Alone

DISCLAIMER: Do I havta say I don't own 'em? Darn...


AN: Hi! Thanks for the lollipops and cupcakes, noname, see, you got an update! I had a Free Day today soooo here's.... TWO chappies! yay! Now for the other news, I will be super busy over the weekend so you may get one little chapter and you may get none. But I'll be back by Monday 'cause like I said, I'm obsessed...

CHAPTER EIGHT:

Duo sat next to Heero, a sulk on his face while his talented hands worked away. They’d tied all four pilots’ hands behind their backs, leaving their feet free for when they’d walk them to the base, and sat them in a circle on the edge of camp. ‘Idiots. A five year old could get away from them.’ He’d had his hands free in seconds, Heero’s next, and was working on Trowa’s while Heero, who’d picked up his escape skills the quickest, worked on Quatre’s. They would all be free in another minute.

~Then, god, we’ve got to find ‘Fei.~

Osborne hadn’t come back. Duo hoped ‘Fei’d been alert enough to hide, but he had sick visions of Osborne straddling their friend’s weak body, driving his fists gleefully into Wufei’s fragile ribs.

~And if he brings him back here...~

Duo’s eyes went back to the mercenaries who were ransacking the camp, stuffing things into their pockets. Both of the ones who’d discussed the ‘pretty little Asian boy’ were there, and he had no doubts they’d follow up on their fantasies if they had Wufei within their grasp. They had already given each of the four boys a careful lookover before turning to their search.

He had a feeling that ‘Fei would appeal to them more. He and the three friends with him had grown in the year and half since the war ended. Off the growth restriction hormones designed to keep them small enough to fit in their Gundam cockpits, Trowa and Heero had shot up, both nearly six feet now, all long arms and legs. He and Quatre weren’t far behind, but Wufei had only gained an inch and a half, still looked like a young boy and now, thin as he was, looked like a beautiful little waif. It was a fragility that would appeal to these big, rough men more than the gangly teenagers had - they would *enjoy* hurting ‘Fei more just because he looked weak.

~Right now he is weak. God, I won’t let that happen to him!~

He slid the last loop off Trowa’s wrists, felt Heero tap his hand in the signal that Quatre was free. They waited until every last merc was turned away, and faded together into the brush, lifting what supplies they could with them. Trowa, luckily, had been right next to the three medical boxes, and he took them all. Duo grabbed up some blankets and a large canteen, but didn’t see what the others had. They followed Heero’s lead away, and put five full minutes of distance behind them before they heard shouts from the camp. By then they were far enough away to break into a ragged run, only to stop short again when Wufei dropped down from nowhere in front of them.

He was wavering, one hand hard against his left side, but he didn’t wait for help. “Follow me.” He hissed, and vanished, wraithlike, into the undergrowth to their right. They didn’t hesitate, obeyed him instantly, following along after his fleeting form. He led them to a small stream, waded up it for several hundred yards until they were faced with a midget waterfall. Wufei didn’t hesitate, plunged through the chilly water and disappeared from sight. They stared after him for a moment, then Heero shrugged and plunged through himself. The others followed rapidly, and found themselves in a small, damp cave, just big enough to move around.

Wufei had huddled himself small against the far wall, sitting on his rump with knees tucked against his chest and arms tight around his ribs. The fractured and re-fractured rib was well and truly broken now. He didn’t need anyone to tell him that. He could feel warmth, too, trickling from that scratch he’d acquired a week ago. Two weeks ago? Didn’t matter. It wouldn’t bleed for long. It stung a little, but it was the rib that had him in misery. It didn’t help that he was cold again. He leaned his forehead against his knees, knowing he could trust his friends to keep watch for now, despising himself for his weakness but knowing too that he couldn’t fight it.

He was nearly startled upright when a warm arm slid around his shoulders, and he felt a blanket being tucked around him and whoever was beside him - no, there were two people, one on either side. He raised bleary eyes to see Duo on his left, Heero on his right, both putting arms around him and cuddling close, careful of his ribs.

“Hey, ‘Fei, how bad did ol’ Osborne get you?” Duo’s voice was soft against his ear again, and he trembled before he could stop himself. He couldn’t find the breath to reply - Heero’s hands, uncharacteristically gentle, were sliding up under his shirt, searching out the damage left by the older agent’s hands. Wufei pulled back from them, wary both of hurt and of the feelings those hands were setting up in his body, unwittingly giving the other boy full access to his battered torso. The bandages had loosened, drooping around his waist and he’d ripped them off long ago, so Heero found the rib immediately, touched it so softly it didn’t hurt, felt the loose ends without making them grate together.

Wufei was very happy. That would have made him pass out.

He was discomfited when the hands kept searching, going over to his other side to delicately touch the bullet wound, pulling out to let eyes peer at the darkness on those fingers in the dim light still in the cave.

“Wufei. You’re bleeding.”

Those words brought Trowa and Quatre again. Brought the med kit and a flashlight Heero had caught up and now carefully shielded against hitting the curtaining water and giving away their position. He shone it on Wufei’s ribs while Duo calmly held his arms and kept him from struggling, while Quatre and Trowa again cleaned the bullet wound and bandaged it. While they spread something cool and wonderful over his aching rib and wrapped it in firm, welcome pressure. Wufei was nearly under when someone pulled his wet shirt completely off and gasped at the bruises on his back, while hands searched there for more fractures or breaks and found none, when a dry shirt was eased onto him and he *was* gone by the time arms came back around him, cuddling close to warm him and his head was on a firm, smooth shoulder. He never knew.

He was asleep.