It took nearly twelve days for Quatre to escape the destructive hands of Oz. His body burned from the endless torture and his comrades probably thought him to be dead. With a pistol in the back pocket of the bloodstained pants he wore when he first arrived, he jumped over the fence at the far end of the base where few guards were ever posted. He then ran as quickly as his aching legs would carry him. Not even ten minutes into the forest outside the base he collapsed to the ground, not able to move another inch. Breathing soon became work and he surrendered to the overcoming darkness.
Quatre awoke to the sounds of a forest. Birds chirped happily and the wind created a slight, yet comforting, breeze. Cerulean blue appeared and quickly disappeared as the agony of the injuries took over. He sat up first and using a tree for support, stood. Once he was free from the fear of falling and having to get up once again, he looked around. He was clearly in a forest. By the height of the trees his was a very old forest. These were much taller than the ones he saw on his way out, the previous night. He was pulled from his thoughts by a branch snapping. He spun toward the sound and whipped out the gun. Standing there was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen. It was a creature a few inches taller than him and had dark leathery skin and looked mutilated beyond any type of recognition. It held a bow and arrow pointed at him. Without another thought he felt pain in his left side. He cried out and looked down at the arrow piercing him. He raised the gun to his attacker and fired. The creature fell to the ground with a hole in its head. He reached down and pulled the arrow from his body and tried to prevent the flow of blood with his hand, failing miserably. This time he heard horses hooves. He looked in the direction of them. They were so close he was surprised he didn't hear them before. He took a step back as they stopped. There were two of them.One had shoulder length blond hair and carried a bow. The other had dark wavy hair to his chin. The blond looked at the creature while the dark haired one looked at him. Quatre's eyes were wide he was scared to death that they were of Oz and wanted to take him back to the base for more torture. He raised the gun to them and backed away. The blond spoke to the other in a strange language. The dark haired man's eyes grew and he looked to the creature. Quatre watched the exchange of several phrases between the two of them. He had no clue what they were saying. It sounded nothing like any of the languages he'd ever heard before. Their attention was brought back to him as he gasped in pain. He dropped the gun and grasped at his side. He fell to his knees from the pain and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see what the men did to him. Surprisingly he felt calloused hands gently touch him. He opened his eyes slowly and looked up. Fear and surprise clearly showed in his eyes. Gray eyes looked back at him with sympathy. He pulled away from the man and stood. The man also stood and looked at him. Quatre didn't know what to do. He did the only thing he could think of. He ran. Even though he was in agony he just wanted to get away from them. He ran for nearly a minute before he slowed to a stop. He fell to the ground. His energy was spent long before. He simply lay on the ground. He heard the horses approach quickly. When they stopped the footsteps started. He trembled in fear and he felt hot tears flow down his face. The hands once again touched him. He flinched. "No… please don't…don't take me back." The man withdrew his hands and looked at his companion. Quatre's shoulders shook from his sobs. Once they died down he lay very still. He'd cried himself to sleep.
Aragorn looked at his elven friend. He had only gone to help the boy and he'd flinched away, saying something in the Common Tongue about not taking him back. 'Back where?' He wondered. "Legolas? What should we do?" The blond elf knelt beside the boy and wrapped his cloak around his naked torso. "We should take him back to Rivendell with us." He checked the boy's injuries. Legolas lifted the boy up in his arms and turned to Aragorn. "He is poisoned by a Uruk-Hai blade. Elrond should be able to heal him if we hurry." Aragorn held the boy while Legolas climbed onto his horse. He put the boy in the elf's arms and climbed onto his own. They rode as swiftly as the elven horses would go.