He'd been scouring the town for nearly eight hours when the call finally came through.

"Trowa, Heero, this is Duo at base, do you copy?"

Heero answered, "This is Heero, over."

"Trowa. Duo, what have you found, over."

"Trowa, he's here. Quatre just came through the front gate. Repeat, Quatre is back on the base. Over."

Relief washed over him and he felt tears settle into his lower lashes.

Trowa needed to know, "Duo, is he alright? Over."

Static. A long pause that wasn't due to a bad connection, and then Duo's voice a little shakier than before. "I don't think so. Corinne's going to him now, I'm going as soon as I finish talking with you. Over."

Fear, the kind that grips your heart and tosses you around in complete terror. He hadn't felt like this in a very long time, a very long, but not far enough away, time.

"Duo, get off the line and go to him. Make sure you stay with him until I get there. Don't leave him alone. Over."

"I'm on my way. Duo out."

The line went dead and there was nothing more to do than to get back on his bike and race towards the base at speeds beyond anything even remotely considered safe. Quatre had returned to the base, returned home. Maybe it wasn't that bad after all; just a set back, just another set back. But the link was closed-nothing came or left through it. Why hadn't Quatre called to him yet? Why had he been at the base for five minutes yet hadn't called for him?

He didn't want to know the answer.

Twenty minutes later, he dumped his bike on the floor of the garage and raced to the elevator as fast as he could, Heero met him at the doors.

Together they rode up silently, Heero's hand resting on his shoulder in comfort. It didn't help. A hundred feet down the hallway, thirty feet down the left, make a right, then go another thirty feet, punch in the pass code, wait for the release, step through the door-gasp in fear.

Duo sat on the couch, tears streaming down his face. He was in Heero's arms almost the second they were through the door. Trowa didn't have time for this.

"Duo, where is he? Where's Quatre?!"

But all the braided American could do was point towards their bedroom.

With the agile grace of a hunting panther, Trowa walked to the doors of his bedroom, a place that had existed as a shrine to true love for him since he'd learned what the word love really meant. He barely heard Heero pulling Duo behind him.

At the doorway he stepped through and heard the telltale sounds of water running. Wufei and Corinne stood next to the closed bathroom door. She turned to address him.

"He's locked the door, and we don't have the pass code. You'll have to open it."

He nodded and reached for the keypad. Once the code was entered, he stepped though, and like so many weeks before, was assaulted by a wall of steam.

"Quatre?"

No response.

As the steam cleared Trowa saw the full extent of Quatre's pain. Every drawer in the place had been opened, the contents spilled onto the counters and floor. Towels were thrown viciously around and lay crumpled everywhere. The large mirror that covered the wall above the sinks was smashed, distorting the image of the blonde man huddled with his knees tucked into his chest in the shower, allowing the burning hot water to scald his naked flesh.

"Quatre."

Trowa was in front of the shower's closed glass door in a second. He didn't dare open the door, right now he couldn't afford to scare Quatre.

"Quatre, can you hear me?"

His lover had his hands in front of him, and he seemed to be examining the lines on his palms and fingers. He didn't acknowledge his presence, but continued to sit curled over as he looked at his hands.

Desperation called to him, and Trowa tried again. Hoping that Quatre would respond as he had before, Trowa attempted to command him.

"Quatre. Answer me!"

SMASH!!!

The Arabians hand smashed into the glass directly where Trowa's face had been. The gold ring on his finger shattered the glass, causing it to line and splinter away from the contact point. When Trowa managed to look past the racing lines, he saw a look of pure hatred on Quatre's angelic face.

"Why should I?" Quatre's voice burned with as much hatred as his face expressed. Cold eyes stared at him with a rage Trowa had never seen, not even when Quatre had been controlled by the ZERO.

"Quatre, listen to me-"

"WHY SHOULD I?" He saw Quatre clutching his bleeding hand, the one that had smashed into the glass. And then Quatre was looking at his hand again, studying the way the blood pooled and then released when he opened his fingers.

"There was a solar flair, I couldn't receive com signals. Quatre, I'm here, I didn't leave you."

But he could see Quatre wasn't listening. Quatre continued to watch, mesmerized as the blood in his hand collected, and then drained down with the rest of the water.

"You're a bad liar, Trowa."

He shook his head fervently. "No Quatre, I'm not lying, it's the truth. Ask Heero, ask Duo. It was a solar flair, I swear it!" Desperation painted his voice, and it took all of his strength to remain on the other side of the glass, watching his lover doubt him.

"They'll lie for you. They don't care."

"No, that's not true. Duo is your best friend; he'd never lie to you, never. You know that Quatre. Please, come out, please. We'll talk, straighten this out; you'll see, I'll explain everything. Quatre, please!"

But the blonde only shook his head no, before returning to look at his hand.

"Quatre."

"Do you know the difference between pain and agony?" His voice was muffled, as he traced the lines of the cut across his palm with his finger.

Trowa did nothing.

"Pain is a very simple thing. It hurts. Something physical is pain. This cut on my hand, that's pain. It can be overcome; people do it everyday. We did it; we used to do it all the time during the war. It isn't hard, it only takes practice, and even a weak person can hide the pain. I use to do it all the time, pretending nothing hurt me, that I could withstand anything with a smile on my face. Seeing Dorothy blow the top of her head off yesterday, that was pain, it hurt. Agony is something completely different.

"Agony isn't something physical, it doesn't hurt like a cut, or even a severed leg. It's a mental thing, attacking the mind. It uncovers even the best-intentioned half-truths. Agony can't be hidden from, it's always there. Once you have it, it never goes way; it stays with you no matter who tries to make it disappear or lessen it. You can't pretend it's not there because it rules your life, controls every move you make from the moment it arrives to the second you die. But I'm an empath, I'm the one person in the universe that can hide from agony. I can bottle it up inside and keep it from the light of day. Sure I have to steal emotions from others to help me keep it hidden, but the agony can be hidden. However, it still destroys me like it does everyone else, just slower, with more pain- physical-than others. Physical and mental, pain and agony.

"Which one do you think hurts more, Trowa? Which one do you think hurts more? To be stabbed through the heart with a knife, or with false promises of love and forever? Which hurts more, death or betrayal?! Well, ANSWER ME!!!"

Huge tears tracked down his face as he saw for the first time that this wasn't just a set back for his love, it was the end. He shook his head no.

"Oh my beautiful Trowa. Don't cry. It's not your fault. I'm the one that didn't teach you right. I taught you love, how to give it and how to receive it, didn't I? But I'm a terrible teacher Trowa, I couldn't teach you what I needed. It's not your fault, you can't help not loving me enough, it's all right, I understand. Don't worry about it. Nothing lasts forever."

And then Quatre was reaching for something in the shower and Corinne was screaming at Trowa to stop him. He saw the flash of the broken metal razor as he rose to his feet, as fast as the eye could track. He didn't think, only reacted, as he threw open the door and knocked Quatre's hand away, the blade falling from his fingers.

Then he was on top of Quatre, his knees on either side of his lover's naked waist. His hands had both of Quatre's in his own, and he was struggling against a strength he didn't know Quatre possessed.

"NOOOOO!!!" Quatre fought, kicking at him, lifting his body up off the floor of the shower stall in an attempt to buck him off. He didn't notice the burning water on his back, only the burning hatred in Quatres eyes.

"Quatre, stop!"

"GET OFF ME!!! Get off me now, Trowa! Damn you, damn you to Hell!!! I trusted you, I loved you more than I've ever loved anything in the universe!!! But you never loved me did you???!!!! You never gave a damn about me!!! You weren't willing to lose anything Trowa! I worked through your lies and betrayals! You only gave up me, you only gave up me! I sacrificed everything to be with you! I gave up all I've ever had, all I've ever loved to be with you, and all you could give up was me!! Damn you, damn you to Hell, Trowa!" Quatre continued to struggle, fighting with all his small body housed to get away from Trowa.

Tears bleared his vision, mixing with the water that splashed onto Quatre's water burned chest.

"No, Quatre, please."

"PLEASE! How dare you ask more from me, how dare you!?! You who won't give up anything, you who doesn't care enough-love me enough-to lose anything for me! Who abandoned me!"

And then, suddenly he stopped struggling. His raised knees settled into two straight lines that ran the floor, while he dropped his hands to his sides, and slumped against the wall of the stall. He turned his face away from Trowa's and looked out the open door to the broken mirror; looked to his shattered world. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

"I hate you, Trowa. I hate you."

And then he closed his eyes and fell limp, every muscle in his body giving up on the struggle. Trowa fell with him, allowing his knees to un-flex and his body to rest lightly against Quatre's. He removed his hands from Quatre's and took the angelic face into them, trying desperately to wipe all the scalding water from his flushed face.

Sobs broke his body, and he wept as he continued to try and remove all the traces of water from Quatre's face. His voice was pure agony and pain, mental and physical.

"No.Quatre no.please no.Quatre.no."

He pulled the limp body up and against him, cradling his lover, begging him in action and word, to hold on, to come back to him. That he was here, that he hadn't left, that he'd never leave him. He cried out that he loved him, had always loved him; that nothing else mattered but him. But Quatre didn't stir, didn't move, only allowed Trowa to hold him like a child does a rag doll; something without emotion or life. Something already dead.

He wept tears of such suffering and fear that he felt his heart dying with each gasp of breath he took. Quatre couldn't give up, he couldn't; he couldn't leave him here all alone.

"Quatre.please.oh god please.Quatre.please."

He felt the burning water stop its rain of pain on them both, but still Trowa could do nothing more than call to Quatre, call to his shattered lover, and beg him to see the truth, to see how much he loved him how much he needed him.

"Trowa." A very soft, feminine voice filtered though the agony around him. He looked into the tear-streaked face of Corinne. "Trowa, lets get him out of here and into the bedroom. We need to dry him off and check for injuries." Her words took a long time to sink in and when she tried to help him lift Quatre, he literally growled at her until she moved cautiously away. Then he lifted Quatre into his arms, whispering to him, still promising forever and always with every breath he took. Quatre would hear him, he'd eventually understand. Quatre didn't hate him, he loved him, more than anything in the world; just as he did him.

Quatre had been wrong; giving him up was everything in the universe to him. Without Quatre, he would have died long ago, by his own hand, or his own recklessness. Only Quatre had given him a home worth returning too, only Quatre's love had promised him a place where there was no pain or suffering. To give him up would have been to give up everything he'd ever had, every hope he'd ever allowed himself to dream. Quatre's love was the greatest sacrifice he could have ever made; didn't he know that?

Gently he moved towards the living room and rested Quatre's silent body along the couch, unwrapping a blanket to cover him, providing modesty and protection from cold. He watched the ragged in and out of breath that came from savagely bitten lips. His beloved was so hurt, so broken. He knelt beside the couch, running his hands along Quatre's face, through his hair and again, down his neck, trying to reassure his love with touch. His mouth still moved, issuing promise after promise, declaration of love and forever over and over. Quatre would hear him, he'd understand. He had to. He had to.

"Trowa.Trowa." He heard Heero's voice but couldn't bring himself to look away from his lover. Firm hands wrapped about his face and physically turned his head towards a pair of stern blue eyes. "Trowa, you are soaking wet and Corinne needs to do a sweep on Quatre; you can't be touching him when she does it, remember? Trowa, come with me, we'll dry you off and you can come right back to Quatre." Minutes seemed to pass by as he allowed Heero's words to settle, then with a shaky nod and a long look back at Quatre, he stood and moved with Heero back towards the bedroom.

Once there, Wufei and Heero helped him peel the wet clothing from his body, before replacing it with something drier. Wufei rubbed a towel through his hair, while Heero helped him with his socks, he didn't even take the time to feel self-conscious, he just had to get back to Quatre. Five minutes passed before he was back in the living room.

Duo was kneeling in front of the couch, while Corinne lay slumped in a chair silently sobbing. Trowa had a terrible feeling, worse than that, he feared his own observations were actually true. "Corinne?"

She started at her name and looked up at him standing before her. She closed her eyes and then stood and walked to the window. For a long moment she stood there, neither saying anything nor even moving. When she finally did speak, it was with tear-laced words and hopelessness.

"He's given up, Trowa. He-he no longer wants to fight." She paused, wiping at her tears. "He wants to die and in the morning, he'll try again. I can't reach him, and even a sweep did nothing more than clear out his last remaining will to live. I gleaned that Dorothy said some horrible things to him at just the wrong moment, then her death, and his sister's visit, add that all to his reoccurring feelings of betrayal and abandonment, and Quatre's just decided it isn't worth it anymore." Her voice died into a quiet sound that broached no hope, no light.

"There has to be something we can do."

"Do you remember when I told you that because he was such a strong empath, he'd have to want to get better before I could help him? Well he doesn't want to get better anymore. In fact he doesn't want to do anything anymore. He just wants to die. But there's a problem."

Trowa looked at her hopefully, a problem meant that Quatre could be stopped, didn't it?

"What do you mean, is there a chance to save him?"

A short and cold laugh escaped her and a fleeting thought ran through his head, that Corinne would never have acted this way unless the emotions coming from Quatre were blanketing her own in contempt and bitterness.

"Oh there's a way. What does Quatre want? Answer: To die. But he can't, right? He can't die until you tell him it's alright; because he still thinks he owes you his life. This has all been a set up, from the very beginning, from the moment I got here, Quatre's been playing both you and I. I told you his subconscious wanted to get better, but that's not entirely true, part of it does, but the other half fooled me with his empathic abilities, it made me think it wanted too as well. So I followed his mind, telling you to do things like to take control of him, to master him if you will, and I played right into his game." She laughed bitterly, and Trowa saw the others in the room visibly shake at the sound.

"You want the short and sweet version, here it is: Quatre's mind wants to die. To make sure that you'd let him when the time was right, it fooled Quatre first, into thinking that he wanted you to prove yourself to him. So his mind devised a test, the journals. What would you be willing to give up to be with him? Quatre's conscious mind thought it was the journals, that once you read them, he could trust you, but that's not the case. His subconscious was setting you up to look to Quatre's conscious- later on-that you hadn't really been willing to give up much of anything; that giving up him wasn't anything important to you. So his mind tells him that you giving him up is worthless, that you don't really care enough about him to even be in his presence. That's the first thing.

"The second dirty trick is the whole issue of control. His actions tell us he desires to be controlled, so we find a way of getting you in control of him. I don't think we could have made a bigger mistake.

"So here's how it all works, he tests you, and you pass the test; then he needs control and you give it to him; now he finds out you don't love him enough to give away anything important to you to be with him. All this boils down to the end result, Quatre wants to be controlled, he wants you to control him, and at the same time you have to give up something to him that will completely destroy you, to show that you love him. Understand yet?" She turned back to him, and then suddenly her face seemed to register the callous way in which she'd just uttered the fate of his most loved treasure and partner. She dropped her face into her hands and cried, letting loose the emotions Trowa desperately wanted to as well.

"Corinne?"

"Oh Trowa, what's the one thing in your life that would hurt you the most, that has in the past? The one thing that involves the most basic form of control known to man? The one thing in the world that if you had to do to Quatre, would save him, yet destroy you to the point where you'd resent Quatre for the rest of your life?" He stood quietly, waiting for her to answer her own question, praying she wasn't thinking what he thought she was.

"He wants you to dominate him Trowa, because to do that you'd have to relive your past, when you were treated as nothing more than an object. He wants you to treat him the same way, to take him by force. In doing so you'll control him completely-exactly what he needs to feel, secure-you'll sacrifice the thing that will hurt you most in the entire world-to prove your love for him is the strongest he's ever known. But it will also make you resent him, and perhaps eventually hate him for allowing him to turn you into the thing you most hate in the world, a rapist. In this way it's Quatre's subconscious's strategy to get you to leave him, once you do that, Quatre can die in peace. Which in the end, is all he ever really wanted to do in the first place.

"So you have two options, either let him wake up tomorrow and kill himself, or let him wake up tomorrow so you can force yourself on him and destroy yourself along with him. There aren't any others; eventually they'll all come back down to these two. If he hadn't given up.if he'd only held out a little longer. I'm sorry Trowa, I'm so very sorry."

The tears came again, and Corinne sunk to her knees, wrapping her arms about her slight body and weeping, crying for Quatre's lost soul.

Trowa stood stock still, no muscle in his body moved. This couldn't be happening. Quatre couldn't possibly want him too-it was insane! No person could ever wish that! But wasn't it obvious now that Quatre was insane, that he was sick, too sick to ever be fixed. NO! He couldn't believe that, he wouldn't give up on his lover so easily, Quatre wouldn't give up on him; he hadn't. All those years ago, when Quatre had waited patiently to bring him back from the brink. Every time he'd slipped, every time the memories of the past had jumped out, frightened him, caused him to push Quatre away in sudden fear and revulsion, Quatre had calmly waited for the memories to recede before gathering him into his arms and promising forever and safety. Quatre never complained that it was too hard, or that there wasn't a way, he'd never given up; and neither would Trowa!

"No Corinne, I won't accept that. There has to be another way. Some part of Quatre knows I love him, recognizes that I can take care of him and love him the way he needs to be loved, the way he hasn't been in all these years. We need to find it. And if there isn't a way, if there's no other solution, then we already know what the answer will be."

"Trowa, you can't. Corinne's right, you'd eventually grow to hate Quatre for making you do it. You'd be killing yourself and Quatre."

"It doesn't matter Heero. Either way, I'll die, either way, so will Quatre. But I'll stall for as long as I can. Maybe with enough counseling, for the both of us, we'll be able to work it out." But he wasn't convinced, he knew in his heart that Corinne's assessment of the situation was correct, if Trowa did force Quatre he didn't know if he'd ever be able to forgive his smaller and more delicate lover. But he had to take the chance, because it was better that he suffer than Quatre, because he loved Quatre more than life, more than death. He was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to love him, exactly what Quatre needed him to do. Trowa would not fail him.

"Trowa, be reasonable! If you rape Quatre, who's to say he'll still want to be with you when it's over?! He might really hate you after that."

But the shaking of Corinne's head stalled his answer, "No, Quatre wants to be controlled, that's what he's looking for. He's tired of being the one in charge. When he was with Koeran, Koeran was the one that led Quatre, he was the one that did romantic things for him. Koeran took care of Quatre. We've only seen the strong Quatre, the one that fought in a war as a boy soldier of great prowls and skill, but he isn't like that at all. The tortures of his childhood have forced him to pretend to be strong, but in reality he isn't. He's had to pretend for so long he doesn't know how not too anymore. But if Trowa can dominate him like that, in that way, then his mind will recognize that Trowa really is stronger, really is the one that will be the giver, from now on. It's what he needs, to be cared for. He won't resist Trowa after that, he'll revel in the feeling of being cared for. That's all that will matter to him."

Duo tried to protest, but Wufei's gentle grip forced the braided pilot to collapse into the Chinese man's arms instead; sobbing for his lost friend.

"Then that's it, we need to find another solution. Corinne, I won't accept that this is the end. Quatre has been through too much, lived through too much, to allow death to come for him like this. I won't let it end this way. Quatre is my responsibility, and I'll do just that, take the ultimate responsibility for him if I have too. We have to find another way."

Corinne looked at him for a long moment, neither agreeing nor not. Then finally, she nodded her head and stood. Approaching Quatre she knelt down next to him and took his limp hand. She closed her eyes, and with that, began her search to find an alternate method before Quatre awoke.

Softly Trowa settled into the chair and stared vacantly at his lover lying on the couch. He'd never looked so quiet, so dead. Tears fell from his eyes, but he didn't move to wipe them away. He watched Heero and Duo settle into another chair, while Wufei walked to the com unit and called Sally. The night was going to be long, hopefully, it would bear fruit. If it didn't he knew what he had to do. He would not fail Quatre again.

* * *

Their room was dark, neither he nor Heero had bothered to turn the lights on. They lay on the bed together, neither sleeping, both thinking about the same thing, their best friends.

"What's going to happen Heero?" Duo's voice was small, like a child, and Heero tightened his grip around his delicate lover.

"With no alternatives, Trowa will force Quatre, turning himself into the very monster he feared as a child."

"Is he going to make it though alright?"

"Trowa?"

"Yeah."

"No."

Duo shuttered and tightened his grip around Heero's waist.

"Do you-do you think Trowa will eventually work through it? That he'll eventually be ok?" There was such hope in his voice, a pleading kind that didn't belong with the face before him.

"No."

"Oh God Heero, what are we going to do?!"

A deep and pain filled breath escaped him, "There isn't anything we can do. This is Trowa's decision. He has to do what he feels is right, he has to live by his emotions. He loves Quatre, more so than I think Quatre even loves him; he'll do whatever it takes to keep Quatre safe, regardless of what it does to himself."

"We're going to lose them both, aren't we?"

Heero didn't answer, instead he pulled Duo impossibly close, and held onto him as if he were a rock in the middle of a hurricane.

Right now, only thirty feet down the hallway, Trowa was committing the ultimate sin, and he was doing it to save his angel of mercy. Heero closed his eyes, not daring to think about it. When the time came, he'd do his best to pick-up the pieces of his best friend, until then all he could do was try and hold himself together, along with Duo, who like him, was in danger of losing his best friend. There seemed to be no hope whatsoever.

The tears slipped from his eyes and splashed quietly onto the pillow.

Silent tears for a silent man.