Disclaimers:  I still don’t own anything.

Notes:  Part 12.  No real notes.  Lots more Duo suffering.  Not as much Quatre suffering.  Some Trowa and Heero torment
though.  A worried Wufei.

Desires and Deceptions
Part 12

Heero slammed the door behind himself, his eyes glistening with unshed and unwanted tears.  He couldn’t believe that Duo
would sleep with Hilde.  He thought Duo had loved him.  Obviously he had been mistaken.  

He stalked through the hallways of Quatre’s estate, just wanting to get away.  Soon, he found himself standing outside, the chill
night air bringing goose bumps to his uncovered skin.  He hadn’t taken a jacket with him when he had left yesterday, hadn't
thought to.  At the time he had thought he would be away only a few hours, not over a day.  And he definitely hadn’t expected
to see what he had just seen moments ago.  Duo and Hilde in bed, their bodies still connected in a most intimate way.

He slumped back against the nearest wall, wrapping his arms around himself as he slid to the ground.  It was a mistake letting
Duo into his heart, to open himself to emotions again.  Now he couldn’t stop the pain, the unbearable ache that clutched at his
soul.  His throat constricted as the tears escaped his eyes, running down his cheeks to drip from his chin.

“Why, Duo?  I thought you loved me.”  Heero whimpered, trying to pull himself together.  

He should never have loved Duo, shouldn’t have opened up for the beautiful American.  It had been a mistake, a terrible
mistake.  And now he was paying for his error . . . now he saw the truth.  Duo didn’t love him, and because of that, he sobbed,
unable to stop the wracking whimpers that escaped his sore throat.

“Heero?”  A familiar voice said.

Heero forced himself to look up.  Relena was there, kneeling before him, one of her hands resting on his shoulder.  “Relena?  I
thought you left.”  He whispered, unsuccessfully trying to stop the tremors that had begun going through his body.

“My car wouldn’t start.  Pagan is trying to find out what’s wrong with it.  Then I saw you sitting here, and I just have to know
what’s wrong.”  She replied, her voice full of concern.

“Duo . . .”  Heero said, gulping in as much air as he could, not sure why he was telling her about this. “I found him in bed . . .
with a girl.”

“Oh my God . . . Heero, I am so sorry.”  She replied, gently pulling him into an embrace.

Heero slowly returned the embrace, not wanting to feel alone.  He cried onto her shoulder, pulling her tight against himself as he
sobbed.  The sorrow over Duo’s betrayal stabbing him like a knife in his chest.  Duo had gotten him to express his emotions,
and now Heero was paying for it with the pain of this heartbreak.

“Heero . . .”  She whispered, gently stroking one of her hands through his hair.  “Why don’t you stay with me . . . at least until
you decide what you want to do next?”

Heero just nodded, unable to form any words.  Perhaps a few days away from this estate would give him time to think, to
decide what he wanted to do.  Did he want to talk with Duo, to attempt and work things out if the American did love him?  Or
was he willing just to move on without him?

Relena helped him to his feet, and escorted him over to her car.  She sat beside him, keeping her arm around his waist as he laid
his head against her shoulder, not wanting to feel empty.  This was all Duo’s fault.  If it weren’t for him, Heero wouldn’t need
such stupid reassurances, wouldn’t need Relena to help him through this.  If it hadn’t been for Duo, none of this would have
happened, and Heero would still be happy, hiding his emotions beneath his soldier’s mask, but happy.  Soon he drifted off to
sleep, resting against Relena, visions of a long-haired, cobalt-eyed, beauty dancing through his mind.


Duo stared down at the floor.  He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, didn’t really care either.  Heero was gone,
gone forever most likely.  And who could blame him after what Duo had done.  He had been caught in bed with Hilde.  Although
Duo didn’t quite remember what had happened, it was plainly obvious that something had gone on between the two of them.

“You promised.”  Duo murmured to no one in particular, although in his mind he spoke to Heero, to the man he had betrayed,
the man who had betrayed him in return.  “You promised you wouldn’t leave me.”

He cried, knowing that he had been the one that had done the wrong thing.  But Heero had promised him, he had promised never
to leave him.  Duo couldn’t believe that Heero would just leave like that, without trying to work it out, without giving Duo a
second chance or at least a chance to explain.  Duo had no explanation to give, but that didn’t change the fact that Heero had
just left him, not bothering to wait for anything Duo could say.

Duo threw his head back, “You PROMISED ME!”  He screamed, then broke down in a fit of heart wrenching sobs.

For the first time, he realized that his hair was down, out of its usual braid.  It brushed across his back, tickling his skin.  He
pushed himself to his feet, tears still running along his cheeks as he dropped the sheet to the floor.  What did it matter if anyone
saw him without clothes?  Heero was gone, nothing was left for him anymore, not even his dignity.

Duo cried as he got dressed, not looking at what he was pulling onto his body.  He cried as he brushed and braided his hair, not
caring that a few strands still hung free.  He just couldn’t stop crying.  His throat was sore as he choked on his sobs, his eyes
burning because of all the tears he had shed.

When no more tears would fall from his eyes, he stumbled over to the closet and pulled out a black backpack.  As quickly as he
could, his body and soul aching him, he began tossing his clothes and other belongings into the bag.  He was going to leave.  
There was nothing left for him here.  Heero wouldn’t want to see him again, so he might as well leave before he got back, if he
came back.

Duo grabbed his black cap and put it on, glancing around the room to see if he had missed anything.  Certain that everything he
owned was in that little bag, he zipped it closed.  Then he slung the bag over one shoulder.

As he crossed the room, he paused at one of the dressers, staring at the mirror that hung on the wall above it.  He wiped his
hand across his face, wiping away the remainder of his tears.  He still looked horrible, his eyes red and puffy from all of that
crying, his skin pale.  He pulled his cap down, lowering the brim to cover as much of his face as he could and still be able to
see.  Then he left, keeping his gaze focused on the floor in front of him so that no one would be able to see his face as he left
the estate.

No one would miss him.  Things were better this way.  If he just left without causing a scene, no one else would have to suffer
because of him.  Quatre wouldn’t have to sense his emotions and get sick because of them.  Heero would never have to see his
face again.  A whimper escaped his throat as he thought of his lover.  Heero had promised never to leave him, a promise that had
been broken.  Duo couldn’t get over that.  As much as he hated himself for betraying Heero, he couldn’t forget that Heero had
broken his promise.


Wufei took in a deep breath, his hand resting on the doorknob to Trowa and Quatre’s room.  It was late in the morning, but he
knew that he should check on his friends after what had happened last night.  From what he had heard from several of the
Maguanac, the blonde Arabian was not doing at all well.  He was having trouble with his empathic abilities.  So Wufei struggled
to push his emotions back, forcing himself to remain calm as he opened the door.  He wouldn’t contribute to his friend’s already
unhealthy state, not if he could help it.

The first thing he noticed when he stepped into the room, was that Mariemaia was standing beside Quatre’s bed, holding a damp
cloth to the blonde’s forehead.  Trowa stood by the wall, his face and body language showing that he was definitely worried
about the young man on the bed.  Wufei could see streaks along Trowa’s normally stoic face, and that in itself unnerved him.  It
was unusual to see such emotion from Trowa Barton.  It was also obvious that the young man had gotten little to no sleep.

“How is he?”  Wufei asked, stepping further into the room, and closer to the Arabian’s bed.

“Not good.”  Trowa replied, pushing himself away from the wall.  “Only Mariemaia can come into physical contact with him . .
. otherwise he’ll scream from the pain he senses.  He’s just overwhelmed, Wufei.  I don’t know how much longer he’ll be able
to hold onto his sanity.”

Almost immediately after Trowa spoke, Quatre’s eyes flew open.  He pushed the girl away from himself, the cloth falling off of
his forehead as he rolled onto his side and pulled his knees to his chest, whimpering.  “Stop it.”  He whispered, tears dripping
from his eyes.  “Please, make them stop.”  He moved his hands to his ears, covering them as tightly as he could, his nails
digging into his scalp.

Mariemaia gripped one of his hands, gently pulling it away from his ear.  For the first time, Wufei noticed the bandage wrapped
around Quatre’s wrist.  Obviously, something had happened, but Wufei wouldn’t ask about it now, not when there were already
enough bad emotions surrounding and hurting the blonde.

“Don’t . . . You’ll just hurt yourself.”  Mariemaia said, tenderly holding his hand in one of hers.  With her free hand, she picked
up the cloth, and dabbed at the sweat soaking his pale face.

Quatre smiled for a brief moment, then once again began whimpering, tightening his hold on the girl’s hand.  “It hurts.”  He
sobbed, his body trembling violently.

Wufei turned his attention back to Trowa.  The tall youth was standing there, his eyes never looking away from Quatre.  “Are
you okay?”  Wufei asked him.

“Fine.”  Trowa replied.

“You are obviously lying.  I can see that you are not fine.”  Wufei replied.

Trowa hung his head in shame.  “I can’t help him.”  He murmured.  “I can’t even comfort him when he needs me most.”

Wufei laid a hand on Trowa’s shoulder.  “He understands why you cannot.  Do not beat yourself up about this.”  He glanced at
his watch, seeing that it was well after ten in the morning.  “Why don’t you go see if Maxwell has woken up yet?  He should be
told how Winner is doing.”

Trowa snapped his eyes up, looking into Wufei’s.  “Oh, God, I forgot about Duo.  He was here last night . . . I forgot.  He’s
probably so worried about Quatre.”

“Then I think you should inform him of Winner’s health.”  Wufei replied.

“But . . . Quatre . . .”  He hesitated, glancing over at the blonde on the bed.

“Winner will be fine.  I will stay here and watch over him.”  Wufei replied.

Trowa nodded, then slowly made his way out of the room.  He stopped at the door, looking back one last time at the bed and the
youth that was laying upon it.  Then he turned and left, closing the door behind himself.


Trowa hastily walked through the hallways, wanting to tell Duo about Quatre’s health and get back to Quatre’s side as quickly
as possible.  Once he reached the door to Duo and Heero’s bedroom door, he swept his hand over his face, wiping what
remained of his tears away.  No need for Duo to see that he had been crying.

He knocked on the door, and silently waited for a reply, shifting his weight from foot to foot, impatiently.  When he got no
reply, he knocked again.  And again, there was no reply.  He must still be asleep, Trowa thought.

Slowly, he opened the door, peering into the room.  A wave of confusion crossed his mind as he saw the state the room was in,
blankets on the floor, some female garments lying by the bed.  He stepped further into the room, wondering what the heck had
happened here.  Then he saw it, several of the drawers hanging open.

Trowa rushed over and grabbed one of the drawers, gazing worriedly at the inside of it.  Empty, it was totally empty.  But
why?  This was where Duo kept his clothes.  Had he left?

Quickly, he went over to where Heero’s clothes were kept and pulled the drawer open.  It was full, no sign that anything was
missing.  What was going on here?  Why would Duo leave, and not Heero?  The questions just continued going around in his
head, and Trowa couldn’t come up with a single explanation.

“He’s gone?”  A timid voice broke in, startling Trowa slightly.  He spun, to see Hilde standing in the doorway, a folded sheet
carried in one of her hands.

“What’s going on here?  Where’s Duo?  Why’d he leave?”  Trowa asked, hoping that Hilde had the answers to these questions.  
She and Duo were good friends, so perhaps she knew.

Hilde lowered her gaze, just staring down at the ground.  She stepped further into the room, and dropped the sheet onto the
dresser as she walked past Trowa and over to the bed.  She knelt down, picking up what looked like a bra from the floor.  “I
just came to get what I left, and to bring back the sheet.”  She mumbled.

Trowa stalked over to her, and pulled her to her feet.  She did know something, he was sure of it.  “What’s going on?”  He

Tears dripped from her eyes, and Trowa removed his hands from her, taking a step back.  He hadn’t meant to make her cry.  
“Last night . . . I must’ve had too much to drink.  But I don’t remember drinking that much.  I passed out, and when I woke
up, Duo and I . . . we were in bed.  And then Heero walked in, and I left.  I don’t know what happened.”  She said, sobbing as
she sank to the floor.  “I would never hurt Duo, not on purpose . . . the look on Heero’s face last night.  I know they must have

“And now Duo’s gone.”  Trowa replied.  He shook his head, knowing that something felt wrong about this.  “That just doesn’t
make sense.”

“Wha?  What do you mean?”  She asked, sniffling as she wiped her hand across her nose.

“You don’t understand . . .”  He sighed.  “I SAW Duo last night at about eight thirty, and he was in NO condition to do much
more than walking, and he honestly didn’t look strong enough to do much of that.  Plus I would have heard you and Duo since I
was up all night worrying about Quatre.  Our bedrooms really aren’t that far apart.”

“But Heero FOUND us in bed together, in a very . . . compromising position.  How did that happen, if Duo and I didn’t  . . . ?”

Trowa shook his head, frowning.  “Something stinks around here . . . all these pieces and they don’t fit together.  I don’t like
it.”  He looked at Hilde.  “Do you have any idea where Heero is, or where Duo might have gone to?”

“No, I don’t know where either of them are.”  Hilde replied.

Trowa sighed.  He had to find Duo and Heero, had to get them to talk.  Something seemed off about this entire situation.  It just
didn’t add up.


Duo shivered as he walked along the street.  The jacket he wore was not helping with the cold one little bit.  The cool night air
fiercely nipped at his exposed flesh, chilling him to the very bone.  He could get sick again, but that didn’t matter.  Nothing

He just walked, not looking up as he strolled along the street.  Several people cursed at him, muttering when he bumped into
them as he walked, but he didn’t care, didn’t even look up or offer an apology to any of them.  He didn’t even know where he
was anymore.  It had been so long since he had looked up to view his surroundings.

His mind was going in circles.  Never once did Heero leave his thoughts.  How could he break his promise?  Why couldn't he
have just stayed, even if only to yell, and curse Duo for what he had done?  A choked whimper escaped Duo's mouth before he
bit down on his lip, keeping any other cries from getting out.

Finally Duo stopped walking, but not until he had bumped into something.  He looked up, only to see a brick wall in front of
him.  Glancing around, he saw that he was in an alley.  He was so deep in depression, so caught up in his own problems, that he
hadn’t even noticed turning to walk down this alley, or to notice the wall he had just walked into.

“Hey, having trouble walking?”  A strange voice called out.

Duo kept his gaze down, then began walking out of the alley.  He had no interest in starting a conversation with anyone.

“Going somewhere?”  Another voice taunted, and suddenly his cap was stolen from him.

There was a slow wolf whistle from somewhere.  “A pretty boy, huh?”

Duo’s heart began pounding in his chest.  Three people now . . . How many others were surrounding him?  He had to get away,
before something happened here, before he either regretted his own actions, or was hurt himself.  He stepped away, moving in a
direction that none of the voices, he had heard so far, had come from.

A hand gripped his arm roughly, pulling him backwards.  Duo lost his balance, his foot slipping out from underneath him on
some slick surface, and he fell, landing on his backside.  He grunted as pain tore up his body.  But it quickly lessened to nothing
more than a dull ache.

“Going somewhere, pretty boy?”  A fourth voice chimed in.

“Leave me alone.”  Duo muttered, trying to push himself back to his feet.

However, these four men had other ideas.  A hand seized Duo’s braid, yanking back on it roughly, hard enough to pry a cry of
pain from Duo’s throat.  More hands gripped him, these ones holding back his arms, another set gripping his ankles, forcing him
to remain on the ground.

Duo writhed, bucking his body in an attempt to throw some of these men off of him.  But they were strong, and he was
outnumbered.  However, that did not mean he would give up.  “Get the FUCK off of me!”  Duo shouted.

“But then we wouldn’t have any fun.”  One of the men snickered.  Duo looked up, for the first time looking at any of the men.  
The man before him, was tall, his body lean but well-muscled, as he assumed the others to also be.  He had short red hair, his
close-set eyes glimmering like emeralds.  He reached out, brushing a slender callused finger along one of Duo's cheeks.  “Such
pretty eyes.”

Duo spit in his face.  “Fuck off!”  Once again he squirmed, trying to get away, never taking his eyes off of the man in front of
him, the only one he could really see.

A hand collided with his face, forcing his head to jerk to one side.  His cheek burned, the force of the blow causing white
specks to blur his vision for a moment.  Before he could retaliate, or even think about what was happening, a number of other
strikes came to his body, punches to his abdomen, kicks to his legs, arms, and chest.  His face was a target many times, his left
eye getting hit more times than the right, his lips and nose getting a number of hits too.

He would have tried to block them, but his arms were pinned behind him, his legs held down.  He could do nothing but sit there
as he was assaulted, as his body was turned into a mass of pain.  The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, beginning to
dribble between his lips, which leaked blood of their own from a number of small cuts.

Eventually, the blows to his body stopped, and he thought the worst was over.  But that wasn’t the case.  Duo was on the edge
of unconsciousness, willing to let himself fall into a dreamless sleep to escape the pain they had delivered to him.  However, his
eyes snapped painfully open when he heard the sound of clothing being torn apart.  He watched in horror, as his clothing was
ripped from his body.

Duo opened his mouth, ready to scream for help.  Before a sound could leave his throat, a hand clamped over his mouth, stifling
any sound he could have made.  He struggled again, as painful as it was, knowing that he couldn’t let this happen.  No, he
wouldn’t be assaulted like this again.  He wasn’t a kid anymore.  He wasn’t helpless.  He had to do something.  

He shivered at the sounds of zippers being undone, at the knowledge of what was about to happen.  The hands let go of his
ankles, and once more he struggled to break free, kicking with as much force as he could.  But then his body was lifted, and he
was flipped over, only to be dropped roughly to the ground, his arms still held firmly by two different men.  However, instead of
being behind his back, they were held out, stretching away from his body.

Hands gripped his hips, hard enough to leave deep bruises, and forced him to his knees, the rough pavement tearing open his
skin.  Only moments later, he screamed into the hand covering his mouth, the pain tearing him apart as he was forced into.  He
felt himself being pushed and pulled away from the man behind him, his body being forcefully used for another man’s pleasure,
the pain rising until finally his eyes rolled back into his head, thankfully slipping into unconsciousness.

To Be Continued . . .