Warnings: NCS, a little bad language

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters do not belong to me; never have and never will, more’s the pity. Please do not sue. I only write for enjoyment, and do not make a penny, or any fraction of a penny, for my work. Comments and criticism are welcome, and flames will be hoarded by my GW muse, they amuse him so. Arigato for reading!

Quatre and Con were pulled roughly out of the jeep by two members of Rimbo’s gang. They were then taken into a large warehouse near a dock, obviously abandoned. Quatre glanced back to see Wufei being carried by Lambert to another door in the warehouse. The Chinese pilot was still unconscious, arms and legs hanging limply. This last glimpse was cut off as they entered the warehouse and the door was shut behind them. They soon entered a windowless room that held only a light and two chairs. Quatre was tied to one of the chairs, while Rimbo walked up to Con.

"Come on, Con," he said, grinning. "Why don’t you join us in this? One last adventure," he wheedled. Con’s eyes widened in pure shock.

"You lunatic, do you honestly expect me to join with you? You’re crazier than I thought!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "After what happened to Dorian, I would never do anything that would benefit you!" he snarled. Rimbo’s face turned cunning.

"Well, I know you like your little boyfriends and all, but this is money we’re talking about Con! Think of how rich this blonde kid can make us!" he said, eyes lighting up in greed. Con glared at him.

"I told you to call me Connor, you slime, and I don’t care about the money. They’re my friends, although I doubt if you really know what that means. I will never, I repeat never, help you. You can just forget it!" he finished, almost growling. Rimbo looked surprised, then anger clouded his features. Before Con could act, the brown-haired thug had drawn his arm back and planted his fist alongside Con’s forehead. Quatre cried out as Con fell to the floor. Rimbo snarled to two of his subordinates.

"Tie him in a chair too. And make sure the ropes are good and tight," he said. The two men dragged the downed teen to a chair, tying him securely. Con struggled briefly, but gave up, frustrated. Rimbo laughed. "It would be best if you didn’t try to escape. Your other little ‘friend’ is tied up elsewhere, and I would find it most enjoyable to punish him for your mistakes," he taunted. Then he left, leaving Quatre and Con alone in the room. Con turned to Quatre.

"Do you think we can get out of here?" he asked, concern in his eyes. Quatre shook his head.

"It should be no problem, since the guys can follow the transmitter," he said, looking down at the tiny pendant that dangled against his bare chest. "But, they’ve split us up, something we didn’t think about. The others can find you and me once they get here, but we don’t know where Wufei is," he added, looked worried. Con sighed. He hoped Wufei was okay.

Wufei groaned as consciousness slowly returned. The knockout spray had left a slight headache behind, and he squinted at the light that appeared to come from above him. Opening his eyes fully, Wufei realized he was tied to a table, each limb tied to a leg. With no leverage to work with, the Chinese boy knew it would be futile to struggle, so he took in his surroundings. The room had one small window, a bare bulb in the middle of the ceiling, and the table he was lying on. A chuckle from somewhere out of his line of vision prompted him to twist his head. Behind him, sitting backward on a chair, was Rimbo. The Chinese youth growled.

"Untie me and fight like an honorable man," he demanded, flexing his wrists in their bonds. Rimbo just grinned at the helpless boy.

"Oh no, I think I like you this way," the older boy smiled, leaning on his elbows as he watched Wufei’s face. "Laid out before me like a sacrifice," he added. Wufei glared at the gang leader.

"You are a dishonorable cur, and I shall take great pleasure in killing you for what you have done to Con!" the Chinese youth proclaimed. Rimbo chuckled and ran a fingernail down the irate boy’s chest… hard. Wufei gritted his teeth, refusing to give the thug a reaction. Rimbo’s face remained cheerful.

"Ah yes, Con. I’m afraid poor Con tried to escape and was killed in the attempt." The gang leader watched Wufei’s face avidly. The Chinese boy looked at Rimbo without seeing him. Con… dead? No… his face was expressionless, his eyes filling with tears. A strange sensation brought Wufei out of his shock. He came to his senses to find that Rimbo was doing his best to get his tongue down the Chinese boy’s throat. Wufei almost gagged and jerked his head to the side.

"You bastard, if you try to touch me again, I’ll…" he glared, letting his icy gaze speak for him. Rimbo appeared nonplussed.

"From where I stand, you aren’t in a position to do anything, while I," he continued, rubbing a hand on Wufei’s thigh, "can do pretty much anything I want." Wufei bared his teeth in a snarl. What frustrated him most was that the older boy was right. Rimbo’s face was split by a grin, a foreboding light coming into his eyes. "I’ll come back in a few minutes with someone I’m sure you’ll be glad to see," he said, turning and leaving. As the door shut behind him, Wufei’s body shuddered with suppressed sobs.

Con and Quatre looked up as Rimbo came through the door, followed by Lambert. The red-haired goon untied Quatre from the chair, keeping the rope around the blonde boy’s wrists and pulling him out the door. Con started in surprise.

"Where are you taking him?" he demanded. Rimbo grinned.

"Oh, we’re going to let him see your friend. Don’t worry, he’ll come back," he said as the door shut.

Quatre had to walk fast to keep up with the longer strides of the two older boys walking on either side of him. They soon reached a closed door. Rimbo opened the door and entered, Lambert right after him dragging Quatre in. The Arabian stopped short at what he saw. Wufei was tied to a table in the small room, glaring at Rimbo. Then the Chinese boy noticed Quatre.

"Quatre, are you okay?" Before the little blonde could answer, Rimbo spoke.

"Now Wufei, I have a proposition for you. We’re going to return Quatre as soon as we get the money, but," the older boy grinned, "who says we can’t have a little fun before we give him back?" Quatre’s eyes widened and he pulled away slightly from Lambert, but the red-haired boy jerked on the rope, causing the smaller boy to fall into his arms. Rimbo smiled at the fear in the Arabian’s eyes. He leaned against the table. "Now, Lambert here has taken a shine to the little fellow, and would be most pleased to have a little time alone with him. After all, who said we were going to return him in pristine condition?" Lambert smiled as he pulled Quatre close to him, rubbing a hand over the smaller boy’s bare stomach. The Arabian whimpered. Wufei growled and jerked against the ropes holding him down. Rimbo laughed. "Cool down, this is where my proposition comes in. Now, you seem a reasonable guy, right? So, I propose a trade-off. Your little friend here… for you," he finished. Wufei’s eyes hardened as he realized what Rimbo meant. Quatre struggled a bit against Lambert.

"Don’t do it Wufei, Con…" The little blonde got no more out as Rimbo swung around and buried a fist in his stomach. Quatre doubled over gasping, tears in his eyes as he fought to breathe. Wufei closed his eyes, snapping them open when he felt hot breath on his cheek. Rimbo’s voice sounded in his ear.

"So, what’ll it be? You, or him," he said. Wufei looked at Quatre, whose head had been pulled up by Lambert, a firm grasp on the small pilot’s hair. Quatre still had his arms protectively around his stomach. Wufei sighed inwardly. His voice when he spoke was cold.

"You’ve got a deal, just don’t hurt him anymore," he said. Quatre shook his head.

"Wufei, don’t," he pleaded. Lambert dragged the blonde out of the room. Rimbo smiled at Wufei.

"Well, I think we should take this somewhere else." He untied Wufei’s feet and hands. With the ropes binding his wrists, Wufei found himself being led to a bedroom, the bed pushed next to a wall with a large window above the headboard. Rimbo gestured to the bed. "Get on and lay on your back," he said. Wufei moved, expressionless, to the bed and did as he was told. The older boy raised Wufei’s hands and tied the ropes binding them to the headboard. "Just in case," Rimbo grinned. Wufei looked back at him, ice forming in his stomach.

"I will not go back on my word," he said. As Rimbo’s hands moved to touch his body, he closed his eyes, wishing it to be over soon.

Quatre was tied back to the chair, struggling for all he was worth. He did get one good kick to Lambert’s shin, though. Con smothered a chuckle as the red-haired boy hopped about on one foot, glaring at the blonde before slamming the door behind him. His laughter faded as he saw the expression on Quatre’s face.

"Con, Wufei is in trouble, big trouble," he said, and began to explain the situation.

Wufei’s skin crawled as Rimbo’s hands touched his hips and thighs through the cotton of his pants. The older boy sneered.

"These pants have got to go," he said, untying the drawstring and removing the last obstruction of his view of the Chinese boy’s body. He licked his lips appreciatively. "Nice, very nice," he said, his gaze locked on Wufei’s manhood. Rimbo quickly divested himself of clothing and crawled onto the bed between the younger boy’s legs. Wufei felt a chill pervade his body as he saw Rimbo’s erection. The older boy placed two fingers to the Chinese boy’s lips. "Suck on them," he commanded. Wufei took them in his mouth, his eyes glaring daggers. After a short time, Rimbo pulled them out and placed one finger at Wufei’s opening. The Chinese pilot’s eyes closed as the finger pushed past his resistance, stroking him. The second finger soon followed. Wufei tried desperately to think of something else. A face appeared in his mind’s eye, and he latched onto it. It was an image of Con’s face. Tears welled up beneath Wufei’s closed eyelids as he thought of the older boy. He had known he had feelings for him, but hadn’t realized how strong they had been until he had been told Con was dead. The pain that slashed through his heart at that moment told him the depth of his attraction. And now another was taking him in a way that should only be done between two people who cared for each other… Wufei ranted inwardly at the injustice. He felt something nudge at his opening, something bigger than Rimbo’s fingers had been, and he gasped as he felt Rimbo thrust into him. Pain shot through him and he involuntarily whimpered. He heard the older boy chuckle as he began to thrust, hard and fast. Suddenly, the sounds of shouting and running feet could be heard from outside. Rimbo pulled out, irate at being interrupted and unsatisfied. "This had better be good," he muttered, pulling on his pants and locking the door behind him. Wufei lay on the bed, too sore to move.

Trowa, Heero, and Duo crouched behind a pile of old crates outside of the warehouse their tracking device had led them to. Duo grinned as he started fires in several piles of trash near the warehouse. Silently, all three boys entered a side door in the building and moved toward the area that held Quatre and Con.

After Quatre told Con what had happened, the older boy’s expression had darkened.

"That son of a bitch," he growled. "When we get out of here…" he threatened. Quatre nodded his agreement. The sound of running footsteps outside of the door got their attention. Gunshots sounded, and then the door opened, revealing…

"Trowa!" Quatre exclaimed in relief. Heero and Duo weren’t far behind him, and they began untying their friends. "Hurry up, Trowa, we’ve got to find Wufei!" Quatre quickly filled the others on Wufei’s situation. They raced through the building until they came to the door of the room where Wufei had first been kept. Quatre looked around. "I think Rimbo took him… that way," he said, pointing down a corridor. Heero nodded and took something long and wrapped in cloth from Trowa.

"Trowa, you get Quatre and Con out of here. Duo, you’re coming with me. We’re going to find Wufei," he said, his eyes intense. The two groups split up.

Wufei forced himself to sit up on the bed, getting on his knees to reach the ropes that bound him to the bed. The knots were tight, and he was forced to move slowly and carefully by the pain radiating from his abused entrance. Two gunshots rang out right outside the door, and he turned around to see the door swing open. Heero and Duo stepped into the room, halting suddenly when they saw their fellow pilot naked on the bed. Duo growled.

"That bastard is so going to get it," he muttered as they rushed to the bed. "Hey Wufei, are you okay?" he asked, the worry in his eyes evident. The Chinese pilot nodded, wincing as he shifted position.

"I’m just sore," he said. Heero’s eyes darkened. He quickly untied the knots binding Wufei’s hands and held out the long cloth-wrapped bundle.

"We have something that might make you feel better," he said, eyes glinting. Wufei smiled slightly as he unwrapped some of the cloth to reveal gleaming metal. He quickly pulled on the black pants, following Heero and Duo out, a grim smile on his face. Now he would have revenge for Con’s death.

Trowa, Quatre, and Con rushed out of the building, heading for the vehicle the others had come in. They weren’t far from their goal when they heard the sound of a gun being cocked. All three froze, looking behind them. Rimbo stood there with a smirk on his face, gun aimed directly at Con. Lambert stood beside him, a gun in his hand. Rimbo’s smirk grew wider.

"Well, this is rather familiar, don’t you think Con?" he asked, chuckling a little. "Last time we met like this, we were on the beach, weren’t we? Well, this time, there’s no one to save you," he said, the humor fading from his face as he leveled the gun. "Oh, and Con? That Chinese friend of yours was a sweet ride," he taunted. Con’s hands clenched into fists. Wufei, Heero, and Duo ran out of the building just then, stopping in an area between the two groups. Wufei stumbled slightly in surprise as he saw Con. He was alive… he turned a baleful gaze upon Rimbo. Lambert saw the three pilots and tapped on Rimbo’s arm. Rimbo snarled slightly as he saw Wufei. "Oh no, he’s not going to escape!" he growled. Quatre, Trowa, and Con turned in surprise to see their three friends. Con’s heart constricted as he saw Rimbo aiming his gun at Wufei. Heero pulled out a gun and sent a bullet toward Lambert, the shot catching the red-haired thief in the chest and dropping him instantly. The Chinese pilot ran straight toward the older boy, and Con had a terrible vision of the beach scene playing out again. Rimbo’s finger tightened on the trigger and the gun recoiled, sending the bullet straight for Wufei as the pilot came closer. Wufei suddenly dove forward, hands hitting the ground first and sending him into a controlled roll. The bullet whizzed over him, and the Chinese teen came out of the tumble with a glint of metal. Rimbo froze, mouth open, and looked down. Wufei was in a crouch, left knee pressed against his chest, the other leg extended behind him and balanced on the ball of his foot, his right arm straight as it extended into the hilt of a katana that disappeared into the older boy’s chest. Wufei stood up and removed the sword, allowing Rimbo to fall to the ground. Wiping the blood off on Rimbo’s pants, the Chinese boy turned back to his fellow pilots and Con. Wufei walked slowly to the older boy, disregarding the looks of the others.

"He told me you were dead," he whispered. His sword fell to the ground as he wrapped his arms around the older boy, face buried in the other’s chest and hidden by a curtain of ebony as his hair fell forward. "He told me you were dead…" Con hesitantly put his arms around the Chinese pilot, softly patting his back. Quatre picked up Wufei’s katana as the six teens left for Con’s beach cabin.