Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Family Ties ❯ Chapter 95 ( Chapter 95 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Zechs takes care of the injured pilots. Barton learns of the demise of Sampson and the others. Heero and Duo prepare to enter the control room and take Barton down.

Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Hentai / Romance / Suspense / Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.13.2010 | Pages: 9 | Words: 8.7K | Visits: 244 | Status: Completed

“Family Ties”

January 2007 ShenLong

Chapter 95

[Preventer Shuttle 221]

Once Trowa was safely in the medical bay, Zechs took over.

“I'll take a look at Trowa first and then I'll treat you two for any injuries. Help him onto the bed,” he ordered, Quatre and Wufei quickly assisted the Latin. “Remove his boots and undo the top of his flight suit,” Zechs said from where he was investigating the contents of the supply cupboard.

“I'll take the boots,” Wufei stated with a small blush.

“No problem.” Quatre moved to his husband's side. “I need to remove your flight suit so Zechs can check you over,” he told Trowa. “Wufei will take off your boots.”

“Okay.” Trowa shifted a little.

Carefully, Quatre began to undo the catches and then lower the zipper to the flight suit. The material was clingy, wanting to stay stuck to Trowa's skin. The suits had to be that way in order for the pilot to function with minimal hindrance.

Quatre decided it would probably be easier if he could get the suit off Trowa's good arm first, that way he'd have a little more material to work with when removing the sleeve from the injured arm. He did his best to work the sleeve off, but Trowa still winced and the occasional moan escaped even though he grit his teeth. “I'm sorry,” Quatre murmured. “I'm not trying to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“Zechs? Is there any morphine in that supply kit?” Quatre asked.

Wufei froze. Slowly his onyx eyes raised themselves and he darted a glance at Winner first, then Barton.

A brief flash of amusement passed through emerald as Trowa caught the silent question. Knowing how Quatre reacted to morphine and the experiences Wufei had gone through with the blonde 'under the influence' Trowa could hardly blame the man for his look of fear.

“Don't worry, Wufei. Morphine doesn't have that effect on me,” he whispered.

Wufei gave a soft sigh of relief and visibly relaxed.

Zechs stepped over, a phial and syringe in hand. “Yes, there is. I'll give him a shot of the morphine now. It should start to work in a few minutes.” With the syringe now containing the drug, Zechs located a vein close to Trowa's wrist as he couldn't access his arm as yet, and injected the drug.

Tossing the used items into the trash and the needle into the sharps container, Zechs stepped back and observed the pilot closely. Within a couple of minutes he noticed the eyes starting to take on a glassy look and knew the drug was working. “Okay, I think you can continue now.”

Gently, Quatre managed to get the left arm free then he had a little more room to work with and removed the right arm, Trowa only crying out in pain once.

With the flight suit now removed from Trowa's arms and pushed down to encompass his torso, Wufei set about getting the boot off. He managed to remove the boot from the uninjured foot and then turned his attention to the other one. Releasing the zipper and catch from the side of the boot, he took it firmly in both hands and began to try and work it off Trowa's foot.

“Ow!”

“Sorry.” Wufei studied the boot and ankle again before attempting to remove it once more. Doing his best to keep the foot still, he pulled lightly.

“Fuck, Chang! You trying to remove my entire foot?!” Trowa cried out.

“I'm sorry, I'm not doing this on purpose,” Wufei huffed. “I have to get the boot off before the ankle swells too much.”

“Let me try,” Zechs said and stepped forward. Wufei moved to the side, happy for Zechs to have a go at removing the boot. Taking the heel in one hand and the toe in the other, Zechs did his best to manipulate the boot off the injured foot.

“Shit! Fucking hell!” Trowa cursed as white hot pain lanced up his calf and through his ankle.

“Trowa! Watch your language!” Quatre snapped.

“Ouch, Ohhh, but that really hurts,” Trowa hissed, his voice dripping with sarcasm, teeth gritted against the waves of pain.

“There's no need for that, either,” Quatre sniffed.

Zechs barely managed to hold the snicker.

“It bloody well hurts!” Trowa protested.

“I'll give you a little more morphine,” said Zechs in an attempt to diffuse the situation and also get the boot off.

“Is that wise?” Quatre questioned.

“I don't care if it is or it isn't, just give me the damn pain killers,” Trowa growled. The pain in his ankle was intensifying with the attempts to remove the boot and if they were insisting they remove it, then Trowa wanted all the assistance he could get to handle the pain. He wasn't a wimp by any means, but he couldn't see the logic in suffering any more than he had to if there was something he could have to lessen the pain.

Zechs prepared another injection, careful to make sure the amount was still within the maximum dose range allowed and sent the drug into Trowa's blood stream. After a couple of minutes, he ventured forth to see how his patient was feeling. “Pain starting to go?” he asked. “I really need to get that boot off as soon as possible; I'll have to cut it off otherwise.”

Clouded emerald looked at the tall blonde. Trowa swayed a little on the bed. “Did anyone ever tell you, you're a striking looking man, Zechs?”

There was stunned silence.

Trowa spoke again, his voice taking on a dreamy tone. “Yes, you're quite handsome. All that long, lovely hair, gorgeous blue eyes...” Trowa swallowed and let his eyes rake over the tall form of Zechs who was turning an interesting shade of red. “Oh, and that body...” Trowa licked his lips.

A discrete cough came from the side.

“Mmm... That body,” Trowa continued, completely oblivious to anyone or anything other than his own ramblings, the morphine coursing through his system loosening his tongue and sending his brain into a world of dreams. “I'll bet you taste just as good as you look.” The monologue was brought to a halt as a hand waved itself in front of Trowa's face.

“Excuse me. Remember me? Your husband?” Quatre stated in a flat tone. Clearly he was not amused.

Clouded emerald turned and locked onto the body of his lover. “Ohhh, another blonde, cute too.” A soft sigh left Trowa's lips. “I have a thing for blondes,” he told Wufei, turning to look the Chinese agent in the eyes. “Not that you're not hot, you are; all that golden skin, black locks and exotic features.”

“TROWA!”

“Huh?” Trowa turned to face his husband once more.

“May I remind you that I am the one you are married to, not chopped liver.” Quatre's tone was quite strong as he voiced his annoyance.

“But of course my little snuggle bunny,” Trowa said as he again swayed slightly on the bed, eyes drifting in and out of focus.

The tips of Quatre's ears turned red.

“Snuggle bunny?” Wufei whispered.

“If you value your life, don't ask,” Quatre growled in a low tone.

“Nothing wrong with appreciating another male body. Especially ones that are this hot, as long as I look but don't touch,” Trowa continued to waffle. “Don't be jealous my Tinkerbell, you are still the number one blonde for me.” He added a few smooching sounds to the dialogue and caused Quatre to turn beet red.

“I've got it off,” Zechs said to which three sets of eyes turned in question towards him. “Um, the boot,” he clarified and held Trowa's boot up high for them all to see.

Two relieved sighs and one soft thump were his reply. Trowa toppled back onto the bed, his eyes closed.

“Is he okay?” asked Wufei.

“He'd better be, I fully intend to rip him a new one when he comes around,” Quatre stated in a tone that clearly said he wasn't joking.

“I think he's just passed out for a moment from the pain and the amount of morphine in his system,” Zechs supplied. “Can someone give me a hand, please?”

“Hopefully, for the sake of his health he will stay under for quite some time,” Quatre muttered.

“I thought he said morphine didn't affect him?” Wufei questioned as he held the ankle for Zechs to examine.

“No, he said it didn't affect him the same way it affects me,” Quatre replied. “Usually Trowa is fine with morphine, it must have been the extra amount. If he does have too much he tends to get... shall we say, a little amorous and free with his comments?”

At hearing those words, Wufei turned his attention back to Zechs as his mind went into overdrive. “Merquise, can you hurry it up and do what's necessary for him, we need to get into the Dome and assist Agents Night and Day.” Wufei really didn't want to be anywhere around Barton when he woke up, in fact, he'd rather be as far away as possible until the morphine was completely out of the Latin's system. Somehow, seeing Barton, who was a normally quiet man, suddenly turning into a sex kitten sprouting all sorts of endearments was not what he really wanted to witness - it was almost as bad as Winner and his button and switch fetish. Wufei shuddered.

“Hold your horses, Chang. I'm almost done in my preliminary examination,” Zechs replied as he continued to poke and prod gently around. Straightening his back after a minute or so, Zechs looked at the other two. “Without x-rays I can't be completely certain the ankle isn't fractured. I'm pretty sure the shoulder is just strained and the blow to the head looks worse than it actually is. I'll strap the ankle for now and also the shoulder. The head wound needs to be cleaned but I think we will get away without having to stitch it.” Zechs paused for a moment. “I'll strap everything that needs to be strapped and then leave you to clean the head wound, Quatre. Wufei and I really need to get into the Dome to assist the other agents.”

Quatre nodded. “That's fine with me.”

“Good. I'll get started now.” He turned to Chang. “I intend to check you too,” he said.

“Me? I'm fine,” sniffed Wufei.

“You might say you are, but I distinctly noticed a very slight limp when you were helping Trowa.”

Wufei turned a little red. “I took a whack to my knee but I'm not compromised,” he stated stubbornly.

“No one is saying you are. I just want to check it and make sure you won't do any further damage. The longer you argue with me, the longer it will be before we can assist Heero and Duo. I will not allow you to continue on without being assessed first,” Zechs informed, equally as stubborn.

“Fine.” Wufei glared. “But hurry up.”

Zechs hid the smile and fetched the items he would need.

Ten minutes later, Trowa's ankle was firmly bound and an ice pack in place. His shoulder was similarly wrapped and all through the procedure, the Latin had remained semi- conscious, only embarrassing Quatre once with his outspoken endearments, much to the blonde's relief.

Zechs checked Wufei's knee and found a bruise and swelling making its presence known. He dealt quickly with it, strapping Chang's knee so it was supported but wouldn't interfere with the agent's mobility. Satisfied he'd done all he could for the moment, he stood and addressed the agents.

“Chang, you and I will head for the Dome, locate and join Night and Day. Winner, I want you to stay here with Barton, clean the head wound and once he's stable I want a full diagnostics check on the shuttle and Gundams. All damage is to be noted and repair what you can. We're going to need this bucket of bolts to get the Gundams back to earth. I'll also leave you some pills for Barton to help keep the pain to a minimum - and they're not morphine based,” he added quickly when he saw the look on Quatre and Wufei's faces.

Both Quatre and Wufei nodded.

“Good. Chang, do you still have your palm top with you?”

“Yes.”

“Bring it; we will need it to locate the other two. Grab a couple of communicators whilst you're at it and a few sets of handcuffs. I'll meet you back here in five minutes. I'm going to the cockpit to contact Heero and find out where they are. I'll also put in a call to HQ and ask them to have Une report to communications. Winner, I'll leave you to fill the Commander in completely on the status to date. Also, see what you can find out in regards to Barton's army, if it's arrived yet and what their status is.”

“Roger that,” Quatre replied and took another glance at his half-awake husband. Trowa seemed to be settling a bit better now.

“Good. Let's move out, agents.”

Zechs departed for the cockpit, Wufei disappeared to get his palm top, handcuffs and communicators that Zechs had requested whilst Quatre fetched a bowl of warm water and sprinkled a liberal amount of antiseptic in it.

Setting the bowl down next to his lover, Quatre picked up the piece of gauze, dipped it into the liquid and then brushed Trowa's bang back out of the way. Then he began to swab.

“Ow, that stings!” Trowa protested as he was jolted from his fantasy world of blonde hair and gorgeous bodies.

“Stop being such a wimp and act like a man my little angel cake...”

* * *

[Satellite XRB 23 Control Room]

Barton was not happy. In fact, he was downright pissed off. His suits were taking a hammering and he hadn't heard from Sampson and the others for a while. Pulling his eyes away from the carnage on the screen, he turned to locate Craven. Spotting the man by a console, he opened his mouth. “Craven!”

Craven almost wet himself when he heard his name barked out. “Sir?”

“What is going on with Sampson and the others? Have they caught those two bastards yet?”

Swallowing hard, Craven looked at Simons who promptly shrugged his shoulders. “I don't get paid enough to play with lions,” Simons stated.

“Thanks,” muttered Craven before taking a deep breath and deciding it would be best to just get this over with. Turning to face his boss, Craven began to speak, doing his best to keep his voice from shaking. “Ah, we have a slight problem with the intercepting party.”

Barton raised an eyebrow. “Slight problem?” he asked, the anger simmering in his voice. “What sort of a slight problem?”

“Well, you see, we've only just managed to pick up on the party, sir; and they're... errr... that is...”

“Craven...” Barton's voice was low and dangerous.

“The patrol is incapacitated, sir.” The words left Craven's mouth in a rush.

“Incapacitated? What the hell are you rabbiting on about!?”

“We can't tell if they're dead or injured - sir.”

Simons ducked for cover under his console as he felt the tension in the room shoot up.

“Dead or injured? What the hell do you mean by that sort of statement? Where? How?” Barton spun around and charged across the room. “You were supposed to be following them with the cameras, alerting them to where those pair of ass wipes are,” Barton thundered.

“I was, sir,” Craven squeaked in his own defense. “It took a few minutes to bring the cameras up and then locate where they were. By that stage it was too late.”

Barton shoved the tech aside from the console and stared at the screen. His mouth was set in a grim line. “Zoom it in,” he ordered.

“I don't kno-”

“I said, zoom it in,” Barton repeated, his tone icy.

“Ah, yes, sir. Right away, sir.” Craven took up the console again and did his best to get the camera to zoom in closer and still keep some reasonable focus. “That's the best I can do, sir.”

“Zaheer, get over here,” Barton ordered.

The hulking man stepped out of the shadows and across the room to stand beside his boss. He stared at the screen, face impassive as he took in the sight.

“Well?” Barton demanded.

“This is what happens when you send incompetent fools to do a man's job,” Zaheer sneered. “I'd say that Sampson is wounded, Tewson looks like he's still breathing, but the other two...” Zaheer peered closer. “Most likely dead, sir.”

Barton's temper was beginning to get the better of him, his eyes turned hard as he listened to the voice of Zaheer. “If I wanted a lecture, I would have asked for one,” he snapped. “Just remember who you are talking to, Zaheer.” With the large man suitably put in his place, Barton turned to Craven again. “I want to know exactly where the group is.”

“Of course.” Craven fiddled with the console for a moment. “They are in corridor eight, sector thirteen, section J in Dome one,” Craven rattled off.

Barton stared off into the distance, a thoughtful look on his face. “Bring up the blueprints of the Dome,” he ordered. Turning to Zaheer, he spoke, “I think it's safe to say they are obviously on their way here.”

“Brilliant deduction,” Zaheer whispered under his breath.

“Blueprints are up,” Craven informed and Barton turned back to the console screen.

“This is where Sampson is,” he stated and pointed to a spot on the map. “And this is where we are,” he continued and pointed to another place on the map. “We are in section M, sector seven which means they are only a couple of sections away. Hmmm...”

Zaheer waited patiently. He knew what would be coming and he could barely hold the smirk.

“Zaheer, take Matthews with you and stand guard outside the control room door. Do not let anyone in at all.”

The smirk intensified. “As you wish.” He turned and faced Matthews, giving the other man a nod.

Matthews removed his gun from the holster and checked the clip, leaving the safety on for the moment. “All set,” he told Zaheer.

With his own gun in hand, Zaheer started to move towards the control room door, Barton's parting words halting him for a moment.

“Kill them, Zaheer. I don't care how you do it, just kill them.”

Zaheer gave a nod, the glint in his eye telling how pleased he was with that order and that it was one he was really looking forward to carrying out. The thought of taking down that long haired nuisance warmed him and he fully intended to make the man pay. Yes, Zaheer would have his revenge, he would be sure to make that bastard's last minutes alive hell on earth. By the time Zaheer was done, that freak would be begging for his death.

With Matthews by his side, Zaheer and the other man stepped out of the control room and into the corridor.

* * *

[Shuttle 221 Cockpit]

“Agent Day, this is Wind, do you copy?”

“Copy, Wind.”

Zechs heaved a sigh of relief. “Mission status?”

“All still go ahead. Night and myself have had a slight altercation with four of Barton's henchmen since leaving the senators. We assume they were out to locate us.”

“What happened?”

Heero gave Zechs a brief outline of their encounter with Sampson and the group. “Two are confirmed dead, the other two are unconscious and injured, nothing immediately life threatening.”

“That's a relief,” Zechs said with a touch of sarcasm. “Need I remind you that Une wants them alive.”

“I know that, Wind and we did everything possible to incapacitate and not kill. One was shot by their own group.”

“Really?”

“I'll put it all in a report later. Right now we don't have the time.”

“What is yours and Night's status?”

“Minor injuries, mainly cuts and scrapes.” Heero just managed to stop himself from adding his husband's pregnancy to the list. “Both still functional although Duo does have a nasty bullet crease to the hip.”

Zechs heard what sounded like a growl and several curse words directed at Day. “What is your location?” he asked and ignored Duo's background sniping.

“On our way to the control room. We should be a couple of corridors away.”

“Roger that. Agent Fire and myself are coming in to assist you. All mobile suits have been taken out; Space and Air are remaining in the shuttle. Air has some minor injuries and a happy disposition. Space is okay and taking care of him; both will check the shuttle and effect any necessary repairs they can whilst we are coming in to back you up.”

“Happy disposition?” Heero questioned.

“Never mind, I'll tell you later. Fire and I are on our way now. Will contact again soon. Wind, out.”

“Roger, Wind. Day out.”

Zechs placed a quick call to Preventer Headquarters and requested Une's presence in the communications room for Quatre to speak with as soon as was possible. His communications taken care of, Zechs departed the cockpit and headed back to the medical bay and Wufei.

* * *

[Outside Corridor to the Control Room]

Heero ducked into the alcove, his comm unit beeping softly. Reaching for it, he answered the call. A couple of minutes later he tucked it back into the pocket of his flight suit. “Fire and Wind are on their way to join us and should be here soon. Air and Space are remaining at the shuttle and repairing any and all damage that they can. Suits have all been taken out,” he informed his partner.

Duo breathed a soft sigh of relief, then switching his mind back to the present situation, he rounded on his lover.

“I can't believe that you haven't got something planned,” Duo berated his lover as they hid as best they could in the alcove.

Heero glared at Duo. “Why does it always have to be me that comes up with the plan?”

“You were the one that came here with the orders from Une to locate and arrest Barton.”

“That still doesn't answer my question,” Heero returned.

Duo gave a long suffering sigh. “Look, we can argue about the planning, or lack of, later, right now we need to figure something out. We can't exactly waltz in there and demand Barton to give himself up.”

“True. We don't know how many are in there, if they are armed or not and if so, how many are armed and how many are just the grunt or tech staff. Une was quite specific about avoiding casualties wherever we can. She wants as many alive to stand trial as possible.”

“I'm all for avoiding killing anyone if we can. What did she say about injuring, inflicting non- fatal wounds, maiming?” Duo's eyes held a glint to them as he spoke.

Heero knew that look and raised an eyebrow. “Nothing, why?”

“Oh, there's just a certain person or two I'd like to settle a score with. As long as Une doesn't mind them being a little banged up then I'm happy to comply to a point.” Duo's eyes darkened as Shinigami appeared for a moment. “But I'm telling you now, Heero, there is one person, and if I see him, all bets are off.”

Heero nodded. “I understand. There are a few people I'd rather see six feet under, but whether that happens will remain to be seen,” he growled.

“Okay, buddy. We're agreed then. Now, next thing is how the hell do we get in there?”

Blue eyes darkened as Heero thought about that.

“Shh… I hear something,” Duo suddenly said and flattened himself into the alcove.

Heero followed suit, keeping himself out of sight and silent. He watched as his partner slowly inched his head forward and took a peek around the edge of the alcove, only to pull his head back sharply. Duo turned to face Heero and the Japanese man saw the unholy fire that was Shinigami sparking in those purple depths. “What is it?” he whispered.

“You remember me telling you about that person that if I saw them all bets were off on?”

“Hai.”

“He just stepped out of the control room and into the corridor.”

~ * ~

tbc...