Disclaimers:  I still don’t own anything.

Notes:  Yet another part of this fic.  Enjoy.

Desires and Deceptions
Part 16

Trowa watched as Heero stormed out of the room.  He sighed, then turned back to Relena, feeling no compassion for the girl
that was crying before him.  How could he feel anything but hate toward someone that had hurt Quatre so terribly . . . someone
that had nearly driven the beautiful young Arabian insane?  It was only because of a great deal of self-control that Trowa hadn’t
already killed her.

“Why did you lead Duo on?  Why pretend to be his friend rather than go after Heero directly?”  Trowa asked, having a few
questions of his own that he needed answered.

“You think I didn’t try that?  All it ever got me were death threats and him turning away and ignoring me.”  She replied, quietly.  
“I figured that he was just playing hard to get.  I saw he spent a lot of time with that little street rat, and I figured that I’d win
Heero’s affections through him.  How was I supposed to know the filthy, little gutter rat would fall for Heero in the process?”

“How did you know where Duo’s room was in Quatre’s estate?  Hilde didn’t know, so she couldn’t have inadvertently helped
your little scheme by leading you there.”  

“Those Maguanac can really be very helpful if you ask just the right way.  I just told them that I might want to check on my
friend Duo later on, make sure that he was feeling well, and one of them just showed me right where the room was.”  She
shrugged, as if it meant nothing to her that she had hurt Duo, Heero, and Hilde, not to mention Quatre.

Trowa narrowed his gaze, deciding that it was time to ask a new set of questions.  “Why did you hurt Quatre?”  He asked.

Relena looked up at him suddenly, “Why am I even talking with you?”  She asked, then turned away, taking a single step before
Trowa grabbed her arm and forcefully spun her back around to face him.

“Because, unlike Heero, I didn’t make a vow never to kill again!”  He seethed.  “You hurt Quatre, and I want to know why!”

“Fine!”  She yelled, trying to wrench her arm free of Trowa’s grip.  

However, Trowa just tightened his hold, causing her to gasp in pain.  Trowa smiled slightly, glad that he had caused her even a
fraction of the pain she had caused to Quatre.  “Tell me why!”  He said, shaking her slightly.

“I only wanted him out of the way.  I know about his empathic abilities.  I couldn’t take the chance that he’d sense something
from me and interfere.”  She said quickly, tears glistening in her eyes as he held her in an iron grip.  “Please let me go.”

“You nearly drove him insane.”  Trowa said through clenched teeth, rage making him want to tighten his grip even more and just
snap the bones in her arm.  “He couldn’t control his abilities.  He almost killed himself because of you.”

“I had no idea that the side effects would be so drastic.  If I had, I never would have given it to him.  I never wanted to hurt
Quatre, only that filthy street rat.  But now I see that you and that blonde freak are just as disgusting as Duo.”

Trowa wouldn’t stand to hear that.  No one insulted Quatre.  He drew back his hand, then slapped her harshly.  “Bitch!”  He
cursed.  “No one insults Quatre and gets away with it!”

She raised her one free hand to her face, covering the reddening hand print that was on her cheek.  Then, without warning, she
slapped him back.  Trowa didn’t flinch at the stinging sensation in his cheek.  He just stared down at her.  At least she had the
sense to flinch and cower away slightly, out of fear, her hand shaking as she slowly lowered it.

“I have no respect for you, Miss Relena, and no qualms about killing you where you stand.  So don’t push my patience!”  He
turned, pulling her with him as he left.

“Where are you taking me?”  She demanded, although her voice did waver slightly.  

“Back to the estate.  You’re going under house arrest, until we can figure out what to do with you.  I’m sure the Maguanac will
understand that you didn’t mean to hurt Quatre.”  Trowa replied, smiling at the thought that occurred to him.  Leaving the
Maguanac to watch her, she probably wouldn’t try to escape out of fear that they might hurt her.  She had hurt someone that
they considered to be family to them, even though they were not related by blood.


Wufei slowly blinked his eyes open, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.  He hadn’t even realized that he was tired, so it was
surprise to him to learn that he had fallen asleep while watching over Quatre.

He smiled as he looked down, seeing that the blonde Arabian was still sleeping, a small smile gracing his pale features.  He had
rolled over in his sleep, so now his face was pressed against Wufei’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around his body.  Wufei
didn’t mind.  On the contrary, he found their positions quite appealing.  That was one of the things that he wished to discuss
with both Trowa and Quatre.  Although, he was hesitant to bring up such personal issues with them, out of fear of what their
reactions might be, and his own damnable pride that had gotten in his way on a few previous occasions.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening.  He turned his head, just enough to see that Rasid had walked
into the room, carrying a tray in his arms.  On the tray, were a single empty cup, and a small teapot.  

“Forgive me for not knocking.”  Rasid said in a hushed tone, bowing slightly.  He stepped over to the bed, setting the tray on the
bedside table.  “I brought Master Quatre some mint tea.”  He said, gesturing to the teapot on the tray.  “Is his health recovering

Wufei glanced to Quatre once, ensuring that the blonde was still sleeping peacefully, before he answered Rasid.  “His health is
slowly recovering.  He is exhausted, his body weak, and he has very little control over his own emotions, although at least his
empathic abilities are not so out of control anymore.”

“That is good.”  Rasid replied, the barest hint of a smile on his face.  “I see that his need for physical contact to soothe his spirit
still remains.”

“Yes, but I do not mind.  He is my friend.”  Wufei replied, clearing his throat as he loosened his hold around the blonde’s body

“No need for explanations, sir.”  Rasid replied, smirking.

Wufei would have responded, although he was unsure of just what he would have said, but he was interrupted by the movement
of the body beside him.  Quatre groaned, his eyes slowly opening as he awakened.  Wufei removed his arms from around him,
just leaving his one hand to rest on Quatre’s side.  

Quatre looked up at him, then down at their bodies.  Noticing that they were so close, he blushed, then rolled over onto his back,
successfully moving away from Wufei, while also avoiding eye contact.  Wufei took that as a sign that Quatre was embarrassed,
and so he climbed out of the bed, slipping his shoes back on.  He did not want to cause Quatre any further embarrassment.

“It is good to see you awake, Master Quatre.”  Rasid said.

Quatre turned, then smiled at the older man, a blush remaining on his cheeks.  “It is good to see you too, Rasid.”

“Master Quatre . . .”  Rasid paused, clearing his throat as if reluctant to continue.  “We were informed that your bedding
suffered from your recent health problems.  We decided to change it, but we need some time.  Perhaps a warm bath will help to
soothe your nerves further.”

Quatre’s blush deepened and he looked down in shame.  “Yes, I suppose that the bedding must be replaced.”  He whispered, his
voice laced with self-loathing.  “But I am afraid that I cannot even stand, let alone walk all the way to the bathroom.”

Wufei pulled the blankets away from Quatre, then lifted him into his arms.  “I will assist you.”  He said quietly, not waiting to
hear Quatre’s arguments, or any comments Rasid might have made.  

Once inside the bathroom, Wufei kicked the door shut with his foot.  It was still damaged due to Trowa kicking it in, but it
closed enough to offer Quatre and Wufei some privacy.  He set Quatre down on the edge of the bathtub, watching for a moment
to make sure the young blonde wouldn’t fall over, before turning his attention to getting the items he would need in a few
moments . . . shampoo, soap, washcloths, towels.  He set everything within easy reach.  Then he rolled up his sleeves and
returned to Quatre’s side, only to see the Arabian looking down at his hands which lay tightly clasped on his lap.

“Is something wrong?”  Wufei asked, concerned.

“I . . . uh . . . I have to go to the bathroom.”  He whispered.

Wufei nodded, understanding completely.  He helped Quatre to his feet then over to the toilet.  “Standing or sitting?”  He asked,
trying not to be too blunt.

Quatre closed his eyes, his body tensing for a moment.  “Standing.”  He said, his voice barely audible.  This must be horrible for
him, Wufei thought, to feel so helpless, and frustrating to not be able to do such simple things that most people take for granted.

Wufei nodded, bending slightly to lift the lid of the toilet.  He turned his head away, averting his gaze in the hopes that it would
make Quatre feel less embarrassed.  It wasn’t as if Quatre needed more from him than to hold him up, to keep him standing.  
When the blonde was finished, Wufei reached over and flushed, then took Quatre back over to the bathtub.

He helped the blonde to sit on the edge of the tub again.  Then he turned on the water, checking to make sure it was warm
enough before he plugged the drain.  Wufei knelt before Quatre and began undoing the buttons on his pajamas.  Every now and
then he would glance up into Quatre’s face, only to see that the blonde had turned away from him.  His eyes were closed, his
brow furrowed slightly, his lovely face blushing.

“Is something troubling you, Winner?”  Wufei asked, slipping the pajama top down Quatre’s shoulders, then completely off of
his body.  He dropped it on the floor, not really caring where it ended up.

“I just feel foolish, needing to be taken care of like a child.”  Quatre answered, not turning his attention to Wufei.

Wufei gently grasped Quatre’s chin, slowly turning the blonde to face him.  “Winner, look at me.”  He said, waiting patiently
until the young Arabian opened his eyes and looked down at him.  “Winner . . . Quatre . . . after what you’ve been through, I am
amazed that you can even keep your eyes open for longer than three seconds.”

Quatre sniffled, his emotions not quite under his complete control yet, apparently.  “I-I’m sorry for being so weak, Wufei.”  He
said, tears beginning to slowly trail along his face.

“It’s only natural that you would require assistance.  Do not be so hard on yourself.”  He replied, smiling slightly to reassure the
blonde as he wiped Quatre’s tears away with his thumbs.

Quatre smiled back, but only barely, sniffling once again.  “Thank you for being so kind and understanding, Wufei.”

Wufei paused, laying a hand on Quatre’s shoulder, comfortingly.  Then he stood, helping Quatre to his feet as well.  “Now, let
us get you into this tub.”  Wufei took hold of Quatre’s hands, guiding them to lie on his shoulders.  “Just hold onto me to keep
your balance.”  He said, kneeling once again.

He quickly divested Quatre of his pajama bottoms and noticed that Trowa hadn’t put a pair of boxers on the blonde earlier.  A
faint blush crept across his cheeks, but he fought to keep it back, not wanting to make Quatre even more uncomfortable than he
already was.  He tried not to stare, and quickly got to his feet.  

As he stood, he swept Quatre into his arms, then carefully deposited the blonde into the tub of warm water.  He shut off the
flow of water, then reached over and grabbed the washcloths and liquid soap from where he had left them earlier.  He poured a
generous amount of soap onto one washcloth, then handed it to Quatre.  

“Here, I will take care of your back, you can wash the rest of yourself.  Unless you think you may need more help.”  Wufei said.

“No, I think I can wash myself.  But thank you.”  Quatre replied, speaking quietly.

Wufei nodded, then waited while Quatre washed his body.  He was set on washing his back as the second to last thing they did
in the tub.   The last being to wash the blonde’s hair.  “Just tell me when you are ready.”  Wufei said, sitting back on his

After a few minutes, Quatre looked over at him.  “Ready.”  He said, shyly.

Wufei moved closer, grabbing his own washcloth and pouring some soap onto it.  He dropped the soap to the floor as the
worked the washcloth into a good lather.  Then he proceeded to clean off the blonde’s back, moving his hands slowly, putting
pressure in certain areas, so that it was more of a massage than a washing.  He didn’t want Quatre to feel weak.  He wanted him
to enjoy it at least a little.

Once finished with the actual cleaning, he dropped the washcloth and added his other hand, turning it into a real massage, getting
rid of the knots in the Arabian’s muscles, the tenseness in his shoulders.  He was rewarded by Quatre’s sighs and moans, by the
way he moved into his touch.  At least Wufei knew that Quatre wasn’t feeling so sorry for himself at the moment.

A few more minutes of that and Wufei moved away from the blonde, stopping the massage completely. “How do you feel?”  He
asked, helping Quatre to rinse off.

“That felt nice.”  He sighed, “Thank you.”

“I thought you looked a little tense.”  Wufei replied, smirking.  The smirk faded as he saw the blonde’s eyes slipping closed.  
“Tired?”  He asked.

“Yeah . . . a little.”  Quatre answered.  “But I still need to wash my hair.”

“Let me.”  Wufei replied, grabbing the shampoo bottle and pouring a good amount into his own hand.  He quickly washed
Quatre’s hair, knowing that the Arabian wouldn’t be able to stay awake for much longer.  Quatre just sat there while Wufei
washed, then rinsed his hair, obviously struggling to keep his eyes open.  “There, done.”  Wufei announced.

“Thank you, Wufei.”  Quatre said, turning his tired eyes toward the Chinese youth.

Wufei unplugged the drain, then turned to get a towel.  When he looked back, he saw Quatre struggling to stand.  The Arabian
succeeded, but only for a few short moments.  As soon as he had one leg out of the tub, Quatre slipped.  Wufei stood quickly,
just in time to catch the blonde.  Since Quatre’s body was still wet, Wufei almost lost his grip, but he tightened his hold around
his body, just as Quatre grasped his shoulders tightly.

Wufei’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the position the two of them were in.  Quatre’s face was only inches from his
own, his lips just a breath away.  They were so close that Wufei could feel the heat of Quatre’s breath, the warmth of his lips.  
Wufei stared deeply into Quatre’s eyes, lost in the aquamarine depths.

Quatre gasped, breaking the moment held between them, and blushed a deep crimson, turning his gaze away.  “I-I’m s-sorry.”  
Quatre stammered, his embarrassment clearly written on his face and in the way he pushed away from Wufei, trying to get
away from him despite the fact that he needed Wufei’s help to stay standing.

Wufei continued to hold him, helping Quatre the rest of the way out of the tub then helping him over to the toilet.  He closed the
lid with his foot, then set the blonde on it.  “Are you okay?”  Wufei asked, hoping that Quatre hadn’t hurt himself.

“I’m fine.  I just banged my knee when I slipped, that’s all.”  He said quietly, keeping his eyes locked on the floor.

Wufei knelt and checked Quatre’s knee, seeing only a slight red mark.  He gently brushed his fingers over the skin, noticing that
Quatre flinched away from him.  It would bruise, but it wouldn’t be too bad.  “It is only a minor injury.  You should be okay.”  
Wufei said, as he turned to grab the towels.

He wrapped one around the blonde’s shoulders, rubbing the soft cloth vigorously over his arms for a few seconds before he let
Quatre dry himself more thoroughly.  Wufei stepped back and allowed Quatre to dry himself, giving him some control over
something.  It would be good for his morale if he could do things on his own, even little things.

“Ready?”  Wufei asked, noticing that Quatre was just sitting there, his eyes halfway closed.

Quatre nodded.

Wufei stepped forward, helping Quatre to stand.  He paused a moment, waiting while Quatre wrapped the towel around his
waist.  Wufei draped the towel he was holding around Quatre’s shoulders, not liking the way the Arabian was shivering.  Then
he wrapped his arm around the blonde’s waist, helping him to walk on his own, trying to show that he wasn’t as weak as he
assumed himself to be.

As soon as they stepped out of the bathroom, Wufei noticed that the room was empty.  The Maguanac had already finished
changing the bedding and had left.  A clean set of pajamas was set out on the freshly made bed, the blankets on the bed turned

Wufei did everything he could to make Quatre comfortable, helping him into the clean pajamas, tucking him snugly into the bed.  
He sat beside the young Arabian, brushing aside his damp bangs so that they were out of his eyes.  “Rasid brought you some
tea.  Would you like some if it is still warm?”  Wufei asked, gesturing to the tray that still rested on the bedside table.

“Yes, please.”  Quatre nodded.

Wufei smiled.  He reached over, pressing the back of his hand against the side of the teapot to see if it was still warm.  It was,
and he poured some of the tea into the cup.  He could smell the mint in the brew, although it was not too strong a scent.  Then
he reached around Quatre’s shoulders, helping him into a more upright position as he lifted the cup to his lips.  Quatre placed his
hand against Wufei’s, letting him know with gentle increases in his grip when he wanted more of the drink.

Once the cup was empty, Wufei gently laid the blonde back down, also setting the cup back on the tray.  He watched as Quatre
yawned, his eyes slowly closing shut, although he still appeared to be fighting it.  

“Why don’t you go to sleep?”

“I want to wait for Trowa.  You said that you wanted to talk with the both of us.  I want to be awake when he gets here.”  
Quatre replied, looking up at Wufei through half lidded eyes.

“I’d prefer to talk with you when you are both capable of holding a conversation.  If you are too tired, then what purpose will
my talking with you serve?”

“I suppose you’re right.”  Quatre pouted.

Wufei smiled.  “If it will ease your mind, I promise to awaken you the moment Barton walks into the room.  Now, will you

“All right.”  Quatre agreed, nodding slightly.  Then he shyly smiled up at Wufei, wringing his hands together in nervousness.  
“Will . . . will you hold me again . . . please?”

There was no way Wufei could deny the Arabian’s request, not when he obviously needed the reassurance that he was cared for
while he slept.  And only by human contact did he seem to find that reassurance.  “Of course.”  Wufei replied, quickly taking off
his shoes and lying down beside the young blonde.

Quatre’s demeanor immediately brightened and he curled his arms around Wufei’s body.  “Thank you, Wufei.”  He said,
snuggling closer to Wufei, laying his head down on his chest.

Wufei smiled, looking down at his tired friend.  The blonde was just too adorable for his own good.  Wufei sighed, embracing
the pale figure with his own arms, watching as the blonde quickly slipped into slumber.  He swept his fingers through the silky
strands of blonde hair, watching curiously as Quatre turned toward his touch, causing Wufei’s fingers to brush across his cheek

“Rest well, Quatre.”  Wufei whispered, caressing the silky, smooth skin of the Arabian’s cheek.


The room and everything in it were white.  So much white that the sunlight streaming through the barred windows was nearly
blinding as it reflected off of the various surfaces.  Too much white.  There should be other colors in places like this.  They
weren’t even supposed to be white since it wasn’t a calming color.  It should be something else, like a light blue or even a beige
color, something to ease the mind not aggravate it further.  This place should really update its image.

However, Duo wasn’t paying much attention to the colors of the wall, or anything in it.  His eyes were focused on the door,
watching, waiting for anyone to come in, hoping that they would just leave him alone and go away . . . that they would just let
him die.

He was sitting in a corner on the floor, a straightjacket binding his arms to his body, keeping him from getting away.  Pulling at
the jacket only hurt his arms, where he had cut his skin open, but Duo welcomed the pain, gladly feeling that rather than fall
asleep and risk those people coming in to touch him.  His legs throbbed in near constant in pain as he pulled them closer to his
body, huddling himself as far into the corner as he could.  A curtain of chestnut hair fell about his shoulders, hiding his eyes and
face from any that would look at him.  There were few bandages on his body, because none of the doctors could get close
enough to tend to his injuries for very long.  He usually got the upper hand, even if he was in that straightjacket, violently
attacking whoever got close enough.  No one would touch him again . . . never again.

Needles . . . that was one of the few thoughts drifting through his clouded mind.  The fact that those doctors kept approaching
him with needles terrified him, even the knowledge that he was in a hospital made him shiver in fear.  And Heero . . . this was all
his fault, everything was.  If Heero hadn’t betrayed him, hadn’t left him alone and broken his promise, Duo wouldn’t be in this
awful place.

“Lies.  You lied to me . . . broken promises.”  He mumbled, rocking himself back and forth, fighting off the weariness that
flowed throughout his entire body and soul.  He just wanted it all to end . . . the pain, the fear.  He wanted everything to end . . .
including his miserable life.

To Be Continued . . .