Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Heart's Treason ❯ Chapter 2

Heart's Treason

By Llewlyn

Summary: Thrown in an OZ cell together, Zechs and Trowa fall in love. But before they realize it, they're torn apart.

Rating: PG-13 for chapters 1-4, NC-17 for a lemon in chapter 5 and lime in the epilogue.

Time passed in the cell. The two prisoners had seemingly been forgotten by the outside world, and eventually thoughts of the outside world faded from the front of their minds. Of course they still made futile attempts at planning an escape, but all were improbable, involving everything from taking the building hostage from inside their cell to digging through solid metal with an ordinary knife.

They kept occupied by sparring in the cell, fighting each other in the confined space to stay fit. Zechs usually won, but Trowa was improving, his agility and smaller size an advantage in the cramped area. They also competed to see who could do more pushups, sit ups, even childish things like seeing who could hold their breath longer. Anything to keep their minds and bodies from decaying.

Till one day…

Trowa and Zechs were sitting on the floor after the latest competition when the door burst open and two soldiers came in. They didn't look like the kind of soldier that brought food; they were burly and menacing and twice the size of Trowa. They stood on either side of the door, rifles at the ready. An officer, perhaps a lieutenant, stepped through and stood arrogantly in the doorway. He pointed at Trowa.

"You. Tristan Bland. You are being taken to interrogation. Come with us." He looked down his credit card nose sunk between to beady eyes at the rather unwashed prisoners. Trowa didn't move. He had been well thought of by enough officers to know what `interrogation' was- torture. There was no way he was going to go willingly like a lamb to slaughter. The officer rolled his eyes and gestured to the gorilla-like soldiers, who lumbered across the small floor and grabbed Trowa under the arms. They pulled him to his feet and dragged him to the door.

Zechs got to his feet gracefully and glared at the officer. "And why," he growled, "is Mr. Tristan being taken to interrogation?"

"I was not aware of being given permission to tell you," the arrogant officer replied.

"Ah, but I still out-rank you, even in prison. They haven't stripped me of rank yet. Therefore I order you. Why is he being taken to interrogation?" Zechs was not averse to pulling rank on stupid soldiers such as this one, even when confined in a tiny cell.

The lieutenant rolled his eyes again and rolled his eyes. "He's being interrogated about his treason. OZ does not just take someone's word, we must prove it."

"Stop being so noble, you arrogant little prat. What was his treason, precisely? What did he do to be locked away, on the word of one soldier?"

The lieutenant looked startled. "Well, uh, I… I don't know."

"Didn't think so. Did your superior not tell you? Or does he not know either." The officer backed slowly away from the doorway, looking more and more nervous with every word Zechs said.

"Ignore him. Bring the prisoner to the interrogation room." The officer turned on his heel and literally fled from sight, followed by the two gorillas. The door slammed shut, leaving Zechs alone in the cell. He slumped against the wall in defeat and waited for Tristan to return, if he ever did.

****

Trowa, meanwhile, jerked his arms free from the large soldiers. "I can walk myself. Allow me some dignity." He walked calmly to his fate, walled in by the two mountains of flesh on either side and led by the priggish lieutenant. The small company strode through the halls, leaving the cellblock behind and arriving all too soon at the interrogation room designated to Tristan Bland. The door opened at the touch of keys, and Trowa was shoved inside. The officer stepped more dignifiedly into the room and smirked at the boy. The door hissed shut behind him, seeming to whisper `death' to Trowa. He would not escape this unharmed.

****

An eternity later, an unconscious and battered Trowa was dragged back through the halls to his cell. The time passed had really only been two hours, but to the beaten boy and anxious prisoner, the clock could not have been going slower had it been going backwards.

The door to the cell was opened and Trowa unceremoniously dumped inside. He collapsed on the floor, eliciting a grunting laugh from the soldiers who brought him back. The arrogant lieutenant came into view, with what looked like a first aid kit in his hand. He threw the box to Zechs, where he sat against the wall opposite the door. "Clean him up. We don't want him to get sick, now do we?" He laughed, a cold, scratchy sound that was reminiscent of fingers on a chalkboard, and the door was shut once again. Zechs rose and picked Trowa up away from the door, laying him flat on the floor. He opened the small box, rummaging through it for bandages and antiseptic. Finding them, he cleaned first the cut on Trowa's temple. That was probably what had caused him to become unconscious, because OZ interrogations seldom left their subjects out of commission. Trowa had, from the looks of it, withheld information under all technology, so they had resorted to beating him the old-fashioned way.

Next, Zechs opened the boy's shirt. Repressing the sudden urge of sexual emotion at the sight of the perfectly toned chest and stomach, not at all atrophied by his imprisonment, he went to work cleaning the cuts and abrasions, swabbing antiseptic on them and then wrapping bandages around them. He thanked whatever higher being existed that Trowa was unconscious for this; otherwise he would be in a lot more pain than he was. Checking for any broken ribs, Zechs found that one of the lower right ribs had been fractured slightly. Cursing under his breath, he bound the wrappings around Trowa's chest tighter to prevent movement. He checked for broken bones in the boy's arms and found none.

Zechs finished binding Trowa's injuries on his torso, and moved lower. Starting at his ankles, Zechs checked fibula, tibia, and knee for breaks or fractures. Steeling himself, he continued up, feeling Trowa's slender thighs for any injuries to the femur. Satisfied that there were no broken bones in "Tristan's" legs, he sat back from the boy and waited for him to regain consciousness. Gazing at Trowa's bruised face, he was overcome with the knowledge that he wanted to protect the sleeping boy. From OZ, from Kushrenada, from anything that would hurt him.

Zechs brushed the tangled hair out of Trowa's face, making visible the eye that was normally hidden from view. Trowa's eyelids fluttered, a sure sign he was regaining consciousness. Quickly, before he even realized what he was doing, Zechs leaned over and touched his lips to Trowa's, kissing him gently. Trowa chose that moment to wake up from his pain-induced slumber. He felt Zechs' kiss before he opened his eyes and saw the blonde man leaning over him. And he realized, before Zechs noticed his awakening, that he didn't mind. He liked it.