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Cages	By : Ryoko21 Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 14164 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Zechs 179

Duo had a wonderful performance with Sparrow, with a sensual, almost dancing rhythm to it. But nothing could compare to the intensity Heero had shared with Lenz. To say that I was proud of him was an understatement. In only minutes, Heero had reached out to another slave, one that he barely knew, and helped him overcome something that was very near Heero’s own experience. It was like seeing a child graduate to an adult. Heero had gone from needing help to giving it.

But, in some ways, it saddened me, because I suddenly realized that Heero no longer needed me. It wasn’t my support that he had looked for when he had been surprised by the inclusion of the other two slaves, and very soon he would not be looking for my permission either. It made me think almost nostalgically at those first few months, when Heero had needed me for everything.

Dinner passed quickly after the performances, and there were no more surprises in the banter. Still, it seemed that there was something left unsaid by Darus, and I was not surprised when he asked me to join him in his study after dinner.

“And bring Angel,” he said as I was leaving to freshen up in my room. “I would be quite pleased to get to know him more. He seems to be a… most perceptive young man.”

I don’t know why this place had me so off balance. Maybe it was the thought of being completely trapped inside this near-fortress. Maybe it was the upcoming prospect of Collar and the end of this mission. Or perhaps it was the fact that, out of all the masters that I had met so far in Collar, these two were the first that seemed almost normal.

And I had to wonder, were these two men better than the others?

Or was I becoming more like the thing I was here to destroy?

The thought shook me, and I tried not to contemplate it as I hurriedly washed up and then allowed on of Darus’ slaves to lead Heero and me into a small library overlooking the sea. Outside, the waves crashed against the sides of the rocky cliffs, and it did nothing to calm the turmoil inside me.

“Would you like a drink, master?” Heero asked from behind me. “You seem… upset,” he said as I turned to him.

“No, but thank you,” I replied, giving him a wan smile. Heero bit his lip and hesitated before continuing.

“Is it something I did?” he asked.

“No, you were brilliant.”

“But… you don’t appear to be pleased.”

“No, little love, it’s not that. I’m very proud of you. You did a wonderful job,” I told him, and even managed a small smile.

“So why the expression?” he continued, unwavering despite my efforts, and I had to sigh at his tenacity.

“I suppose it’s simply that I’ve begun to like the two gentlemen we are visiting, but I am uncertain of their characters. After the debacle at Vincent’s, I’m afraid to let my guard down again,” I said, and hoped Heero would accept that. He was quite for several minutes, his face unreadable as he too stared out at the sea. Eventually, he turned to me.

“I don’t think you have anything to fear from these two masters.”

“Oh?” I replied, startled by his conviction. “Why do you say that?”

“You can almost always tell the character of a master from the state of their slaves. Bad masters will have scarred and broken slaves. Masters who focus only on the competitions will have nervous, viscous slaves. And masters who are only worried about their own pleasure have greedy, ill-behaved slaves. Master Darus and Master Zephyr’s slaves are none of those things, and appear to be well-taken care of. Both of these men have honor. They will not betray you while you are a guest in their home.”

“But once at Collar all bets are off, hm?”

“It is war, Master. You can’t really blame them,” Heero said, giving me a smirk.

“I suppose not,” I said, and then gestured for him to come to me. He came immediately into my embrace, and I laid my cheek on the top of his head, breathing his soft scent. It seemed so long ago that he had been a timid, undernourished boy too jaded to even hope for salvation. The boy I had first met was so far from the strong, well-adjusted man in my arms. I wondered how long it would be before he realized that, and stopped looking to me for affection. It painfully obvious that he no longer needed me for anything other than emotional support, and soon he would not need that either.

Would I be able to let him go? Could I let him go? Everything I did was to give him and the others a chance at a normal life, but I had never stopped to consider what that life might be. Now, merely weeks away from Collar and the end of my mission, an honored guest of one of the men I was trying to destroy, and all I could think about was the fact that I might never see Heero or the others again. That everything I was doing was to give them the option to leave me.

What if they did it?

“M-Master?” Heero questioned softly, and it was only then that I realized I was holding him too tightly. I released him quickly with a muttered apology and went to stand by the window. Thankfully, Darus entered only a moment later, before Heero had decided to question me once again.

I knew I couldn’t let myself think anymore about the outcome of my mission. I couldn’t risk wavering in my dedication. And I was afraid, truly afraid, that I would.

“I am glad you could meet my, my friend. I hope you are not too tired, but I wanted to get to know you better in a more intimate setting,” Darus said as he entered and shook my hand. He was followed closely by the slave with the mechanical eyes. “You already know my slave, Lenz, and I have become a great admirer of your slave, Angel.”

Darus bowed to Heero, who simply gaped in astonishment as Darus finished the bow by taking and kissing the back of Heero’s hand. “You have done me a great service,” Darus said, speaking directly to Heero and looking him straight in the eyes. “If it were not for you, I would have let things continue as they were; never knowing something was wrong. The worst kind of cancer, in my professional opinion, is the one nobody knows about, that spreads and infects before it ever shows any signs. I want to thank you deeply for making me aware of this problem, and I promise that I will eradicate it.”

Lenz was blushing deeply when his master backed up, and Heero was still gaping like a fish.

“Was all that really necessary?” Lenz huffed.

“Ah-ah, love,” Darus scolded gently, turning to his slave and tapping him on the nose. “You and these,” he said, gently removing Lenz’s glasses, “are what caused all the trouble in the first place.” Lenz looked at the floor as his glinting, silver eyes were revealed, but Darus forced him to meet his gaze. “I can’t believe you would let yourself believe that I would ever be ashamed of something I helped create. I’m sure the others have let the idea take root in their minds as well, seeing as you always start the bad habits around here,” Darus teased, then grew serious with his slave. “But I won’t allow it to go on any longer.” And then he snapped the sunglasses in half, letting the pieces drop to the floor.

The thump that the plastic made as it hit the floor seemed to remind Darus that Heero and I were standing there, and he turned back to us with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, you must think me terribly rude…”

“And over-dramatic,” Lenz added.

“…it’s just that I rarely have guests other than Zephyr, and none ever make the kind of impression you have.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” I said, glad to finally have brought conversation back where I could understand it.

“Oh, absolutely. I had heard that you were good at taking in broken slaves and fixing them, but I hadn’t expected you to be so good that one of your slaves would fix one of mine.”

“I can assure you, the talent is all in these boys. Very little of it is my influence.”

“I’m sure your little lover there would disagree with you,” Darus said, winking at Heero. “It’s one of the reasons I invited you here, actually. But come and have a drink with me and we will talk of this more,” he said, and Lenz fetched both of us a drink of strong wine. I sipped at my glass as Darus continued. “You see, I invited you here because I think there might be something alike between you and I,” he said, and I almost choked on my drink. Had he heard my earlier thoughts? “You see, I have been able to take many physically dysfunctional slaves and turn them into productive, able bodied individuals, but never mentally dysfunctional slaves. I was fascinated to see how you had managed so drastically change so many boys without any physical methods. I must say, I’m impressed.”

“I have done very little, I assure you.”

“Ah, now there is where I cannot believe you. Even my slaves, who have been with me for years, are not as confident or, I fear, as happy as yours. And your slaves have come from the worst situations Collar has to offer and have been with you less than a year, and yet they seem barely scarred at all. Even your Angel here was, if I remember correctly, a runner, yes? One step away from death when you found him, if I’m not mistaken. And yet he is now nearly a Collar champion, and only months after he came to you. And here I am, letting my boys form phobias in exchange for a quick thrill,” he said, his voice distant. It was obvious from his eyes that he was thinking very hard about the situation at hand.

“I’m not sure I understand,” I told him, bringing him back to the present.

“Hm? Oh, I meant about the glasses and whatnot. When I first started doing these procedures I would have the boys hide their mechanical parts with clothing or glasses, so that I could surprise my guests at the end of the night. As my popularity increased, it was rare to find someone who didn’t know about me, so I let the boys start covering themselves all the time so at least I could surprise them with which boys had what parts replaced. I never, ever thought it would lead them to believe that I was disgusted by their parts,” Darus said, tucking a piece of hair behind Lenz’s ear. “But I suppose you never can tell what your slave will think.”

“I meant to ask you earlier, but I can’t help wondering why you would be doing these procedures. I mean… obviously your skills are in high demand. Why not…”

“Why not work for someone who can pay? No, it’s alright,” he said, seeing that I was about to apologize. “Come, sit, and we will discuss,” he said and led me to a pair of plush chairs. The slaves seated themselves on the floor beside their masters. “It’s an obvious question. The fact is, the slaves accept what I can and cannot do. They accept that the procedures will not be painless in the long run, and very rarely will I be able to create something that is similar to or as good as the original. Even Lenz, who has eyes that can see for miles, views the colors of the world in a gray, washed out state. People with money, they think that they can buy their way out of the pain and the struggle. Oh, and the risk. Did I mention the risk? The procedures that I perform are only completed on the most severe cases of injury and deformity that I find, and only in the complete secrecy of Collar, because of the high level of risk. The death rate for slaves that undergo my procedures is high; almost 85%. And of the 15% that survive, many are left in excruciating pain for weeks or even months. Lenz, for example,” Darus said, taking hold of Lenz’s face and looking deep into the metallic eyes, “went for six months without being able to close his eyes, because the electric current would shock his eyelids, which were not protected from contact like the rest of his body. He went twelve months having to physically adjust his retinas by means of a control knob that was located above his ears. You see, money makes people think they can avoid all of the hassle, but the truth is that even after perfecting my eyes for Lenz, I would probably have to start all over if I made a pair for another person.”

“I see. So your procedures are for the thrill of discovery, and not for the money.”

“In part. Another part is the idea of finally leaving a worthwhile stamp on the medical field. In these last few years, being free of civilized rules and regulations I have managed to make leaps and bounds in the medical field that have put me decades beyond my counterparts. But I have left a trail of bodies in my wake. Do you think that makes me a monster?” asked, his tone seeming more casual than his question deserved.

“It depends, I suppose, on whether your subjects were willing.”

“It’s nearly impossible to heal someone with no will to live. There wasn’t any point in trying to save a slave that had no interest in being healed.”

“And if there were a point? Would you have used them then?” I asked, unable to help myself, knowing that this was not the way a master should act but unable to deny the strange feeling that perhaps Darus was more than the other brutes I had met here.

“No,” Darus said, his eyes twinkling as though we had shared some sort of secret. “I don’t believe I would use an unwilling participant. Free will is what makes us human. It is something that can be broken or buried, but it is only something beautiful when it is willingly given.”

“I understand,” I told him, and felt for the first time since I had started this mission that perhaps I wasn’t the last uncorrupted figure in the world. That there could be other good people in positions of power. That my crusade wouldn’t eventually result in anarchy.

“You’re a good man,” Darus said after a brief silence. “I’m glad Zephyr convinced me to invite you. I think that once I was a good a man too. Now I’m not so certain. Age makes us look at things differently, makes us weak.”

He sighed then, and reached down to put Lenz’s hair. It seemed as though our conversation had worn him out, and for the first time his face actually held its years in plain view.

“I am an old man,” he continue, his eyes far away and dreamy once again. “I lived for many years in a loveless marriage, fathered children who now have children and families of their own. I spent all my time worried about money and discovery, always working and thinking and running. Now I don’t even know all my grandchildren’s names. When I was first offered a Collar slave, I thought it was monstrous. And, for the most part, I was right. The ability to practice my skill without a thirty-volume set of rules was what drew me into this life. For a while, I merely fixed slaves and sent them on their way, a used car dealership for humans to put it simply. But then Lenz came along, with his acid-burned eyes, damaged beyond all repair. I knew it would take years to cure him, if I ever could. And that was when I got to see a side to this process that I had never seen before. I got to experience the day-to-day recovery of someone I had helped, got to be there for all the setbacks and triumphs. More than that, I got to feel the depth of the gratitude that came from helping them. Real, true gratitude, not the thanks you get after doing a billion dollar surgery for a multi-trillionaire. After that, I just couldn’t let Lenz- or any of the others- leave me. They were too much a part of me. They were my family in a way my real family had never been. I was accepted and appreciated for me. And I was loved.” He paused then, and looked deeply into my eyes. “Do you think that’s why we all do it? To find love, even in the worst places? Are we really such weak creatures?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “We are all weak. Love… makes us weak. Makes us forget everything else.”

“Hm. I’m glad you understand. I just wanted you to know because… because one day all of our weaknesses will catch up with us. Each of us will have to atone for our sins. So I just want you to understand… an old man’s weakness.”

I was so startled by his insinuation that I let the conversation lapse for several minutes, trying to guess what and how much he knew. Eventually, he spoke again.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to burden you with my troubles. It’s simply that I see a kindred spirit in you. I thought Zephyr and I were perhaps the only two who were not truly here fro the violence and the lechery,” he told me softly, and I felt my heart relax a bit. “Perhaps you have your own story that brings you this far into the depths of hell. But I think one story is enough for tonight. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to retire for a while. If someone will let me actually sleep,” he teased tousling his slave’s hair. The age was gone from his face again, and back was the man who seemed no more than middle aged, all strength and humor. “Zephyr has asked that you bring your slaves back down to the hall tomorrow. His favorite hobby is photography, and he would like to take some pictures for you. I will probably be… occupied… until breakfast.”

And then he was gone, leading his slave out the door by the hand and talking in soft tones to the younger man, leaving only myself, my slave, and my suspicions behind.
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Cages