* * *
He felt a light presence in his mind before it disappeared. A while later, he opened his eyes to find himself on his back, naked in his bed. Trowa was watching him to his right.
Yawning, he stretched and smiled brightly at his lover. Vaguely he thought there was something he was supposed to remember, but he couldn't right now. All he saw was that Trowa was next to him-that Trowa was back.
He reached out a sleep heavy hand and touched it to Trowa's cheek. "Morning." Trowa nuzzled his hand, and Quatre felt the slight stubble there; he smiled to himself.
"Good morning, Quatre. Tell me how you feel."
He sighed, breathing oxygen into his lungs and hopefully his brain.
"I'm fine. When did you get home? I thought you and the others weren't going to get back until Friday?"
Trowa nodded. "We did get back on Friday. Today is Sunday. Some things have happened, and you slept through them. Also, Corinne has blocked some things from your conscious mind along with adding a few suggestions."
"Blocked? Suggestions?" He looked questioningly at Trowa. "She had to block something. Oh no, is everything alright? Are you alright?!" Panic raced through him as he attempted to sit up and examine his lover. But strong arms pushed him roughly back onto the bed. It was then that Quatre noticed that Trowa's expression had not changed since he'd woken up. He looked cold, not like he usually did when he watched Quatre awaken in the morning-more like how he looked to people outside of his comfort circle. Like Quatre was a stranger.
"Trowa?"
"Answer my question, Quatre. Do you trust me?"
His voice hadn't changed, and Quatre felt both sadness and triumph; he didn't know where the latter emotion came from. Shaking his head he opened his mouth to say yes, of course, but when he did, he said the one answer he didn't understand. "No."
For a moment he looked at Trowa, panic in his eyes. What was going on? Of course he trusted Trowa; he always had, always would. Trowa had proven himself, hadn't he? He thought he had, but Trowa said something about Corinne blocking something. What was she blocking? What had happened that was so terrible that his mind would tell him to say one thing, but his mouth would say another? Didn't he trust Trowa anymore?
"T-Trowa?"
"I love you, Quatre, and right now you can't understand that. But I'm going to show you, once and for all-prove it to you. Then your mind will finally understand that I will never betray you and that I will love you until the day I die, and beyond. I know you can't trust me right now, but try to remember this: I would never, ever hurt you if I could help it. Everything I do today will be because I love you. If you can't trust me, at least try to believe that."
His voice was cold, calculated and nothing like the voice of his lover. A great fear gripped Quatre's heart and refused to let go. The link was closed, most likely by Corinne. He fought against the barriers that kept it locked down, but he couldn't seem to find the strength to open it. Out of desperation he used words.
"Trowa, I don't understand. What's going on? You say it's Sunday, but last I knew it was only Thursday, and you were still in space. Now you say Corinne's done some blocking work on me, and I say I don't trust you even though I do, and now you're talking to me as if something terrible is about to happen. What's going on?"
Trowa shifted until he was leaning over him, his expression like stone. Quatre swallowed. Something didn't feel right about this. Why was he feeling this way? Why was he feeling fear?
"Quatre-"
And suddenly, Quatre knew. Trowa was going to do it wrong. His mind raced, and he tried to open the link, tried to make Trowa understand without words that this wasn't the way. The way to what, he didn't know.
But the link wouldn't open. It stubbornly refused to even crack a little, and Quatre realized that Corinne hadn't wanted him to feel anything from Trowa, to see only darkness. He shook his head no again, trying to express something that words couldn't.
"Trowa, please, listen to me."
"Do not struggle Quatre, it will only hurt more."
He stopped moving and stared into Trowa, his eyes pleading for his lover to understand what he could not, that this-whatever it was-wasn't going to work if he did it this way-what Trowa was going to do, he didn't know. He felt tears gather in his eyes, and for a moment, he watched a strange emotion flutter down Trowa's entire body. Quatre blinked, and the tears fell.
"It won't work this way, Trowa."
He didn't fully comprehend what he was saying, couldn't understand, but Trowa seemed to. His lover sat back and away from him, his gaze never wavering, never changing.
"I have to prove my love to you."
"Yes."
"This is the only way."
"This way will kill us both." He closed his eyes and gasped, shaking his head. He didn't understand. Didn't know what was going on or what he was saying. It was as if a part of him was speaking that had never done so, as if this new part was struggling against all the rest of his mind and body. He reached a hand out to Trowa's, taking the flesh, limp and cold, between his equally cold hands. He brought it to his chest, and laid Trowa's hand over his heart.
"Something-something isn't right. I can't-understand it-but it isn't right. But you know, Trowa. You understand. I have to tell you this, that whatever it is you're trying to do.it won't work-not this way; I don't know why, I just know it can't be this way. I don't even know what this way is, but Trowa.please."
And then Trowa was leaning over him, laying a light kiss on his upturned lips. When he pulled back, his expression was still stony, but there was something else there, something he couldn't place without aid from the link.
"Quatre, what do you need from me?"
He felt his mouth moving, felt words spill forth from his lips that he had no control over. They weren't his words, not what he wanted to say, but he couldn't stop them-wouldn't stop them; they were right. He closed his eyes tightly when he realized what he was saying.
"I need you to love me, Trowa. To search the unknown for me. To give what no one else will give. To sacrifice what no one else will ever have to. We make acquaintances and even friends in our lifetimes, and we ask them to give things to us, away from others-small things with little meaning. But you ask that we be together for eternity, and there is a heavy price for that. I'm not the person you thought I was. I'm not strong and brave. That's someone I created for you, for them, for everyone. But you want eternity, and as such, you have to be willing to see the real me; if you don't, it's a lie; it's what it has been up to this point. I need you to give me something, Trowa, something that tells me you love me, that you'll spend eternity with me; I need you to give me something, not take it away. If you take something away, you'll only kill us both."
Quatre opened his eyes after a few minutes, tears streaming down his face. He wanted to deny the words he'd said, promise Trowa that they weren't true, but he couldn't, they were true. He tried to struggle against himself, but there was no use; he couldn't do anymore. It was now up to Trowa now.
But Trowa didn't seem in any better shape than he was. Eyes closed, his expression had returned to its earlier stony form. It took a long time for Trowa to finally look at him, a long time for him to open his mouth to speak.
"Do you want me to fail, Quatre?"
He shook his head no, that he didn't, that he could never want Trowa to fail-to leave him. His mouth said otherwise.
"Yes."
Trowa closed his eyes again.
"Have I lost you before this has even begun?"
Finally his mind and body agreed on an answer.
"No, Trowa. I'm very sick right now, but this one thing will set us free if done right. I need you, but if you can't help me, if you can't save me from myself then no one can. I've placed everything I am into you, in a way, you are me-are everything I was before this all began. Only you can decide what I need. Only you have the ability to do so. You know me, Trowa. You alone love me more than anyone else; what do I need? Tell me what I need."
Tears streamed down his face. Trowa had to understand, had to see, had to try. He had to save them both. Silently he sobbed as Trowa continued to stare at him, watching his eyes release his pain through tears. Through it all, they never broke eye contact.
"I need to show you that I love you, that I'm willing to give up the one thing in the world that will hurt me the most to prove it, and at the same time, I need to prove to you that I can protect you."
"Yes."
"Quatre, I don't know how."
He sobbed loudly and clutched Trowa's hand to his heart more firmly. "Yes you do, Trowa, yes you do. You have to give me-give me the thing that hurt the most, not the thing that caused the most pain, but the thing that caused the most agony. You have to understand! Give me the thing-show me what hurt the most. What hurts more-pain or agony?"
And he saw it. The light entered Trowa's eyes suddenly, and his lover looked down at him and smiled for the first time. Quatre let out a short laugh but shook his head, needing Trowa to verbally say that he understood.
"Agony hurts more, Quatre. Like you, for me, agony hurt more than pain ever did."
"Yes, and what causes agony? Not pain. Pain will go away, it will disappear over time. What's the real agony of your past, the really emotional pain? Trowa!" His voice was desperate, crying out with his last bit of strength for his beloved to understand what even he still did not.
But Trowa didn't answer the question, only took his hand from Quatre's heart and ran it through his blonde hair instead. He leaned over him again and began to kiss him passionately, sweetly, hungrily, and patiently. He laid the gambit of his feelings on the table, laid them out for Quatre to see and experience without the use of the link. And kisses became touches as Trowa's hands explored the contours of his body. Stroke after fleeting, hard, scratching, stroke fell upon his skin, and Quatre could do little more than beg for more.
His body arched into Trowa's begging for more, demanding more. Quatre's hands scratched down Trowa's back, pulled at his hips for more contact, for understanding. But Trowa understood-just as his lover would always understand him.
With a strength that Trowa had never used in the bedroom before, he pinned Quatre to the mattress and pulled away to look into his eyes. There was love there-so much love and compassion, and yes, understanding.
"Trowa, I need-"
"I know what you need, Quatre. I've been your lover for over three years. I know what you like and what you don't like. I know what you can stand and what will push you over that edge. I know what hurts you and what brings you the most pleasure. I know all of these things, just as you know them all about me."
"Yes."
"Then I will give you pleasure, Quatre. I will bring you to that place where pleasure and pain meet but agony does not exist. And when I am finished bringing you ecstasy, I will show you what I lost all those years ago. I will show you later, not now, because here I will give you something to show my love, and later, I will prove it to you-and prove I can take care of you."
Quatre swallowed, his chest constricting as he watched Trowa, watched his lover, finally understand exactly what he needed. His breath was nothing more than gasps for air as he watched Trowa offer him a small smile before leaning down to kiss his throat.
Quatre threw his head back and moaned. He tried to reach up, to touch Trowa's chest, arms, back-it didn't matter-with his hands, but Trowa's own hands locked around his wrists, preventing him from moving. He struggled for a second more before relaxing as much as he could under Trowa's ministrations; Trowa would take care of him.
A warm pink tongue lavished his nipple, and he raised himself off the bed and called out his lover's name.
"Trowa!"
"This time is for you, Quatre. Let me love you-your body, your mind, your soul."
"Yes! Oh god, yes, Trowa."
He felt Trowa sweep his hands above his head and wrap his fingers around the beautiful design of the headboard. And then he pulled away from Quatre's body, pulled away to look at him, to see his eyes dilated with pleasure.
"Keep your hands there, Quatre. Do not move them. Understand?"
Quatre nodded dumbly. He'd do whatever Trowa wanted him too.
Then Trowa was trailing his long, rough fingers down pale smooth arms. Fingers danced around the cool wetness his earlier kisses had left, and Quatre shivered and threw his head from side to side. To not touch, to not feel-either physically or emotionally-Trowa's body and mind-it was something new, scary, and amazingly erotic.
He threw his head back and called out again as Trowa resumed his earlier explorations of his body using only his mouth. Quatre whimpered and struggled with himself to keep his hands where they were told to stay. He didn't dare speak.
Trowa's body was working its way down his own, and with every inch he moved lower, his stomach and then chest brushed against the hard erection that Quatre could not have stopped even if he'd wanted to. Trowa's mouth worked his flesh while his hands ran the sides of his body, fingernails scraping skin and adding pain to the mixture of sensations. Quatre gasped and moaned, begging loudly for Trowa to continue, to give him what he needed.
Then Trowa was at that place that had once connected him to the artificial womb he'd been created in. He remembered hating that small indentation in his skin, knowing it marked him for all time as nothing more than a creation. But Trowa didn't see it that way. Liquid heat firmly pressed inside, and Quatre jerked off the bed at the pleasure coursing through his body.
"Trowa!"
"Hush, Quatre. I'm not even close to being finished with you."
Quatre moaned again and couldn't help the escape of one of his hands to wrap into the hair of his beloved. But Trowa only chuckled and lifted away from him. He scooted up his feverish body and wrapped his hand about Quatre's only to once again make his fingers hold on to the railing there. He then looked down into his passion-glazed eyes and tisked, shaking his head.
"Now we have to start all over again, Quatre."
He moaned, and once again, Trowa started at his neck and laid warm, wet kisses down the front of his chest, fingers once again raking across his skin. The sensation was too much, so much more than he could stand. He lifted his hips and pushed up and into Trowa's stomach. Strong hands locked about his hips and held them to the bed, but Trowa's mouth never left the nipple he was currently revisiting.
"Not yet, Quatre, not yet."
Slowly, Trowa worked his way back to Quatre's navel, and all he could do was shake with need and moan for release. Talented hands held his hips with just enough pressure to bruise, and Quatre knew there would be marks all over his once pure body when this act was through. A distant part of his mind told him that this was the way it had to be.
He again felt Trowa's tongue thrust into that space, and he nearly screamed with the sensations. Again and again Trowa mimicked the future with his mouth, showing Quatre with precision what he could expect for later. He did little more than call out Trowa's name and do his best to keep his hands where they were suppose to be, knowing that should he slip, the torture would only begin again.
And then one of Trowa's hands was pushing his thighs apart while the other locked across his stomach, pushing his lower torso firmly into the bed. Quatre looked down into his lover's eyes, and Trowa looked up at him. Both were breathing heavily.
"Give me permission, Quatre. Tell me you want me."
"I want you, Trowa, I, need, you! Please!"
"Do not move your hands, Quatre, or we will begin this again. Understand?"
Quatre nodded furiously.
Slight male stubble rubbed against his erection as Trowa brushed his cheek along his length. Quatre strained against the arm that held his hips down and into place. He called with voice for Trowa to hurry-to save him. His lover obliged.
A cave of moist, searing heat surrounded him, and Quatre screamed his need again to hungry ears. With slow and deliberate pressure, Trowa worked his body to a fevered pitch. His tongue caressed the base of his length while gently Trowa opened his throat to accommodate. Desperately Quatre tried not to thrust forward, knowing somewhere in his desire-addled brain that he could hurt Trowa doing that.
Suddenly teeth scraped from base to tip, and Quatre's voice caught in mid scream. Head thrown back, he felt at once Trowa's hand digging into his thigh, and the cooler air surround his wet length before Trowa swallowed him again. His eyes rolled up into his head as the pressure his body felt became more and more intense. Trowa's hand reached up and firmly grasped the sack there, massaging its contents. Quatre gasped and cried out, desperately wanting to touch his beloved.
Sweat dripped from his body, and he continued to pant. He held his body as still as he could while Trowa worked him towards that place where pain and pleasure met. Fingers on his stomach dug painfully into his skin, and Quatre again began to beg his lover to end it. But Trowa wasn't finished yet.
Teeth and tongue began a merciless campaign against him. Tremors shook his body as it prepared for the culmination of all of Trowa's work. Gasping and panting, pleading and crying, Quatre begged Trowa, his body screaming for release. But again, Trowa only pulled him deeper, used more pressure, tightened his hand further.
Quatre was sobbing now. He needed Trowa so badly, needed him more than he'd ever known. Trowa was real, was lying on top of him, doing things to his body that no one else ever had and would ever be allowed to do. Trowa's body, his mind, knew how to take care of him, but would he?
And then Trowa lifted his mouth away, licking his lips and smiling brightly at him. Quatre moaned in protest and continued to beg with body and word. But Trowa shook his head.
"I will do this right, Quatre. I'll do right by you. Listen to my voice. Listen to me. One word, Quatre, one word will set us both free. You'll be confused, but try to remember, this pleasure you feel, this pain, I gave it to you, I delivered it to you. One word, and I'll do as you asked; I'll give you something from myself, from my past. One word, and I will show you my agony, and we will be set free. Listen carefully to me, Quatre. I will set you free."
Death. It could be the only thing Trowa was talking about. His mind cheered at the idea. Finally, he'd be able to rest. One last time with Trowa and then he'd be able to rest. But he didn't want rest, did he? He wanted Trowa, to be with him, to feel love and return it. Set free-what did he mean?
"Trowa?" His voice was still strained by his body's need, while his mind begged that Trowa make him understand that which was still a mystery to his waking mind.
But Trowa's mouth had returned, and Quatre was only able to slam his eyes closed against the exquisite torture. Trowa built the pressure up again, and Quatre strained against him, calling and crying out to him. And then he was there, that edge encompassing pure pain and pure pleasure. Trowa held him there, kept his body on the brink of something more amazing then what had come before. His body exhausted, every muscle strained against Trowa, every part of his body begging for release.
With his teeth, Trowa pulled his mouth up his length, scraping and rendering pain like never before. And then, his lips around the very tip of his manhood, Trowa spoke.
"Nanashi."
Quatre's world exploded into mental and physical pain and release. His body shuddered and shook as Trowa took all of his seed into him. His world exploded, and all that was left was blackness and pain, light and pleasure. He cried out Trowa's name, called to him. Trowa was there, his body resting above his.
With Quatre's release also came the word, Nanashi-the word that shattered the blocks Corinne had placed, the word that opened his mind back up to the things and events that had taken place over the two days he could not remember a moment ago. And with that knowledge came absolute rage.
Throwing his hands from their place above him, he grabbed for Trowa's shoulders and pushed him away.
"GET OFF ME!"
But Trowa had expected him, had expected his rage at being forced like this, subjected to this by a block and suggestion. He grabbed his wrists and slammed them next to his head. Now Trowa was leaning over him, his whole body towering over his own. Quatre struggled, using all of his strength to lift his hands from Trowa's bruising grip, but he couldn't, he wasn't strong enough. Panic laced through him.
"TROWA, GET THE FUCK OFF ME, NOW!"
Trowa didn't let go, didn't acknowledge he'd heard a word Quatre had literally screamed in his face. He held him still, by the wrists, his lower body pressed into his own. Quatre felt a wave of disgust wash over him as he felt Trowa's erection against his stomach.
"LET ME GO!"
Trowa shook his head, forced Quatre to watch as his head moved from side to side.
"This is what hurt the most, Quatre-"
"GET OFF ME!"
"This is what caused me the most agony-"
"I DON'T FUCKING CARE!"
"The rape was fleeting, it was only physical-"
"TROWA, LET GO!"
"But to have no control over myself or the situation-"
"I HATE YOU!"
".that hurt the most."
"GO TO HELL!"
"So I will show you my agony. I will become for just a moment-"
"LET ME GO!"
"The monster I swore I'd die before I ever became."
Quatre struggled against him, kicking out with his legs.
"I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS, TROWA, I'LL KILL YOU!"
"I'll take all your control away, so you can see what I'm willing to lose to be with you-"
"YOU BASTARD, GET OFF ME!"
"I'm in control now, Quatre. I will lose myself and gain the both of us. I will save us both. I will protect you, care for you-"
"TROWA!"
"I love you, Quatre."
And then it stopped. Every muscle in Quatre's body released, and he felt his mind shift incredibly. He gasped and closed his eyes against the pain.
Suddenly his mind seemed to open, and with a flash of light only he could see, the link opened, and there was Trowa. Trowa's mind, open and wide, inviting and protecting. One thought melted into another, and Quatre allowed Trowa's emotions to surround him, enveloping him in warmth and love. He felt his conscious mind meet his subconscious and merge, together as one after so many years.
Conflicting thoughts and theories came together and melded into one mind, one thought.after so long. Trowa's emotions beckoned to him, and he lifted his own mind to reach for Trowa's. Together their emotions merged-love and trust, hope and promise filtered together and fitted perfectly into the consciousness of one young man who had never really had them.
It continued for what seemed like forever though it lasted only a minute. Thoughts and feelings solidifying and stabilizing, never to be questioned again. He was finally whole.
Tears fell from his closed eyes, but he opened them when he felt Trowa's hands brush them from his face. With a watery smile he gazed at Trowa-at his salvation. So long alone, fearful and scared, now he was staring at his freedom, at his future.
"Trowa."
"I am here, Quatre. I will always be here."
He moved his released hand up and around Trowa's back, pulling his lover into him. This is where Trowa belonged; this is where they both did. The outside world was just that-outside-it didn't matter. Trowa mattered. Trowa was his future. He'd thought his sisters, his father-that they were important, that he had to care for them, but he was wrong. They weren't his responsibility anymore. No, his responsibility was to his family, and only Trowa was his family. His sisters were the past, Trowa was his future; Trowa was his family. Family would never betray him, never.
"I-I made a mistake-you are my family, Trowa. You are my family now-not my sisters.family will never betray me. You are my family, my partner, my lover. You are my future. Trowa."
He sobbed uncontrollably, the release of over a decade of pain far too much for his overtaxed body and mind. Trowa shifted, pulling Quatre over and drawing him tightly into his chest. He held him securely as he cried out his pain, letting it finally wash away from him, leaving room for the love the link was showing him. Trowa's love, his promises, his protection, filled the void that was left with light and hope-Quatre was finally free.
"You did it right, Trowa.you saved us both.you set us free."
A little while later, he fell asleep, his body exhausted beyond belief. His mind continued to do the self-sweep, removing things that didn't matter anymore, disregarding old pains and fears that no long applied thanks to Trowa.
A love pure enough to lose everything for.
A strength strong enough to protect with.
A trust true enough to stand tall.
A promise that only meant forever.
His heart and soul, mind and body, were finally one-free of pain and sadness; were finally whole. Trowa had done that, had saved him.
Trowa.
* * *
"Heero here."
"It's Trowa. It's finished. Meet me in my room. Bring the others."
"Understood. Trowa?"
"Yes."
"Are you alright?"
"."
He felt a light presence in his mind before it disappeared. A while later, he opened his eyes to find himself on his back, naked in his bed. Trowa was watching him to his right.
Yawning, he stretched and smiled brightly at his lover. Vaguely he thought there was something he was supposed to remember, but he couldn't right now. All he saw was that Trowa was next to him-that Trowa was back.
He reached out a sleep heavy hand and touched it to Trowa's cheek. "Morning." Trowa nuzzled his hand, and Quatre felt the slight stubble there; he smiled to himself.
"Good morning, Quatre. Tell me how you feel."
He sighed, breathing oxygen into his lungs and hopefully his brain.
"I'm fine. When did you get home? I thought you and the others weren't going to get back until Friday?"
Trowa nodded. "We did get back on Friday. Today is Sunday. Some things have happened, and you slept through them. Also, Corinne has blocked some things from your conscious mind along with adding a few suggestions."
"Blocked? Suggestions?" He looked questioningly at Trowa. "She had to block something. Oh no, is everything alright? Are you alright?!" Panic raced through him as he attempted to sit up and examine his lover. But strong arms pushed him roughly back onto the bed. It was then that Quatre noticed that Trowa's expression had not changed since he'd woken up. He looked cold, not like he usually did when he watched Quatre awaken in the morning-more like how he looked to people outside of his comfort circle. Like Quatre was a stranger.
"Trowa?"
"Answer my question, Quatre. Do you trust me?"
His voice hadn't changed, and Quatre felt both sadness and triumph; he didn't know where the latter emotion came from. Shaking his head he opened his mouth to say yes, of course, but when he did, he said the one answer he didn't understand. "No."
For a moment he looked at Trowa, panic in his eyes. What was going on? Of course he trusted Trowa; he always had, always would. Trowa had proven himself, hadn't he? He thought he had, but Trowa said something about Corinne blocking something. What was she blocking? What had happened that was so terrible that his mind would tell him to say one thing, but his mouth would say another? Didn't he trust Trowa anymore?
"T-Trowa?"
"I love you, Quatre, and right now you can't understand that. But I'm going to show you, once and for all-prove it to you. Then your mind will finally understand that I will never betray you and that I will love you until the day I die, and beyond. I know you can't trust me right now, but try to remember this: I would never, ever hurt you if I could help it. Everything I do today will be because I love you. If you can't trust me, at least try to believe that."
His voice was cold, calculated and nothing like the voice of his lover. A great fear gripped Quatre's heart and refused to let go. The link was closed, most likely by Corinne. He fought against the barriers that kept it locked down, but he couldn't seem to find the strength to open it. Out of desperation he used words.
"Trowa, I don't understand. What's going on? You say it's Sunday, but last I knew it was only Thursday, and you were still in space. Now you say Corinne's done some blocking work on me, and I say I don't trust you even though I do, and now you're talking to me as if something terrible is about to happen. What's going on?"
Trowa shifted until he was leaning over him, his expression like stone. Quatre swallowed. Something didn't feel right about this. Why was he feeling this way? Why was he feeling fear?
"Quatre-"
And suddenly, Quatre knew. Trowa was going to do it wrong. His mind raced, and he tried to open the link, tried to make Trowa understand without words that this wasn't the way. The way to what, he didn't know.
But the link wouldn't open. It stubbornly refused to even crack a little, and Quatre realized that Corinne hadn't wanted him to feel anything from Trowa, to see only darkness. He shook his head no again, trying to express something that words couldn't.
"Trowa, please, listen to me."
"Do not struggle Quatre, it will only hurt more."
He stopped moving and stared into Trowa, his eyes pleading for his lover to understand what he could not, that this-whatever it was-wasn't going to work if he did it this way-what Trowa was going to do, he didn't know. He felt tears gather in his eyes, and for a moment, he watched a strange emotion flutter down Trowa's entire body. Quatre blinked, and the tears fell.
"It won't work this way, Trowa."
He didn't fully comprehend what he was saying, couldn't understand, but Trowa seemed to. His lover sat back and away from him, his gaze never wavering, never changing.
"I have to prove my love to you."
"Yes."
"This is the only way."
"This way will kill us both." He closed his eyes and gasped, shaking his head. He didn't understand. Didn't know what was going on or what he was saying. It was as if a part of him was speaking that had never done so, as if this new part was struggling against all the rest of his mind and body. He reached a hand out to Trowa's, taking the flesh, limp and cold, between his equally cold hands. He brought it to his chest, and laid Trowa's hand over his heart.
"Something-something isn't right. I can't-understand it-but it isn't right. But you know, Trowa. You understand. I have to tell you this, that whatever it is you're trying to do.it won't work-not this way; I don't know why, I just know it can't be this way. I don't even know what this way is, but Trowa.please."
And then Trowa was leaning over him, laying a light kiss on his upturned lips. When he pulled back, his expression was still stony, but there was something else there, something he couldn't place without aid from the link.
"Quatre, what do you need from me?"
He felt his mouth moving, felt words spill forth from his lips that he had no control over. They weren't his words, not what he wanted to say, but he couldn't stop them-wouldn't stop them; they were right. He closed his eyes tightly when he realized what he was saying.
"I need you to love me, Trowa. To search the unknown for me. To give what no one else will give. To sacrifice what no one else will ever have to. We make acquaintances and even friends in our lifetimes, and we ask them to give things to us, away from others-small things with little meaning. But you ask that we be together for eternity, and there is a heavy price for that. I'm not the person you thought I was. I'm not strong and brave. That's someone I created for you, for them, for everyone. But you want eternity, and as such, you have to be willing to see the real me; if you don't, it's a lie; it's what it has been up to this point. I need you to give me something, Trowa, something that tells me you love me, that you'll spend eternity with me; I need you to give me something, not take it away. If you take something away, you'll only kill us both."
Quatre opened his eyes after a few minutes, tears streaming down his face. He wanted to deny the words he'd said, promise Trowa that they weren't true, but he couldn't, they were true. He tried to struggle against himself, but there was no use; he couldn't do anymore. It was now up to Trowa now.
But Trowa didn't seem in any better shape than he was. Eyes closed, his expression had returned to its earlier stony form. It took a long time for Trowa to finally look at him, a long time for him to open his mouth to speak.
"Do you want me to fail, Quatre?"
He shook his head no, that he didn't, that he could never want Trowa to fail-to leave him. His mouth said otherwise.
"Yes."
Trowa closed his eyes again.
"Have I lost you before this has even begun?"
Finally his mind and body agreed on an answer.
"No, Trowa. I'm very sick right now, but this one thing will set us free if done right. I need you, but if you can't help me, if you can't save me from myself then no one can. I've placed everything I am into you, in a way, you are me-are everything I was before this all began. Only you can decide what I need. Only you have the ability to do so. You know me, Trowa. You alone love me more than anyone else; what do I need? Tell me what I need."
Tears streamed down his face. Trowa had to understand, had to see, had to try. He had to save them both. Silently he sobbed as Trowa continued to stare at him, watching his eyes release his pain through tears. Through it all, they never broke eye contact.
"I need to show you that I love you, that I'm willing to give up the one thing in the world that will hurt me the most to prove it, and at the same time, I need to prove to you that I can protect you."
"Yes."
"Quatre, I don't know how."
He sobbed loudly and clutched Trowa's hand to his heart more firmly. "Yes you do, Trowa, yes you do. You have to give me-give me the thing that hurt the most, not the thing that caused the most pain, but the thing that caused the most agony. You have to understand! Give me the thing-show me what hurt the most. What hurts more-pain or agony?"
And he saw it. The light entered Trowa's eyes suddenly, and his lover looked down at him and smiled for the first time. Quatre let out a short laugh but shook his head, needing Trowa to verbally say that he understood.
"Agony hurts more, Quatre. Like you, for me, agony hurt more than pain ever did."
"Yes, and what causes agony? Not pain. Pain will go away, it will disappear over time. What's the real agony of your past, the really emotional pain? Trowa!" His voice was desperate, crying out with his last bit of strength for his beloved to understand what even he still did not.
But Trowa didn't answer the question, only took his hand from Quatre's heart and ran it through his blonde hair instead. He leaned over him again and began to kiss him passionately, sweetly, hungrily, and patiently. He laid the gambit of his feelings on the table, laid them out for Quatre to see and experience without the use of the link. And kisses became touches as Trowa's hands explored the contours of his body. Stroke after fleeting, hard, scratching, stroke fell upon his skin, and Quatre could do little more than beg for more.
His body arched into Trowa's begging for more, demanding more. Quatre's hands scratched down Trowa's back, pulled at his hips for more contact, for understanding. But Trowa understood-just as his lover would always understand him.
With a strength that Trowa had never used in the bedroom before, he pinned Quatre to the mattress and pulled away to look into his eyes. There was love there-so much love and compassion, and yes, understanding.
"Trowa, I need-"
"I know what you need, Quatre. I've been your lover for over three years. I know what you like and what you don't like. I know what you can stand and what will push you over that edge. I know what hurts you and what brings you the most pleasure. I know all of these things, just as you know them all about me."
"Yes."
"Then I will give you pleasure, Quatre. I will bring you to that place where pleasure and pain meet but agony does not exist. And when I am finished bringing you ecstasy, I will show you what I lost all those years ago. I will show you later, not now, because here I will give you something to show my love, and later, I will prove it to you-and prove I can take care of you."
Quatre swallowed, his chest constricting as he watched Trowa, watched his lover, finally understand exactly what he needed. His breath was nothing more than gasps for air as he watched Trowa offer him a small smile before leaning down to kiss his throat.
Quatre threw his head back and moaned. He tried to reach up, to touch Trowa's chest, arms, back-it didn't matter-with his hands, but Trowa's own hands locked around his wrists, preventing him from moving. He struggled for a second more before relaxing as much as he could under Trowa's ministrations; Trowa would take care of him.
A warm pink tongue lavished his nipple, and he raised himself off the bed and called out his lover's name.
"Trowa!"
"This time is for you, Quatre. Let me love you-your body, your mind, your soul."
"Yes! Oh god, yes, Trowa."
He felt Trowa sweep his hands above his head and wrap his fingers around the beautiful design of the headboard. And then he pulled away from Quatre's body, pulled away to look at him, to see his eyes dilated with pleasure.
"Keep your hands there, Quatre. Do not move them. Understand?"
Quatre nodded dumbly. He'd do whatever Trowa wanted him too.
Then Trowa was trailing his long, rough fingers down pale smooth arms. Fingers danced around the cool wetness his earlier kisses had left, and Quatre shivered and threw his head from side to side. To not touch, to not feel-either physically or emotionally-Trowa's body and mind-it was something new, scary, and amazingly erotic.
He threw his head back and called out again as Trowa resumed his earlier explorations of his body using only his mouth. Quatre whimpered and struggled with himself to keep his hands where they were told to stay. He didn't dare speak.
Trowa's body was working its way down his own, and with every inch he moved lower, his stomach and then chest brushed against the hard erection that Quatre could not have stopped even if he'd wanted to. Trowa's mouth worked his flesh while his hands ran the sides of his body, fingernails scraping skin and adding pain to the mixture of sensations. Quatre gasped and moaned, begging loudly for Trowa to continue, to give him what he needed.
Then Trowa was at that place that had once connected him to the artificial womb he'd been created in. He remembered hating that small indentation in his skin, knowing it marked him for all time as nothing more than a creation. But Trowa didn't see it that way. Liquid heat firmly pressed inside, and Quatre jerked off the bed at the pleasure coursing through his body.
"Trowa!"
"Hush, Quatre. I'm not even close to being finished with you."
Quatre moaned again and couldn't help the escape of one of his hands to wrap into the hair of his beloved. But Trowa only chuckled and lifted away from him. He scooted up his feverish body and wrapped his hand about Quatre's only to once again make his fingers hold on to the railing there. He then looked down into his passion-glazed eyes and tisked, shaking his head.
"Now we have to start all over again, Quatre."
He moaned, and once again, Trowa started at his neck and laid warm, wet kisses down the front of his chest, fingers once again raking across his skin. The sensation was too much, so much more than he could stand. He lifted his hips and pushed up and into Trowa's stomach. Strong hands locked about his hips and held them to the bed, but Trowa's mouth never left the nipple he was currently revisiting.
"Not yet, Quatre, not yet."
Slowly, Trowa worked his way back to Quatre's navel, and all he could do was shake with need and moan for release. Talented hands held his hips with just enough pressure to bruise, and Quatre knew there would be marks all over his once pure body when this act was through. A distant part of his mind told him that this was the way it had to be.
He again felt Trowa's tongue thrust into that space, and he nearly screamed with the sensations. Again and again Trowa mimicked the future with his mouth, showing Quatre with precision what he could expect for later. He did little more than call out Trowa's name and do his best to keep his hands where they were suppose to be, knowing that should he slip, the torture would only begin again.
And then one of Trowa's hands was pushing his thighs apart while the other locked across his stomach, pushing his lower torso firmly into the bed. Quatre looked down into his lover's eyes, and Trowa looked up at him. Both were breathing heavily.
"Give me permission, Quatre. Tell me you want me."
"I want you, Trowa, I, need, you! Please!"
"Do not move your hands, Quatre, or we will begin this again. Understand?"
Quatre nodded furiously.
Slight male stubble rubbed against his erection as Trowa brushed his cheek along his length. Quatre strained against the arm that held his hips down and into place. He called with voice for Trowa to hurry-to save him. His lover obliged.
A cave of moist, searing heat surrounded him, and Quatre screamed his need again to hungry ears. With slow and deliberate pressure, Trowa worked his body to a fevered pitch. His tongue caressed the base of his length while gently Trowa opened his throat to accommodate. Desperately Quatre tried not to thrust forward, knowing somewhere in his desire-addled brain that he could hurt Trowa doing that.
Suddenly teeth scraped from base to tip, and Quatre's voice caught in mid scream. Head thrown back, he felt at once Trowa's hand digging into his thigh, and the cooler air surround his wet length before Trowa swallowed him again. His eyes rolled up into his head as the pressure his body felt became more and more intense. Trowa's hand reached up and firmly grasped the sack there, massaging its contents. Quatre gasped and cried out, desperately wanting to touch his beloved.
Sweat dripped from his body, and he continued to pant. He held his body as still as he could while Trowa worked him towards that place where pain and pleasure met. Fingers on his stomach dug painfully into his skin, and Quatre again began to beg his lover to end it. But Trowa wasn't finished yet.
Teeth and tongue began a merciless campaign against him. Tremors shook his body as it prepared for the culmination of all of Trowa's work. Gasping and panting, pleading and crying, Quatre begged Trowa, his body screaming for release. But again, Trowa only pulled him deeper, used more pressure, tightened his hand further.
Quatre was sobbing now. He needed Trowa so badly, needed him more than he'd ever known. Trowa was real, was lying on top of him, doing things to his body that no one else ever had and would ever be allowed to do. Trowa's body, his mind, knew how to take care of him, but would he?
And then Trowa lifted his mouth away, licking his lips and smiling brightly at him. Quatre moaned in protest and continued to beg with body and word. But Trowa shook his head.
"I will do this right, Quatre. I'll do right by you. Listen to my voice. Listen to me. One word, Quatre, one word will set us both free. You'll be confused, but try to remember, this pleasure you feel, this pain, I gave it to you, I delivered it to you. One word, and I'll do as you asked; I'll give you something from myself, from my past. One word, and I will show you my agony, and we will be set free. Listen carefully to me, Quatre. I will set you free."
Death. It could be the only thing Trowa was talking about. His mind cheered at the idea. Finally, he'd be able to rest. One last time with Trowa and then he'd be able to rest. But he didn't want rest, did he? He wanted Trowa, to be with him, to feel love and return it. Set free-what did he mean?
"Trowa?" His voice was still strained by his body's need, while his mind begged that Trowa make him understand that which was still a mystery to his waking mind.
But Trowa's mouth had returned, and Quatre was only able to slam his eyes closed against the exquisite torture. Trowa built the pressure up again, and Quatre strained against him, calling and crying out to him. And then he was there, that edge encompassing pure pain and pure pleasure. Trowa held him there, kept his body on the brink of something more amazing then what had come before. His body exhausted, every muscle strained against Trowa, every part of his body begging for release.
With his teeth, Trowa pulled his mouth up his length, scraping and rendering pain like never before. And then, his lips around the very tip of his manhood, Trowa spoke.
"Nanashi."
Quatre's world exploded into mental and physical pain and release. His body shuddered and shook as Trowa took all of his seed into him. His world exploded, and all that was left was blackness and pain, light and pleasure. He cried out Trowa's name, called to him. Trowa was there, his body resting above his.
With Quatre's release also came the word, Nanashi-the word that shattered the blocks Corinne had placed, the word that opened his mind back up to the things and events that had taken place over the two days he could not remember a moment ago. And with that knowledge came absolute rage.
Throwing his hands from their place above him, he grabbed for Trowa's shoulders and pushed him away.
"GET OFF ME!"
But Trowa had expected him, had expected his rage at being forced like this, subjected to this by a block and suggestion. He grabbed his wrists and slammed them next to his head. Now Trowa was leaning over him, his whole body towering over his own. Quatre struggled, using all of his strength to lift his hands from Trowa's bruising grip, but he couldn't, he wasn't strong enough. Panic laced through him.
"TROWA, GET THE FUCK OFF ME, NOW!"
Trowa didn't let go, didn't acknowledge he'd heard a word Quatre had literally screamed in his face. He held him still, by the wrists, his lower body pressed into his own. Quatre felt a wave of disgust wash over him as he felt Trowa's erection against his stomach.
"LET ME GO!"
Trowa shook his head, forced Quatre to watch as his head moved from side to side.
"This is what hurt the most, Quatre-"
"GET OFF ME!"
"This is what caused me the most agony-"
"I DON'T FUCKING CARE!"
"The rape was fleeting, it was only physical-"
"TROWA, LET GO!"
"But to have no control over myself or the situation-"
"I HATE YOU!"
".that hurt the most."
"GO TO HELL!"
"So I will show you my agony. I will become for just a moment-"
"LET ME GO!"
"The monster I swore I'd die before I ever became."
Quatre struggled against him, kicking out with his legs.
"I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS, TROWA, I'LL KILL YOU!"
"I'll take all your control away, so you can see what I'm willing to lose to be with you-"
"YOU BASTARD, GET OFF ME!"
"I'm in control now, Quatre. I will lose myself and gain the both of us. I will save us both. I will protect you, care for you-"
"TROWA!"
"I love you, Quatre."
And then it stopped. Every muscle in Quatre's body released, and he felt his mind shift incredibly. He gasped and closed his eyes against the pain.
Suddenly his mind seemed to open, and with a flash of light only he could see, the link opened, and there was Trowa. Trowa's mind, open and wide, inviting and protecting. One thought melted into another, and Quatre allowed Trowa's emotions to surround him, enveloping him in warmth and love. He felt his conscious mind meet his subconscious and merge, together as one after so many years.
Conflicting thoughts and theories came together and melded into one mind, one thought.after so long. Trowa's emotions beckoned to him, and he lifted his own mind to reach for Trowa's. Together their emotions merged-love and trust, hope and promise filtered together and fitted perfectly into the consciousness of one young man who had never really had them.
It continued for what seemed like forever though it lasted only a minute. Thoughts and feelings solidifying and stabilizing, never to be questioned again. He was finally whole.
Tears fell from his closed eyes, but he opened them when he felt Trowa's hands brush them from his face. With a watery smile he gazed at Trowa-at his salvation. So long alone, fearful and scared, now he was staring at his freedom, at his future.
"Trowa."
"I am here, Quatre. I will always be here."
He moved his released hand up and around Trowa's back, pulling his lover into him. This is where Trowa belonged; this is where they both did. The outside world was just that-outside-it didn't matter. Trowa mattered. Trowa was his future. He'd thought his sisters, his father-that they were important, that he had to care for them, but he was wrong. They weren't his responsibility anymore. No, his responsibility was to his family, and only Trowa was his family. His sisters were the past, Trowa was his future; Trowa was his family. Family would never betray him, never.
"I-I made a mistake-you are my family, Trowa. You are my family now-not my sisters.family will never betray me. You are my family, my partner, my lover. You are my future. Trowa."
He sobbed uncontrollably, the release of over a decade of pain far too much for his overtaxed body and mind. Trowa shifted, pulling Quatre over and drawing him tightly into his chest. He held him securely as he cried out his pain, letting it finally wash away from him, leaving room for the love the link was showing him. Trowa's love, his promises, his protection, filled the void that was left with light and hope-Quatre was finally free.
"You did it right, Trowa.you saved us both.you set us free."
A little while later, he fell asleep, his body exhausted beyond belief. His mind continued to do the self-sweep, removing things that didn't matter anymore, disregarding old pains and fears that no long applied thanks to Trowa.
A love pure enough to lose everything for.
A strength strong enough to protect with.
A trust true enough to stand tall.
A promise that only meant forever.
His heart and soul, mind and body, were finally one-free of pain and sadness; were finally whole. Trowa had done that, had saved him.
Trowa.
* * *
"Heero here."
"It's Trowa. It's finished. Meet me in my room. Bring the others."
"Understood. Trowa?"
"Yes."
"Are you alright?"
"."