn't speak up. Ever. "How much display tonight?" Middie asked her.
"The ladies and the ringmaster. The guys will trust it after that."
Okay. "Then food?" Trowa wasn't exactly planning many stops with her. He just wanted to get back to his home.
"Then food," Catherine said as she left to go over by Trowa.
Ladies and a ringmaster. Been through worse to get a morsel. Everyone vacated the tent for now except the ladies. Catherine said they were all going to have some girl-talk. Except the ringmaster stayed too. He was the special girl-talk guest.
Middie almost had a plate of food. It was lying way over there by the buffet. Sing for your supper. She remembered Gin's words for her when she said that. Maybe it wasn't her name that made him call her One Song. Maybe he heard her say that out loud one day. Everyone there now stared.
"Most questions that can be answered, should," Catherine warned her. "It won't be repeated outside the troupe." She hesitated a minute. "If Trowa wants you here, you should understand, it's not a quick stop."
"Name?" Someone asked her.
"Middie Une." She'd answer what she could.
"How do you know Trowa?"
"The past, in the war." Hopefully that would work for now.
"Why are you eating on our food?"
"She is about to become one of us," Catherine answered for her.
Circus folk. Middie didn't have the abilities to be in a circus. She barely managed in her low-income jobs as it had been.
"What happened to your hand?" A younger, more innocent looking girl in the crowd had asked.
"My finger got hurt," Middie said simply.
"Why'd it get hurt?"
Just get it over with. Get it all over with because they won't let this up. It'd all come out, so let it all come out. If they wanted her gone afterward, Trowa would have to figure it out if he wanted her to stay. Otherwise she would find a different way.
That is what she did. She was a survivor. "My name is Middie Une, I am nineteen going on twenty," she said. "I lived on Earth all my life. I was involved in being a spy in the war. As a cute blonde kid, it worked. I know Trowa that same way, I was a spy against him." She heard a couple of gasps but she didn't care. She wasn't going to hang around a place to walk on eggshells. It was nice to see Trowa try and give her time to adapt before she explained, but Middie was never used to nice without a price anyway. While she spoke, Catherine stayed beside her. If she started to misspeak, she could stop her too. So far, she was letting her continue.
"Revenge of the Lost helped me at first, until they found out I was a spy and came after me instead. I ran away and found a new beginning. I went into a regular labor force. I've been in it for years." No need to mention her brothers or her father. She wasn't going for the sympathy vote, just the facts vote, to find where she stood. "Not long ago, I had to have a surgery for Tonsillitis. I borrowed money to get it done from a man named Gin. Afterward, Trowa came to my door and told me Revenge of the Lost was after him too." Hushed room. "He thinks I'm carrying his child so now he feels like he should be responsible for my welfare. Before he explained that to me though, I was taken away, being blamed for ratting someone out. These wounds are mostly a result of negotiation between me and a powerful mother of the crime syndicate down here."
She looked toward Catherine. She wasn't pulling in the details of Catalonia. "I was lied to, went to the colonies, but Trowa took me back. Now I'm here." Was that enough to get something to eat?
"It doesn't matter what happened in the past," Catherine struggled to say. "Although it will follow around her, I'm sure of that, but she is carrying Trowa's child. If we don't take her, then we might lose him."
"I want to know more about the spy position and the war," the ringmaster announced. "I want to speak with Trowa too, Catherine!"
"Yes, Sir," Catherine nodded gently.
"She may eat something for now." He stood up and placed his hat on. "With my permission. First thing in the morning, Trowa had better be at my tent!"
"Yes sir," Catherine nodded dutifully again as he left.
Expecting that to be enough for her meal, Middie tried to go back toward the plate she was making, but it wasn't enough yet. Catherine stopped her. I knew this was coming.
"You were a spy and you got people killed!" Catherine laid into her. "You didn't pull the trigger, but you gave away positions and that was as bad as killing them. But? We all have to learn how to forgive after the war. It's a time of peace." She gritted her teeth. "This is asking a whole lot though. You hurt my brother, and he is bringing you into our family, to protect his child. Therefore, you are getting a second chance to make things right. Don't screw it up, please." She rubbed at her eyes. She was a sensitive one.
"Now the injuries?" Catherine demanded. "You said they were before and after. I don't need extreme details but . . . I want to know."
Yeah. Middie knew she'd ask soon. "The mother of the son who they claimed I ratted out, roughed me up to figure out the truth before RTL called her," Middie admitted. "All of the injuries you see except my hand came from her."
"Did you go to the hospital?" One of the others asked.
"No. Just, regular stuff."
"Your finger." Catherine paused back on it again. "Did she do that too?"
"Her ex-husband that escaped jail, also courtesy of RTL. That one, I did kill," she confessed outright. How could she put it succinctly? Catherine was smart enough. "Since the father of the baby was dead to him, he wanted to use it to regain his track again."
There. Was that enough? Everyone still stared at her. "Well, what do you want already?" Middie was getting mad. "I didn't ask to be brought here. I was living just fine away from here until I got dragged here. I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here. I'm pregnant, I'm starving, I've been forced to do crap I haven't done since the war to survive, and I had to retain my dignity by doing crap I never wanted to either! So just leave me alone, let me eat, and I'll get out!" She limped to the food.
Damn limp! You can't look cute and innocent with a limp. You don't look like a good girl with a limp. She moved toward her plate. Fighting for a simple meal again. All over again. Survival. Survival was never an easy thing. It wasn't a matter of pride. It was about getting down into the muddiest, dampest mildew ridden and rotten infested spots and not giving in. I'm not a good girl anymore anyway. Not since before.
Then, she saw her plate being taken away. I earned that, at least let me eat. She realized though, that they were plating it for her.
"She missed that, and she should get that."
"Do you have any allergies?"
"You should try that; it's got a lot of protein in it."
Oh. Middie looked over at Catherine.
"Like I said. It's a time of peace. Second chances," Catherine said to her. "Just be good." Her eyes sharpened, with a slight tear. "Because Trowa would never ask you for anything else."
"I will." Middie agreed as she saw a much better-looking plate coming into existence. While she took it graciously and started to eat, she felt Catherine's hand on her lightly before it fell away.
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Trowa sat on his bed, talking to Duo on the phone. He promised he would call when he got her back. "It was positive. Catherine should be able to get her food. I'll find a way to get her in."
"Trowa," Duo said. No whimsy. No cheeriness. "I only saw her for a bit, but she's been through some hell. You talk to her about it?"
"No," Trowa admitted. "Not yet."
"Well, enjoy a night or two getting to know her then," Duo warned him, "but you better find out the facts. I know the way she was eyeing the guy she killed that she was all set to do it. She's a pistol ready to go off if too much builds up. She's that kind of person. Be careful."
"I know," Trowa said again. "I'm sorry your family wasn't what you wanted."
"Hey. People you can trust are a lot more important than some relation," Duo said. "I better get to bed. I need to go sleep with Hilde now. I mean! Yeah, you know what I mean. She might be safe now, but one wrong move and RTL will bag her. I gotta be just as careful until we get them. You got your bed squared away to watch out?"
"I have been ready." The day he ever found her. If he found her again. Trowa had been ready.
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Trowa took Middie to his personal tent area before bedtime. She was looking at it all around.
"It's like a bunker on the side." She glanced to him. "Are you holding me prisoner at night?"
"It's designed for safety," Trowa said. "Revenge of the Lost is known to stab its victims at night with anything, especially by the feet. It's better to be safe." He noticed her look. "What is it?"
"Careful what you wish for."
That was an odd statement. Trowa didn't understand it, Middie never wished to be pregnant that he knew of, or to be with the Circus. "Climb in."
"Are all of the other pilots using this model?" she asked. It was almost a tease. Almost. She climbed into her side.
Trowa didn't know what the other pilots used, he just knew while they had taken care of their responsibilities, Middie was . . . not being taken care of. Just lugged around through shuttles. All he could do was plan for if she came back.
He had sacrificed room in his tent for a larger bed. Half of it had been boxed, and melded together with the railings. It looked like a giant metal box with a bed tucked inside. One side was left unwelded and unopened so she could get adequate air and get out.
Otherwise, he would be next to her. His area was not contained, but he was a light sleeper. If anyone came in the room, he would take care of them long before they could figure out how to reach her.
Even though it was a box, it was still a bed first. A pillow, a blanket, and a comfortable mattress.
Having been taken from her home, kidnapped for some time, and now there, she was missing many items. Everything she owned except the clothes on her back. He would have to find a way to get her items without putting her in trouble later or rebuying her some down the line. The second option would probably be best. For now, sleeping in her clothes was probably easier anyhow. He would do the same.
He moved into the bed. She was tucked back into the metal container, already sound asleep. She sleeps well inside of it. "Goodnight, Middie Une." He closed his eyes.
Finally.
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