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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.

Chapter List
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Wufei 180

When Zechs returned from speaking with Darus, he was visibly distracted and upset. He immediately shut himself into the master bedroom. This was despite the fact that Heero reported that he and Master Darus had actually seemed to be hitting it off rather well. Still, something Darus had said had obviously upset Zechs enough to have him hiding in his room like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum.

He’d had a lot of those lately. It was painfully obvious that he was stressed, and I was the only other soul who had an inkling as to why.

Zechs and I hadn’t spoken about his mission since I first discovered it, weeks ago. Neither, of course, had we spoken about my past decisions to throw the dance competition at Collar. There simply hadn’t been a moment since then when something wasn’t ready to or in the process of falling apart. We’d had some fun times, certainly, but even those were squeezed in between a thousand other things that were pack into the days. It was like the Collar competition was Armageddon. Like there would be no more time after that. Like it was the end.

And was it?

It was a thought that haunted me. Was that the reason for all Zechs hurries? Was that why he pushed us so hard? Because he wanted to be rid of us as soon as possible?

I’d like for that to sound noble and brave. I’d like for you to think that I was concerned about this so that I could keep the others safe. I’d like for you to think that I’m better than worrying only about myself.

But I’m not.

If we’re going to be painfully honest, and it’s pretty hard to lie when you’re essentially talking to yourself, I have to admit to you that I was not so worried about Zechs wanting to be rid of us as soon as possible.

I was far more worried about him wanting to be rid of me as soon as possible.

I mean, at this point, why was he even keeping me around in the first place? Just because my heart got all twisted up when I was with him, it didn’t mean he felt that same. And with all the other males around swooning over him all the time, what was the likelihood he’d be interested in me over them anyway? And why did I even need him anyway? He was attractive and kind, certainly, but I had met other kind and attractive people. A few anyway. And what was so special about him?

It wasn’t like I was in love with him. A mild infatuation, perhaps. A combination of physical lust and attraction to the sense of safety he provided. That was all.

It wasn’t like I’d die if something happened to him. It wasn’t like I was feeling scorned by his lack of trust in me. It wasn’t like I felt overlooked from all the attention he was giving his other slaves. And it certainly wasn’t like I was jealous of the fact that they had all paired off while the object of my affection refused to seriously heed any of my advances.

It wasn’t like that at all.

And so I found myself staring at the door to the master bedroom for several minutes, trying to decide if it would be more foolish to walk away or go in.

My hand found its way to the doorknob, and I found myself stepping over the threshold. Inside, the room was dim. There were only two large windows in the room, and the light pouring through them gave the room the gothic look of a cathedral. One of the windows was open, letting a cool sea breeze waft through the room.

Zechs was on the floor, sitting crosslegged beneath that window. He held a cigarette in one hand and a glass of brandy in the other. The smoke from the cigarette curled and wafted out the window, and Zechs took another puff before he even noticed me. When he did, he gestured for me to shut the door.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I quit when I was nineteen. Now I only smoke when I’m… anxious.”

Translation: I’ve actually been so stressed lately that I took up smoking again.

“You should try to find some other outlet for your nervousness. Perhaps meditation.”

“I can’t imagine I have the patience or resolve for meditation,” he said, taking a long puff from the cigarette before tossing it out the window. “There, now I’ve quit. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

“So what can I do for you?”

“I wanted to talk more about… Well, about the competition. About… about my dancing event.”

“I suppose we never did resolve that, did we?” he said after a long pause. His voice was calmer than I had expected. “It must have fled my mind. I guess I just really wasn’t worried about it. You will win for me, won’t you? It hadn’t dawned on me that you might throw the event once again when you could win so easily.”

“You just assumed that I’d help you?” I wondered, a little stung. I wasn’t some mindless slave, to do the master’s bidding. Zechs sighed.

“Don’t make it sound that way, Wufei. I didn’t think you’d jump to my commands, if that’s what you’re implying. But you know how important this event is to me and the others, and you’ve all been practicing so hard. I didn’t think you’d throw that away out of pride.”

“Tell me why you need this win, and I’ll guarantee it for you,” I bargained.

“You know I can’t do that.”



“I’m not stupid, Zechs. The only reason people win Collar is to meet the master. And that’s what you’re after, isn’t it? Whatever your plan is, it hinges on meeting the head of Collar? But you must be a fool to think you could actually get this far without him knowing about you. You don’t know how closely this place is watched and monitored. Whatever you’re doing, whoever you’re working for, he already knows.”

“Then why hasn’t he stopped me?” Zechs snapped.

“Maybe he’s toying with you. It wouldn’t be unheard of, from him. But just tell me what’s going on, and I can help.”

“I can’t risk giving you that information. It’s too dangerous.”

“And yet you trust me to win for you, but not to know the end result of my winning? Why should I trust you if you cannot trust me in return?” I snarled, angry myself now.

“Because I’m trying to protect you!”

“You’ll get us all killed like this!”

“Why can’t you have faith in me?”

“Because you won’t trust me!”

“Damnit Wufei!” Zechs yelled, throwing his glass at the wall. The impact it made was like a gunshot in the small room. It hit the white wall paper and shattered, leaving a trail of brown liquid down to the floor. We were both silent after that, as though the sound had shocked us both.

“Just leave it be,” Zechs whispered eventually, fisting his hands in his hair. “Can’t you just leave it be? I’m trying to do what’s right.”

His voice was thick, like a man on the edge of collapse, and even though I was still angry at him, I couldn’t help but be pulled to him. I went to my knees beside him, and he pulled me into his arms. He smelled faintly like booze and cigarette smoke, but it was only a hint, like he’d walked through a bar and never stopped. Underneath, I could smell the musky scent of his skin, and the scent of lavenders as I rested my head on his shoulder. He clung to me, like he really would fall off the edge if I weren’t there.

How could I tell him he was doing the wrong thing? How could I tell him that all his efforts would be in vain, and he would eventually leave us all worse off than we had been before? How could I tell this man, who tried so hard and loved us so much, that he would eventually lose everything? And could I even help if I knew the truth? Was there anything we could do at all? Or was this fate?

I held him until he began to nod off in my arms, and then I helped him to bed. Curled up in his arms that night I could only wonder if this man would be my salvation or my downfall. No one told me redemption would hurt so much.

Trowa 181

The morning of our last day staying with Dr. Darus – and our last day of parties before the last-minute training for the Collar competitions would begin – found both Wufei and Master tired and distracted. There was something going on between them and all the slaves could sense it, most notably by the way neither of them could look the other squarely in the eye that morning. It wasn’t something as simple as a fight, because Master and Wufei had been in plenty of fights. It was almost… Almost as if there was a secret between them that they refused to share with any of us, or each other. Both of them dutifully ignored that anything was wrong, which only served to make the rest of us more aware of it.

But Wufei and Master had always had something of a special relationship. At first, I had attributed it to the fact that Wufei was not actually Master’s slave, and that put them on a more equal level, but as their relationship progressed it became clear to me that it was something deeper. The more stressed Master became, the more heavily he relied on Wufei to be beside him. And now, with the stresses running high because of Collar, it worried me that Master and Wufei were so out of sorts.

“Your face will freeze that way if you keep worrying so much,” Quatre chided, reaching up to smooth the wrinkles from my brow. I let the frown fade and tried to smile for Quatre.

“I just wish I knew what was going on between them,” I admitted, pulling him into my arms. From where I was by the fireplace I could watch them across the room at the breakfast table. Both of them were totally engrossed in their eating, never once looking up to meet each other’s gazes despite the fact that they were right across from each other at the table. Master looked like he had a headache again, but I’d already put a dose of aspirin beside his breakfast plate. We all kept a careful eye on what medications Master was taking, and I was temped to offer him something stronger for his headache, but I knew Heero would scold me. Master couldn’t afford to lose his wits around the other masters, especially not these ones.

“You’re frowning again.”

“I’m sorry. I worry.”

“Well, stop it,” Quatre teased. “Seriously, Trowa, don’t worry so much. They’re going to get over it. They’re both just too stubborn to see that their going to get over it, or they’d have gotten over it already.”

"How can you be so sure? You don’t even know what it is?”

“It doesn’t matter. If it was something unforgivable, they wouldn’t be being this civil about it. So it’s not something unforgivable, and therefore they are going to get over it once their manly prides decide they’ve had enough. Ergo, you should stop frowning.”

“Alright, my love, you win,” I said, giving him a genuine smile this time. But my worry did not abate even as I took him into my arms, nor as we eventually went to dress in black shorts for the photo shoot with Master Zephyr, nor even when we all descended to one of the large drawing rooms where the cameras were set up. Master and Wufei continued to ignore each other, and as much as Duo and Quatre infected each other with excitement about having their pictures taken, Heero seemed to share in my turmoil and kept casting worried glances toward Master and Wufei. He caught my eye once, and raised an eyebrow to ask if I knew what was going on, but I could only shake my head and shrug my shoulders.

When we met with master Zephyr, Quatre and Duo went immediately the stage and began posing on the pillows that were draped over the platform, both giggling wildly. Wufei, meanwhile, struck up a conversation with Master Zephyr’s slave, Breeze, and was soon chatting over the sophisticated camera equipment. Heero and I, by mutual agreement, settled on either side of Zechs as he sat opposite of Zephyr at a small table at the side of the room. Breeze was a small slave, nearly the size of Quatre, with dark hair and pale skin. His master was tall, though still shorter than Zechs, with reddish brown hair and hazel eyes. Zephyr poured himself and Zechs each a glass of wine before casting an amused glance as Breeze and Wufei.

“I suppose you may have gathered already that it’s really Breeze that has the talent for photography. It’s attributed to me because I own him, but I probably couldn’t even find the on button on those cameras of his.”

“I had heard that your photography was sought-after, but I wasn’t aware that your slave was the one to take the photos,” Zechs replied, picking up the easy flow of conversation as he sipped his wine.

“Yes, Breeze originally picked it up as a hobby, but he’s become astoundingly good at it. He was adamant that he be allowed to photograph your slaves. I simply couldn’t refuse him.”

“I’m glad. I’d be honored to have some photos of my slaves, especially from such a talented photographer.”

Zephyr smiled, then called to Breeze.

“When will you start?” he asked his slave, who gave him a sheepish look in return.

“About five minutes ago, while you two were talking,” he admitted, handing a computer screen about the size of a book to Zechs and bringing up several images of Quatre and Duo laughing and tumbling around the stage.

"They were just so natural, I couldn’t help it,” Breeze admitted, a blush stealing across his pale cheeks.

“No, it’s fine,” Zechs said, his eyes fixed on the images of Duo and Quatre, “They’re stunning.”

The images were life-like enough that I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d started moving. Each image showed Duo and Quatre filled with life and laughter. I could understand, then, why Breeze had requested such simple outfits for the picture, since the focus of the picture was the people, not the adornments. It was hard to take my eyes away from Quatre, and I glanced over to Heero and noticed that he had the same problem with Duo.

“How many more pictures will you take?” Zechs asked after skimming through about a dozen.

“Oh, he’ll take hundreds,” Zephyr answered for him. “And only be happy with a handful. But he’ll give you a digital copy of all of them and print out a couple of the best for you.”

Zechs nodded, looking pleased, and handed the computer back.

The next hour was a blur. Quatre and Duo took naturally to the camera, both being the more extroverted of the group. Breeze seemed to enjoy taking candid pictures of them together, and in different combinations with the rest of us.

Breeze seemed to find Heero and myself more interesting pieces, though, and the shots he took of us, together, individually, and with the others were more precise and exacting. As a dancer, I was not unfamiliar with the concept of using my body as a piece of art, but the positions and expressions Breeze asked me to hold were difficult primarily because I was required to hold them, where as dance was fluid movement. Heero had a particularly hard time with the pictures because he usually used his body as a means to an end, and so had no concept of what was required to make a position look graceful or fluid. Instead of being annoyed at this, however, I think Breeze took it as a challenge, and worked particularly long with Heero.

With Wufei, Breeze seemed to like portrait-style shots, although he took other styles when pairing Wufei with any of us. I had to wonder if Breeze could sense Wufei’s inner turmoil, because several of the shots had Wufei looking wistfully out of the shot, his face holding just a hint of sadness. The images were almost achingly potent.

It was several hours before Breeze began to wind down, but in the last hour his shots and poses became more specific and demanding, and I could tell that he was trying to put the finishing touches into his collection. By this point, Zephyr and Master had both had several glasses of wine, and were speaking enthusiastically about their slaves.

“I just can’t imagine how hard it would be to take on five. Seriously, you must have had ulcers!”

“Well, there were a couple of migraine-filled weeks when we first took in Shinigami, I will admit that much,” Zechs laughed, casting an affectionate glance at Duo, who was currently posing for a picture by strangling Wufei with his braid and smiling for the camera. Breeze was not amused, but I noticed him save a copy of the shot anyway.

“He is a handful, isn’t he?” Zephyr asked, the look on his face somewhere between surprise and horror.

“Sometimes it felt like I could use both hands and a rope and still not be able to get a hold of him. But it was worth it in the end. The rewards far outweigh the cost.”

“They always do, don’t they?” Zephyr said, looking toward Breeze, his eyes filling with pride. “But… still… it’s hard for me to imagine how you could take five boys, and I’ve heard some of them were severely damaged, and turn them into such stable men, let alone a team worthy of Collar competitions.”



“It… took a lot of work,” Zechs said, but I could tell by his hesitation that this had suddenly struck him as odd as well. It wasn’t the first time one of us had wondered about the miniscule chances of Zechs taking in five random slaves and having them turn into the perfect Collar team. But Zechs shrugged it off. “I’ve always been good at reading people for inner strength and character. I suppose this ability simply kicked in when I was picking them out.”



“I’ll have to let you pick out my next slaves for me then.”



“Are you looking for more?” Zechs asked, and Zephyr looked pained for a moment.



“Not for… companions,” he said, looking at Breeze, “but I do keep several slaves working for me. My accountant, actually, is one of my slaves.” Zechs laughed, although it technically wasn’t a joke. “But… how do you… I mean, Breeze still has nightmares, and he was hardly damaged when he came to me. How do you…”



“They all still have nightmares,” Zechs interjected. “You can’t even hope to erase what’s happen. Trying to cover it up won’t do anything but press it deeper. You just have to make them safe enough so that they can let go by themselves. For people who have been through as much pain as they have, they will always take happiness whenever they can grasp it. Sometime you just have to convince them that they can still feel happiness, that’s all. But if you truly care and want to help, sometimes that’s enough, you know?”



Zephyr looked as though he truly did understand, but Breeze called to us before he could respond.



“One last shot, if you’d like, Master Zechs. A family photo, if you will,” Breeze said, and it caused Zechs to give the first genuine smile I’d seen all day.



It took several minutes for Breeze to arrange everyone how he wanted, although the photo mimicked how we’d been sitting all day. Zechs was on a chair in the center, with Heero and I kneeling on either side of him. Wufei sat at Zechs’ feet, and Duo and Quatre lay on their stomachs in front of him, with their feet almost out of the frame. Everyone smiled, even though the picture caught Wufei looking like he wanted to roll his eyes at it all and Heero was looking directly at Duo. Duo was giving his wicked grin at the camera, like he’d just done something naughty, and Quatre had on an almost too-serene smile, as if to say he’d had no part of the mischief. I couldn’t help a small smile of my own at the two. Master seemed to be taking it all in, smiling directly at the camera. It was almost like the idea of our group. Like everything was perfect.



When the camera snapped, the moment was over. We began to gather our things and disperse. Breeze promised to send Master a digital copy of the pictures before we left and to mail the printed copies later.



It was then that Zephyr approached us. It was apparent that in the half an hour that it had taken Breeze to set up the picture, Zephyr had finished off the bottle of wine. He was now visibly intoxicated, swaying on his feet, and he seemed upset.



“Zechs, before you go, I need to say something to you,” Zephyr said, but stumbled as he approached. Breeze was instantly at his side, giving what little support he could with his small stature, and trying to pull Zephyr away.



“Master, I think you’d best go lie down,” Breeze said, but Zephyr would not be budged, and fixed his stare on Zechs.



“Listen, please, I need you to listen!” Zephyr said, and Zechs was surprised enough only to nod. “Look… Look, I just wanted you to know that… that some of us aren’t monsters. I know that’s what it must seem like to you, but we don’t want to be monsters. Darus and I… there are reasons we are here, reasons we can’t leave here. Once you have a slave, and especially once you care for that slave, you can’t ever get away from this place. I just want you to understand because I believe that you will be in a similar situation very soon and… and I want you to know, as a friend, that love is always the most important thing. Don’t ever doubt it, and don’t ever give up on it.”



And then he turned and let Breeze pull him away, leaving Master looking worried and upset.



Even after Darus came to explain that his friend simply couldn’t hold his liquor and to bid us farewell, Zechs still seemed uneasy, unable to write off Zephyr’s words as simply drunken ramblings. I suppose it didn’t help matters when Darus gifted Zechs with six slaves, to “see what you can do with them. They are all sound of body, and of no use to me. Good luck!” Darus said, and bid us farewell.



I could see the headache starting already as Master’s stress levels rose. As we boarded the train and headed for home, I could hardly imagine what the coming week would bring.

And from there, it was time for Collar.

Duo 182

I like to fuck.



Most guys do, right?



I mean, it’s generally accepted that most men like to have sex. And me? I like to have sex somewhat more than most guys. Well… good sex, anyway. The kind that really winds you up.



Heero?



Heero loves sex.



Like, Heero might actually pick sex over breathing if it came down to it. It’d be a really close call for him, anyway.



So, when we got back from the parties and Zechs informed us that we had one week before the Collar competition and that the new slaves would take over all our chores so that we could practice, Heero took to the practice like he does everything else.



With an insane, inhuman, monstrous amount of dedication and diligence.



Which is what, eventually, led to this conversation.



“No, Heero, I cannot fucking make my penis move on its own. Nor can I make it get long, shorter, dance, or read the alphabet! And if you can, then you’re a complete freak. There, I said it.”



“There’s no need to get angry. I was merely saying that it would make the performance more interesting if you could.”



“It would make the performance more interesting if I could pull a bicycle out of my ass, but that ain’t happenin’ either, buddy!”



“Do you need to take a break?”



“Gee, Heero, it’s only been three hours. I think I can last at least another two days before needing to stop for rest or food.”



“We could practice… Oh, you were being sarcastic.”



And that was the point that I threw my hands up in the air, turned, and stormed out of the training room.



I had better win Collar this year, I thought to myself, or he’s going to fucking kill me next year.



Really, I wasn’t just being a bitch. With only days to go before Collar, Heero had thrown his obsess switch into overdrive and had been cracking the whip like I was a rented mule. I’d probably gotten more sex in the last two days than I had in the last six months. I was fucking wore out!



Although, to be fair, I wasn’t the only one. I barely got to see Wufei, Quatre, or Trowa in the last two days, since they were also almost constantly working on their own skills and routines. And Wufei had been hidden in the library or the gym almost from the moment we got back. And Zechs… Well, I almost felt bad for Zechs, dealing with all the new slaves.



You see, when Zechs had taken on each of his first five slaves, he’d done it pretty much one at a time. So when one of us had a problem, he’d been able to personally address and monitor it. It was one of the things that made him such a great guy to be enslaved to, actually. He really cared, probably too much, about making his slaves better.



And now he had eight fucked up loonies to deal with.



So let me run down the list for you.

Demos, the sexy butler.

Waif, with the scar on his face

The twins, Romi and Loki, who acted like dolls.



Sith, who wanted to be favorite.



Rox, the silent thug.



Meri, who was used to being spoiled.



And Adio, who was sickly.



Sound like a good mix? Yeah, not so much. Between Sith, who was constantly trying to push the others (and us) out of the way for attention, and Meri who never wanted to do anything but chew bubblegum and watch television, Zechs was at the end of his rope.



But, at the same time, it brought out the best in Zechs. With all of his Collar slaves wrapped up in their events, Zechs threw himself into preparing his new slaves for his nearly month-long absence as the rest of us went to Collar. Wisely, Zechs had decided to leave all of the new slaves behind when we travelled to Collar. The idea of bringing any of these new, untried, and somewhat untrained was as ridiculous as… well… as taking me to Collar.



The first few nights, the new slaves slept in the living room, curled up on couches and a few curled up on the floors. Zechs didn’t seem pleased that Demos, the eldest of the slaves, had to sleep on the floor while Meri, Romi, and Loki took the couches, but Meri whined enough that Zechs let it go. Adio, who had been diagnosed by Sally with chronic malnutrition and dehydration, was sleeping in the medical room with an IV of vitamins and fluid pumping into his arm.



Sith, twisting his long auburn hair around his finger and coyly batting his eyelashes, asked if he could share Master’s bed, since he was awfully lonely. That was unlikely, considering he and Rox had formed a quick friendship, but Zechs rebuffed him firmly anyway.



“When I want you in my bed, I will call you there,” he had said firmly, and then went upstairs to sleep with Wufei. I could hardly keep the smile off my face as Sith snarled and cursed as soon as Zechs was out of the room.



“What the fuck is your problem?” Sith snarled at me.



“Nothin’” I said, then peeled myself off the wall I’d been leaning against and sauntering upstairs. I had to be careful not to walk too fast and give Sith any thoughts of weakness.



“Why do you rile him like that?” Heero wondered as he joined me going up the stairs.



“Don’t want him getting the idea that he’s got the run of the place,” I answered.



“Master wouldn’t like it.”



“Yeah, but he’s kinda naive about this sort of thing, don’t you think?” I asked as we entered the bedroom and started shucking clothes. Heero and I, along with Quatre and Trowa, had gone back to sleeping in our own rooms, mainly to keep from disturbing Master with our training schedules.



“He just wants us all to get along,” Heero defended, climbing into bed. I climbed in beside him, pulling him into my arms.



“Sometimes, the only way to get along is to make sure everybody knows their places. I know guys like Sith. He’ll slit your throat to get your dinner and not think twice about it. He’ll never understand that Master isn’t like that.”



Heero was silent for a moment, before nodding against my chest.



“Sometimes I forget what it was like before Master. What it was like when everyone was like Sith.”



It was my turn to sigh now, and to kiss his forehead.



“Sometimes I wish I could,” I said, and he leaned up and kissed me.



“I’ll make you forget,” he promised, and kissed me deeper. I kissed him back, and this lasted for several minutes, but unfortunately we’d been fucking pretty much all day, and our libidos were done. We fell asleep snuggled against each other.



I’d like to detail all the progress Zechs made within a week with his new slaves, but for the most part we were kept separate from the others. With his original slaves so wrapped up in their Collar events, I know Zechs spent a lot of time working with his new slaves. Demos, for the most part, took actual care of the other slaves and shepherded them around, but I know Zechs spent extra time working with the twins, who lived in constant fear of being separated because their previous master had only separated them to punish one or the other. Otherwise, the pair would only follow instructions or sit quietly together. Zechs managed to entice them into playing games, but he struggled with their separation anxiety. Adio spent most of the week sleeping, and was shakey and pale any time he appeared at meals. Waif followed Demos around like a puppy, having bonded with the older slave before the others had arrived. The two of them managed to handle most of the chores around the house, along with trying to get the others to do the chores Zechs had set for them. Meri was the worst about dodging chores, and could almost always be found sucking on a piece of candy and watching television less than ten minutes after he’d been set to something. Unlike me, who had avoided chores out of deliberate disobedience, Meri was simply lazy, and would whine or make excuses the moment he was found out. If that didn’t work, he’d offer to trade sexual favors to Rox to get him to do it. And Rox, who rarely said no to anyone, never said no to Meri.



But the real problem was Sith. Sith, with the slim form of a dancer and glossy black hair. His eyes were bright green on his narrow face and he was always smiling at Zechs. He reminded me of a snake, and he had his eye on Zechs.



It wasn’t until two days before Collar that we found out just how far he would go.



Let me make this clear: Zechs did not have sex with his new slaves. He had his Collar slaves, which his new slaves considered his harem, and then the new slaves that Zechs treated like normal servants. This confused and frustrated the hell out of the new slaves, most of which had been used exclusively as sex slaves. Despite their near-constant efforts to seduce him – some of which were obvious and loud enough that the entire household knew what was happening – Zechs refused to use any of them for sex, even when Wufei and the rest of us were too busy for sex.



So, I guess, Sith got the idea in his head that the only way he could become Zechs’ favorite was to become a Collar slave. And the only way to do that would be to replace one of the slaves already in the competition.



Ergo, Sith would need to eliminate one of the Collar slaves.



And Quatre had always seemed like our weak link.



At first, it was little things. A slippery floor next to the stairs when he was coming back from the shower. Trowa caught him that time, grabbing his wrist before he had fallen more than a step. Zechs had been very upset with Meri, who had been asked to clean the hallway earlier in the day.

Later, it seemed strange that Quatre would manage to get the hem of his shirt too close to the flame when he was cooking, especially when his shirt was not particularly loose and when he was so familiar with the gas stove that he had practiced on. But Quatre didn’t panic and flail, even though Sith had supposedly panicked and ran away. Wufei had been coming down to the kitchen for a cup of tea, and managed to put Quatre out before the burn was bigger than a sunburn. Zechs was so upset, though, he refused to let Quatre train for the rest of the day, blaming the accident on fatigue.



There could have been more, it was impossible to tell. Considering there were only three days left until Collar, I don’t know how Sith thought he was going to manage to get Quatre out of the running and get himself into the running and still manage not to embarrass Zechs. I mean, it wasn’t ever like he was a trained Collar slave. And I don’t think he knew just how dedicated Zechs was to winning this year, or I don’t think he would have tried anything. If he weren’t new to the household, or a total nutter, he probably would have realized that Zechs would at least be furious about Quatre being injured. He definitely wouldn’t be in a mood to welcome a new slave into his bed. I suppose Sith was banking on Zechs being angry at Quatre for the injuries, and wanting to take another slave into the competition to punish or replace Quatre.

And when it hit two days before Collar and none of his plans had managed to take Quatre out of the running, I think he panicked. I don’t know why he felt the need to be in this Collar match any more than I understood Zechs’ need to win this year. Safe to say that Zechs obsession was nearly rampant, and it most likely helped to fuel Sith’s fire.



To be fair, I don’t think that Sith ever meant to kill Quatre. I don’t think his obsession went that far. I think he was desperate, and I think he panicked, but I don’t think that counts as an excuse.

During the last few days before Collar, when Quarter’s “accidents” were at the worst, and we all had an understanding that one of us would be with Quatre at all times. I was in the kitchen making a lunch when Quatre found the note on the refrigerator.



“Duo, look, Wufei says the baby birds outside the library window have hatched. Can I go see them? Wufei says he’ll be up there until noon.”



“Yeah, just let me cook these hamburgers and I’ll come up with you,” I told him. Hamburgers were my specialty… and pretty much the only thing I could make that anyone would eat.



“Can’t I go up now? Wufei said he’d be up there,” he pleaded and I hesitated, but what harm could he get into going up a couple flights of stairs?



“Alright, but watch for wet floors,” I called as he immediately darted toward the hallway. I could hear him bounding up all three flights of stairs to the third-floor. I heard Zechs call to him as he passed Zechs’ second-story office, but I couldn’t hear what Quatre answered. I smiled as I flipped the burgers, only one having burnt while I was distracted.



It wasn’t until I heard the scream outside that I remembered Heero and Wufei had gone riding that morning and weren’t due back until noon.



I raced out the front door and onto the lawn, and my heart jumped to my throat as I saw Quatre clinging to the gutter of the second story roof. Somehow he had managed to fall out the third story window. Luckily, the third story was smaller than the second, and there was a ledge under it that covered the rest of the second story. Unfortunately, it appeared that Quatre had rolled down the incline of the roof when he had fallen and ended up griping the gutter for dear life.

            “

Hold on Quatre!” I yelled, my heart pounding.



“Duo, I’m slipping!” he screamed back, and I could already see the gutter coming away from the building. I knew that I didn’t have time to get to the third story and pull him back up, so I did the only thing I could think of and positioned myself underneath him in hopes of catching him as he fell.



But Quatre is not significantly smaller than me and was a good thirty-five feet up. That much weight falling from that height packs a lot of punch. So I was pretty much aware that, while my body would most likely cushion his fall enough for him to survive, the impact of his body on mine could very likely kill me. And somehow… I almost felt like I deserved it.



After all… I was supposed to be watching him, and if I couldn’t even protect my own family… did I really deserve to live?



And then the gutter came free and Quatre was scrabbling to keep a hold, cutting his hands on the sharp metal, and eventually falling. I positioned myself as best I could and braced my legs to catch him, closing my eyes at the last possible second and bracing for impact.



But it never came. Instead, there was a grunt and a thud above me, and I looked up to find Zechs leaning out the office window and clutching Quatre around the middle. They hung like that for a minute, which Quatre’s back braced against the wall of the house where it had hit when Zechs grabbed him, before Zechs began to pull Quatre inside.



By the time I managed to dash up the stairs, Zechs had managed to pull a bruised and shaken Quatre in through the window and was cradling him on the floor, trying to look Quatre’s cut hands. The scream had attracted the other slaves and Trowa, who barreled past me to kneel beside Quatre.

“Quatre, what happened?” Zechs asked when he had examined Quatre’s palms. Trowa moved to get medical supplies and began bandaging the cuts as I panted in the hallway.



“I was… I was looking at the birds and I… I fell… and…”



“That’s bullshit and you know it!” I snarled, too livid and too angry with myself to hold my tongue.



“That little shit Sith pushed you, and you’re fucking lying to protect him? Fuck that shit! You could have died!”



“Duo! He couldn’t have meant to…”



“Oh no, he just wanted to help you get a closer look, that’s all. A closer look at the ground!”



“Duo, you can’t just…”



“Quatre,” Master interrupted, and his voice was too stern to be interrupted. “I want you to tell me right now, and don’t you dare lie to me. Did Sith push you?”



“I… He… I don’t think he meant for me to fall off of the first ledge…”



“So he did push you?” Zechs asked again, and this time Quatre could only lower his head and nod.



By this time we’d gathered a crowd, and I saw Sith come up behind it, his face white as a sheet. Zechs took one look at him and stood, handing Quatre to a livid-looking Trowa.



“Get your things,” he said, his voice more tightly controlled than I’d ever heard it. “You’re going back.”
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Cages