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Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing and am making no money off of this fic.
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Shatter by luvsanime02
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Trowa walked into the bedroom and took a good, long look around. Clothes were thrown everywhere, books toppled off their shelves, more shoes than he even knew it was possible to own were hiding in the weirdest places all over the room, and Relena was lying facedown on her bed, clothes under her and over her and just generally all over the bed’s surface.
“You know, I think you might have a problem,” he says mildly, raising an eyebrow.
Relena moans from the pile of clothes. Her head lifts off of the bed just far enough for her to squint at him blearily. “The problem is tequila!” she retorts. “There’s not enough of it.”
There are two empty tequila bottles on her dresser, thankfully not smashed all over the carpet. Trowa doesn’t even want to think about the mess that would have been.
He leans casually against the doorframe, reluctant to walk into the room. He’d probably step on something expensive and break it. “I mean, you’re not wrong about the first part,” he agrees.
A loud snort is his only reply before Relena lays her head back down. Trowa waits a minute, but when Relena doesn’t make any other movements or comments, he sighs. Pushing away from the wall, Trowa leaves and heads for the kitchen. He gets a glass of water and then looks for any pain relief drugs in the bathroom, and then heads back to Relena’s bedroom.
The rest of the house is in good shape, not much out of place, so Trowa has to assume that Relena’s spent the last four days completely holed up in her bed. Why she’s dragged out what looks like the entire contents of her closet and strewn them all about the room, he doesn’t know, and doesn’t think it’s wise to ask right now.
Deciding that there’s no helping it, Trowa carefully starts walking through Relena’s room, one step at a time. It takes him a few minutes, but then he’s at her bed and reasonably sure that he didn’t step on anything important.
So, of course, when Trowa goes to actually sit down on the bed, he hears a crunch under him. He freezes. The room is very quiet for just long enough that Trowa hopes Relena’s actually asleep again, and that’s when she slowly lifts her head up and glares at him with bloodshot eyes.
“That better not have been my glasses,” she demands.
Well, Trowa sure as hell hopes not. Carefully, he stands back up and starts removing the clothes from the bed, tossing them onto the floor, since Relena clearly doesn’t mind if they’re down there. Thankfully, what he sat on turns out to be an empty CD case. He didn’t even break off any glass pieces, just cracked the cover.
Removing that from the bed, Trowa sits back down. Relena, apparently deciding that the CD case isn’t worth caring about, goes back to ignoring him. Right. That won’t do. Trowa grabs the blanket over her and pulls it down, and then grips her shoulder and starts gently tugging her forwards.
Relena grumbles, but she goes along with the movement until she’s sitting mostly upright, her hair a mess and tear tracks staining her face. She looks worse than he’s ever seen her, and Trowa doesn’t know what to do about it.
“I could kick his ass if you want?” he offers quietly.
Relena laughs. Just a little, but it eases something in Trowa’s chest. She’ll be okay. Not now, maybe not for a while, but eventually, she’ll be fine.
“His law degree isn’t just for show, you know?” she says tiredly. “You’d get into so much trouble.”
“Worth it,” Trowa replies immediately. He means it.
Relena reaches for the water and the ibuprofen, and swallows the pills down before draining half the glass. “Thanks,” she says, obviously referring to more than just the hangover supplies.
Trowa nods. “Anytime,” he says, and it feels like a promise.