Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Sugar & Whips ❯ Chapter 8

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

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Sugar and Whips
Part 8
“Master Treize!” Trowa was waiting for him at the front door when he returned from a meeting with an associate.
“What is it?” the duke asked, his voice laced with annoyance. He at least liked to change into his house suit before being bombarded with questions.
“I'm sorry, but we have a problem.” The young man swallowed nervously.
“What kind of problem?”
“Zechs is gone.”
“What?” Treize frowned. “What happened?” he wanted to know.
“I told him to set the table in the drawing room for your afternoon tea, and he asked if he could go and cut some fresh roses for decoration. I didn't see a problem with that because he has been in the garden before unsupervised. When he took too long I went to check on him and he was gone.”
“When was that?” the duke asked as he pulled off his gloves.
“About twenty-five or thirty minutes ago,” Trowa informed him, his gaze lowered to the ground. “I realize that I should have kept a closer eye on him, and I take full responsibility, Sir.”
“We will talk about that later. Right now I want you to call Heero.”
“Already done, Sir. He is on his way.”
“Excellent! Once he gets here I want the two of you go, find him and bring him back.”
Trowa inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Yes, Sir.”
“Keep me informed.”
“Of course, Sir.” The young man gave another nod as the duke started to walk away. Perhaps I made a mistake. I should not have been so lenient with him. Well, that error can be easily corrected.
#####
“Hello there; mind if I join you?”
“Milliardo!” Relena turned her head at the sound of her brother's voice, excitement clearly written across her face.
The nurse, who has been pushing Relena's wheelchair through the hospital's garden, gave the young man a smile and a friendly nod. “How nice to see you again, Mister Peacecraft.”
“Nice to see you too, Miss Lilly,” he replied politely.
“I'll leave you too then. Miss Relena, when you need me to take you back to your room, please call me.”
“Thank you, Lilly.”
As the nurse left, he stepped closer to greet his sister. He bent down to kiss her on the cheek and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I'm so glad to see you, Milliardo.”
“I'm glad to see you too, Lena. You look wonderful.”
“Well, thank you, so do you. You did something with your hair, didn't you? It looks different.”
“You can tell?” he asked surprised as he straightened up.
“Of course I can tell, there us nothing wrong with my eyes, you know.”
Milliardo laughed. “No, I suppose not. Should we go for a little walk?”
“That sounds wonderful,” she agreed. And as he turned her wheelchair on the narrow pawed path Relena continued. “So, tell me everything.”
“Tell you what?”
“You said you have started a new job. I want to know more about it. Come on, don't make me beg.”
Her brother gave another, deep bubbling laugh as he shook his head. “Sorry, Lena, but you know the rules. First you tell me what's new with you and then it's my turn.”
“You are so mean.” She put on her best pout.
“Come on tell me; what have you been up to lately?” he urged as he slowly pushed her wheelchair through the park.
“Well, let me see. A friend and I wanted to go rock climbing this weekend, but then I thought doing that again would be kind of boring.”
Her brother smiled. He was glad that she had not lost her sense of humor after everything she went through. But then, Relena had always been a strong spirited- and strong willed- person, even when they were still little kids.
“But seriously, not much happens around her. Dorothy still comes by twice a week. I really appreciate that because I love to talk to her.”
He snorted in amusement. “Argue with her you mean.”
Relena crooked her head and looked up at her brother. “We do not argue,” she pointed out. “We debate. That's very different. I do respect her points of view, even if I don't agree with them.”
“I don't get it; must be a girl's thing.”
“Maybe,” she laughed. “Last week Dorothy and I went to an art show downtown.”
“Oh, how interesting, I'd have loved to go with you.”
“Liar,” she accused lightheartedly. “You hate art shows.”
“You know me too well.” He gave a theatrical sigh.
“Milliardo can to take me back to my room. I'd like to show you a picture of mom and dad I drew a few days ago.”
“Sure thing. I can't wait to see it.” He turned the wheelchair around and headed back to the hospital wing where Relena's room as located.
“How are your therapy sessions going?” he asked.
“They are okay,” she replied. “Dr. Marcus tells me that I'm making progress but…” She left the rest of the sentence hanging in the air.
His hands tightened around the wheelchair's handlebar and his stomach clenched painfully. If it would have been possible, he would have switched places with Relena in a heartbeat. She hadn't done anything to deserve this. The accident…their parent's death…the endless surgeries and painful rehabilitation… It just wasn't fair. She should be out there with her friends having a good time, enjoying herself, finding a boyfriend…doing all the thing young girls her age should be doing. She should not be stuck here in this hospital, confined to a wheelchair. But this was her life now. After month after month of examinations and evaluations, raised and crushed hopes, he and his sister had finally come to accept that Relena most likely would never walk again. At least not in this lifetime.”
“Milliardo, are you alright? I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you.”
“It's alright. I'm the one who should be sorry.”
They had reached the lobby and he was about to call the elevator when Relena stopped him. “Wait, I can do that myself now. Let me show you.”
He stepped aside as his sister maneuvered her wheelchair closer toward the control panel. It took a few tries and all her concentration but eventually she managed to call the elevator and roll herself inside after the doors swooshed open.
“Look at you; this is wonderful.”
“Thanks.” She smiled at him. “Okay, now it's your turn. Tell me more about that new job.”
“Well, there isn't really much to tell.” He replied evasively.
“What kind of a job is it?”
“Security,” he lied.
“Security?” Relena frowned.
“Yes, some art collector hired me as a bodyguard so to speak.” He grinned wryly. “Isn't it ironic? I mean, since I don't like art.”
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. He helped her out into the hall. “It pays well, but I have to travel a lot, which means I'll probably not be able to visit you much in the near future. I'll come when I can and I'll call you as often as possible,” he assured her.
She mustered a brave smile. “That's alright, Milliardo. You have put your life on hold for me for long enough. It's selfish of me to expect you to come visit me every week.”
“Don't talk like that,” he reprimanded gently. “You are not selfish. I come because I want to see you.”
###
The elevator doors opened with a swoosh. Zechs sighed as he stepped out into the lobby. He hated himself for having lied to Relena, but it wasn't like he could tell her the truth either. Besides, the last thing he wanted was for her to have to worry about him. She had enough to deal with already as it was.
He looked up toward the exit and stopped dead in his track. He could feel the blood drain from his face as he recognized the figure leaning against the wall, just outside the wide glass door. Trowa!? What the hell? What is he doing here? How were they able to find me this quickly?
The young man didn't seem to have noticed him yet. Zechs backed slowly into the elevator and pushed the down button. He knew that there was another way out; a service entrance downstairs in the basement. He had used it a few times before, to sneak into the hospital to see his sister after visiting hours.
The elevator stopped and he stepped into the dimly lit corridor. It was a long hall with several bends and corners. What am I going to do now? If they found me here chances are that they also know my real name. And if that's the case they probably have also found out where I live.
Zechs was too preoccupied with his misery to pay close attention to his surroundings; a mistake he would quickly regret. Just as he turned around another corner in the corridor, a strong light was suddenly aimed into his face, blinded him. Instinctively he brought up his arm to shield his eyes. Warning bells went off in his brain. Zechs spun around and tried to run, but it was already too late. Something struck him in the back hard, hitting his nervous system like a bolt of lightning, paralyzing his muscles instantly. Electric stun gun! The young man realized as his mind dropped into the black oblivion of unconsciousness. He was out cold before his body ever hit the ground.
###
The phone on his desk rung just as Treize walked into his study. He crossed the room with a few large strides and picked up. “Yes?”
“Master Treize!” Trowa's voice came through the receiver. “We got him.”
“Excellent Job. Where did you catch him?” he wanted to know.
“At the hospital,” the young man explained. “We waited for him to leave so. He is still unconscious. Heero used the stun gun.”
“Where are you now?”
“On the way home. We should arrive in less than 30 minutes.”
“Great, I'll be waiting for you. Or wait, I changed my mind. Take him to the club. I'll meet you there.”
“Yes Sir, as you wish.”
“And Trowa…”
“Sir?!”
“Regarding your punishment; I've decided to overlook your mistake this time.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I think Zechs had both of us fooled. I as well thought that he could be trusted and I even was considering moving him into a different the room on Monday. Well, in any case, I'll see you at the club.”
 
#####
Milliardo woke up with a splitting headache. He was freezing and his shoulders were sore. Ever so slowly his senses started to return ad he realized that he was kneeling. He didn't wear so much as a stitch of clothing, and he was chained up with his arms spread above his head, in the middle of some kind of chamber. Two chains, that were anchored high in the walls left and right of him, were connected to shackles around his wrists. When he tried to shift his weight a metallic rattling noise indicated that he was wearing chains around his ankles as well.
What the hell? He turned his head to the side to look around. The room was cool and a little damp, probably located in some kind of basement. There were no windows and the only light came from a few dozen candles flickering on tall, wrought iron, candle sticks. A cold chill went down Zechs' spine when eyes wandered over chains and other bondage equipment. Then he thought that he heard a noise and turned his head further. But behind him the room was draped in shadow and making it impossible for him to see much of anything.
Finally his memory returned as well. He remembered his escape, visiting his sister at the hospital and seeing Trowa when he was about to leave the clinic, the bright light and then the stun gun bolt in his back.
Damn it, Zechs cursed. Someone was waiting for me down in the service corridor. It was a trap and I walked into it like a fool. Trowa wasn't careless. I saw him because he wanted to be seen. I'm such an idiot!
In a fit of frustration the young man pulled at his chains.
“Stop that!” a firm voice behind him ordered. “You are going to hurt yourself!”
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T.B.C.
 
Author's Note: