Author's Notes: I updated! Woot! Well, this chapter is incredibly long, so hopefully you all can forgive me. Several people have asked me how much research I had to do for this story. I've been a big fan of Holocaust stories since I was young, and I've read quite a few survivor stories, like Eli Weisel, Corrie ten Boom, and Livia Bitton-Jackson. I also did a lot of research on Anne Frank a while back. And I've been looking up concentration camps online for a long time, and reading books on them. So, quite a lot of research over a long period of time. And I'm learning something new every day I write this, usually that conflicts with what I've written, so I'm taking a lot of liberties. If you want any of the cool websites I've been using for research, email me.

Thank You Time: Special thanks to my friends Jane and Holly for helping me write the conversation between Trowa and Quatre about human nature. Thanks to my wonderful friends, K-chan and Pi-chan, for letting me bounce ideas off them. Thanks to my bestest friend, Little Vixen, for helping me with ideas and being there for me to discuss with.

Lionheart (No, it's Zechs), Wolfgirl333 (Read on and find out), Burning tree, Reliak (I know;)), Kinkosami (Quatre will become stronger, you'll see, no, that's not all the yaoi, read this chapter to see, and yes, read on to see about Trowa), Misanagi (Read on, I think you'll like Quatre a bit more now, and thank you for commenting about him speaking French. I ended up using that. Eternal appreciation:)), Lothur, Kerwin (When did Duo become British? "Little buggers"?:)), Shuichi-san (See above note), Shinigami's Forlorn Angel (Again, see above), Lionheart again, Ember Elidd (Love ya, babe), Ichigo-nuclear, Dream (I do my own, but I'll keep it in mind. Thanks), and Jennilyn Maxwell (Aww, you're sweet). Thank you to everyone who reviewed for me. Please review my chapters! I'll love you forever! I'm a review whore. Peace, all!

Warnings: mild yaoi starting, language, violence, anti-religious statements, death of main characters eventually

The first morning that Quatre woke up next to Trowa was wonderful. He snuggled closer to the gypsy boy, closing his eyes again, hoping to gain a few more minutes of sleep before they had to get up.

Next to him, on his other side, Duo was warm and curled up in a sort of ball. Quatre smiled softly. Duo and Trowa were so wonderful.

The door suddenly unlocked, and the guards slammed them open, yelling insults as usual to wake them up. On the far end of the bunk, Heero and Wufei were waking up, and he could feel Duo shifting next to him. Quatre groaned and nudged Trowa next to him. "Trowa. Wake up."

Trowa stirred, blinking his emerald eyes open. They flickered all over for a moment, as if trying to figure out where he was. His eyes lighted on Quatre's face, and he smiled softly. "Bonjour."

"Bonjour," Quatre echoed back, giving him a cheery, if not sleepy, smile. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, reverting back to German.

Trowa nodded slowly. "Ja. I do."

Quatre giggled softly. "Where are you assigned to work?"

"I work building and fix build."

"Build and fix buildings?" Quatre corrected gently.

"Ah, yes. Build and buildings fix."

Quatre laughed softly and hugged him close. "I see."

Trowa nodded and hugged him back softly before sitting up slowly. As soon as he was up, he turned away from Quatre and coughed painfully, a hoarse, early-morning, congested cough. "Are you all right?" Quatre asked concernedly, reaching out to pat his back gently.

"Yes, thank you. I be all right soon." He coughed again, then turned back to Quatre. "Forgive me."

"Quite all right," Quatre replied. He gave Trowa a friendly smile. "I work in the kitchen myself."

"It is nice?"

"Yes, very nice."

"All right, enough gabbing," Duo replied on his other side, giving Quatre a playful poke in the ribs. "'Tis breakfast time, and I could eat a horse, indeed I could," he said, employing a funny voice to try to cheer them all up.

Quatre and Trowa laughed together while Heero and Wufei merely glared impatiently. "Can we go now?" Heero demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes yes yes," Duo replied teasingly. "Let's go to breakfast." He slid over and dropped off the edge of the bunk with practiced ease.

Quatre smiled softly at Trowa. "Go ahead."

"Thank you." Trowa moved to the end of the bunk rather than the side and climbed down quickly. Quatre crawled to the edge, peering down at him. Trowa smiled back up at him. "Come with me."

Quatre hesitantly turned around and stepped down onto the first slat, holding tightly to the top one. A moment later he felt strong, gentle hands on the back of his legs.

"Up," Trowa commanded gently.

Quatre blinked in surprise, having to think about the backwards order for a moment, but he followed Trowa's lead and stepped down to the next slat. The hands supported him, moving to his hips to hold him steady. The last step down, he caught Quatre's hand. Quatre landed on the ground, turning around to smile gratefully at Trowa. "Thank you."

Trowa smiled back, his emerald eyes shining just a bit. "Pleasure mine. Hurry we should. Heero give us bad look."

Quatre glanced over Trowa's shoulder to see that indeed, Heero was glaring impatiently at them. He wanted to stick out his tongue, but that would be rude and childish of him, so he didn't. He took Trowa's hand and steered him towards the door, struggling through the people to avoid being trampled before he found Duo and tugged Trowa to his side. Duo gave them a gentle smile. "Stay by me. Don't get separated."

Quatre had a feeling Trowa wasn't going anywhere, considering how firmly he was attached to the blond's slender arm. He smiled gently up at Trowa. Trowa smiled back at him as they stepped outside into the cool morning air. The coldness whipped over them as if the thin cotton clothing they wore were nothing at all. He shivered and stepped closer to Trowa's warm body. Their breath lingered in the coldness in foggy puffs.

Duo steered them into their usual line, pulling Trowa off of Quatre. "You're the tallest, so you have to stand at the back, Trowa."

Quatre whimpered, trying to catch Trowa's hand. "Trowa…"

"Quatre, he'll be right behind us. You have to stand at the front. You're the shortest."

Quatre sighed and moved to the front of the line, casting a longing glance back at the gypsy boy who was moving obediently where Duo steered him. Once he was in place, Duo slid into his spot behind Quatre, giving the blond boy a reassuring smile. "Hey. He'll be just fine, Quatre. You know that."

"Duo… I want to be with him."

"He'll be back tonight. You can be with him then. You really like him, don't you?" Duo asked, leaning forward to whisper in Quatre's ear.

"Yes, ever so much. And I have you to thank for it, Duo."

"Hey, it was no problem." Duo flashed his usual bright, silly grin. "You take care of him, all right?"

"I will." Quatre shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. He was cold, so cold in only his prison uniform. "Can we go back and get a blanket?"

"No blankets allowed," Duo replied with a shake of his head that sent his bangs shivering. "Don't ever take your blanket with you. I've seen three young men attacked by guard dogs til they died because they brought their blankets."

Quatre shuddered, feeling colder than ever. He rubbed his arms, trying to create some friction to warm them. Duo's hands landed on his arms, rubbing them as well, trying to make him warmer. He smiled at him shyly in return before facing forward again.

Work had been just fine that day, but Quatre was eager to get off of work and get back to Trowa. The few days the gypsy boy had been with them had been the happiest he had had since he came to the camp. They would sit and chat back and forth, alternating French and German, talking about their families, where they came from, things they liked to do… Trowa was a very interesting person to get to know, Quatre had discovered. He could sing quite well, and Quatre made him teach him songs in Romani.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts as he sliced carrots for dinner that he almost didn't notice a young woman enter the squat building that was the kitchen. "Prisoner P133824, front and center!"

That sounded like his number. Quatre had to glance down at the tattoo on his right arm to confirm that before he quickly set down the knife he was chopping with, leaping to his feet and racing over to the door, standing straight in front of the dark-haired woman with shady, purple eyes. The badge on her chest read 'Lieutenant Noin'.

She glanced him over with an unreadable expression before pivoting sharply on her shiny, black heel. "Come with me."

Where were they going? Quatre wondered, aware that everyone in the kitchen was watching him and probably debating the same thing. He followed Noin outside, blinking against the sunlight that hit him squarely in the face. It was only April, and the sun was blindingly hot during the afternoon. He followed her across the camp. They were headed towards the exit, but they were also heading towards where the tall, brick chimney that belched black smoke towards the haze-colored sky. He felt his legs starting to shake as he trailed after her, trying to calm himself down. What had he done that would make them want to punish him? He couldn't think of anything.

But they passed right by the chimney and the surrounding buildings, heading on towards the office buildings that stood near the gates of camp. Noin stopped outside one of them, a single level, lengthy, official-looking building, rather simple but well built. "Colonel Treize wants to see you."

Quatre stared at Noin in shock for a moment. He had heard that name before, from Duo. Colonel Treize was the leader of the camp, wasn't he? The eyes and ears of all of Auschwitz? Why in the world did Treize want to see him?

Noin led him inside the long structure, stopping in front of the first door there. She knocked on it, waiting. From somewhere inside, a voice responded, "Come in." The voice was deep and cultured. Quatre swallowed hard as Noin pushed the door open, stepping aside to let him in. He slowly slipped inside, standing just inside the doorway. Noin closed the door behind her, leaving Quatre alone in the office, save for the young officer sitting at the desk facing the door. Quatre's eyes landed on him, studying him.

The young man was dressed in fine clothing, honey blond hair perfectly set against his head. His face was clean-shaven and trustworthy-looking. When he looked up at him, Quatre could see that his eyes were the clear blue of a summer's day.

"Sit down," he offered, gesturing with one white-gloved hand to a soft chair nearby.

"Yes sir." Quatre's eyes drifted over the room he hadn't really looked at before as he sat down primly on the edge of the chair, his hands clenching into the knees of his uniform. The room was made mostly of wood, mahogany or something equally rich looking, from the quick glance he gave it. The furniture scattered around was plush, looking very much like cherry wood, with maroon coverings. There were several paintings on the wall, most by Italian artists. The room was aglow with rosy lamplight from one lamp on the desk and a few scattered lamps on the wall. Bookshelves lined the sidewalls, filled with heavy-looking books. Overall, the room had a sort of rich feel to it.

Treize smiled softly at Quatre as the boy's eyes turned back to him. "Would you care for something? Something to eat, perhaps?"

"May I?" Quatre asked in surprise, hope brimming in his voice.

"Of course. What would you like?" He picked up the phone on his desk, gazing at him expectantly. At Quatre's hesitation, he smiled again. "I'll just have a bit of everything brought here for you." He spoke into the phone for a moment before setting it down and turning back to him. "Was that all right with you?"

Wide-eyed, Quatre nodded. "Yes sir."

Laughter burst from Treize's throat, a deep, carefree laugh, and he shook his blond head slowly. "You don't need to call me 'sir', Herr Winner."

Quatre blinked at the sudden name that until now he had only associated with his father. "Yes s-… I mean, yes. And… you don't have to call me Herr. Quatre is fine."

"Very well. I will call you Quatre, and you will call me Treize. Fair?"

Quatre looked mortified at calling an officer by his first name, but he nodded slowly. "Yes si- Treize."

"I suppose you're curious as to why I called you here."

"Yes, I… I am. The officer who brought me here didn't tell me anything."

"Because she doesn't know," Treize replied. "No one here does, save for me. Because what I'm asking is a personal matter."

"A… a personal matter?" Quatre asked softly. What could be a personal matter for a commanding officer? Or perhaps it was a personal matter with him that needed to be addressed. "A… Am I in trouble, sir?"

Treize laughed again, shaking his head. "No, Quatre, you're not in trouble. If you were, I would not address it to you in such a manner."

Quatre was finding it very easy to like this young man. He seemed genuinely nice and very polite, refined like a diamond among all the rough of the camp. "Good… I couldn't think of anything I had done…"

"No, you've done nothing wrong," Treize replied again with a soft smile. A knock at the door interrupted his next sentence. The door swung open, allowing in a portly cook with a cart full of food. He left it in front of Quatre, then left the room without a word.

"Please," Treize said, indicating the plates brimming with hot food of every assortment.

Aggravated hunger won over Quatre's will to be polite. Everything smelled so good. Hot soup, doughy dumplings, warm sausage, frosted cake, tall glasses of milk… He picked up a spoon and took a long, hot sip of soup. The buttery warmth covered his tongue and sent his senses whirling. He hadn't tasted anything so good in… weeks now. Had it really been that long?

Treize watched with a sort of fascination as Quatre spooned hot broth into his mouth before he reached for a bottle, pulling the top off. "Here. Champagne. Join me?"

Quatre looked up concernedly as Treize poured two glasses. "I'm not old enough."

Treize's laughter echoed off the walls at that, handing him the glass. "I won't tell anyone. Please."

Quatre swallowed hard and lifted the glass to his lips. He took a swallow, wincing as the alcohol burned down his throat. But the afterglow wasn't so bad.

Treize smiled, then sipped his own sedately. "Now, as to why I called you here."

Quatre nodded and set down his fork, but at a wave from Treize, picked it back up again. He took a bite of warm German sausage as Treize began.

"I have actually been watching you for some time now, Quatre."

"Watching me?" Quatre asked with his mouth full before he blushed and swallowed quickly.

"Yes, watching you. You see, I have developed quite an interest in you."

The next bite of sausage paused halfway to Quatre's mouth. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" A large, soft hand reached out across the desk and clasped his chin affectionately. "I've developed an interest in you."

It took a moment for that to sink in before Quatre's eyes went wide, and he yanked away, dropping the fork, nearly falling off his chair, squeaking in surprise. Treize watched him with something like amusement, letting go of the teenager's chin as he pulled away.

"No!" Quatre nearly yelled, surprised at the strength in his own voice. "No! I will not do such a thing!"

Treize raised a well-groomed brow. "Are you sure about that, Quatre? Think about it. I could take you out of the squalor you're living in now. You could have warm clothes and good food for the rest of your life."

Quatre shrank back against the chair, his cerulean eyes wide and scared. Colonel Treize Khushrenada was asking him to… to… service him? "Aren't… aren't you sending people to this horrible place because they… like… men?" His voice faded into no more than a whisper. Duo had told him about that.

Treize nodded slowly. "We are, but that does not mean that I cannot have what I want."

Quatre shook his head emphatically. "No! I won't do it!"

"You seem to be forgetting, Quatre, that I have your life in my hands at this very moment. A word from me, and you and everything you hold dear could be snuffed out."

"Are you threatening me?" Quatre demanded, his eyes flashing with the tiniest hint of anger.

"Yes," Treize replied, complete serenity on his face.

Quatre glared darkly at him, a look that seldom crossed his face. "I will never give myself to you like that."

"Never is such a strong word, Quatre. And it doesn't really matter whether or not you agree. I will have you, with or without your consent."

Quatre's eyes went wider still. "You'd rape me?"

"I would. Which is why I'm hoping you'll agree to this arrangement."

"What arrangement?" Quatre asked softly, his voice barely audible. He unknowingly pulled his knees to his chest on the chair, wrapping his arms protectively around them.

"You give me what I want, cooperate with me, and I will give you things in return. Food, nice clothing, hot showers. A warm bed away from the lice and disease and filth."

Quatre swallowed hard. His skin felt alive with grime, and a hot shower sounded so nice… And the warm food next to him still smelled so inviting.

"Think about it, Quatre. A chance to live the life you've grown up with. Riches, warmth, comfort. That could all be yours again, instead of forcing you into the life of the lowliest slave. Isn't that what you want?"

Quatre cringed, lowering his eyes to his knees, realizing now that he clutched them so tightly to his chest. "I… I don't… I don't know…"

"Look in your heart, little one. You want the luxury you grew up with. I can give that to you."

Quatre shook his head slowly. "No… I won't…"

Treize smiled, sitting back in his chair. "What about your friends, Quatre? Those four boys you're always with. You could help them. Bring them food and blankets. Keep them from being harmed."

Quatre took a deep, shuddery breath. He could protect his friends. But… It would require him to give up the little he had left. After his purity, he had nothing left that was his own anymore. "I… I don't know…"

Treize nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "You can think about it all you want, Quatre. I am a patient man. But I will have you eventually. It's you choice whether or not you're paid for it."

Quatre sank down in his chair, feeling sick to his stomach. Paid for his services like a common whore. Raped or treated as a prostitute. Neither was an appealing offer. "I'll think about it."

Treize nodded again. "That is acceptable."

Appetite lost, Quatre stared numbly at the food next to him. How could he do such a thing? How could he let Treize treat him like this? But he had no choice. Treize knew what he wanted, and he was willing to do anything for it.

Treize picked up the champagne glass in front of him that he had drunk from before, swirling the pale liquid around, studying it with interest. "If you are finished, Quatre, you are free to leave." He glanced up at him with icy blue eyes. "My door is always open, whenever you're ready. And you will come to me. I know you will."

Quatre lowered his head shamefully. "I won't."

Treize smiled softly at him. "We'll see, little one."

Quatre pushed himself quickly out of his seat, backpedaling towards the door. He yanked it open as quickly as he could and almost ran right into a tall soldier with long, blond hair.

"Ah, Lieutenant Merquise. Perfect timing. Will you please escort Herr Winner here back to his barrack? Make sure he gets back safely?"

The soldier nodded, taking Quatre's arm gently but firmly in his own. "Yes sir. Come with me," he said, giving Quatre a gentle pull.

Quatre stumbled out of the office on shaky legs, following after the man, his mind reeling. What was he supposed to do? He didn't want any of this, but he didn't seem to have a choice.

"Which barrack are you in?" the lieutenant asked, glancing down at him. His voice was deep but kind.

"Nineteen," Quatre replied softly. The man nodded, turning his eyes forward again.

They walked in silence back through the camp, Quatre using the man's light grip on his arm to keep himself up. He suddenly felt so tired for some reason. Lieutenant Merquise led him back through the camp the way Noin had before but led him back to the barracks, past the kitchen. He pushed the door open and escorted Quatre inside. "All right?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Quatre replied softly, nodding at the lieutenant. The man nodded back, giving him the barest shadow of a smile before turning and exiting, leaving Quatre all alone in the barracks. They had been cleaned earlier during the day and now stood silent and empty. Feeling more alone than he had in a long time, Quatre pulled himself up onto his bunk, laying down there, pulling a few of their blankets over him. More than anything he wanted the others there with him. He wasn't all that hungry, but they wouldn't be back until after dinner was over. His mind felt full, and he felt a headache setting in right behind his eyes.

He must have drifted off, because he woke up when Duo came clambering up onto the bunk next to him with a concerned look. "Hey. What are you doing here this early?"

Quatre gazed up at Duo, blinking to clear his eyes and his head. "Oh… I…" He couldn't tell Duo about Treize. Duo would be mad, or so he reasoned. And he was too ashamed. No one could know about the horrible thing Treize wanted from him. "I wasn't feeling too well, so I came back here."

Duo looked skeptical, but he nodded. "How was work otherwise?"

Glad that Duo did not press the issue, Quatre smiled softly, sitting up. "Fine. I still wish I could bring some carrots back for all of you."

"Hey, we're living." Duo gave him a mischievous grin. "I got something for ya."

"What?" Quatre asked eagerly, leaning closer to Duo.

Duo reached down to the cuffs of his pants, reaching inside them and pulling out two rectangle bars, both wrapped in shiny silver paper, each no bigger than four inches in length. "Chocolate. Feeling well enough to eat it?"

"Duo!" Quatre gasped in surprise. "How did you…?"

"You'll have to share this one with Trowa, I'm afraid. This one is for Heero and Wufei."

"But… what about you?"

"Hey, don't worry about me."

"But Duo-."

"Quatre, I got them for you guys." Duo pressed the bar into Quatre's palm. "I insist. Hey, there's Heero and Wufei!"

Quatre didn't have any reply, slipping the chocolate into his own rolled up cuffs.

Heero and Wufei climbed up to the bunk, both looking extremely depressed and disgusted.

"Something wrong, guys?" Duo asked concernedly.

Both were silent for a moment before Wufei finally answered, "We had to help burn bodies today."

"Oh… I see," Duo said softly, his voice filled with both sympathy and complete understanding.

"They're filling them up as fast as we can dig them," Heero added darkly. "They said we worked too slow, so we had to help them cover the bodies and burn them."

Duo shuddered. "Nasty."

"Yes." They were all silent for a long moment before Duo pulled them aside to cheer them up with chocolate. Quatre lay at the end of the bunk on his stomach, trying not to think about what Wufei and Heero had just said, waiting for Trowa to return. Minutes passed, and Quatre began to worry. Had Trowa been hurt? Or worse?

Just as he was about to get the courage to ask Duo to go look for him, Trowa walked in, looking pale and drawn. Quatre was off the bunk in record time, racing over to him. "Trowa, are you all right?"

"Yes." Trowa gave him a weak, awkward smile. "I be all right."

"Good." Quatre caught his hand and pulled him over to the bunk, climbing up and waiting for him there.

Trowa climbed up a bit slower than usual, sitting down delicately on the end of the bed. "Forgive me for early be."

"You're not early," Duo replied with a bright grin. "You're not even on time. You're late."

Trowa blushed just a bit, nodding at his mistake. "Yes. Forgive me for late."

Duo shook his head. "Don't worry about it." He moved a bit closer to Trowa, studying his face. Trowa looked paler than usual, and Duo could barely smell the lingering scent of bile on the gypsy's breath. He had been ill. "Do you need anything?"

"No. Thank you."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I am sure. Thank you ask for."

Duo nodded slowly. If Trowa would not tell him what was wrong, he couldn't help.

"Trowa, look!" Quatre gushed, pulling out the chocolate bar from his sleeve cuff. "For you and me!"

Trowa smiled softly at the bouncy blond. "Yes?"

"Yes." Quatre pulled off the silver paper and broke the milky brown bar in half, handing one of the pieces over to Trowa. The French gypsy smiled again and took the chocolate, taking a small bite.

Quatre hesitated, gazing down at the tiny bit of chocolate in his own palm, then broke it in half again, holding it out to Duo. "Here."

"I told you, don't worry about me," Duo replied, staring in surprise at the proffered treat.

"Take it," Quatre insisted. "I won't eat mine if you won't take it."

Duo wavered for a moment before he took the sweet morsel. "Thanks, pal. You're the greatest."

Quatre blushed, sticking the fragment of chocolate in his mouth. "Mmm…"

Duo smiled at him, letting the chocolate bit sit on his tongue and slowly melt there. Quatre was so sweet. Sweeter than chocolate ever could be. And that care he felt for those he loved, he was sure, would be his greatest weakness.

April 1944 passed as sluggish as the undulating heat that scorched the dry grounds of Auschwitz. May took its time in coming, and, when it did, it brought dusty winds, infernal heat, and unpredictable rain. The roof leaked, which concerned Duo for Trowa's already serious cough as the dampness seemed to soak into clothing, blankets, hair, skin, and wood. Everything felt saturated, and Duo reflected on this as he curled against Quatre's slumbering form one night in mid-May. He was so tired; all he wanted to do now was sleep and forget where he was. Darkness surrounded him in its warm envelope, easing his troubled mind with calming fingers.

He was almost asleep when the door suddenly banged open, and five men stepped inside, flashlights glowing like spotlights. "Everyone! Up! Now! Schnell!"

Everyone sat up hastily, eyes wide and scared. 'Shit,' Duo thought. Selection… He glanced worriedly over his group, checking for immediate things that could potentially hurt his group. Heero and Wufei seemed fine, but Trowa and Quatre…

"Come on, off the bunk, stand in front of it," Duo ordered them through clenched teeth over the resounding sounds of the inmates all doing the same. "Stay quiet, eyes down. Now!" No one needed to be told twice. In an instant, everyone was on the ground, standing straight, eyes on the floor. Trowa and Quatre gripped hands, hidden behind Duo.

"All of you will strip and form a single file line. You will file past us. If your number is written down, you will drop your clothing here and move to the left. Anyone who does not obey will be shot."

"Duo," Quatre whimpered softly.

"Shh. Do what they say." Duo reached for his shirt. "Trowa, not a cough from you, you hear me? Not a single one! Do you understand?"

Trowa nodded slowly, his emerald eyes wide and scared.

"And Quatre… Stand up straight…" Duo's violet eyes were worried. "Um…"

"You're not looking encouraging, Duo," Quatre replied, his voice higher than normal and extremely strained.

"I'm sorry… Just… be respectful. You know how to do that. Just look as strong and alert as you can. And let go of Trowa."

Their hands slowly separated like two sticky caramels. Duo watched them silently. They cared about each other so much… If one of them died, the other… He didn't want to think about that.

The line began to form, and Duo shoved Heero and Wufei into line ahead of him, then moved Trowa and Quatre behind him. "Everyone just stay calm, understand? If you get chosen, I can't save you."

Quatre shivered slightly. "Duo…"

"Hey." Duo glanced back over one pale, bare shoulder. "Would I let anything happen to you?"

"N… No…"

"Then just trust me, all right? Stop acting like a scared rabbit."

"'K… 'Kay…"

Duo smiled gently. "Hey. I love you."

Quatre smiled weakly back. "I love you too," he replied. It felt so good to hear those words. Nothing romantic, just undying friendship heralded Duo's words, the deepest friendship he had ever felt, a friendship with no end, only the same timeless, boundless love. It made him feel so good.

A sudden cough by him made Quatre start, and he shifted to glance at Trowa who had turned his head to the side, coughing hoarsely. It was only then that it struck him how pale Trowa was. And… now that he really got a good look at him… He noticed Trowa stood slightly bent at the waist, as if he had a pain deep inside of him. His cheeks were flushed pink, a slight sheen of sweat glimmering on his forehead. Trowa had a fever.

"Trowa? What's wrong? Are you all right?"

"Y… Yes. Do not worry me about." Trowa gave him a soft smile. "Be good I is." Quatre nodded slowly, facing forward again as the line moved forward where the five guards stood against the wall, one in a chair, obviously the leader of them.

Duo watched the seated man. He wore high, black boots that gleamed, so out of place in this dusty, drab hut. The soldier sat with his black-booted feet spread apart. If he wanted to let the inmate live, his left foot tapped. If he wanted him sent to his death, his right foot tapped. Duo felt a surge of dread with every man that passed. Many of them still seemed like healthy workers, but their eyes were dead and empty. They were just blank shells, their souls already departed for Sheol. He held his breath as first Wufei, then Heero marched past the guards, backs straight, heads held high. You had to admire them, Duo admitted to himself. They had strength, and they had their pride, however shamed they felt. They both got the left foot. Duo stepped forward, keeping his eyes respectfully on the ground, his back straight, trying to look as strong as he felt. He knew he wasn't looking the best he could, but he was still plenty healthy. It had never occurred to him that he might be chosen and leave them all alone. But the left black boot tapped, and a soldier motioned him through the doorway into the next room.

He joined Heero and Wufei, sliding on his clothing as he watched Trowa stand in front of the poker-faced man. 'Not a single cough. No coughing, no sniffling, nothing,' he reminded Trowa silently in a vain hope that he was telepathic. But Trowa was the perfect actor, standing straight, any coughing kept deep inside of him. The foot tapped left. Duo let out a sigh of relief, then almost choked on it when another man in a white lab coat stepped forward. A doctor.

"You are a gypsy?" the man asked, taking Trowa's arm in his hand and turning it over to check the number burned blaring blue on the pale skin.

Trowa stood still, only the tiniest sparkling in his eye showing the fear that blazed inside of him. Duo sucked in a breath. No… Not a gypsy… Don't take him… They couldn't…

The man wrote down Trowa's number on a clipboard, then gave him a shove towards the next room where the survivors stood. "What he for do that?" he questioned of Duo the instant he saw him, moving over to him, pulling his clothes on as he went.

"I… don't know," Duo admitted. "Sometimes, many gypsies get their numbers written… They get moved to another area, I don't know where."

"But I want with you stay," Trowa replied, his eyes concerned.

"I know. I'll do my be- Quatre!" He had nearly forgotten about the blond teen, shoving his way past Trowa to watch from the doorway. Apparently the white-coated man's writing down Trowa's number had caused a discrepancy, because the commanding officer was berating him rather loudly in heated German that even Duo had a hard time understanding around his growling. Something about good workers, stupid theories, and illness. Whatever was wrong, it ended quickly, and the officer motioned for the line to move on.

Quatre moved to the center of the room, looking just as wide-eyed and scared as he had looked the day Duo had met him. Duo held his breath.

The right foot tapped. "Shit," Duo muttered.

"Sir." One of the men stepped forward to address the commanding officer. He bent down to speak into the man's ear.

Quatre stood in the middle of the floor, his heart thundering in his chest, feeling more exposed than he had in a long time. As the foot hit the floor, his heart skipped a beat, and, for one terrible moment, he was afraid he was going to pass out. The sounds around him seemed to roar, so he could barely hear the young man talking to the officer who had just signed his death warrant, but, by lip-reading and a lot of guessing, he was able to make out 'Treize', 'number', and 'to be sure'.

"Hold out your arm," the raven-booted man said, rising to his ebony feet with a sharp click.

Quatre's arm shook like a tree limb in a storm as he held out his right arm with the number blazoned across it. The man took his arm roughly, squeezing it between beefy fingers, studying the number intently, then letting go with a soft snort. "I see. One lucky bastard." He pointed towards the doorway. "Go, swine."

Quatre turned and dashed for the doorway, his clothing flapping in his hands like striped flags.

Duo caught him around the waist, pulling him close in a hug, stroking his hair gently. "Quatre…"

The next moment, Trowa's arms were around them both, holding them tightly in a firm embrace. Quatre cuddled back against him. "Trowa…"

"What was all that?" Duo asked softly, pulling back to look Quatre in the face.

"I… I don't know," Quatre said softly, his voice no more than a gasp of air. His face burned for reasons unknown, and all he could do was cling to Duo's shirt like a lifeline.

"But you're all right?" Duo stroked Quatre's blond bangs out of his eyes.

"Y… Yes." Other than his extremely shaky legs and his blood thundering in his ears, he was fine. Warm and safe in Trowa's arms. He glanced over at Heero and Wufei who were not looking his way, which made him aware he was still very unclothed. He blushed and quickly slid his striped prison uniform over his tiny body. Only then did he finally get their attention. "You are all right, Heero? Wufei?"

"We're fine," Heero replied. "We are wondering if Trowa is all right. They wrote his number down."

"I don't know what it means," Duo responded, feeling more than a bit helpless. He had heard horror stories about gypsies though, who had been used for inhuman experiments. Mutilated beyond recognition, screams of pain sometimes still frozen on their faces as they were handed off to the Sonderkommando to be burned. But he couldn't tell Trowa that now. Not now, not after he had just come to them, not now that he and Quatre had grown so close and then almost just lost each other. It might not even be true. They were merely rumors; he had never seen them for himself. He would not scare Trowa like that.

"Come on, let's get away from the door. We'll be allowed back to bed as soon as the selection is over."

"How can you be so nonchalant over this?" Wufei asked suddenly, his black eyes glittering like two scarabs. "People are being chosen to die!"

"I'm not happy about it!" Duo defended, glowering slightly at Wufei, a look that seldom crossed his elvish face. "I would save them all if I could! But there's nothing I can do. Nothing you can do. If you want to live, you have to look out for yourself. I want to take care of you four, so I need to stay alive. I don't want you four to die!"

"Why us?" Quatre asked softly from Trowa's arms. "Among everyone you could have picked, why us?"

"Because I like you all. I saw something in each of you that I liked, that I wanted to protect. Something I wanted to keep alive."

"Really?" Quatre asked, his eyes shining in delight.

"Yes. Come on, you guys, move away from the door."

Once the selection was over, the inmates were allowed back in to go back to bed. Heero and Wufei crashed immediately, and Duo soon followed suit. However, Quatre found himself too hyped and jumpy from his brief brush with death to go to sleep. He lay still on the bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to close his eyes. He had been spared for Treize. Because Treize expected him to come to him. To be his lover. To be his slave. But he wouldn't do it, even if it was the reason he was living and not taken away to… whatever fate awaited those who were "chosen". He shivered a bit in Trowa's arms. Death was a scary thought.

A sudden shift against him startled him. "Oh, Trowa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered apologetically.

"No, you me wake not."

"Are you thinking about tonight too?"

"Yes."

"Are you scared?"

"Yes."

"Me too." Quatre nestled back against him, liking the way their bodies spooned together so nicely.

"Duo protect you." Trowa gave him a gentle hug around the waist.

"I know, but… there's only so much he can do."

Trowa seemed to puzzle over what Quatre had just said, so Quatre switched to French, as he had sometimes been forced to. Being the son of a politician was good; he could afford the best education, including languages. Five years of French with a private tutor were starting to pay off.

"There's only so much he can do. He said if we were chosen, he could not save us."

Trowa smiled softly as Quatre's alto voice changed to the more familiar language. Duo had encouraged him to try to always speak German, so he would become more fluent, but sometimes he simply did not understand.

"Yes, but he can do much more than most. He will not let us die easily." He suddenly turned away from Quatre, covering his mouth, coughing painfully. Quatre rolled over to face him, patting Trowa's back gently. Trowa coughed and coughed, harsh, rattling ones that shook his willowy body.

"Trowa? Trowa, are you all right?"

The hacking finally stopped, and Trowa turned back to him, swallowing thickly, his breath wheezing in his lungs. "Are you all right?"

"Y… Yes." Trowa swallowed again, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

Quatre wrapped his arms around Trowa's waist in another hug. Trowa held him tightly. "Quatre, I don't want you to die."

"I don't want you to die either," Quatre whispered softly. "You're the greatest friend I've ever had."

"Not as good as Duo."

"Better than Duo," Quatre argued. "Because we want… need… to be near one another. And Duo understands that and wants us to be together. I love you both."

Trowa smiled, reaching down to stroke the long, blond bangs out of Quatre's too-big, blue eyes.

Quatre smiled back, slowly sliding his hand up to touch Trowa's cheek tenderly. He had never touched another boy like this before, but it felt nice, not like Treize had touched him.

Trowa shyly turned his head to kiss Quatre's palm. Quatre jumped as a jolt of pleasure went through him like electricity. It felt so good… "Trowa, I love you."

"I love you too." Whether or not either of them meant true love, Quatre didn't know. All he knew was that he felt a connection with Trowa that extended beyond just friendship into something deeper, something unclear. And it made him feel good.

They lay down again, snuggling against each other til Quatre could feel Trowa's warm breath on his face. "Trowa?"

"Oui?"

"What are you going to do when the war is over?"

"I don't know," Trowa admitted.

"I… I plan to go home. Would… would you go with me?"

Trowa smiled brightly at him, but there was a deep sadness in his emerald eyes. "When we are free, I will be with you forever."

Quatre glanced up into Trowa's face, attempting to sit up, but Trowa held him down. "Trowa? What's wrong?"

"There is nothing wrong."

"You just look so sad."

Trowa didn't respond, stroking his hair gently in reply. Quatre sighed softly and hugged him around the waist. "I hate them."

"Who?"

"The Nazis."

"Why?"

"Because of what they've done."

"What?"

Quatre was getting annoyed with the one-word questions. "All of this. Death. Separating families. Destroying people's lives."

"I don't hate them," Trowa replied softly.

"Duo has said that too. Why don't you hate them for what they've done?"

"I hate what they've done," Trowa corrected. "But I don't hate them."

"I hate them."

"You shouldn't."

"Why not? Can't you see what they do?"

"I can."

"Then… why?"

Trowa thought for a moment before softly answering, "Because they are human beings too."

"No they're not."

"Yes, they are," Trowa argued before he turned away and coughed again, a few heavy chokes. Finally he turned back to Quatre, who was ready to argue back.

"When you see them pull out their guns and shoot someone because they are not standing up straight, how can you say they are still human?"

Trowa sighed softly. "What they do is horrible, yes. But… I cannot help but see the reason behind it. See a misguided people who are only following orders blindly."

"But that does not excuse what they've done."

"No… But human beings, by nature, are designed to survive."

"Designed to survive?"

"Greedy by nature."

"What do you mean?"

"If they do not follow orders, they will be killed, yes?"

"Yes…"

"Then why would they not save their own lives?"

"So… you're saying they are not evil because they are only trying to save themselves?"

"Yes. However subconscious it may be, that's their reason for doing the things they do."

Quatre pondered over that for a moment, still not accepting it, but… Trowa could believe what he wanted. And maybe, deep down on some level, he was right. "You're an amazing person, Trowa Barton."

Trowa laughed softly. "No…"

"Yes."

Trowa reached down to stroke his cheek gently, then hesitated. Quatre's eyes locked with Trowa's, and his breath caught in his throat, a nervous feeling bubbling up in his stomach. "T… Trowa…"

"Yes?"

Quatre hesitated himself, then slowly nodded and leaned forward. Trowa watched him before slowly leaning in and, a moment later, their lips met in a tender, soft kiss.

The world swam around them for a moment as they held the kiss, tiny hands going up around a slender neck, larger ones wrapping around the smaller's waist. Warm mouth pressed to warm mouth eagerly but calmly, embracing one another close.

Finally they separated the kiss, eyes bright, cheeks slightly flushed. Quatre's pretty, pink lips were slightly swollen, his cheeks tingling for unknown reasons as he stared up at Trowa, his breath deep and slow. "Trowa-."

"Shh. Enough for now. Go to sleep."

"But-."

"Sleep."

"I love you."

"…I love you too. Good night."

"G… Good night, Trowa."

The taller teen closed his eyes, laying down and pulling the thin blanket over his slender body.

Quatre lay awake for a while, staring at the boy's sleeping form. He had kissed Trowa. It was strange, but not unpleasant. So much better than when Treize had touched him. What did that mean? He had never really kissed anyone before except his sisters, and, occasionally, his father. He had been taught that kisses were for husband and wife, so did that make kissing Trowa wrong? He didn't think so… It was so confusing. He sighed and closed his eyes, going to sleep, his lips tingling when he remembered the gentle caress of Trowa's mouth against his.

It was the morning of June 6, 1944, that an announcement rang over the camp loudspeakers. "All inmates will return to their barracks until further notice. Anyone found outside will be shot."

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," Duo replied, stretching out on the bunk lazily as the others found their usual places on it.

"I wonder why they suddenly decided to give us a day off," Wufei mused softly.

"I'm sure something has happened to the Germans in their battle," Heero replied softly in a rare moment of actually speaking. "A major setback they were not planning."

"Perhaps they lost their control on one of their other concentration camps," Quatre replied hopefully, catching one of Trowa's arms in his own.

"Maybe." Duo stretched lazily, then rolled onto his side to face them. "Well, we have a bunch of free time now… So, let's talk."

"Talk?" Wufei wrinkled his nose at the prospect. "What about?"

"Us. I don't know much about any of you," Duo replied, sitting up and tucking his legs prettily underneath him. "So… I want to know how you all got here. 'Cept for Quatre, of course, since I already dragged that out of him." He gave Quatre a playful wink. Quatre smiled softly.

Trowa looked confused as to what was going on. Quatre leaned over to him and spoke to him for a moment in near-perfect French, explaining Duo wanted to know where he came from and how he came here to Auschwitz.

"So, who wants to go first?" Duo asked, surveying his little group of friends, his eyes sparkling. No one responded. "Okay, I'll go first. My family is from Stuttgart. I lived there all my life. In 1940, the Germans captured our neighborhood, and any people there who could work were sent to a factory there to make airplane parts. I went with my parents and was apparently seen as valuable enough to keep around instead of sending me away with the younger children. We lived in that factory on another floor and received two meals a day. I worked alongside my parents." Duo paused, staring off at the far wall thoughtfully.

"In 1943, we were taken away from the factory. We were in a ghetto for just over a month before my family and I were taken here to Auschwitz. I've been here ever since." Duo went silent, a faraway look in his violet eyes.

"What happened to your family?" Quatre asked softly after a moment.

"My older brother worked in the Sonderkommando for several months, but they are changed, a.k.a., exterminated every few months. He died almost six months ago. My mother was sent to the woman's camp at Birkenau. She died in the gas four months ago. Just before you all came. My father was sent directly to the gas when we arrived, because he aged so much that month in the ghetto. The three bedmates I was with since I arrived here… Two died from typhus, and one was transferred to another camp. I'm not sure where he is now."

Everyone was silent for a few long moments, contemplating what Duo had just told them. Duo had lost everything: his family, his friends, his home… Yet he was more alive than any of them, caring for them and having a smile for them each morning, happy to be alive, and happy to have them along-side him. It was amazing to consider, how someone could still be so cheerful after such hardship and suffering.

"Well, enough about me," Duo replied, turning to the group with his trademark smile carefully in place. "I want to hear about… you, Heero."

Heero's cobalt eyes narrowed just a bit as Duo pointed at him, then relented. "Very well… I grew up in a small town called Rosenheim, south of Munich. I lived with my Grandfather Jay all my life. The Nazis took over our town over a year ago and enforced the rules about where Jews could go and where we could live. Our house was in the middle of the area, so we were able to stay. I left home one day, just because I didn't want to be there, and a soldier grabbed me up off the street and put me in a truck with at least a hundred other people. They drove us to the train station, and we were taken here." Heero finished his story without any indication whatsoever that he was done, just stopping, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Wow, that sucks," Duo replied softly, leaning back on his hands, studying him. "Any idea what happened to your grandfather?"

"No."

"Why did you live with him?" Quatre asked quietly.

"My parents died when I was three in a fire at our house. I was at my grandfather's at the time, so I stayed with him." Heero shot him a glance that plainly stated he wished to continue this conversation no further. Quatre shrank back against Trowa.

Duo flipped his braid over his shoulder uneasily. "You worried about him?"

"No. He's a resilient old geezer."

Duo laughed brightly at that, shaking his head. "You're something else, Yuy. All right, Trowa, what about you?"

Trowa glanced up in surprise. "Oh…. I… I come from Paris first. I was gypsy there with family. We travel France, near Germany. The soldiers raid and come our camp. All women…" Here, Trowa hesitated. "I not know word…"

"Tell me in French," Quatre said softly.

Trowa leaned over, whispering in his ear, "Viol."

Quatre puzzled over that for a moment before comprehension dawned on him. "Oh… Raub. Rape… The women were raped."

Trowa nodded slowly. "Yes, that… that right is. My sister, Catherine, was one them…" Tears suddenly sparkled in Trowa's eyes, but they did not fall. "Our… our… olders were shot all, and young were put in a wagon, and the wagon on fire."

"Oh, god," Quatre whispered softly, his hand going to his mouth in shock. Duo put an arm around him gently.

Trowa looked away shamefully, coughing a moment before continuing. "We were sent to French camp… Drancy… We only there are for a week… Then we sent to Dachau, then Methausen. Catherine is Methausen now, I think… I then sent here, and I find you, Wufei." He looked up at the Chinese boy with a slight smile, which Wufei returned with a nod. "And then… Duo come for me, and now I am here." He hugged Quatre gently.

Duo smiled softly. "We're glad you're here, Tro."

Trowa smiled softly, then turned aside and started to cough again. Duo sighed softly as Quatre sat up and rubbed his back gently. That was really starting to scare him. Every morning now Trowa would wake up and start coughing for a good two minutes before he was able to breathe again. That could not be a good thing.

When Trowa's coughing was back under control, Duo turned back to the group as if nothing had happened. "How about you, Wufei?"

Wufei looked up from where he had been studying his lap. "Me?"

"You're the only Wufei here," Duo teased brightly. "Come on, what's your story?"

Wufei hesitated for a moment, but when he noticed even Heero watching him in interest, he relented. "I am from a small city called Heidelberg. My family came to Germany three generations ago. We lived in the same house ever since we came. When Hitler," Wufei spat the name out like spicy poison, "began imprisoning Jews, many Jews fleeing from the north to Switzerland passed through our city. We offered our home to them to protect them. Along the way, a family came to us, the Berkowitzes. They had three young children and no place to go, so my family hid them in our cellar. We hid them right before the beginning of the deportation of German Jews, in September of 1941. They said they had been able to run from the Nazis for a long time to avoid being put into a ghetto." Wufei paused for a moment, reflecting.

"We kept them with us for almost three years. Our neighbors suspected us, but no one turned us in. Until March of this year. The SS raided our house…" Wufei's tenor voice grew softer still. "My family and I were dragged outside… They made us lie on the ground… We could hear them ransacking our house, but we could do nothing." Wufei's eyes averted from the clustered group before him to over the edge of the bunk. "They found the family and dragged them out with us. The children… So young…" Tears seemed to shimmer in the Oriental teen's eyes before he quickly pushed them back as if they had not occurred. "They shot them in front of us…" He shuddered a bit as he remembered the spray of hot blood he had felt on his face when the bullet had pierced straight through the youngest girl, her lifeless body collapsing inches away from him, glazed, brown eyes scared and dull, staring straight back at him… He felt the pull of nausea in his stomach, but he forced it back.

"They made us stand by a truck, except my twin sister, Meilan… I could hear her screams… From inside the house…" Again, those damned tears welled in his ebony eyes, and, try as he might, he could not hold back one that fell down his smudged cheek. "The soldiers came back out, but she did not… One of the soldiers approached me…" His voice softened even more til the others could barely hear it. "'She your sister, traitorous swine?' He held up his hands, and… and they were scarlet with my sister's blood... 'You look just like her. It's a pity you're a boy.' He touched my cheek, his thumb on my lips… Her blood… on my face… And all I could do was stand there… And hate him…"

"God," Duo breathed softly, shattering the glass of the uncomfortable silence that had been building and building like a wall around them. "Wufei, I… I am so sorry…"

Wufei shook his head slowly, turning bloodshot eyes to Duo. "No… I don't need your sympathy."

"But there's nothing wrong with having it."

"Just don't." Wufei fought the urge to wipe his eyes. "She's dead, and there's nothing any of you can do about it, so just forget it. I'm here now, and everyone I love is gone."

"What happened to your parents?" Heero ventured softly. Had it been anyone else, Wufei probably would have yelled just then, but Heero's voice was more forceful than gentle.

"We were sent to jail. My father was killed there when they interrogated him. They wanted to know who else was involved with hiding Jews, but we knew none. My mother and I were sent here, and she was sent to the gas immediately. The Berkowitzes as well. I am the only one left of my family."

"Wufei… When I first met you," Heero replied, referring to the time when Wufei had grabbed his arms to keep him from attacking the nearest Nazi. "You seemed so strong… Everyone had just then been taken away from you… How could you still be so strong-willed then?"

"I… I buried them in my heart," Wufei replied, meeting his eyes with nothing less than heartbreaking blankness. "I could not help them, and I could not let myself die with them. I had to be strong to live, and so I was. That's all I could do."

In Trowa's arms, Quatre was shivering violently. He had thought that he had had it bad… Wufei had lost everything, and it had been rubbed in his face over and over again. How could Wufei have found the strength to keep on? How could any of them? They were the strong ones, and they were finding ways to carry on despite all the evil that was going on around them. How could the strong survive?

"Everyone quiet!" the leader of the block called from his room at the end of the hall.

Duo sighed, shaking his head. "Bastard. We have a free day, I don't see why we can't talk."

"Why did you never become a blockowy, Duo?" Wufei asked softly, looking up at him. "You've been here so long, and you could help so many people that way."

"Me, a blockowy?" Duo laughed, shaking his head. "I couldn't. I'm not cruel enough. They have to be ruthless."

"Why?" Trowa asked softly.

"Because they have to control everyone in their block, and they are punished severely if something goes wrong."

Quatre shivered and pressed closer to Trowa. "I don't like him. He's frightening."

"Yes. If you get on his good side, though, you get so many benefits." Duo almost looked wistful for a moment before shaking his head. "Wishful thinking. Anyway, let's get off of this subject. What do you all plan to do when we get out of here?"

That question surprised them all. Get out?

"What makes you think we are getting out of this hell alive?" Heero asked darkly, his cobalt eyes narrowed.

Duo met his gaze evenly. "If all we think about is how and when we're going to die, we can never truly live."

"But, Duo… We might not survive," Wufei replied slowly.

"That's true. But if we dwell on it, we're as good as dead anyway." Duo gave them a cheery smile. "So, come on, tell me. What are you going to do?"

Wufei hesitated before slowly replying, "I'm going to go home. I will reclaim our house, and I plan to get married one day."

"That will be wonderful," Duo replied, leaning back on his hands. "Are we all invited?"

Wufei felt the tiniest smile quirk at the corners of his mouth. "Yes."

"Good. What about you, Heero?"

The glassy-eyed teenager regarded him for a moment before answering, "I don't know."

"Well, you must have some idea," Duo replied. "Going home?"

"No."

"Got a girlfriend?"

Heero's eyes seemed to flicker for only a moment. "No."

"Gonna get a job?"

"Probably."

"As what?"

"I don't know. Is the interrogation over?"

Duo sighed, shaking his head. "You're no fun."

Heero merely glowered, crossing his arms over his chest. Duo sighed. "What about you, Trowa?"

"I… find my sister, Catherine, in Methausen… We… we go to Paris back…" Trowa glanced down at Quatre in his arms. "Then… I do not know."

Duo smiled softly. "Will you and Quatre stay together for a while?"

"I so hope," Trowa replied, giving the pretty blond a delicate smile.

Quatre smiled back before Duo asked him, "And you, Quatre?"

"I… I'm going to go home and find my sisters and my father," Quatre replied. "And we will go back to Berlin."

Duo's smile faded just the tiniest hint. Quatre still believed after months that his father was still alive. Perhaps his sisters were, but his father was guaranteed dead. "That sounds great, Quatre… But… what will you do if you don't find them?"

"I'll find them," Quatre replied, snuggling into Trowa's arms.

Oi, he was going to have to disillusion Quatre before the war ended, or he was in for major heartbreak when he found his family no longer alive. Duo plastered his smile in place. "I hope so."

Suddenly the blockowy stalked past their bunk, shooting a nasty glare upwards to them on the third tier. "What part of shut up don't you swines understand? Do I have to punish you?"

"No, Herr Blockowy," Duo replied. "We will be quiet."

The man gave them a sharp glare before stalking away. Duo gave everyone a pointed look before lying down on the blankets. They followed suit, lying side by side. It was silent for a moment before Quatre worked up the courage to ask, "What are you going to do, Duo?"

Duo thought for a long moment before replying, "I want to become a writer, and tell the world our story."

That made everyone quiet for several moments before Wufei replied, "I think that is very noble, Duo. People need to know what atrocities have been committed so they do not happen again."

"I agree," Duo replied firmly. "What kind of monsters would we be if we kept our stories inside of us when they can move the world towards peace?"

Quatre smiled softly. "I agree. That's so amazing, Duo. I wouldn't think of you as that sort of person."

"Why? Cause I'm crazy and hyper?" Duo gave him a sweet smile.

Quatre laughed softly. "I suppose."

Duo chuckled and suddenly ruffled Quatre's blond hair. "Well, doesn't mean I don't have a story to tell."

Quatre nodded and squeezed Duo's hand. "Will you tell about each of us?"

"Of course! You all can help me write it!"

"If we're still alive then." The words from Heero's mouth were bitter and low.

Duo sat up and glared at Heero. "Cut it out!"

Quatre began to cry again, nestling into Trowa's arms. "I don't want to die!"

"Shh!" Wufei hissed softly, giving Trowa a look that clearly stated to get Quatre under control again. "Do you want us to get in trouble?"

"N… No…" Quatre sniffed and wiped at his eyes with his ragged sleeve.

"No one's going to die," Duo replied on his other side. "Just calm down now, Quatre."

Quatre nodded slowly, his fingers tangled in Trowa's shirt. Trowa stroked his back gently, rocking them back and forth slowly. Duo's hand joined in, rubbing at Quatre's shoulders. He slowly wrapped Quatre in his arms, crooning softly in his ear, the way one would to a frightened animal. "Hey, Quatre, do you know what our block number means?"

"What?"

"Do you know what the number 19 means to the Jews?"

Quatre slowly shook his head. "Faith," Duo replied simply.

"Faith?" Quatre echoed back.

Duo nodded slowly. "Yes…"

"Faith." The word was almost a snort from Heero's throat. "What has faith done for us?"

"Heero-."

"There is no God!" Heero snapped at the braided boy, interrupting him. Quatre jumped in Duo's arms.

"Why do you say that?" Duo asked softly, rubbing Quatre's arms comfortingly.

"What sort of a God would let something like this happen to good people?"

"People start wars, Heero, not God."

"But God created people, and he gave them free will to do evil things like this."

"People chose to be evil," Duo replied. "Adam and Eve made that decision, and now that's just the way things are."

"So you don't think that what the Nazis are doing is evil?"

"Of course I think it's evil," Duo replied softly, giving Quatre a nudge into Trowa's arms. "I think everything they've done to all these innocent people is horrible and criminal, but that doesn't mean that it's God's fault."

"Then whose fault is it?"

"The evilness in the hearts of men."

"And who put that there?"

"You're not understanding a word I say."

"Yes I am!"

Trowa looked scared, and Quatre pressed close to him, wondering if what had began as a harmless thought would turn into a physical fight.

"You're saying that God made people evil, so therefore it's His fault that we are suffering the way we are."

"Yes."

"But you won't understand that people choose to do evil things. God doesn't tell them to do them. They just do."

"Then why doesn't God save us?" Heero demanded, his cobalt eyes narrowed dangerously at him. "Why doesn't he send the Messiah to save us? I haven't seen any Messiah coming with his heavenly sword to strike down our oppressors, have you?"

Duo was silent for a moment, and Heero gloated to himself for winning. "God doesn't exist."

Duo sighed and shook his head. "Heero…"

"Believe what you want, Duo, if that's what comforts you. But you're only fooling yourself."

Duo looked up at him with unreadable, violet eyes. "What comforts you, Heero?"

"…Knowing that I can do something to save myself and everyone else from these monsters, without the help of some deity who doesn't care."

"You must be miserable then," Duo said softly. "Since you can't really do anything to save people here without God's help."

Heero glowered at Duo. "Who says I can't?"

Duo raised a brow. "Are you planning something I should know about, Heero?"

"Shut up and leave me alone!" Heero snapped sharply, sitting up. He turned, pushing past Wufei, and dropping down to the floor.

"Where do you think you're going?" Duo demanded as Heero strode for the door.

"Out," Heero replied simply.

"You're not supposed to go outside now!" Duo protested. "Heero, get back here!"

Heero ignored him, grabbing the heavy door and pulling it open. "Heer-." Duo found himself cut off as Wufei's hand clapped over his mouth. The block leader had poked his head out of his room at the end of the block. Duo shushed himself, quickly lying back down. They couldn't get him any angrier at them, or they would be punished for it. But when he glanced at the main door again, Heero was gone.

Outside, the camp was deserted. It was a strange feeling. He was used to seeing it bustling with life. If that was what one could call it, anyway. Heero stood just beyond the door, taking a deep breath, feeling the warm air soothe his lungs. He didn't even know why he had been so upset by what Duo had said. But he did have a plan. He knew what he wanted to do, what he had to do. The only problem was getting the things he needed. He needed Duo for that. He leaned against the wall by the door, staring up at the sunlit sky. It was so beautiful. So wide and free. He missed freedom. Maybe if he stared long enough at the sky, he could just rise up into it, become part of it. Fly away like a distant cloud. Or like the smoke that drifted in black and white and gray puffs from the brick chimney at the edge of camp.

A sudden click near him startled him out of his thoughts, and he whirled around to see a soldier standing nearby, a handgun aimed directly at his head. He sucked in a breath, his cobalt eyes moving past the gun to the man that held it. He met long, blond hair, ice blue eyes, and tanned skin in a handsome face. A face that was very familiar.

"You," the man said, almost accusingly. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was getting some air," Heero replied, watching him carefully. If he was going to shoot, he probably would have done it by now, but he wasn't about to test that theory.

"I should shoot you," the soldier replied, as if reading his thoughts.

Heero took a deep breath, pushing himself off the wall and squaring himself right in front of the man, opening himself up to a shot right to the chest or forehead. A stupid idea, he figured, but he wasn't going to cower.

The soldier watched him before clicking the hammer off and putting the gun back in its holster. "But I like you, boy. You're strong. That's why I saved you that day when you came here. I don't want to be the one to kill you."

Heero's eyes narrowed a bit. "You're not much of a soldier then."

The man's lips curved upwards just a bit. "I guess I'm not. I didn't want to be. And I won't take your life simply because it's my duty."

Heero felt himself relax just the tiniest bit. "Oh?"

"Lieutenant Merquise!" came a call from nearby.

The soldier glanced worriedly over his shoulder, then turned back to Heero. "Get inside, or I'll have no choice but to kill you. Go!"

Not about to argue with the fact that he was being spared, Heero turned and yanked the door open, slipping inside quickly, closing the door behind him. He moved back to their bunk, hoisting himself up onto the third level. Wufei looked as calm as ever. Quatre looked as if he had been crying. Trowa looked tired, holding Quatre close against him. Duo gave him a motherly glare. "Don't ever do that again!"

Heero ignored him, lying down on the hard wood, closing his eyes, facing away from Duo. He was vaguely aware that everyone else lay down as well, but he didn't care. He needed to be alone right now, to collect his thoughts. He needed to plan.

(Yay for finished chapter! Please review! I'll love you forever!)