Disclaimers: I still do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.
Notes: I Forgot to mention in the last part, those two songs are “Flames” and “Touched” Both by Vast. I love them both.
Now on to Part 14. Starts with the last scene from Part 13. However, this time, it is in Heero’s perspective instead of Trowa’s.
Desires and Deceptions
Heero stared at Quatre, hoping that the blonde would be okay. Sally had just given him the injection a few minutes ago, and now
he was curled into a tight ball, the shivering in his body slowly ceasing as he breathed gasping breaths. He blinked as Quatre’s
eyes quickly snapped open.
Quatre slowly looked around the room, his eyes looking to each pilot, resting his gaze on them all for a few brief seconds,
before moving onto the next person. After he had looked to everyone, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Are you okay?” Trowa asked, his tone concerned, although his body language showed that he was hesitant to get too close to
the young blonde.
“W-where’s Duo?” Quatre asked, his voice scratchy.
Trowa glanced at Heero, then turned back to Quatre, while Heero lowered his head in shame. “We don’t know, but we’re
looking for him.”
“I’ll find him.” Quatre murmured. He rolled over so that he lay on his back. Slowly, he closed his eyes, his breathing
eventually becoming steady and even.
“Quatre . . . what are you doing?” Trowa asked, worry apparent in his tone. Heero snapped his head up, looking on with
concern for his friend. Quatre was obviously doing something dangerous if Trowa was that worried about him.
Quatre whimpered, his eyebrows furrowing, and he looked to be in pain. “Horrible . . . everything hurts . . . They hurt him.”
He mumbled, speaking to everyone and no one. “Duo . . . he’s suffering . . . alone . . . terrified.”
At the mention of Duo’s name, Heero had jumped forward. “Where is he?” Heero asked, stepping over to the bed.
“White . . . everything white. So much fear . . . needles . . . men in white . . . doctors.” Quatre gasped out. Before Heero
could say anything else, ask any more questions, Quatre’s body lurched off the bed, his back arched in an impossible curve and
he screamed, so loud that Trowa had to cover his ears. A moment later, Quatre fell back to the bed, and lay there, unmoving.
Trowa hesitantly reached out. He gently laid his fingers to Quatre’s throat. “He’ll be okay.” Trowa said, letting out a long
breath. “He’s just asleep.”
Heero sighed in relief, glad that the Arabian was only asleep. As his worry over Quatre’s health faded, Heero could only think
about Duo, and the fool he had been for just walking out on the beautiful American like that. He had broken his promise to
Duo. Who knew what lengths Duo had gone to?
By listening to Quatre, Heero knew that Duo was in a hospital somewhere, a place where he was undoubtedly terrified beyond
belief. And he was in pain. Could it be that he was hurt? Heero shuddered. The very thought that his lover was in pain
somewhere filled him with total dread.
Trowa stared down at his angel, worriedly watching every movement the blonde made. Every rise and fall of his chest, each
time he twitched in his sleep or opened his mouth to murmur unintelligible words . . . Trowa was just captivated, completely
filled with hope for Quatre’s complete recovery.
Sally stepped over and brushed a hand through Quatre’s sweat-soaked bangs. “Trowa, I think it’s safe to touch Quatre now.
Why don’t you get him cleaned up?” She suggested, smiling.
“Yes, that would be a good idea.” He stood, then looked to Heero, knowing that he wasn’t done talking with the Japanese ex-
pilot. “Heero, I don’t want you to leave the estate yet. We still have things to discuss.”
Heero nodded silently.
Sally took hold of Mariemaia’s hand. “We’ll just leave you two alone.” She said, as she and the others slowly left the room.
“Wufei . . .” Trowa said, stopping the Chinese youth before he left. “Would you mind giving me a hand?”
“Not at all.” Wufei said, bowing slightly. He stepped over to the bed, although he looked unsure of what was expected of him.
As soon as Heero and the others were gone, Trowa began unbuttoning Quatre’s shirt. He lightly touched the skin underneath
with his fingertips, frowning at how sticky it felt. “We need to get him cleaned up. He won’t be comfortable like this.” Trowa
said, moving to unfasten Quatre’s belt. After two days, the blonde was still wearing the same clothes. They hadn’t been able to
touch him, and they sure weren’t going to make Mariemaia change his clothes for him.
Wufei nodded and walked into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he came back out, carrying a basin of slightly soapy water, a
couple washcloths, and two towels draped over one of his shoulders. By the time Wufei returned, Trowa had removed almost
all of Quatre’s clothes, leaving him just in his boxers. He was peeling off the numerous bandages that covered the blonde’s
wounds, when Wufei set the basin on the bedside table.
“Wufei . . .” Trowa said, glancing at the other young man. “Would you hold Quatre for a few minutes? We might as well
change the sheets while we’re at it. Cleaning his body will do little good if we’re just going to put him back down on these
“I would be happy to hold him.” Wufei replied, bowing slightly.
Trowa smirked, then gently pushed his arms underneath Quatre’s body. As he was lifting him into his arms, Trowa watched as
Quatre’s eyes slowly opened.
“Where we goin’?” He asked tiredly, as he weakly lifted one of his hands to brush against Trowa’s cheek. A smile, although
small, remained fixed on his face, while his eyes were only slightly opened.
“Wufei’s going to hold you for a bit, love. I’m going to change the sheets, and hopefully make you a little more comfortable.”
He smiled, handing Quatre over to his friend and placing a chaste kiss to his angel’s cheek as he withdrew his arms.
“Okay.” Quatre whispered, laying his head against Wufei’s chest. “Hello, Wufei.”
Wufei smiled slightly, moving over to a chair and sitting down, his arms remaining around the precious bundle that was curled
against his body. “Greetings, Winner. Now rest, you’ll be well soon.”
“Rest . . . sounds good.” Quatre yawned, snuggling closer to Wufei’s body, his arms wrapped around Wufei in a weak
Trowa turned away from the adorable scene of his love being protectively cradled in Wufei’s arms. Just the sight of Wufei
holding Quatre was enough to cause a smile to creep across Trowa’s face. It wasn’t every day that Wufei, the Solitary Dragon,
ever let anyone see his kind side.
Once he had a clean set of sheets, he pulled the old ones off the bed, curling his nose at the stench that came off of them. Two
days and never getting up, left more problems than just sweat to deal with. He was sure the others had noticed the odor in the
room, but none of them had commented on it, probably to spare Quatre’s feelings. Trowa cleaned the mattress off quickly,
then flipped it over, deciding that it was good enough for now. Quatre would undoubtedly have it replaced later anyway. Then
he put the clean sheets on. Once done with the bed, he walked back over to Wufei and Quatre.
Trowa smiled down at Quatre’s sleeping form, brushing a hand through his lover’s dampened bangs. In response, Quatre
turned toward his hand, his lips curling into a slight smile as he murmured some intelligible word. Trowa bent slightly and took
Quatre from Wufei’s arms, moving slowly so that he wouldn’t awaken the beautiful angel as he set him down on the bed.
“Hand me one of those towels, please.” Trowa said, holding out one hand.
Wufei quickly obliged, just watching while Trowa laid the towel across Quatre’s mid-section, so that it covered everything
between his waist and thighs. Then, Trowa reached underneath and removed the last of Quatre’s clothing, his boxers. With the
towel, at least Quatre would keep some form of covering and might not feel so embarrassed when he awakened.
“Perhaps we should start with his back.” Wufei suggested, walking around to the other side of the bed. He climbed up, and
moved over beside Quatre. Then he gently pulled the blonde into his arms and lifted him to an upright position, keeping Quatre’s
head resting against his shoulder.
While Wufei held Quatre up, Trowa dampened one of the washcloths, ringing out the excess moisture to keep it just damp. He
then began to wash the two days worth of sweat from Quatre’s pale body. Once Trowa was done washing his back, Wufei
carefully laid the blonde back down.
Wufei crawled back off the bed, and walked around to stand beside Trowa. He took the other washcloth, wetting it, then helped
Trowa in the task of cleaning Quatre. Trowa decided to clean the lower half of his love’s body, thinking that it would probably
spare both Quatre and Wufei a good deal of embarrassment.
While Trowa cautiously cleaned Quatre’s legs, being careful with his wounds, Wufei was busy with one of Quatre’s arms. He
paused as he reached the wrist, looking down in concern at the cut in the pale skin. Trowa noticed Wufei’s hesitation to
continue, and stopped.
“He tried to kill himself.” Trowa said.
“I did not question about this.” Wufei remarked, gesturing to the cut before resuming his cleaning of the rest of that arm and
“I know. But I saw your concern.” Trowa replied. He took in a deep breath, then let it out before continuing. “Sally was
taking a long time getting back. I was anxious and I left Quatre alone in the room. He was asleep when I left, and I didn’t think
I would be gone very long. When Sally showed up with Mariemaia and we all walked into the room, Quatre was gone. We
found him in the bathroom, holding a razorblade. The pain was too much for him . . . He said he wanted to make it stop. Then
he apologized and collapsed to the floor.”
“He must have been suffering a great deal to go to those lengths.” Wufei said, not raising his eyes to look at Trowa.
“It’s my fault. I never should have left him alone in the room. If I had taken a few more moments, I would have been too late
to stop him.” Trowa replied, a solitary tear trailing along his cheek.
“Do not blame yourself. You could not have predicted what Quatre would do in that state. You did say that you thought he was
asleep. How could you have known that he would awaken?” Wufei sighed, resting a comforting hand on Trowa's shoulder.
“Would Winner want you to blame yourself for something you could not have predicted?”
Trowa shook his head. “No.” He sighed, brushing the errant tear from his face.
“Then don’t. Just be happy that he is here and recovering. Do not dwell in the past when you cannot change it.”
Trowa nodded, and picked up his washcloth again, looking at the face of his angel for a moment before he went back to
cleaning Quatre’s body.
Several minutes later they were done. Wufei took the basin, washcloths, and the one towel back into the bathroom, leaving the
one that covered Quatre’s body where it was. Meanwhile, Trowa walked over to one of the dressers and pulled open a drawer.
He grabbed a pair of pale blue pajamas and closed the drawer, returning to Quatre’s side. He didn’t bother getting underwear,
the pajamas would be enough for now.
He glanced at his watch before getting Quatre into the clean clothes, frowning when he saw how long it had taken to get the
blonde cleaned. He hoped that Heero wasn’t going crazy with impatience, waiting for him to come out.
Heero paced nervously outside the door. He was agitated, and impatient. He had questions for Trowa, but he had to wait for
the other youth to finish with Quatre. There was no way he would interrupt Trowa when he was caring for his lover.
He groaned in frustration as he looked to his watch, not able to help wondering how long Trowa and Wufei would take in there.
“Would you calm down already!” Sally snapped.
Heero stopped pacing for a moment, his eyes settling on Sally, and then Mariemaia for a few seconds each. Then he turned and
started pacing again, ignoring Sally and her muttering about how he was too impatient for his own good.
After a few more minutes, the bedroom door finally opened. Wufei walked out first, followed closely by Trowa, who shut the
door behind himself. Heero stepped over to them, trying to keep his expression neutral, although he was quite agitated. “How’s
“He’s sleeping now.” Trowa sighed, glancing briefly to the door before settling his gaze on Heero. “Who would do that to
“The same person who did it to Duo most likely.” Heero responded. “Can you think of anyone who had the chance to do it?
Anything in common? Did they eat anything or drink anything?”
“Duo wasn’t eating at the party. He spent practically all of his time watching the door for any sign of you.” Trowa said.
Heero winced, hearing that Duo hadn’t had any fun at the party that night.
“It’s a fact.” Trowa continued, apparently noticing Heero’s reaction. “He had a few drinks. But it wasn’t until Hilde walked
over to him that he showed any sign that he was enjoying himself.”
“Is it possible that Hilde had something to do with this?” Wufei questioned.
Trowa shook his head. “No, I spoke to her the day after the party. I was looking for Duo in his room, when she walked in.
She was quite upset. I don’t think she had anything to do with this.”
Heero nodded. “Yes, I have to agree with you there. Hilde has always been a close friend to Duo. She wouldn’t betray him like
that on purpose.” Although Heero had found the two of them in a very compromising position, he now realized as he looked
back on past meetings with the girl, that she would do anything to help Duo, and not hurt him.
“You said that Duo had a few drinks? Do you think someone slipped the drug in before giving it to him?” Sally asked.
“He got all of his drinks himself. Except for the one that Relena brought to him. I saw from across the room, the three of them
talking before Duo dragged Hilde onto the dance floor.” Trowa stated.
“Relena?” Heero gasped, the pieces slowly falling into place.
Trowa’s eyes widened, as he apparently came to the same conclusion as Heero had. “Yeah! And she intercepted me when I
was on my way to the drink table to get something for Quatre. She handed me two drinks, one for me, and one non-alcoholic
one for Quatre.”
“And she was there . . . as if she were waiting for me.” He muttered, remembering the night of the party and how Relena had
oh so conveniently been stranded outside the estate with a broken-down car. “That BITCH!” He shouted.
“Heero?” Sally said, trying to gain his attention.
However, Heero had already begun pacing again. “I can’t believe I fell for it. All this time, all the help . . . It’s all been some
elaborate scheme of hers.”
“Do you really believe that Relena had something to do with all of this?” Sally asked.
“Absolutely. For a while now . . . since Duo got sick . . . I’ve thought that her behavior seemed odd. Now I see why. All this
time, she’s just been acting out some twisted scheme.” Heero replied, rage filling him completely, aimed toward Relena and
what she had done.
“What do you plan on doing now?” Wufei questioned.
“Confront her.” Heero answered simply.
“I’m going with you.” Trowa announced, stepping forward. Then he stopped and turned to face Wufei. “Please, watch over
Quatre while I am gone.”
“Of course.” Wufei responded, bowing slightly.
“Let’s go.” Heero said, turning and quickly leaving. He didn’t care who followed him. He just wanted to get this confrontation
over with and find Duo as quickly as possible. He had to make things right again, to apologize for the fool he had been, and
hope that Duo would one day forgive him for his idiocy.
The phone rang and Relena answered it. She had given most of the servants the day off, and Pagan was off doing some chore
in the house that kept him busy, so she had to answer the phone herself today. Relena kept a pleasant smile gracing her face
even though the person she saw on the video screen was unfamiliar to her. “Hello, how may I help you?”
“Miss Relena Dorlian?” The strange middle-aged woman asked. Relena could hear doctors being paged in the background, and
the woman’s white uniform alluded to the fact that she was a nurse.
“Yes, I am Relena Dorlian.” Relena replied.
“I am from Khushrenada Memorial Hospital . . . calling in regards to a young man in our care. Your name and this phone
number were found among his belongings . . . although no forms of identification were discovered. He appears to have been
beaten and robbed and his condition is very serious.” The woman said, her face set in a grim expression. “We were hoping you
could shed some light on his identity.”
“Oh my!” Relena exclaimed, feigning worry. She had a suspicion as to who this woman was talking about. “I’ll do anything I
can to be of service. I would hate to discover that one of my friends or family has been hurt. Do you need me to come down
and identify him in person?”
“No, that is not necessary. We also discovered a photo of him and of another young man in his bag. If you don’t know him, I
would regret putting you through an unnecessary amount of stress and worry in coming all the way down here.” The nurse
said. She held a picture up to the video screen. “The young man in question is the one with the long hair . . . on the right.
Unfortunately, coming down here would do little good, the bruises to his face and body have made it difficult to distinguish what
he looks like. If not for the hair, we wouldn’t have been sure which young man he is. He is also quite violent at the moment, so
if you don’t know him, you could upset him further and he might hurt either you or himself.”
Relena gazed at the picture. It was a photo of Duo and Heero. Duo was smiling, his usual manic grin and Heero was smirking
slightly. Heero seemed so handsome in that picture, despite the fact that he was beside Duo. And that long-haired idiot was just
hanging all over him, obviously to Heero’s dismay. Relena knew that if Duo hadn’t corrupted her beloved Heero with his
insanity, Heero would be happy with her.
The nurse’s voice snapped Relena from her daydreams. “Do you know this young man . . . either of them?” She took the
picture away from the screen.
“No, I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize either of them. I don’t know how or where he got my name and phone number.” Relena
replied, able to keep a straight face although she felt like laughing out loud. It was just too perfect. Duo was in the hospital,
dying for all she knew. There would be no more interference from that loudmouthed American. Heero would be hers . . .
To Be Continued . . .