Genre: Romance/Angst/Drama

Definite Romantic Pairings: Quatre/Trowa, Logan/Heero, Duo/Remy

Potential Pairings: Wufei/Pietro, Wufei/Pyro


"Ugh!" A pencil flew across the room, hitting the wall and rebounding off of it. Jamie levered himself off the ground slowly and trudged over, grumbling all the way about his long-division assignment.

Trowa bit the inside of his lip in irritation; really, was there some edict here against working in a calm, efficient, and above all quiet manner? Looking around, he saw that the others appeared as tense as he. Why in the world did the adults force all of the students to gather in the living room and do their homework together? It would be much quieter and easier for them to do it alone, in their room. Quatre caught his eye, tilting his head towards the door in a significant manner.

The former Heavyarms pilot glanced back down at his paper, finished his last (ridiculously easy) geometry problem, gathered his papers together, and left the room. Precisely fifty seconds later, Quatre followed. At intervals of fifty seconds, the last three left the room.

"We need to talk," Quatre said abruptly when all of them were there, his aquamarine eyes slightly glassy, as if he was ill with a fever.

"Yes," Heero added.


Quatre threw his head back and swallowed a tranquilizer pill, wiping his mouth and returning to wedge himself firmly against Trowa, saying gravely, "It's a Zero night." Heero looked at him sharply, grunting, "You, too?"

"Fuck!" Duo said eloquently.

"Don't panic," Wufei interjected, "There's a logical solution. Trowa can stay with Quatre, and Duo and I will watch Heero and make sure there's as little damage as possible." Duo sighed, "You're forgetting one thing, 'Fei: Usually it takes all of us to control the Zero System in Heero. I mean, Quatre's fairly easy to take care of; he doesn't have all that much of the System left in him, so it can be controlled against harming others, right?" He glanced at Quatre, who nodded, smiling wryly.

"Harming myself is another matter," the Arabian said, pulling up one of his sleeves to expose the long, scarred furrows in his arm. Trowa glanced at it with a deep sadness in his eyes, pressing a quick kiss to Quatre's hair as he said, "I am loath to use our 'powers.' They seem-"A heartbeat of silence. "-unnatural."

"And anyway, I doubt Zero cares too much about attacking us in order to keep us from using our powers," Duo said, grinning at Heero. "Sorry, buddy. But anyway, I think we need to ask Ororo and Logan to help. I don't think leaving Trowa alone with the System is a good idea, and leaving me and Wufei with it is asking for trouble."

"What if they ask about what is happening?" Heero broke in. "I am not going to tell them the truth." Wufei tacked on, "As horrifying as it is, I actually agree with Duo. We can simply tell them that it is not something we like to speak about. They seem to have too much of a moral code to press the issue."

"All right," Heero acquiesced. "Zero will take control at about eleven, if my estimation is correct."

"Have your estimations ever been incorrect?" Duo interrupted cheerfully.

"No, Duo. They have not. And you, Quatre?" The former Sandrock pilot broke away from his whispered conversation with Trowa, "Zero will take control of me at around ten-thirty. Ororo and Trowa will watch me. I'll be fine." Trowa looked at his lover dubiously and tightened his grip in worry.


"What's this about?" Logan said, amber-brown eyes scanning the room. Logan and Ororo sat on a couch in one of the small dens, facing the five new mutants. Ororo's eyes flickered immediately to where Trowa's long-fingered hand was wrapped possessively around Quatre's shoulder.

Duo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he explained in a sober tone, "Every so often, at irregular intervals, Quatre and Heero become- possessed, I suppose you could say, by an entity called Zero. During these times, Heero and Quatre are no longer in control of their bodies; when Zero controls Quatre, it tends to focus all of its rage and hatred inward, resulting in self-mutilation. When Zero controls Heero, it attempts to destroy everything around it. Usually protecting others from Zero requires all of us, but we're rather unlucky tonight. Quatre and Heero are both going to be possessed, and we are-" A slight grimace passed over his face at the uncustomary request, "-in need of your help. If Ororo could watch Quatre with Trowa that would be very helpful."

Quatre continued, "The Zero in me is generally not outwardly violent, but I do not trust it to be alone with Trowa. Heero-" he tilted his head toward the taciturn Japanese, who sat squished between Duo and Trowa, "-His Zero is incredibly violent. If it is not controlled by all of us, then it tends to become very… deadly. Wufei and Duo will not be able to control it alone, so it would be best for Logan to help." Duo shivered, a ripple passing over his skin as his eyes darkened in remembrance.

Thick, grainy smoke spiraled upward into the sky, the shadowy cloud blotting out the sun and leaving the barren wasteland in darkness. Sparks and flaming bits of paper flew about, lighting the gutted, hollow shell of the building. A hunched, twisted silhouette stood framed in the doorway, blood dripping from his curled fingers and a mad leer spread across his face, the flaming wasteland reflected in his dark, blood-crazed eyes.

"I will be possessed at approximately ten-thirty," Quatre said, "And Heero will be also possessed at eleven. So, will you two help us?"

"You had only to ask," the weather witch said serenely. Logan grunted assent, folding his arms across his chest.


Ororo sat ensconced in an old armchair in one of the attics, watching Quatre and Trowa converse in hurried tones. Her eyebrows beetled together in a frown of bemusement as she saw Trowa cup Quatre's face in his thin, long-fingered hands and lean in, the two sharing a long, gentle kiss, one of sorrow and love and respect.

"You are lovers?" Ororo said, nearly flinching away when two suspicious gazes flickered to her immediately. "Yes," Quatre allowed cautiously, wary. In their time, he had been ostracized and disowned by his sisters, since it was not possible for him to produce an heir to the sizable fortune. Trowa, thankfully, hadn't suffered that; Catherine, knowing the pain her adopted brother had already gone through, had accepted their relationship, happy that her brother had found some sort of peace.

Ororo smiled in an attempt to reassure them; of course, she thought, she couldn't guarantee that all of the mansion's inhabitants would be so accepting. Scott and Jean, in particular, were rather close-minded, as was Bobby. Quatre returned the smile reflexively, turning over the switchblade knife he used in his hands, his bare feet tucked underneath him and his arms exposed to the cool, musty air.

Ororo had been very surprised and saddened at the copious silver scarring that twisted around the pale skin; she had thought that Quatre was the well-adjusted of the five, but obviously he was not. 'Unless,' the pessimistic whisper in her head said, 'for them, this was well-adjusted.' "So, when Zero is in control of you," she ventured, "Are you aware of what is going on?" Trowa said nothing, as usual, standing up and wandering over to the small window.

"Yes," Quatre answered, "I am aware of everything, but I am unable to direct my body to do anything. I am somewhat able to modify Zero's impulse to attack everyone else, and focus it on me, but it is Zero who decided to begin the self-mutilation." He looked up at Trowa and reached for him with his empathy, sending a soothing pulse of love and warmth. It was always hard for Trowa to see him go under like this, and even harder when he began to carve his own flesh.

Trowa looked down at the moonlit lawn, the massive oak trees casting spindly shadows across the silvered grass. The group of four- Duo, Wufei, Heero, and Logan- stood, sat, or in Duo's case, lounged in the small wooden gazebo, their silhouettes standing out sharply against the moonlit ocean.

Quatre, behind him, said softly, "It's beginning." Trowa spun and crouched beside him, grasping his hand and watching as Quatre's head tipped back and his teeth clenched together, the corded sinews in his neck standing out in the dim gloom. Trowa stood and moved to sit in a chair beside Ororo, watching as Quatre's pupils dilated sharply, the aquamarine iris a thin ring around a dark, still pool of shadowed water.

A hoarse, dry laughter rang through the room, unnerving Ororo greatly as Quatre- no, not Quatre, Zero, she reminded herself- met her eyes, a smile on his face.

"So someone else is here to witness Quatre's purgatory? How fitting, lover." His gaze swung to Trowa, an insane light flickering in his eyes. "You are no lover of mine, Zero," Trowa ground out, naked pain in his emerald eyes.

Zero mused, "I am the one who nearly killed you. It would be so easy for me to finish the job."

"But you won't."

"No," Zero agreed grudgingly, "I won't- not now, at least. That silly little ninny you call a lover is urging me towards my goal, anyway, and I know that to harm your precious Quatre causes you more pain then anything else I could do."

Trowa nearly started from his chair but settled, his hands clamped white-knuckle-tight around the arms of the chair, splintering it. The switchblade flicked open, the steel blade shining in the light as Zero pressed the blade lightly to its own throat, teasingly opening a shallow cut down the jugular. Trowa calmed his breathing with an effort, his eyes narrow.

"Get on with it." Ororo stayed silent, watching the clash of two wills, and the agonizing emotional pain that was reflected in Trowa's eyes. So much pain, and he still forced himself to go through this for the sake of the one he loved. Such devotion, and it was repaid with threats of self-harm and suicide. What was Zero?

Zero smirked, moving the blade to its left arm. With surprising control, it pressed and dragged the blade upward, a thin, bubbling line of crimson left in the cruel knife's wake.

Drip, drip, drip…

The nearly-silent dripping of blood heralded the staining of the wooden floors, the blood puddling together in a macabre sort of embrace. Zero pressed the blade down into the artery, holding it steady as it met Trowa's resigned eyes, a vindictive glint in the former's gaze. "Life is so very fragile, is it not? It would be so easy to press this blade a millimeter deeper, and end the pathetic existence of one Quatre Raberba Winner." Zero's blond hair shimmered in the moonlight, the pale skin and silvered scars gleaming, outlined and limned by the dark, spreading stains of blood.

It reversed the blade and slashed across the biceps, exposing the reddish tint of muscle. Dark, arterial blood left the body with surprising rapidness, covering the pale, musician's hand with dark, liquid life.

Zero looked up, meeting Ororo's gaze viciously as it asked Quatre silently,

So easy to kill her, right, Little One? The endearment that Trowa used became a foul thing in the voice of the Zero System, a warped and twisted parody of affection.

It would be, Quatre said tiredly, But you won't do it. After all, you need a host.

But most of me is in the shadowed one, and I am taking over him, right about…

A silent bell tolled once-

Now.


Logan twitched as Heero threw his head back, his eyes rapidly becoming unfocused and his hands clawing at his own skin, opening up bleeding furrows. Heero's legs locked straight, the thick sinews of his neck standing out sharply as he inhaled sharply, twisted once, and lashed out, fastening his hands on the gazebo railing and staring out at the sea.

"Duo." The kid's voice was hoarse, tension and agony written in every tight line of his body. The braided man moved over and helped Heero to pull off his shirt- Logan was confused; what did removing clothing have to do with this?- while Wufei kept his gun steadily trained on Heero's head.

Logan fought down the urge to growl furiously at the thick tapestry of scarring and welts that covered every inch of Heero's back. Three cratered bullet exit wounds marred his right shoulder, and thick, black scarring traced its way along his spine, corded blue scars tracing the shadows of his ribs. Five dimpled bullet entry wounds were scattered across his lower back, a pink, deep wound stretching from his left hip to his right shoulder- a sword wound- and raised welts slashed their way all over his back, a few curving out of sight. A silver scar curled across his spine before disappearing into the thatch of dark sienna-brown hair- Logan squinted at the scar, lip lifting as he saw the wires that laid underneath the skin.

Heero bent nearly double, a pained grunt escaping as he hissed through his teeth, his head twisting to face the three watchers. Pupils dilated rapidly, drowning the dark, cold blue irises in void-like ebony. Lips peeled back from his teeth into a mad, vicious grin, back arching as he began to claw wildly at his back, ripping open scars and attempting to pull the wiring from underneath his skin.

"It's supposed to control Zero," Duo explained softly, perched on the railing with throwing knives ready. "It doesn't work, but that doesn't stop Zero from trying to rip it out."

Fingers crooked into a parody of claws as Heero twisted, cat-like, and threw himself at Duo, blood streaming in a mockery of wings from the torn back. Logan stepped forward and then stopped short, warned away by Wufei's glance.

'Really, who do these kids think they are?' Logan thought, disgruntled. Duo threw the knives away and brought his arm up, just in time to keep Zero from latching onto his face and tearing it with teeth and nails. Heero- no, it's Zero now- latched on, crouched, and twisted sharply, sending Duo over his shoulder and crashing into one of the wooden posts.

Wufei moved in, slashing across with his sword to warn Zero away from Duo. Zero, intent on finishing the braided man off, circled angrily, snarling incoherent epithets. Duo shook himself and got to his feet slowly, his eyes sorrowful. Wufei moved forward, allowing Duo to gather his throwing knives. Bent over, sliding the knives into their sheathes, Duo explained softly,

"We just need to distract him. It wants to destroy the nearest thing to it, and that is the Institute. You'd be surprised at how easy it would be for Zero to completely shred the building and all its inhabitants to pieces." He turned and sprang, grappling with Zero as he fell to the floor.

The two rolled across the wooden floor, their fists blurring as they punched each other savagely, clawing and tearing at each other's skin. Duo finally ended up on top, using his height and weight as leverage. Wufei moved in, leaped into the air, and landed, swiftly sliding the blade of his sword in between two of Heero's right ribs. Zero roared in pain, pinned to the floor by the sword. Red blood, overlaid with silver moonlight, gushed from the wound, spreading quickly.

Logan inhaled sharply, shocked at Wufei's ruthless impalement of his friend. Wufei, kneeling with one knee on Zero's chest to hold it down, said, "It's the only way I can hold him still. Zero has no care for its host; it will do anything, as long as the host does not-" Zero's left arm came up, bending unnaturally- Logan winced: it looked like Zero had broken its arm deliberately- and tangled in Wufei's shirt, wrenching him off and flinging him across the room as it rolled away from the sword, the shining blade tearing through bone and flesh and lung.

Wufei's head hit the side of the gazebo and he dropped, eyes blank and a contusion rapidly rising on the back of his head. His breathing slowed, and the Chinese young man lifted a shaking hand to touch his head, wincing.

Duo swore, which Logan swiftly echoed, recognizing the signs of a severe concussion.

"I have to take 'fei to get medical attention. D'ya think you can handle it?"

"Yeah, kid. I've dealt with a few crazies in my time-"

Zero's feral howls took on a new dimension, the breaths rattling and shaking in a horrid fashion, but Zero would not be stopped. It lunged, grasping at Logan, who roared,

"GO!"

Duo grabbed Wufei's sword in one arm and swooped, grasping the dazed mutant, leaping from the gazebo and sprinting across the lawn to the warm, welcoming lights of the Institute.

Logan dug his heels into the ground, his calloused hands curled around two that matched his in bruising strength. The two opponents struggled, their eyes locked, whisky-colored gaze meeting pitiless, inhuman blue. Zero said nothing, but continued its growls, suddenly pushing away and kicking sharply at Logan's ribcage, only to find its foot trapped between Logan's side and his arm.

The Canadian smirked and then ducked as Zero twisted, his other foot coming up to brain him in the side of the head. 'Jesus, you'd think Duo would have remembered to remove the kid's shoes,' Logan thought numbly, his head ringing. Zero wrenched free and grasped his arm, beginning to do the familiar twisting movement.

"Oh no you don't!" Logan dropped to the floor, digging his claws into the hard, cedar planking. Zero finished its movement and bent forward, ripping up Logan's claws(along with ten feet of boards) and flung him away from the gazebo, sending him sailing gaily over the edge of the cliff.

Logan's eyes widened as he fell, drawing back his arms and stabbing once, desperately, at the rock cliff face. The claws sunk and held, and as his feet crashed once against the rock, he skidded once and then stopped, dangling precariously above an overhang.

A roar alerted him; he looked up and swore, "SHIT!" Zero was throwing itself from outcropping to outcropping, the broken arm flapping painfully about as it landed just above him, baring its teeth in a feral grin of triumph. Logan glanced up at the top of the cliff, which was twenty feet above him. Practically an ocean away, when you had an insane and possibly murderous entity on your tail.

"Looks like we'll see who's better at rock climbing," he muttered, pulling back his claws and hauling himself up. Zero threw itself at him, only to miss when Logan twisted sharply and kicked, hitting Zero square in the bleeding gash through his lung. Zero's head snapped back as it fell, grasping onto the overhang and scuttling up the wall like a demented spider.

Logan turned away and began to scale the cliff, the muscles in his arms and back screaming as he hauled himself over the lip of the precipice. He heard the unnerving shriek of rage from below and leaped away from the cliff, turning to see Zero come over the edge, its eyes glowing in the darkness and teeth glinting in a mad grin.

"Logan!" He turned to see the other mutants(even Quatre, looking weary and pale) sprinting towards him. "Look out!" Duo yelled. He turned-

Something gleamed in the moonlight as Zero thrust it forward. He brought his claws up and felt the impact, amber-brown eyes widening in shock.

For there, glittering in the moonlight, trapped between the claws of his left hand, were three twisted, deformed, and cracked adamantium claws.