Title: True Beauty, part one
Author: Lady Snowblossom
Pairings: 1+4, 3+5, various pairings eventually
Rating: PG
Category: Drama
Warnings: yaoi, citrus? lime?, (I am not good at thus) angst.
Disclaimer: Don't own the boys, wish I did. Don't sue, no money.
Archive: Yes, just ask. Email me at mlayfield@yahoo.com
Notes: Duo is a very sick boy and the others are very worried about him. Wufei has a brainstorm that may save him. Feedback is welcome.
The stars were beautiful that night, but the four young men seated on either side of a long white bed had no eyes for celestial displays, their attention was centered on the wan longhaired figure that writhed on the mattress before them.
"Heero! Wufei! Help me! Quatre! Make it stop! Please, oh god! Trowa!" the hoarse voice rose in an impassioned shriek, and then quieted to a pitiful murmur. A murmur they knew wouldn't last. All too soon, Duo would be screaming again.
"Oh, Allah! Please help him!" Quatre's heartbroken prayer tore from his lips as he leaned against Heero and wept. Heero clutched his lover to his chest, while his own tears slipped silently down his cheeks. Never had the Perfect Soldier felt so helpless, as he did now.
Trowa and Wufei sat holding hands and grieved. If Duo's fever didn't break soon, they were going to lose him. Nothing Sally had tried on him was working; the fever and Duo's delirium just kept getting worse.
Duo shuddered as a new wave of pain surged hot and sharp through him. As he thrashed about, he suddenly sank his teeth into his own arm and bit down - hard.
Bright crimson blood welled up and ran down his elbow. Wufei leapt forward and forcibly pried Shinigami's jaws open. Heero jumped up and ran for the medical kit. Trowa and Quatre threw themselves on Duo and held him down.
"Duo! Duo!" Wufei cried, as he clamped a hand over the wound trying to stem the flow of blood. Heero raced back to the bed, kit in hand. Wordlessly, he opened it and handed Wufei a cleansing pad to wash the wound with. Calloused fingers more suited to the hilt of a sword, and then a nursing job gently skimmed the injury, cleaning away all traces of red, before wrapping it in a bandage.
"All right, let him go, now." Heero said, softly to Trowa and Q. The two slowly lifted themselves up, ready in an instant to throw themselves on Duo again, if it were needed. Duo lay still and they relaxed. Heero closed the kit and set it on the floor at his feet. Quietly the four resumed their vigil.
Abruptly, Wufei surged to his feet. He skirted the bed and headed out the door. Behind him startled voices called.
"Wufei?"
"Love?"
"Dragon?"
Ignoring the calls, Wufei strode purposely out in search of some servants. He had an idea, if it worked then Duo would live, if it didn't . . .then unless the Ancestors blessed them with a miracle, Duo would die; and that was something Wufei couldn't bear thinking about.
Rashid looked up from his coffee, as the Chinese boy entered the kitchen. The big man was surprised to see him, for the last few days, they hadn't even been able to get the four to leave Duo long enough to sleep in their beds. Instead, they slept in sleeping bags on the floor by the bed.
"How is he?"
"Ice." Wufei demanded, before adding, "No better."
"Ice?" Rashid queried, raising his eyebrows. What did he want with ice?
"When I was a child on L5, the healer in the temple, where I was raised once lowered a high fever with an ice bath."
Impatiently, Wufei stomped towards the fridge, only to have Rashid intercept him. Rashid gripped Wufei's lower arm in a viselike grip. Onyx eyes looked down at the huge hand, then up into shrewd brown eyes.
"So, you think that by giving Duo an ice bath, you can save him." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.
"What have we got to lose? Sally can't help him, and the gods are ignoring us, so we have to try something." Despair and resolve colored Wufei's words. Rashid released his grip, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"I'll send Abdul for some blocks of ice. We can crush them on the back portico and haul the chips up in buckets to the master bath: short of the swimming pool, its' the largest body of water in the house. Leave everything to me, little master." Rashid left to begin issuing his orders.
Wufei watched the big man go, then turned to rejoin his companions. The halls seemed to stretch for miles, as he hurried along, his route took him past the music room. Something caught his eye, as he walked past, and he went back to see what it was. Lying half on and half off the couch was Duo's jacket.
The piece of fabric drew Wufei like a lodestone; trembling hands lifted the couple of yards of cloth from its resting place. The Chinese boy stroked the rough cloth and lifted it to his face and drew in a deep breath of Shinigami's scent and essence: that heady blend of musk, herbs, citrus, sweat and the underlying bitterness of smoke so uniquely Duo.
"Duo," Wu moaned, dropping to the couch. "Oh, Ancestors, please don't take him from us. We've lost some much all ready! Don't take our bright light!" Shenlong pleaded from his soul, as he crushed the jacket to him. For several minutes, Wufei could do nothing but weep bitter hot tears, as he mourned for his slowly dying loved one.
Finally, he regained control of himself. Now was not the time to fall apart. Now was the time to fight for the life he and the others prized so highly. Iron filled Wufei's soul as he wiped the last of his tears from his cheeks. Letting the coat fall from his fingers, he issued forth to join the battle.
Muffled sounds were emerging from Duo's sick room, when 'Fei reached it. Worried, Wu pushed opened the door, and walked into a nightmare. Quatre was sitting on the floor, buried so deep in Heero's arms, all he could see was a few strands of gold and a piece of pink shirt. Heero's face was a horrible blend of grief and condemnation. Trowa was crammed into a corner, his face in his knees. And from the bed were coming the most heart-rending pleas and soul blasting curses he was ever to hear.
"Sick . . . Somebody . . . Hold me . . .No one cares . . .Everyone hates me . . .No one wants me . . .I hope they all rot in Hell! They love each other . . .Can't they love me? Leave 'em . . . I'll do. Oz . . .Wipe out . . .serve 'em right. No . . .No . . . Didn't mean it. I love you, Hee-chan. Trowa - koi, Q-chan, Wu-kun,"
Stunned, Wufei sank to the floor. "Why didn't you tell us?" He whispered.
Author: Lady Snowblossom
Pairings: 1+4, 3+5, various pairings eventually
Rating: PG
Category: Drama
Warnings: yaoi, citrus? lime?, (I am not good at thus) angst.
Disclaimer: Don't own the boys, wish I did. Don't sue, no money.
Archive: Yes, just ask. Email me at mlayfield@yahoo.com
Notes: Duo is a very sick boy and the others are very worried about him. Wufei has a brainstorm that may save him. Feedback is welcome.
The stars were beautiful that night, but the four young men seated on either side of a long white bed had no eyes for celestial displays, their attention was centered on the wan longhaired figure that writhed on the mattress before them.
"Heero! Wufei! Help me! Quatre! Make it stop! Please, oh god! Trowa!" the hoarse voice rose in an impassioned shriek, and then quieted to a pitiful murmur. A murmur they knew wouldn't last. All too soon, Duo would be screaming again.
"Oh, Allah! Please help him!" Quatre's heartbroken prayer tore from his lips as he leaned against Heero and wept. Heero clutched his lover to his chest, while his own tears slipped silently down his cheeks. Never had the Perfect Soldier felt so helpless, as he did now.
Trowa and Wufei sat holding hands and grieved. If Duo's fever didn't break soon, they were going to lose him. Nothing Sally had tried on him was working; the fever and Duo's delirium just kept getting worse.
Duo shuddered as a new wave of pain surged hot and sharp through him. As he thrashed about, he suddenly sank his teeth into his own arm and bit down - hard.
Bright crimson blood welled up and ran down his elbow. Wufei leapt forward and forcibly pried Shinigami's jaws open. Heero jumped up and ran for the medical kit. Trowa and Quatre threw themselves on Duo and held him down.
"Duo! Duo!" Wufei cried, as he clamped a hand over the wound trying to stem the flow of blood. Heero raced back to the bed, kit in hand. Wordlessly, he opened it and handed Wufei a cleansing pad to wash the wound with. Calloused fingers more suited to the hilt of a sword, and then a nursing job gently skimmed the injury, cleaning away all traces of red, before wrapping it in a bandage.
"All right, let him go, now." Heero said, softly to Trowa and Q. The two slowly lifted themselves up, ready in an instant to throw themselves on Duo again, if it were needed. Duo lay still and they relaxed. Heero closed the kit and set it on the floor at his feet. Quietly the four resumed their vigil.
Abruptly, Wufei surged to his feet. He skirted the bed and headed out the door. Behind him startled voices called.
"Wufei?"
"Love?"
"Dragon?"
Ignoring the calls, Wufei strode purposely out in search of some servants. He had an idea, if it worked then Duo would live, if it didn't . . .then unless the Ancestors blessed them with a miracle, Duo would die; and that was something Wufei couldn't bear thinking about.
Rashid looked up from his coffee, as the Chinese boy entered the kitchen. The big man was surprised to see him, for the last few days, they hadn't even been able to get the four to leave Duo long enough to sleep in their beds. Instead, they slept in sleeping bags on the floor by the bed.
"How is he?"
"Ice." Wufei demanded, before adding, "No better."
"Ice?" Rashid queried, raising his eyebrows. What did he want with ice?
"When I was a child on L5, the healer in the temple, where I was raised once lowered a high fever with an ice bath."
Impatiently, Wufei stomped towards the fridge, only to have Rashid intercept him. Rashid gripped Wufei's lower arm in a viselike grip. Onyx eyes looked down at the huge hand, then up into shrewd brown eyes.
"So, you think that by giving Duo an ice bath, you can save him." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.
"What have we got to lose? Sally can't help him, and the gods are ignoring us, so we have to try something." Despair and resolve colored Wufei's words. Rashid released his grip, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"I'll send Abdul for some blocks of ice. We can crush them on the back portico and haul the chips up in buckets to the master bath: short of the swimming pool, its' the largest body of water in the house. Leave everything to me, little master." Rashid left to begin issuing his orders.
Wufei watched the big man go, then turned to rejoin his companions. The halls seemed to stretch for miles, as he hurried along, his route took him past the music room. Something caught his eye, as he walked past, and he went back to see what it was. Lying half on and half off the couch was Duo's jacket.
The piece of fabric drew Wufei like a lodestone; trembling hands lifted the couple of yards of cloth from its resting place. The Chinese boy stroked the rough cloth and lifted it to his face and drew in a deep breath of Shinigami's scent and essence: that heady blend of musk, herbs, citrus, sweat and the underlying bitterness of smoke so uniquely Duo.
"Duo," Wu moaned, dropping to the couch. "Oh, Ancestors, please don't take him from us. We've lost some much all ready! Don't take our bright light!" Shenlong pleaded from his soul, as he crushed the jacket to him. For several minutes, Wufei could do nothing but weep bitter hot tears, as he mourned for his slowly dying loved one.
Finally, he regained control of himself. Now was not the time to fall apart. Now was the time to fight for the life he and the others prized so highly. Iron filled Wufei's soul as he wiped the last of his tears from his cheeks. Letting the coat fall from his fingers, he issued forth to join the battle.
Muffled sounds were emerging from Duo's sick room, when 'Fei reached it. Worried, Wu pushed opened the door, and walked into a nightmare. Quatre was sitting on the floor, buried so deep in Heero's arms, all he could see was a few strands of gold and a piece of pink shirt. Heero's face was a horrible blend of grief and condemnation. Trowa was crammed into a corner, his face in his knees. And from the bed were coming the most heart-rending pleas and soul blasting curses he was ever to hear.
"Sick . . . Somebody . . . Hold me . . .No one cares . . .Everyone hates me . . .No one wants me . . .I hope they all rot in Hell! They love each other . . .Can't they love me? Leave 'em . . . I'll do. Oz . . .Wipe out . . .serve 'em right. No . . .No . . . Didn't mean it. I love you, Hee-chan. Trowa - koi, Q-chan, Wu-kun,"
Stunned, Wufei sank to the floor. "Why didn't you tell us?" He whispered.