Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Eyes Cold As Stone ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

Eyes Cold As Stone

Chapter 3

"Tyr, sir."

"Yes Ares?"

"Jezebel has contacted us."

"What did she have to say?"

"The Preventers are on to us."

"I figured as much after they discovered Space Barge."

`She wasn't able to react in time. She had reported that the Preventers wanted to dismantle the old station."

"I know the particulars, Commander. What did she just report?"

"I have the recording, sir, if you'd like to watch it." Captain Tyr gestured to the viewing screen, expectantly. Commander Ares slipped the in the disc and stood back, allowing Tyr to see the screen. A slender woman with jet-black hair and piercing green eyes materialized and began speaking in soft and deadly measured tones.

"Tyr, the Preventers are on to us. They don't know shit yet, however, they know enough to declare war. I just received the particulars on the meeting they held a couple days ago. Apparently, they are rebuilding the Gundams. I didn't receive any information on how long it will take, but it is my guess that it will at least take two months to build all five. Make sure, Tyr, that we have annihilated them BEFORE the Gundams are completed. I will keep you updated on any information I receive.

"I have also intercepted a mission order. Pilots 03 and 04 have been sent on a mission. New Edwards base-no MS, no confrontation. Their mission is simply to gather information on our organization. I have no intention of letting them have it. Make sure they are taken care of." Jezebel's eyes narrowed at this point. "I don't want to have to dispose of you because of two measly pilots. I don't care if they've so called saved the world twice or not." Through gritted teeth, looking fiercely enough to frighten Death to death: "Take them out of the equation. 04-the blonde one-is the best place to start. He is the brains of their entire organization. Without him, neither the Preventers nor the Gundam pilots will last long. Take him out.

"I believe that the other three pilots will be sent out on various missions before the week is up, so alert all bases…and I mean ALL bases. We have effectively gone on full alert. I want NO mistakes. Mistakes are weaknesses, and I don't tolerate any weaknesses.

"If you have any questions, you know how to contact me. Emergencies ONLY. I cannot have my cover blown at Preventer HQ. Remember, Tyr, that I am in Intelligence. They check everything with a fine toothed comb, a hundred fold. Don't make any of the stupid-assed decisions that I know you're dying to make. Remember, if you make them, you will be dying.

"I will send you another update ASAP. I don't know how long it will be considering the atmosphere around here. You'll just have to get by. Godspeed, Tyr. I hope, if only for your own sake, that you do not mess up. Jezebel, out." The screen went black and Tyr felt cold. Death threats from Jezebel weren't to be taken lightly. He looked over at his Commanding officer.

"Get into contact with the New Edwards base, now. Tell them that pilots 03 and 04 are on their way. Set up a trap. I want those pilots captured. Then send out a general message to our other bases alerting them to the possibility of attack or infiltration."

"Yes, sir." Tyr focused on the unmoving form of Ares, and raised a questioning eyebrow. "What would you like done with the pilots after we've captured them, sir?"

Tyr smiled a wicked grin. "Interrogate them. Kill them."

______________________________

Sunlight filtered in through ancient cloth adorning the window. Trowa blinked the harsh brightness from his sleep dressed eyes. He started to stretch stiff muscles when he noticed something preventing him from moving easily. There was a comforting weight on him. Trowa slowly opened his eyes completely, gazing down at a slumbering Quatre, whose arm was currently resting across his chest while his leg was thrown over his hips. Trowa smiled. He gently rubbed Quatre's side while running his other hand through the pale hair fanned out on his chest. This is the life. Quatre made some purring sounds and snuggled in closer to Trowa. He wasted no time in tightening his embrace, pulling Quatre even closer. Trowa breathed in a deep breath, smelling Quatre's freshly washed hair. I don't want to wake up from this dream. But he knew that this was reality-at least the fact that he was holding a snuggling, but asleep, Quatre to him. The dream was Quatre waking up to kiss him goodmorning and say I love you. Trowa slowly disentangled himself from his angel, not wanting Quatre to wake up in his arms. He feared Quatre's reaction. Part of him wanted to stay that way, wrapped around his love, if only to pretend that he was asleep when Quatre woke up. Part of him dreaded how Quatre would react to waking in his arms. He gently got out of the bed and looked down at his sleeping angel. Quatre had been smiling in his sleep, but now…now Quatre looked almost sad. Maybe he should wake Quatre up. Quatre moaned and rolled over hastily, almost like he was frustrated. Trowa watched Quatre's hand move over the mattress, like he was looking for someone. Could he be looking for me? Trowa shook his head. Damnit, Trowa. Stop getting your hopes up, you know he can't love you, even if he was gay. Trowa sighed and shuffled into the bathroom. He studied his reflection in the mirror, leaning on the counter. He was attractive, was he not? He didn't really know how others saw him; he hadn't ever cared about his appearance…until now, that is. Was it possible that Quatre is gay? Could Quatre ever love him? Trowa shook his head at his own questions. Quatre could never love something as tainted as he was. Quatre was too pure, even with all of the blood staining his hands. Trowa exhaled slowly. Let's just make it through this mission, and then I'll tell Quatre. Maybe Heero could help me…well, okay, maybe not Heero. I could always talk to Duo, if I act right after talking to him, after all, Duo is the world's biggest gossip. Trowa turned and stepped into the shower.

Toweling himself off, Trowa moved into the room, quickly glancing at the bed to see if Quatre was still there. Letting the towel drop, he grabbed his clothes from the top of the dresser. He caught Quatre's blush in the mirror as he pulled on his jeans. Zipping them up, he slowly turned to face the red Arabian.

"Is something wrong, Quatre?" Quatre answered with an exaggerated shake of the head. "Why are you so red? Do you have a fever?" Trowa moved over to Quatre, concerned. He reached out to feel Quatre's forehead, dripping some water on Quatre's pants. Obviously he hadn't done a good job toweling off.

"I…I'm fine, T-Trowa. But thanks." Quatre's eyes were downcast a little. Trowa pulled his hand away, confused. Why would Quatre be so hot if he wasn't sick?

"I can do this mission alone if your not feeling well." Trowa continued to kneel in front of Quatre. "Your health is more important." Quatre stood up.

"I said I was fine. The mission goes on as planned." Quatre grabbed his gun from off of the nightstand and began checking it, not saying anything else. Trowa stayed where he was, gazing longingly at Quatre's back. Oh, Little One, how I wish I could love you outside of my head. But, I wasn't made to love; I was made to fight. You showed me that I could do both. So why is it so hard for me to love you? Why do I put myself through this torture? Why, why, why, why, why? I love you so much it hurts. Do you know that I'm dying inside, right now? I am, Little One, I am. Why? Because something is eating you alive, and I don't know how to find out what it is. I'm too fucking chicken to find out. Just promise me this, Little One; don't hate me when I finally tell you. Please don't hate me.

______________________________

Duo tapped his fingers on his desk. He checked the time on the clock sitting on Heero's desk, before resuming his tapping. Fuck. Quatre and Trowa had left the day before, and Heero was in a meeting with Une. How much more bored could he get before going insane? At least he had seen Quatre off properly. After all, if you're going on a mission, Kamikazis are a definite must. Duo laughed at his own joke. Kamikazi. Mission. Kamikazi. Ha! Okay, so it was a lame joke. I never told anyone I was the God of Great Jokes. Fuck. He glanced at Heero's clock again. Only two fuckin' minutes had passed? Fuck! This day is never gonna end.

"Get your bags packed. We've got a mission." Duo perked up at Heero's mention of a mission. "Keep your yap shut, Duo. This mission is NOT to be discussed. Period. We leave in one hour, and I'll give you the details on the way."

"What? Why can't I know?" Duo feigned suffering.

"Because you can't shut the hell up."

"I'm hurt."

"No you're not."

"I can to keep my mouth closed." Duo clamped his mouth shut. "Hmee." Heero gave him a weird, uncomprehending look as he tried to speak out of closed lips. "Hmi ham heephi hmph mhu."

"Duo. What the fuck did you just say?"

"I can keep my mouth shut." Duo's face fell. "Oh." Duo waited a moment for Heero to be smug; of course it never came, at least visually. "So, why is our mission hush, hush?"

"I'll tell you when we're on our way."

"Damnit! I wanna know. You can't keep me out of the dark like you always do."

"I'll tell you, I promise. I just can't tell you sensitive information here. That's all." Heero whispered, scanning the hallways for recording equipment and prying ears.

`Oh."

"You're not very talkative today. You usually give me an argument."

"I already did. Anyway, I miss Quatre."

"Already? He's only been gone a day. He should be back tomorrow evening."

"I know, but I have a bad feeling."

"You, too?" At Duo's quizzical look, Heero elaborated. "Trowa and I spent the evening before they left at the bar talking. He told me that he had a bad feeling about the mission, and that Quatre shared it."

"Quatre and I discussed the same thing over drinks of our own. As well as some other things."

"Like how much Quatre likes Trowa?" Duo gave him a sharp look.

"Yeah. But Quatre isn't the only one." Heero nodded his head.

"Trowa and I discussed his affection for Quatre."

"Ha! I knew it!" Duo jumped up, doing a little congratulatory impromptu dance in the lobby. "They're made for each other, aren't they?" It was definitely more of a statement than a question.

"They'll tell each other when the time is right."

"Pretty much when they have to, huh." Heero nodded. Whew, I thought that he might actually exceed his daily limit of words. "They'll wait until it's too late, won't they?" Like another couple I know.

"Probably."

"It's sad that it has to go that far. Why can't they just tell each other how they feel, now? Why does it have to be so hard for them?" Shit, I'm being a hypocrite.

"Sometimes, it's hard to tell someone you love them. Especially if they're already your friend." Is it just me, or does Heero look sad? "It's even harder for soldiers to fall in love because they're afraid that the only reason they love the person, is because they may not live to see another day." Are you speaking from personal experience, Heero?

"Yeah, but we're in a time of peace."

"Doesn't matter. You meet the person in times of war. Look at Trowa. He's known nothing except for being a soldier until he met Quatre. Trowa is scared that he has nothing to offer Quatre. He's also scared that the only reason that he loves Quatre is because Quatre gave him his humanity back."

"Heero, Quatre has more of a reason to feel that way than Trowa does. Trowa was the one to return Quatre's sanity. But Quatre doesn't feel that way."

"Then why hasn't Quatre told Trowa how he feels?" Damn, Heero is too good at this for his own good. He eyed Heero critically.

"He's scared that Trowa will hate him. He's afraid that Trowa will be disgusted."

"Hn."

"Great, and I thought that we might get to continue a real conversation."

"Hn." Of course.

"Sheesh."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"I'll kill you." Now that's original.

"I dare ya."

"…" At least he hasn't pulled his gun out…yet.

"Say, Heero?"

"Hn?"

"Now that were back in the war, do you think that they'll tell each other before anything too drastic happens?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just have this feeling that one of them is going to die before they can find happiness together."

"I seriously hope that you're wrong."

"Me, too, Heero, me, too."

______________________________

They hadn't spoken since he had lost his composure at seeing Trowa toweling himself off. My, God. He had the most amazing body. Ever. It had taken all of Quatre's self control not to jump him at that time. Hell, this had been a really long day. Especially since he couldn't get the picture of a naked Trowa out of his head. Damn, Trowa had a nice ass. Stop it, Quatre. You are on a mission. A mission that requires your head to be on straight, and NO distractions. He groaned out loud.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Damn. Trowa was too concerned. He had seen all of the concerned looks that Trowa had thrown his way all day. Damn his hormones.

"Yeah," Quatre sighed, "I'm fine. That bad feeling is getting stronger." Actually that part was true. Quatre had been feeling more and more jumpy as the day wore on. And now that he was staring at the base, it was even worse than before. If his bad feeling meter increased like it had been, by the time they entered the base, he would probably not be able to walk.

"It's almost time." Trowa's quiet voice drifted from the bushes beside him.

"Yeah." It was almost time for them to put their necks on the line. It was almost time for them to potentially die. It was almost too late. "Trowa?" His heart began racing. This was the moment. Here he was, crouching in some bushes about ready to bear his heart to the man he loved. He could feel Trowa's eyes on him as the gentle reply wafted to his ear. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. This is really hard. He unconsciencely wiped his sweaty palms on his black pants. He could hear the bushes rustling.

"What is it?" Why did Trowa's voice have this effect? He could swear that everyone within a five miles radius could hear his heart slamming against his ribcage.

"Um…" Shit! He was chickening out. Goddamnit, Quatre! Tell him! "Ah…" He could hear Duo telling him: If you don't tell him, than I will. He has to know somehow. "Be careful, Trowa." Oh, hell. And I'm supposed to be a Gundam pilot? I can't even say three simple words. Fuck! They're just words. Wait a minute. Did Trowa look disappointed? Why would he be disappointed?

"Its time." Trowa's soft voice choked on the words. Quatre nodded numbly before following the dark figure to the base. I love you, Trowa. I'm sorry that I'm too much of a coward to tell you. Quatre absently wiped a tear off of his cheek. Get a hold of yourself. Its not the end of the world-there's always tomorrow. But his mind wouldn't let him have any peace. This is war, Quatre. There is no tomorrow. Shit. There is no tomorrow.

Sneaking into the base was easy enough, almost too easy. He gave Trowa an apprehensive look, which Trowa returned immediately.

"Something's not right." He read Trowa's lips, and nodded his agreement. "Continue?" Trowa was still mouthing the words. He gave the hand signal to continue.

"We need the information. We can't give up on a hunch." He mouthed back, spirits sinking when Trowa gave his acknowledgement. Damn, I had hoped that he would've argued with me, and we could go home. Trowa must have sensed his sorrow, for he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. They turned into the next corridor, which was uncomfortingly empty. They shared another look before drawing their weapons and forging ahead.

The rest of the trek into the heart of the base was disconcertingly uneventful. Dear, God. What were they in for? What horrors were waiting for them at the next turn? Thankfully Trowa was beside him, offering him silent comfort. They finally reached the room they needed to be in. He quickly moved to the other side of the door to provide cover fire for Trowa if needed. His heart was racing again, only this time it wasn't from fear of rejection; it was from fear for his and Trowa's lives. Trowa keyed in the access codes that Quatre had retrieved from his computer hack the day before. He smiled briefly at the memory of rolling on the floor in a tickling contest. Stifling a low chuckle, he nodded to Trowa that he was ready.

Nothing could have prepared them for what they found.

Bursting through the door, he followed Trowa into the deathly crowded computer room. Trowa was frozen in his tracks, halfway between unloading the several rounds in his gun, or dropping the gun and raising his hands in defeat. He gasped at the sheer numbers of soldiers that were ready and waiting for them. His mind raced, trying to determine where they made their mistake. Where did they trip the alarm? Did they trip the alarms? He reached forward and grabbed hold of Trowa's black turtleneck.

"Out!" He pulled back with all of his strength as it came to him. They had been set up. Somehow, there was a leak in the Preventers, and these troops knew that he and Trowa were coming. Shit. The implications of this were not good. He threw himself out into the corridor as the computer room lit up with enemy fire. He dragged Trowa back down the way they had come, occasionally firing his own weapon, discouraging any soldiers from following them into the corridor. As they turned the corner, he dislodged his phone from his belt and keyed in the preprogrammed number for Lady Une. Fuck. They weren't going to make it.

"They're following us. We have to get out of here." Trowa shouted over the din. He turned, motioning for Trowa to follow him.

"Une! 04. We were found out. Must be a leak. All precautions were taken. Repeat. There is a leak." He shouted into the phone, hoping that Une hadn't sent anyone else out on a mission, yet. "There's a lea…" He fell, sudden pain lancing up his leg. Shit. He shoved the phone back into his belt as Trowa helped him to his feet. He drew out a grenade from his cargo pocket. Gripped the pin between his teeth, he armed the explosive and tossed it behind him. One, two, three. He threw himself at Trowa, dragging the taller man to the floor as the grenade took out a large portion of the hall they had just traversed. Picking themselves up before the dust had even settled, they whipped around another corner, and into a contingent of soldiers.

"Oh, shit." Trowa's softly spoken words jerked him to a stop. He briefly thought of surrendering, but quickly banished that. Better to go down fighting than to be held captive. Glancing at Trowa, he could see that Trowa was thinking the same thing.

"I'm not going down without a fight."

"Neither am I." Trowa pulled out a second gun and opened fire as Quatre threw some more grenades. Looking at Trowa as he threw his last explosive, he decided that it was now or never.

"I love you." He didn't shout it, nor did he whisper it. He didn't think that Trowa even heard it, but it didn't matter. He had finally said it out loud. His only regret being that he didn't say it sooner. He wished that they could have had the chance to be happy together. Tears sprang to his eyes as he reached behind him to bring his other gun to bear. "I love you." He saw more troops round the far corner and knew that this was the end. At least it's been good. He thought of Duo and all of the drinks he would no longer be able to share with the braided idiot. His best friend. It's a fucked up world and a fucked up place…Fucked up dreams and a fucked up life…

The canister bounced to his feet. Being too busy taking out as many soldiers as possible, Quatre only spared the bottle a glance, but a glance was all it took. Gas. He choked as the heavy smoke drifted upward. He clutched at Trowa's arm as his vision began to waiver. He dimly felt Trowa reach around his waist and drag him behind. The world started to tilt and he leaned his head on Trowa's back. His knees began to sag and he dropped his gun.

"Trowa…I…love…you…" He slumped to the ground, the world going black.

______________________________

"I love you." Trowa barely heard the confession over the constant popping of bullets. He saw the thick gas rise from the canister at Quatre's feet. His Quatre. The Quatre that loved him. Trowa's heart swelled even in the battle-Quatre loved him. Trowa reached around Quatre's waist as he saw the blonde stumble. He dragged Quatre behind him, preparing to make a run for it, although he had no idea where he'd go. There were soldiers everywhere. He coughed as he inhaled stale gas-the same gas that was currently causing Quatre to slump against him. Shit. Quatre. He fired a few more rounds into the crowd, emptying one gun. Four bullets left in his other gun. No grenades, and an almost unconscience Quatre. Fuck. Trowa felt the ground lurch under him as the gas began to take effect. Protect Quatre. Get Quatre to safety. Protect…

"Trowa…I…love…you…" Trowa felt Quatre slide down his back. He turned to catch his love, but Quatre had already crumpled to the floor.

"NO!" Trowa's anguished wail cut through the cacophony of bullets and shouted orders. "Quatre!" He bent down beside the inert pilot. "Quatre." He could feel the gas dulling his senses. He was barely aware of several soldiers bearing down on the two of them. He didn't care at this point. "I love you too."

His vision finally failed as conscienceness abandoned him. His last glimpse of the world was Quatre.

______________________________

"They were supposed to be back two days ago." It was an accusation. Une pinched the bridge of her nose, the action becoming more of a habit in the last week.

"Wufei, I haven't heard from them."

"Bullshit." She glanced sharply at the Chinese pilot-the only one who hadn't gotten an assignment. Not after the message she had received from Quatre. There was no way in hell she'd place another pilot's life in danger, now. Heero and Duo had already left on their mission when she had received Quatre's warning.

"I heard from Quatre, but it wasn't good." Wufei didn't say anything; he just glared and patiently waited for her to continue. Her voice shook as she continued. "He called from the base. They were ambushed, at least that's what it sounded like." Wufei raised an eyebrow. "He said that they walked into a trap. He said that there was a leak."

"Why didn't you inform me?" Wufei's voice was unnaturally compassionate.

"I was afraid that whomever the informant is would over hear. I have no idea who it is."

"I'm going after them. Who knows what kind of condition they're in." Wufei turned to the door.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." Again, a raised eyebrow questioned her. "I would've called Heero and Duo back if I could have reached them. I'm not losing anyone else. That's why you and the rest of the Preventers haven't had any missions."

"This is war, Lady. Sacrifices have to be made, but not needless sacrifices."

"That's why you're not leaving."

"No, that's why I am leaving. Quatre and Trowa are essential to our operation. If you didn't figure that out during either war, then you're blind. I won't leave either of them to rot in a cell, or to be interrogated, or killed. If I can rescue them, I will. And, Lady," Wufei paused at the door, keeping it closed, "Heero and Duo would do the exact same thing. You forget that we are Gundam pilots. We may not have our Gundams, but we never needed them in the first place." She watched as Wufei threw the door open and gently closed it behind him. Without the Gundam pilots, there would be no peace. You ask me, Wufei, to destroy those to whom everyone owes their lives. Godspeed, Wufei. Please bring them home safe.

______________________________

Trowa couldn't feel his legs. Or his arms. Or the rest of his body. He gingerly moved what he hoped was an arm, carefully testing it for any injuries. He slowly and painfully opened an eye, darkness streaming in and piercing his brain with its intensity. Wait-darkness was making him feel like he had the world's most painful hangover? That was fucked up. He pushed himself to a sitting position, wondering idly why his hands weren't bound. He blinked his eyes, a few ghost images beginning to materialize from the darkness. Great. I'm in a cell; I'm a fucking prisoner. He rubbed his wrist trying to get feeling back into his arm. What the fuck happened? I remember the mission. I remember the hotel. I remember waking up next to…Quatre. Oh, fuck. Where was Quatre? He desperately scanned the cell for Quatre. Fuck. Nothing. He crawled along the floor, searching with his hands. Please let Quatre be here, please let him be okay. His hands ran into something hard. Cold and hard, like cement. Fuck, it's just the fucking wall. Trowa turned and slumped against the cold cement. He brought his hands to his face, and cried.

Quatre.

"Trowa…I…love…you…"

Oh, Quatre. I love you.

He curled himself into a ball and hoped. Please be okay, Quatre. I don't know what I would do if you weren't. I'll kill anyone who harms you. I love you, Little One.

"Trowa…I…love…you…"

Quatre.

He woke up to the grating sound of metal dragging on cement. Harsh light streamed into his meager cell, blinding him to the three shadows standing in the doorway.

"Get your ass in there." He could only assume that that was the guard's threatening voice. Shit. That wasn't directed at me. He heard a muffled groan as something came tumbling into the cell. The door slammed shut, allowing his eyes to readjust to the darkness. He could hear muffled whimpers and held back sobs as the gray figure huddled against the other wall. He cautiously approached the figure, hoping that it was Quatre. He reached out to touch the trembling body.

"Quatre?" He could feel the body tense up as he fingers made contact with flesh. Bound wrists swatted at his hand.

"No! Don't touch me, please…don't…" It was Quatre's voice. He was hysterical. Trowa reached for Quatre's shoulders and pulled the frightened pilot to him.

"Shh, it's okay, Quatre. It's only me, Quatre. Shh, it's Trowa. It's okay." He rocked the flailing body against him, ignoring the frightened cries and pleads. What the hell had happened? He didn't know how long he sat there with Quatre fighting him. What had caused Quatre to be this scared? He continued to comfort, as tears of his own rolled down his cheeks. I'm going to kill those bastards. "Quatre, it's me. It's Trowa." Quatre stopped struggling as his body wore out.

"Trowa?" Quatre didn't sound as though he was sure. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Little One. It's me, I'm here." Trowa brushed falling tears from Quatre's face, wincing as Quatre flinched away from his touch. A horrid realization popped into his head…no. That would never have happened to Quatre. Impossible.

"Don't let them touch me again, Trowa. Please." Quatre grasped at his turtleneck with bounded hands. "Don't let them." Fresh tears tracked their way down Quatre's face as he buried his head in his chest. He pulled Quatre closer to him, noticing that Quatre was still tense. The door to their cell grated open again, and two burly men stepped into the small room.

"Take 04, again." Trowa held on to Quatre with an almost crushing grip as Quatre began to shake. He wasn't going to let Quatre go. One of the guards approached, and reached out to grab Quatre. Quatre screamed as the guard's hands made contact. Trowa twisted Quatre away from the soldier. He saw the guard pull out a gun, as he bent over Quatre. Searing pain lanced through his skull as Quatre was ripped screaming and struggling from his arms.

"Quatre!" He could hear himself yelling for his love as the world spun and went black.

______________________________

"To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" A young man sneered at her.

"This is Lady Une. How may I help you?" She didn't like the expression on his face.

"Oh, Lady. Is that disdain I hear in your voice? Be careful, Lady. We have something you want." The officer chuckled at Une's carefully guarded expression. "I won't show you how he came to be this way, I'll let you figure that one out for yourself." He stepped aside and watched as Une's face went white with shock. He turned to look at the scene she was seeing.

The blonde hair almost wasn't recognizable with all of the blood drying in it. The pale skin was even paler than normal, and was decorated generously with heavy black bruises and threatening bloody cuts. The eyes, though, they were the worst. She had thought that his eyes were cold and hard in the meeting a few days ago, but that was nothing compared to this. His eyes stared out at nothing, cold as stone. The kind of stone that sends shivers down your spine when seen at twilight. She could see that he was giving up. They had almost defeated him. Quatre. He lay there on his stomach; face contorted with pain, and tears still spilling from his eerily beautiful eyes. She could still see Quatre in those eyes; he wasn't gone yet. But it would take a miracle for him to survive.

"What have you done to him?" He looked like he could be dead. His clothes were shredded, revealing more abused skin. The officer chuckled.

"I told you that I wouldn't give you the details. A Lady shouldn't be subjected to that."

"What is it you want?"

"I've heard through the grapevine that you have the Gundams. I suggest that you destroy them, or the currently healthy pilot that we have will look just like this one." So they had Trowa as well, and apparently they haven't done anything to him…yet. Shit. They knew about the Gundams.

"The Gundams were destroyed at the end of the Eve Wars. We don't have the Gundams." Une hoped that the officer couldn't see through her bluff. This is worse than I thought, Wufei, please be careful. Please hurry. Quatre won't last long.

"The spoils of war are wonderful, are they not, Lady?"

"You're sick."

"No, I'm in control." Quatre let out a terrifying scream that caused Une to grip the edge of her desk in shear terror. Oh, God, no, please, no. Quatre. She could see blood pooling around Quatre's shoulder. Oh, God, no. Please, Quatre. A litany of prayers cycled through her head. Please hurry, Wufei, please. "Think on our little discussion." The line was severed and Une collapsed on the floor, tears streaking down her face.

"Sally! Noin! Somebody!" Une squeezed her eyes closed and screamed for anybody. She barely registered her office door swinging open. Strong arms encircled her, and she heard Zechs asking what was wrong. She tried to speak, but only painful sobs came out. She pointed to the screen on her desk. Thankful in a small way that she recorded all transmissions to and from her screen. She heard Noin speak to Zechs and then the awful voice of that officer. She clamped her hands over her ears and prayed that she wouldn't have to hear Quatre's cry again. Little, sweet, funny, intelligent, loving, Quatre. Not Quatre. God.

"Wufei." Une whispered after the transmission was finished.

"What about Wufei?" Noin bent down beside Une and wrapped her arms around her. She saw Noin crying.

"He needs to see this. He needs to be prepared." She saw Zechs nod. Please hurry Wufei. Please hurry.

______________________________

Trowa's head screamed at him for waking up. He moved a hand to the back of his protesting head, feeling the large knot from the guard's gun. Fuck. He could hear Quatre whimpering close by. Quatre.

"Quatre." His body protested his movement, but Quatre was more important. He remembered Quatre's fear. He could still feel his struggles marked in bruises along his legs.

"No. Don't…touch…me. Go away." Quatre was crying. He could see the sobs racking his small frame.

"Quatre." He couldn't think of anything else to say, so he kept repeating his love's name. His hands finally came into contact with Quatre's tormented body, and he barely dodged Quatre's jerking kick. "It's me, Quatre! It's Trowa!" He laid his hand on Quatre's shoulder and lowered his body quickly behind Quatre's curled form. He slid his hand down Quatre's arm and pulled the shaking body to him. "Shh, it's okay." He wrapped his leg over Quatre's hip. Quatre tried to struggle, but soon quieted down when Trowa made no other move.

"Please…don't touch me." The pain in Quatre's voice tore at Trowa's heart as he realized what had been done to Quatre. He had acted the same way when it had happened to him.

"It's okay, Quatre. It's not your fault. It's not your fault." Tears pushed themselves out of his eyes as he comforted Quatre. God, no. It wasn't supposed to happen to Quatre. Not to Quatre. Quatre started crying again.

"They touched me." He closed his eyes, and pulled Quatre closer.

"It's okay, now. I'm here."

"But you'll be disgusted. I'm used, now." Quatre's whole body shook with his sobs.

"I could never be disgusted with you, Quatre. Never. I love you, Quatre, and nothing can change that. Nothing." Keep telling him. Keep holding him. Make him feel loved. All of the things that were never given to me…until Quatre gave them to me.

"You…do?" He felt Quatre shift and squirm until he was turned around in his embrace. He gazed into Quatre's eyes.

"I love you." He slowly bent toward Quatre, making it obvious what he was doing. He paused, lips brushing Quatre's. When Quatre made no move to pull away, he closed the distance. Quatre tensed up even more as their lips touched. He didn't rush, though his heart pounded in his chest. He was finally kissing his angel. He could feel Quatre begin to relax, and he deepened the kiss slightly. He tried to show Quatre how much he loved him. Quatre moved closer and deepened the kiss even more. Trowa opened his mouth, moving his tongue over Quatre's lips. Slowly, Quatre opened his mouth, allowing Trowa to slide his tongue in. He was gentle and slow, not wanting to startle Quatre, as he began his exploration of his angel's mouth. He felt Quatre's bounded hands tangle themselves in his hair, and he combed his fingers through the pale locks, littered with drying blood. Trowa pulled back at the acquirement of that image. Shit.

"What's wrong?" Quatre's voice shook and he began to tense up a bit. He ran a finger over Quatre's face.

"You have blood all over you. What else did they do to you?" Quatre self-consciously reached up and fingered some of his hair. Trowa grinned.

"They tried to beat the shit out of me." Trowa though he was going to explode. Anger surged through his veins. First, they beat my Quatre up, then they rape him. He brushed some errant locks from Quatre's face.

`It's okay, Little One. We'll get out of here soon. Everything will be okay."

"Promise?" He leaned closer to Quatre.

"I'll do better, Little One. I'll love you." His anger washed away at Quatre's smile.

"I love you, too." He kissed Quatre again, invading his lover's mouth, causing Quatre to moan against him.

The door grated open, throwing searing light upon the couple. Trowa's head jerked up and glared at the intruding guards. Quatre cowered in his embrace.

"Aw, isn't that cute? The two prisoners have the hots for each other." Trowa ran his hand down Quatre's back trying to keep his attention away from the guards. "I just had orders for the blonde one, but I think that boss will like to have them both, now."

"Smart. Break the blonde in front of his lover. That should break `em both."

"Quatre, it's okay. I'll be there with you." He whispered into dirty blonde hair. "I'll be there to give you strength." Surrendering with murder in his eyes, he slowly got to his feet, gently pulling Quatre up with him. He kept a comforting hand on Quatre's arm, telling the guards it was there to keep him steady. Holding his head up for Quatre, he led them into the interrogation room. Please. Let there be a miracle.

The room was sparsely furnished, one table in the center of the room. It had two windows facing out in different directions. They were in a corner room. Trowa shivered, pulling Quatre closer to him. One of the guards that escorted them here roughly grabbed Quatre and threw him at the table. Quatre grunted as his already broken body hit the edge of the counter. Trowa surged forward, but was restrained by the other escort. A punch in the jaw that snapped his head to the side alerted him to his boundaries. He glared at the officer as he walked toward Quatre. I'll kill you if you touch my Quatre.

"I really like you. I couldn't wait to have more fun with you." The officer knelt beside Quatre, roughly stroking his tear-streaked face. "So I hear that you have a lover. Tsk, tsk. You should have told me this sooner, I could have included him in our fun." Quatre's eyes became hard. Trowa scowled at the officer.

The officer grabbed Quatre's pants and yanked them down. "I want you. After I take you, I'll take your boyfriend." Trowa's anger heightened as he watched the officer smack Quatre. "This time, you won't be able to bite. I'll just kill your lover if you do." Quatre's eyes grew cold and calculating. Trowa clenched his hands into fists as the officer manhandled Quatre until he was on his hands and knees.

Trowa closed his eyes in anger. Quatre closed his in humiliation. "I think I'll take you first, though. You are a good ride." Quatre seemed to draw a knee up, as if trying to get away. Trowa leaned toward Quatre, his hand reaching out to his fallen lover.

"No!" Trowa shouted, anger surging through his body. The officer paid him no heed, and Quatre cried out a raw bloody scream. "Quatre!" No one saw Quatre move. The officer writhed on the floor clutching at his crotch as Quatre struggled to pull his pants up, rolling under the table for cover. Trowa slammed back into his restrainer, and kicked another guard in the throat. With the death grip gone form his shoulders, Trowa spun away from his ward, throwing a punch at the soldier's nose. The officer began to get up, looking around wildly for Quatre as alarms began blaring through the base.

"We are under attack. I repeat: we are under attack. One enemy mobile suit." Quatre leapt up, slow from pain, and attacked the last guard. He kicked at the guards knee as he received a well-placed punch in the temple. Trowa saw Quatre stumble, but was too busy with the officer to help. He deflected a roundhouse punch and dove out of the way of an incoming kick. Rolling to his feet, he heard a gun shot, and saw the officer fall into a heap on the floor. He moved to Quatre's side as the gun was lowered, tears rolling out of fogged eyes. He gently took the gun out of Quatre's hand.

"It's over, Quatre." He brushed some rust colored hair out of Quatre's eyes, eyes that were beginning to come back to life. "I love you." Quatre turned his blue eyes to him and smiled a weary smile. Trowa reached out to draw Quatre into an embrace as Quatre collapsed. "Quatre!" He eased Quatre to the floor as the far wall crumbled, offering a view of a war-torn base, and a very welcome Preventer MS. The cockpit hatch opened, and Wufei jumped out, running over to them.

"Where's Quatre?" Wufei's voice had a hysterical edge to it as he scanned the broken room, finally seeing Quatre's legs from behind Trowa. "Is he okay?" He nodded.

"Do you have transport?"

"Sally's waiting for us with a truck not too far from here." Trowa scooped Quatre into his arms.

"Lead the way." Wufei turned toward the mobile suit.

"I'll carry you, just get in the hand." Trowa nodded his acknowledgement, and shifted Quatre in his arms. Please hurry Wufei. He held Quatre to him as the mobile suit rose gracefully in the air; tenderly brushing blood soaked locks out of his beautiful face. Oh, Quatre. Please hold on. A few minutes later, the suit landed beside a transportation truck with a worried Sally running to meet them.

"How is he?"

"At least three broken ribs, various bruises and cuts all over, and…" Sally guided Trowa over to the truck, instructing him to place Quatre on the back seats and cut his bonds.

"And, what?" Sally was leaning over Quatre, injecting painkillers and disinfectants in his arm. Trowa looked around for Wufei before answering. He didn't want the other pilot to know what had happened.

"He was…was raped." Sally smoothed back Quatre's hair and looked down at him compassionately.

"We had guessed that. Une received a communication, and forwarded it to us. Wufei was ready to go on a killing spree, but I wouldn't let him. We needed to get Quatre back first."

"He definitely took out some anger on that base. I don't think there's anything left of it." Sally chuckled sadly, wrapping a bandage around Quatre's bloody wrist. "Will he be alright, Sally?"

"I think so." Wufei climbed behind the wheel as Trowa situated himself by Quatre's head, gently cradling it in his lap. The frantic drive to a hospital was done in complete silence.

Quatre, hold on. "I love you."