19 Apr 2001
Pairings: Treize, Zechs and Wufei puddle!
Warnings: lemon, lemon and lemon -- and angst, o' course. ^__^ Not owned by us. ^_^
The face of the physician looking over Treize was grim. "We need two litres of *warmed* Ringer's lactate in him immediately," she told her team. "I'm estimating his shock level at Class III, but it could go as bad as Class IV, so we need to wark *fast.* Beaulieu," she directed a nurse, "tell the lab we need *warm*, packed red cells, O negative."
"Yes, Madam!"
The nurse that had brought Treize in from the ambulance put a warmed blanket over him. "Monsieur Khushrenada? I'm Martine. You're in the hospital. Do you remember coming here?"
"Nn-hn." It sounded affirmative, but slurred badly. Treize felt cold, exhuasted, shaking everytime he tried to move so he didn't try anymore, to move... "Hurts."
"You've lost a lot of blood, that's the reason that you're feeling so cold. We're going to get some fluids in you that will warm you up, and the blood that will come later will be warm as well. Can you stay awake for me Monsieur?"
Just then, the nurse from Zechs's team came in and asked Martine if she could speak to the patient. After a quick nod, she leaned down next to Treize and smiled. "Monsieur? Your partner, Monsieur Marquise, is in the room down the hall. He is very concerned about you, and wanted me to see how you are and to let you know that he is fine. He has a bullet wound as well, but it is being taken care of and is not life-threatening." She lowered her voice so that just Treize could hear. "I think he must love you very much, Monsieur. He is fighting us at every turn to get in here to you."
A small, weak smile curled Treize's mouth. Zechs was safe. Not dead as he'd feared -- safe, doing well. "Gut..."
"Let's start repairing," Martine murmured as she started to put a thin IV into the top of his hand. "Tell the lab to bring the blood up there." She'd seen many times, the difference an assurance like that could make to a paitient in such a state, how quickly it could make them want to cling to life again...
Two hours later, Zechs woke up in a hospital room bed, still a bit groggy from the painkillers and very aware of his injured shoulder. "Treize?" he murmured, sitting up and wincing. The room was dim, only a small nightlight glowing in one corner and Zechs could see nothing as he got up gingerly. Dizzy, but moving fairly well, he crept over to the door and peered out into the corridor. /Maybe I can find his room - no, that's stupid, Zechs. When you want the best results, go to the top and in hospitals, that means the head nurse./
Unhappily aware that someone had put him into a hospital gown, he walked slowly up to the momentarily calm nurses's station.
"Excuse me, I'm wondering about the status of the man who was brought in with me. Can you tell me anything about Treize Khushrenada?"
The nurse looked at his with some concern, as she flipped through charts. "Intensive Care. You should go back to you *own* room, sir."
/Intensive care? Oh, God - was it that bad?/ Having worn himself out cursing the paramedics, Zechs tried another tack. "I know I should, and I *will*, really, but... look, he's very important to me... he and I..." He hesitated, not knowing if the woman would approve or not, not knowing if telling her how he felt about Treize would help him or hurt him. Finally, though, he realized it didn't matter. "I'm very much in love with him," he said quietly, "I want to spend my life with him, actually, and... and I just want to see him. In case..." He looked up at her and took a deep breath. "Just once, please?"
The nurse thinned her lips, looking to a younger nurse. "Linay, come here. I want you to escort this man back to his room. Make sure he puts a robe on, then take him up to Monsuier Khushrenada. No more than fifteen minutes."
She suddenly looked like a saint to him. He smiled as best he could with the gnawing shoulder pain and murmured, "Oh, *thank you*, Madame," as the younger woman led him back to his room.
Ten minutes later he was standing in the strange and lonely waiting room for the Intensive Care Unit. Linay had found him a blue cotton bathrobe that reached to just below his knees and he was grateful for its warmth, as well as its coverage. While Linay spoke with the ICU head nurse, Zechs stared through the large, plate glass window at the man he had, only that morning, held and kissed.
Treize was strangely pale, lying with his eyes closed and hooked up to a number of monitoring devices. /So fragile... he shouldn't look so fragile... and it absolutely, with out a doubt cannot end here. I won't let it, Treize... I'll move heaven and earth if I have to but I'm not losing you here.../
"You can come in, sir," Linay spoke softly. "He's sleeping right now, but he's been awake intermitantly. They're going to keep him up here until his condition stabilises."
She let him into the room, a large space that held seven or eight other paitients from the evening. "Perhaps you can tell us a few things, Monsieur -- we only know his name and blood type. The police want him to make a statement when he's better, but they need to know now what his address is, what country he's from..."
/I suppose this is where the lie ends,/ Zechs thought to himself. A part of him wanted to make something up, say that he was from England, of course, and give them his own address. But he couldn't. Not now. The truth had become far too important for that, scary as the thought was of what it might bring.
"He's from Alsace-Lorraine. I... I don't know the exact address, but I can have it for you fairly quickly if I can use a phone." He would tell the police, as well, that Treize was the man who'd gone missing in Germany five months ago. He had to, if there was a chance of him having Treize in any "normal" manner.
"May I... may I touch him? Talk to him?"
"Of course," Linay smiled gently, while she asked the head nurse of the room for the telephone. "Be careful -- if he moves too much, his blood-pressure swings violently."
Zechs nodded his understanding and then knelt down by the side of the bed. For a moment he just stared at Treize's face. /Dear God, he's beautiful. Even now... like some kind of marble angel... How can I put the life back into those cheeks?/
Caressing Treize's cheek with his fingertips, Zechs kissed him slowly and whispered, "Treize? Are you awake? It's Zechs."
The two soft touches brought Treize up a little from the sleepy haze, mostly caused by drugs they'd pumped into him. "Zz?"
"I just wanted to come and see how you were doing. I won't stay long because I know you need your sleep. I also wanted... well, first to thank you... for saving my life. I can never repay you for that..."
For a moment, one sapphire eyes cracked open, then drifted closed again. "Mm... Zx stay?"
"As long as they'll let me," the blond replied, stroking Treize's hair. /Too far gone with the drugs... he wouldn't even know I was saying it... have to wait until later.../ "You can rest," he said softly, eyes straying to the monitors that kept watch over Treize's life, and his own as well, really. As he watched the small, greenish line that traced the beat of his lover's heart, he just kept talking. "Everything is going to be all right, Treize. You'll be feeling much better soon... and I can come to your room to steal kisses and make the nurses angry. We can think of all sorts of ways to get rid of the hospital food, except for eating it, of course... and then I'll take you down to the gift shop. If it's anything like the ones in London we can scrape together all our money and buy a pack of chewing gum... And everything will be all right, Treize... it really will..."
A calm smile touched Treize's lips, and he chuckled very very softly. "Glad safe, Zx." With those mumbled words, he moved one hand a little, the movement jerky but intent, to rest lightly atop Zechs' shoulder. "'S kay?"
"Don't move," Zechs whispered. "Just rest. I'm here..."
"S' kay?" he asked again, hand still on Zechs shoulder. It was safe there, with the other man, and though he was having trouble thinking clearly... "Zx?"
"It's okay, Treize," Zechs soothed. "Is there something else?"
He shook his head, a faint little gesture as he relaxed back into the thin matress beneath him, letting his eyes close completely. "Mast'r. Safe, Zx."
"Thanks to you, sweet man... thanks to you." Zechs leaned forward, placing another kiss on Treize's cheek. He knew his time was almost up. A quick nuzzle of the other man's ear and then, only a whisper, "I love you."
Then Zechs closed his eyes and buried his face in Treize's hair.
"Know," was Treize's dragged half-reply, as a hand rested limply atop the back of Zechs' head. "Liebe."
"Sir?" Linay asked softly. "It's time to go -- Monsiuer Khushrenada needs to sleep."
"Hold on for me, Treize," Zechs whispered even as he stood. "I know I've been stupid, but please... hold on..."
"Mm-hm," he mumbled, tone drowsy and happy as his hand dropped back down onto the bed.
"The police are here, sir, waiting in your room for *your* statement," Linay spoke softly. "In a few hours you can come back up here again, all right?"
/Police... well... I wonder what will happen to me now?/ Zechs's thoughts were racing as he walked back to his room with Linay. /How utterly sad and ironic this will be,/ he thought. /I finally figure things out... just in time to be put into prison.../
Linay opened the door to his room, where two men in plain clothes stood.
"Hello, gentlemen," he said softly. "I understand you want to see me. I'm Miriald Peacecraft."
"I am Gendarme Bouchard, and this is Gendarme Belleveau," the older of the two men spoke, in heavily accented English. "Please, sit down."
Zechs did as he was told, his shoulder now throbbing. He didn't remember the last time he'd had painkillers but figured that it must have been at least three hours and whatever they had given him was nearly out of his system.
Still, he looked at the two gendarmes calmly. "What questions can I answer for you, monsieurs?"
"Is there ID for either of you?" was the first question from Belleveau. "We have the shooter in custody -- there's no doubt at all that she shot you, but now we look for the motives behind it."
And that, of course, would lead to Wufei and on to the part where Zechs would rot in prison for the rest of his life. /Cheers to you, Relena -guess you won over me at last.../ "My wallet is on the small table at your left, Monsieur. As for Treize, I don't believe he's had any official Identification since coming to the UK."
"You said you're lovers -- do you know where he's from?" Bouchard asked.
"He told me he was from Alsace-Lorraine. I don't know if he grew up there, but he was working there before he was brought to London." Zechs tilted his head a bit and looked at the policeman curiously. "The woman who shot us was not aiming for Treize, though, Monsieur. She was aiming for me."
"We're aware of that," he murmured smoothly, "However, Monsieur Khushrenada is a man with no documentation, and that is always worrysome -- especially considering that he matches, name and physical description, a man reported missing some months ago. Are you aware of that fact about your companion?"
"Yes, he not only fits the description, he's the same man, Monsieur. He's been living in England, with me, for the last two months."
That suprised them both for a moment, before Belleveau uttered, "And did you know it when you purchased him, sir?"
/In for a penny, in for a pound,/ Zechs thought. "I knew that he had been taken into the slave trade in Britain, no doubt because of the laws there," he said matter-of-factly.
"So you still hold docmentation of ownership, monsiuer?"
"Yes. In England, with the rest of my records."
Both Gendarmes nodded somewhat. "You are aware that it's illegal, then --not to own him, but the fact that it's not a truly legal contract."
Bouchard sighed slightly before he went on, "You can set him free willingly, sir, or you can go to jail and lose all of your slaves because of it. It is at *our* discretion as to whether to take you into custody or not, and Belleveau and I have decided to give you that choice."
/The irony just gets thicker,/ Zechs mused to himself. /Now he'll never know I was going to do it on my own.../ "Well, of course I'll grant him his freedom," Zechs said evenly. "I don't want to go to jail because your country doesn't recognize my country's laws. Is there anything official I need to do?"
"Mail him the contract when you get back to England," Belleveau informed him. "Now, that's cleared up. Do you have any idea why the shooter chose to attack?"
Zechs was beginning to feel numb. /At least it makes the shoulder hurt less... freedom - without Treize... I'm not sure any of it matters now.../ He looked up at the gendarme. "She began to say something, before my bodyguard rendered her unconcious. She might have been referring to another young man who lives with me. I'm wondering if he's her brother. I can give you a telephone number where you can reach him."
"All right, sir," the older gendarme uttered. "Write it down -- we'll cross-referance your ID."
Zechs took the pen and paper the younger man handed him. He was right-handed but found writing to be impossible with that hand because of the shoulder pain, so he scrawled the number he'd given to Wufei as best he could on the paper and and handed it across to Beauchard. "He should be available at that number at any time," Zechs said quietly.
"Thank you very much," the man murmured, folding that peice of paper away. "Let us know when Monsuier Khushrenada is cognisant."
"Yes, of course," Zechs murmured, and stood as the police officers left. /Well, my love... you're a free man. There's no longer anything that really binds us together, except for what we feel for each other. Will that be enough for you, I wonder...?/ He wandered out to the nurse's station once again and addressed the younger nurse there, who was sorting through what looked like a foot-high stack of paperwork.
"Pardon, mademoiselle, I'd like to know how soon I will be able to see my -" He hesitated and a horrible knot seemed to form in his stomach. Were they really lovers, or partners, or anything now? It was all up to Treize. He was quiet for a moment and then, in a quieter voice, said, "My shoulder is hurting me terribly and I'd like to get some sleep. Can you help me with that?"
"Of course, sir," the woman said politely, moving from behind the station, reaching out ot grasp Zechs gently by his better arm. "You'll need to lay down and remain in bed, though, sir, to really recover quickly."
"Zec?" Treize looked blearily around the room; it seemed to be morning, mid-morning, though the light let into the room was minimal. "Zechs...?" His throat felt raw, his chest hurt so badly, but... /Need to see him; be sure he's okay./
"You're awake, Monsieur! Wonderful. How are you feeling this morning?" A motherly-looking face with a kind expression hovered over Treize, adjusting his bedcovers and eyeing the monitors above him.
"Eh, better," he replied, resting back a little. "Can... I see Zechs?" he asked slowly, clearing his throat a little.
"Zechs?" The woman looked puzzled. "Who is Zechs?" she said, bustling around his bed in a a rather frightening display of efficiency. "The doctor is letting you move to a regular room, today, you know. Your condition has been upgraded from serious to fair." Adjusting the IV tubing near him, she gave him a smile. "Now *that's* something to be happy for, yes?"
"Yes," he murmured at length, still groggy and tired. "Zechs is ah... a blonde man. Long hair -- Miriald... Miriald Peacecraft. Is he well?"
"Well, I just came on duty, dear, so I wouldn't know, but if he's a patient I can check on his status for you. Now just rest and I'll be back in a moment."
"All right," he murmured, leting his eyes nearly close again. He wanted to, no, *needed* to see Zechs, to be sure he was doing well, that everything was fine again, and that they'd be going *home* soon.
About 10 minutes later the nurse returned with a cup of ice chips. "Well, it seems your friend, Monsieur Peacecraft, is doing well. He may be released tomorrow, if if there are no complications. Are you in any pain, dear? Do we need to increase your morphine?"
He started to nod his head, then shook it. "Can I see him? Miriald, I mean."
"Well, that'll be up to your doctor to decide, but I'll definately ask for you. Would you like to watch television? The news will be on in ten minutes."
"Mm-hmm," Treize sighed quietly. "I just... need to see him. He's my..." he trailed off, wondering. Master? Lover...? "Companion." A neutral term that was perfectly fitting, no matter what the situation.
"Of course, dear," the nurse soothed, smoothing his pillow and double-checking the flow of the IV. "I'll let you know about that - you just try to rest." She turned on the television, put a remote control unit in his hand, and left.
/I'll see him soon,/ he thought, flicking the volume up one notch, not wanting to wake anyone else in the room.
It was then that his picture flashed on the screen.
"The lawyer reported missing from Bonn over five months ago has been found here in Limoges," a reporter was saying. "When shots were fired at the city's most elegant autumn event, the Bal L'Automne, two men were injured, international finacier Zechs Marquise," and here a photo of Zechs was put up, "and former lawyer Treize Khushrenada," now his photo was back.
"Khushrenada has been missing from his home in Germany for over five months. Suspicions that he had been kidnapped, originally discounted by the lack of any ransom note, were confirmed by police here in Limoges this morning. They believe that Monsieur Khushrenada was taken from Germany illegally and held against his will in Britain. For the last two months he has been living at the home of Monsieur Marquise, whom he was with when he came to Limoges.
"At this time we know that Limoges police have questioned Monsieur Marquise about his knowledge concening Monsieur Khushrenada's status as a possible kidnapping victim, but police are not disclosing the result of that interview to the public and we have yet to learn if charges are being brought against the British financier.
"Both men remain in L'Hospital Centrale Limoges at the present time, with Monsieur Khushrenada listed in fair condition and Monsieur Marquise listed in fair-to-good condition. Family members of Monsieur Khushrenada have been notified, but we have yet to learn whether they intend to come to Limoges or await his return in Germany."
The remote fell from his hand, clattering to the floor. It didn't break, but it surely cracked a little on one edge.
Treize's world, the one he'd become used to while living with Zechs, crumbled inward before his very eyes, thanks to the unconcerned words of a newscaster. Didn't they know he *needed* to stay with Zechs? That he wanted to, that he was happy staying with him...
Charges. Was that why he hadn't seen Zechs yet? Were they bringing charges against him? He didn't want them pressed! /Oh, god... I have to get up, have to... have to see him!/ he thought in a panic, starting to sit up but finding it far too painful.
Anne would come, or she'd call, and he couldn't bring himself to shun them, but he didn't want to re-enter that old life again.
"Zechs, my master," he whispered in a raw voice, eyes closing as dampness slid from the edges of his eyes.
/I can't lose you.../
Alone in his room, Zechs was making a long-distance call. /I'm not going to *mail* it to him... I'll have that damned thing here within two hours and I'll give it to him myself.../
He finished pressing the numbers and listened while the phone rang, far away in Wufei's room...
"Marquise residence -- may I help you?" Wufei's automatic reaction.
"Wufei - it's Zechs," the blond said, forcing his voice to sound normal. "I'm in Limoges and I need you to do something for me. It's urgent..."
On the other side of the line, Wufei quickly became worried. "What's happened?"
"I'll tell you in a moment, but first, I need you to get ahold of Peter. Tell him to find Treize's papers and get them on jet 2 immediately. Tell him to send the pilot to the airfield in Limoges and to have one of our helicopters there take the papers to L'Hospital Limoges Centrale. I need this *immediately* Wufei, do you understand? I'll stay on the line while you call Peter."
Brows drawn together, Wufei put his master on hold, drew a deep breath, then dialed up Peter. "Peter? I need you to do this -- Master's orders, it's urgent." Then he rattled off the specifics, confirmed them, and hung up, going back to Zechs. "They're on their way in moments," he informed his owner. "What's happened?"
"Before I tell you I need to ask a question. Wufei, do you have a sister?"
There was a contemplative pause from Wufei, "I had a lot of siblings."
"Were any of the female ones prone to violence?" Zechs asked, wondering how to ask about such a thing. "Did any of them know you were with me?"
"One or two might have known," Wufei spoke to his master. "But I don't see how...?"
Zechs gave up trying to be subtle. "Wufei... someone tried to kill me yesterday. It was a woman, who looked a lot like you, and she was saying something about her brother... I got hit in the shoulder and Treize... Treize pushed me out of the way and took the second bullet. We're both in the hospital, he's worse off than I am. I was questioned by the police and they knew about Treize being kidnapped and now, if I'm to avoid prison, I have to give him his freedom, which I agreed to do..." He was tired, in pain, and damned near tears, which he hated more than anything else. In a slower, quieter voice, he asked, "Wufei... do you think the woman was your sister?"
"She'd have to be," Wufei whispered softly, throat tight. "Are you coming back soon, Master? And.... will Treize be coming back?"
"I'll be staying until Treize is out of danger... as for him... whether he comes back will be his decision. He doesn't belong to me anymore." There was a wealth of sadness in the deep voice, and something else... something broken.
"Ahh, Master," Wufei whispered softly. "I wish I could be there for you..."
"Yes... I wish that, too... but it's best, really, that you're there. I gave your number to the police. You should expect a call from them... Your sister is fine, I believe, although she has a concussion. Heero had to... to hit her to stop her from... from firing a third time..."
He didn't care if it was his sister or not -- it didn't matter, if she'd tried to kill Zechs. And Treize. "I hopee they put her in jail," he murmured, voice still concerned. "I hope you're well soon, Master!"
"Thank you, dear one. Heero has been here, and I've told him to make arrangements to increase security at the house. You should be safe there, but I don't want you venturing away, all right? I'll talk with you again soon, and thanks for your help. I miss you."
"I miss you, too, Master," Wufei uttered softly. "I can't wait until you come back home..."
Zechs murmured his goodbyes and hung up. /How do I do this? How do I give those papers to him, and not make it look... so horribly insincere.../ He lay on his bed for a long while, staring at the ceiling and search for a solution that question.
The nurse in charge of Treize showed up about 2 o'clock with the news that he would be moved at 5pm that evening. There was also, she told him, a visitor. The door opened and Relena walked into the ICU.
"Hello, Treize... how are you feeling?"
"Like hell," he murmured tiredly. He'd cried some, but the nurse from before had put it down to pain; they couldn't know what was really tearing him apart. "I'd like to see Zechs."
She pulled a chair over to sit next to him. "Zechs is the reason you're in intensive care, Treize. If you hadn't been with him you'd be fine right now. Surely this has been enough to convince you that you need to get away from him."
Eyes closed tightly, Treize shook his head. "I pushed Zechs out of the way, to keep him safe. It was my own choice, Relena."
"I know you did," she acknowledged. "It was very brave and very foolish of you and you're to be commended for doing it of course, but..." Relena sighed softly and gave his hand a squeeze. "You don't want to live that kind of life, do you Treize? A life where something like this is bound to happen - only a matter of when? You deserve better - you *have* better, at home. You have a beautiful daughter and a woman who loves you more than the world. Anne is a wonderful mother, Treize. You should see her with Marimeia - she's so loving and patient with her. She'll make you so happy, Treize... she just needs a chance. And you need to get away from this kind of life... this kind of danger."
"I miss Marimeia so much," Treize sighed quietly, not bothering to pull away from her. "But I can't go back to Anne. I love her like a sister; but I'm very sure that I enjoy men more than women. And your brother... I love him. I don't care, that he c-can't love me back."
Relena sat back in her chair and shook her head softly. "You'll feel differently when you're back at home," she said, her tone quiet but confident. "Just concentrate on getting better so you can come back home. Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable before I go?"
"Zechs. I need to talk to Zechs," he murmured, letting out a sigh of air. "I don't want to go 'home', Relena. I want to go where i belong."
Another long sigh and then Relena rose and walked slowly to the door. She turned around and stared at the man in the bed. "You belong with us, Treize. It's only been five months. Five months. You really *can* put them behind you now." With that, she left, leaving the door to swing slowly shut behind her.
Eyes open only long enough to watch her go, Treize sighed heavily. Five months. In five months, she'd not been through what he had -- five months that had changed his life more surely than anything else could have.
He laid there, dozing and thinking, until the nurse arrived agian, fidgiting a little at his tubes. "Can I see my companion now?"
"I believe he'll be allowed to visit you when you get to your new room. You've got about an hour before the move - best you just rest now."
"Rest..." he sighed, shaking his head a little. Yes, maybe just a little more rest, to keep back the pain...
End of Chapter 30
(:./kumiko/velvet30)
