A/N: Italics signify a flashback. If you want to skip it, you can.

Highs and Lows

Quatre sat in the back of one of his smaller cars, a company employee in the driver's seat. Despite it being not yet noon, he had decided to cut his business meeting short after getting an e-mail from Duo. Quatre read it for a second time, utilizing his cell. The file was from Dr. Bohren, detailing PTSD and its main symptoms, which were 1) amnesia – partial or complete, 2) numbing – the inability to express or feel emotion, 3) flashbacks and spacing out – laps in attention or an inability to concentrate for long periods, and 4) depersonalization/derealization – the continuous feeling of not being in one's body and the feeling that one's surroundings aren't real respectively.

They had yet to discover if Harry had blocked any of his memories, but he'd already shown evidence of numbing when he'd withdrawn into himself those few days before the doctor's appointment. He'd evidenced flashbacks, although fortunately Harry showed no sign of impaired concentration while studying with Trowa, Wufei, and Duo. He'd also experienced derealization, where he'd felt like he'd wake up back at the Dursleys at any moment. Hopefully with treatment these symptoms would diminish.

Quatre didn't look up from his phone as the car stopped at the park entrance. He climbed out, grabbed his briefcase, and started toward the circus tents, his phone still in hand.

On top of PTSD, Dr. Bohren revealed that survivors of sexual abuse had to be monitored for other negative effects. Sleep disorders due to frequent nightmares, phobias and anxiety problems, habitual irrational guilt, sexual compulsions and dysfunctions, Borderline Personality Disorder (compulsively manipulative behavior and/or a complete inability to trust others), and self-destructive behavior (such as cutting, self-burning, severe nail-chewing, and eating disorders).

Of these, they knew Harry suffered from nightmares and irrational guilt. They would have to watch out for the others, especially the eating disorders and phobias. Harry might binge in remembrance of being starved or he might refuse food when stressed as a form of self-punishment.

Quatre had known recovery would be hard for Harry. The boy had been systematically and severely abused for years, if not his entire life. Four months in a good, supportive environment wasn't going to erase those effects on the child's mind or body. But it was disheartening that Harry would still suffer even after he'd been rescued. They wanted so much to protect him and make things better.

Lost in thought, he didn't call out as he walked into the pavilion as he normally did. Nor was he aware of the slight buzz of his empathy. Even when he had his strongest shields up, he still experienced some bleed through. Over the years he'd gotten used to ignoring it completely, so when he heard pans rattle in the kitchen and turned to see what had happened, he wasn't prepared for the sight that met him.

Quatre stood in shadow a few feet short of the doorway, staring at his two friends in profile. Duo looked to have slammed Heero back against the kitchen counter. Heero stood leaning slightly backward with his hands clenched around the edge of the counter. There was no expression on his face, but even without empathy Quatre would have felt the heat in his gaze.

"Come on, Hee-chan," Duo practically purred, deep and throaty. His hips swayed from side to side six inches in front of Heero's, as if inventing him to dance, tempting him forward. His waist-length braid followed the movement like a sensuous echo. "I know you can feel it. The excitement, the desire. It feels good, and I can make it feel so. much. better."

Duo's free hand slid across his hip, long fingers catching on his shirt as they skimmed up his stomach. Fair creamy skin, a low deep naval, and lean abs were revealed. This time Duo's hips did a slow, sinful roll forwards, just brushing Heero's obviously erect groin.

Quatre's heart beat rapidly in his chest as lust blurred his senses.

"Imagine what it'd feel like," Duo continued in that sexed out voice. "Fucking me hard. I'll be so tight and hot for you, Heero. My mouth on you would get you so wet that you'd slip right inside."

Heero was panting softly now, though he still hadn't made a move to accept or deny the offer.

Duo bent forward, putting his lips directly over Heero's. "Better yet, just let go, Hee-chan. I'll take care of you. I'll make you feel so good with my fingers, stretching you wide for me. You'll cum so hard, Heero, and I'll keep you cumming as I fuck you raw."

Quatre felt as if he were on fire! He'd never heard anyone talk like that in his life, and he didn't think he'd ever heard anything so dirty, so sexy.

Heero hissed loudly. Hands snapping forward, he grabbed Duo and spun him around. This time it was Duo who was slammed back-first against the counter with Heero pressed up against him. The pans rattled loudly again as Heero's hips snapped forward near violently. Quatre watched breathlessly as Duo's eyes widened and his head fell back with a low moan.

"Yes. God, yes, take me hard!" Duo yelled out with complete abandon as those hips snapped forward again and again.

Duo tangled a hand in Heero's hair as his other hand slipped between them, presumably to open their jeans. Heero's hips moved with rhythmic force, now sliding up and down as much as pushing forward. The pans jangled near constantly. Hard and fast and rough, Quatre could see Duo thrusting his hips to meet Heero's, adding to the already bruising force. Heero growled and bared his teeth, head forced back by Duo's grip on his hair.

"Wanna see you! Want your eyes on me when you cum! Fuck, yeah, like that, so fucking gorgeous!"

Heero barked out a cry. Duo watched, eyes devouring his face, and then he was screaming, arching back in a graceful line, his braid falling in a thick coil on the counter behind him.

Quatre jerked back as the crescendo of lust broke apart on a wave of euphoria. Legs turned to jelly, he staggered away from the forbidden and felt instantly ashamed. Using all his skill, nervous system soaked with adrenaline and second-hand endorphins, he crept from the pavilion in absolute silence.

Once outside, he stumbled into a run. Fierce joy cut through him and gave his feet wings. He was so glad that Duo might soon find someone to ease his loneliness; so glad Heero might have someone safe to release his pent up emotions with. They would make a good pair if only they let themselves.

Quatre ran until he burst from the park, breathing hard. He tried to clear his mind, to focus on the here and now, but all he could see was Duo and Heero, shameless and primal in their passion. He couldn't get it out of his head, and his thoughts turned to Trowa.

They'd been together almost a year. Sex had always been intense and mind-blowing, but it was controlled, too. Trowa never let go completely. Slow, thorough, intimate; he was a wonderful lover, but lately Quatre wanted something a little more. Maybe not all the time, but there was no denying it after what he'd witnessed. Trying to imagine Trowa like that… It was impossible. Whenever they'd gotten a little carried away, Trowa always slowed them down again. He never let go completely.

Maybe Trowa held back because he was afraid of Quatre's reaction? Trowa was always so careful not to hurt him, to protect him. Sometimes it was like he thought Quatre was something fragile.

He took several deep breaths to steady his nerves until his hands stopped shaking and his heart rate returned to normal. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed his company, intent on getting a car and returning to work. He needed space to think, and his friends could use some alone-time. A crafty smile began to tilt his lips. Maybe he could just show Trowa what he wanted; the way Duo had showed Heero. After all, Duo wasn't the only one who could seduce a lover.

xXxXxXx

Breathing heavily, Duo watched Heero through half-lidded eyes. Heero was still leaning against him, his hot breath dampening Duo's cheek and neck. Smug and satisfied, he loosely held onto Heero's hips, their spunk covered stomachs still pressed together.

He'd been flirting for months now; a few comments dropped here, a few stolen kisses there. He didn't know if he could have lasted much longer. Duo wasn't exactly celibate by nature. Men, women, he could love them all. Pleasure was pleasure. Growing up the way he had, he'd learned not to be very discriminating. But lately, from right before Harry had come along - and a lot afterward - he'd wanted something… more.

He wanted more than some fun between the sheets. He wanted someone who understood him, who could keep up with his manic moods, who could handle it when his more dangerous side came to the fore. He wanted something permanent. Something like Cat and Tro had; which was probably why he'd kissed Cat in the first place. And he was pretty sure Heero could give him that.

Of course, it hadn't been easy. Heero had iron self-control. He was the ultimate challenge. In fact, if Duo was right, the teen was a virgin. Virgin or not, though, Heero was a hot-blooded, very soon to be eighteen-year-old male. Duo had been pretty sure he could get to him sooner or later, and he'd proven himself right. A grin of triumph spread across his features. It had been totally worth the wait.

Heero shifted and pulled away. His expression clearly showed how displeased he was with their condition.

Laughing, Duo turned to the sink and wetted some paper towels. In less than a minute, they were both cleaned and their clothes were put back in order. Heero had yet to talk. He stood at the sink, arms braced on the counter and staring directly forward at the pavilion wall. Duo was beginning to think he hadn't managed to break through the other teen's walls as much as he'd hoped.

"Hee-chan?"

The brunet lifted his head and they locked eyes. "I'm not sure what this is. You're a good partner. You always watch my back, even when I don't need your help. I'd trust you with any mission, I trust you with Harry, but I'm not sure this is the right thing for us."

Duo felt a rush of emotions speed by so fast he could hardly identify them. Frustration, embarrassment, self-doubt; he settled for rage. I mean, they'd just got off together! This was likely Heero's first sexual experience and he was still going on about missions? Duo hadn't thought that even Heero could be so socially inept!

Eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, he got in Heero's face. "This has nothing to do with missions, Heero! This!" he said pointedly, violently gesturing between them. "Is called attraction, key to any relationship. You know, relationships? Where two people bond their lives together. Who become partners in life not just missions. They do things like live together, sleep together, raise children together."

Implacable blue eyes stared unflinchingly back. "Are you in love with me?"

All the rage drained away as surprise sucker punched him in the solar plexus. Duo took several steps back so he could see Heero's expression more fully. The teen's cheeks were visibly flushed despite his tan skin and his hair was messier than ever. He was sexy as hell. Did Duo love him? Yes. He loved all the guys and Harry. They were more precious to him than anyone else in the world. They really were Duo's one and only family. But was he in love with Heero?

"I could be," he answered, words coming slow as he stared fearlessly into Heero's eyes. "If you gave us a chance." He stepped closer again, regaining his confidence. "You want honesty? I know I'm attracted to you. I think it's clear you're at least a little attracted to me. I know you better than any civilian ever could. So what are you afraid of?"

Heero frowned and crossed his arms, leaning his hip against the counter. "I'm not afraid. I told you. I don't know what this is."

Duo eyed him for a moment before grinning. "I can live with that. Look, we don't have to define anything right now. Let's just see where this takes us."

Heero's brows dipped in the beginning of a discontent glare when they heard the patter of running feet. Harry appeared with an unusually excited grin, spotted them, and crashed first into Duo for a hug before bouncing over to Heero for another one.

"Brother Trowa said we can put together a routine to music! He said Miss Cathy could help with costumes. We could put on a private show for you guys behind our pavilion!"

Duo tugged the little boy back into his arms so he could tickle him. "Gonna be a circus clown like Trowa, huh?" Harry wiggled until he fell to the floor, laughing loudly all the while. "Better not get swallowed by a lion or Hee-chan would have to come in after you."

"S-S-Simba would n-n-never do that!" Harry protested, breathless and red-faced with laughter.

Duo ceased his attack and grinned up at Trowa who stood watching in the doorway, amusement sparkling in his green eyes. "I don't know, Tro-man. What do you think? Is Harry too chewy for Simba?"

"Definitely," Trowa answered in his deep baritone.

Harry turned to Heero. "Are you going to help make lunch, brother Heero?"

"I'll leave that to you three," he answered, reaching down to help the boy to his feet. "I want to answer a few e-mails before we eat."

"Okay. I'll come get you when it's ready," Harry promised earnestly.

Heero brushed his knuckles against the boy's cheek before striding from the room, not once looking back at Duo. Duo stuck out his tongue and made a face. Harry didn't see, having turned to the sink to wash his hands and face, but Trowa lifted an eyebrow in question. Duo gave a careless shrug and bounced over to the refrigerator.

"So what're we makin'?"

xXxXxXx

Wufei arrived back from his errands just in time for lunch. It seemed Harry and the others had decided to make many kinds of sandwiches and had cut them into fourths. They reconstructed each sandwich so that each piece was different. It was interesting and very creative. Wufei told Harry so, and the boy smiled happily at the complement.

Quatre was the only one missing, but that wasn't unusual lately. Frequently the blond would be gone from just after breakfast until dinner. It was nearing one of those times in the year when the accounting division was in overdrive trying to formulate the correct reports and file them with the correct agencies.

When Harry and Duo began to gather the plates, Wufei stilled them with a gesture. "Wait. Before you clean the table, I have something you should see." He went to his bag, pulled out a brown-wrapped package, and returned to his seat. Trowa had moved all the dishes to one side so Wufei could place it on the table. "Remember our homework assignments from Dr. Bohren?" he asked, staring at the child intently.

Harry fidgeted under his gaze, but he didn't flinch or look away. "Yes, sir."

Wufei nodded approvingly. "The others felt this could be our safety totem. Open it. Tell us if you agree. If not, we can find something else."

The boy shyly ducked his head. One small hand crept across the table toward the package. Green eyes darted around at them, but none of them displayed negativity. Still, before he actually touched the paper, he questioned again, to be sure it was okay. "Are you sure I can open this, brother Wufei?"

He nodded. "Please. I am anxious to know your opinion."

Harry's eyes widened at that and his head came up. "Oh! I'm sure it's good!"

Duo laughed, eyes sparkling with excitement. "You have to open it and see it first before you can tell us what you think!"

Harry touched the paper and very carefully tugged it toward him, still watching their every movement. His second hand came into play. Very, very carefully he tore a little of the paper and froze, eyes flashing to their faces.

"Go on!" Duo encouraged. He was leaning so far forward it was a wonder he hadn't face-planted on the table yet. "What is it? Open it! I wanna see!"

Harry straightened and bravely tore the paper. Wufei watched the child's reaction very carefully, just as the others did. They were aware the boy hadn't ever had a gift before, not wrapped like this. Thus, Wufei had chosen the plainest paper he could buy so as not to overwhelm him. However, the true test was what lay inside.

Two 5x8 framed pictures. One showed the six of them standing outside the main tent, their faces painted. The other showed them standing in the sitting room, all but Harry dressed up before Quatre's birthday party. Considering what Dursley had done, they were afraid Harry might feel uncomfortable in front of a camera or looking at pictures of himself, so they all watched closely for any sign of a flashback or undue distress.

Wufei felt every muscle go tense as those big green eyes filled with tears that slowly spilled over flushed cheeks.

"Do you like them?" Trowa asked gently, voice barely audible.

Heero was sitting closest to the child. Harry turned to him, literally crawling into his lap, but he turned as soon as Heero's arms came around him and reached a finger to trace over the figures behind the protective glass. He was crying audibly now, but Wufei wasn't sure it was fear he was seeing. Scrunching his brows in confusion, Wufei looked to Duo for answers. The idiot was grinning wide. Wufei's brows lowered in irritation as he huffed.

"I… It's… Th-thank you," Harry stuttered through his tears and pinned Wufei with a look of absolute gratitude.

Wufei lost his scowl and blinked in surprise, heat warming his cheeks. "You are most welcome. I find them very pleasing pictures. They are among my favorite."

"I… They…" His tears came harder now, but he was also smiling a little. "I, I've never been in p-pictures with my f-family before. No one wants pictures of a f-freak. J-Just Uncle, but I was alone in those."

While Wufei struggled to conceal his rage, Heero began swaying slightly from side-to-side in a comforting manner, his expression betraying nothing. Trowa moved to their side and rubbed one of Harry's arms, occasionally brushing over the boy's damp cheeks with gentle fingers.

"Well, see, that's where they were way wrong," Duo chimed in. He lifted the frames and used the back piece to brace them into a standing position. "I don't see a single freak in either of these pictures. I love them! I think they're the best pictures ever, and I can't wait to take more!"

Harry stared at the two photos as if mesmerized.

Wufei cleared his throat. "Do you agree that one of these could be our totem of safety?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes. They make me feel very happy and safe."

"Good," Heero praised. He ducked so they were cheek to cheek and stared at the pictures with the boy. "Which one shall be the totem? It will be put in the bathroom, where we can all move it secretly if we need to."

"The other should be hung out here," Duo added. He looked around at the pavilion walls and tapped his chin in exaggerated thought. "We're going to need lots more things to hang up to fill up all this space!"

Harry smiled tremulously.

"Which one makes you feel safest?" Wufei asked again when the boy didn't seem to have an answer.

"I… What do you think?" the boy asked, looking around at them.

"We like both," Trowa answered. He stroked Harry's hair a few times. "You choose, Harry."

"Yeah! They both rock! You pick, Harry-chan!" Duo encouraged.

Harry stared at the pictures for a long minute. "I… I think… Maybe the circus o-one?"

Wufei nodded. "Good choice. We all look the same in that one, do we not?"

Harry nodded, smiling shyly.

Heero reached forward and lifted the chosen picture. He handed it to the boy who took it as if it were precious and breakable.

Wufei clenched his hands into fists under the table. How could anyone do what Dursley had done to this child? How?

"Let's put it in the bathroom," Heero suggested.

The two wandered off on their mission, and a warm hand covered Wufei's shoulder. He looked up, surprised to find Duo crouched next to him.

The braided teen nodded, not a grin in sight. "You did perfect, Wufei. Good job."

Wufei nodded sharply, once. "I will do the dishes," he said stiffly.

"I'll get the supplies to hang the picture," Trowa offered.

"Harry! Come help me pick the perfect place for this picture!" Duo called toward the bathroom, bouncing on his heels in excitement. "We can surprise Kitty-Cat with it when he comes home!"

Wufei shook his head, amused, and went to wash the dishes.

xXxXxXx

Harry sat in front of the red curtains in the guest room. His hands shook badly, and he clenched them into fists as he knelt on his bruised shins. Uncle was holding the video camera, his massive form only a shadow behind the bright white light. Harry's heart hammered hard in his chest, terrified of doing wrong. He quickly swiped at his sweaty forehead with his bare arm, wishing he could wear clothes if only to hide his shaking.

"Hands on the floor!" Uncle barked.

Harry slapped them down in front of him, eyes wide.

"Now lift your head. Slower, boy!"

He struggled to obey, to do good, but he didn't know what Uncle wanted. He widened his eyes as far as they could go, hoping the tears in them wouldn't fall as he lifted his head up and then kept going, too afraid to stop without permission. His head was tilted as far back as it could go, chin pointed to the camera now. His breath whistled quietly through his over-extended throat.

"Now tilt your head. To the right. Not left, the RIGHT, you IMBECILE!"

Shaking, tears falling, he corrected his movement, tilting it to the right.

"Touch your chest. One hand. Keep your thighs tight together, don't want to give away the prize too soon, eh, freak?"

Harry obeyed as Uncle laughed at him.

Time seemed to stretch as he sat there, pinned in the glare of the camera's light. His uncle barked out more commands. He was covered in sweat from having to move slowly and hold still in the strange positions. His muscles burned. He was so hungry, so tired. He just wanted it to be over, just wanted to go back to his chores.

A sudden wave of despair brought sobs up from his tight belly until he was crying. Uncle screamed in rage. Harry's head snapped up. He babbled desperate apologies as he scrambled back, lifting his arms as the camera and lights were snapped off. He blinked dazzled eyes, pleas still falling from his tear-soaked lips, only to see the belt snapping forward. It cracked against his forearms in a red blaze of pain.

He cried out, knowing it was pointless, knowing it wouldn't stop the punishment, knowing he wouldn't ever be saved…

Harry sat up with a gasp. He scrambled out of his blankets, fighting them off his sweat-soaked skin. Dark, the room was dark. He was blind; he couldn't breathe. He screamed as hands came down on his shoulders. He thrashed, panicked, pleading for a mercy that would never come. He just needed to catch his breath! Please, please!

"HARRY!"

His name yanked him from the past, orienting him. The lights came on. Wufei was standing by the lamp, hair loose, wearing only pajama pants. Harry crumbled onto his knees, curling around his stomach. "I j-just want i-it to go AWAY!" he cried out desperately. He tried to rub the memories out of his skin, roughly chaffing his hands hard along his arms.

Strong hands tugged at him, but Harry jerked away. He didn't want to be touched. Not while his skin was crawling, now while Uncle was so big in his head.

"P-Please. Make h-him go away," he begged, looking up at his brother.

Wufei folded his legs gracefully, sitting only a few inches in front of him. "I will, Harry. Just listen to my voice. Look at me."

Harry's teeth chattered. It was hard to focus. His head felt like boiling soup. He was afraid to move even an inch, afraid that the burning slop would spill over and drown him again. He pinned his eyes to Wufei, fighting desperately to see him and nothing else.

"Good. That's good, Harry. Do you see what I am holding?"

Panting, afraid to lose contact with his brother, he shook his head, terrified.

"That's okay, Harry." Wufei didn't look angry. He looked calm, indifferent. "Keep looking at me. What color is my hair?"

That was easy. "B-black," he stuttered breathlessly.

"Yes. What color are my eyes?"

"Black," Harry answered, feeling more confident.

"Good. Do I have freckles on my face?"

Harry shook his head after scanning Wufei's pale skin.

"Voice, please," Wufei requested.

"No, sir." He felt his pulse slow.

"What color are my pajamas?"

Harry's eyes darted down without thought. "Black."

"What am I holding?"

A trembling smile touched his lips. "S-Sage."

"Very good, Harry." Wufei's voice was low and warm, and Harry realized he could breathe easily again. "What color is Sage's fur?"

"It's grey."

"What color is his ribbon?"

"Brown." Harry's muscles began to relax.

"What color are his eyes?"

The fear was nearly all gone now. "Black."

"What color is his nose?"

"Brown."

"What color is his mouth?"

"Black."

"Very good, Harry. You're exactly right."

Harry looked up to see Wufei smiling at him.

"How do you feel?" his brother asked.

"Better," Harry admitted. "T-Thank you, brother Wufei." Tears filled his eyes again, but these were a different kind than before. "Y-you saved me."

"We will always save you, Harry," Wufei promised and handed him Sage. "When you begin to feel afraid or can't remember where you are, if your uncle comes back, I want you to concentrate on Sage. I want you to think about how he feels. I want you to touch his eyes, and nose, and mouth. Think about the colors and shapes. He will keep you in the present and remind you that you aren't with your uncle anymore. You're with your brothers. You're safe."

Harry crawled forward, Sage clutched tightly to his chest. Wufei opened his arms to him, and Harry settled into his brother's lap with a wavering sigh. Curling up to Wufei's warmth, he pressed his wet face against the stuffed rabbit's fur. His fingers skimmed the softness of Sage's ears and arms, the silky texture of its ribbon. Wufei's arms held him close, comforting and sheltering. He was safe.

"Harry, do you remember your homework? You were told to record your flashbacks and bad dreams for Dr. Bohren."

Harry flinched and burrowed further into his brother.

"You don't have to talk about it now, but can you tell me a little bit so I can write it down for you? That way we can be certain you won't forget."

"I want to forget," Harry protested, voice muffled by Sage.

Wufei sighed and stroked damp bangs away from Harry's scarred forehead. "I know, but the past cannot be denied. It stays in the quiet mind even when your loud mind forgets. Remember what you saw when Dr. Bohren asked what your life would be like if you had all gold stars on your chart? That can be real, Harry. You can have that. First, however, the past must be healed and put to rest."

Harry clenched his eyes closed. He didn't want to!

"You aren't alone, little brother. I am here. Along with Heero, Trowa, Quatre, and Duo. We will protect you. Just like Sage, when you are afraid, you can come to us. We will remind you that you are safe."

Harry sighed and peeked out at his brother. "U-Uncle… He was m-making a m-movie. I… I…" He felt his throat tighten and closed his eyes.

"Look at me," Wufei's ordered calmly, cutting through the frightening darkness. "Touch Sage. You aren't there any longer. You're safe. You're in your bedroom. I am here."

Harry did as he was told. He stared into Wufei's slanted eyes, visually traced down the long flat nose to a pair of pale lips. He felt Sage's fur against the skin of his arms and a black button eye pressing into his cheek. Slowly but surely, the overwhelming bad feelings faded. He smiled, surprised and happy that it had worked.

"Um… I, I was bad. I started c-crying." Harry cringed, squeezing Sage hard. "I was punished."

"Good, Harry. I think that's enough to remind you about the dream. You don't have to think of it now. You can save it for Dr. Bohren when she helps you heal the past." Wufei's eyebrow arched. "Unless you want to tell me more. I will always listen to you, Harry."

Harry pressed his face to Wufei's shoulder, bringing Sage up close to his cheek to hide away.

Wufei didn't complain. He held him close and began to sing the now familiar lullaby. Harry heaved a tired sigh and let his thoughts dissolve on the melody. Before he knew it, he was carried into dreamless sleep, safe in his brother's arms.

xXxXxXx

Heero stared across the dark room at Duo's sleeping form. The teen was sprawled on his back on a twin bed. One leg hung over the edge and had fallen to the floor. His blankets were twisted around his lean form. Both of his arms were flung above his head, one on the pillow, one under. His bangs fell across his eyes and cheeks, and his mouth hung slightly open.

Staring at Duo's mouth awakened ghost sensations in Heero's lips, reminding him of the sheer pleasure of Duo's body pressed to his. Made him remember the slick slide of skin and the electric burn of every nerve ending during orgasm. Heero clenched sweaty hands around blankets that were arranged perfectly over him.

Heero's training hadn't allowed for the concept of romance. It hadn't allowed for the concept of a child, either, but it had allowed for an apprentice. Combined with the self-assigned mission of protection, Heero had been able to adapt fairly quickly to the idea of Harry in his life. Duo, however, was not something he could adequately prepare for or hope to contain. Heero was at a loss. Ignoring Duo's overtures hadn't settled the issue, but he was equally uncertain as to what actions would resolve the matter satisfactorily.

His eyes flicked to the doorway as Wufei returned. Quatre had fetched the teen nearly an hour ago by Heero's internal clock. He lifted an eyebrow as his friend jerked his head back, indicating he wished for Heero to follow. He sat up and darted his eyes toward Duo, but Wufei shook his head in a negative.

Silently, Heero slid from the bed and crossed the room. Wufei was no longer in the hallway. Padding forward, he found the Chinese pilot at the entrance to the pavilion. Catching sight of Heero, the teen slipped out into the night. Heero's hands automatically checked for the gun at his back as he stepped outside. He just caught sight of Wufei's silhouette disappearing among the trees away from the other tents and trailers. Barefoot, wearing back spandex shorts and a loose dark green wife beater, Heero was nearly invisible in the dark, and he set out at a ground-eating lope. He didn't get far before he was abruptly halted.

Wufei attacked from above, dropping near silently from the canopy. Heero dove into a roll, hand moving deliberately away from his gun. He came up, feet braced, arms ready to defend. A powerful leg came down at him in a deadly chop. Heero crossed his wrists, blocking just before it fell on his crown. He shoved up, throwing Wufei off balance, but the teen recovered quickly. Lighting fast jabs flew by Heero's face, brushed his throat, fell just short of his groin as he dodged. Heero lashed out and landed a solid hit on Wufei's chest, pulling the blow at last second.

He was much stronger; inhumanly strong, in fact. He also had incredible endurance and a rapid healing factor. However, Wufei was a Master of several martial arts. He knew every pressure point and vulnerable zone on the body. Incredibly agile, he was able to avoid Heero's more powerful blows and use the strength he did possess in elegant and efficient strikes that would temporarily debilitate Heero if they landed. Had Wufei been armed with his katana, Heero would have been in trouble, but barehanded they were pretty evenly matched. That is to say, they wouldn't kill each other while sparing full-out.

Heero turned his torso just enough to avoid a vicious kick to the diaphragm. He caught it instead on his floating rib. Ignoring the flash of pain as it cracked, Heero lashed out with his palm. Wufei's shoulder dislocated with an audible pop. Despite the solid hit, the martial artist took advantage of Heero's extended arm. His hand locked around Heero's wrist as he spun, pulling Heero off balance. And underhand thrust flew up toward the elbow in an attempt to break it. Heero sprang forward, moving with the momentum of Wufei's pull, and kicked out, but Wufei had already released him and jumped out of reach.

The sky panels were beginning to ignite in preparation of the day and emitted a white glow. Wufei's bare chest glistened under the faint light. They were both breathing hard. Heero got into a ready stance as Wufei ran forward, face twisted in rage. Heero sidestepped the wild charge and landed another palm-strike, this time on Wufei's side.

Wufei staggered back from the hit, winded. He ran in again, unusually reckless. He leapt into the air, flipping vertically upside down over Heero's head. Heero turned just fast enough to block the kick that would have landed solidly on the back of his neck, killing him instantly. He lunged forward before Wufei could get his feet solid under him and tackled him to the ground. They slid on the churned up soil. Heero slapped away a finger-jab aimed at his kidney and used his superior strength to pin his partner.

Sharp, vicious Chinese spewed from Wufei's mouth as he resisted Heero's hold. They struggled for a good five minutes until Wufei went limp, panting and drenched in sweat. Uncharacteristically, Wufei slammed his own head on the ground twice. Heero wasn't fooled. The tears in his eyes weren't from the self-inflicted blows.

"Report," Heero ordered quietly, not moving an inch.

Wufei's eyes clenched closed. "He had a nightmare about that filth filming him. The photos likely triggered the memory."

Heero lifted his head and looked in the direction of their pavilion, as if he could see through trees and cloth to the little boy asleep inside. "His condition?"

"Calm," Wufei answered on a sigh. "I taught him a meditation technique utilizing an external focus. It interrupted the panic attack and he fell asleep peacefully."

Heero almost asked if Wufei had also sung to him but refrained. It was unnecessary information. All that mattered was that the child was at rest.

"There is no justice!" Wufei yelled, tears streaking his face once more. "The war taught me the illusive nature of justice, but this! This is… It's…"

It was rare for Wufei, the scholar, to find his vast vocabulary inadequate to express his thoughts. It touched something inside Heero, and he gently pressed their heads together. "There is justice. Even here. Harry's tormentors are dead and can never touch him again. He's been given into our care, and we will see him protected and living a healthy, happy life."

Wufei nodded but kept his silence, closing his eyes.

Heero released his hold and sat back on his heels while his friend began to regulate his breathing, his tears slowly coming to a stop. After about ten minutes, Wufei sat up, wincing and grabbing at his shoulder. Heero moved forward and braced his torso between his knees. He waited for Wufei to exhale before pulling the limb back into its socket. The teen gave a pained grunt and carefully held the limb close to his chest as he climbed to his feet.

Heero flashed an uncharacteristic grin as he took in his dirty, bruised appearance. "Better wash up and dress before Duo sees you."

"Yes. That is good advice," Wufei answered with a rueful smile.

Unfortunately, Duo was just coming out of their shared bedroom when they entered the pavilion. The braided teen was yawning, sleepy tears gathered at the corner of his eyes. Heero smirked as he did a double take, those violet eyes going wide.

"What happened to you, Wu-man? You wrestle the lion or something?"

"More like a sadistic wolf," Wufei countered, shooting Heero a glare.

As Duo's mouth gaped open, Heero chuckled.

Chapter end. Please review!