Hope From the Past

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

Notes: Problems arise while the guys are away on a mission.

Hope From the Past

//Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real//

“Crawling” by: Linkin Park

Part Eight


Meiran frowned as she approached Duo’s bedside. The young man looked to be in the midst of some horrible nightmare. He was thrashing about . . . well as much as he could anyway . . . and he was drenched in sweat. Groans and whimpers left his lips, anguished cries of terror filling the room.

She took a glance over at the other bed, cingcing that Quatre was trying to get up. There was no way his body could support himself though, and that was just what Catherine . . . who was forcing him to stay down . . . kept trying to tell him. He was too weak to try and get out of bed, his legs were useless to him at the moment, they would never support his weight.

A doctor quickly approached Duo’s bedside, readying a syringe as he got closer. Quatre screamed at him to stay away, but the doctor ignored Quatre’s cries, grabbing Duo’s arm and pressing the needle into Duo’s skin.

Suddenly Duo’s eyes flew open, terror filling them. They flashed with a sharp violet light, and abruptly the doctor that had touched Duo was thrown across the room by an invisible force. The doctor hit the wall, crashing down to break a table as he fell.

Meiran gasped, shocked and frightened as Duo’s eyes returned to normal, the light fading from within them as the sedative took effect. The doctor groaned as he rose to his feet, reluctantly approaching Duo’s side. Soldiers swarmed the room, surrounding Duo’s bed, aiming their weapons down at the unconscious young man.

“Leave him alone!” Quatre pleaded, still struggling to get out of bed.

“Take him out of here . . . to the isolation room!” The doctor ordered, anger seeping from his every movement.

“No!” Quatre screamed. “No, don’t take him away . . . please . . . don’t take him away!”

Meiran stepped forward, grasping the doctor’s arm. “Can’t you leave him here? He’s unconscious . . . he can’t hurt anyone.” Meiran said, trying to get them to keep Duo here. It was obvious that Quatre didn’t want to be left alone without his friend.

The doctor wrenched his arm free of her grasp. “You saw what he did!” He seethed, gesturing wildly to Duo’s unconscious form. “He didn’t even touch me and he threw me across a room! He’s dangerous!” Then he glared at Quatre. “That one’s probably just as dangerous . . . who knows what they’re capable of together!” The man yelled, pushing Meiran aside as the soldiers wheeled Duo’s bed away.

Meiran could only watch, concerned as they took him away. She knew that if he was in isolation that she wouldn’t be allowed to visit with him. In his fragile state of mind, he would take this badly. Meiran could only hope that Heero and the others would get back soon, before something horrible happened.


*****


Trowa frowned, not liking this at all. It had taken too long to get here, well over a day, much too long in Trowa’s opinion. And meeting with the Nomads was a bad idea, he was certain of it. They were unpredictable, and known to do whatever they felt necessary to achieve their goals. However, he couldn’t go against orders, so he, Wufei, and Heero stood guard at the door to the room they were in, waiting for the Nomads to enter through the only other door.

Treize, Sally, and Noin were sitting at a long table in the center of the room. The table was exactly the same distance from either door. Heero had already been around the room twice, checking for electronic devices or explosives of any kind. Nothing had been found.

Only a few minutes later, the other door opened. Trowa, Wufei and Heero stood ready for anything as four men marched into the room, the man in front a particularly huge person. Trowa knew from the few past meetings, that this man was called Rasid Kurama, and he like all of the other Nomads, was a descendant of Quatre Raberba Winner’s twenty-nine sisters.

The Nomads followed their own set of rules, their only goal to claim vengeance against the Talthean race for the crimes they had committed by taking the Winner heir almost three-hundred years ago. Trowa was reluctant to consider just what these men and women would do when they discovered that Quatre was in fact alive.

Rasid and his men ignored the small group already there, going about on their own inspection of the room to be sure of its security. When they were satisfied, Rasid and his men walked back to the door, the three men that had accompanied him taking places to guard while Rasid opened the door.

That was when the leader of the Nomads walked in. By tradition, the descendants of Iria Wintooktook control of leadership, and Zechs Merquise was her only surviving direct descendant now. Zechs had only recently taken the role of leader . . . in fact he had changed his name and hidden himself among the ranks of the soldiers to escape the burden of leadership in the past. But when the previous leader, his own sister, Relena was killed in an attack, Zechs resumed his duties. No one knew for sure what exactly had prompted his return, but most were pretty certain that it had something to do with Relena’s untimely death.

Zechs took a seat across the table from Treize, his second in command Une sitting on one side while Rasid took a seat on Zechs’s other side. “It is good to see you again, Noin.” Zechs commented, casting a brief glance in the young woman’s direction.

Noin nodded. “Yes, it’s been a long time, Zechs. If not for the business we have to discuss with you, I doubt we would have seen each other for a while more.” Noin replied, smiling at the long-haired leader of the Nomads. It was no secret that the two of them were attracted to each other, just as it was no secret that Une and Treize had once had an affair. However, in this time of war, commitment or marriage were rarities.

“Yes, what business brings you here, old friend?” Zechs asked, his attention turned to Treize.

Treize sighed. “I am not sure whether to call this good news or bad news, Zechs.” The older man said, his hands clasped together in front of him.

“Whatever it is, I assure you I am eager to hear it.” Zechs said, brushing a wisp of blonde hair back behind one ear. Without the mask he was much more attractive, Trowa noted.

Treize nodded, taking a file from in front of Noin and placing his hands over it on the table. “On a recent mission into one of the Taltheans’ bases, my men made quite an interesting discovery about what happened to your long lost family member, Quatre Raberba Winner.” Treize stated.

This got Zechs’s complete attention rather quickly. “Yes, what did you find?” He almost demanded, keen interest in his eyes just like the rest of the Nomads in the room.

“He’s alive, Zechs.” Treize said.

Zechs shook his head, holding his hand up. “That is impossible! Quatre Raberba Winner disappeared almost three hundred years ago. There is no way he could be . . .”

Treize interrupted him. “I’m afraid there is a way, Zechs. He has been cryogenically frozen these past years, along with another youth that was found with him. My men rescued them from their imprisonment and brought them back to our base where they are receiving medical treatment. DNA tests prove that he is Quatre Winner.” With that said, Treize slid the file across the table.

Zechs took it and quickly flipped it open, his eyes scanning over the contents. “I can’t believe this. Those bastards!” He quietly seethed, his one hand clenching into a fist as he continued to read.

Sally spoke up. “Both Quatre and his friend, Duo, are in poor health. The muscles in their legs and arms have atrophied. They are undergoing treatment for multiple physical abuses to their bodies and severe withdrawal and . . .” Sally stopped, her words drifting off.

“What has happened to the young master?” Rasid nearly demanded.

Sally swallowed deeply, casting her eyes downward as she spoke. “They have both been sexually assaulted countless times. The damage to not only their bodies, but their minds as well, could have irreparable effects.” Sally handed over another file, one where Trowa could clearly see a few pictures of Quatre’s injured body when Zechs opened it. “They have both been traumatized by their captivity as well they should. Three hundred years of little more than torture . . . it is amazing that they are alive at all.”

Zechs closed the files, bowing his head as a stray tear escaped his eye. “Thank you for finding our long lost loved one, Treize. How soon can he be returned to us?”

“His condition is very severe. I wouldn’t recommend moving him until we can be sure of his stability.d hed he seems terrified to be too long separated from people he knows and trusts . . . unfortunately he only trusts the people that rescued him.” Sally said.

“Who rescued him? I would like to meet these people to thank them.” Zechs whispered, the words barely reaching Trowa’s ears.

Treize gestured to Heero, Wufei and Trowa. “These three. They are my best men.”

Zechs rose from his seat, striding over to the three of them in only a few seconds. Then he bowed and thanked each of them, shaking their hands in gratitude. “Thank you for finding Quatre. My family is in your debt.” Then Zechs walked to the door, stopping there for a few moments before he left. “Keep us informed of Quatre’s condition . . . you can reach us on frequency twenty-nine. We want our relative returned as quickly as possible.” Then he left, not waiting around to hear if there was anything else that Treize had to say.

Une quietly rose from her seat, picking up the files as she stood. “If you’ll excuse us, we have much to do now that we know of Quatre’s fate.” Une smiled. “It was good seeing you again, Treize.”

“Always a pleasure to be in your presence, Lady Une.” Treize replied, rising from his seat and bowing to her politely, taking hold of her hand and kissing it gently.

Lady Une blushed slightly, a gentle smile on her face as she turned and left the room, Rasid and his three men quickly following her. Trowa was glad that this was over with. Now they could return to base. Trowa hadn’t liked leaving Quatre in the first place, even if Catherine was there to keep an eye on him . . . he just had a bad feeling that something was wrong.


*****


Quatre lay in his bed, sobbing weakly. Beside him, both Catherine and Meiran tried to soothe him, but nothing they could say would make him feel any better. Duo had been taken from this room, over a day ago, only hours after Trowa had left. And now, Quatre couldn’t sense Duo so well.

If only Quatre were stronger . . . if he wasn’t burdened by the drugs still in his system, by the weakness of his limbs, perhaps he could have done something. But he couldn’t, and now Duo was slipping away from him, the constant presence of Duo’s voice in his mind was fading from his thoughts. He would be alone again. He feared the quiet, never wanting to be trapped there again . . . he didn’t want to lose Duo.

“Where’s Trowa?” Quatre weakly asked, his eyes burning from all the tears he had shed.

Catherine smiled sadly, brushing her hand over his feverish forehead. “He hasn’t returned yet from his mission, Quatre. I’m sure he won’t be much longer.” She replied, trying to calm him.

Quatre turned away from her, feeling more tired than he could ever remember being before in his life. He wanted Trowa to come back, knew that Trowa would fix everything if only he would return from his mission. But would Trowa return too late to help Duo?

To Be Continued . . .