Angel's Punishment

By DragonMage

Notes: I know it's taken me _forever_ to get this done but I hit a rough spot and I needed time to sort it out. Plus, life bites when it keeps getting in the way. *pout*

Four years later...AC 195...

Treize Khushrenada sat, staring into the burning fire before him, with a glass of golden brandy in one gloved, elegant hand. He lifted the drink to his lips and sipped slowly at the burning liquid, reveling in the soothing sensation of the brandy going down his throat and settling in his belly. He needed that. Especially after the rather big shock he had just experienced.

He had heard of Chang Wufei, heard of the boy's fierce fighting capabilities and sense of honor and justice. He knew of the boy's desire to kill him, to end the war. It made perfect sense, of course. What he hadn't heard or knew of was Chang Wufei's striking resemblence to his long lost angel. But then who would have known what happened to their general four years ago when he had been barely twenty years old? No one, not even Zechs, his best friend.

In fact, Chang looked so much like his lost angel that Treize had been convinced he had came back--until Chang pulled out his sword and demanded a duel with a hate and anger that Treize did not recognize in his angel at all. He had fought the boy, of course, since he wasn't going to let himself get killed because someone only *looked* like his angel. But he hadn't the heart to kill him. When he had held his sword to the boy's neck, ready to finish him off and have one less Gundam pilot, he saw his angel in the boy again. He had pulled away his sword, made some smart remarks and watched as the boy ran off, defeated.

<And now I sit here, drowning myself in brandy as I try to make sense of what the hell just happened,> Treize thought furiously as he finished off his brandy and poured another glass. The moment he had seen the boy's face, he saw his sweet angel. He saw the young ethereal creature he had fallen desperately in love with, and his heart shattered in remembrance. He had thrown himself into his work, after his angel had been cruelly ripped away from him because they broke the rules, into his purpose in order to forget about his angel. To stop dreaming about him in his arms every night, to stop looking for him in the study, library or bedroom. To stop expecting him to show up with his shy questions and wonderful curiosity. Gods, he did miss his angel. He loved him so much, still did. And to even try to kill an *image* of his little love...Unthinkable. Even if it did mean his death.

<Am I a fool? This boy is bent on killing me. He has nothing of my angel inside of him. Nothing...and yet I can't kill him. He will kill me. Is that something I want?> Treize wondered as he felt the alcohol slowly take its effect over his mind and body. Soon he would drift away into an alcohol induced sleep and probably wake up with one helluva head ache, but he needed the soothing numbness of the burning liquid to keep any old emotions from surfacing. What was he going to do? Someone who resembled his angel was out there killing, fighting in the war, getting blood stained on his hands. Was this boy his angel incarnated? But if he was, Treize never expected it to be like this, to have his little love be a warrior in such a war. Why couldn't his angel be someone else besides a soldier? He could have been an artist, or a student. Why did he have to be a killer?

Treize's heart ached painfully and he downed more and more brandy to make this thoughts go away for just one night. He couldn't deal with it anymore. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and think about all this choas later tomorrow morning when the pain dulled just a little.

~*~

Wufei stared out of the window of Trowa Barton's circus trailer. It was late and all of the place was asleep, quiet save the muffled sounds of the animals moving about in their cages. He stared off at nothing as he tried to sort out the confusion inside of him.

<I was defeated by Treize Khushrenada,> he thought numbly as he leaned over and rested his forehead against the cold class window. <I...I was beaten by my enemy. Such defeat I never expected. What am I going to do? My honor...my pride...gone. All gone. Gone...gone... gone...> He closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep. His defeat haunted him. He couldn't believe he had been defeated. He had went in there, determined to win, positive he was going to win! And yet, he didn't. He lost. Khushrenada bested him. What was wrong? Did he do something wrong? Why couldn't be defeat his enemy? The true evil of the universe. Wasn't evil supposed to fall by the sword of the good? Something *was* wrong with him.

<I don't understand anything. I've lost my purpose. Will I ever get it back, along with everything else I lost to him?> Wufei sighed softly and opened his eyes. He needed to get some sleep. He was going to head out early tomorrow to get some things done while he tried to sort through his mixed emotions. He needed to do *something* or he would go insane. He hated feeling useless. It killed him inside. He wanted--no *needed*--to be needed. He had to be useful. He had to have some kind of purpose or he would lose his way completely.

He moved away from the window down to the thin futon laid out on the ground. Trowa was sleeping on the small bed off to the side of the trailer. The Latin boy looked almost peaceful. Almost. Wufei could see the clear lines of confusion, stress, everything a soldier went through in a war like this.

Laying down slowly, Wufei allowed his body to relax and fit to the hard ground. He could easily fall asleep on the hard ground. The Chinese were known for their wood-hard beds and pillows. Once he was settled, he closed his eyes and slowly drifted away, hoping there would be no nightmares tonight, no dreams, just a peaceful nothingness.

~*~

A few months later...

Wufei slid his sword it its sheath and strapped it around his slim waist. He walked over to the mirror in the small bedroom of the current safehouse. This was the first time he had ever roomed with the other pilots and it was a bit strange. He wasn't used to them and they were a bit strange to them. Especially the American and Arabian. They were too cheerful. They felt too much. He didnt' understand them. Why were they so...optomistic in this war? It didn't make sense to him.

He picked up a comb and quickly tied his hair back. He wished he didn't have to wear his hair back like this, in fact, he wished he didn't have long hair to begin with. But he had been raised to follow traditions and tradition meant he had to wear his hair long. Soon, it would be down his waist and he could probably have to end up braiding it like the American or tying it up into a Chinese bun. He wasn't sure. In a time like this, a Chinese bun would seem very strange. Ah, but when did he ever care about what other people thought of him?

When he felt he was ready enough, he moved over to the window and pulled open. He couldn't go out the front door since there was a risk the other pilots might catch him and ask him where he was going. He didn't feel like telling them. His fight with Khushrenada was his alone and he wasn't going to involve the others. Besides, even if they were involved they would never understand. How could they? <We all fight for different reasons because we all come from different backgrounds. They would never understand,> he thought a bit regretfully. He didn't have many friends and he was afraid it was going to stay that way. Who wanted to be friends a justice obsessed Chinese boy? Certainly not him!

He stood at the edge of the window and leaped down. He landed quietly on the soft grass, his legs bending a bit from the force. He straightened and ran for his motorcycle. He had a duel to finish.

~*~

Treize sighed heavily as he set aside the last of the paperwork he had to do for the night. It was getting late and he knew it was time to turn in or else he might not get up on time tomorrow morning. No, that was a lie. He always got up at the same time no matter *how* tired he was the night before. His damned body was trained to do so. He couldn't deny it, really.

He stood up from his oak desk and stretched luxuriously. It was then he heard a soft, deliberate scrape of a shoe on the ground outside on his balcony. He slowly turned around and watched as a shadow moved behind his French curtains. Then the curtains parted and his angel--No. Not his angel. Someone else who looked likes his angel--stepped through and revealed himself.

Chang Wufei stood there, the sword clipped around his waist. His long hair was tied back in its severe ponytail, his baggy clothing ruffling in the evening breeze. His dark eyes were slanted and dark, emotionless. His expression revealed nothing.

<If he just lets his hair down...> Treize quickly banished the thought. No, he wasn't going to think that way. This *wasn't* his angel--no matter how badly he wished it to be true. The boy was the picture perfect image of his little love. But how could someone resemble an *angel* of all creatures so perfectly? It didn't seem...*right*. It almost seemed like sin to resemble an angel of God.

"General, I have come to challenge you again," came the soft, low declaration.

"I see. Well, allow me to get my sword," Treize said calmly even as his pulsed raced. He walked over to the wall at the opposite side of the room and pulled a sword off it. He turned around and watched as the boy pulled out his own sword and held it out in a fighting stance.

Then, silently this time, he rushed forward.

Blow for blow was met as the two fought, the older man having the advantage with his height and natural strength. Wufei made up for his size with agility and speed. They two dueled fiercely, both refusing to back down from the fight, both too filled with pride and honor to admit defeat of any kind.

Soon, both were sweating and panting with exertion, yet they still continued to fight. Wufei mixed his fighting with a bit of martial arts, dodging blows with an incredible flexibility.

But, one bad move was made, and Wufei was kneeling in front of General Khushrenada with the blade at his neck. He didn't dare life his head as shame filled him.

"Finish me off," he said quietly.

Treize shook his head. "No."

"If you don't, I will kill you," Wufei said coldly. He pushed his neck forward, piercing the skin and allowing a few drops of blood to fall, glittering like a finely shined rubies, mixing with his sweat.

"Are you so confident that you can take my life?" Treize asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it is my destiny," Wufei said ironically. He smiled cynically, a bitter smile that cut Treize to the heart. If this boy *was* his angel, he had been changed by this war terribly.

"Stand up," Treize said softly, lifting his blade. Wufei had to stand if he didn't want to get cut even further. For a moment, Wufe hesistated. Then he slowly stood.

"What are you going to do with me? Throw me into a jail?" Wufei asked quietly. "Or will you do me the honor of killing me. I lost this duel, I must pay with my life."

"Who said?" Treize asked, almost losing his composure and allowing the anguish to show in his voice. Wufei still refused to look him in the face.

"Because it is only honorable," Wufei answered.

Treize lowered his sword. "Honor? What is honor when a young boy is sent into war to kill and fight like a seasoned soldier?"

"I am not a boy!" Wufei shouted furiously, lifting his dark eyes to glare at Treize. "I am not a boy," he repeated softly. "You underestimate me. Just like that woman."

"You *are* a boy and I'm *not* underestimating you. I know what your abilities are. I would be a fool if I didn't know them," Treize said, shaking his head slightly. "How old are you? Fourteen?"

"Fifteen."

"Barely fifteen...and you're killing? In the past you had to be eighteen years old before you could enter a war. What has this world become?" Treize questioned.

"Don't ask me. I'm just a soldier. All I do is fight and kill, just like you said. I don't know the answers to your questions." Wufei shrugged. "Are you going to kill me or let me go."

"Stay. I wish to speak to you," Treize said softly, giving over to his weakness. He wanted to be near this boy, learn this boy's mind. <He might not be my angel, but he's damn close.>

"Why?" Wufei asked, frowning slightly.

"I wish to have company who understands me," Treize murmured. He turned around, wondering if Wufei was going to stick a knife in his back as he exposed himself. But he felt and sensed nothing as he replaced the sword. When he turned around, Wufei was standing just where he had left him. He hadn't even made a move to retrieve his fallen sword. He just stood there, accepting his defeat and the strange consequence.

Treize stared at the boy for a moment. "Come with me into the study."

Wufei nodded and followed.

~*~

Wufei tried not to gape in amazement as he looked around the general's "study". It wasn't a study. It was a goddamn library. There were books all over the place, wall to wall save one that had a fireplace. There were also books piled on the floor, on the tables. There was a drinking cabinet off to one side of the wall with the fireplace. Comfortable, velvet chairs were placed strategically in front of the fireplace for the most comfort. A small table was set between the chairs. There was a half-empty bottle of brandy and an empty glass on the table. It left a rather...homey impression.

It was amazing, to put it shortly. Wufei had never seen such a wonderful place before. He had never seen so many *books*. His secret passion. He couldn't read now that he was part of the war, but oh, he did love and miss it dearly. To be able to pick up a book and just sit down with enough time to read it all...Someday he hoped he could do that again.

"I see you're impressed," came Treize's soft remark. There was no hint of amusement in there. It was just a fact.

"Very," Wufei admitted. "I have never seen such an impressive private collection before." He paused. "This is all yours?"

"Every single one of them. I am very fond of reading," Treize said quietly, smiling slightly as he walked over to the table and picked up the brandy and empty glass. He really didn't think Wufei drank. He was only fifteen, after all. Hardly the legal drinking age. <But what does age have to do with anything when he is barely fifteen and fighting in this damned war?>

Wufei nodded slowly as he unconsciously wandered over to one wall and ran his fingers over the leather bindings of the books. They were so perfect, they all matched. It was... fascinating. He pulled out one book and started flipping through it, mesmerized. He was half-way down reading one page when he realized just what he had done. He stopped and quickly shoved the book back, embarassed. He shouldn't have given over to weakness like that. He slowly looked at Treize out of the corner of his eye, expecting something. But all he got was Treize staring at him with the most strange expression. What had he done besides pull out a book?

Treize was amazed when he saw the look of delight on Wufei's face. The boy had actually cheered up just by picking up a book. <Maybe there still is some...child or innocence in him even after all of this. But maybe it's too much to hope.>

"Do you like my collection?" the general finally asked, breaking the silence. He walked over to the drinking cabinet and returned the bottle of brandy and the empty glass to its rightful place. He turned around to see Wufei staring at him with unblinking dark eyes.

"Yes." Wufei paused. "Is that bad?" He turned away from Treize, unsure about what to do. Here he was, in the company of his enemy and he didn't feel strange or bad at all. In fact, it felt...nice. And he hated and liked it at the same time. He hadn't been so at ease in such a long time, and he knew he shouldn't be at ease with his enemy at all!

"Of course not. Who told you it was bad? Why don't you sit down? Is there anything you'd like to drink?" Treize asked, watching as the boy slowly did as he was told, sitting down on one of the plush chairs in front of the fireplace.

"No, thank you," Wufei said, shaking his head. He paused. "What do you want with me?"

<Other than to take you into my arms and find out if you *really* are my angel, nothing,> Treize thought melancholy. He sighed mentally and sat down beside Wufei.

"Nothing, really. I just wanted to talk to you. I just want some company in this lonely night," he finally said. He leaned back into the chair and looked over at Wufei. "Where did you come from?"

"L5," Wufei said softly.

"How was it like?"

Wufei was silently as he slowly assessed Treize's question. Then he opened his mouth and started talking. They ended up talking all night until it was too late and they both knew Wufei would have to leave the grounds now or risk getting caught.

"This night has been very interesting, Treize Khushrenada," the Chinese boy said before he left.

Treize nodded and waved good-bye.

~*~

"Hey, Wufei! Whatcha doin'?" Duo Maxwell asked curiously as he plopped himself down beside his friend on the long grass of the field not so far from the current safehouse. The day was just ending, the sun sinking down into the horizon, sending its golden rays into the sky.

Wufei turned and nodded at his American friend. "Hello, Duo."

"You thinking about something important?" Duo asked, cocking his head to the side. He knew these times to be Wufei's brooding moods. The Chinese boy was always inclined to sitting down somewhere and just stare off at nothing while his mind worked at a million miles an hour, questioning, wondering and overall trying to make sense of everything around him. Duo understood that it was important to find yourself sometimes but he didn't like it when Wufei did it for too long. He didn't believe it was healthy.

"Well, not necessarily important...But baffling," Wufei admitted. He pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. If Treize had been there he would have had had a heart attack over the familiar gesture.

"Really? Care to talk about it?"

Wufei looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to phrase his question the right way. "Duo, have you ever met someone who seems so familiar to you it's not even funny but you can't put your finger on where you've met them before?"

Duo shook his head. "Sorry, can't say yes to that. What happened?"

"I don't know. I just...met someone and...I *swear* I've known him before but it's impossible! I couldn't have." The Chinese boy shook his head. "It's impossible because I've never been off L5 before the war and I *know* he's never been to L5."

"Who's the mystery man?" Duo asked teasingly.

Wufei shook his head and smiled slightly. "Sorry, I can't tell you that."

"Why not?" Duo asked, looking offended although Wufei knew it was far from the truth. Duo would respect his privacy.

"Because then, I'd have to kill you."

And that had Duo rolling in the grass, laughing his head off.

~*~

Wufei pushed the door open to the empty cabin he had found and stumbled inside. Even from the lack of blood, he was smart enough to slam the door shut before sinking to the floor. The whole world was spinning and he couldn't seem to get a grip on things. [1]

He took a deep breath and tried to get his head together but it was so hard. He had lost a lot of blood escaping from the base he had inflirtrated and blown up. He hadn't expected the guards to suddenly show up. They had open fire at him. Although many of the bullets just grazed him, one went through his shoulder completely and another was now lodged in his left calf muscle. His clothes were bloody and torned and he had this feeling he wasn't going to last, not without help.

<Gods, I might die,> he thought fuzzily before he passed out against the door.

Treize was sleeping in the bedroom when he heard someone open and slam the door shut downstairs. He frowned and got out of bed, pulling on his clothing before making his way slowly down the stairs to the living room with a gun in hand. What he saw was unexpected.

Chang Wufei was unconscious against the door of his cabin, and clearly getting blood everywhere.

"Well, damn," the General of OZ murmured, wondering what he was supposed to do now. He placed the gun on the coffee table and walked over to the boy, checked him over before carefully lifting him into his arms and carrying him to the guest bedroom. The blonde Russian tried to ignore the familiar feeling of having the small body in his arms.

After Wufei was safely placed down on the bed, Treize went off to find some first aid supplies. He had to stop the bleeding and wrap up the wounds before he could declare the boy okay.

When he returned to the bedroom, Wufei was still out and the bleeding was getting even heavier. Cursing softly, Treize set to work.

The first thing he did was undress the boy before doing anything. He couldn't have anything in the way while he worked. He managed to stop the bleeding of shoulder enough to wrap the bandages tightly and putting some more pressure on it. Then he carefully--while wincing the entire time--removed the bullet from the boy's calf muscle. He quickly washed the wound and bound it before searching the rest of the boy's body for anymore wounds.

"Ah, there, done," he whispered when he was finally finished. He wiped the blood from his hands with a damp, now turning pink towel, and stared at the pale, sleeping face. It was so hard to not believe that this was his angel. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the boy since their last duel. He always ran the long conversation over and over again in his head, remembering everything that had left those soft lips. The boy was very intelligent and a wonderful speaker. He had a lot on his mind and he wasn't afraid to voice them. In that little time they had spent together, just talking, Treize had learned a lot about the boy's personality without asking anything personal.

<You're so much like him, do you know that? You still have that innocence behind everything. You never understood people, and you still don't. They will always confuse you. I believe that was your single and most enduring flaw,> Treize thought affectionately. He reached out and brushed his fingers down the soft cheek before tangling his fingers in the silky strands of hair. He suddenly remembered the single night he had spent with his angel before he was taken away. His heart ached and he had to blink away stinging tears. He loved his angel so much, and missed him even more. He couldn't hate God for taking his angel away but he thought it was wrong and unfair. Why hadn't He allowed them to be together? They loved each other yet even God couldn't, or wouldn't, see that...Then what was God?

Treize pushed away his thoughts and stood up with the soiled bandages and towels. He made his way to the bathroom and quickly began to clean everything. It gave him something to do as he tried to figure out just what was going on and how he was going to deal with it. He was rinsing out the towel when a moan of pain coming from the adjoining bedroom caught his attention. He dried his hands and grabbed a bottle of strong pain killers from the shelf and a glass of water. He walked back into the bedroom with them and found Wufei's eyes open, glazed over with pain and confusion.

"Here, take these," the Russian man said gently, lifting Wufei's head. He slid the pills into the dry mouth and poured some water into the mouth, urging him to swallow them. Once the pills were down, Treize eased Wufei back down and brushed his hair from his face.

"Treize..." the boy sighed, closing his eyes. "I missed you..." Then he was out again.

Treize sat there for a long time, staring blindly at the boy as he ran the words he had just said over and over again in his mind. Could it be...?

~*~

Wufei woke up to the worst head in the world and a burning pain in his shoulder and leg. Overall, he felt miserable. He moaned softly and tried to open his eyes but they were so heavy. He tried again and again, determined to gain some sort of consciousness, when he felt a warm hand on his forehead and cheek. He sighed softly, suddenly comforted, and leaned into the warmth.

He dimly remembered, some part of him, of being touched, of being loved by large warm hands. He remembered words of love spoken in the dark...he remembered the feeling of being loved so thoroughly he thought he'd die from the happiness in his heart.

But even as he remembered, he quickly forgot as he opened his eyes and stared fuzzily at whoever was hovering in front of him. He blinked and tried to clear his vision. When he finally did he thought he was going to scream at the injustice of everything.

The man in front of him was none other than Treize Khushrenada.

<Ah, damn, why him? This must be his cabin! Shitshitshitshitshit. This is *not* good,> Wufei thought frantically. He struggled to sit up but the pain in his shoulder brought him back down. He fell back and winced as the pain lanced through him but he refused to make any noises.

"You shouldn't move. You've got some pretty nasty wounds. Do you want some more painkillers?" a soft, deep voice asked him.

"No," Wufei gritted. "I don't want to be knocked out."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to harm you. If I wanted to, I would have done so a long time ago."

"How long have I been out?" It took all his energy to voice that question but he had to know.

"Four hours."

"Damn." Wufei sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think through the fog of pain. He knew no one was going to worry about him at the safehouse for a while. They always took pretty long to get a mission done. As long as they didn't get the suspicion he might be dead, everything was okay.

Hopefully.

"I suggest you don't move. It's better if you just relax and let your body heal," Treize said calmly.

"I can't stay. I have to go," Wufei said, shaking his head slightly. It resulted in the world suddenly spinning out of control again. He felt like he was going to throw up but he wasn't going to get sick in front of Treize of all people. He had his dignity, damn it.

"You can't go anywhere in this condition," Treize pointed out. "But if you think you can make it out the door of this cabin, then I'll let you go. If not, you stay and get better. And I swear to you, I won't harm you in anyway. It's dishonorable to kill someone who can't even sit up."

Wufei glared balefully at Treize. Then he turned his head away and sighed. "I know my limits when I reach them. I can't get out of this bed, not without help, and you know that."

"Yes. I know." Treize smiled and shook his head. "Don't be too stubborn, Wufei. Just rest and let your body heal. It's the wisest thing to do. You're only mortal."

"I sure as hell ain't the Perfect Soldier," Wufei snorted. He turned and looked at Treize. "Why are you helping me? I would be better off dead to you and your forces."

"Yes, well, I couldn't simply let you bleed to death all over my white carpet. Do you know how expensive it is to get blood stains out of those things?" Treize asked in all seriousness.

Wufei's lip quirked. It was the only sign of amusement but it was all Treize needed.

~*~

"Is that interesting?"

The achingly familiar question formed in the same tone of voice startled Treize. He looked up from his book to find Wufei standing at the doorway of his study. The Chinese boy was leaning a bit too much against the doorway, his face pale and shadows around his eyes. He looked like a ghost.

"What are you doing up?" Treize demanded. He closed the book with a snap and stood up, looking a bit angry at Wufei's activity. Especially when the young man knew he was injured. Was he trying to make his injuries worse?

"I couldn't stay in bed all day. I'm sorry, but I'm just not the type to louse about, trying to get better." The Chinese boy shrugged, his shoulders brushing against his loose hair.

"I think it's better if you 'louse about' as you put it. It's better than agrivating your wounds," Treize snapped. He dropped the book onto the table and walked over to Wufei. Without thinking, he lifted Wufei gently into his arms, carried the boy over to a plush, velvet chair and placed him down. "If you're insistent about not staying in bed, fine. But you have to sit down and not lose any more energy than you already have. You can't heal like this."

Wufei stared up at Treize with expression of shock and embarassment at the caring tone of the Russian man's voice. No one ever cared about him before. And they certainly didn't carry him like that...He hated to admit it, but it had been pretty nice. There was something good about knowing you're being taken care of.

"What's wrong?" Treize asked when he noticed Wufei's expression.

"You...Never mind. Do you have anything to read?" the Chinese boy asked quietly, looking away and staring at the fire burning in front of him.

"Of course. What would you like?"

Wufei frowned. He couldn't see much of the small library around them in the chair. He started to stand up. "Um...I'll just get up and--"

"Oh no, you don't." Treize gently pushed the boy back down and went off to grab any books that might interest Wufei. When he was done, he had a nice stack in front of the Chinese boy. "Here. See if anything here interests you. I'm going to go make tea."

Wufei smiled up at him. "Th...thank you." It had been a little hard to say it to Treize, who was supposed to be his enemy, but in the end it wasn't so bad.

Treize smiled and nodded before leaving the room to make the tea.

~*~

When Treize finally came back with the tea, Wufei was sound asleep in the chair. The hand bookmarking the large hardcover novel he had picked up told the Russian man that Wufei had tried to read a few pages before the loss of blood, exhaustion and drugs took him over.

He pulled the book from the Chinese boy's hand and bookmarked it with a spare ribbon and placed it down on the table. Then he gathered the small, seemingly-fragile body of the Chinese boy into his arms. Wufei moaned slightly but never opened his eyes as he turned his head and buried his face in Treize's neck. He sighed softly before settling comfortably against the Ruassian man's chest.

Treize felt like his heart was going to break. Wufei was so innocent in a paradoxical way. He was a killer yet he was still so sweet and unsure. He was just a boy in so many areas of life. Yes, he's killed. Yes, he's seen suffering. Yes, his illusions of human good overall was in tatters. But even through all of that, of all the things that would make him a hardened warrior with the mind of a matured man, Treize knew that Wufei was still an uncertain fifteen year old boy trying to figure everything out in life. Because, frankly, his life was only just starting.

Pushing the door open to the guest room with his shoulder, Treize walked into the room and over to the bed. He carefully, and with utmost care, placed Wufei down onto the bed and tucked him in. And then, giving into temptation, he sat down and watched the boy/angel sleep.

~*~

Treize started awake when he heard some whimpering sounds and Wufei thrashing beside him. He had fallen asleep sometime during his Wufei watching and was now laying down beside the Chinese boy on the large bed.

"Wufei?" Treize frowned worriedly and reached over to wake up the Chinese boy who was obviously caught in a nightmare. His face was twisted in pain and sorrow, his fists clenched tight. "Wufei!" He shook the boy even harder. "Come on, Wufei. Wake up. It's only a dream."

Wufei gasped and his dark eyes flew open. He stared at Treize blankly before recognition set in. He sighed in what sounded like relief and reached out, with one small hand, and touched Treize on the arm.

"Treize..."

"Yes, Wufei?"

"Don't go away."

Treize smiled, his heart aching at Wufei's words. "Never, Wufei."

The Chinese boy smiled sweetly for a moment before closing his eyes and falling back asleep.

~*~

"Here, have some soup," Treize was saying a few hours later after Wufei had woken up from his nap.

"What is it?" Wufei asked as he reached out and took the small mug. He sniffed it and raised an eyebrow at Treize.

"It's just plain chicken soup. It's not going to kill you," Treize said dryly as he sat down beside the young boy and smiled at him. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. I'm still a bit dizzy but other than that and the pain in my leg, I'm fine," Wufei said, shrugging. He lifted the mug to his lips and took a small, tentative sip. His eyes brightened. "This is pretty good."

"I am happy to say that I'm a decent cook," Treize said, almost beaming at Wufei's small praise. He chuckled and watched as Wufei took another, longer sip. "Once that's done, I'll bring you some pills and you can either go back to sleep or read a book."

"I think I'll read a book. I hate sleeping too much." Wufei wrinkled his nose at the thought of more sleep and took another sip of soup.

Treize nodded and went to get the pills, minus the sleeping pill. When he came back Wufei was already half way through the mug of soup, his cheeks flushed from the warmth of the soup, his lips damp and slightly red. He looked up at Treize with warm, velvet eyes and the Russian man was sure his knees were going to go out on him and that was *not* a good thing. He managed to get to the bed though, before he fell, and gave Wufei the pills. <What this boy does to me is not good. No, not good at all,> Treize thought ruefully.

"Treize."

"Yes?"

"Why are you *really* helping me?"

Treize sighed. "Must you question everything, Wufei?"

Wufei placed the mug down on the nightstand beside the bed and smoothed back his hair. He looked at Treize with a very serious expression. "Yes. I have to or I won't understand anything at all. All my life I have not understood things. I have read books, I have studied people, yet nothing I do ever helps me understand why people do the things they do." He paused, his expression thoughtful and almost sad. "You're the General of OZ. You're the other side of the war, part of the reason why this war is still going on. Yet you won't kill me. You're actually helping me heal. Why? I'm your enemy. I fight you. I destroy your bases. My intent is to kill you!" Wufei sudddenly, paled, a wave of dizziness taking him over. But he shook it off. "I don't understand... Why are you even bothering?"

"Do you really want to know the true reason why I'm doing this?" Treize asked calmly even as his insides roiled in turmoil.

"Yes."

Treize moved in closer, never taking his eyes off Wufei. He moved until he was only a breath away from the Chinese boy's face. "I'm doing this," he murmured, "because I am infatuated with you. Your beauty captures me and I can't bear to kill it. Is that the answer you wanted?"

Wufei was, to say the least, stunned. He stared at Treize in disbelief even as his cheeks colored. "I...You..."

But before he could get another syallable past his lips, Treize already had them. The kiss was gentle, soft, with banked passion on Treize's side. Without meaning to, Wufei responded to it. His lips moved with Treize's, shyly tasting the other man. Then, at Treize's little nudge, he opened his mouth to the general. The kiss deepened considerably. He stiffled a gasp as he felt Treize's tongue inside of his mouth, an erotic play of tongues that melted the Chinese boy's bones and made him weak from the passion.

Then, the strange sense of familiarity set it and Wufei almost moaned out loud. But he merely sighed and wrapped his arms around Treize's neck, pulling the older man closer, needing the touch of another human being, especially one who was kissing him so sweetly.

Eventually, they had to breathe.

"That was...amazing," Wufei breathed, staring at Treize in wonder. His dark eyes were warm and hazy from the kiss, his lips parted and swollen.

Treize smiled and reached up to smooth Wufei's hair back. "Yes, it was."

"But we can't do this anymore."

"And why not?"

"Because I'm your enemy! And I'm not going to change over to OZ's side."

"I never asked you to." Treize looked down at Wufei with sincere eyes. "I'm just asking you to visit me once in a while when we're in the same area." He sighed heavily and pulled the Chinese boy in for a tight hug. "I really do care about you, Wufei, and I want to be your friend. I know we're on different sides but...but if we could just be friends on the side, leaving the war outside the door..."

Wufei swallowed. "I'm not sure I can do that. It's...it's going to be hard."

"Without a doubt," Treize agreed.

Wufei melted against Treize. "All right. I'll come and visit...and...we'll be friends." <Because I don't think I'll be able to kill you now,> Wufei thought sadly.

Treize smiled and held Wufei even tighter, his long arms encircling the all too small body of the Chinese pilot.

~*~

A few days later...

"Hey, Wufei! It's about time you got back. What the heck happened?" Duo asked anxiously as he met his friend outside on the porch of the current safehouse.

"I got shot," Wufei replied, wincing slightly as he put too much weight on his left leg. "But I'll be fine. I managed to get the bullet out."

"Damn," Duo breathed. "Come on, let's go inside and I'll call Sally to get you looked over."

"Thank you, Duo."

"You look like hell. Where have you been all this time?" Duo asked as he helped Wufei to his room.

"In a safehouse somewhere..." Wufei waved vaguely and dropped down on to his bed in exhaustion.

Duo shook his head and helped Wufei get comfortable before leaving the room to call Sally.

Once Duo was gone, Wufei opened his eyes and stared unseeingly up at the ceiling of his room. He thought over everything that had happened since he took one step into that cabin Treize had been living in and almost groaned outloud. What was he doing? He was playing with the fires of Hell! He sighed and closed his eyes. <I'm being punished. Someone out there is punishing me by having me befriend my enemy...and...and care about him.> With that last thought, Wufei drifted off.

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Well, that's that! *V* I hoped you people liked it!

[1] And here starts the scenario of any cabin or blanket fic...*laughs*