I carried Heero to bed. Asleep in the passenger side, his seat reclined so he could lean back, resting his head on the window. I just couldn't bring myself to wake him. So, I slid into the driveway and turned off the van, then slipped around and eased his door open. The seatbelt, which I had insisted he wore, kept him from falling out as the door opened. Once the door was open I unfastened him and slipped him into my arms. From there I managed to get him into the house without waking him, though the door was tricky. Of course, it would have been more tricky if it weren't unlocked. I would have to speak to the boys about that, though we were so far outside of town that it was unlikely we would be robbed.
Once in the house I found that, as expected, all the other boys were in bed. I was still early in the morning, though I had yet to get to bed. I headed straight for the stairs once inside, and couldn't quite resist the temptation of putting Heero in my bed instead of his own. After Duo's operation earlier, I just didn't feel I could stand sleeping alone again, so I slipped Heero into my bed and pulled off his shoes and socks. Then I changed out of my clothes, which I'm sure I had been wearing longer than recommended, and slipped into bed beside Heero. He slipped easily into my arms and I couldn't help a sigh of contentment. This was how it was supposed to be.
It was not, however, supposed to wake me up five hours later.
"Leave me alone!" I whined, turning on my stomach and pulling the pillow over my head.
"Master Zechs, please!" Wufei huffed, pulling the pillow from my head, "Someone from Collar is on the phone. They said it was important!"
I growled something most unpleasant under my breath, but got up.
"Stall them while I wash up. I'll be down in a minute," I told him. He nodded once and scurried off, while I shuffled into the bathroom to brush up. It took me about five minutes to get presentable and throw on a shirt, but I figured if they called me at this time of day then they could wait.
Although, I noticed as I headed downstairs, it seemed to be much closer to midday than I previously expected.
"Still on Collar time, I see," the young man on the commented. I didn't feel the need to correct him, so gaining no response from me he soon continued. "It happens to most masters, I'm told. But, to business. My name is Don. I'm calling on behalf of Collar and as a representative of the Owner. I'd like to speak with you about the claim you filed against a Mr. Anderson and Mr. Whitefield."
"A... who?"
"The two guards you claim attacked your two slaves."
"Ah. The assholes," I said, making the younger man chuckle.
"Yes. Now, did you, or any other masters, or any slaves owned by another master witness this alleged attack?"
"I witnessed it," I said, my tone hardening, daring him to doubt me.
"Ah, that's excellent. I see you've already filed a report and the Collar doctor has submitted a report on the injuries of Shinigami. The second slave did not have enough injuries to file a grievance over, but due to the fact that Shinigami had not been transferred into your care before the injuries were received you are entitled to the full purchasing price of the slave."
"But what about the guards that attacked them?" I wondered. I couldn't care less about the money, but I wanted revenge.
"I'm getting to that. Collar will pay for half of the purchasing price of Shinigami and the guards will be responsible for the other half."
"You must be paying them a damn huge amount if they ever want to be able to pay me that much," I said distastefully. Again, the man laughed.
"Oh, we're well aware that they will never in their lives be able to pay off that amount of money. So we'll be auctioning them off to repay you."
"You'll be what?"
"We'll sell them. It's part of their contract, that if they rack up a debt to Collar over a certain amount we can take their possessions to repay it. And, of course, the most expensive thing they own right now is themselves, so we'll put them into training over the summer and sell them in the fall. The smaller one will probably bring a decent price among the male masters at Collar, and we're going to try to pitch the larger one at the females at Collar. Though we may have to do some enhancements on him first."
"I... see. Do you often have to sell the guards?"
"Rarely. We impose severe penalties on guards who are caught harassing the slaves, but we can't always watch them. I have been told that it is not uncommon for a guard to seduce a slave. The slaves allow it because they don't want to make trouble, and because they enjoy it. But, regardless, attempting to seduce a slave as unpredictable as the Shinigami was a stupid idea, and they obviously went too far by damaging him."
"I understand. Please contact me before you put those two up for auction."
"Yes, sir. Have a good day," he said, and hung up, which was the best thing he could have done, because I was very close to reaching through the screen and tearing his head off. He had just confessed, without guilt or shame, that they allowed the guards to force themselves up and rape the slaves without any consequences. He had even gone as far as to say the slaves liked it. And he implied that had Heero been alone or had Duo not been hurt so badly nothing would have been done.
And now, to top it all off, I hadn't thought the guards could be punished too severely, and I had been proved wrong. Even I couldn't wish the life of a slave, of constant humiliation, rapes, and beatings upon them. Death, I could easily sentence them to, but this... this was hell.
And, of course, it made me a bit ill that not only was I the cause of this, but I would also be the remedy. To save my boys, and all the other slaves, I would now have to rescue two people who almost deserved to be there.
All in all, it made for a very disagreeable morning, and I went downstairs with a sour stomach and an ill disposition. Which is why I was so surprised to smell something delightful wafting up the stairs. In the kitchen, all four of the boys were gathered, Heero at the table with a glass of milk and a plate of cookies, Wufei at the bar with another plate of cookies and a glass of tea, Quatre stirring a bowl of something, and Trowa removing cookies from the oven.
"Master!" Quatre squealed, smiling delightedly. He was wearing a frilly yellow apron, and I couldn't imagine where he found it, but it looked good on him. Underneath, strangely enough, he was still sporting his long blue and white striped pajamas and blue slippers. The other boys were all also in pjs, but they ranged from Trowa and Heero's shorts and a tank top to Wufei's traditional Chinese clothing.
"What are you doing?" I wondered, smiling as he ran up to hug me.
"I found a recipe for oatmeal cookies and you had applesauce in the fridge, so I wanted to make my favorite cookies for everyone. Is that okay?"
"Of course. But applesauce and oatmeal? What kind of cookies are they?"
"Oatmeal apple, of course. My own recipe," he said, bouncing back over to the counter. It seemed that the two days of boredom and rest had done him some good. "It's my own special recipe. Try one," he insisted, holding one out for me pleadingly. I could no more resist that face than I could purposefully hit a kitten with my car. So, with a hint of trepidation, I took a bite of the cookie.
"Quatre, this is great. Did you really come up with this?"
"Yeah. I used to pester the cook to let me play with the spices at home. We made all kinds of weird dishes," he said, a hint of melancholy on his face. Then he was back to scurrying around the kitchen, mixing and adding and tasting and as jolly as he had been. But I had caught that glimmer of sadness. I wished that I could destroy it, but even I could not manage that. Instead, I took a seat beside Heero and enjoyed the feeling of the kitchen that morning. And then Quatre spilled a bowl of dough and Trowa caught a towel on fire in his hurry to clean it up. And then it was perfect.