Warnings: Contains yaoi and language.

Preview Line: Praxis listened for another moment, heard even more moans, and then Cain said, "Now, be a good boy and tell me."

Wounded Blades

Chapter One

The Trap

Praxis drifted in and out of sleep: sweaty, confused, and hurt. He wanted to wake up, but something gripped at his consciousness, pulling him deeper into the dream.

A voice called out to him, "Don't leave me!"

Praxis' heart lurched violently in his chest as he recognized that pained voiced. He looked around desperately in the endless darkness, hopelessly searching for him. Where was he? Where had he gone?

Again, the voice echoed in the darkness. This time it came from beside Praxis' ear as if from thin air, and he spun, staring into the nothingness of the dark. However, the boy's words continued to resonate within the stilled silence, gutting Praxis from the inside.

"How could you? You failed me!"

With a start, Praxis' eye bolted open. No! That's not what happened! It wasn't like that—

Praxis' heavy dream-induced thoughts vanished instantly as some foreign noise grabbed his attention. His eye throbbed from aches of the past, and it took a moment before Praxis could take in his surroundings of the dimly lit infirmary.

Praxis lay on his back, secluded by the white curtains completely drawn around his small cot. The sound repeated, but this time, it was slightly different than the first. Praxis listened to a muffled voice mixed with the distinct shifting of cloth upon the cot to the left of him. Alert, Praxis slowly and quietly raised his body up into a sitting position.

No one else was supposed to be in the infirmary. Doctor Galen had locked the infirmary's door when he'd left Praxis inside.

The doctor knew about Praxis' "condition" and was willing to not only keep his secret, but also, help Praxis by providing him with pain medication for his now nonexistent left eye.

The pain had been dull and slow at first when he'd lost his eye, but he'd easily ignored the pain. However, it seemed his left eye kept trying to remind him of his past mistakes. It chained him down and tried to drown him in the pain.

When the pain had become so intense he feared he would become a hazard if he were assigned to another mission, or worse, another navigator, Praxis had finally decided he needed to do something about it. He didn't want to make the same mistake twice.

So, he finally went to the infirmary, where he had met, Doctor Galen, who had been extremely understanding. Galen knew if other fighters or Commander Bering discovered Praxis' weakness, Praxis would be expelled, deemed weak, and sent back to Earth.

The doctor had done everything to help reduce Praxis' pain, and for a while, the pills seemed to work. However, recently, the pills' effectiveness had gradually declined, and Praxis was left with an ever-increasing amount of pain and no alternatives to help him.

Still, the little blue pill that Galen provided him with at least knocked Praxis out, which in turn dulled the pain and allowed him to forget about it temporarily. Praxis would gladly take that over nothing.

And so, Praxis found himself, yet again, in the infirmary because of his damn "condition." But, he was definitely sure he'd seen the doctor lock the door before he left. So who was sitting on the cot next to him and how had they gotten in?

As soon as Praxis thought that, a rough and somewhat angry-sounding voice echoed throughout the small infirmary.

"So what the hell did you drag me here for?"

The voice was deep with a distinct accent and an edginess that said he was constantly in a foul mood. Praxis could've recognized that arrogant bastard's voice even if all Cain had done was grunt.

Damn it. What the hell was Cain doing in here? And who the hell was he talking to? Praxis listened closely for another person to respond. Then Praxis thought, what if Cain is talking to Doctor Galen? What if the doctor was planning to tell Cain about Praxis' "condition"?

Praxis' mind roamed over the possibilities while hushed sounds murmured from beyond the curtains. Praxis stared behind the drawn curtain and realized he could just barely make out the silhouettes of two figures sitting down on the cot.

A low primal growl rang from beyond the curtains. "What the fuck! I hate it when you do this, Deimos! What is it, goddamnit? Just fucking spit it out already!" Cain yelled.

Praxis clenched his fists at the sudden rage that coursed through his body. Cain's voice grated on his nerves. Praxis bit his lip, fighting against the urge to rush out from his hiding spot and pound Cain into the floor. He had no good reason to. He just flat out hated the smug bastard.

But then Praxis heard a small whimper and realized that must have come from Deimos. Praxis didn't personally know Deimos and had never even uttered a word to the boy, but he knew of him. And what Praxis had heard about Deimos, he couldn't imagine Deimos ever being the type who'd whimper.

Deimos was small in frame, and many other fighters thought Deimos looked similar to a navigator. Because of his small body, they thought they could have a go at him, but Deimos wasn't easily taken down. He was an excellent fighter. But mostly, Praxis had heard about Deimos' speed. The boy might be small, but even the strongest man couldn't knock him down if they couldn't catch him.

Praxis was so busy with his internal thoughts that he almost missed Deimos' barely audible mutter to Cain.

"Don't trust Abel," Deimos whispered.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then Cain chuckled loudly and said, "What? As if I'd ever trust that boy anyway!"

Cain ended with a snort, but again, an uncomfortable silence seemed to fill the air. A loud bang followed, and Praxis almost jumped off his cot, reaching for one of his knives safely concealed within the suit's lining at his wrists.

However, as he heard more cloth shifting and the soft whimpering of Deimos, he realized that Cain had somehow gotten on top of Deimos and was now aggressively holding him down on the cot. But the way Deimos moaned, Praxis didn't think the boy seemed to mind at all.

"Now, I'm only asking this strictly out of curiosity, Deimos, so don't you fucking repeat it. But why exactly shouldn't I trust Abel?" Cain asked, and Praxis heard Deimos groan in response as if Cain had done something he liked.

Praxis listened for another moment, heard even more moans, and then Cain said, "Now, be a good boy and tell me."

Praxis heard Deimos' heavy pants, but slowly, the boy obeyed Cain and answered. "B-because… Abel's just a pawn. He's Commander Cook's tool to use against you and Commander Bering," Deimos said as his breathing steadied.

Cain snarled, and the sound of scuffling followed.

"Cain?" Deimos cried, and Praxis could practically hear the boy's heart break.

"What?" Cain yelled: cold, menacing, and uncaring.

But instead of responding to Cain, Deimos only sniveled again. Praxis wanted to beat the shit out of that asshole for Deimos and Abel. However, Praxis was entirely distracted by Deimos' words. Had he really heard Deimos correctly? Abel was working for Commander Cook against Cain and Bering? Where on Earth did this kid get his information? And if that was really true, why were both commanders at war with one another? Weren't they supposed to be focused on fighting the Colterons? Just what the hell was going on?

Praxis' brain was overloaded with questions and, apparently, Deimos held the key to the answers. Was that why Cain kept Deimos to himself and even mistreated the boy, purposefully keeping him on a short leash?

As if on cue, Praxis heard a loud squeak, which was unmistakably the vinyl from the spacesuits, resound throughout the room. Praxis wondered briefly whom had grabbed whom, but as he looked at the outlines behind the curtain, he could see a taller, broader shaped figure leaning down over the cot and over a still figure. The motionless figure was obviously Deimos, and it appeared one of Cain's hands wrapped around the boy's throat, while the other seemed to disappear somewhere near his thigh.

"Listen Deimos, the plan has always been the same. I get rid of them, you are my informant, and Bering tells us what to do from there. We don't question it. Abel is just another thorn. I'll handle him, okay? Just like the last one," Cain said, and Praxis heard the squeak of the vinyl as he released Deimos.

"Stay the fuck out of my way, Deimos. That's the only warning I'll give you," Cain said, and Praxis watched as a shadow version of Cain walked toward the door.

"Cain," Deimos mumbled under his breath, but Praxis was sure Cain hadn't heard him.

Praxis heard a swooshing noise as the air-sealed door opened and then again as it automatically closed, but it remained unlocked now that the code had not been re-entered.

What had Cain meant by he'd get rid of them and he'd handle Abel? Just what was going on? What were Commander Bering, Cain, and Deimos up to? Praxis had a million questions and he wanted to hurl all of them at Deimos, but if he did that, he'd also inadvertently expose himself. Deimos would question why he was even in the infirmary, and Praxis didn't want anyone else to know about his "condition," especially since they could use it as leverage against him.

So, Praxis stayed absolutely still, hoping Deimos would get up from his cot soon and leave. Praxis could barely see Deimos' outline since the boy seemed to be lying down, so Praxis tried relying on his ears but he only heard silence. It was unnerving, and Praxis feared to make even the slightest move.

"I know you are there, Praxis," Deimos said, and the boy sounded amused and extremely confident as if he'd planned this all along.