"And you expect me to believe that? You're sitting there covered in blood. *His* blood. What happened? Did he say no? And you wouldn't take that as an answer. I see you have a bruise on your face. Did he try to fight back? Is that why you tried to beat him to death? How long has then been going on? It's been a while, hasn't it? Some of those marks are at least a week old."

She grabbed his shoulders and shook him roughly.

"Tell me, you bastard. Tell me why you did that to Quatre. He wouldn't hurt anyone, so why did you?"

"I...I didn't. I had no idea..."

"Shut up. You make me sick. And I'll see to it that you'll get exactly what you deserve. I hope someone does to you what you did to my brother."

He looked up at her, his green eyes filled with pain.

"If I could take his place I would. Gladly."

He spoke with such honesty, that she looked taken aback for a second. But she quickly regained her composure. She continued to stare at him, as if trying to read his mind. Trowa felt unnerved under that glare. He looked back down.

"I.....I...would *never* hurt Quatre. He...I...he..means...everything to me."

The last part was said so quietly, that Iria had to strain to hear it. Her eyes narrowed.

"So, you wanted him so much that you forced yourself on him, is that it? You wanted to claim him. And when he said no, you tried to kill him."

Trowa's head shot up.

"No!", he yelled arduously, "I would never force Quatre to do anything."

"So, you weren't the one who raped him."

He looked at her, his face stricken. He tried to speak, but no words would come out.

//Quatre. Somebody.....raped....oh, no!..Not, Quatre. Why...but...not Quatre. He never did anything. He...oh..Quatre. This is all my fault. How could I let this happen to you?//

Iria watched the boy in front of her, as he struggled to deal with what she had just said. She saw the horror, and disbelief that was written on his face. She wondered if she had made a mistake. And she questioned if this was the person who had attacked her brother. It was the way he was reacting. Nobody could fake shock like that. She reached out, and touched his arm. Trowa looked at her, his eyes grief laden.

"I thought you knew. I thought you were the one who....But you aren't are you?" Trowa shook his head mutely. Too overcome to speak.

//I was supposed to protect you. I was supposed to die for you, to shelter you from harm. And I failed. And yet, you still told me you loved me. Even after all that, you loved me. I'm so sorry...//

Trowa collapsed, and started to cry again.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered brokenly, over and over again.

Iria knew he was being sincere. And she knew that this boy was more than a friend to her brother. She pulled him close, and let him sob on her shoulder.

"You love my brother, don't you." She could feel him nodding.

"Did you ever tell him?" He pulled back, and looked at her, his eyes red rimmed, and swollen.

"Yes, Just yesterday. And he said....he said...he loved me too," he whispered hoarsely.

Iria smiled at him sadly. "I'm sure he does."

Trowa looked at her gratefully. He reached out, and held her hand.

"Thank you. By the way, my name is Trowa."

She looked a little astonished.

"*You're* Trowa? I've heard a lot about you. I'm Iria."

"You have?"

She smiled again.

"Yes, Quatre talks about you all the time. Or he did. I haven't talked to him in months. He used to go on and on about you. I'm glad....I'm glad that you feel the same way. He really loves you."

Trowa wiped away his tears, and squeezed her hand. He looked at her intensely.

"I'm going to find the bastard who did this, and I'm going to kill him. That's a promise."

Iria shivered. He had said that with such deadly calmness, and she knew that he meant it. She could sense that this boy was serious. But instinctively she knew he would never hurt Quatre. Trowa stared off towards Quatre's room. His eyes taking on a fierce gleam.

//Yes, my Quatre. I promise you that. Whomever hurt you will pay dearly. For every mark on you, they'll get ten. I'll kill them for this. I'll never let anyone hurt you again.//

* * *

Quatre was fighting the darkness. It was all around him, pushing him from all sides, urging him to give up. And yet he fought it. He waded through it like some thick marsh. And everytime it became too much, and he wanted to surrender to it, some invisible force propelled him forward. There was no light, only the pressing blackness.

Quatre felt nothing. Neither pain, or comfort, sadness or joy. Just the urgent need to resist the surrounding gloom. He waded through it, searching for the end of it, never knowing if he would reach it. He could feel himself sinking, being sucked into that eternal dimness. And he struggled, but to no avail.

It was too strong. It pulled him down into its pits. But as he yielded to it, he felt lighter. Like he was floating in some misty dreamworld. And suddenly he was jarred into a new setting. One he was frighteningly familiar with. Quatre was back at one of his mansions. How he had arrived there was a mystery. But as he walked up the flight of steps, he knew why he was there.

He reached the top of the staircase, and headed down the hall. He stopped in front of the partially opened door. He didn't have to go in, he already knew what was going to happen, but that force drove him through the doorway. To the nightmare that was playing out on the other side. Quatre entered, and yes, it was all the same. The beautiful, polished four poster bed. The waxed hardwood floors. The blood everywhere.

The boy in the center of the room, whose life was about to be cut short. The boy was kneeling there, his long chestnut hair unbound, and swirling around him. His black ensemble torn, and spattered with blood. Quatre looked into that tormented face, Duo's face, and tried to run forward, to stop the events which would alter their lives forever. But his legs wouldn't move. He was rooted to the spot, forced to watch everything happen again. But he knew that he had to.

He stared at Duo's face raptly, those violet orbs standing out more against the red smears on his face. The blood in the room seemed to multiply, flowing until it obscured all else. But Quatre still saw the gun being raised. He screamed as the realization of what was going on hit him. Finally noticing the audience, Duo locked eyes with Quatre. Pain filled violet met with horrified blue-green. And Duo had spoken.

"Take care of Heero for me Quatre. I love him you know."

There was a snarl and the gun fired, and Duo slumped over. Quatre, no longer restrained, ran to Duo's side, cradling the boy's body in his arms. Wufei stood over the pair, the gun held firmly in his hand. He reached out, and yanked Quatre back, forcing him to release Duo. Wufei knelt, and turned Duo over, the boy's life blood coursing out, and soaking everything around it.

The Chinese boy wrapped Duo's warm fingers around the gun. Quatre sat there, clothes crimson colored, eyes glassed over. He felt Wufei's warm breath on his neck, heard his voice whispering in his ear.

"Well little Quatre, you know my secret. I guess I'll have to kill you."

Deep in shock, Quatre couldn't speak. Then he felt the wetness of Wufei's tongue, as it slid along his ear. He tried to move away, but Wufei gripped him tightly.

"I've always liked you, Quatre. And I've wanted you for the longest time. If you promise to be mine, then I'll let you live. For now."

Quatre struggled against him, feeling dirtied by his touch.

"I think I would prefer death." Wufei released him.

"Fine, it is after all, your choice. I would have enjoyed you, but I'm sure I'll find another toy to amuse myself with. Perhaps Yuy, or maybe one of your lovely sisters. You have so many, one won't be missed. Or Barton."

Quatre turned to face him, eyes wide with fear. Wufei noticed this, and continued.

"Yes, Barton I think. I would love to make him scream in pain. To break that emotionless mask."

Quatre's heart constricted. He couldn't let that happen to Trowa, or anybody. He knew what saving them would cost him, and he was terrified. But he knew that he had to do it. For Trowa's sake. Wufei saw the fight leave Quatre's eyes, and knew that the Arabian would surrender to him.

"Or, you could submit to me, and I would promise to spare them."

"If I do...you would promise not to hurt him? And you would honor that?"

"Yes, My word is my honor, I would never go back on it. As long as you are mine."

Quatre merely nodded.

//Forgive me, Trowa. I will no longer be innocent for you. I will no longer be worthy of you. But I couldn't bear to think of this happening to you. Not when I can save you.//

To save his loved one's Quatre turned himself over to Wufei. They sealed the bargain with the blood of Quatre's virginity. Quatre felt the rough hands on him, all over him, the pain. He struggled against it.

He wanted to change his destiny. He fought Wufei, and broke free, running from the house. He shoved through the mist, and clawed through the darkness. And then, and then he felt. He felt the pain the consumed his entire body. The throbbing of his head, the fire in his chest, and every bruise and scar. And the slight squeezing of his hand. He opened his eyes, squinting at the blinding light. One beautiful emerald eye came into focus, and that was all he needed to see. Quatre met that eye before passing back out.

* * *

When Quatre opened his eyes to look at him, Trowa had found he couldn't breathe. It was as if, the sun had broken through the clouds, and shed golden light upon the world. It had been for only a few seconds, but that was enough. Quatre had been in surgery for ten hours.

Trowa and Iria had sat together, and attempted to seek solace from one another. And finally, one very weary doctor had approached them. He had said that Quatre's prognosis wasn't good. He had lost a lot of blood, and his injuries were extreme. They had repaired all they could, and now all they could do was wait. Trowa wanted to jump up screaming that all they had been doing was waiting, but Iria held him back.

The doctor had said that the next twenty-four hours would be crucial. And that after they had passed, they would have a better idea of Quatre's diagnosis. The doctor had also told them that Quatre was in a coma, and there was the possibility he would never wake up. Iria had gasped, and began to cry. It was the final blow. Trowa stood there feeling ultimately powerless.

//No, Quatre will wake up. He...he..has to. And if...if he...doesn't? What...what will I...do?//

Trowa felt a little piece of his fragile soul shatter. The thought of losing Quatre hurt so badly. The nurse showed them to Quatre's room, where they maintained a constant vigil. She promised to notify him when Heero woke up. And there he sat, the whole time wondering what he would do if Quatre didn't wake up.

And what he could have done to prevent this. And mostly why someone would want to harm Quatre of all people.

//Quatre never willing hurt anyone. He always tried to let people surrender. He never wanted to shed blood. And yet, here he is. It should have been me. I should be lying here. What did he ever do to deserve this? It just...it just doesn't make sense. And what...what if he doesn't wake up. What will I do?//

He gripped Quatre's hand like a lifeline. And to him it was. For without Quatre, he didn't have a life, a heart, a soul. Iria watched him the entire time. She sensed his inner turmoil, and it matched her own.

//Oh, Quatre. You're my little brother. I'm supposed to protect you. How could someone do this?//

They sat there in silence, both lost to their demons. The only sounds in the room were from the numerous machines keeping the blonde alive. Each one vowing not to leave, until their angel woke up.

And when he did, it was as if the heavens had shone upon them. Those blue-green orbs, though dulled with pain, were still magnificent enough to leave them breathless. And though they opened only briefly, they carried with them such hope, it was more than enough. Quatre had caught Trowa's eye, and the tall boy wondered if the blonde was truly a celestial being.

And he gazed in awe at this divine creature that had once again managed to save his soul. After Quatre had gone back to sleep, he and Iria had snuck out for a few minutes. She had to leave, she wanted to get her belongings from her hotel in the other city, and move them here. Quatre would be here for a while, and she wanted to be close by. She had hugged Trowa, and told him she would be back in a few hours. He promised to watch over Quatre. He returned to Quatre's room, and resumed his seat by the bed.

//Thank you my angel. Thank you for giving me hope. I'll help you mend your wings. And I'll never let anyone hurt you ever again.//

Iria walked out into the parking lot, the strain of the ordeal finally getting to her. She noticed how empty, and bleak the parking lot seemed at this hour. As she reached her car, she shuffled through her bag for the keys. Then she heard a voice behind her.

"Hello, Iria."

That was the last thing she heard, before a sharp pain erupted at the base of her head, and her world turned to black.