Quatre’s Humiliation


I feel miserable. Legs bound to a chair... in bandages. Broken. It isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last. People around me are pissed. They hate me. I am a Gundam pilot, one of their worst enemies. That’s what they have been taught and I can’t blame them. My shoulder burns in this position, with my arms bound behind the chair. It hasn’t healed completely yet. But no matter what, I am not going to speak.


One of these poor, lost souls has been set on me. A beginner in his office, who will try be be curel, but will not be very convincing. What does he want to know? While I am fiddling with the ropes around my wrists I am barely aware of him talking. Something about Gundams, something about strategies, locations, secrets… and a word or two about the scientists.


Scientists have separated me from my Trowa without giving me the reason, but I won’t betray them. The worst things on earth happened to my love, but I know the scientists are necessary to keep the hopes for peace upright.

“It isn’t dictatorship the world needs,” I tell the young officer. “If you believe in OZ, you are mistaken. I am here to end this war and to establish freedom on earth and the colonies. We belong together. I know OZ camps, but do you really want to be a tool of the aristocracy? Even I, who is the born son of an aristocratic family, even I just want to be equal to the others.”

For a moment I think I have him, but then his vision darkens again. He says I am a talker, and he has been warned. I sigh… warned to protect his poor little brain from thinking reasonably. Really, he isn’t to blame. He punches my cheek with his fist and I feel the iron taste of blood on my tongue. Without giving out any other emotion than my sorrow for him, I say:

“Is it really so much fun to hurt me? To mistreat others for the sake of the people you are working for?”

It raises his fury, and he punched me right again. I take the blow without a blink. Unfortunately, the impact makes me slide aside a little and I feel a stinging pain in my shoulder. I am trying my best not to loose control – in anger for those people who control this poor young man.

“What do you want to hear?” I ask stubbornly.

“As I said, the location of the Gundams and the other pilots for once,” he says.

“I don’t know these.”

“Who’s behind you, conducting you?”

“We fend for ourselves.”

“And we want you to agree to pilot for us.”


“You’ll regret it.”

“I’ll never fly for OZ, the alliance or Romefeller. I wouldn’t even fly for the Peacecraft family. Don’t you see, that I have my own mind – that I fight for what I think is right, and that is peace. All those who are against peace have to be eliminated, and I am sorry to have to fight against young and promising people like you.”

The officer is confused – I have him where I want to have him.

“Listen, you are a human being… you are not anyone’s tool, you are a soul yourself. Walk around in this hospital and look at the people. They are hurt… they might be dying because some people can’t see that nobody has the right to have control over other human beings, because some people don’t see, that everyone is born equal.”

“You are a Gundam pilot.”

“Because someone has to fight for peace! Because someone understands, that war leads us nowhere, but a dictatorship is even worse,” I say miserably. The soldier retreats, thinking about what I have said. I can’t stop talking now, but I have to chose my words well, to gain his sympathy.

I can’t keep talking. At that very moment, an older soldier bursts in and commands the smaller one to leave the room at once. My hopes sink. This one doesn’t look as if he could be talked into something.

“Quatre Winner!” he snorts.

“Oz soldier!” I spit back darkly.

“No, I am not.” He takes off his jacket. He doesn’t wear an Oz uniform beneath, but a light blue shirt.

“Who are you?”`

“I’ve been infiltrating this hospital to meet you.”

My eyes widen in shock. I recognize his face. “No! NO!” I gasp, pulling on my arms wildly, trying to get loose.

“You know we weren’t finished with you!” He grabs my jaw and makes me look into his face… his ugly face.


“You know what we wanted to do…”

“Get away!” I can’t veil the pure horror I am feeling. I know what this is about, and I wished I did not!

“You think anyone minds Quatre Winner calling here?”

“HELP!” I cry, so that even Oz must hear that something is wrong. “RAPE! SOMEONE IS GOING TO RAPE ME!”

He just laughs at me. “Exactly!”

I snap at him, trying to bite him. Within a moment, he has pulled a cloth out of his pocket and forced into my mouth, bound at the back of my head. I am successfully shut up. I almost choke on that dusty thing. I try to kick, but my legs are bound, and they still hurt from the earlier tortures of him and his ‘friends’.

Why me? I wonder silently. What makes him hate me so badly?

Why is fighting for peace so horrible? Why do I always get the feeling, I am the enemy of those whom I am trying to protect? My wrists are getting unbound, but before I can start to fight with my newly freed hands, a kick into my spine sends me flying to the floor. The ropes on my feet burn into my flesh. He keeps me down and undoes those, too, before they break my ankles. He binds my hands back together, and I just can’t fight him.

I choke on the cloth, and now on tears, too.

All efforts to try and scramble away, all muffled yelps and cries are in vain. Oz has successfully captured me, so others can have their fun with me. It wasn’t their intend, I know, but it serves this guys purpose. This group, only street guys, are mangling with a war they do not comprehend, and they worsen it… oh, gods, and how they do. Will they make me incapable of fighting anymore, now stuck up with that problem, too?

My silent cries and pleads to get him off me, to stop hurting me, inside and out, get lost in the room. Nobody is coming to help me… nobody will tear him off me. I am painfully aware of my situation.


I almost tasted what if must have felt like for you, Trowa. Now I know… I wished none of us had. My tears drench the cloth as he mindlessly keeps on going. My only thought is on freeing myself, getting out of here, now!

I yank on my hands, which are bound together on my back. I yank them over my head, ignoring the numbing pain in my shoulder as it jumps out of it’s socket. If I can’t get away from this, I need to get away from Oz! With my teeth, about to choke, I open the knot. He’s too busy to realize. I try anything to not concentrate on what he is doing to me, but his voice echoes in my ear, and I am unable to get away. It hurts! I have never known such pain before! I take the rope that bound my hands into my mouth, so I have more to bite on, and I can stop myself from screaming out in pain.

Oh… anyone… safe me…! Kill me…! Someone, come and shoot me! Oz soldier, come back and stop this boy! Make it stop! Make it stop…!


After what seems to be eternity, my torture is done. A voice in my head tells me, that I can’t stay here and cry about all this. I need to take the advantage I have now. I turn around and punch my knee in his groin, which, of course, is exposed to me. I jump up and pull my pants back up, while he his crouching on the chair, his face turning white. Some rage tells me to stay here and beat him, but I know I need to set my mind on getting out of here and I don’t even have the strength to beat him for long. I grab his uniform jacket and hat. I don’t have the pants or boots, but this must be enough! I can’t stay here any longer, not with physical and emotional pressure. Yet, I only feel the physical pain, and I have a vague idea what it will do to me, once my mind is clear again. Everythig hurts… my legs and shoulders, wrists, but worst… worst is where he has hurt me… I don’t know whether I am bleeding… I jam my shoulder against the wall to set it back into place. The pain seems to be nothing compared to what I have already endured.


Right… you warned me love, but you were wrong. This wasn’t Oz. It was them again, and who knows how they found me and why they still hate me so much? I pass the front desk, and the woman doesn’t see much but the upper part of my body over the desk. Fortunately, or she would see I don’t wear a full uniform.


“Mam?” I turn around.

“I can’t let you out sir.  Do you have your I.D.?”

I fumble in the uniform jacket, but I am not lucky. There’s nothing in there, but pack of cigarettes.


I open the pack and find a lighter and four Marlboro Lights in there. I start lightening one.


“Yes, mam?” I say grumpily.

“You can’t smoke in here, sir.” I counted on that.

“You said I can’t go out.”

She looks around, obviously torn between her duties.

“Listen, I have just beaten up that damned Gundam pilot, and he hit me real hard in my stomach, plus, officer Cardes is trying to hit on me, and I am pissed! I need a cigarette or I’ll burst. So either let me smoke or send me outside.”

“Well, five minutes, sir.”

“Thanks, mam.”

I try to walk out steadily, although I can barely stand. Fortunately, she doesn’t look up again. I have to be careful not to walk too fast, disbelieving that the nightmare finally is over, that I am finally out of here, and my only task is to find Duo before I fall unconscious. I walk around the hospital and find a phone booth. A stranger passes by.

“Got a coin?” I ask casually, trying to sound dark, like an Oz officer.


“Cigarette?” I hold out the package. He digs into his pocket for some money. The first time in my life I don’t damn people’s addictions for these unhealthy, stinky things. He gives me enough money for the rest of the package and the lighter, and I can phone.


“Shinigami Duo Maxwell, hello?”



Suddenly there is a lumb in my throat… The voices in my head… I have just gotten out of this damned hospital… I was raped, I was hurt… Duo, help me! Please, help me!

“Quatre?! Are you okay? Are you still there?”

“Duo…” I sob, “Please… get me home… please…!”

“Quatre… goodness… where are you?”

“St. Martha’s Hospital,… Hyde Park… downtown…” I keep sobbing. “Please!”

“I’ll be there in a moment!”

“I’m wearing an Oz uniform… Duo…”

“Calm down, okay? Solo and I’ll be there.”

He hangs up and I blankly stare at the receiver.

Then I break down and cry.