Chapter 11

Rashid had been discussing Quatre with Master Habsaba for hours now, trying to decipher the strange emotions he felt concerning the boy.

"I am sorry, Master. I cannot help but feel…jealous of their closeness."

Habsaba smiled softly to the younger man. "Rashid, it is never easy to understand the mind of one so young as Quatre. You are many ages apart, and it is understandable that he would seek Abdule's approval and companionship. But I do not sense that Quatre's understanding wavers. He knows you are his Teacher. Abdule, he recognizes as peer to him, no matter what the difference in their learned levels of Recruit. He is a boy with little knowledge of human behavior and so immediately seeks the companionship of those like him, in age if nothing more."

"I know this Master. I did not expect this to be as difficult as it has become."

"Rashid," rising from his chair with difficulty, Habsaba moved, placing a comforting hand on his once Recruit's shoulder. "He will not be like you. The bond between the two of you will grow with time. He will accept you."

Turning quickly, Rashid covered his Master's hand. "Habsaba, I did not mean--"

"Of course you didn't. But listen to me, Rashid. Quatre feels in ways you've only understood through witnessed events and books. You understand how to control his abilities in a very basic way, but once he begins to understand them on his own you will not be able to manipulate him as you have. Then you will see. He will bond with you, Rashid, perhaps stronger than any Recruit ever has in our ranks. The connection will come, with time." Slowly, Rashid helped his master back to the comfortable chair in the fire lit room.

Kneeling down, Rashid addressed his Master with regret. "I will eternally be sorry for our time together, Master. I--"

"No, Rashid, you must never say that. Ours was not a healthy match. Many times I wished another would approach and call The Rite of Placement, but none did, and so your early years were harder than they should have been. But you are stronger for them now. Every moment of my life am I proud of you, proud to say you were my Recruit; no matter how we failed to find our way. But our trials will not be the same for you and Quatre. Your bond is strong with Abdule and together you will succeed where no others could. Remember what I told you, Rashid--Quatre must be handled with care. He is more than even you or I could ever hope to understand."

"But how do you know this?"

For a moment Habsaba was quiet, then he drew a deep breath and sighed. "I have seen many visions of Quatre and Trowa."

When Habsaba said no more, Rashid moved to prompt him.

"Habsa--"

"RASHID!" With a loud bang, the door burst open and a breathless Abdule stumbled in, his sides heaving from the strain on his body. Cheeks flushed, his Recruit painfully struggled to draw air into his lungs as Rashid quickly rose to his feet to go to his lover.

"Abdule, what is wrong? Where is Quatre?" There was a second of panic as he let his emotions cloud his judgment before he paused and regained his senses. Falling apart in front of Abdule would only serve to frighten his Recruit further.

Swallow after swallow impeded Abdule's ability to speak until finally he'd cleared his airway. "It's Quatre! He-he's sick!"

Rashid didn't need to hear anymore. With a stride as large as his giant frame, he moved quickly, leaving Abdule in Habsaba's care, his earlier conversation with his Teacher and Master now forgotten.

His race across the camp passed him in a blur, and he heard his name only to ignore it. This was twice now Quatre had needed him and twice he'd not been there. Rashid refused to allow Quatre to suffer the same fate he and his Teacher had.

At the keypad he punched in his code and stepped through into the hallway. He barely registered the tall form of Treize as he leaned against the wall, his body dominating that of a much smaller Wufei. He heard his name again, but moved ahead, brushing off Trieze's hand as the younger man tried to make him pause. He didn't even think about his code as he depressed the keys, all he needed to see was Quatre.

A moment later, Rashid rushed into the bedroom, only to discover the bed empty, the sheets ruffled and tossed about. Turning he moved towards the bathroom, but abandoned that space quickly as the lights were off and no one was inside. The living room was no different as he back-tracked, and Quatre's bedroom revealed nothing. He tried the main bathroom without success before moving to the only space he hadn't checked, the prayer room.

Inside he found Quatre, a blanket from the couch he hadn't noticed missing, wrapped around his slight frame. Inside the folds of fabric, Rashid watched Quatre tremble as he quickly approached the kneeling boy.

"Quatre, it is Rashid, can you hear me?" There was no response, and Rashid quickly moved to kneel in front of the shivering boy. He was stunned by what he saw. Though no sound came from his lips, Quatre was praying. Rashid watched the Arabic language move red lips and flushed cheeks, watched as brief glimpses of teeth showed in the words, or the slow hiss of labored breathing as Quatre struggled to take in oxygen. It didn't register that while Rashid knew Arabic as most Arabs did, this Arabic was archaic, the language making little sense even if cared to listen.

Carefully, Rashid reached his hand out to brush Quatre's shoulder--he received no response. Puzzled and beyond worried by the obvious fever the boy was running, Rashid decided on a new course of action.

Standing, he leaned over until he had his arms under Quatre's legs, then lifted him slowly off the ground. Shifting the boy into a more comfortable position, he left the prayer room and headed towards the bedroom, he met Abdule as the younger man was coming through the door.

"Rad, is he ok?" There was panic in Abdule's voice, but Rashid didn't have time to reassure him.

"Follow me." Together they entered the bedroom, and Rashid carefully peeled back the covers, placing Quatre inside and immediately bundling him tightly. Turning, he instructed Abdule. "Go into the bathroom and bring me back some cold, water-soaked, washcloths. Once that is done, I want you to take a hot shower, then eat something with protein. When finished, I want you to come straight to bed. With Quatre sick you will need your rest."

"But Rad--"

"Do as I have instructed, Abdule. You will most help Quatre if you are well." He knew his oldest Recruit followed the logic, it was written in the stubborn look in his eye.

"You can't handle him sick all on your own! It's taken both of us to deal with Quatre when he's well! Why won't you let me help you?" There was hurt in his voice, and Rashid had to school his features to keep from wincing at the pain in his lover's voice. How could he explain things to Abdule, the real fear and terror he had that Quatre wouldn't bond properly with him? That Abdule would somehow become the one Quatre went to when he needed someone? It was an irrational thought. He was not like his old Teacher, and Quatre was no where near like himself. But the fear would not stay away, and the adoring looks he'd watched Quatre send to Abdule twisted his heart with a strange kind of bitterness. He knew he had to get over these feelings quickly, before they destroyed any chance his new family had together.

"Abdule, I am trying to make Quatre understand that…he must come to realize that I am…it--"

"I know what you're not telling me, Rashid." The dark quality of Abdule's tone caught him off guard, as did the equally dark laugh that followed. "This isn't going to work is it? We're going to turn out just like all the others that tried two Recruits. We'll all end up hating each other--"

"NO! Abdule, that will not happen." Without pause, Rashid stood and moved to envelop his first Recruit. "I…admit it is hard for me when Quatre chooses your company repeatedly over my own, but I will adjust, as will Quatre. Something from my past concerns me, and it has me believing the past will repeat itself, but that will not happen. It is not something I wish to discuss now, but know that I am handling it, if not poorly. I am sorry I caused you to doubt me and our family."

Abdule sighted, leaning into his Teacher. "We're just closer in age, that's all, Rad. We just speak the same language. He's still so new at all of this that he hasn't figured out who's the boss yet, he will."

Rashid smiled for the first time in hours. "Perhaps you are right. Forgive me for being such a blind fool. Time will sort out our lives, now we must attend to Quatre…together." Rashid's heart lightened at Abdule's returning smile.

"Good, now that you're not being so pig headed about it, I'll go get the washcloths, you find another blanket, poor thing's still shivering like it isn't eighty degrees in here." That said, both men got to work.

* * *

It was five am the next morning when Rashid awoke to find Quatre missing. He'd let Abdule help tend to Quatre, but drew the line at his first Recruit sleeping beside his newest. There were too many germs that Quatre had no immunity to, and while he'd been inoculated when coming aboard the station, there was no telling what viruses Abdule was carrying that Quatre's already taxed system could not combat. It was bad enough Quatre had to sleep next to him, but there was no way Rashid was going to let go of the boy tonight.

Quatre had continued to shiver and shake well past the time Rashid finally fell asleep. The fever had worsened but hadn't become dangerous. He'd forgone Abdule's request to take Quatre to the infirmary, instead opting to see how the night went.

But as Rashid sat up and shifted out of bed, he wondered if he shouldn't have taken Quatre in the night before. With gentle pressure he awoke Abdule. When he was sure his lover was awake, Rashid stood, donned a robe, and checked the bathroom. Finding no sign of Quatre, he crossed paths with a now wide-awake Abdule, and together they moved to check the living room.

They found Quatre standing, with his back to them, in the middle of the living room--naked.

Scattered around him were his articles of clothing, loose cotton pants crumpled in disarray. Immediately, Rashid noticed Quatre's shaking form. As he watched silently, wave after wave of tremors raced through his body, and he could see the streams of sweat as they formed tributaries down his body. The carpet around Quatre's feet was discolored with the fluid, and Rashid knew Quatre had been standing in that one place for some time now.

But the frightening part was the boy's arms. They were moving. In stunned silence, Rashid and Abdule watched as Quatre's fingers moved over an imaginary violin. It was so intense, the movements of Quatre's emaciated body as it struggled to fight the fever and attack the mental cords of his desperate song.

He had not seen Quatre's face yet, but Rashid knew it would be tensed in complete concentration. He recalled that Quatre had commented on using his music to escape; now all Rashid had to do was call him back.

Slowly he stepped forward, wanting Quatre to notice his presence before he spoke to him. But the closer he got the faster he understood that Quatre was not sensing him. Now truly worried about Quatre, Rashid spoke for the first time to the boy.

"Quatre."

The reaction was immediate. In a flurry of movement, Quatre swung around, his eyes wild as they searched Rashid in a crazed manner. His body shifted into a crouch, his hands becoming like claws as they moved to poise in front of his body. The sweat continued to drip, the boy's damp hair making him look anything but human.

But the look lasted only a moment, before Quatre stood straight. His body began to transform from the wild boy to one of a well-disciplined heavily tutored young man. For a moment Rashid didn't understand the movement, but he finally recognized it as a bow when Quatre suddenly bent at the waist.

He tried to smile at Quatre, to dispel the boy's fears, but the look that Quatre's eyes held as he stood sent a spear of cold ice straight into his heart.

Fear.

"Hello, Father. Have you come to change me?" Quatre's voice was steady except for the slight chatter of his teeth, and again Rashid felt his heart wrench at the sight.

Grief stricken, he heard Abdule draw in breath, a slight sob catching in his throat, but as Abdule moved to touch Quatre, Rashid stopped him. In a quiet tone, he whispered. "Look at his eyes, Abdule, he does not know what he is saying." He watched carefully, as Abdule did as instructed and held back his own pain when Abdule understood.

Turning, he addressed Quatre. "Quatre, I am not your father, you know who I am. I am Rashid, your Teacher." His voice was soft and even, no fluctuations to alert Quatre.

But the blond shook his head. Eyes glazed he answered. "I'll pass this time, Father. Wait and see. I'm sure this test will be different. Please test me again, I promise I won't fail. I promise." The look in his eyes was crazed and for a moment Rashid feared Quatre would become agitated, but the boy simply stood there, neither saying another word nor moving.

Rashid tried again. "Quatre, I am not here to test you. Try to remember I am your Teacher, and you are aboard the Maguanac's station. Abdule is your fellow Recruit as well. Try to remember. I will not hurt you."

Again Quatre shook his head. "I'll pass this time, Father. Please, don't give up on me. I'm a good son, I am. Please, please test me again, I'll pass, Father, I'll pass!" There was such painful pleading in Quatre's voice then; it was too much for Abdule.

Moving before Rashid could stop him, Abdule approached Quatre. "Quatre, we're not going to hurt you. Everything's going to be ok--" The moment his hand touched Quatre's bare shoulder it was all over.

In a rush of arms and legs, Quatre was flailing wildly, his fingers like claws, attacking Abdule. The screaming was incredible. It was instinctual, as if coming from Quatre's very soul. The sound shook the walls, pounding into Rashid with the force of Mecha thruster engine.

Stepping forward, he grabbed Abdule by the shoulder and yanked him behind his massive frame, but still Quatre screamed. It didn't take long for him to decipher what Quatre was saying.

"EVILCHILDEVILCHILDEVILCHILDEVILCHILDEVILCHILD!"

Evil Child.

He didn't even know he'd done it until he had already accomplished the task. With reflexes borne from too long in the field, Rashid had grabbed Quatre, encircling the boy's waist with his massive arms. He wasn't prepared for what Quatre did, however.

He stopped. The screaming, the struggling, stopped; nothing but the chattering of his teeth and the constant tremors of his body. Now, frightened more than ever before, Rashid ran his large hands through Quatre's matted blond hair.

"Quatre, Young One, listen to me. I am not your father, and you are not an evil child. You are a warrior of Allah, a boy who will become a man, a defender of nations. Quatre, can you hear me?" But Quatre was silent, the chattering his only answer.

Finally, Rashid turned to Abdule. "Go quickly. Get Wufei and bring him here. I will try to cool Quatre's fever in the shower." When Abdule hesitate at leaving his brother, Rashid insisted. "Abdule go now!"

With infinite care, Rashid rose with Quatre tucked securely in his arms. He noted the sound of Abdule scrambling to his feet, the hiss of the hydraulic locks of the main door, but they passed as if in shadow. As he walked, he softly continued his talks to Quatre.

"You are sick right now, Quatre, ill from new germs. You must not panic. Remember I promised to care for you, to protect you. Young One, you will be all right. I know you do not feel well now, but be calm, you will feel better soon."

He threw the heat lamps on the moment he entered the bathroom. With strength and care, he shifted Quatre into one arm as he turned on the water, setting it to a cooler temperature. Carefully, he shifted Quatre from arm to arm as he removed the robe he'd hastily thrown on. That accomplished, he maneuvered them both into the shower.

Quatre's screaming took him completely by surprise.

The now wet boy was struggling, his mouth opened in a grotesque way as the sound of pain and terror flew from his lungs. Wet from sweat and water, Quatre slipped from Rashid's grip to land on his feet. Quickly, the boy moved, faster than Rashid could follow. He sense the huddled mass of Quatre quickly enough however.

Shivering and frightened, the water temperature more than he could bare, Quatre was pressed flush against Rashid's back, his hands tucked into the curve of his spine. Rashid couldn't help the breath he drew at the intimate contact.

Shaking his head in denial of his body's brief laps, he turned, leaning over Quatre in an attempt to shield him from the spray and gain his attention.

"Qua--" He didn't get a chance to finish.

As he'd turned, Quatre had looked up, and for the first time that night, there was recognition there. The boy's eyes were liquid ice, but they locked onto his and refused to let go. For a long breath they stared at each other, neither looking away, both recognizing and not recognizing the other. Finally, Quatre broke the contact.

With jerky movements and ragged breaths, Quatre stepped forward and into the arms Rashid didn't know he'd opened for the boy. In a silent prayer to Allah, Rashid wrapped Quatre securely against his frame and slowly turned them so that Quatre was once again immersed in the cooling spray. The boy's body jerked in response and his arms tighten-up closer to his body, but he did not cry out.

With patient hands, Rashid stroked the water through Quatre's hair, mindful of the tangles that had developed in his restless sleep. It took him a moment, but he finally realized that he was humming an old Arabic lullaby, and curiously, Quatre was humming it as well, their voices merging and resonating.

They were like this for longer than Rashid would have expected it to take Abdule to find Wufei. He began to worry, when Quatre suddenly shifted, his hands going to rest on Rashid's waist instead of against his stomach. There was a pause and then Quatre was looking up at him, a bit more sanity in his eyes. The boy tried twice to speak, but the trembling of his lips prevented it. Rashid knew Quatre's fever was high, too high to be even remotely considered healthy, and Quatre's tremors only furthered his fears.

Finally, Quatre managed three words, three small words that forever sealed the boy in Rashid's heart. They were whispers, but true to Quatre's very soul.

"Don't leave me."

Clutching the boy tightly, Rashid shook his head.

"I will never leave you, Quatre. You are the only one who will ever leave between us."

There was no nod, no mark of understanding, but Rashid felt that Quatre understood. His shaking continuing, Quatre rested his head against the bottom of Rashid's ribcage--the comfortable resting place for his head when he stood next to the giant--and sighed softly, doing his best to stay warm.

Rashid felt the pressure change of the room five minutes later when the door opened. Seconds later, the shower door opened, and Treize stood there, his arms holding open a towel to the water logged boy in his arms. Rashid raised an eyebrow at Treize's appearance over Abdule.

"Abdule had to find us. Wufei is currently tending to Trowa who has also become gravely ill. The whole camp knows about them now. I made Abdule stay in the infirmary with Master Habsaba and the others while I came to help you. How is he?"

Rashid shook his head. "Not well. He is running a very high fever and seems to be hallucinating."

Treize nodded. "Abdule said as much. Trowa's exhibiting the same signs. We need to get Quatre to Wufei immediately."

Both men in agreement, they wordlessly decided to pass Quatre to Treize--they might as well have handed the boy over to Satan himself.

"NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!" In a flurry of struggles and clawed movements, Quatre tried to tear himself from Treize's grasp, while the once aristocrat held strong and Rashid stood stunned. The boy's next words prompted Rashid into action. "NO! Rashid, don't leave me! I'll be good! I'll be good! Don't let Father take me back! Don't send me back to Father! Please!!!"

He had Quatre in his arms before the thought was complete.

"Hush, Quatre. Shhhh. You are safe. Hush Young One. Quatre, do not be afraid. I am here, shhhhhh." Quatre's reaction was immediate as he calmed down in Rashid's arms.

It was horrible, cruel and tyrannical of him, but as Quatre lay shivering in his arms, Rashid could not help but be pleased that the boy had called for him. He fought the swell of pride that diseased thought brought him and focused instead on stepping from the shower and calming the startled Treize.

"I told you, Quatre seems not to recognize his surroundings. Please bring me a pair of pants from the other room so we can take him to the infirmary and Wufei's care."

Ten minutes later, Rashid was carrying a shivering and unresponsive Quatre through the medical bay doors. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks.

On a bed across from him was the boy, Trowa. His body was nearly nude, pale and sickly, the track marks commented on before were now prominent against his skin. There was the hissing of the ventilator as it struggled to breathe for the boy, while IV's pumped liquids and medicines into his failing system.

Beside the boy, hands clasping one of Trowa's in a silent prayer, was Ralph. The man was large, tall and built, with a crop of dark brown hair and rugged handsome good looks. But now his face was drawn, the redness of his eyes attesting to forced back tears. His hands shook as they held Trowa's--the image of a Teacher faced with the possibility of losing his Recruit.

In a chair a good distance from Trowa's bed sat Master Habsaba. The old man sat with his eyes closed, his lips moving in a silent pray of his own. By his feet knelt Abdule, his lover's hand wrapped securely in his Master's. Abdule seemed to be transfixed on Trowa, his eyes following the slow rise and fall of the young man's chest.

Next to Abdule stood Zechs, and beside him was Heero. Duo was wrapped securely in Heero's arms, while the longhaired boy wore an expression of dawning horror.

The hiss of the door announced his presence and Wufei moved into his line of sight and immediately moved to examine Quatre. Rashid began to tell him all he knew.

"Quatre was fine this morning. Abdule took him to the hanger at about midday. By late afternoon, Quatre was running a high fever. I put him to bed, but woke up to him missing. He seems to be hallucinating, and his temperature is too high." So clinical, as if this boy was just another in a long line of sick boys. But Rashid prided himself on remaining calm, and as he watched Abdule's tear filled eyes, he knew he had no choice but to be strong.

Wufei nodded. "Trowa had the same symptoms earlier this evening. Put Quatre on that bed over there by Trowa's." Once Quatre was situated, and Wufei had attached an IV and other monitors, he continued. "The battery of tests I ran on both of them when they arrived showed that Trowa is in the advanced stages of AIDS. I began treatments on him immediately, but this is too soon. If he'd only gotten sick in a few weeks he'd stand a better chance, but his body is too weak from the virus, he can't handle the strain of an infection this soon. I'd assumed he'd gotten something from Quatre once I'd learned they'd been in contact only hours before he became sick, but now I'm convinced. Given time Trowa's immune system would have overcome the AIDS virus, but his body is too weak right now."

"AIDS," Rashid questioned. "Isn't that a dead virus?" A hundred and fifty years ago the French had found a way to combat the virus that threatened to overcome the human race.

Wufei nodded. "For the most part it is, but those not inoculated are still susceptible. The tests I ran on Trowa indicate he's got dozens of viruses that should be considered 'dead' in the medical books. Most I believe are from his weakened immune system, but some haven't been seen for the last fifty years. Duo made a suggestion and I agree. Trowa must have been using drugs to combat the pain from his illnesses, hence the track marks. But I found diluted remnants of REHIV in his system--the only anti-virus capable of destroying AIDS. The only thing I can think of is that he knew he was carrying the AIDS virus and was taking the anti-virus to cure himself. But either he didn't know the right dosage or he wasn't getting enough. The virus has nearly destroyed all of his white blood cells, I'm surprised he could walk." There was both awe and respect in Wufei's voice, and Rashid looked over at Ralph to reassure his friend; he stopped cold at the tear tracks down the man's face.

For a moment Ralph was silent, and out of respect the room followed his lead, when he spoke, they all felt the pain of his words.

"It's…a blood disease, AIDS. There are only a few ways to get it. I asked Trowa about the drugs, he didn't say much--he never does--only that he was careful. I didn't understand what he meant, but now I do, he was telling me and I didn't understand. He was saying he used a hypo-spray to take them. You can't get blood diseases from hypo-sprays. He's also too old to have been born with the virus. Do you know what that means? Do you!?" The agitation was clear in Ralph's voice, and Rashid immediately felt his pain. "Those bastards did this to him. One of those fuckers had the virus and they gave it to him. I kept trying to figure out why he was so quiet, why he did his best not to flinch whenever I raised my hand. When I offered him dinner, he looked at me like I was crazy, like he'd have to be half starving before he'd take it from me. But the other night he did, he was hungry, I could tell. He must have swallowed the whole thing in seconds, and his face, his face when I gave him more without comment, it was so painful to look at. He was afraid, I could see that, but also hungry. He ate it, and then went back into our tent. I finished with the dishes and followed him in a little later. I didn't understand, it's my fault because I didn't understand. He was sitting by my mat, just sitting there, calm and distant, this far away look in his eye, but he was tense, really frightened, but I didn't see that at the time. I didn't get it, I didn't understand what those mother-fuckers must have done to him for food. I called him over to the table and played a few hands of cards with him. Cards! How stupid could I have been? He's expecting me to take my fill of him, and I tell him we're going to play card! I'll kill them! I'll track those child-raping bastards down and kill them with my bare hands!"

Silently, Rashid moved to comfort his friend. "It is not our place to bring death under these circumstances. Allah would not wish us--"

"Where was Allah when they hurt him, Rashid!? Where was our God when Trowa forced himself to remain calm beneath them?! I believe, I do. But how, how can Allah allow this to happen!? I know what he's been through, Rashid, I know! I always hated Segucia for not seeking revenge for me."

Rashid winced at the painful way Ralph spoke of his now departed Teacher. He tried again to reach Ralph as Wufei began his examination of Quatre. "None of us know why Allah causes some to suffer while others live privileged lives. But Trowa is strong, how else would he have survived for so long. He is a gift, just as Quatre and all the other Recruits are. Allah has sent them to us to be cared for, loved. We must show them that the past is meaningless compared to the future. Trowa will always bare the scares of his past, but with your love and compassion they will lessen until the time comes when he does not flinch at your touch, or fear your motives at the table. Give it time, Ralph, Trowa will understand."

"And if he has no more time, Rashid. What then?"

Rashid shook his head. "You cannot think that way. Believe in Allah, believe in Trowa."

From behind him, muffled and tear soaked, he heard Duo's voice. "But the others, Rashid. The other two Recruits from our Recruitment. They didn't last a week either. They both died that very first week. What if--"

"That will not happen here!" He knew desperation rang in his voice, knew he'd startled and even scared a few in the room. If he were honest with himself, he was terrified. The memory of those two young men still fresh in his mind.

Daniel and Masako. They were young, both not even ten years old. They'd been chosen in the last round of recruitments, but neither had lived to meet the council. Some strange illness had attacked both of them from almost the moment they'd been accepted into the ranks. They'd died in comas, neither awakening to experience the freedom of the world they'd finally been granted. Wufei had somehow known the youngest, Daniel. The boy's death had touched him immensely, prompting the Chinese boy to continue his medical studies, completing a degree faster than most could have dreamed.

Their deaths had haunted the ranks for the five years until this last recruitment. Most were silent about it, the memory too painful to recall, but Duo, who liked children, had always harbored some guilt at not befriending the two before their deaths. To a certain extent the young man felt responsible.

Heero pulled Duo more tightly against his body, offering his lover comfort both from his musings and Rashid's harsh tone.

"Duo, I am sor--"

A sudden and terrifying whining sound pierced the air, and Rashid barely had time to turn before Wufei was pushing past him to get to Trowa's body. The boy was seizing, his body tossing from side to side, up and down. Moving quickly, Rashid grabbed onto Trowa's legs, while Ralph braced his arms and Wufei held his head.

To Rashid, the shaking seemed to last hours when in reality it was only a matter of seconds. But none of them were prepared for what happened next.

Trowa's heart stopped.

In the time it takes a thought to process Wufei was in action. Calling out orders across the room, he had Heero rushing the crash cart over to the bedside, while Duo ran for the medical cabinet in search of some desperately needed medical supplies. With insistent pulls, Rashid managed to drag Ralph away from Trowa's side, the man desperate to hold his Recruit to him.

Then, the unthinkable happened. For a moment, the room went silent as the tones issued forth from both monitors. A steady tone that accompanied no clicks or blips.

In transfixed terror, Rashid turned his eyes away from Trowa and toward Quatre. His Recruit's heart monitor had flatland as well.