Archive of Our Own

Quatre's head felt like it had been flayed and then rolled in salt and dipped in acid, so he hadn't been eager to wake up. Everything hurt, he genuinely couldn't feel a part of him that didn't hurt somehow and he had been assuming that if he woke up alive he would be battered nigh on to death by the pain of hospital surroundings.

Nothing. He tried to open his eyes, started at that, only to feel his eyes sting and ache.

They were dry and they burnt and felt bruised and sore, like he'd been staring into the sun or sitting at a fire. Everything felt terrible, and deeper down everything hurt, the echo of a hundred bad moments that weren't all his.

"I saw that. You want water?"

Duo. He hadn't picked up on anything except pain. He tried to speak with a "Yes please," that was dry and crackly. He couldn't tell if it was the deprivation from before or he had been sleeping with his mouth open.

There was a pause, a silence, and then fingers at the back of his head, gentle and cradling him a little as he brought the water glass up. "Okay. Chilled, no ice chips. You're on an iv and there's been some nasal feeding tube action. I should've been a medic, it's all kind of messy and cool, and Sally explained a lot of it."

"Not hospital?" he asked after a sip which felt fantastic. He was so grateful it wasn't the hospital and grateful Duo was there holding him. He felt a bit shivery still and wanted Treize and the others.

"Nah. Sanc Castle. Relena swung through a couple of times, sort of apologetic. I spoke with Sally and she... maybe has kind of figured out what's up? I dunno. Also, it's July. July 7th, so. Figured that was kinda important to know, it's been a couple of months."

So long. How had they managed to be there so long and survive? It had felt endless at the time but he had been trying to keep them connected and keep them going. He had more of the drink and exhaled and leaned to hold Duo. "Too long, others?" Were they okay? Treize, Treize he wanted him.

"Hospital," Duo confirmed, pulling his chair in closer and getting comfortable. "You should really be there. You've got some hairline fractures, and some...uh. You know, I'm totally going to let Sally talk to you about that, because I don't have a nice soothing way to talk about any of it."

"Don't have to be soothing," Quatre said, feeling a little less groggy. "I know what happened." And then some.

"So you've had some down there surgery, sort of. Shit. You know. You and Treize and Wufei. Heero and Trowa, a lot more blunt force broken shit. Trowa's gonna end up with dental implants." Duo shifted a little closer. "I think they fucked up Treize's spine. You are... gonna have a very cool new knee in a couple of days."

Quatre nodded. He knew, he suspected. Wufei had been very reticent, but he had suspected, then felt it. He'd forgotten about the knee in the rush of everything else. "You?"

"Hero's wound, Sally declared. Nicked me, dramatic bleeding, gonna have a cool scar, stitches come out in two weeks, and I have cool crutches." Duo was trying too hard to be upbeat, but his holding of Quatre felt sad and tired and a little exhausted. Nothing and nowhere felt safe, and it was still them against the world. "And there's public outcry and shit and Anne has proof it's Moran, so big media deal. And now our faces are all out there."

He'd failed at that then, their anonymity had not been preserved. He reached for his hand, to encourage him he was okay. "Duo, it's okay. I don't need cheering up. You came and rescued us. You did it."

"Yeah, after nine weeks. Not an awesome record. Not a great time for any of you." He kissed the side of Quatre's head. "Sally said Heero's x rays look like he was hit by an out of control truck. One bone and bruise at a time. You're also going to need rotator cuff surgery. We're in no shape to be the A team to save the world for a long while."

"I should have...found it out sooner," he said. "It wasn't your fault, there was nothing to go on. You needed us to give you the information." Quatre looked at him. "I missed you."

"I missed you so much, Quatre. Every day I went to say something to you or... you were missing. You were all missing." He kept petting Quatre's hair, scalp, gentle. "I know what you did to get it. I wished you hadn't had to do that, that shit messes you up. I did that for food for a while, you know?"

"I know," he said and tried to reassure him that this didn't change anything. He didn't feel messed up by it right now, but maybe he was. "I did what had to be done, but I should have done it earlier. Would have done but I was practicing and practicing to try and get stronger and do things. "

"You turned all those soldiers off." Duo wasn't afraid of him, and it wasn't quite awe-inspiring. It was more worry. "Quatre, there were like 120 dudes out there and you turned them all off. Some of them lost days of memory. We called it a gas attack. They were all L1 dudes and most of them didn't want to go back afterward anyway. So there's a lot of... shit to be done that Sally is dealing with."

"Treize and I," he corrected. "Treize...steered. That was a final breakthrough, just as you arrived. I panicked. They were going to kill Treize and I panicked."

"He had gunpowder on his head and no one could figure out why. Or what got hit." He could almost feel Duo turning that news over in his head. "So he turned them off, but used your energy to do it? And you, you burned them out, took out the guards. Like..." He was being so gentle as he sat there with Quatre, petting at him. "You're a goddamn wonder."

Quatre didn't feel wonderful. Didn't feel like much of anything. Nothing had been achieved except their lives and all of them had serious injuries. Remembering how out of control he had been made him shiver and he couldn't stop. "I've shifted again Duo. I...shouldn't have been able to do any of that."

"Yeah, except maybe you're made for it," Duo said quietly, petting at him as he shivered. "Healing and linking minds and shit. Maybe we all just need to go away somewhere quiet for a while and figure it out once the bleeding and oozing is all over. Somewhere safe. Because it saved all of you. You kept all of them alive, and got yourselves rescued. You kept Treize from catching a bullet. I don't know what else you stopped or helped or just kept someone going forward."

He'd tried so hard and now he'd over strained everything and he had spent nine weeks in their mental spaces and now he had nothing and they were going to resent, hate what he had done at the last. He hadn't asked permission, he'd ripped energy from them. Going away, hiding seemed like a good plan, because he had all of it inside of him.

Quatre wanted Duo close so badly then, it looked like he was grasping at straws and he was unable to stop shaking. He was cut off and burnt out and everything, everything hurt. He felt Duo exhale, shift his hold a little, still hugging him from the side and pulling him closer. "It's going to be okay, Quatre. Maybe not for a while, but it'll be okay eventually."

"Can't stop it...I took all of it, " he said. He'd known as soon as he reacted like that there was a price to be paid and it was inside of him now. All of it, all the things he knew they wouldn't want everyone to know, all the pain and agony and it was under his skin. "I can't feel them right now, they'll..." He wanted them well and... none of that was going to happen but he felt like bruises layered his skin all over, cuts, welts and he was starting to panic because the list of sensations was growing and growing.

It was what Treize was afraid of, what he'd heard him getting worked up over before -- because no power so great could be without consequences. But there hadn't been any for so long, or they'd been things he could handle, meditation, tucked away with care and precision. It had seemed like it was silly, overprotective, because he was soft and fragile, when he was strong enough to handle it all with ease. Except not just then.

"Ohh. Okay. Okay. You'll feel them again, okay, but maybe not for a while, and is there anything I can do?"

He was spinning out of control, he needed grounding, something solid and there had been no touching or holding for 9 weeks except that which hurt and he was terrified to be touched, but he needed it. He felt sick and nauseous. "Touch, need touch," he said and he screwed his eyes shut against the disorientation of everything, fighting the need to retch on an empty stomach. "Please...Duo."

He wanted Treize so much, his presence always bringing him into a safe zone, but Treize wasn't there.

Treize was nowhere to be felt.

"Okay." Duo shifted in closer, pulling him a little, gentle and trying to move the IV so it didn't get in the way. His hand was shaking when he got a hand against Quatre's back, between the loose ties of his hospital gown, then his fingers spread, carefully. "Like this?"

The moment skin touched skin it was like the vertigo feeling stabilised. It was a tiny sliver of sensation to his empathy, but he could feel Duo physically with a hint of mental, though it felt strained.

As he breathed heavily to come back from that he couldn't help an exhalation of relief. "Oh god, better..."

"Yeah?" Duo sounded a little surprised, but got himself comfortable, leaning into Quatre. "Guess we need to spring General Disaster Area as soon as we can, huh?"

Quatre pulled a faint smile. "His... habit of touching all the time can be useful," he said, trying to pull himself together. "I'm sorry Duo."

"Why are you apologizing to me, man?" Duo rubbed gently at his back, tucking in close against him. "Jesus. Your crazy planning is the whole reason I didn't get caught in the first place."

He'd half forgotten that. That seemed like an eternity away. "I'm glad you didn't," he said simply. Duo as well as Treize he could not have stood. He had been beside himself for the older man and Duo, Duo would have thrown himself out there as a lightning rod for all of them. "I'm so glad you're okay and here."

"I'm glad I am, too. But you kept me out of it. So you're not just... a newtype or whatever, but a really fucking prepared strategist," Duo murmured, kissing at his hair again. "And a policy writer. I mean wow, the shit they've made happen from your proposal."

He had hoped to be involved in the elections, and now it seemed like the last thing he could deal with. He shifted over, painfully and hopefully so he could literally lie just soaking up whatever it was that made the world come back into focus about touching Duo. "I'm glad," he said but it sounded a bit empty even to him. It was there now. Any desire to deal with the world had been at least for now stamped flat and crushed. He couldn't even deal with himself.

Duo hummed thoughtfully, shifted to lay down with him on the narrow bed. "There's some talk about wanting to know who the 'architect of our great peace' is, but you can probably dodge it forever if you want to. It was a scramble in the last couple of weeks for the folks running to back it, but Dorothy sort of had it cornered already. And OZ..." he trailed off.

"OZ was leaderless without Treize," Quatre murmured to himself. "Is, is he awake? Treize? Have you seen him?" If he couldn't reach that far to feel him, then Treize would not be feeling him back.

"Nah. I..." Duo shrugged his shoulders tightly. "They're weird about him, like I was gonna slip in and try to kill him or something. No visitors. OZ is being merged into the Preventers; Sally and Noin are handling it better than OZ as a stand-alone thing and it seems kind of peaceful. Relena's been leading the setting up of charities and society organizations for the kids getting de-mil'd."

He nodded but he was worried about Treize, especially if Duo hadn't seen him. "Is, is his doctor here? Someone needs to go see him. He doesn't do well left to his own devices for long periods of time."

"How about once you're sleeping, I'll try again. I think Anne was gonna go see him. I think maybe Relena hasn't figured out that we're, the pilots, all kind of fond of the asshole." Duo laid his free hand on Quatre's shoulder. "You want drugs? You have this cool pump thing."

He nodded a little. "When you go, tell him I'm okay and I miss him and as soon as I get myself together I want to see him," he said reaching for the pump. The pain was building a great deal and he did need something. "And the others...I'm, I want to see them ." But right now, he was not in control.

"Yeah, I'll talk to Sally and get him sprung if they're done cutting him apart." Duo rubbed at his back, didn't stop, and he felt the weird wobbly wash of the painkillers reach up to pull him back under. He could sleep for a while more, see if the next time was more pleasant.

Hospitals were boring and disorienting. At one point he mistook the blood pressure cuff for a hand on his arm, which was damn disorienting, and the doctors held a veritable conclave over him about something, but he hadn't been quite coherent enough to answer or ask what was going on.

And then when he did finally pull it together enough, he was essentially alone again in a small room with a closed door.

Trying to take stock of himself, he could tell he had been here a while and he had taken the sort of damage even he couldn't get up and walk off.

The silence was at once peaceful and something to drive him crazy. Nobody had really said anything to him except the nurses and that was hazy.

He was surprised by the break in silence when he heard his door open and click shut and the sound of heels walking across the room towards him.

Anne - he was at once pleased at company and disappointed it wasn't Quatre.

"Treize?" she asked softly and went to sit next to him.

"Hmn." He lifted a hand to rub at his forehead, and tried to sit upright, because Treize was tired of feeling like he was melded into the mattress and pillows. The shame of it was that it set off a shock of pain down his side, back, hips and leg that he was sure he hadn't been feeling before.

"Try not to move much," Anne said soothingly. She could have a very nice soothing voice sometimes. "You still need some convalescence following the surgery.”

There had been surgery? "What did they do?" He managed to get his eye open, blinked and gave up. His voice sounded strange to himself, and he realized he'd been mumbling along in French, so he cleared his throat and tried again in universal, "Didn't know there'd been surgery. Hello, Anne."

She smiled at him, offering him ice chips. "Several different areas," she said evasively. "None of you were in good shape when you made it back here."

The ice chips were nice, and he knew what reflexive eye pain felt like before he tried to open his good eye again. His eye socket, which he'd rather hoped to one day have a nice prosthetic set in as things healed and solidified, was a wreck, and no one needed to tell him that. They'd flayed back the skin, fingered it, cut his eyelid off, and one of them had tried and failed to really get anywhere fucking him in it. He wasn't going to think about it. "How is Quatre? How are the others?"

"They are all recovering," she said. "Most of you had significant injuries and needed surgical intervention. You have had surgery on your eye socket area, some complex myofascial surgery and I'm afraid they had to stabilise a ruptured disc at the base of your spine as well as some... damage there. There was also internal damage, so you must take it easy."

He hummed in agreement, turning his head to look at her, to stay focused. "They wanted Zero. Wouldn't..." Sitting up a little wasn't going to happen, not with that pain. "It was getting harder to write, to read. Can you get Watson in on this? Probably picked up a couple of new concussions."

"I can get him here if you feel better for it. What is important is you getting into recovery. We've got this place locked down at the moment, for security reasons. You are all here, except Quatre."

That alarmed him, even as he was trying to guess at what the internal damage was. He was already short of a spleen and was meant to worry about infection. "Where is Quatre?" It was probably an inappropriate level of interest for him to be showing, he knew. He usually kept things a little more under wraps, but Anne knew him. "He was in, is he all right?"

"02 threw a temper fit when they had him here about how him being in hospital was a worse torture and that he needed to be somewhere away from people in pain." Anne said looking at him. "He is recovering." It was said carefully, he recognized that tone.

It said she was masking something. "We're all recovering. I... need to find a way to see and talk to him."

"Neither of you are capable of moving far," she replied. "02 has been vocal about trying to get in to see you. Perhaps now you are lucid we might let him visit unless you say otherwise."

"I grew rather fond of Duo while he stayed in Luxembourg. He was equal parts thoughtful and annoying." He reached for a smile, still watching Anne's face. Everything hurt, moving wasn't an option anytime soon, and Quatre was dealing with more than anyone should have been handling. "Interesting arguments. How have you been?"

"Worried about you and the other pilots," she said frankly. "The world situation turns out to be highly emotive about you all. The political pressure was intense to find you, but the abductors had significant resources and expertise."

"Some familiar faces from Dorothy's inner cabinet," he offered, keeping a tight hold on himself. "Unsure if you need that list or not, though we can now confirm that yes, she had a mole. Am I allowed to go away now?"

"With appropriate security measures and when you are recovered," Anne said gravely. "Treize, you must not overestimate where you are. You were abducted for nine weeks."

"Well aware." He pressed his hand against his eye for a moment and was satisfied by the sheer amount of cotton wadding and wrapping that covered half his face. "Don't need a lecture reminding me that I've been tortured when someone tried to fuck my skull. I'd like to resign, if I'm allowed and you've all made good use of the last nine weeks."

"You may do what you wish," Lady Anne said soothingly. "Treize...sir, no one will begrudge you anything you want. The ESUN discussions have gone well, we are about to elect our first president. You have no obligation to anything."

That was all he needed to know. The Unity government was on a transition footing, from her response, and didn't need him. The machinery of it all had kicked in, and it didn't matter. Dragging himself along every day when he hadn't wanted to, did any of it matter, had any of it been worth it?

No, not really. Maybe. He was tired, and he had no future but somehow kept living despite it.

"I have no obligation to anything," he echoed, trying to find the concept interesting and appealing rather than unsettling. His chest ached and he couldn't quite push down the tight knot that was settling there. "What's the public sentiment?"

"Very pro the pilots and yourself." Lady Anne was obviously seeing something in his expression and took his hand and he found that curiously settling even if it didn't tackle the wave of despair. "Dorothy, Relena and myself have been allowing some information from the war to be leaked in a… favourable light. The other side leaked the presence of Zero and we followed up with how dangerous it was and that certain things had occurred as a result of forcing pilots to use the untested systems and how many it had killed. Officially we said nothing but incidences were...clarified. Footage of various combats where pilots heroically save the day have gone viral - your own exploits are out there as well. Your Comms team has been very busy."

They weren't going to be his comms team for long. "Your comms teams. Sally's. Whoever..." He shook his head slightly; he'd been in the wars for a long time, and he wondered what exploits were out there. The lunar wars had overlapped Vingt's panicky, paranoid and brief reign, and he had fought some very bright brave enemies at the time. "Mariemaia?"

"She is fine - Sally will tell you more. All I know is that she is secure and starting to respond to treatment and it will be a long process," Anne said. "Treize, you will always be needed if you wish that but you have to give your body and mind time to recover. That is the benefit of peace over war - you can have that time. Right now, if any one of you were inclined to power you could have the world, but I know that is not your goal. "

Furthest from it. "I've been all out of plans since the Eve war. Don't... I just want to go away for a while." Which was hard to do when he was in a hospital bed and couldn't actually successfully get all the parts to move together to sit up. But the loose clutch of fingers on his hand was nice, even if his hand was about the only thing not in pain. "Wasn't made for peace."

"You can discover peace," she replied. "As an explorer, if nothing else. You need to be well before you can have time away, and we have the best surgeons and doctors working on all of you. " She smiled at him. "How you all survived the damage is a source of amazement to every professional involved."

He didn't know how or if he could explain any of it, and it was very likely best to not. At all. To pretend that he had spent his 9 weeks in pure isolation, which it had mostly been, except for the pure relief of contact with Quatre when he had the energy to support it. That he couldn't feel him just then, that he couldn't get it together enough to reach out to him didn't bode well. "Watson and another doctor back home, can't remember his name, thought it was a side effect of the neural net from using Epyon. That I wasn't a drooling mess after the hit I took in Tallgeese II. We all used Zero." And so had Zechs, but he had stayed miraculously under the radar of target.

"It's a possibility," Anne replied calmly. "None of you will be flying anytime soon, that's for sure." She hesitated a little. "When you are well enough, there will be a debrief, but as we managed to capture a fair few operatives, we will get a great deal of the information from them."

A debrief, of course. He wasn't excited for that at all, but it would be one more thing, and he couldn't help but think about the last week; they'd been desperate and bored of dealing with him, and at one point he swore he'd been so close to being just shocked to death, but. Hadn't. "Mmm. I'd like to see how Quatre and the others are before that. My interrogators... insinuated things."

"What did they insinuate?" Anne leaned forward a little. "I have received some reports and might be able to clarify things...and rest assured you will be able to see them when you are all well enough. I will instruct the security to allow Duo through now I have discussed it with you."

"Thank you." He wasn't going to talk about it, and if he hadn't held Quatre briefly during the escape, he would've been willing to believe everything they'd said, that Treize was to blame for it, and that the pilots had turned on him because that was the sort of treatment OZ did, and... he didn't know. He was just tired, and the memory of that too short contact stuck with him, something to hold onto.

It was entirely possible he went a little fuzzy with exhaustion in there, because when he opened his eye again Anne was gone, and the light from the window had moved across the room.

He could hear the subtle sounds of someone just being present in the room on the chair next to the bed, playing or looking at a phone that he was pretty sure wasn't meant to be in the room. He turned his head to look and that movement caught attention. Duo - that was...he wasn't sure if he was surprised or confused by his presence.

"Hey, hey... you're awake," he said pulling the chair around so he was in a comfortable line of vision. "Thought I'd come and see what a General disaster you were." It was light and awkward teasing, as if Duo wasn't exactly sure where to go with it.

He'd always sort of enjoyed the ribbing, it felt familiar, comradely, and reminded him of his days with the Specials before he'd made Colonel, before he'd made General. "A fairly disastrous one. Hello. Anne said you rescued Quatre from here."

"Man, kinda had too. Figured after the last time when he said how shitty things were in hospital he was not going to do well surrounded by people who all look like they'd been drop-kicked by a Gundam," Duo shrugged as if it had been that easy to convince everyone. Treize knew it would have been a small war in itself. "He's up in the castle. Not long woken up, to be honest." He shifted slightly, clearly worried.

"I need to get out of here and see him." He didn't know how much time had passed, so he gave another shot at sitting up and found his left leg almost nonresponsive and flooding him with pain at the attempt. Surgery, right. "I'm concerned about what he was doing. How does he seem?"

"Whoa, whoa, you are not going anywhere," Duo said, pushing him back, surprisingly gently. "You want the answer he told me to give you or the real one? Hell, I'll do both. He told me I had to come and see you, tell you he was okay, he misses you, he wants to come and see you as soon as he can. And he told me I had to come see you, though I was trying anyway. Relena thinks I'm going to kill you or something, they wouldn't let me through."

The hand on his chest to settle him back was surprisingly welcome, but he considered that for well over two months the only physical contact he'd had had been pain and humiliation. Something normal and casual and well meant shouldn't have been a relief. "My treatment of my prisoners remained suspect, I believe," he commented flatly, "or at least that's what my interrogators insisted. How is he really?"

"Pretty fucking bad," Duo said, his usual smile faded. "You know when he had that thing after Zechs? Yeah, that was a drop in the ocean. I don't know exactly what's going on but he's got physical effects from it."

"Explain." He wanted to try to sit up because it was damn strange to have a conversation with someone laying down, but he pushed down the restless feeling, and focused on Duo's words.

"Look, he's got physical shit as well, everyone has. I don't think anyone escaped surgery. Quatre's had some while he was out, and he's due up a whole thing on his knee," Duo said. "But he was shaking uncontrollably and said he'd taken all of it and he looked so... fucking ill. Scared the shit out of me. He asked me to touch him skin to skin and that helped massively for some reason. I don't know, I don't get it, but after that he had drugs so he's asleep for a while."

The answer both unsettled him and left him feeling a little relief. "When he was trying to heal my headache, he was just on the edge of doing too much and taking on the physical... damage. When, I don't know what triggered it but briefly everything stopped hurting long enough that I could move again. I pulled him up, tried to stop him from going any further once he got to the interrogation room." He hoped Anne hadn't bugged the place, and now that he thought about it it was too likely. "Touch is very... he's much better at explaining this than I am." He felt like he'd burned himself out a little, and he'd never used it on Duo before, but he tried to reach out, not to pull him up but to offer a little cool control, just an offer, just to see the reaction.

"Huh..." Duo looked him in the eye. "Yeah, I can feel that. He said... you and him had done something together at the end. You stopped 120 fighters so you could get everyone out. Control them. I said it sounded like we needed to get you and him together as soon as possible. Until then, I reckon he's going to spend a lot of time out of it."

He let it slip back, to whatever it was it had been doing, the offer receding, though he held Duo's gaze. "I used Quatre as fuel to reach out and pull them up. He had so much rage, so much pain from everyone, and we needed to get out." He hadn't asked, hadn't given any warning of what he was going to do, of course, just told Quatre they were doing it and the memory of reaching out with all of that force behind him to pull that whole attacking unit up, that had been amazing and frightening.

If anyone found out and objected, he wasn't going to be allowed to slip away quietly anywhere. "He needs touch. It helps ground everything." He needed touch, had done in retrospect some very daft fucking things to get it; and that was how everything had started, his inability to control himself and not touch his curious new prisoner.

"We probably need to keep that quiet," Duo said. It was strange seeing him serious like this. "Seems like some people's touch is better for him than others. Mine’s pretty good, but I think he wants you. He said he felt burnt out, but I could feel a bit of him, you know that warm in your chest feeling, when I touched his back. Pretty sure it's gone a bit like it did after the Eve wars and he was injured. Gone to ground, came back stronger y'know?"

And Treize had been there agitating him while he'd been trying to heal. "Yes. I need you to try to get me out of here. He really needs touch. You remember what happened after we got back to Luxembourg."

"I get it," Duo nodded. "But you've got to be safe to move. Or he is. Not doing that until I hear someone with a medical degree saying so. Oh speaking of which, he was insistent on me getting hold of your doctor for you. Got a name I can ask for? "

"John Watson. He's in Luxembourg." He'd asked Anne, but two people trying to reach him would be better. "If you can get him, tell him to charge it to the usual account."

"I'll speak to Comms," Duo said. "Oh, Wufei asked how you were. Trowa's got a fucked up jaw or head and can’t speak but he indicated interest. And Heero...well, he's pretty out of it right now. So much goddam surgery he’s had. I had Noin and Zechs leaving me messages all the time so you want visitors, I can pretty much get you them."

"I'd like visitors," he admitted, stretching his shoulders a little and finding even that was stupidly sore. "How are Wufei and Trowa?" He almost called him 03, but they were all a little past that, as much as his chosen name made Treize cringe.

"None of you are anything less than fucked up," Duo said bluntly and he appreciated that candour. "That's just physically... Wufei is struggling as much as I've ever seen. Trowa, he's retreated into his own head and I have no damn idea how to get him out. Hasn’t spoken a word since everything. There's no fast recovery now."

"No, there isn't." He wasn't going to let himself really think about it, couldn't. It was all flat bland facts, statements, because he couldn't let himself really handle it and reflect, because it was all sharp edges that aches to handle. It was like before. "Just going to refuse to think about it until I get out of here, hmn?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll try and keep him going for you," Duo said. "When you're more awake, I'll tell you the story of our attempt at escape and Quatre's crazy contingency plans. You'll love it."

Treize gave a tired chuckle trying to imagine what it might've been. The pain was starting to get a bit much. "He kept them from catching you. He's rather a brilliant wonder, isn't he?" And if the world would just leave him the fuck alone for a few months, he was pretty sure Quatre could further change the world even more than he already had.

"Yeah," Duo agreed, serious for a moment. "I'll be back the next time he's napping okay? Anything you want me to tell him? He's pretty worried about you all?"

It was a damn shame that he wasn't very good with words unless it was a political or military matter. Personal things were easier to convey face to face, and the bridge had made it even simpler. "That we're pretty worried about him. That I'll be out of here to be with him as soon as possible." He hesitated. "I think I'll save the rest for face to face, rather than use you as a go-between."

The things he wanted to say had no words, but fortunately, that was not usually a problem with Quatre.

He'd been injured before, but Quatre had to admit this was nothing like that. He wasn't able to get sleep because of nightmare memories that woke him to retching and shaking. He felt like he was constantly having fever from pains his body remembered receiving even if he didn't have them. He felt like he had with Zero, the aftermath of it, broken and ready to rid the world of his presence, but he had no idea if that was his feelings or everyone else's.

The emotional pains were devastating - his last nightmare memory was of the first time Wufei was being raped. He could stand the pain of the experience, but the utter devastation Wufei had at the thought that he was damaged and Trowa and he would never have a future felt like a permanent blade in the heart.

The only respite from these desperate moments was when Duo sat with his hand on him and everything just... settled a little.

Just a little. It smoothed out, made everything a little less pressing, like he could breathe. Duo was asleep beside him, because he was exhausted trying to see everyone and do everything that they would've been doing individually if they hadn't all been penned up in different hospital rooms and miles apart.

So it didn't surprise him to see Sally standing in the doorway, looking more sad than judgmental, mouth a bit set as she approached the hospital bed in his makeshift room. There was a regular rotation of nurses and if not for the fancy walls and filigree and rest of the furniture, he would've thought he was in a functioning hospital. "Quatre. Are you feeling awake?"

He nodded a little. "Yes." His voice was rasping and sore with nausea and waking up literally screaming. If not for Duo he would have still been doing that now.

The very recency of it, in the assault he experienced personally twisted together, his shame and Wufei's shame unbearable to handle at once. "Do you want to talk?" she was moving to pull up a chair from the other side of the bed, so as not to disturb Duo.

Oh, she wanted him to discuss his feelings to make him feel better. He sighed; Treize said she knew about the newtypes, but he wasn't sure. "I don't know what you want to talk about," he said.

"How all of your injuries are feeling, to start. Your knee replacement is going to require you to do some physical therapy and the pain is certainly going to be notable. We can put it off, because you're not mobile yet but I would like to get you started as soon as possible to get you on a full road to recovery." He hardly remembered that at all except for a man kneeling down by his leg with a pocket knife.

"I can deal with pain," he said softly. That was demonstrably true. They all could, but it didn't mean they liked it. "I would like to be mobile." And to see Treize.

"Then I'll schedule your surgery for tomorrow." She hesitated for a moment, and that was when he knew that she was thinking about discussing emotions or something with him, something she didn't want to talk about any more than he did. "We... I. There's no easy way to say this. You should all be dead."

"Duo said that," Quatre said, trying not to twitch his hand in Duo's grasp. "I wasn't sure what he meant?" He'd taken it as you are lucky to be alive, but the way Sally was saying it made it sound different.

"You all have injuries that should have killed you. These are... fatal injuries." She said it very quietly, as if aware of Quatre, hyper aware of him. "Treize's spine was snapped, but it's healed to a manageable fracture and a herniation; Heero took a blow to the skull that should have caved it in, and maybe it did. You had an active case of sepsis, and you've responded to medication when I've buried healthier patients than you with similar circumstances."

"Oh." The heart monitor responded to his rising wave of panic. Had it just been the last time when gold energy was zapping out from him all over? Was it them? Had all those experiments, those hours of being in his cell, taking their pain over and over, had that been doing more? "I don't know what to say," he said finally. "It... Might have been something to do with me?"

"I was thinking that," she said quietly, leaning her elbows on her knees, looking at him. "I saw Treize freeze Mariemaia when she tried to attack him in the hospital. He... With the alliance, he had a record for hiding things he finds interesting. The presence of a Gundam on L5, a few other things, so I wondered if he is a newtype, and suddenly very protective of a pilot..."

There was no point hiding it, and with the limited amount of sensitivity that had come back, he could still sense she was trustworthy. He looked at her directly. "Yes...except, I was the trigger for him. I've been an empath all my life, but during the war, and after it, things have moved beyond all of that. I... I had a significant jump in the abilities as I was in Treize's custody. One of these events we think revitalised an ability Treize believed went dormant for him a long time before. That which you saw."

"Control." Sally's mouth compressed slightly, and she was thinking back, reflecting on things he couldn't follow because he had burnt himself out too much. "I just want at least one of you to really understand that when we're saying you need to take it easy or this is going to be a long road that I don't know how any of you are still alive. I don't know how many of these injuries will shake out in the long term and you have seizure activity that I can't explain. The only reason I haven't started you on medication is that I wanted to talk to you about this because I think it's all related. We have never had a good medical understanding of newtypes. The kind of documentation I've been able to find is not conducive to life. Or tabloid theorizing about certain old colony-born families."

"I thought I was the only one until Treize talked about secret research. My theory is that all pilots have newtype elements just to survive piloting a Gundam at all," Quatre said. "I...seizure activity, it's... it's fall out from what I did. I don't know what the effects are, this is all new but." How to say this without sounding crazy? "One thing I perfected in captivity was the ability to connect to each of them and take their pain away. At the end, I was in a panic as it seemed the interrogators were going to kill everyone they could before running, that I wanted them to be ready and I pulled everything like that from them...including the emotions and memories. They are out of control in my head. I'm, how to put it, having their nightmares and memories as well as my own and it is not going well. Touch seems to help me stabilise."

Sally's silence in response to that was long, and it worried him. "I was going to talk to Treize about this, I should extend the offer to you as well. Sanc has some excellent mental care facilities, inpatient."

"No," Quatre said immediately. "We can't. The moment we do that, it will get out somehow. Even this discussion is a risk and...I've seen the old research. I don't want to become like them, another Subject 71. I...managed to stabilise things before, I just wasn't as badly injured before."

"Khushrenada was actively in crisis the day he came to see his daughter, well before any of this happened. We just... weren't in a position to intervene." They had needed him to do a job and now they didn't, which. Quatre didn't quite like the implication that if they hadn't needed Treize to perform, they _would_ have intervened? "And you're very clearly actively in crisis. I can't in good conscience just turn you loose because the bleeding has stopped."

He was about to mentally freak out about it, and then a thought from what he called the red energy zone bubbled up that he didn't need to worry because if he had to, he could just stop her.

That terrified him.

"What would you do?" he asked, wondering if it was something he could not.

"Just a quiet, structured environment and intense therapy until the situation comes under control. I could work up a plan for you both and see if you found it acceptable," she said quietly. "I might be wrong. I just don't know how I can help you better."

"I... think the elements are useful but not as inpatients. Treize has wanted to just... go away somewhere ever since the war. We could do a quiet structured environment ourselves. The therapy..." He exhaled. "If I can get back into control, that I can deal with."

"If you're partners, I just... would not recommend it." She stopped and added, "and if you're not, I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."

"I find it hard to quantify it. The process I do is not a traditional discussion." He grimaced. "It's something empathic. It appears to work very successfully."

"And who helps you?" At least her interest was real concern, not a threat. He felt less threatened and felt the red energy start to ebb back.

"The people I have connections with," he said glancing over at Duo. He owed him so much. "It's difficult to explain. I know how people feel. I can show them how I feel in a way that cannot be disputed. I can see what they cannot see with their emotions, I can mentally detach inappropriate connections. That's what I had established before all this. Now..." He didn't know.

Sally was quiet, and looked at Duo, and then back to Quatre, and then closed her eyes for a moment. "How does that help you? Help... please help me understand. I'm older than Treize, I remember him coming up in the ranks with the Specials. I can't imagine him being emotional support for anyone. He's charming and intuitive, but I don't think..."

Quatre smiled. "He's very different on the inside. Most people are and with Treize, the experiences, they taught him to be this way. I discovered from Duo that I have a very unique perspective with regard to people. If you completely understand someone, where they came from, and why they feel and do the things they do, how do you do otherwise than love them? Ask Duo sometime what it felt like. Likewise, honesty is instant, and doesn't have to be explained. It is a powerful thing." He looked at her. Maybe he could show her a bit, he had some strength back.

"I believe you. I..." She was wrestling with it. "Let me draw the plans up, and I'll leave them with you both. To think about, if you change your mind, you know you have an option. I don't want to send you home with someone who's suicidal. I'm going to offer similar plans to the other pilots, and perhaps they'll rebuff me as well."

"I'll show you." He knew the rest of them would say no and Treize's suicidal feelings were his to deal with. "I...don't know if they will hate me for being in their heads so much. They might..." They should but they were never good at doing what they should. He exhaled. "Sally, all this is new to me too, I'm doing my best but right now, physically I'm out of depth."

"We want to support you. You don't need to show me, I believe you. I just... am concerned for you." She tilted her head slightly. "After the attack, I did take charge of OZ for the transition, and spent some time going through Treize's papers in Luxembourg. So you can imagine what I've been privy to."

He nodded slightly, his head aching. "Have the transitions been going well?" He should be interested but it was hard to remember why it was important. Everything was done and running, and nothing seemed exciting or like it mattered. Mostly it stuck in his head that someone had been rummaging Treize's home, and his personal papers, and it felt like such a violation when it wasn't even Quatre's.

"Very well. Do you want a job after all of this? I found your original drafts of the plan we've been following, as well."

He ducked his head a little embarrassed at that. "I don't know what...state I'm going to be in," he temporised. "If things are still changing."

Would he get worse? More unbearable, more likely to pressure someone into contact?

"However long it takes, Quatre. You have a brilliant mind."

"Thank you," he murmured. "When, when would I be able to see Treize?" He could seem to manage more than tiny bits of concentration with Duo, and he knew that had helped a little. He instinctively felt Treize would help more.

"Maybe by the end of the week, we can get you into a wheelchair and over to the hospital. If you think you can take it. Or..." she sat back, looking thoughtfully. "I don't know how soon we can move him. At least another week, to get him here and set up a bed here. Relena is pushing to have Heero moved as well, but he's in no state."

A week. He could last a week. He could maybe stand a visit to the hospital to Treize. "Anything. He would prefer to be here I think, but if I can go earlier I will."

"We'll try to move him as soon as possible," she promised him. "Now that I know you have an interest in that. He's apparently asked everyone who comes into the room how you are and when he can leave."

Quatre smiled involuntarily at that. "You don't need to worry about my safety with him. He has been a very indulgent host, and is now a very close friend." Bearing in mind he apparently loved his friends with an intensity most people reserved for close relationships and loves of their life.

"... right." Sally shook her head slightly. "I won't ask. The less I know the better. I'm glad that all of you are comfortable with each other. We want you to have that support structure. Do you have any concerns about your health right now that you want to talk about?"

"I... am not getting any rest unless I am unconscious and I wake up exhausted from that," he said as honestly as he could. "When Duo is not touching me, after a while, I have shakes that increase in violence."

"That can't be helping your healing process. We can administer sedatives, or put you in a coma for a few days..." she sounded reluctant but curious.

"That would be the last resort. Can, Can I have a wider bed so Duo can rest properly while being in contact? I worry about him." Quatre didn't want him ill because he was trying to do everything.

"It's been hard to keep him in one place. He originally had a hospital room of his own, you know, but he escaped out a window," Sally said, standing up. "Which didn't surprise anyone."

He smiled and looked at Duo fondly. "He's trying to be there for all of us, because he wasn't with us. He will rest here. Thank you Sally."

"Please let me know if you need anything." It left him hope that she'd sort out a larger bed and that Treize would be there soon.

The day Treize managed to sit up in bed by himself was a fucking banner day, and not far behind it he managed to stand up and submit, with support, to a whole physical inspection of everything that left him feeling undone and nervous and struggling to keep his brain blank. And then John showed up and wanted to do the whole thing again, but at least it was John, though by then standing up was over for the day.

"You know, I'm not that desperate for work, you need to get injured like this," John said, making strange expressions as read his notes.

"Well, out of the picture for nine weeks, figured you were bored with topping up normal patients cholesterol medication," he murmured, focusing very tightly at sitting on the edge of the bed and just balancing himself.

"Have they gone through what your initial injuries were?" John said, giving him what Treize could only assume was the biggest side-eye in the world.

"No. I do have some vague memory of being there for them." He lifted his eyebrows at John, for all that only one of them was visible. "Vaguely. But no, no one really sat down and explained what's going on."

"Are you able to stand for a couple of seconds for me?" he asked, leafing through papers as if there was a massive disconnect between what he was seeing and what he was reading.

"The pain's starting to get very interesting," he warned, slipping to his feet and with quite a lot of shooting pain managing to stay upright before he leaned back against the bed to sit down.

"Right, lie back down and I'll try and explain," John said exhaling. "I think, yes, I can give you a shot of something to take the edge off."

It was a struggle to get laid back down, and the most anything he'd done in days, since captivity. And that didn't count as doing much. "I'd appreciate it."

He scribbled a note and then added something to Treize's IV. "Do you want the full medical jargon or the translation for those who are not doctors?"

"Translation, please." He managed to get the sheet about himself, and took a deep breath as he let himself relax. "Anne refused to tell me, and I can't read the documents."

"Mmm." John sat down next to him. "Right. I'm going to be blunt. I'm not sure exactly how I'm seeing what I am seeing now, but you should be dead. Not, 'this is a bit of a miracle, the brain is strange' like before but actually 'no doubt about it dead' based on the injuries you were admitted with. So I'm hoping once I've done the run down you are going to tell me a story about what we are dealing with. You had severe internal injuries, including perforation into the gut from what was clearly repeated sexual assault - surprisingly instead of raging peritonitis that should have killed you, you survived. Then we have the excessive electrical damage to your neurological systems which based on the lesions and damage from the previous electrocution, should also have progressed the nerve damage to an irreparable point. We have infection and scarring in your eye socket area, which again should have transversed directly to the brain leading to encephalitis and death, and icing on the cake, your spine was not... a ruptured disc, though you had one. It was ruptured because your spine was snapped. And yet two minutes ago, I saw you stand."

Every item John ticked off pinged a memory, and he was struggling to not think, to keep everything calm and blank and non reactive. It helped that the drugs seemed to be hitting at the same time. It took Treizez a moment to find his voice, one hand knotted into a fist while he kept himself focused and together. "I have no stories. I don't know what's going on. I have a lot of pain and numbness down my left leg."

"That is not surprising; it's more surprising you are feeling anything." John said. He seemed to belatedly realize what was happening. "Okay, that was a lot to land on you. My fault. Just take a few moments okay? Do you need anything?"

He shook his head tightly, and closed his eye, struggling to keep himself together. Raped hard enough to break through to his abdomen, that was, he remembered it hazy, and the baton, and the howling pain and panic of it.

With the reflexes of a doctor well versed in spotting when someone was going to throw up, John had one of the receptacles there, holding in front of him, and a hand to steady him. "Breathe Treize, slow it down. Listen to my voice, we've done this before..." he was saying, talking in that familiar way at him.

He threw up, so John had good timing, and it was just whatever they'd been giving him in the feeding tube, more like retching bile after too much drinking. "Ah, fuck. Fuck." He hated throwing up, and he had to keep himself calm. Deep breaths, eye closed tight, because severe internal injuries, and Quatre reaching out to skim the pain away after the interrogation when he'd been half hysterical in his cell and trying to keep himself together.

He remembered it; remembered Quatre bonding around him, as much as possible, holding him together and making it possible for him to face another day. Perhaps he’d done more. A great deal more.

"It's okay, it's okay..." John said. "My fault, I underestimated how difficult that would be for you to hear. I shouldn't have fallen for your usual keeping it together face."

"It was working for a while." He focused on breathing, and just very much wished he was home, with Quatre. "Ah, fuck. So I shouldn't be alive. This isn't news, I've already lived through it all. I remember, I swore my back was broken, I couldn't move for a couple of days, not really."

"And then you could move?" John queried. "That's it, slow it down. If it feels difficult to talk about, then just stop okay?"

"And then I could move, with pain. I thought they'd fucked up my hip. And I didn't think about it again, because they were torturing me to play along with giving them what they needed to build Zero." He managed to get himself breathing a little calmer, and sat back. "It all blurred together, into whatever sick fun they felt like having."

"Okay," John nodded and he remembered John was at least a Doctor who got it; he'd been caught by the enemy, and as he said, 'shit happened'. "You know, if it helps you can tell me, but if not I'm not going to push. I hate it when people push."

He brought a hand up to the bridge of his nose, well, what he could feel of it, focusing at the pressure of his own fingertips. "I don't know what to tell you. We're all Zero users. Pilots. Except I found it rather like an addictive drug, so perhaps user is more apt."

"They've started talking about it in the media." John said. "But I don't know if this side effect is known about."

No, because there was a better than even chance it could be Quatre.

"I'd rather they didn't. I, this shouldn't have gone on for nine weeks. Maybe two, huh?" He was going to distract distract distract. "What's this mean? When can I leave?"

"I think my point was that it's a lot sooner than I would ever have anticipated," John answered. "However, can't give you an estimate because there is no precedence. I'll have to examine you each day, see what has happened overnight."

"Possibly like the concussions? That seemed to reach a state of... equilibrium." A particular level of damage it rested at, and that was fine. His spine wasn't snapped, he could stand. He was grateful for that, that he'd survived.

"The concussions were carrying on healing at a slower rate, but visibly," John said. "And of course you've used Zero in the defence of Earth again."

"And then I managed to crash a completely different mech." He moved his hand down, and looked at John. "I think I've earned a rest."

"I've been saying that for years," John answered. His tone changed to what Treize thought of as his 'friend John' as opposed to 'doctor'. "You're not doing so well are you Treize?"

"No. No, I'm not." He reached for something wry, trying to smirk lightly, but his mouth was struggling to play along with false easy jauntiness. "Haven't been for some time."

"So, this time you get to stop?" John suggested carefully and he guessed he couldn't blame him because for years John had been suggesting it and he had been turning it down.

"Yes. I was trying to make it to the elections." Just one more date, he was always just trying to get through one more thing. "I can't do this anymore."

"Mm. Then we'll make it happen for you." He nodded. "When you are stabilised. Start thinking about where you want to convalesce."

"Not in this godforsaken, indefensible hellhole of a city?" He joked weakly, because John had been there way back when they'd tried to keep it from falling.

"Fuck yeah. Maybe somewhere a bit sunny? Good food and wine," John answered. "A doctor willing to make house calls... It's not good to do it on your own though."

That was his subtle way of asking if he was planning something drastic. Treize didn't know, really.

"I suppose not. We'll see what anyone's interested in agreeing to." Doing something drastic required forethought; doing something stupid, now that was easier. "At some point, I need to procure a datapad and send you something. I had some interesting intel out of Poland I thought you might want to see. About your friend."

John looked up sharply. "You have...intel?" he asked carefully as if not believing it. His friend was meant to be dead but that happened a lot in the wars.

"A couple of bad photographs." He'd promised to keep an eye out for him, and Treize always kept his promises, kept a pulse on it all through the eve war. "I'll let you be the judge. God, do you want to bet money they've boxed my house up and erased my accounts? My stepfather would knife someone to get his hands on the townhouse."

"Just the sort of shitty luck," John said. "But, you know... If you told them you wanted to go somewhere, the collective might of the world and space would move heaven and Earth to make it happen right now. "

"What would I even do with that, for myself?" He'd never known, and it didn't serve people well in the little things. "When you come back, bring a data pad with you and I'll see if I can get to it from here and then you decide what parts of heaven and earth need to be moved if it is him."

John got up, taking that as a dismissal. "I'll check in on you tomorrow," he promised. "See if we can get some measurements on your improvements. And the datapad will be here. Get as much rest as you can."

"I think I've run out of energy for the standing up trick for the day." And he had a hold of himself again, because a distraction was as good as a solution most of the time. "John. Thank you for coming. I... thanks."

"I didn't have to be a doctor to come and visit a friend," he said. "Sorry I used my bedside manner as a blunt instrument."

"Sometimes, it's what it takes to break through." He felt worse and better all at once, and the smile he gave John was a little better, felt a bit more real.

"Eh, I'll be back tomorrow. Keep the medical miracles to a minimum, hey?" John said as he left the room and he knew at least that meant John would keep his word.

She almost wished she hadn't been brought in to support the post-event analysis with the other fledgling Preventers. To immediately start their tenure as a new organization with that kind of work was... disheartening. They hadn't even been able to find the pilots, the pilots had found themselves.

She'd taken too long to find Zechs; and the state he'd been and still was in was disheartening to say the least. But to know all of them except Duo had been suffering, and he too in his own way, that ate away at her. This wasn't war where they had been taught the stakes of being a prisoner, or having them. It had been revenge sure and simple. But they were back, and hell it was freaking her out with what she had seen on those tapes to even hear that Treize was conscious and able to speak.

The torture had been brutal, there was no other word for it; they had processed the videos just to see what intel might have been real, collected, and logged. Trying to determine if they were taken away to L1 or whatever was left of rebellion on L3, or the old operation meteor people, or. There were too many adversaries, too many people who could use the secrets of the Gundam pilots or OZ.

But they hadn't been going for that; it had been ostensibly to get Zero, but it had simply been brutality. The orchestrator had a grudge, and it was a miracle they were alive.

Anne had said he was interested in visitors, though he was sleeping a great deal and might not be awake. Noin didn't care if she had to wait. After the end of the war, she should have been more supportive but she had been selfishly wallowing in her own issues, trying to hold things together. Then after the battle, Zechs had been there and... Well.

Fuck, that wasn't happening again.

Navigating the hospital was grim; they had guards at all the doors, and the four patients in a semi-central area to give them a modicum of security control, Quatre's removal to the palace notwithstanding. The door to Treize's room opened, and Duo stepped out. "Oh, hey."

Duo looked pretty chipper for someone who had been shot. "Duo, are you okay? Are you meant to be up and around? How are the others?" It was obvious she was here to see Treize, too.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, I'm fine you know. Just flesh wound, really, bandages and drugs yeah?" He flashed her a smile. "About as expected. I'm trying to see when we can spring the General here."

"How is he?" It was weird to see Duo actively supporting Treize, his often declared nemesis but she could only assume that it was Quatre's influence somehow. He could persuade anyone to do anything. She nearly winced as she remembered some of the footage they had seen. The footage of Quatre had caused complete outrage because he looked so angelic and young. Treize on the other hand always looked like a general, even under torture.

He looked fit and strong and like if he could just get into the right position he could turn the tables. Except that had started to break down at the end, and she wondered how he was, how he had managed as the stoicism and glib disaffection had broken off. "Weird." Duo was brutally honest, and flashed her a smile. "He... I dunno. He's a weird messed up dude. I got kind of used to him in Luxembourg."

She'd seen some of those weird moments in his life and it was never anything good. "He has a right to be," Noin answered. "And the others? Quatre's not here at the hospital?"

"Quatre... you know, the space heart thing." Duo mimicked the chest touch she had seen Quatre do. "Hospitals ain't good for him. But he wants to see the General. Wufei's... healing. Heero's half dead. Trowa's pretty fucked up." There was no light in his eyes when he tried to shrug it off. "No good news really."

"Damn, Duo..." Noin exhaled. "That's shit." Completely shit. They didn't deserve this - you took your knocks in battle fair and square knowing the risks but torture. No, there was no shrugging that off. Zechs had survived, barely, his own brush with the 'collection team', but it was so much better than having been held by them.

Duo looked up at her, shoving a hand into his pocket. "Yeah. It's shit. Anyway, he's sort of conscious if you want to see him. He's on the good painkillers, though, spine's all fucked up."

"Okay... We'll catch up later yeah?" she said, as she started to open the door. There was more going on there under the surface, she could tell from the look in his eyes.

"Yeah. I'm around here and in the palace, just trying to... visit people and help." He gave a shrug when he said it, and she would have to follow up with him because he was a good person. He'd been mistreated in a different way, underground and on the run that whole time, looking for the other pilots. And he and the Maguanacs did what their larger intel organization hadn't been able to do.

"See ya."

She headed into the room, quiet in case Treize was resting, and more than ready to sit a while. His head and eye were bandaged again and there was evidence of dressings everywhere. The click of the door would let him know someone was there if he was not asleep. He had always been a light sleeper on transports. There had been so many times that she had seen him sitting upright, apparently napping against a bulkhead, listening to the conversation around him and able to interject with little warning that he wasn't asleep. So she closed the door and waited a few beats to see if there was a response.

"Back already, Duo?"

"Sorry to disappoint sir," Noin answered and approached him. "If you want to rest, I can go, or sit here and keep watch." For some reason they always said that, 'keep watch' rather than just wait. It was a way of saying it was safe to rest, someone else was on duty.

"Hmn." He opened his eye, and his head lolled to look at her. "Noin, good to see you. How are you?"

"Worried sick about you sir," Noin said, sitting down by his bedside on his good vision side. "How are you feeling?"

He didn't seem too inclined to move but pulled a hand out from under the bedding to either adjust the sheets or try to sit up. It was hard to tell. "Been worse."

"I'm trying to think exactly when that was because I've definitely seen you look better," Noin replied lightly. "I'm very grateful you got out of there alive, all of you."

"Couple of weeks ago counts as worse. Congratulations on executing the election. Lots of work we left hanging for you." His mouth twitched a little like he was trying to smile

"Well, I wanted to shoot most of them as they were wasting my time when I wanted to be helping look for all of you but Lady Anne said to stop the elections was playing into their hands."

"Getting everyone safely through the elections was very important." She could just about imagine Vingt saying that, his more Dorothy-like interest in politics, and the few times she had seen the two brothers work together… Had been on things like this, like the elections. Big moving pieces, setting up the blockades. "I’m glad you stayed on to do that."

"We're not going anywhere sir," Noin said leaning forward. "I'm surprised you're awake."

His gaze was wandering a little. "I'm surprised I keep waking up. Nothing to be done, so don't need to be alert, do I?"

"No, no you don't," she said softly, worried at that. "You deserve a break, a good long rest to recuperate."

"After L3's last rebellion, I told Sally I was rather at the end of my tether. I think I'm just going to retire and go away now." He threw in a rather tight quick smile.

Oh, she didn't like the sound of 'and go away now'. That was sort of ominous. "If anyone deserves a rest it is you Treize, but...you do get bored easily. Usually, we have to fight to keep you still."

He closed his eye, and something crossed his face, a tremor like he was holding back something. "There was always so much to be done, wasn't time to stop. The peace is loosely codified, the election stands, OZ becomes something better... I think I'm done."

Without thinking, Noin reached out and took his hand, wanting to give him something to just...hold on to. Or something. "You've always said, get the mission done and then you can do what you like. You are right, it is done. You deserve to do what you want."

He held on, gave a squeeze of acknowledgment. "Didn't plan to survive the last war. Suppose I'll have to stop procrastinating on working out what that might be." Treize opened his eye, and looked at her. "How've you been?"

"Frantic, feeling useless for not being able to find you all," Noin said truthfully. "Thinking I'd lost Zechs again and you and that I was alone."

"He's like a cat. Always somehow lands on his feet." Treize lifted an eyebrow at her, and added, "Remember when he crashed in Mogadishu?"

"I told him he just did it for drama," Noin said lightly. "It's like he tripped over thin air. He says it was battle damage but no one could lay a finger on him that day."

"He was amazing. You were amazing." He moved his hand a little, looking around the room. "My amazing unit filled out with child soldiers. It's no wonder we don't know what to do now."

It was a good point. None of them knew how to be anything else -- was it any wonder that all of them, when faced with the end of war, planned not to survive? "Perhaps it is time to learn how the rest of the world does work."

"Tempted to go be a hermit in a castle but the damn things have too many steps." He was trying for a lighter tone.

"How are your injuries? Are the Doctors going to operate?" Noin asked, just holding on to his hand.

It was really just about the only thing she could do. He gave a thoughtful sigh, clearly searching for a way to answer that. "Already did. Might have some more cleanup work planned. Wasn't good. I can just about stand up, but the pain is quite unique."

"Shit, so... Walking is going to be tough?" Not impossible, surely not impossible. Treize was always standing tall in her mental images of him.

"John said I should pick out a wheelchair that I'll enjoy using, and get it fitted properly." He quirked an eyebrow at her, "which was rather roundabout for him. I shouldn't even be able to stand, given the damage."

"If you can stand then there is hope," she said. "I want you to be able to recover. And the others. I haven't seen them yet."

"Sometimes they'd bring you into the room and there's blood on the floor. Never could guess whose was whose. Probably variously not good." He squeezed her hand again, more lightly.

"But the reports had you managing to get out yourselves," Noin stated as if saying it forcefully would take away the fear of life-changing injuries. "And if you can move then... Is it so bad?"

Treize's face was very controlled, historically, but she could see a flicker of misery and upset. "Adrenaline can achieve a lot. I should be dead from sepsis in a couple of different ways."

It didn't explain it but there was obviously another factor here. She contemplated telling Treize about Zechs but decided that was a topic to avoid right now. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Wouldn't say no to bad French novels? Reading's dicey otherwise." He was trying to sound upbeat and hopeful, but the despair was right there under the surface.

"If they will help I'll find you some," Noin promised, grasping at anything to feel useful. "Anything you need, just let me know. None of this trying not to be a burden thing, I am being selfish because we all felt so useless trying to find you."

"Recognized a couple of them. People in Dorothy's sphere. Anne's already chasing that." He blinked hard, like he was shaking off sleep, and his fingers were starting to go lax. "Sometimes wonder if this is just reaping what we sowed. Vingt and I."

"No sir, no..." She was appalled at the thought that he might think it was owed or deserved or an acceptable consequence. "You are tired, and need to rest. Do you want me to go on watch?"

His fingers moved a little as if he was reminding himself where he was. "Just for a bit. Know you have Zechs to get back to."

"It's okay. Duo said he'd be back at some point," Noin said gently, feeling her throat tighten just a little. "I won't leave you alone. I've got your back, sir."

He was drifting off by trying to stay awake, and finally gave a vague nod, and went quiet. She couldn't imagine going that long without having just a normal conversation face to face with someone else, nevermind being tortured the whole time.

Whatever it took, if it meant staying on Earth to make sure he got the chance to heal however he chose, she would do it. It was the very least she owed him.

He rested awhile, still sore and exhausted from his brief bout of physio. He stirred from a drowsing nap at someone knocking his door, and entering, using a cane and limping badly.

He wasn't expecting Zechs to visit.

Treize hadn't asked after him; he'd assumed Zechs was alive, and Noin and the rest, and they'd all been rather intensely concerned with their own damage, but Zechs was the other Zero pilot, and he hadn't been with them. "Hmn, hello. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I wanted to see how you were," Zechs replied. "We have all been very concerned about our friends."

"Glad to hear it." He was bolstered enough by having seen John, even if the man knew how to rip open a festering wound with words, that he could fake it for a while. "Looks like you had a close call."

"Mmm." Zechs had always tried to bear injuries with dignity, but these must have been bad for him to be gripping so intensely to his support. He smiled nonetheless. "I thought the story would amuse you at the least. I was not spared the attentions of those after pilots."

If the takedown attempt had been simultaneous, which had felt like it was because he had already been too late when he'd reached Quatre, "it's been nine weeks. Whatever happened to you must've been bad. Pull up a chair." Like he was holding court, with a couple of bags helping to take care of his body functions, more IVs than he knew what to do with, and the ridiculous heart rate monitor that they had thankfully turned the noise down on.

Zechs sat carefully, his relief palpable. "I was staying at one of the Peacecraft chateaus," he said. "With Noin... It was the one that sits up on the cliffs overlooking the Sanc River, you know the one?"

"I remember it, yes." John used his cane like a damn weapon, an extension of his body but it seemed to not mesh well with Zechs. "With the windows over the drop."

Zechs chuckled. "Rushing to the punchline as ever. We were in the main receiving room when intruders burst in. Both Noin and I were fighting them hand to hand and one of them went to shoot her. I dove at him, becoming shot in the process, and the pair of us hit that window hard enough to go through." Zechs paused. "My assailant and I hit the first projecting rocks - I heard his neck snap and I... hit what felt like everything else and dropped into the river."

Treize exhaled, and he would've whistled if he could manage it without feeling the bandages pull obnoxiously. "I guessed it had to be bad if you're still out on a cane. I know how eager you usually are to get yourself back together."

"Mmm. I was washed away," Zechs replied with surprisingly little self-pity. "I was pretty much unconscious and remained that way for a while. Noin thought I was dead, the kidnappers thought I was dead...hell, I did for a while. I was fished out and taken to a hospital and was in a coma for three weeks.

He hadn't known. He hadn't known because he'd been, fuck, probably up to his tonsils in angry ex alliance officer at the time, and he turned that thought over a little, using the bitterness as a shield from it. Of course they would have gone for Zechs, but he hadn't thought about it, hadn't worried about Zechs, and what did that say about him? Because of course, he was fine, Treize hadn't expected anything less. "That's not an easy thing to come back from."

"No. Apparently my injuries are substantial - there was much talk of medical miracles," Zechs said with a twist to the smile that showed what he thought of that. "I was...unrecognizable to start with, and Noin.” He shook his head. "Despite everything, seeing me plunge to my death, she still checked all the hospital admissions made around that time. She found me...I wanted to be able to help come after you. All I could do was give the information about my assailants."

The only thing he could think was that if Zechs had been a medical miracle as well, they wouldn't look quite so hard at the larger group and find Quatre in their midst. "You survived. That's... about the goal right now."

"For you as well," Zechs agreed. "I did not want you to think I was not doing everything I could, what little that turned out to be." It was interesting that Zechs felt he needed to clarify that - maybe once he would have been consumed with doubt and depression that he had not been in evidence, but not now.

He'd given up on Zechs a while ago, a long while ago it felt like, and his miraculous reappearance at Mars hadn't... perhaps ever really sunk in. Which of them was alive and which of them was dead, did it really matter? "I." He stopped himself, turned it over in his mind. "Didn't have hope of rescue, so I didn't spend much time considering who might be trying. The precision they attacked the palace with spoke to organized skilled professionals."

"They were very organised," Zechs agreed. "To successfully capture most of the Gundam pilots and yourself - in the middle of a high-security event. They appeared to be a group from nowhere. Noin said they had nothing until Maxwell came back with a name from somewhere. That provided a thread to follow."

A name from somewhere. He couldn't muster feigned curiosity, which he knew would've been expected of him because he was always curious. "Duo hasn't spoken much about it. Or maybe he has and I don't recall. The drugs have been very good."

"Mmm, I know that feeling," Zechs replied. "How are you feeling?" It was something he could almost imagine Noin had instructed him to say because Zechs didn't normally ask, although he could be doing him a bit of a disservice.

That one he managed a smile for, and did the extra work of going for an answer beyond ''terrible". "I managed to stand up today, with support. For about a minute or two. Red banner day all around."

Zechs nodded, mustering a smile in appreciation of the feat. "That's good news. The next one will be when you are able to leave. Have they given you any estimates?"

"No. They haven't been talking to me, so I had Watson come in and force his way into things." The real goal between free to leave and where he was just then was to see Quatre, but it seemed like an inappropriate topic to throw out with Zechs sprawled in a chair, looking pained. "And his estimate was that I should be six feet under, so no idea."

Zechs smiled and shook his head. "That seems to be a trend. It's probably time to stop doing that - just a thought."

It didn't quite hit as funny and he wasn't feeling jaunty, which was uncharitable of him. "I'm resigning once they release me." Which at the rate he was going was going to be after the elections.

That seemed to surprise Zechs from the way he straightened up. "Completely?" he asked. "I'd heard talk but... I could never imagine you actually retiring."

Probably because his intention had always been to die in combat.

But there wasn't going to be any more battles; he'd walked away from the last one. Well. Been put on a stretcher and then spent a couple of days in hospital trying to cheer Quatre up and not let things get too out of hand, which they had. It counted as having walked away in terms of how bad a mech crash could go.

"I know you were busy being smug at me at the time, but when I first came to speak to you and Noin after Barton's attack, it was the only point I was trying to make. I'd positioned Noin to take over, and when she... dodged it, for lack of a better idea, I pivoted to Sally. I can't do this, haven't been able to do it for months. I apparently have been faking it very well."

Zechs accepted the blunt words. "I...misunderstood the situation. I believed it had upset one of your plans, but I didn't imagine a situation where you weren't in it. I had a perception that you wanted to use Noin and I needed to keep your focus on me. At least until the incident with Quatre. Sometimes too much history is hard to shake off. I apologize Treize."

It actually sounded genuine this time, not something made to get what he wanted.

He still didn't know what to do with it. "I don't have any plans." He bought a hand up to rub at his good eye, feeling disjointed and on his back foot a little like usual with Zechs. "Not sure what I'm doing after this, but I have to-- before this happened, it was too much." Now, he hadn't taken time to think or process, but there was no way the time spent in captivity had somehow made everything better.

An alarm beeped on Zech's watch and he glanced at it as he replied. "I understand. I've… given up on myself before. Taking the time will help I'm sure." He got up stiffly. "That was a reminder for my outpatient appointment. As it takes me a long time to get anywhere, I better go. But I hope you do not mind me visiting? If you are still here next time perhaps we could play chess or cards?"

Zechs had given up before. Was that what he was doing? Or being seen as doing, giving up? "Of course." It wasn't as if he had anything better to do. "I'd like to see you again."

He nodded. "Thank you. I'll see you soon," he said even as he left Treize alone with that phrase stuck in his head.

He closed his eye, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and struggling to put that thought down. Giving up.

Yes, maybe he was giving up.