Disclaimers: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.
Notes: Quatre has a bad reaction to something he senses. And Heero wakes up after the intimate encounter with Duo.
Desires and Deceptions
The air was filled with insane giggling, surrounding and taunting. Dark feelings of rage and murderous intent swam through
him. Quatre tried to force it out of his mind, but the feelings encased him, took him over with their strength. He shivered,
clutching his arms about himself as the giggling grew louder, turning into maniacal laughter, until finally he snapped awake, his
body drenched in a cold sweat as he breathed in ragged gasping breaths.
The emotions continued their assault, biting at his soul. He looked around wildly, seeing that Wufei and Trowa were on either
side of him, both of them still sleeping peacefully, their arms wound around his body. It would have been comforting, if Quatre
wasn’t overwhelmed with these strange, yet familiar feelings. And then it hit him, where he had felt this before, why it seemed
so oddly familiar. This insane glee was almost exactly like what he had felt when he had been in Wing Zero.
As soon as the realization dawned on Quatre, bile arose in his throat causing him to feel incredibly ill. Roughly, he pushed both
Trowa and Wufei away from him, causing them to tip over the sides of the bed and crash to the floor. He would apologize later,
but right now he had to get to the bathroom so that he wouldn’t make a horrible mess.
He didn’t even bother to turn on the light as he dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, throwing the lid up as he leaned over.
He vomited almost immediately, almost too early. Again and again his body lurched, the emotions running wild through his body
making his stomach flip even when he had nothing left in it.
Quatre slid down to the floor, laying his heated face against the cool tiles as he cried. He pulled his knees up slightly, curling his
arms around his chest as he fought to push the unwanted emotions out of his mind. He shivered, sweat causing his pajamas to
cling to his skin, plastering his hair to his face.
Warm arms slid around Quatre’s body, pulling him up a little. Quatre opened his eyes and looked up, confused as to when the
lights had been switched on, only to see Trowa’s worried face above him. He was wrapped in Trowa’s arms, cradled against
his body although the tall young man had not lifted him completely off of the floor. Quatre could see the beginning of a bruise
forming on Trowa’s forehead, probably from when Quatre had so roughly pushed him off of the bed earlier.
Quatre reached up, lightly touching the bruise, frowning deeply. A moment later, his hand fell back, trembling as Quatre began
to cry once more. He could hear the sound of water running, knew that Wufei was by the sink. So even as tears spilled down
his cheeks, Quatre turned to watch him. Wufei walked over to him, a glass in one hand, a wet washcloth in the other. He knelt
beside Quatre. Gently, he began to dab at Quatre’s forehead with the cool cloth.
“Are you okay?” Trowa asked, one of his hands curling around Quatre’s trembling hand. “What happened?”
Before Quatre could answer, Wufei raised the glass of water to his lips. “Here, drink first. Then talk.” Wufei whispered,
Trowa holding Quatre upright while Wufei tipped the glass for him to sip at it.
The water was cold and refreshing, a welcome relief to his aching throat. He drank all of the cool liquid, taking a moment to
breathe once Wufei had pulled the empty glass away from his mouth. “Something’s wrong . . . Relena . . . I think I sensed
something from her. An insane happiness . . . there was darkness . . . rage. I could feel her insanity in me . . . all her
murderous feelings . . . it was like how I felt when I first used Wing Zero, when I destroyed that colony.”
Quatre stomach began doing somersaults again and he covered his mouth with his hand. Trowa and Wufei seemed to get the
idea of what was about to happen and helped Quatre to a kneeling position in front of the toilet. Quatre vomited again, thankful
that Wufei had given him that glass of water or else it would have been so much worse. When the dry heaves stopped this time,
he weakly reached up and flushed the toilet, allowing his body to fall back into Trowa’s arms.
He looked up at Trowa, shivering even when Trowa’s warm arms embraced him. “I’m tired.” He whispered with a hoarse
Trowa nodded, hooking his arms under Quatre’s legs and rising. He carried Quatre from the bathroom, striding over to the bed
where he laid Quatre down. Wufei followed a few moments later, carrying another glass of water along with that damp
washcloth. He crawled up onto the bed on Quatre’s other side, kneeling beside him.
Trowa lifted Quatre to a sitting position again, helping Wufei to get some fluids into his weary body. Quatre merely drank what
he was given, too tired to argue about it. When the glass was empty, it was set aside. Quatre was set back down, and once
again Wufei began to gently dab of Quatre’s feverish face.
“Are you sure it was Relena that you sensed?” Trowa asked, his long, slender fingers curling through Quatre’s short hair, idly
stroking the side of his head.
Quatre nodded, forcing his eyes to remain open. “But it doesn’t make sense. How can she be so happy when she’s locked
away at the other end of the estate? Why could I sense her so strongly when before all she’d been was a weak presence at
most?” Quatre asked, bewildered as to why everything was so different now. He shook his head, not able to come to any
conclusions. “I don’t understand . . . it doesn’t make sense.”
“Hush, just get some rest . . . you’ve worn yourself out again and I would hate to have to restrict you to bed once again.”
Wufei said, setting the cool cloth over Quatre’s forehead.
Quatre looked over at him, feeling as if his heart had dropped into his stomach. He didn’t want to stay in bed . . . he liked
having his freedom. He had been sick for too long, and now he didn’t want to have to stay in bed. “Please . . . please don’t
make me stay in bed. I’ll rest as much as you want me to, but please . . . I don’t want to stay here all the time.”
Wufei smiled gently, letting his nimble fingers brush the edge of Quatre’s pale face. “Don’t worry. You just get some sleep . . .
it is almost dawn. I won’t force you to stay in bed if I don’t think it’s necessary.”
Trowa clasped one of Quatre’s hands. “We don’t want you getting sick, love.” Trowa whispered, setting his hand against
Quatre’s cheek. “Just close your eyes and get some rest . . . in a few hours I’m sure you’ll feel better.”
Quatre nodded, smiling slightly. “Yes, I suppose a bit of rest would do me good. It was tiring pushing those emotions aside . . .
putting up that wall against her . . . I’m just so tired.”
Before Quatre could close his eyes though, a sharp knock at the door sounded through the room, startling Quatre enough to
jump slightly. Trowa rose to answer it, but the door was flung open before the tall young man was even halfway across the
room. Quatre gasped, watching as Abdul stumbled into the room, blood covering nearly half of his face.
Trowa reached Abdul just in time to have the older man collapse into his arms. Quatre pushed Wufei away from him, climbing
out of bed despite Wufei’s pleas for him to stay there. He reached the two of them just as Trowa was laying Abdul along the
floor, and he dropped to his knees beside him.
“Abdul . . . what happened?” Quatre asked, dreading the answer that came to his own mind.
“Relena . . . she escaped.” Abdul gasped, his eyes unfocused. “Ambushed me . . . I think with a chair. She took my gun.”
Wufei ran out of the room, telling them that he was going to get help before he left. Quatre picked up Abdul’s hand, hoping to
offer comfort to his friend. “How long ago? When did this happen?” He asked.
“I took over from Ahmad . . . it was just before lights out. Master Quatre, I am sorry . . . I should have been more cautious
with her.” Abdul replied.
“No, do not blame yourself, my friend. Relena is a devious woman.” Quatre soothed. “We’ll get her back, but first we must
tend to you.”
A number of men rushed into the room at that moment, Rasid at the head of the group. “What has happened?”
Quatre turned to the large man. “Relena escaped.” Quatre said. “Abdul is hurt . . . he might have a concussion.”
Rasid nodded, gesturing to the men behind him. Several of them stepped forward, taking Abdul from Trowa’s arms and
carefully carrying him from the room. “We'll take care of him, Master Quatre.” One of the men said before leaving.
“Should we start searching for Miss Relena?” Rasid asked.
Quatre shook his head. “No . . . I think that somehow she knows where Duo and Heero are. We have to warn them. She’ll
most likely try and kill Duo the first chance she gets.”
Trowa nodded. “I’ll call the hotel.”
Wufei reappeared, wrapping his arms around Quatre’s body and helping him up. “I’ll take care of Quatre.”
Quatre sighed, seeing that he was not going to win an argument if he started one, so he just let himself be taken back to bed.
“Rasid, call Sally . . . we might have need for her if we don’t get to Relena in time. Either she’ll hurt Duo, or Heero will kill her .
. . either way we have to get her first.”
Rasid nodded, then hastily left. Quatre sighed, laying down. Wufei laid beside him, covering him with the blankets and setting
the damp cloth over his forehead again. “Get some rest, Quatre. We’ll see to it that Relena is found.”
Quatre nodded, finding it easy to fall asleep despite the excitement that had just transpired in the bedroom. He was just so
exceedingly tired, so weary. Almost as soon as his eyes closed, he was unconscious.
Heero grimaced as he slowly opened his eyes, pain radiating throughout his backside. He shifted, nearly crying out as a burning
ache lanced up his spine. Duo had been rough with him, had hurt him although Heero was sure that it had been unintentional.
Heero hadn’t objected to the forcefulness Duo had shown last night. He had quite enjoyed it actually.
Heero sighed, realizing that Duo’s rough treatment of him might have been his way of working through his pain. And if it had
been, then Heero wouldn’t want to change that. It had been a memorable experience, pleasurable in many ways . . . Heero could
stand the pain of the morning after if it meant that Duo was happy.
Heero frowned, thinking of Duo. He turned, looking over to where Duo had been when they had fallen asleep, only to see that
there was no one there. Panic welled up in Heero’s mind as he looked around the room, noting the absence of their clothes from
last night, the way that Duo’s bed was perfectly made. No, Duo was gone, he wasn’t here.
Heero sat up, much too quickly it seemed since it brought a fresh wave of pain from his rear as he moved. He hastily looked
around again, willing himself to see something, anything that would indicate that Duo was still here, that he hadn’t left Heero
alone. But there was nothing. Perhaps if he got up and checked the drawers, or the closet, he might find Duo's clothes. But he
didn’t move . . . he was afraid of opening them, afraid of seeing the undeniable proof that Duo had indeed abandoned him.
Heero felt tears falling down his cheeks. He was alone . . . Duo had left him . . . and for that he cried. Heero wrapped his arms
around his legs, drawing them close to his chest as he buried his face in his knees. He rocked back and forth, ignoring the pain
in his body as he sobbed, the sound of the phone ringing not reaching his ears as he wept.
Duo was gone. He had left him. Heero deserved it, he had been awful to Duo before . . . he had left him. And now, Heero was
finally being punished for what he had done. He deserved this, deserved to spend the rest of his life alone, to have been used for
Duo’s pleasure last night and then abandoned in the morning. All these thoughts ran through Heero’s mind, convincing him that
he was worthless, that he had deserved to be abandoned by Duo.
So he sat there, rocking himself back and forth as he sobbed, muttering to himself that he was worthless . . . that he had
deserved to be abandoned for what he had done to Duo. He was lost in his own self-hatred, until he felt a pair of warm arms
wrap around him.
Heero jumped, startled, not having expected to be touched. He looked up, tears pouring forth when he saw Duo sitting beside
him on the bed. Heero lashed out, wrapping his arms around Duo’s body, holding onto him as tightly as he could. His mind
slowly registered the fact that Duo was clad only in a towel and that his hair was soaking wet.
“Heero?” Duo’s voice whispered, his hands running along Heero’s back soothingly. “I was in the bathroom. I didn’t expect
you to wake up so soon. It’s still rather early.”
Heero cried onto Duo’s chest, his fingers digging into the American’s skin. He didn’t ever want to let go. “No, I’m sorry . . . I
shouldn’t be so stupid. I should have thought before I panicked. I’m sorry.” He mumbled against Duo’s chest. He moved
away from Duo, gasping in pain as he bowed his head.
“Are you okay?” Duo asked, his voice sounding worried. “Did I hurt you last night?”
Heero opened his mouth, intending to say that it was well-worth it . . . but before he could utter a sound, the door to the room
was thrust open. Duo and Heero both looked up as the door slammed against the wall, banging loudly. Relena stood, framed in
the open doorway, a gun held in her steady hand.
To Be Continued . . .