Disclaimers:  I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.

Notes:  Quatre chats with Duo and Wufei.  Mueller finds himself in a tense situation.



Untamed Spirit



Part Eight


Trowa blinked his eyes open.  His head was throbbing and he could feel the congestion making it difficult for him to breathe
properly.  Still . . . regardless of how terrible he felt, he only had one concern drifting through his mind.  “Hey . . .”

Duo smiled brightly at him.  He was sitting in a chair by Trowa’s bedside.  The fresh hickey on his neck told Trowa that Heero
had been here not too long ago, although the other young man wasn’t here anymore.  “Hey, Trowa!  Good morning.  What’s
up?  Do you need something?”

Trowa gave Duo a wan smile in return.  “How’s Quatre?”

Duo’s smile brightened even more.  “The little blonde?  I don’t know.  I fell asleep in here last night and came here as soon as I
woke up.  Wufei said he was going to check on him though.  Why?”

Trowa frowned in confusion.  “If you fell asleep in here . . .?”

Duo laughed out loud, as if realizing what he had said for the first time.  “Heero . . . he brought me to bed last night . . .
sometime after I fell asleep in here.”

Trowa smirked.  “Heero’s bound to get jealous if you spend all of your time in here.”  Then he sighed, breaking out into a
cough.  “I’m just worried about Quatre, is all.  I’d ask to see him, but I’m sick, and he has his own troubles right now.”

Duo nodded in understanding.  “Yeah . . . just being thrust back into humanity after a lifetime living with wolves has to be
difficult.  I was tempted to do a cheering up bit, but you needed me in here.  It sucks to wake up all by yourself when you’re
sick.”  He stood up.  “Do you  want something to drink?  I think we have some tea.”

Trowa chuckled softly, only to begin coughing again.  Once he could breathe normally, he shook his head.  “I can’t stand tea,
you know that.  Maybe some coffee?  Sugar, no cream?”

Duo nodded once.  “You got it.  I’ll be back as soon as possible.”  With that, he left the room.


*****


Duo went down the stairs quickly.  When he reached the sitting room, he was brought up short by the sight in front of him.

Wufei was sitting in a chair, reading by the fire.  And Quatre, bathed and groomed, was resting on the sofa nearby to Wufei.  
They were both sipping cocoa.  What surprised him was the fact that two wolves were lying by the sofa as if they were well-
trained lap dogs.

Duo approached cautiously so as not to startle anyone.

Wufei was the one who noticed him first.  “Duo!  Come in.  As long as you don’t attack Quatre or threaten him, his pack mates
won’t attack you.”

Duo looked to the blonde for confirmation and immediately relaxed when he nodded.  “Good.”  Duo sighed, then frowned at the
downcast look on Quatre’s face.  “Hey . . . what’s wrong?”  He asked, walking over to sit on the coffee table in front of the
sofa.

Quatre’s voice was soft and full of sorrow.  “Katowa all grown now.”  The blonde sniffled.

Duo raised his eyebrows.  “What’s wrong with that?”

Quatre gave Duo a pitiful look.  “Katowa was to start school soon.  No can do now.  Lotsa birfdays missed.”  He sniffled again,
tears shimmering in his eyes.  “I want Mama, but Mama gone!”

Duo felt a pang of sympathy for the blonde.  “Hey . . . I know.  I miss my mother, too.  Look . . . as soon as we can, we’ll call
your father and he can come get you, okay?”

Quatre sniffled and gave Duo a hopeful look.  “Papa?  Papa okay?  Papa want Katowa?  What if he no know Katowa no
more?!”  He hiccuped.  “Katowa look so different!”

Wufei shook his head and walked over to grasp Quatre’s shoulder.  “He’ll know you.  You look so much like your mother.  And
he will want you.  He’s missed you very much and has never stopped looking for you.  Seeing you alive will make him very
happy.”

Duo nodded.  “Yeah!  And about the birthdays you’ve missed . . . we’ll throw you a big party to make up for them with ballons
and streamers and cake and . . .”

“Ice cweam?”  Quatre asked, beaming at the very thought.

Duo smiled warmly at the little blonde.  “All the ice cream you can stomach, in any flavor you want.”

Wufei nodded in agreement.  “And don’t worry about your schooling.  Once you’re home, your father will get you the best
tutors so you can get your education.”

Quatre seemed cheered at the discussion, and he started talking animatedly with Wufei about plans as Duo headed for the
kitchen.


*****


Mueller smiled a little as he looked up from the book he was reading.  He was sitting in a corner of the front room, unnoticed by
the other three people occupying the space.  But, he liked it that way.  If he wasn’t noticed, then he couldn’t be hurt.

The little blonde that had been brought in from the storm last night was a delight to listen to as Duo and Nurse Chang made an
effort to teach him basic math with dry beans.  Mueller was thrilled to know that Mr. Winner’s son was very much alive and
reasonably healthy.  The man had been so sad for as long as Mueller had known him and the knowledge that his boy had
survived the plane crash would do him good.  It might help him find the will to live again.  Although, Mueller knew of one
person who would most definitely not be thrilled with this news.

“Mueller . . . could you come help me with something?”  Zechs was leaning against the wall at the corner of a hallway with a
small smirk and nodded toward Quatre.  “How are you doing over there, Quatre?”  He called, gaining the blonde’s attention.

The young blonde smiled.  “Okay . . . I learning numbers.”

Wufei cleared his throat.  “Quatre . . .”

Quatre flushed a little, ducking his head slightly.  “I . . . am . . . learning numbers.  Oo . . .”  He shook his head.  “Wufei is
teaching me with Duo.  Was that okay?”  He looked to his two teachers with a hopeful air.

Mueller stood up and put a bookmark to mark his place before heading toward Zechs as Wufei and Duo reassured Quatre that he
was making excellent progress.  Zechs walked down the hallway to the supply room and went inside, the door closing softly
behind him.  Wondering what Zechs needed his help for in there, Mueller cautiously approached.

“Zechs?  W-What do you need me to do?”  He asked as he reached out to push the door open fully.

Graceful fingers circled Mueller’s wrist and pulled him into the storage room.  Mueller yelped, his body going rigid as he
stumbled inside, the door closing shut again.  Above him a dim light blinked on, casting just enough light to see that Zechs was
standing right in front of him.

“W-What are you doing?”  Mueller asked with a voice that trembled almost as much as his body did.

Zechs released his wrist and Mueller took a step back, his body pressed against the door.  Frightened by Zechs’ behavior, the
youth fumbled in search of the doorknob, his instincts screaming at him to run away and hide.

“I’m sorry.”  Mueller declared in desperation, his heart hammering in his chest.  “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.  P-Please . . .
Please don’t hurt me.”

Zechs raised his hand and Mueller flinched.  But instead of striking him, Zechs slowly slid his delightfully chilly fingers along
Mueller’s cheek.  “I wouldn’t dream of hurting you.”  He said with a husky whisper.  “Not when this is far more enjoyable.”  He
leaned forward, bending slightly until his lips just barely grazed Mueller’s.

Mueller gasped, horror-stricken.  Zechs seemed to think it was an invitation and swept his tongue forward, dipping into Mueller’
s mouth.  Mueller just stood there, his body shaking, doing nothing as Zechs mapped his palate.  Silent tears slipped from his
eyes, a frail whimper muffled by the kiss.

Zechs pulled back slightly, his face marred with a frown.  “Is something wrong?”  He asked, raising his hand to caress Mueller’
s cheek.

Mueller shuddered severely, slamming himself backwards and into the door to avoid the harmless gentle contact.  What had he
done so wrong?  Why did Zechs want to do this to him?

His tears fell more steadily and he slid to the floor, his arms going around his knees.  “Please.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to do
anything wrong.”  He whispered, repeating apologies for whatever he must have done to encourage this.  He simply didn’t want
to be hurt anymore.  Maybe Zechs wouldn’t continue if Mueller apologized, or did something to show how very sorry he was.

“Mueller?”  Zechs whispered, tenderly laying his hand on Mueller’s shoulder.

Mueller flinched, a frail whimper escaping him.

Zechs took his hand away.  “What’s wrong?”  He asked.

“Please don’t hurt me.”  Mueller replied, staring unfocused at the floor.


*****


Zechs was at a loss and feeling quite worried.  He had thought that Mueller would welcome, even encourage his advances.  
Instead, Mueller was shrinking away from him and begging Zechs not to hurt him.  “Calm down.  What makes you think I
would harm you?”

Mueller’s eyes were filled with fear as he shook his head, as if he was afraid that answering would cause some dire
punishment.  “Please . . .”

Zechs knelt down and reached forward, gently tipping Mueller’s face up.  He didn’t like the fear and sadness he saw in those
gentle eyes.  “I won’t hurt you.  I thought . . . this morning, I was awake and I thought you wanted to be with me.  If I
misunderstood, I most humbly apologize.”  He still clearly remembered the scene he had woken to, the sight and sounds of
Mueller pleasuring himself.  He had been sure that Mueller had been looking at him.  Perhaps he had been wrong though.  He had
just awakened.  Maybe it had been a mistake to approach the young man in such a forward manner.

Mueller’s eyes focused on him and a small spark entered his eyes.  “Really?  You . . . you won’t harm me?”

Zechs shook his head.  “Never.  Tell me, what made you think I would harm you?”

The dark-haired youth bit his lip lightly.  “I shouldn’t tell.  He’ll get angry with me.  Not that it would matter.”  He lowered his
head, his eyes fixing on the floor.  “He’s always angry with me.”  He paused there, licking his lips.  “But . . . if I show you, will
you promise not to tell him when he comes back?”

Zechs nodded, not needing to think about that for a moment.  “I promise.”

He stood and watched as Mueller took several deep breaths.  Then the young man carefully took off his shirt.  Instead of the
smooth chest he had expected, there were bandages wrapped around his body, perhaps to bind bruised or broken ribs.  Harsh
dark bruises and numerous cuts and scratches marred his chest and abdomen.  And there was an ominous bruise on his arm, as
if someone had grabbed him too roughly.

Zechs reached out, his hand shaking slightly as he ran a finger over one of the bruises with a fleeting touch.  “Who . . . Who did
this to you?”  He was horrified.  He couldn’t believe anyone could be so cruel as to abuse such a kindhearted youth.  And the
sight of more marks peeking up from beneath the waistband of his pants, left Zechs fearing for what other injuries he might
possess.

Mueller swallowed and turned his head away.  “I’ll just say that he won’t be pleased to see that Quatre is alive and leave it at
that.”

“I see,”  Zechs whispered, understanding perfectly well who he was talking about.  There was really only one person who
would benefit from Quatre never being found.  The same person Zechs rarely saw Mueller without whenever they came to this
post.  It had to have been Alex that had caused these injuries.

“He won’t touch you again.  I won’t let him.”  He frowned, feeling a swell of protectiveness for this young man.

Mueller pulled his shirt back on and crossed his arms over his chest, holding on to himself.  He was shaking, but he looked up at
Zechs, tears glistening in his eyes.  “D-Do you hate me?”

“Of course not.”  Zechs tenderly slid his hand along Mueller’s cheek, brushing away the tears.  “I could never hate you.  Not for
this.  You’re being abused.  You did nothing wrong.”  He took hold of Mueller’s hand.  “Come on, you really should be resting.  
If I had known you were hurt, I wouldn’t have made you move.”  He stood, easing Mueller to his feet as well.

As they left the supply room, Zechs let plans run through his mind.  It looked like the shy youth had seen a lot of abuse and not
much kindness in his life.  Zechs wanted to make up for that.  When they passed the sitting area, he called out to Duo.  “Mueller
isn’t feeling too well, so I’m going to be looking after him for a while.  Do you need me for anything?”

Duo shook his head.  “No, but thanks.  We can take care of everything here.”

“Feel better!”  Quatre called out, stretching up so that he could just barely see over the back of the sofa he was lying on.  Wufei
gently pushed the blonde back down, telling him that he shouldn’t be moving around so much with his injured ankle.

Zechs smiled, finding it easy to like the gentle boy.  “Thank you, Quatre.  I’ll make sure he feels better soon.”  Then he quietly
left, leading Mueller back up to the room they were sharing.  “Here, lie down,”  he said, pulling the covers back on one of the
beds.

“But this is your bed,”  Mueller meekly replied.

“Don’t worry.  I won’t be using it any time soon.”  He delicately clasped Mueller’s hand and guided him to the bed.

Mueller sat, his arms winding around himself as Zechs let go.

“Why?”  Mueller swallowed.  “Why are you doing this?  Why care?”

Zechs lifted his hand, stroking his fingers across Mueller’s cheek.  “Because I like you,”  Zechs replied easily, knowing in his
heart that it was true.  “And no one deserves to suffer as you obviously have.  Now lie down and get some rest.”

Mueller took a shaky breath and nodded.  He laid down on his side, staying still as Zechs removed his shoes and covered him
with the blankets.  He closed his eyes, drawing his legs close to his body.  He was the picture of innocence and vulnerability like
that, Zechs decided.

With a silent sigh, Zechs found a place to sit.  He felt a need to watch over Mueller, wanting him to get better.  He didn’t want
Mueller to hurt anymore.  And he’d make sure that bastard Alex never touched him again.  Zechs decided right then and there
that he would do all that he could to make sure Mueller never suffered again.  He only hoped that Mueller would learn to trust
him.



To Be Continued . . .