It was happening again. He was cold, battered, and alone. He shivered and curled up even tighter. He hated being alone. It hurt worse than the physical wounds… He raised his head to see another boy standing there. "Trowa…" Trowa never answered. He simply turned and walked away, never even looking back. "No, Trowa wait!" He tried to reach out to him but he was too weak and the slightest movement hurt fiercely. "Don't leave..."

Quatre sat up in his bed, gasping for air. He was back in his room, in the safe house he and his fellow pilots were staying in at the moment. Quatre shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. He had that dream again. He shut his eyes when a cold breeze ruffled his shirt. Quatre looked up in time to catch a glimpse of powdery snow. A smile lit up his angelic features as he murmured softly, "It's snowing..." He hadn't seen snow since he had been five...

A.C. 185

Snow fell from the dark gray skies as a small blond boy watched the drifting frost from a window. He turned to look at the man standing behind him with sparkling blue eyes. "Chi-chiue, it's snowing!" Mr. Winner shook his tawny bangs out of his eyes, only to have them fall back in place. "So it is," He said, smiling, "I told you it would." Quatre ran up to him and was swept up into open arms. Snuggling against the warm chest, he looked up at his father and asked, "Can we go play in the snow later?" Mr. Winner ran his hand through the fluffy blond hair and held his son closer. "Of course, Quatre. Of course."

A.C. 195 - Present day

Trowa watched as Quatre perched on the window seat and gazed out at the snow-covered world. His heart almost stopped when the blond turned around and looked at him with large blue eyes. "Trowa?" "Nani?" Quatre stood up and slowly walked closer. The blond pilot fidgeted slightly and bit his lip.

"I-I have to tell you something." When the tall boy remained silent, he blurted out, "Trowa, ai shiteru." Still silence. Quatre looked up to stare into the twin barrels of a gun. Trowa's gun. The deep green eyes were nearly black with unspeakable emotions and three words spilled out from clenched teeth.

"Quatre, get out." Wide blue eyes filled with tears as the boy ran out of the room. Trowa stood there for a moment before dropping the gun and turning to follow. //Oh gods, what did I just do? //

Heero appeared in the doorway and said flatly, "We have a mission."

Five minutes later found all five pilots in the hangar. It was dark but Trowa didn't need any light to know that Quatre had been crying. He wanted to apologize but he was busy listening to the mission plan. Heero pointed to map of the OZ base on his laptop interface and said, "This base has disks with plans for new military bases and mobile doll units." "-And our mission is to get those disks and blow the base up!" Duo waved his arms around for emphasis and ignored Heero's glare. "So," the Wing pilot continued as if Duo had never opened his mouth, "Three of us infiltrate and get the disks and the other two hold off any mobile dolls. Duo, you, Quatre, and Trowa will go into the base. Wufei and I will stay outside." "B-but Hee-chaaaan! I wanna stay with yoooouuu!" Duo's whine nearly shattered the boys' eardrums, not that they were complaining. Much. "Maxwell, you kisama!"

The five gundams blasted out of the hangar and into the cold night. Trowa tried to keep his mind on the mission but every once in a while, his mind would stray back to a certain blond pilot.

~*~Flashback~*~

Blue eyes gazed at him hopefully as the boy said, "I love you."

The same blue eyes filled with tears as Quatre pushed past him and ran away.

~*~End Flashback~*~

"How could he possibly love me?" Trowa muttered as he maneuvered HeavyArms to the OZ base. "I could never deserve him - I'm no one, just Nanashi." His conscience wouldn't leave him alone. Trowa couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something bad was going to happen and it bothered him to no end that he didn't know what.

HeavyArms, Sandrock, and DeathScythe landed and their respective pilots jumped out, all wearing thick winter coats to keep warm. They pried open an air vent and climbed inside. One by one, the three pilots dropped to the floor and headed straight for the main computers. Duo rummaged through a pile of papers and sneezed as dust blew into his face. "Do you guys see it?" Two no's answered his question. The self-proclaimed Shinigami opened the disc-drive, even though he knew it probably wasn't there. To his dismay, two discs popped out landed in his hand. He stared like an idiot before yelling, "Hey, I found-" Two pairs of hands were suddenly clapped over his mouth, effectively silencing him. Trowa pulled his hands away and looked around uneasily. "This was too easy," He muttered, "There were no troops whatsoever and they wouldn't have kept valuable information in such an obvious place." Quatre looked from an irritated Duo to the door and asked, "What should we do then?" "RUN!!!" Duo grabbed both boys and dragged them into the hallway. Big mistake.

OZ soldiers surrounded them from all sides. Duo reached into his pocket and grinned maniacally. He pulled out two smoke bombs and hurled them onto the floor. He knocked a soldier out and called to his friends, "Hurry up!" His violet eyes widened when he saw that a number of soldiers were holding them down. Quatre raised his blond head and gasped out, "Duo, forget about us. Just get out!" Not stopping to protest, DeathScythe's pilot broke through the barrier of smoke and climbed back out the ventilation system. Heero's gundam blasted the remaining mobile suits and turned to face the other boy. "Duo, where are Quatre and Trowa?" Eyes blank and troubled, Duo simply responded, "They've been captured."

Trowa woke up in one of the holding cells. Apparently, the soldiers hadn't seen it necessary to put him in restraints. He stretched his stiff limbs then looked around for Quatre. The blond boy was nowhere in sight. "Where is he?" The door suddenly opened and light poured in. Trowa shielded his eyes from the intense brightness and stood up, face expressionless as ever. The man that stepped in was a good three inches taller than the brown haired youth. He had tawny ginger colored hair and hazel eyes. He extended a hand to the boy but when Trowa didn't move, he introduced himself. "I'm General Osaki, commander of this base. It's my job to interrogate you and then hand you over to my superiors." Emerald eyes held no feeling as the pilot said stonily, "I have nothing to say." The hazel irises glinted as he led the boy out of the cell and to the surveillance room. "We'll see about that."

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Quatre woke up to find someone running their hands over his body. He tried to push the hands away but his hands had been shackled and the metal cut into his wrists each time he moved. "T-Trowa?" He sat up and found three guards standing over him. One knelt beside him and cupped his face in rough hands.

"You're a cute one, you know that? Such a pretty little thing shouldn't be fighting." The soldier kissed him with bruising force. He pulled away, pinned the blond to the ground, and proceeded to rip his clothing off. Quatre squirmed, only to receive a hard slap across his face. The older man gripped the thin shoulders and pressed rough kisses against the youth's face and neck.

Quatre couldn't help but let out a soft whimper as the hands roamed over his chest and to his lower belly. //Oh, Allah, please not this...//

He was forcefully turned onto his stomach and a heavy weight settled onto his legs. The rough concrete scraped against tender skin and left large bloody patches. There was a rustle of fabric and the soldier's pants were thrown onto the floor. Tears trickled from Quatre's eyes and he screamed when the man's length was thrust deep inside him. He pulled out almost entirely, then thrust back in, ignoring the whimpers of pain.

"Onegai... yamete..." Quatre choked out. Tears fell onto the hard floor and mixed with the pools of blood.

*******************************************************************************

Duo paced back and forth. His boots made the wooden boards creak. The three remaining pilots had completed their mission and made it to their safe house, which was nothing more than a log cabin, without attracting any attention. Now if only Heero would agree to rescue Trowa and Quatre...

Prussian eyes watched his lover as he started yet another round of ranting. "I don't get it, Heero! Can't we go after them now?" Duo stomped over, arms waving and violet eyes flaring with frustration.

Heero looked at him blankly and said in an equally flat tone, "They'll be expecting us. We have to think of something before rushing in there." "Besides, they might have already escaped." Wufei added.

Duo plopped onto the floor and muttered, "This is so not cool, they need us and you, Mr. Spandex Soldier are- mmphf!" Wufei cursed and clutched his bleeding nose as Heero grabbed the ridiculously long braid and pulled Duo close for a long kiss.

The pilot of DeathScythe pulled back long enough to growl, "I still think we should find them." Anything else he wanted to say was cut off as the two began to have their daily fill of X-rated activities.

*******************************************************************************

Trowa quietly followed General Osaki into the surveillance room. Several monitors were glowing, casting a strange shadow around the room. Osaki whipped around and said, "Talk." When the boy continued to say nary a word, an evil grin lit up the man's face.

"I guess we'll just have to do this the hard way then." He showed Trowa one of the nearby monitors. The one visible green eye widened as he took in what he saw. "Oh God... Quatre!"

The Arabian was pinned onto the floor of a cell, lying in a quickly growing pool of blood. His blood. He was naked and his wounds were plainly visible. Two guards were standing over him. A third was kneeling over the boy, thrusting into him repeatedly. Trowa turned and rushed for the door when Osaki grabbed his arm. "Uh uh, just where do you think you're going?" "To save my friend." Trowa's voice was completely monotone. His grip on the pilot's arm tightened as the older man stepped closer.

"You're not going anywhere unless you start talking. Then again, you're not going anywhere at all..." He pulled the boy closer for a heated kiss.

Trowa considered just shooting the guy before biting down on the invasive tongue. The general pulled away, wiping the blood off his mouth. "You little-" He raised a hand to hit him but wasn't quite fast enough. Osaki stared down at the gaping hole in his stomach and the blood gushing over his hands. The last thing he saw was the solemn boy standing there, holding the still smoldering gun in his hand.

Trowa watched the man slump to the floor. He turned and ran for the holding cells. As he ran, a single tear fell down his cheek. //Quatre, gomen nasai. Just hold on...//

The man finally pulled himself out. Quatre was shaking violently, unable to control himself. He froze when he heard the rasp of a knife being drawn. A scream pierced the air as the second guard ripped a deep gash in his back.

Quatre let out another cry of pain as he was cut twice. A fourth gash spilled more blood onto his back and dripped onto the rough stone floor. He was rolled over onto his back and stinging pain ripped through his beaten body. The man knelt between his legs and trailed his hand up Quatre's leg.

He gripped the youth's inner thigh and asked huskily, "Do you want it?"

Blood matted hair shook around the boy's head as he whispered, "Yamete.. onegai.."

He squeezed the soft skin harder and left dark bruises in the imprint of his hand. Still holding the bloody knife, the soldier made a deep gash in the pilot's side. "You do, don't you?"

"Iie, I don't." A bloody line opened up across Quatre's stomach. "Say it and I'll stop." The man pressed the blade against the blond's cheek and watched blood well up and stream down the bruised face. He squeezed the milky thigh as hard as he could, eliciting a sharp cry.

Tears fell from the sapphire eyes and mingled with the blood as Quatre whispered, "Onegai.. I-I.." That was all the soldier had to hear. He pulled away and brushed off his uniform. Quatre lay on the ground and sobbed. The three walked out of the cell and shut the door, leaving the blond Arabian in darkness.

This was just like his dream. He was nearly blind with pain and he had never felt so cold in his life. He curled up in a tight ball, his naked body wracked with pain. But what hurt the most was that he knew Trowa would probably never come.

"He won't come..." His voice was choked and barely audible as sleep overcame him.

*******************************************************************************

Trowa rushed through the cellblocks. "Quatre, where are you?" He whispered to himself. Suddenly, he heard loud voices and instinctively ducked into the shadows. Three guards were walking through the corridor.

He heard snatches of, "That was a cute blond." and "Too bad he just wouldn't go along with it." Trowa's temper flared and he stepped out, gun drawn. The three men were caught off-guard and were surprised to see him. Emerald eyes narrowed as Trowa fired three times, each bullet hitting their mark. Just as the last soldier fell, there was a brilliant flash of light.

He was standing in the middle of a battlefield. The ground was littered with bodies and gore. To his left was a dried up ditch and to his right, standing on a small hill, was a gnarled old tree, more dead than alive.

Trowa looked around and saw only rotting corpses. A flash of gold caught his attention. Broken, bloodied wings shielded a small figure lying in the middle of the battlefield.

Golden strands were streaked with blood and the frail body was bruised and beaten, but Trowa knew who it was. "QUATRE!" He ran to the boy's side and gathered him into his arms. Blue eyes darkened with pain cracked open and focused on the brown haired boy.

"You came." His voice was hoarse and faint. Small, trembling fingers touched his face and brushed against his bangs. Trowa fought back tears as he pressed a kiss to the blood matted hair and whispered, "Of course, little one. I could never leave you."

A flash of light blinded him and he found himself standing in a cell, holding Quatre in his arms. He vaguely remembered shooting the three guards down and going into the cell. Trowa stared in a mixture of shock and horror as he saw the gashes and bruises covering the blond's body.

//What did that vision mean? Quatre, I didn't mean to hurt you this way. // His thoughts were cut off when he heard soldiers pounding through the base. He stripped off his winter coat and wrapped it around the broken body. Holding Quatre close, he ran through the halls and into a pack of OZ soldiers. He watched the guns take aim as another flash blinded him.

Trowa was standing in a dark abyss when he heard footsteps. He turned to see a cloaked figure walking toward him. It was holding Quatre in its arms.

Instead of drawing his gun, he simply asked, "Who are you?" There was a small chuckle, although there was nothing funny about the situation.

"Why Trowa Barton, that's a silly question," The hood fell back to reveal… himself, "I'm you." When Trowa remained silent, he went on, "I'm the part of you that's never known love or friendship and yet that was the only thing you've ever needed. I'm the part of you who always feels the need for silence and loneliness. And I'm the part of you who rejected this angel's affection out of fear and disbelief, never healing his broken wings." Stepping closer, he carefully placed Quatre in Trowa's arms. "Never doubt his love. You'll never know how much you've needed it until you lose it and you came very close to doing so."

He found himself outside. Snow was falling all around him and behind him, the OZ base was in smoky ruins. His turtleneck did little to keep him warm but at the moment, Quatre needed the coat more than he did. Trowa looked around the dark forest and cursed silently. The safe house was at least another mile away and it wouldn't be easy to get there in the snow. He stopped for a brief moment to catch his breath and check Quatre's condition. The Arabian's lips were starting to turn blue despite the other's efforts to keep him warm.

He picked up his pace, sending snow flying everywhere. The harsh wind stung his eyes and made it difficult to breathe but he kept running. They were nearly halfway there, just a little further and they'd be safe. He pressed Quatre closer to his body and whispered, "We're almost there. Just hang on."

*******************************************************************************

Duo and Heero were still at their 1x2, 2x1, psychotic-Gundam-pilots-do-the-bump-'n-grind, now XXX-rated activity when the door flew open and Trowa stomped in, covered in snow and holding an unconscious Quatre. Needless to say, the two were more than a little mortified. Both set a record for putting on their clothes and gathered around Trowa. The green-eyed boy set his burden onto a cot and peeled the jacket off. For the first time in his life, Duo Maxwell was speechless. Trowa looked at the two boys and their state of disarray and said quietly, "I'll take care of him."

The two went into another room to resume their *ahem* activity, leaving Trowa alone to tend to Quatre's wounds. He found a basin of water and cleaned all the blood off. He dug out a roll of bandages and disinfectants and treated the various cuts and scrapes, all the while trying to be gentle. An hour later, he was done. He put everything back where he had found and spread a blanket over the blond boy. He brushed blond strands away from the youth's forehead. "Quatre…" He laid down on a second cot and watched the peaceful face. It wasn't long before delayed sleep kicked in.

Two hours later, he woke up lying next to Quatre, who was still sleeping. Sweat dripped profusely from the pale brow as the small blond tossed and whimpered. "No more… onegai…" "Quatre, wake up." He shook the thin shoulders and wild blue eyes flew open. "Trowa… I-I-" "It's okay," He whispered, wrapping his arms around the boy, "I'm here." Quatre buried his face into Trowa's turtleneck and cried. After a while, he calmed down and his nearly hysterical sobs had morphed into quiet sniffles.

"It's all right, little one." Trowa bent closer and gently kissed the remaining tears away. He set the boy back on the cot and stroked the blond locks. They were silent before Trowa asked, "Quatre, can you ever forgive me?" The blond looked at him with big blue eyes. "What do you mean?" Long fingers reached out to caress the soft cheek as he whispered, "I've hurt you so much, only because I was too scared to love." He tentatively touched the cut on the high cheekbone. "You must be in so much pain." "Daijoubou, Trowa. Ai shiteru…" A tired smile lit up the angelic face as he drifted back to sleep.

Remorse filled eyes softened as Trowa leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to the bare shoulder. "I promise to protect you always, my little one, my angel…" He took the small hand and squeezed it gently. Trowa rested his head on Quatre's pillow and exhaustion took its toll. Just before sleep claimed him, he whispered softly, "Ai shiteru, my little angel."

He was standing in the same field, but there had been a great change. No longer covered with bodies, grass and clusters of flowers grew and flourished. The nearly dead tree blossomed with leaves and the dried up ditch was now a flowing stream. But that wasn't what caught his attention the most.

Quatre lay at his feet, eyes closed as if he were asleep. All traces of blood or injury had disappeared and he looked so peaceful. Glorious white wings covered his bare body and wreath of white roses crowned his gleaming blond hair. Trowa was about to turn and leave so his angel could sleep when long feathery lashes fluttered open to reveal bright blue pools that pinned him where he stood.

"Trowa." Quatre's voice was gentle and innocent. He fit in perfectly with his surroundings, not like himself. He belonged on the battlefield this peaceful field once was. He should have been standing in the middle of the field of the dead and dying, not in this quiet haven, before this lovely creature. Quatre held out his hand, his eyes soft and pleading. "Stay with me." Trowa knelt down on one knee on the grass and took the soft hand in his rough, callused ones. He kissed the creamy skin, his lips caressing the delicate fingers. "I'll always be here for you my little one. Always and forever."

A soft breeze blew over long blades of swaying grass and warm sunlight shined on two figures lying in the field. The silent soldier held his precious angel close and brushed his lips against the golden hair…

A sweep of brown
A halo of gold
Eyes of the forests
Eyes of the sea

Child of silence
Child of the desert
Dark and light come as one
The assassin and the angel

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As usual, all standard disclaimers apply. Please e-mail me and tell me what you think but be nice!!!