WARNING!!!! This chapter is R rated later on and very detailed in content,
if you're not ready to read such things, because Heero relives his entire
experience unwilling again, then stop when you see this sentence: "Slowly
coming around, Heero forced his eyes open, his right eye only opening
partially because it was swollen." I'll make sure you know when, this is
your warning, so you can't hold me accountable for your reading...
Squinting against the bright light that towered above him, Heero shivered from the cold table beneath his body. He had fallen unconscious it seemed on the way to the new room and he woke up with the harsh light glaring down at him, realizing that he was also missing his shirt and he laid on the cold, metal slab. Groaning softly, he listened to voices float to his ears, yet he couldn't make out the words. He was so tired, yet he had to get out of there, he had a very bad feeling. Struggling to move, he realized that leather straps bound his legs, wrists, shoulders, head, and waist. He couldn't move, he couldn't get free. ".... let me go..."
The doctor came back over to the table, putting on his mask and looking down at the boy. This one boy had intrigued everyone, the one they called the Perfect Soldier. What made him so different? That's what they were about to find out. "Think of yourself as lucky you little brat, you've managed to spark my curiosity as to why you're so different from the others. Why you're called, "The Perfect Soldier"." Taking a small scalpel in hand, he smirked at the terror in the youth's eyes when he caught sight of it.
"D-don't hurt... me... I-I'm not.... a soldier...." Tiredly, he tired again to break free of his restraints but to no avail. He had caught the glint of the blade and he didn't feel anything yet. Not even the prick of a needle or the effects of a drug to put him to sleep. No, they were going to do this when he was awake and make him live through every moment of pain.
Snorting softly, the doctor nodded to his assistant and grinned. "Sure, whatever. Let's go ahead and proceed in making the incision." Placing his hand on the youth's chest and holding the sharp tool as a pencil, he began to make the cut and felt his body jerk upwards as a cry escaped his throat.
Heero felt the blade enter his body, it felt like fire. Feeling his voice cry out, his body pulled against the leather straps as he struggled with more vigor as his body arched upward and made the restraints taut. The blade left a trail of fire down his stomach from his chest, down to his waist as he felt curious and prodding hands enter his body, searching, their eyes looking. He wasn't any different! Why didn't they see that?! He wasn't the "Perfect Soldier" and he was in so much pain! "... stop! please... stop it..." Crying out against the torment, he could feel the agony of the alienated hands picking at his insides, never needing to be there in the first place. It was like a liquid poured from his new wound, spilling over the sides of his abdomen and soaking the table, falling onto the floor as he struggled again and again.
The doctor continued with his observation of the Japanese youth's insides, yet what he found astonished him. "He's just like any normal human, nothing different biologically from that of you or I, his physical make-up of the body is the same as well. Interesting, I don't think anyone else has ever seen him suffer though. Inside, he is just as weak as we are and just as vulnerable, and yet he makes the rest of mankind think and fear that he is immortal. Hmph, he's bleeding surprisingly heavy when he's awake though, more than a normal person would and I was told he was immune to pain. Yet he's panicking and struggling now. Odd, are you sure this is 01?"
The assistant nodded, having looked at his records that OZ had of him and all the data. "This is 01, the Perfect Soldier. With any other pain endurance tests though, the observers wrote that he hadn't even noticed it, or so it seemed. Yet now, he's screaming and struggling."
Smirking, the doctor withdrew his hand and looked at 01, having been convinced that his bodily make-up was that of any teenage boy, or of any human. Not like a mutant or a science experiment where his DNA codes may have been tampered with. He was just a normal human. Medical wise, that was true. The only thing different were the pieces of broken bone and chipped rib bones, though by the bruises on his chest it made sense that that was from the interrogation.
Feeling his strength and energy drain, along with his life force, Heero stopped struggling as much. He only whimpered and groaned as his body lay still on the table, tears running from his eyes yet he couldn't wipe them away. He was in so much pain, he just wanted it all to end. Panting, the once great pilot felt sweat begin to roll off his face, mingling with tears as blood continued to seep from the incision. Looking about with frightened, Prussian orbs, he waited to see his brothers burst through the door and help him. Yet he screamed and cried out again when he felt the needle enter his skin as they prepared to stitch up the cut.
Biting his lower lip and sighing heavily, the doctor put the needle down. "You know kid, I'm getting really tired of your crying and being a baby. You're supposed to be the Perfect Soldier? Sure, sure..." Taking the scalpel in hand once more, he stood above Heero and looked down into his pale face, his cheeks deeply flushed. "You either shut up now or I'll shut you up permanently."
Heero struggled, squinting up against the light and looking at the doctor's covered face. All he could see were cold eyes staring back at him. Yet, he couldn't stop his cries of pain as he felt the other start to stitch up his wound. Not only was his body bruised there, but was cut open and now was being sutured with an needle and thread that pulled the skin harshly back together. He couldn't help it! It hurt so badly and he couldn't stop the pain, he just wanted it all to end!
"Fine, I'll make sure you don't make another sound..." Taking the small blade and placing the tip just above his throat, near the chest cavity and between the shoulders, he inserted the tip into his voice box and sliced through the vocal chords. His screams were momentary as they became wispy and airy, yet they were still heard. The older man would just destroy the voice box completely and then he wouldn't have to listen to him whine.
Heero couldn't cry out anymore, he couldn't scream! He endured the pain, tears flowing faster from his eyes as his fists clenched and his body arched, all the while he tried to break free. But it was no use, he was made to endure the entire thing. Gasping and panting, he heard the doctor call to his assistant that they'd have to stitch his throat as well, but the words were distant as the Japanese youth began to fall into a state of exhausted unconsciousness. Soon, he knew nothing.
§
(WARNING!!!!!! STOP NOW OR READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!!!!!!)
Slowly coming around, Heero forced his eyes open, his right eye only opening partially because it was swollen. He had no clue to where he was, he was just so tired. Yet, the familiar coils digging into his back and the sudden iciness around his ankles and wrists told him that the worst part of this nightmare was just coming true. He was in another small, dark room, and again he couldn't feel his clothes. He also tasted the familiar cloth shoved in his mouth, not being able to push it out or do anything. "No, please, anything but this again! Don't let them hurt me, dear God, please help me.'
Breathing rapidly, the young man struggled to the best of his abilities against his restraints, yet he was too tired and panicky to be able to escape anything. The sound of echoing footsteps on the steel floor just outside the door made his heart pound brutally against his chest.
Opening the door, the older man walked in and shut it behind him with a smirk. This would be so much fun, a nice little welcoming for the little whore. Stripping off his shirt and keeping his eyes on the panicking child, he sneered. "Impatient, aren't we?"
Heero shook his head vigorously, he wanted the man to just go away! Looking away, he felt tears enter and stream from his eyes. He didn't want to feel it all over again, he didn't want to go through it all over again. Where were the others at? Why hadn't they come? They knew!
Feeling the bed sag under the weight of the second man, Heero tried to scream out in agony when the pain from the incision was amplified due to the soldier's weight. That, and the pain from the long interrogation. He knew his voice wouldn't work, the Japanese youth had felt it leave him and the doctors had said that it'd never return.
Then it all started over again, the sick and unwanted feeling of the hard, stiff shaft against his body while his legs were forced open further, the other settling himself within his hips. Slowly the soldier started, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders and firmly kneading them with his palms and digging his fingers into his back. The sharp pains of something being forced inside of Heero's body made him arch unnaturally, trying to pull away but only managing in letting the man enter his body faster and easier. Heero tried to force him from his body, closing himself but he couldn't really rebel with the lack of strength.
The soldier closed his eyes, feeling the boy's smaller form beneath him but to him, it wasn't a stupid boy who was taken prisoner, it was his satisfaction. Grunting when the boy closed himself and he felt a pain shoot through his hips, he drove on further and harder, feeling the other made to relax as he forced himself deeper into the boy's body. It was just another street whore who sold her body for money while he got pleasure. Letting himself pretend it was just another woman, he began to pump harder and faster, his manhood entering into the body beneath him in full and growing larger with a burning fire, yet a welcome pain. Sliding his hands along the struggling body, he kissed the boy's neck and began to trace his path along his chest. He didn't even realized him as a boy now, only the strange scent of lilac that lingered drew him closer. He'd caught the scent when in the cell with the other woman, before he'd struck her down.
Heero tried to pull away, no longer being able to see through the tears that flowed in oceans down from his eyes, the horrible feeling of the man's mouth and tongue tracing along his body, from his neck to his shoulders to his stomach. He hated every last part of it, no he loathed it! The pain that he'd endured the entire of the time increased, sending wave after fresh and torturous wave of agony racing through his veins. His hands, greedy and wanting, touched his body in many different and unwelcome places, finally grabbing him and forcing his body upwards as his arms circled his waist. The large, stiff, manhood of the other forcing its way ruthlessly into his body, his weight crushing Heero's lean form. And he felt the other man push harder and faster, thrusting himself into Heero as he sank deeper between his thighs. He could feel himself wanting to scream again and again as he had before to release his pain, each time the other man entering his body more and with a wild cruelty. The man's palms crushed his shoulders, his fingers digging into Heero's muscles and seeming to turn the bones into powder beneath them as he forced Heero down. The youth couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he could only feel the agony, tears flowing from his eyes as the laughter of the other filled is ears, his mouth still tracing paths over his unwilling body. The youth's body was thrust about and forced to arch with the other man before he crushed him into the mattress again, the sharp coils digging into his skin and muscles. And still it continued, the other seeming to grow and swell inside of Heero as he felt a searing pain rip throughout his entire body. Arching higher in pain, he clenched his fists and tried to scream, the ultimate hell and torment coursing through his veins. *And still* the other man pumped harder and faster, bringing Heero's body up and his back arching unnaturally as he was pulled against the handcuffs. The greedy hands still forced him upwards as the man entered and pulled from his body, forcing himself inside, further and further each time. Still he cried and prayed for help as the other continued, forcing himself into Heero's body, grinding his smaller form further and further into the bed and forcing him to take it.
There was no way that Heero could hold on any longer as he felt blood begin to spill over his stomach, the stitches brutally being torn from his skin. Closing his eyes and relaxing his hands, he just let his hope diminish as he tried to give up, his body falling limp. Taking another ragged breath, Heero slowly opened his eyes but when he did, there were others in the room with him, a young man and woman along with others just about his age. Each had a softly glowing, golden aura around them, their eyes soft and kind yet sympathetic. Two teenage boys sat on either side of him, taking one of his hands in each of theirs and giving him strength. Were these the angels that Duo told him about? The ones that were watching over him and taking away most of his pain so that he didn't have to feel it; the ones who were strong for him? Feeling the pain begin to disappear, even if the soldier still pushed himself further and harder within his body, Heero let his head lay upon his right shoulder and let the angels be strong for him, he was so tired and only gave up. The large, booming sounds that echoed throughout the base didn't bother him, nor did it seem to bother the soldier.
Quatre weaved his way quickly within the base corridors, searching desperately for the room where Heero had been taken. He and Trowa had infiltrated the base while Duo and Wufei started a battle, and this was full-scale indeed. They'd found the cell but Heero had never returned to it, Cathy only lay on the floor and barely conscious at that while tears streamed from her eyes. Trowa was helping her out now and it was his mission to find Heero and bring him back, alive, before anything truly happened to him. Yet, when searching Heero's mind, he could feel his fear, helplessness, pain, and exhaustion. Something told him that he was too late to stop his friend from having to relive the pain, but he wasn't too late to stop it from continuing in full.
Feeling his release coming, the soldier pushed harder and groaned louder, forcing himself deeply within the boy's body. Leaning his head down again, he groaned as he suckled on the boy's neck, biting it and kissing his way to his throat. He was just another pleasure toy, like any other woman and the boy only pulled slightly away, not really struggling. He was too far into the climax to care much that the boy now bled from his wound and it was on his body as well. Giving a final moan of pleasure, he felt his release come but the boy no longer struggled beneath him. Slowly, the sound of explosions came to him and he knew that if anything, the other Gundam Pilots had come for their little friend. Well, when they were captured, he have just as much fun turning them into his little pleasure toys while he showed them what a real man was. Tiredly, he pulled his swollen shaft from the boy's limp body and stood; snagging up the sheet, using it to wipe the blood from his chest and lower body. Pulling on his pants and briefs, he heard a shot fired and took up his gun, not bothering with his shirt. He only aimed it at "The Perfect Soldier's" head, placing his finger on the trigger.
Throwing the door open, Quatre focused his aim quickly on the soldier, but his eyes shot to the bed and he had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming out. Heero's deathly pale form was thin and lean, his entire body covered in bruises as blood slowly oozed from a wound in his chest and from beneath him. The deep red liquid ran from his wrists and ankles down his arms and legs as well, his chest rising and falling in short, shallow gasps. With a burning hatred, Quatre wanted to kill someone this time, without remorse or regret. "How could you do that to him?! You are truly a sick bastard."
Sneering, the older man replied. "I didn't hear him complain. And you'll know what it feels like too, when you're captured and are too ignorant to give us the information that we want. We get what we want from you, either way, and this was just a little welcoming for the damned whore, that was playing nice. And I suggest that you put that damn gun down right now unless you want me to put a bullet into him and blow his fucking brains out."
Gritting his teeth, Quatre slowly lowered his gun. There wasn't anything he could do now for Heero, he only hoped that Trowa came back and hurried. Not hesitating when the sound of another shot echoed within the room, the young Arabian raised his gun again and locked target quickly, shooting the soldier in the chest and collapsing him to the floor after the gun was shot from his hand. Turning quickly, he noticed Trowa across the room, his gun raised as well and hatred burning in his eyes. Walking over to the soldier who struggled to breathe, let alone get up, he took aim once more. "I hate to kill, but I won't have one regret about ending your life after all the hell you put my brother through, and I can only begin to imagine his pain. This is for anyone else you ever hurt as well, and for all those who've ever been hurt like this. You're a sick bastard and won't be missed." Pulling the trigger, he shot the soldier in the head and turned from his body, sitting next to Heero's side. Gently placing his hand on Heero's left shoulder, he looked into his pale and bruised face, his brother's eyes turned from him.
Trowa took one look in the room and dropped his arms, he knew that Heero had had to go through the pain again, but seeing him like that, it was worse than hearing the screams and seeing the torment in the faces of his victims. "Oh God..." Walking in slowly, he stood at the foot of the bed, taking one of the blankets that had been thrown back and gently covering his friend's fully exposed frame.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, the young aristocrat spoke softly. "Heero? Come on, it's okay now. He's not going to hurt you any more. We're here now, we've come to take you home. Heero, please..."
Hearing the voices drift to his ears, he felt his heart lighten with hope. It was Quatre, his brothers had come. With great effort, he forced his eyes open and slowly turned his head, though his right eye was swollen shut. Looking into his bright blue eyes, he knew that he was safe now.
Inhaling sharply, Quatre bit his tongue and forced a smile. "There we go... we're going to take you home now..." Nodding, he turned to Trowa as his other friend began to pick the handcuff locks. With delicate fingers, the young platinum blonde gently undid the tied cloth and pulled it from Heero's mouth as he took in short, gasping breaths. Watching Trowa finish, he spoke to his brother again. "We're sorry Heero, we tried to come as fast as we could. But we're going to take you home now and when you're better, we'd still love to see your show. The one you worked so hard on with Zita." Standing, he took his gun in hand as Trowa slowly and gently raised Heero in his arms, cradling him and wrapping the blanket around his ice cold and exposed form. Yet something caught his eye, and kneeling by the body of the deceased soldier, he took Heero's journal and pen from his pocket.
Trowa watched Quatre for a minute, then looked with disgust at the bed that was now covered in blood patches and other bits of aftermath from the rape. With saddened emerald eyes, he looked down at the light, battered, and violated form of his brother as he leaned into him, his eyes closing as he fell into the call of exhaustion. "Let's get out of here Quatre, let's take him home for good."
Nodding, Quatre left without guilt for having taken the life of that man, that soulless and heartless bastard who could do such a thing. "It's okay now Heero, we'll take care of you..."
§
Squinting against the bright light that towered above him, Heero shivered from the cold table beneath his body. He had fallen unconscious it seemed on the way to the new room and he woke up with the harsh light glaring down at him, realizing that he was also missing his shirt and he laid on the cold, metal slab. Groaning softly, he listened to voices float to his ears, yet he couldn't make out the words. He was so tired, yet he had to get out of there, he had a very bad feeling. Struggling to move, he realized that leather straps bound his legs, wrists, shoulders, head, and waist. He couldn't move, he couldn't get free. ".... let me go..."
The doctor came back over to the table, putting on his mask and looking down at the boy. This one boy had intrigued everyone, the one they called the Perfect Soldier. What made him so different? That's what they were about to find out. "Think of yourself as lucky you little brat, you've managed to spark my curiosity as to why you're so different from the others. Why you're called, "The Perfect Soldier"." Taking a small scalpel in hand, he smirked at the terror in the youth's eyes when he caught sight of it.
"D-don't hurt... me... I-I'm not.... a soldier...." Tiredly, he tired again to break free of his restraints but to no avail. He had caught the glint of the blade and he didn't feel anything yet. Not even the prick of a needle or the effects of a drug to put him to sleep. No, they were going to do this when he was awake and make him live through every moment of pain.
Snorting softly, the doctor nodded to his assistant and grinned. "Sure, whatever. Let's go ahead and proceed in making the incision." Placing his hand on the youth's chest and holding the sharp tool as a pencil, he began to make the cut and felt his body jerk upwards as a cry escaped his throat.
Heero felt the blade enter his body, it felt like fire. Feeling his voice cry out, his body pulled against the leather straps as he struggled with more vigor as his body arched upward and made the restraints taut. The blade left a trail of fire down his stomach from his chest, down to his waist as he felt curious and prodding hands enter his body, searching, their eyes looking. He wasn't any different! Why didn't they see that?! He wasn't the "Perfect Soldier" and he was in so much pain! "... stop! please... stop it..." Crying out against the torment, he could feel the agony of the alienated hands picking at his insides, never needing to be there in the first place. It was like a liquid poured from his new wound, spilling over the sides of his abdomen and soaking the table, falling onto the floor as he struggled again and again.
The doctor continued with his observation of the Japanese youth's insides, yet what he found astonished him. "He's just like any normal human, nothing different biologically from that of you or I, his physical make-up of the body is the same as well. Interesting, I don't think anyone else has ever seen him suffer though. Inside, he is just as weak as we are and just as vulnerable, and yet he makes the rest of mankind think and fear that he is immortal. Hmph, he's bleeding surprisingly heavy when he's awake though, more than a normal person would and I was told he was immune to pain. Yet he's panicking and struggling now. Odd, are you sure this is 01?"
The assistant nodded, having looked at his records that OZ had of him and all the data. "This is 01, the Perfect Soldier. With any other pain endurance tests though, the observers wrote that he hadn't even noticed it, or so it seemed. Yet now, he's screaming and struggling."
Smirking, the doctor withdrew his hand and looked at 01, having been convinced that his bodily make-up was that of any teenage boy, or of any human. Not like a mutant or a science experiment where his DNA codes may have been tampered with. He was just a normal human. Medical wise, that was true. The only thing different were the pieces of broken bone and chipped rib bones, though by the bruises on his chest it made sense that that was from the interrogation.
Feeling his strength and energy drain, along with his life force, Heero stopped struggling as much. He only whimpered and groaned as his body lay still on the table, tears running from his eyes yet he couldn't wipe them away. He was in so much pain, he just wanted it all to end. Panting, the once great pilot felt sweat begin to roll off his face, mingling with tears as blood continued to seep from the incision. Looking about with frightened, Prussian orbs, he waited to see his brothers burst through the door and help him. Yet he screamed and cried out again when he felt the needle enter his skin as they prepared to stitch up the cut.
Biting his lower lip and sighing heavily, the doctor put the needle down. "You know kid, I'm getting really tired of your crying and being a baby. You're supposed to be the Perfect Soldier? Sure, sure..." Taking the scalpel in hand once more, he stood above Heero and looked down into his pale face, his cheeks deeply flushed. "You either shut up now or I'll shut you up permanently."
Heero struggled, squinting up against the light and looking at the doctor's covered face. All he could see were cold eyes staring back at him. Yet, he couldn't stop his cries of pain as he felt the other start to stitch up his wound. Not only was his body bruised there, but was cut open and now was being sutured with an needle and thread that pulled the skin harshly back together. He couldn't help it! It hurt so badly and he couldn't stop the pain, he just wanted it all to end!
"Fine, I'll make sure you don't make another sound..." Taking the small blade and placing the tip just above his throat, near the chest cavity and between the shoulders, he inserted the tip into his voice box and sliced through the vocal chords. His screams were momentary as they became wispy and airy, yet they were still heard. The older man would just destroy the voice box completely and then he wouldn't have to listen to him whine.
Heero couldn't cry out anymore, he couldn't scream! He endured the pain, tears flowing faster from his eyes as his fists clenched and his body arched, all the while he tried to break free. But it was no use, he was made to endure the entire thing. Gasping and panting, he heard the doctor call to his assistant that they'd have to stitch his throat as well, but the words were distant as the Japanese youth began to fall into a state of exhausted unconsciousness. Soon, he knew nothing.
§
(WARNING!!!!!! STOP NOW OR READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!!!!!!)
Slowly coming around, Heero forced his eyes open, his right eye only opening partially because it was swollen. He had no clue to where he was, he was just so tired. Yet, the familiar coils digging into his back and the sudden iciness around his ankles and wrists told him that the worst part of this nightmare was just coming true. He was in another small, dark room, and again he couldn't feel his clothes. He also tasted the familiar cloth shoved in his mouth, not being able to push it out or do anything. "No, please, anything but this again! Don't let them hurt me, dear God, please help me.'
Breathing rapidly, the young man struggled to the best of his abilities against his restraints, yet he was too tired and panicky to be able to escape anything. The sound of echoing footsteps on the steel floor just outside the door made his heart pound brutally against his chest.
Opening the door, the older man walked in and shut it behind him with a smirk. This would be so much fun, a nice little welcoming for the little whore. Stripping off his shirt and keeping his eyes on the panicking child, he sneered. "Impatient, aren't we?"
Heero shook his head vigorously, he wanted the man to just go away! Looking away, he felt tears enter and stream from his eyes. He didn't want to feel it all over again, he didn't want to go through it all over again. Where were the others at? Why hadn't they come? They knew!
Feeling the bed sag under the weight of the second man, Heero tried to scream out in agony when the pain from the incision was amplified due to the soldier's weight. That, and the pain from the long interrogation. He knew his voice wouldn't work, the Japanese youth had felt it leave him and the doctors had said that it'd never return.
Then it all started over again, the sick and unwanted feeling of the hard, stiff shaft against his body while his legs were forced open further, the other settling himself within his hips. Slowly the soldier started, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders and firmly kneading them with his palms and digging his fingers into his back. The sharp pains of something being forced inside of Heero's body made him arch unnaturally, trying to pull away but only managing in letting the man enter his body faster and easier. Heero tried to force him from his body, closing himself but he couldn't really rebel with the lack of strength.
The soldier closed his eyes, feeling the boy's smaller form beneath him but to him, it wasn't a stupid boy who was taken prisoner, it was his satisfaction. Grunting when the boy closed himself and he felt a pain shoot through his hips, he drove on further and harder, feeling the other made to relax as he forced himself deeper into the boy's body. It was just another street whore who sold her body for money while he got pleasure. Letting himself pretend it was just another woman, he began to pump harder and faster, his manhood entering into the body beneath him in full and growing larger with a burning fire, yet a welcome pain. Sliding his hands along the struggling body, he kissed the boy's neck and began to trace his path along his chest. He didn't even realized him as a boy now, only the strange scent of lilac that lingered drew him closer. He'd caught the scent when in the cell with the other woman, before he'd struck her down.
Heero tried to pull away, no longer being able to see through the tears that flowed in oceans down from his eyes, the horrible feeling of the man's mouth and tongue tracing along his body, from his neck to his shoulders to his stomach. He hated every last part of it, no he loathed it! The pain that he'd endured the entire of the time increased, sending wave after fresh and torturous wave of agony racing through his veins. His hands, greedy and wanting, touched his body in many different and unwelcome places, finally grabbing him and forcing his body upwards as his arms circled his waist. The large, stiff, manhood of the other forcing its way ruthlessly into his body, his weight crushing Heero's lean form. And he felt the other man push harder and faster, thrusting himself into Heero as he sank deeper between his thighs. He could feel himself wanting to scream again and again as he had before to release his pain, each time the other man entering his body more and with a wild cruelty. The man's palms crushed his shoulders, his fingers digging into Heero's muscles and seeming to turn the bones into powder beneath them as he forced Heero down. The youth couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he could only feel the agony, tears flowing from his eyes as the laughter of the other filled is ears, his mouth still tracing paths over his unwilling body. The youth's body was thrust about and forced to arch with the other man before he crushed him into the mattress again, the sharp coils digging into his skin and muscles. And still it continued, the other seeming to grow and swell inside of Heero as he felt a searing pain rip throughout his entire body. Arching higher in pain, he clenched his fists and tried to scream, the ultimate hell and torment coursing through his veins. *And still* the other man pumped harder and faster, bringing Heero's body up and his back arching unnaturally as he was pulled against the handcuffs. The greedy hands still forced him upwards as the man entered and pulled from his body, forcing himself inside, further and further each time. Still he cried and prayed for help as the other continued, forcing himself into Heero's body, grinding his smaller form further and further into the bed and forcing him to take it.
There was no way that Heero could hold on any longer as he felt blood begin to spill over his stomach, the stitches brutally being torn from his skin. Closing his eyes and relaxing his hands, he just let his hope diminish as he tried to give up, his body falling limp. Taking another ragged breath, Heero slowly opened his eyes but when he did, there were others in the room with him, a young man and woman along with others just about his age. Each had a softly glowing, golden aura around them, their eyes soft and kind yet sympathetic. Two teenage boys sat on either side of him, taking one of his hands in each of theirs and giving him strength. Were these the angels that Duo told him about? The ones that were watching over him and taking away most of his pain so that he didn't have to feel it; the ones who were strong for him? Feeling the pain begin to disappear, even if the soldier still pushed himself further and harder within his body, Heero let his head lay upon his right shoulder and let the angels be strong for him, he was so tired and only gave up. The large, booming sounds that echoed throughout the base didn't bother him, nor did it seem to bother the soldier.
Quatre weaved his way quickly within the base corridors, searching desperately for the room where Heero had been taken. He and Trowa had infiltrated the base while Duo and Wufei started a battle, and this was full-scale indeed. They'd found the cell but Heero had never returned to it, Cathy only lay on the floor and barely conscious at that while tears streamed from her eyes. Trowa was helping her out now and it was his mission to find Heero and bring him back, alive, before anything truly happened to him. Yet, when searching Heero's mind, he could feel his fear, helplessness, pain, and exhaustion. Something told him that he was too late to stop his friend from having to relive the pain, but he wasn't too late to stop it from continuing in full.
Feeling his release coming, the soldier pushed harder and groaned louder, forcing himself deeply within the boy's body. Leaning his head down again, he groaned as he suckled on the boy's neck, biting it and kissing his way to his throat. He was just another pleasure toy, like any other woman and the boy only pulled slightly away, not really struggling. He was too far into the climax to care much that the boy now bled from his wound and it was on his body as well. Giving a final moan of pleasure, he felt his release come but the boy no longer struggled beneath him. Slowly, the sound of explosions came to him and he knew that if anything, the other Gundam Pilots had come for their little friend. Well, when they were captured, he have just as much fun turning them into his little pleasure toys while he showed them what a real man was. Tiredly, he pulled his swollen shaft from the boy's limp body and stood; snagging up the sheet, using it to wipe the blood from his chest and lower body. Pulling on his pants and briefs, he heard a shot fired and took up his gun, not bothering with his shirt. He only aimed it at "The Perfect Soldier's" head, placing his finger on the trigger.
Throwing the door open, Quatre focused his aim quickly on the soldier, but his eyes shot to the bed and he had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming out. Heero's deathly pale form was thin and lean, his entire body covered in bruises as blood slowly oozed from a wound in his chest and from beneath him. The deep red liquid ran from his wrists and ankles down his arms and legs as well, his chest rising and falling in short, shallow gasps. With a burning hatred, Quatre wanted to kill someone this time, without remorse or regret. "How could you do that to him?! You are truly a sick bastard."
Sneering, the older man replied. "I didn't hear him complain. And you'll know what it feels like too, when you're captured and are too ignorant to give us the information that we want. We get what we want from you, either way, and this was just a little welcoming for the damned whore, that was playing nice. And I suggest that you put that damn gun down right now unless you want me to put a bullet into him and blow his fucking brains out."
Gritting his teeth, Quatre slowly lowered his gun. There wasn't anything he could do now for Heero, he only hoped that Trowa came back and hurried. Not hesitating when the sound of another shot echoed within the room, the young Arabian raised his gun again and locked target quickly, shooting the soldier in the chest and collapsing him to the floor after the gun was shot from his hand. Turning quickly, he noticed Trowa across the room, his gun raised as well and hatred burning in his eyes. Walking over to the soldier who struggled to breathe, let alone get up, he took aim once more. "I hate to kill, but I won't have one regret about ending your life after all the hell you put my brother through, and I can only begin to imagine his pain. This is for anyone else you ever hurt as well, and for all those who've ever been hurt like this. You're a sick bastard and won't be missed." Pulling the trigger, he shot the soldier in the head and turned from his body, sitting next to Heero's side. Gently placing his hand on Heero's left shoulder, he looked into his pale and bruised face, his brother's eyes turned from him.
Trowa took one look in the room and dropped his arms, he knew that Heero had had to go through the pain again, but seeing him like that, it was worse than hearing the screams and seeing the torment in the faces of his victims. "Oh God..." Walking in slowly, he stood at the foot of the bed, taking one of the blankets that had been thrown back and gently covering his friend's fully exposed frame.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, the young aristocrat spoke softly. "Heero? Come on, it's okay now. He's not going to hurt you any more. We're here now, we've come to take you home. Heero, please..."
Hearing the voices drift to his ears, he felt his heart lighten with hope. It was Quatre, his brothers had come. With great effort, he forced his eyes open and slowly turned his head, though his right eye was swollen shut. Looking into his bright blue eyes, he knew that he was safe now.
Inhaling sharply, Quatre bit his tongue and forced a smile. "There we go... we're going to take you home now..." Nodding, he turned to Trowa as his other friend began to pick the handcuff locks. With delicate fingers, the young platinum blonde gently undid the tied cloth and pulled it from Heero's mouth as he took in short, gasping breaths. Watching Trowa finish, he spoke to his brother again. "We're sorry Heero, we tried to come as fast as we could. But we're going to take you home now and when you're better, we'd still love to see your show. The one you worked so hard on with Zita." Standing, he took his gun in hand as Trowa slowly and gently raised Heero in his arms, cradling him and wrapping the blanket around his ice cold and exposed form. Yet something caught his eye, and kneeling by the body of the deceased soldier, he took Heero's journal and pen from his pocket.
Trowa watched Quatre for a minute, then looked with disgust at the bed that was now covered in blood patches and other bits of aftermath from the rape. With saddened emerald eyes, he looked down at the light, battered, and violated form of his brother as he leaned into him, his eyes closing as he fell into the call of exhaustion. "Let's get out of here Quatre, let's take him home for good."
Nodding, Quatre left without guilt for having taken the life of that man, that soulless and heartless bastard who could do such a thing. "It's okay now Heero, we'll take care of you..."
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