Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, nor will I ever own it.
Warnings: still a little angsty, but there's more shonen-ai and sap!
Dash - Part Seven
Trowa improved amazingly over the next two weeks. With the help of his pain relievers (which I learned had come from the Victims of Torture Center that he and the others had stayed at - they were the ones who owned the white vans) and my assistance, his hands began to regain their usefulness. He was soon able to feed, dress, and bathe himself - although it wasn't very effective most of the time.
He sat next to me at the table during breakfast. I had cut his pancake into little triangles for him after he had doused it with syrup. He lifted his fork shakily and poked at the food on his plate. I watched him struggle with it for a minute before he looked up at me.
"This isn't working...."
I smiled slightly. "You need to get your muscles back to normal, though...you have to use them to warm them up again."
He frowned. "I know." He stared at the pancake and placed his fork right above it, watching intently, as if it was about to move, then stabbed it quickly. He smiled in victory as he brought the full fork to his mouth.
He ate the rest of his pancake in the same manner, finishing within about fifteen minutes. As he stood to carry his plate to the sink, I stopped him.
"Wait."
"Hm?" He looked at me as if he had done something wrong and didn't know it.
I stood and stepped closer, studying his cheek. "You have some...syrup...." I reached up and touched my finger to his cheek in an attempt to get the sticky stuff off.
He looked a little uneasy, as he usually did when I was around him. It was strange that he had never seemed to get used to it...but I figured it must have been what happened to him. Who wouldn't be uncomfortable being so close to someone after what he had been through?
His eyes darted to where my finger was, and he said, "I can get it...."
"No, I got it. There's just a little."
He stepped back and turned his head, but I - being unprepared - didn't move, and I found my finger slightly between his lips for a split second.
I brought my hand to my side quickly, and we both turned away. He sidestepped to the sink and busied himself with rinsing his plate. I glanced over at him a second later and saw him washing off the little syrupy spot on his cheek.
A blush rose into my own face. God his lips were soft....
He coughed a little. "Well, I have to go pick something up at the store...I'll be right back."
I turned around, hiding my face as best I could without seeming rude, and said, "Okay." I hoped he didn't notice my extra-pink cheeks.
He nodded and left the room. The front door opened and closed a little while later.
I sighed and sat down at the table again. That feeling of something bothering me was returning, and I still didn't know what it was. I felt unresolved, somehow. Although Trowa had returned, and I had felt better for a while, there was just....
We didn't talk very much. Maybe that was it. That day I had helped him take a bath was the only time he talked about what had happened and how he had felt. I hadn't told him a thing of what went on with me during the time he was there - except for how I had gotten him out, that is. I hadn't even told him about Duo.
I crinkled my nose. I still blamed Duo for making me feel so strange. It was because of him that I kept thinking those unnatural thoughts about Trowa. That was the barrier that prevented me and Trowa from being as close as we used to be.
Frowning, I stood and walked out of the kitchen. I marched up the stairs and into the doorway of Trowa's room. Okay, Quatre...think about Trowa normally. I looked around his room, breathing in the unique Trowa scent that perfumed it. I told myself that this was a person who was my friend. My friend, and nothing more.
Cautiously, I ventured over to the bed, telling myself that if Trowa ever caught me, he'd think I was thoroughly insane. I kept my ears alert to the sound of the front door opening as I sat on the bed and ran my hand over the rumpled covers. I lay down slowly, burying one side of my face into a pillow and breathing in the aroma deeply.
Your friend, Quatre...he's just your friend....
I closed my eyes in relaxation as the sweetness of Trowa filled my lungs.
~
When I opened my eyes, the light was dim, and after a few seconds I realized where I was - still on Trowa's bed. I awoke fully, immediately noticing that things were different. I must have fallen asleep....
I was about to sit up when I saw him - sitting on the foot of the bed, his back to me, his head bent forward slightly. Fear gripped me - Trowa had come back and found me. What would he do? What would he think of me asleep on his bed?
I closed my eyes and pretended to still be asleep. When I didn't hear movement or noise of any kind, I slid one eyelid open just far enough that I could see him but still appear asleep. His shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh as he moved something around in his fingers. After a minute, he turned to look at me. I shut my eye immediately.
Next, I heard him stand and walk around. A door closed. My eyelid slid open again. Not finding him anywhere in the room, I saw the time as being a good one to escape. I hopped off the bed and dashed out of the room.
I stopped running when I came to the room where I kept all my music and my violin. I shut the door behind me and sat by the window.
I sighed and scolded myself.
"Quatre, what were you thinking when you went in there?"
You were trying to convince yourself that Trowa was just your friend.
"And how was going into his room supposed to help?"
Maybe if...I don't know....
"And what was that all about? Falling asleep on his bed? Why were you lying down on his bed anyway?"
...I don't know....
"I'm never going to think of an excuse for this one."
Tell him the truth.
"What truth? That I wanted to sleep on his bed because he's just my friend? That sounds strange."
....
I heard a soft knock on the door, and my heart jumped.
"Quatre?"
I cleared my throat. "Yes?"
"Um...can I come in?"
"Yes."
Trowa opened the door and poked his head in. "I hate to ask you to do something after...uh...you just woke up, but do you think you could help me out?"
I nodded. Good. We'd just pretend the whole thing never happened. "Sure." I stood and walked over to the door, stepping through it and into the hall.
I swallowed once I saw he had removed his shirt. He held something in his hand.
He shuffled his feet a little before presenting me with what he was holding. It was a small tube of cream, and further examination revealed it to be another type of pain reliever. I looked up at him curiously.
"Do you think you could...? My hands still aren't really strong enough."
I nodded. "Sure."
He turned and started walking toward his room, and I followed a few meters behind. When we entered his room, he sat timidly on the foot of his bed and glanced at me silently. I stood a short distance from the bed for a minute, thinking.
"Um...where?" I asked quietly, still feeling a little odd around him. He gestured to his elbows, shoulders, and hands.
I nodded and squeezed the tube. I licked my lips in thought before climbing onto the bed and placing myself behind him and placing my hand on his shoulder.
He gasped. "Cold...!"
"Sorry!" I rubbed my hands together to warm the lotion up before replacing them on his skin.
I thought I was going to shiver at the surprising softness of him. He seemed to have healed extremely well in the short time he had been in my house. His skin had lost all of its rough appearance and texture, and the bruises had almost disappeared completely. Although scars still interrupted the smoothness, he still looked extremely....
I cleared my throat and concentrated on rubbing his shoulders. After a minute, I felt the tenseness in his muscles be released through my fingers. I continued on to his elbows a little while later, moving to sit on his right side, then his left. I looked up at him and saw his eyes were closed.
I bit my lip to keep my concentration.
As I moved down to his hands and fingers, he let out a breathy sigh. I continued to massage his hand, glancing up occasionally at his contented face. It was good to see his cheeks relaxed, his lips slightly parted, and his eyelids at ease. Most of the time I was around him, he was quite the opposite - closed, tight, and uneasy.
A heavy, barely audible breath from him startled me. I moved to his other hand and stroked his palm, running my fingers down his. He opened his hand to me before curling his thumb toward my touch. My gaze never left his eyes as they slowly opened and returned my look. We stopped movement altogether for a brief moment.
I was the first to look away. "Is that good..?" I asked quietly.
He nodded. "Yes. Very."
I let his hand out of mine and stood. "Well...um...."
"Are you leaving?" he asked, a strange hint of sadness in his voice.
"If you need me to stay - "
"Well, actually, I'd like you to stay. I think we need to talk...."
I froze as my heart pounded. "About what?" I asked cautiously.
He motioned for me to sit next to him. I obeyed.
He fidgeted a little. "Quatre, is something bothering you?"
I acted my most innocent. I'd found I was good at that.... "No, I just want you to - "
"There's something. I know there is." He turned to face me. "...You've noticed there's something...."
I sighed shallowly. "...Different?"
"Yes. Between...."
"Us." I blushed a little. The word, though short and normal, sounded bizarre and foreign in my mouth.
He nodded. "There's something missing.... We're not like we used to be. We barely even talk any more." He sounded so sad....
I lowered my head. So he'd noticed too. "Yeah."
"I don't know what happened in your life while I was gone, but I'd like to know. I miss you, even though you're right next to me. Do you remember when we used to talk until we fell asleep? How you used to make me laugh?"
"Yes...."
His voice had become a whisper. "Where are you, Quatre? As much as I love how much you've done for me, I just keep wishing I could have a little more. I need just a little more...."
I didn't speak. What could I say to him?
He looked at the blankets on the bed and partially distracted himself by tracing his fingers along the patterns. "I want someone again. Someone to talk to. A friend. Someone to play flute-violin duets with. Someone to take my mind away from what I remember and how I feel. ...I want you back."
My arm twitched, but my mind quickly regained control.
"...At the Center, the first day we were there, Relena came to take Heero with her. He recently told me he's doing much better - she helped him a lot. Sally came to take Wufei with her. Apparently he's doing better than he's ever been. And Hilde came to take Duo with her. Duo's extremely satisfied and - "
The mood was completely shattered at Duo's name. I stared in disbelief.
"Wait. Duo and Hilde...?"
He looked at me curiously. "Yes. They were dating for a while, but broke up before his capture. They got back togeth - "
"No no no."
He cocked his head. "No? That's what he told me...."
I clenched my teeth. "But he. Right before. Before he was caught." I scratched my head in frustration.
He looked at me with concerned interest. "What?"
I shook my head. "Nothing."
He touched my hand gently. "No...it's something...."
I looked away again. I heard him move closer to me, and an arm was placed delicately across my back, his hand resting on my shoulder. "Please...I want to know."
After some thought, I consented. He listened intently, nodding occasionally, as I told him about what Duo had done and what he had told me the night of his capture. Of course, I paid close attention not to speak a word of how I had felt - how my body reacted, anyway. I wasn't going to let him make any assumptions about me....
I stopped speaking at last, my eyes unfocused and seeing the past again. I was hauled back to the present only when I felt the silky touch of fingers brush my cheek. I breathed in deeply, not able to resist closing my eyes and resting my head on his shoulder. His shirt was soft.
"I'm sorry, Quatre," he said softly, a hint of anger layered under his voice. "I had no idea.... I don't know why he'd...." He stopped from a lack of words. "He shouldn't have. He told me he had always been with Hilde." He rubbed his lips together. "If I had known what he did to you, I would have gotten on his case at the Center or - "
I shook my head. "No...don't worry about it." I pushed it out of my mind. "...I should be the one listening to you. There must still be things you've been wanting to tell me."
"Shh...no, if it's still bothering you - "
"No, we can talk about it later. You talk to me now."
He accepted hesitantly, speaking in a quiet voice. "If it's okay with you.... It was nice to tell you about what happened, before. If you wouldn't mind, there is more."
I slid off the bed and stepped closer to the headboard. "Come. Tell Quatre your troubles." I climbed on the bed again and leaned against the pillows. Seeing my expressions and actions, he smiled a little, crawling over to me and sitting close.
He jumped immediately into what seemed to be filling him with the most pain - I finally realized how much he had wanted to talk and scolded myself for being so cold. The reason he hadn't been talking to me was because I gave him the impression I didn't want him to....
I listened quietly as he told me all about the anger, the pain, the simple need he felt for sleep and food, the feelings of helplessness, submission, obedience, sadness, worthlessness, and loneliness. After what must have been hours of tear-stained words and memories, he leaned his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes.
"Sometimes my whole body aches from everything. Although I want to, I can't sleep at night. It hurts too much to sleep - I feel like someone will be there, still watching me, still waiting to jab me with their precious sticks and clubs. And when I wake up, I can still hear the voices mocking me. They still say I'm 'just a dirty bastard, crying for his' - " He stopped abruptly and looked at me.
"Go on," I said softly.
He licked his lips and looked down at his tummy. "You," he whispered. "I...cried for you."
For me?
He stopped for a few seconds before continuing quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to give them your name if I did. That's the last thing I wanted. I just couldn't help myself...or something...." He glanced at me again. "I hope you don't think I'm...you know...."
I shook my head quickly.
"They thought I was.... That's what they said. 'Crying for his little lover boy.' " He bit his lip. "I'm sorry. I - "
"Shh...it's okay. Don't worry about it." I tried to sound calm, but that was proving to be difficult. Me, Trowa's little lover boy? God,I wish.... No. No, I didn't think that....
I noticed him blush, much to my intrigue and surprise. I had never seen Trowa blush in the many years I had known him.
He suddenly changed the subject back to other methods he had been subjected to while in prison.
---
Dash - Part Eight
That night, before going to bed, Trowa coughed lightly and asked me,
"...Would you...um...sleep with me?" He spoke almost inaudibly, as if afraid of the answer or reaction he would receive. "I mean...just in the same room or something. Somewhere nearby? ...I'd feel a lot safer if I had you around. ...I might even be able to stay asleep all night...."
He refused to let his eyes meet mine during his explanation, looking at the ground, the walls, my feet. But, when I didn't reply, he glanced up cautiously, and our gazes locked for an instant.
"Sure," I said softly, seeing the forlorn expression under the greenness of his irises.
He smiled timidly and murmured a "thank you."
I set up a little bed for myself on the floor, and, after finding a semi-comfortable spot, fell asleep. However, I found myself awakened suddenly by the sound of Trowa crying out. I quickly turned on the lamp and saw him sitting, breathing quickly, his eyes frightened, the sheets twisted around his ankles.
I scrambled to sit next to him on the bed while he apologized repeatedly for waking me up.
"Shh...shh..." I cooed as I took him into my arms. "It's okay...."
He attempted to tell his dream in broken phrases and words, though they barely came out between his gulping breaths. "They. Rope. Feet. Water. Couldn't breathe - "
"Shh...it's all right...I'm here...nothing's going to happen to you...."
He took in a deep breath and rested his head on my chest. "Don't let them. Don't let them get me."
"Hush.... No one's going to get you." I began rocking him gently. "I won't let anyone get you. You're safe...it's okay."
"But...so cold." He shivered and curled up. "Hurt. Thought I would die. So scared."
I brought him up onto my lap, bringing him closer to me to help him warm up, my arms tightly wrapped around his quaking body. "I've got you...it's all right...just relax.... There's no water, no rope, no 'they.' Just me. Just Quatre. I'm not going to hurt you. No one's going to hurt you."
"Cold."
I tucked his head under my chin and leaned back against the pillows. "Shh...." I pulled the blankets over his shoulders. "Shh...."
He said no more. He was still trying to slow down his breathing. I continued to rock him and whisper little sounds of comfort. His heaving chest eventually slowed down to normal. My fingers ran across his pale cheek, and he closed his eyes.
With a final sigh, his breaths slowed even more. He stopped shivering, and I felt him gradually relaxing. A small snore told me he had fallen asleep once again.
I watched him sleep, upset with myself for not knowing about his nightmares earlier. Had he woken up like this every night since he had come to me? And I hadn't noticed? It must have been terrible for him...to have no one around to comfort him at all. How could I have been so blind? I never even asked him if he slept well....
I stroked his hair gently with my fingers, its softness strangely reassuring to me. It made me feel better. I yawned and smiled, his warmth making me sleepy again. I watched him for a few minutes more before being able to drift off as well.
The nights continued that way for the next few weeks - whether it was three or four, I couldn't tell. Time passed too quickly for me. Trowa's nightmares became less frequent, and soon we could both enjoy a night of silent sleep. However, my bed still went unused. Trowa confessed he was a little nervous about sleeping by himself again, so I agreed to continue sharing a bed with him.
He continued to improve physically, as well. Pill bottles were left forgotten in drawers, eating was no longer difficult, and he could dash up stairs before you were able to speak a word. He ran up and down the stairs quite often - well, as often as he could find an excuse, that is - since, I think, he was quite proud of his recovery.
I, on the other hand, though thrilled with his accomplishments, was feeling a little down. The feeling of something wrong just would not leave me alone. I did a pretty good job of hiding it from both Trowa and myself, though. ...Until one night....
"Quatre! Quatre, wake up!"
Trowa's voice jerked me from my world of darkness as I opened my eyes and sat up quickly. My head was spinning and felt like it was being squeezed. My lungs could not grasp enough air - I heaved in breaths and forced them out. My mouth felt dry and my throat stuck.
"Quatre, are you okay?"
I looked at Trowa and had to will myself to speak. "Okay. Yeah." I shook my head. "Ow. What's going on?"
"You were dreaming."
Dreaming. Running. Hot. Cold. Dark. "Dreaming. Bad?" I squeezed my eyes shut while my stomach felt like it was being twisted.
He nodded, his eyebrows wrinkled in concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again.
"I...don't know...."
He scooted himself closer and wrapped his arms around me in a gentle hug. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know," I said again.
He touched my neck lightly. I flinched a little and tried to draw in a deep breath. "Shh...it's all right. Shh...."
"...Did I scream?"
He brushed some damp hair away from where it hung in my eyes. "...Yes...." The pain was obvious in his voice - he was worried.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean...to frighten you." I couldn't get my breathing under control.
" 's fine," he whispered back. "Shh...relax. It'll help."
I nodded and shut my eyes again. "Okay."
He held my face gently in his cupped hand, stroking the space just below my ear with his thumb. He leaned back slightly to rest his back against the pillows, and my head moved down to his chest.
He cleared his throat. "What were you dreaming about? "
"I...don't remember," I said quietly. My ear had quickly located his heart, and the fast, gentle beat vibrated against me. I sighed, focusing completely on the peaceful rhythm. My lungs began to work again. My own heart slowed to his.
He said something else just then, but I didn't hear it. My eyes were closed, and all sound other than the one echoing from his chest had fuzzed out into the background. I thought sleepily as I listened. There's...something...I have...to do.
...Tomorrow. For now, I'll just stay...right...here.
I placed one hand on his chest and let the other one fall around his waist. The thuds beneath my ear calmed me, and I fell asleep a few minutes later.
~
I woke up late the next morning. My mind being a little groggy, it took me a minute to realize why I couldn't get off the bed - Trowa's arms were still around me. When I looked up, I noticed he was still asleep. His head was cocked slightly to the side and down. His lips were straight except for the slight upturn at the corners - an upturn so small, it was nearly unnoticeable. Not wanting to disturb him - and enjoying his cozy hug as well, - I stayed curled up by his side until he awoke, which was about half an hour later.
I heard him rustle and looked up. He noticed me and smiled warmly. I smiled back.
He patted down my hair and unhurriedly released me from his grasp, asking sleepily, "Want me to make breakfast today?"
I nodded. "Yes, thank you."
"No problem. You just stay and rest. I'll call you when it's ready." He yawned, slid off the bed, grabbed his clothes, and shuffled away to the bathroom to change. I sprawled out on the bed, stomach down, and buried my face in the pillows. Ah, they smelled nice.... Well, Trowa's smelled the nicest. His scent was always clean, but...comfortable. Sort of the way a blanket you've had since you were a kid always smells just right. ...Almost a cuddly smell or something.... It was hard to describe, actually. I just knew that I liked it.
I breathed the scent of the pillow for another few minutes. But, eventually, I pried myself off the bed and went to change as well.
As I noticed myself in the mirror, I put my hands on my hips and scolded what I saw.
Eyeing my hair especially, I told myself, "Quatre, you need to stop looking like you just got a bad case of static electricity." Trowa must think you're one of those "secret slobs."
I frowned and decided to take a shower.
~
Breakfast was unusually quiet. Trowa and I exchanged a few gazes and a few words, but contact between us was, otherwise, almost non-existent. Although, I caught him looking at me frequently, concern still wrinkled across his eyebrows.
As we finished, I cleared my throat. He looked up at me intently, perhaps hoping I would reassure him that I was fine.
I licked my lips and said quietly, "Trowa, I'm going to do something today, and you have to promise something."
He looked a little puzzled, but replied, "Sure. Anything."
"I'll be in the room upstairs - the one where I keep all my music - and I'll be in there for a long time. You have to promise not to come into or near there until I come out."
He raised an eyebrow, obviously curious, but figuring he shouldn't ask. He nodded. "Okay."
I smiled. "Good."
He hesitated a moment before asking, "You're...sure you're all right?"
"I will be if I finish what I need to get done today."
"Okay. If you're sure...."
"I am."
He studied me for a second before nodding in approval.
I washed the dishes while Trowa rushed upstairs. I ascended the stairs a little while later, heading straight for the room I planned on locking myself in for a good portion of the day. I opened the door and, much to my surprise, found Trowa searching through a drawer in the desk where I kept most of my music.
"A-hm."
He turned and looked at me, straightening immediately. "Just...getting my flute and some music?" He grabbed his flute from the cabinet. "I wanted to practice a piece I'd been trying, but I can't seem to find it."
"Check the library. There might be a few music books in there."
He nodded and looked around the room. "Right. Thanks. I'll leave you alone, now." He hurried out of the room and down the hall.
I shut the door behind him and locked it. Walking over to the window, I began. Now....
"Quatre, what's wrong?" I asked myself.
You know what's wrong.
"If I knew what was wrong, I wouldn't be asking."
What did you dream last night?
"I don't know."
Think.
"But I don't remember it."
Remember it. Do you even want to remember it?
"I do."
Think, first, about something related to it.
"How do I do that if I don't even know what it's about?"
Okay, then think about when you feel happy. Think about when you feel sad. It's a start, at least.
"But I don't know why I feel sad."
When, not why.
"I don't know when I feel sad either."
Then when do you feel happy?
"At night."
Why?
"I don't know. Because I can sleep."
Why?
"Because that's what people do at night."
Why are you happy at night?
"Because I can sleep."
No. Why are you happy at night?
"Sleep."
Try again.
"I get tired during the day, so being able to sleep is nice."
What wears you out?
"I don't know."
Yes, you do.
"No, I don't."
Stop struggling.
The conversation with myself continued much like that for a long time. After awhile of getting absolutely nowhere, I was beginning to become a little frustrated. My stomach growled a little as well, wanting something to fill it.
"Don't eat until you figure it out, Quatre."
It's right in front of you.
"I don't know what it is, though."
What are you trying to find out?
"What's bothering me and why."
You know what, and you know why.
"No, I don't."
Yes you do.
"How can you be so sure?"
How can you be so sure? Oh, nevermind. Go play your violin or something. Think about it again in a little while.
I sighed and obeyed, walking over to my violin and removing it from its case. I marched over to the desk and opened the third drawer from the top - the drawer I used for my slow music. I shuffled through a few pieces before one caught my eye. I removed it and studied the notes. It didn't look that familiar....
I tucked the violin under my chin and set the bow to its strings. The music was difficult, and I struggled through it the first few times. It was slow most of the time, but it sounded upset, disturbed. At some parts, it suddenly sped up in a tone of desperation. I found it...well, intriguing would be one way to describe it. Almost capturing. The fourth time through the notes, I noticed a few of the words scrawled beneath them, but, not seeing enough, couldn't tell what the song was about.
After my sixth try, I sat on the floor and read them straight through, curiosity finally compelling me. My lips moved to form the words while I squinted at the small print.
"Sitting next to me, I feel the heat of you. Sitting next to me, we are cold. I want to know you, but do you? We are brave, but neither of us bold. If I love you, will you love me? I want to feel your touch. Can't you see? I want you so much."
The words struck me immediately. I wasn't sure why. I felt an odd compassion for the composer.
"You rest your head, you fall asleep. I lie in bed, feel my skin creep. I want to know the depth of your eyes. I don't want to drown in all these lies. I want to silence all my cries. My cries for you. Tell me. If I loved you, what would you do? Would you let me see? Realize you?"
I continued reading, seized.
"Let me know. May I touch you? I don't want to let you go. May I kiss you? Since I met you, I've wanted to do so. Or should I forget it? I am just a friend to you. Our flame can not be lit. I just don't know what to do. But I can wait. You are my life. You are everything. I must wait. I love you. I cannot let you go. I want you. Let me tell you so."
And that was all.
I sighed, the words of the song depressing me a little. It was a little short, perhaps, but whoever had written it.... He sounded lonely, upset....
Just like me.
"I'm so lonely."/I Duo.
"Have you ever felt like that?"
"Yes. ... I was in love." Wufei.
"I...cried for you. ... They said, 'Crying for his little lover boy.' " Trowa.
Cries. I skimmed the words of the song again.
"I want to silence all my cries. My cries for you." Trowa....
"If I love you, will you love me?" Love. "I love you. I can't let you go. I want you. Let me tell you so." Tell me.
The loneliness - wanting Trowa to hold me. The memory of a fantasy - Trowa's tongue on my skin. The bombing - wanting to see Trowa again. My porch - finding Trowa, having him at last. The bath - touching Trowa's skin, undressing him, a soaked hug. Breakfast - Trowa's lips touching my fingers. Sleepless and slumbering nights - wrapped in Trowa's arms, or him wrapped in mine. The cries, the words, the smiles, the subtle touches, the urges to hold, to comfort. Trowa.... The friendship, and yet something so much more. The hidden desire and love behind his hands. Behind mine. Behind his words. Behind mine. Trowa....
Trowa. Why hadn't I seen it before?
I stared at the words of the song again. Trowa. My eyes closed, and words were born from my voice which sounded extraordinary to my ears. "Trowa, do I...love you?"
Yes! That's it!
I shook my head. "No. No, he's a guy. I'm a guy, too."
It doesn't matter.
"But - "
It doesn't matter.
"...Oh, Trowa...." Do I love you? I don't know....
Yes!
I touched my fingers lightly to my lips and said the words again. "I love you...Trowa."
Yes! Yes!
I shivered, the adrenaline beginning to control me. "I love you, Trowa."
Yes! Yes! Yes!
"Oh, God, do I love you, Trowa! What was wrong with me?"
You didn't want to see it.
"Trowa, I love you so much...."
Go tell him!
I stopped immediately. "No."
Why not?
"He'll think I'm crazy."
You're an idiot.
I looked at the song again, re-reading the words. "Oh, God.... Trowa. Trowa." His name spilled out of my mouth as if it had been long needing to overflow. "I love you."
Go get him.
I stood shakily to put the song away, flipping the last page over absent-mindedly, a little fluttery from my precious realization.
I froze in my footsteps as the letters on the page reached my eyes. There, on the back, in the same scribbled handwriting as the song had been in, lay the words that nearly made me fall over in shock.
"Impossible Love"
by Trowa Barton
---
Dash - Part Nine
I stared. "Impossible Love" by Trowa Barton. So Trowa loved someone....
"Is it me?"
Of course it's you.
"No it's not. And if it is, the song is called 'Impossible Love,' anyway."
Your point?
"Note the word 'impossible.' In other words, not workable."
He wants you. He just thinks you don't want him.
"But I do want him!"
So tell him.
"I can't. How do I know he won't hate me?"
Maybe because he loves you...?
"The song is for someone else."
It talks about crying for someone. Who does he cry for during his nightmares?
"...Me...."
Who did he cry for while imprisoned by the Drachens?
"...Me...."
See? Come on. You want to tell him.
I shook my head. "No."
Just who did you dream about last night, Quatre?
"But that was a bad dream. It was a nightmare."
What made it a nightmare? Trowa telling you he was leaving? You trying to run after him but never reaching him?
"Shut up. Leave me alone. ...I'm not telling him."
Yes you are. Tell him or he might leave for real....
"He'll leave if I tell him. He'll think I'm - "
He loves you. The song is proof.
"But...well, what if he met some girl at the Center? Maybe that's who the song is about."
Then why would he have left to come see you? Go tell him how you feel about him.
I glanced down at the song again. "How?"
'I love you,' might be a good way.
"Too simple."
Cover yourself with chocolate syrup, write 'I Love You, Trowa' on your stomach with whipped cream, and let him lick it off you.
"No!"
Well, keep it in mind.
"...Hn."
Don't worry. You'll think of something. Just say it however feels right.
I took in a deep breath. "Okay. I can do this." I ran my fingers through my hair, making sure it was smooth. I checked my reflection in the glossy surface of the back of my violin. "Trowa, I love you. ...No, that sounds wrong."
Don't practice. Just say it. You've been putting it off long enough.
I folded Trowa's song and stuck it in my pocket. Nodding once, I closed my eyes briefly before marching to the door and opening it.
Go on.
"I'm stuck. My legs won't move."
Oh, for....
I rested my quaking hands on the door frame and shoved my feet forward. I'd never felt so nervous in my life. I was amazed I hadn't already passed out.
Why was it so hard for me? It seemed like such a simple thing - only three words to be uttered. But the reaction...what would Trowa say in return? Would he say he loves me, too? He just wants to be my friend? He thinks I'm a sick pervert? ...Nothing...?
I moved down the hall without really knowing where I was going. I didn't even know where Trowa was. I felt like my heart was going to pound right out of my chest. My whole body was tingling and fluttering with anticipation and adrenaline.
Unfortunately, I found him quickly. He was lying down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, a small, closed box on his tummy. Once again, I found myself stuck, unable to pass through the doorway.
He noticed me soon after I stopped at his door. He picked up the box, sat up, and scooted over to the edge of his bed.
"Quatre?" He sounded concerned. I couldn't blame him - I must have looked pretty shaken. "Quatre, are you all right?"
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. He looked at me curiously for a minute while I stood, rigid, open-mouthed, expression frozen, in the middle of his doorway. He stood and approached me cautiously.
"I - I'm fine," I stuttered. "Really."
He looked straight into my eyes, searching for something within them. I couldn't break the gaze that quickly formed. His eyes were deep, like a pool of enchanted forest. A forest so thick and so rich that it was easy to get lost, but so beautiful you would never want to leave anyway. I allowed myself to get lost for the first time.
He smiled a little and touched my cheek for an instant. "Well, then if you're really okay, there's something I have to give you."
I cocked my head as he presented the box in an open palm.
"What is it?"
"Why don't you see for yourself?"
I eyed him and plucked the box out of his palm. His smile widened a tiny bit more. I opened the lid and peered inside.
"...Trowa...?" I looked at him a little curiously. Maybe he did love me....
He shuffled his feet and glanced away. "...I don't know how often guys wear bracelets, but...."
I picked up the bracelet inside the box. It was made of small, round, slightly cloudy-white stones.
"It's made of quartz, which symbolizes inner strength," he explained quietly.
I smiled. "You think I have inner strength?"
"I know you do."
I fingered the stones gently. It was the most beautiful gift I had ever received.
"Would you mind if I put it on you?" he asked shyly.
"Of course not...." I handed it to him, and he bent forward over my wrist to clip it on. I leaned toward him so my mouth was directly next to his ear. It took almost all of my energy to keep myself from shaking as I whispered, "Thank you. It's beautiful."
I heard him gulp and exhale unsteadily. "...Then it's worthy of you," he whispered back.
My own breathing was beginning to become irregular. My knees felt as if they were about to give out under my fluttering stomach and pounding heart. I lowered my voice even more. "Then...you think I am beautiful?"
He hesitated. "I know you are. You're beautiful and gentle and kind...."
Say it, Quatre! Say it now!
But before I could, he straightened up again, having accomplished putting the bracelet on some time ago. He looked at a few of the decorations on the walls.
"Wait," I said.
He looked at me, timidly. "M-hm?"
I took a step forward. "Did you ever find that song you were looking for?"
He froze. "No."
I pulled the folded sheets out of my pocket and handed them to him. "Is this it?"
He unfolded the paper and glanced at the music. "...Yes."
I nodded. "It's quite a nice song. ...Who is it about...?" I took another step.
"It's about...um...."
"Yes?" I stood directly in front of him and stared into his uneasy eyes.
"Uh...."
I gently placed the tips of my fingers on his shoulder and let them slide down a short distance. "If you love someone, I'd like to know who it is.... Maybe I can help...."
He touched my forearm lightly before grasping it and moving it away. "Quatre...?" He studied me. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"
"Just fine," I smiled. "...As long as you're around."
He closed his eyes in an attempt to regain control. "Quatre, please don't say things like that. You don't know...what it does to me." A blush rose in his cheeks.
I leaned forward so my lips were next to his ear once again. "I know exactly what it does to you. I feel it too."
He made a small noise of surprise. "You - "
He held is breath as I kissed his neck lightly.
"Quatre - "
"Shh...." I slid my hands up his chest.
I could feel him struggling for air.
"...I love you, Trowa."
It felt like he melted into me as soon as I had said those words. He wrapped his arms around me and held on so tightly I could feel his heart pounding through our clothes. "Quatre...." He paused to kiss my ear. "Quatre, I love you.... I've been wanting this for so long. ...I love you, I love you, I love you...." He kissed my neck, and shivers flew down my spine.
I nuzzled against him, my arms around his shoulders, my face buried in his turtleneck. "I'm sorry for not noticing it sooner. I love you, and I didn't even let myself see it. ...I accepted it today. It was too powerful to ignore any longer."
He straightened and looked into my eyes, his own filled with so much passion I thought I'd have to lean against something to keep me on my feet. "And you're sure you're okay with it?" he asked softly.
"With loving you?" I kissed his lower lip. "Positive. I've never felt like this before. ...I don't think I'll ever feel like this about anyone again."
He closed his eyes and kissed my lips, then whispered against them, "I won't argue with that...."
My hands slid down his sides, only stopping when they reached his hips, where they rested snugly. His breaths were heavy against my cheek as I whispered words of my affections.
He smiled. "Am I dreaming?"
"I don't think we would be dreaming the same dream."
"It's just so...it's hard to believe. I never thought that anyone really loved me." He spoke quietly, his expression and voice tinted with loneliness. "I mean...Catherine...well, she's like a sister to me, but...beyond that, there was no one." He smiled sadly. "When I first fell in love with you, I tried to stop myself. I thought I knew you would never return any kind of those feelings, and the longer it went on, the worse I'd feel. It hurt so much, but I just couldn't get you out of my mind. You were always with me somehow...."
I smiled a little, touched by his confession. "I hope I can make up for all the pain I've caused you...."
He shook his head. "You've already washed it all away."
I stepped forward, causing him to step back - towards the bed. "You're sure...?" I licked under his ear lightly. "There's nothing you want me to do to make up for it...?"
Other than his rugged breathing, he was completely frozen. "Quatre - ?"
I grinned. "Just kidding."
He nuzzled my neck. "You sure?"
I laughed a little, but said nothing in return.
~
Life from that day on was extremely different. Although we still slept in the same bed - though chastely - we awoke to warm sunlight, and the first thing we did when we saw each other was to engage in a set of light kisses. Breakfast was eaten from each others' plates, forks, or fingers. If we happened to get food on our faces, napkins were no longer a remedy, as it was usually kissed off. Mornings were spent playing music or reading nonsensical stories to each other. Lunch was eaten in the same manner as breakfast, as was dinner - after which we usually curled up on the sofa together to watch bad movies with terrible special effects. They always amused us the most. Once the movie was over, and we had climbed into bed again, we fell asleep wrapped in each others' arms. The outside world became nearly unknown to us, and only we existed together.
One afternoon, after lunch, as I was searching for marshmallows to put in my hot cocoa, Trowa unfolded the newspaper. A few seconds later, I heard him make a small noise of excitement.
"What?"
He re-folded it and handed it to me. "Read."
I took the paper and unfolded it again. I glanced up at him and found him with a huge grin on his face. I started to read the headlines. A smile crept upon my lips as well as I saw what he was talking about: Defeat of Drachens.
"No wonder I haven't heard about them lately...."
He laughed. "Well, they had it coming to them!"
I kept reading and found that the Drachens had been pushed out of control by a group of people who simultaneously took over each of their stations, killing many and injuring even more.
"Hn. Enough people finally got enough nerve to do something. Too bad no one did that sooner," I commented to myself, setting the paper down again.
Trowa stood up. "Can we celebrate?" The expression on his face was obviously one of excitement.
I grinned and strolled up to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Got anything in mind?"
He eyed my hand before looking at me innocently. "Not especially...."
I slipped my other hand under his shirt. "What do you feel up to?"
"Oh...anything...." He grabbed me by the waist and brought me closer to him.
"Want to stay up late tonight?"
He smiled. "Sounds good to me."
Warnings: still a little angsty, but there's more shonen-ai and sap!
Dash - Part Seven
Trowa improved amazingly over the next two weeks. With the help of his pain relievers (which I learned had come from the Victims of Torture Center that he and the others had stayed at - they were the ones who owned the white vans) and my assistance, his hands began to regain their usefulness. He was soon able to feed, dress, and bathe himself - although it wasn't very effective most of the time.
He sat next to me at the table during breakfast. I had cut his pancake into little triangles for him after he had doused it with syrup. He lifted his fork shakily and poked at the food on his plate. I watched him struggle with it for a minute before he looked up at me.
"This isn't working...."
I smiled slightly. "You need to get your muscles back to normal, though...you have to use them to warm them up again."
He frowned. "I know." He stared at the pancake and placed his fork right above it, watching intently, as if it was about to move, then stabbed it quickly. He smiled in victory as he brought the full fork to his mouth.
He ate the rest of his pancake in the same manner, finishing within about fifteen minutes. As he stood to carry his plate to the sink, I stopped him.
"Wait."
"Hm?" He looked at me as if he had done something wrong and didn't know it.
I stood and stepped closer, studying his cheek. "You have some...syrup...." I reached up and touched my finger to his cheek in an attempt to get the sticky stuff off.
He looked a little uneasy, as he usually did when I was around him. It was strange that he had never seemed to get used to it...but I figured it must have been what happened to him. Who wouldn't be uncomfortable being so close to someone after what he had been through?
His eyes darted to where my finger was, and he said, "I can get it...."
"No, I got it. There's just a little."
He stepped back and turned his head, but I - being unprepared - didn't move, and I found my finger slightly between his lips for a split second.
I brought my hand to my side quickly, and we both turned away. He sidestepped to the sink and busied himself with rinsing his plate. I glanced over at him a second later and saw him washing off the little syrupy spot on his cheek.
A blush rose into my own face. God his lips were soft....
He coughed a little. "Well, I have to go pick something up at the store...I'll be right back."
I turned around, hiding my face as best I could without seeming rude, and said, "Okay." I hoped he didn't notice my extra-pink cheeks.
He nodded and left the room. The front door opened and closed a little while later.
I sighed and sat down at the table again. That feeling of something bothering me was returning, and I still didn't know what it was. I felt unresolved, somehow. Although Trowa had returned, and I had felt better for a while, there was just....
We didn't talk very much. Maybe that was it. That day I had helped him take a bath was the only time he talked about what had happened and how he had felt. I hadn't told him a thing of what went on with me during the time he was there - except for how I had gotten him out, that is. I hadn't even told him about Duo.
I crinkled my nose. I still blamed Duo for making me feel so strange. It was because of him that I kept thinking those unnatural thoughts about Trowa. That was the barrier that prevented me and Trowa from being as close as we used to be.
Frowning, I stood and walked out of the kitchen. I marched up the stairs and into the doorway of Trowa's room. Okay, Quatre...think about Trowa normally. I looked around his room, breathing in the unique Trowa scent that perfumed it. I told myself that this was a person who was my friend. My friend, and nothing more.
Cautiously, I ventured over to the bed, telling myself that if Trowa ever caught me, he'd think I was thoroughly insane. I kept my ears alert to the sound of the front door opening as I sat on the bed and ran my hand over the rumpled covers. I lay down slowly, burying one side of my face into a pillow and breathing in the aroma deeply.
Your friend, Quatre...he's just your friend....
I closed my eyes in relaxation as the sweetness of Trowa filled my lungs.
~
When I opened my eyes, the light was dim, and after a few seconds I realized where I was - still on Trowa's bed. I awoke fully, immediately noticing that things were different. I must have fallen asleep....
I was about to sit up when I saw him - sitting on the foot of the bed, his back to me, his head bent forward slightly. Fear gripped me - Trowa had come back and found me. What would he do? What would he think of me asleep on his bed?
I closed my eyes and pretended to still be asleep. When I didn't hear movement or noise of any kind, I slid one eyelid open just far enough that I could see him but still appear asleep. His shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh as he moved something around in his fingers. After a minute, he turned to look at me. I shut my eye immediately.
Next, I heard him stand and walk around. A door closed. My eyelid slid open again. Not finding him anywhere in the room, I saw the time as being a good one to escape. I hopped off the bed and dashed out of the room.
I stopped running when I came to the room where I kept all my music and my violin. I shut the door behind me and sat by the window.
I sighed and scolded myself.
"Quatre, what were you thinking when you went in there?"
You were trying to convince yourself that Trowa was just your friend.
"And how was going into his room supposed to help?"
Maybe if...I don't know....
"And what was that all about? Falling asleep on his bed? Why were you lying down on his bed anyway?"
...I don't know....
"I'm never going to think of an excuse for this one."
Tell him the truth.
"What truth? That I wanted to sleep on his bed because he's just my friend? That sounds strange."
....
I heard a soft knock on the door, and my heart jumped.
"Quatre?"
I cleared my throat. "Yes?"
"Um...can I come in?"
"Yes."
Trowa opened the door and poked his head in. "I hate to ask you to do something after...uh...you just woke up, but do you think you could help me out?"
I nodded. Good. We'd just pretend the whole thing never happened. "Sure." I stood and walked over to the door, stepping through it and into the hall.
I swallowed once I saw he had removed his shirt. He held something in his hand.
He shuffled his feet a little before presenting me with what he was holding. It was a small tube of cream, and further examination revealed it to be another type of pain reliever. I looked up at him curiously.
"Do you think you could...? My hands still aren't really strong enough."
I nodded. "Sure."
He turned and started walking toward his room, and I followed a few meters behind. When we entered his room, he sat timidly on the foot of his bed and glanced at me silently. I stood a short distance from the bed for a minute, thinking.
"Um...where?" I asked quietly, still feeling a little odd around him. He gestured to his elbows, shoulders, and hands.
I nodded and squeezed the tube. I licked my lips in thought before climbing onto the bed and placing myself behind him and placing my hand on his shoulder.
He gasped. "Cold...!"
"Sorry!" I rubbed my hands together to warm the lotion up before replacing them on his skin.
I thought I was going to shiver at the surprising softness of him. He seemed to have healed extremely well in the short time he had been in my house. His skin had lost all of its rough appearance and texture, and the bruises had almost disappeared completely. Although scars still interrupted the smoothness, he still looked extremely....
I cleared my throat and concentrated on rubbing his shoulders. After a minute, I felt the tenseness in his muscles be released through my fingers. I continued on to his elbows a little while later, moving to sit on his right side, then his left. I looked up at him and saw his eyes were closed.
I bit my lip to keep my concentration.
As I moved down to his hands and fingers, he let out a breathy sigh. I continued to massage his hand, glancing up occasionally at his contented face. It was good to see his cheeks relaxed, his lips slightly parted, and his eyelids at ease. Most of the time I was around him, he was quite the opposite - closed, tight, and uneasy.
A heavy, barely audible breath from him startled me. I moved to his other hand and stroked his palm, running my fingers down his. He opened his hand to me before curling his thumb toward my touch. My gaze never left his eyes as they slowly opened and returned my look. We stopped movement altogether for a brief moment.
I was the first to look away. "Is that good..?" I asked quietly.
He nodded. "Yes. Very."
I let his hand out of mine and stood. "Well...um...."
"Are you leaving?" he asked, a strange hint of sadness in his voice.
"If you need me to stay - "
"Well, actually, I'd like you to stay. I think we need to talk...."
I froze as my heart pounded. "About what?" I asked cautiously.
He motioned for me to sit next to him. I obeyed.
He fidgeted a little. "Quatre, is something bothering you?"
I acted my most innocent. I'd found I was good at that.... "No, I just want you to - "
"There's something. I know there is." He turned to face me. "...You've noticed there's something...."
I sighed shallowly. "...Different?"
"Yes. Between...."
"Us." I blushed a little. The word, though short and normal, sounded bizarre and foreign in my mouth.
He nodded. "There's something missing.... We're not like we used to be. We barely even talk any more." He sounded so sad....
I lowered my head. So he'd noticed too. "Yeah."
"I don't know what happened in your life while I was gone, but I'd like to know. I miss you, even though you're right next to me. Do you remember when we used to talk until we fell asleep? How you used to make me laugh?"
"Yes...."
His voice had become a whisper. "Where are you, Quatre? As much as I love how much you've done for me, I just keep wishing I could have a little more. I need just a little more...."
I didn't speak. What could I say to him?
He looked at the blankets on the bed and partially distracted himself by tracing his fingers along the patterns. "I want someone again. Someone to talk to. A friend. Someone to play flute-violin duets with. Someone to take my mind away from what I remember and how I feel. ...I want you back."
My arm twitched, but my mind quickly regained control.
"...At the Center, the first day we were there, Relena came to take Heero with her. He recently told me he's doing much better - she helped him a lot. Sally came to take Wufei with her. Apparently he's doing better than he's ever been. And Hilde came to take Duo with her. Duo's extremely satisfied and - "
The mood was completely shattered at Duo's name. I stared in disbelief.
"Wait. Duo and Hilde...?"
He looked at me curiously. "Yes. They were dating for a while, but broke up before his capture. They got back togeth - "
"No no no."
He cocked his head. "No? That's what he told me...."
I clenched my teeth. "But he. Right before. Before he was caught." I scratched my head in frustration.
He looked at me with concerned interest. "What?"
I shook my head. "Nothing."
He touched my hand gently. "No...it's something...."
I looked away again. I heard him move closer to me, and an arm was placed delicately across my back, his hand resting on my shoulder. "Please...I want to know."
After some thought, I consented. He listened intently, nodding occasionally, as I told him about what Duo had done and what he had told me the night of his capture. Of course, I paid close attention not to speak a word of how I had felt - how my body reacted, anyway. I wasn't going to let him make any assumptions about me....
I stopped speaking at last, my eyes unfocused and seeing the past again. I was hauled back to the present only when I felt the silky touch of fingers brush my cheek. I breathed in deeply, not able to resist closing my eyes and resting my head on his shoulder. His shirt was soft.
"I'm sorry, Quatre," he said softly, a hint of anger layered under his voice. "I had no idea.... I don't know why he'd...." He stopped from a lack of words. "He shouldn't have. He told me he had always been with Hilde." He rubbed his lips together. "If I had known what he did to you, I would have gotten on his case at the Center or - "
I shook my head. "No...don't worry about it." I pushed it out of my mind. "...I should be the one listening to you. There must still be things you've been wanting to tell me."
"Shh...no, if it's still bothering you - "
"No, we can talk about it later. You talk to me now."
He accepted hesitantly, speaking in a quiet voice. "If it's okay with you.... It was nice to tell you about what happened, before. If you wouldn't mind, there is more."
I slid off the bed and stepped closer to the headboard. "Come. Tell Quatre your troubles." I climbed on the bed again and leaned against the pillows. Seeing my expressions and actions, he smiled a little, crawling over to me and sitting close.
He jumped immediately into what seemed to be filling him with the most pain - I finally realized how much he had wanted to talk and scolded myself for being so cold. The reason he hadn't been talking to me was because I gave him the impression I didn't want him to....
I listened quietly as he told me all about the anger, the pain, the simple need he felt for sleep and food, the feelings of helplessness, submission, obedience, sadness, worthlessness, and loneliness. After what must have been hours of tear-stained words and memories, he leaned his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes.
"Sometimes my whole body aches from everything. Although I want to, I can't sleep at night. It hurts too much to sleep - I feel like someone will be there, still watching me, still waiting to jab me with their precious sticks and clubs. And when I wake up, I can still hear the voices mocking me. They still say I'm 'just a dirty bastard, crying for his' - " He stopped abruptly and looked at me.
"Go on," I said softly.
He licked his lips and looked down at his tummy. "You," he whispered. "I...cried for you."
For me?
He stopped for a few seconds before continuing quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to give them your name if I did. That's the last thing I wanted. I just couldn't help myself...or something...." He glanced at me again. "I hope you don't think I'm...you know...."
I shook my head quickly.
"They thought I was.... That's what they said. 'Crying for his little lover boy.' " He bit his lip. "I'm sorry. I - "
"Shh...it's okay. Don't worry about it." I tried to sound calm, but that was proving to be difficult. Me, Trowa's little lover boy? God,I wish.... No. No, I didn't think that....
I noticed him blush, much to my intrigue and surprise. I had never seen Trowa blush in the many years I had known him.
He suddenly changed the subject back to other methods he had been subjected to while in prison.
---
Dash - Part Eight
That night, before going to bed, Trowa coughed lightly and asked me,
"...Would you...um...sleep with me?" He spoke almost inaudibly, as if afraid of the answer or reaction he would receive. "I mean...just in the same room or something. Somewhere nearby? ...I'd feel a lot safer if I had you around. ...I might even be able to stay asleep all night...."
He refused to let his eyes meet mine during his explanation, looking at the ground, the walls, my feet. But, when I didn't reply, he glanced up cautiously, and our gazes locked for an instant.
"Sure," I said softly, seeing the forlorn expression under the greenness of his irises.
He smiled timidly and murmured a "thank you."
I set up a little bed for myself on the floor, and, after finding a semi-comfortable spot, fell asleep. However, I found myself awakened suddenly by the sound of Trowa crying out. I quickly turned on the lamp and saw him sitting, breathing quickly, his eyes frightened, the sheets twisted around his ankles.
I scrambled to sit next to him on the bed while he apologized repeatedly for waking me up.
"Shh...shh..." I cooed as I took him into my arms. "It's okay...."
He attempted to tell his dream in broken phrases and words, though they barely came out between his gulping breaths. "They. Rope. Feet. Water. Couldn't breathe - "
"Shh...it's all right...I'm here...nothing's going to happen to you...."
He took in a deep breath and rested his head on my chest. "Don't let them. Don't let them get me."
"Hush.... No one's going to get you." I began rocking him gently. "I won't let anyone get you. You're safe...it's okay."
"But...so cold." He shivered and curled up. "Hurt. Thought I would die. So scared."
I brought him up onto my lap, bringing him closer to me to help him warm up, my arms tightly wrapped around his quaking body. "I've got you...it's all right...just relax.... There's no water, no rope, no 'they.' Just me. Just Quatre. I'm not going to hurt you. No one's going to hurt you."
"Cold."
I tucked his head under my chin and leaned back against the pillows. "Shh...." I pulled the blankets over his shoulders. "Shh...."
He said no more. He was still trying to slow down his breathing. I continued to rock him and whisper little sounds of comfort. His heaving chest eventually slowed down to normal. My fingers ran across his pale cheek, and he closed his eyes.
With a final sigh, his breaths slowed even more. He stopped shivering, and I felt him gradually relaxing. A small snore told me he had fallen asleep once again.
I watched him sleep, upset with myself for not knowing about his nightmares earlier. Had he woken up like this every night since he had come to me? And I hadn't noticed? It must have been terrible for him...to have no one around to comfort him at all. How could I have been so blind? I never even asked him if he slept well....
I stroked his hair gently with my fingers, its softness strangely reassuring to me. It made me feel better. I yawned and smiled, his warmth making me sleepy again. I watched him for a few minutes more before being able to drift off as well.
The nights continued that way for the next few weeks - whether it was three or four, I couldn't tell. Time passed too quickly for me. Trowa's nightmares became less frequent, and soon we could both enjoy a night of silent sleep. However, my bed still went unused. Trowa confessed he was a little nervous about sleeping by himself again, so I agreed to continue sharing a bed with him.
He continued to improve physically, as well. Pill bottles were left forgotten in drawers, eating was no longer difficult, and he could dash up stairs before you were able to speak a word. He ran up and down the stairs quite often - well, as often as he could find an excuse, that is - since, I think, he was quite proud of his recovery.
I, on the other hand, though thrilled with his accomplishments, was feeling a little down. The feeling of something wrong just would not leave me alone. I did a pretty good job of hiding it from both Trowa and myself, though. ...Until one night....
"Quatre! Quatre, wake up!"
Trowa's voice jerked me from my world of darkness as I opened my eyes and sat up quickly. My head was spinning and felt like it was being squeezed. My lungs could not grasp enough air - I heaved in breaths and forced them out. My mouth felt dry and my throat stuck.
"Quatre, are you okay?"
I looked at Trowa and had to will myself to speak. "Okay. Yeah." I shook my head. "Ow. What's going on?"
"You were dreaming."
Dreaming. Running. Hot. Cold. Dark. "Dreaming. Bad?" I squeezed my eyes shut while my stomach felt like it was being twisted.
He nodded, his eyebrows wrinkled in concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again.
"I...don't know...."
He scooted himself closer and wrapped his arms around me in a gentle hug. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know," I said again.
He touched my neck lightly. I flinched a little and tried to draw in a deep breath. "Shh...it's all right. Shh...."
"...Did I scream?"
He brushed some damp hair away from where it hung in my eyes. "...Yes...." The pain was obvious in his voice - he was worried.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean...to frighten you." I couldn't get my breathing under control.
" 's fine," he whispered back. "Shh...relax. It'll help."
I nodded and shut my eyes again. "Okay."
He held my face gently in his cupped hand, stroking the space just below my ear with his thumb. He leaned back slightly to rest his back against the pillows, and my head moved down to his chest.
He cleared his throat. "What were you dreaming about? "
"I...don't remember," I said quietly. My ear had quickly located his heart, and the fast, gentle beat vibrated against me. I sighed, focusing completely on the peaceful rhythm. My lungs began to work again. My own heart slowed to his.
He said something else just then, but I didn't hear it. My eyes were closed, and all sound other than the one echoing from his chest had fuzzed out into the background. I thought sleepily as I listened. There's...something...I have...to do.
...Tomorrow. For now, I'll just stay...right...here.
I placed one hand on his chest and let the other one fall around his waist. The thuds beneath my ear calmed me, and I fell asleep a few minutes later.
~
I woke up late the next morning. My mind being a little groggy, it took me a minute to realize why I couldn't get off the bed - Trowa's arms were still around me. When I looked up, I noticed he was still asleep. His head was cocked slightly to the side and down. His lips were straight except for the slight upturn at the corners - an upturn so small, it was nearly unnoticeable. Not wanting to disturb him - and enjoying his cozy hug as well, - I stayed curled up by his side until he awoke, which was about half an hour later.
I heard him rustle and looked up. He noticed me and smiled warmly. I smiled back.
He patted down my hair and unhurriedly released me from his grasp, asking sleepily, "Want me to make breakfast today?"
I nodded. "Yes, thank you."
"No problem. You just stay and rest. I'll call you when it's ready." He yawned, slid off the bed, grabbed his clothes, and shuffled away to the bathroom to change. I sprawled out on the bed, stomach down, and buried my face in the pillows. Ah, they smelled nice.... Well, Trowa's smelled the nicest. His scent was always clean, but...comfortable. Sort of the way a blanket you've had since you were a kid always smells just right. ...Almost a cuddly smell or something.... It was hard to describe, actually. I just knew that I liked it.
I breathed the scent of the pillow for another few minutes. But, eventually, I pried myself off the bed and went to change as well.
As I noticed myself in the mirror, I put my hands on my hips and scolded what I saw.
Eyeing my hair especially, I told myself, "Quatre, you need to stop looking like you just got a bad case of static electricity." Trowa must think you're one of those "secret slobs."
I frowned and decided to take a shower.
~
Breakfast was unusually quiet. Trowa and I exchanged a few gazes and a few words, but contact between us was, otherwise, almost non-existent. Although, I caught him looking at me frequently, concern still wrinkled across his eyebrows.
As we finished, I cleared my throat. He looked up at me intently, perhaps hoping I would reassure him that I was fine.
I licked my lips and said quietly, "Trowa, I'm going to do something today, and you have to promise something."
He looked a little puzzled, but replied, "Sure. Anything."
"I'll be in the room upstairs - the one where I keep all my music - and I'll be in there for a long time. You have to promise not to come into or near there until I come out."
He raised an eyebrow, obviously curious, but figuring he shouldn't ask. He nodded. "Okay."
I smiled. "Good."
He hesitated a moment before asking, "You're...sure you're all right?"
"I will be if I finish what I need to get done today."
"Okay. If you're sure...."
"I am."
He studied me for a second before nodding in approval.
I washed the dishes while Trowa rushed upstairs. I ascended the stairs a little while later, heading straight for the room I planned on locking myself in for a good portion of the day. I opened the door and, much to my surprise, found Trowa searching through a drawer in the desk where I kept most of my music.
"A-hm."
He turned and looked at me, straightening immediately. "Just...getting my flute and some music?" He grabbed his flute from the cabinet. "I wanted to practice a piece I'd been trying, but I can't seem to find it."
"Check the library. There might be a few music books in there."
He nodded and looked around the room. "Right. Thanks. I'll leave you alone, now." He hurried out of the room and down the hall.
I shut the door behind him and locked it. Walking over to the window, I began. Now....
"Quatre, what's wrong?" I asked myself.
You know what's wrong.
"If I knew what was wrong, I wouldn't be asking."
What did you dream last night?
"I don't know."
Think.
"But I don't remember it."
Remember it. Do you even want to remember it?
"I do."
Think, first, about something related to it.
"How do I do that if I don't even know what it's about?"
Okay, then think about when you feel happy. Think about when you feel sad. It's a start, at least.
"But I don't know why I feel sad."
When, not why.
"I don't know when I feel sad either."
Then when do you feel happy?
"At night."
Why?
"I don't know. Because I can sleep."
Why?
"Because that's what people do at night."
Why are you happy at night?
"Because I can sleep."
No. Why are you happy at night?
"Sleep."
Try again.
"I get tired during the day, so being able to sleep is nice."
What wears you out?
"I don't know."
Yes, you do.
"No, I don't."
Stop struggling.
The conversation with myself continued much like that for a long time. After awhile of getting absolutely nowhere, I was beginning to become a little frustrated. My stomach growled a little as well, wanting something to fill it.
"Don't eat until you figure it out, Quatre."
It's right in front of you.
"I don't know what it is, though."
What are you trying to find out?
"What's bothering me and why."
You know what, and you know why.
"No, I don't."
Yes you do.
"How can you be so sure?"
How can you be so sure? Oh, nevermind. Go play your violin or something. Think about it again in a little while.
I sighed and obeyed, walking over to my violin and removing it from its case. I marched over to the desk and opened the third drawer from the top - the drawer I used for my slow music. I shuffled through a few pieces before one caught my eye. I removed it and studied the notes. It didn't look that familiar....
I tucked the violin under my chin and set the bow to its strings. The music was difficult, and I struggled through it the first few times. It was slow most of the time, but it sounded upset, disturbed. At some parts, it suddenly sped up in a tone of desperation. I found it...well, intriguing would be one way to describe it. Almost capturing. The fourth time through the notes, I noticed a few of the words scrawled beneath them, but, not seeing enough, couldn't tell what the song was about.
After my sixth try, I sat on the floor and read them straight through, curiosity finally compelling me. My lips moved to form the words while I squinted at the small print.
"Sitting next to me, I feel the heat of you. Sitting next to me, we are cold. I want to know you, but do you? We are brave, but neither of us bold. If I love you, will you love me? I want to feel your touch. Can't you see? I want you so much."
The words struck me immediately. I wasn't sure why. I felt an odd compassion for the composer.
"You rest your head, you fall asleep. I lie in bed, feel my skin creep. I want to know the depth of your eyes. I don't want to drown in all these lies. I want to silence all my cries. My cries for you. Tell me. If I loved you, what would you do? Would you let me see? Realize you?"
I continued reading, seized.
"Let me know. May I touch you? I don't want to let you go. May I kiss you? Since I met you, I've wanted to do so. Or should I forget it? I am just a friend to you. Our flame can not be lit. I just don't know what to do. But I can wait. You are my life. You are everything. I must wait. I love you. I cannot let you go. I want you. Let me tell you so."
And that was all.
I sighed, the words of the song depressing me a little. It was a little short, perhaps, but whoever had written it.... He sounded lonely, upset....
Just like me.
"I'm so lonely."/I Duo.
"Have you ever felt like that?"
"Yes. ... I was in love." Wufei.
"I...cried for you. ... They said, 'Crying for his little lover boy.' " Trowa.
Cries. I skimmed the words of the song again.
"I want to silence all my cries. My cries for you." Trowa....
"If I love you, will you love me?" Love. "I love you. I can't let you go. I want you. Let me tell you so." Tell me.
The loneliness - wanting Trowa to hold me. The memory of a fantasy - Trowa's tongue on my skin. The bombing - wanting to see Trowa again. My porch - finding Trowa, having him at last. The bath - touching Trowa's skin, undressing him, a soaked hug. Breakfast - Trowa's lips touching my fingers. Sleepless and slumbering nights - wrapped in Trowa's arms, or him wrapped in mine. The cries, the words, the smiles, the subtle touches, the urges to hold, to comfort. Trowa.... The friendship, and yet something so much more. The hidden desire and love behind his hands. Behind mine. Behind his words. Behind mine. Trowa....
Trowa. Why hadn't I seen it before?
I stared at the words of the song again. Trowa. My eyes closed, and words were born from my voice which sounded extraordinary to my ears. "Trowa, do I...love you?"
Yes! That's it!
I shook my head. "No. No, he's a guy. I'm a guy, too."
It doesn't matter.
"But - "
It doesn't matter.
"...Oh, Trowa...." Do I love you? I don't know....
Yes!
I touched my fingers lightly to my lips and said the words again. "I love you...Trowa."
Yes! Yes!
I shivered, the adrenaline beginning to control me. "I love you, Trowa."
Yes! Yes! Yes!
"Oh, God, do I love you, Trowa! What was wrong with me?"
You didn't want to see it.
"Trowa, I love you so much...."
Go tell him!
I stopped immediately. "No."
Why not?
"He'll think I'm crazy."
You're an idiot.
I looked at the song again, re-reading the words. "Oh, God.... Trowa. Trowa." His name spilled out of my mouth as if it had been long needing to overflow. "I love you."
Go get him.
I stood shakily to put the song away, flipping the last page over absent-mindedly, a little fluttery from my precious realization.
I froze in my footsteps as the letters on the page reached my eyes. There, on the back, in the same scribbled handwriting as the song had been in, lay the words that nearly made me fall over in shock.
"Impossible Love"
by Trowa Barton
---
Dash - Part Nine
I stared. "Impossible Love" by Trowa Barton. So Trowa loved someone....
"Is it me?"
Of course it's you.
"No it's not. And if it is, the song is called 'Impossible Love,' anyway."
Your point?
"Note the word 'impossible.' In other words, not workable."
He wants you. He just thinks you don't want him.
"But I do want him!"
So tell him.
"I can't. How do I know he won't hate me?"
Maybe because he loves you...?
"The song is for someone else."
It talks about crying for someone. Who does he cry for during his nightmares?
"...Me...."
Who did he cry for while imprisoned by the Drachens?
"...Me...."
See? Come on. You want to tell him.
I shook my head. "No."
Just who did you dream about last night, Quatre?
"But that was a bad dream. It was a nightmare."
What made it a nightmare? Trowa telling you he was leaving? You trying to run after him but never reaching him?
"Shut up. Leave me alone. ...I'm not telling him."
Yes you are. Tell him or he might leave for real....
"He'll leave if I tell him. He'll think I'm - "
He loves you. The song is proof.
"But...well, what if he met some girl at the Center? Maybe that's who the song is about."
Then why would he have left to come see you? Go tell him how you feel about him.
I glanced down at the song again. "How?"
'I love you,' might be a good way.
"Too simple."
Cover yourself with chocolate syrup, write 'I Love You, Trowa' on your stomach with whipped cream, and let him lick it off you.
"No!"
Well, keep it in mind.
"...Hn."
Don't worry. You'll think of something. Just say it however feels right.
I took in a deep breath. "Okay. I can do this." I ran my fingers through my hair, making sure it was smooth. I checked my reflection in the glossy surface of the back of my violin. "Trowa, I love you. ...No, that sounds wrong."
Don't practice. Just say it. You've been putting it off long enough.
I folded Trowa's song and stuck it in my pocket. Nodding once, I closed my eyes briefly before marching to the door and opening it.
Go on.
"I'm stuck. My legs won't move."
Oh, for....
I rested my quaking hands on the door frame and shoved my feet forward. I'd never felt so nervous in my life. I was amazed I hadn't already passed out.
Why was it so hard for me? It seemed like such a simple thing - only three words to be uttered. But the reaction...what would Trowa say in return? Would he say he loves me, too? He just wants to be my friend? He thinks I'm a sick pervert? ...Nothing...?
I moved down the hall without really knowing where I was going. I didn't even know where Trowa was. I felt like my heart was going to pound right out of my chest. My whole body was tingling and fluttering with anticipation and adrenaline.
Unfortunately, I found him quickly. He was lying down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, a small, closed box on his tummy. Once again, I found myself stuck, unable to pass through the doorway.
He noticed me soon after I stopped at his door. He picked up the box, sat up, and scooted over to the edge of his bed.
"Quatre?" He sounded concerned. I couldn't blame him - I must have looked pretty shaken. "Quatre, are you all right?"
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. He looked at me curiously for a minute while I stood, rigid, open-mouthed, expression frozen, in the middle of his doorway. He stood and approached me cautiously.
"I - I'm fine," I stuttered. "Really."
He looked straight into my eyes, searching for something within them. I couldn't break the gaze that quickly formed. His eyes were deep, like a pool of enchanted forest. A forest so thick and so rich that it was easy to get lost, but so beautiful you would never want to leave anyway. I allowed myself to get lost for the first time.
He smiled a little and touched my cheek for an instant. "Well, then if you're really okay, there's something I have to give you."
I cocked my head as he presented the box in an open palm.
"What is it?"
"Why don't you see for yourself?"
I eyed him and plucked the box out of his palm. His smile widened a tiny bit more. I opened the lid and peered inside.
"...Trowa...?" I looked at him a little curiously. Maybe he did love me....
He shuffled his feet and glanced away. "...I don't know how often guys wear bracelets, but...."
I picked up the bracelet inside the box. It was made of small, round, slightly cloudy-white stones.
"It's made of quartz, which symbolizes inner strength," he explained quietly.
I smiled. "You think I have inner strength?"
"I know you do."
I fingered the stones gently. It was the most beautiful gift I had ever received.
"Would you mind if I put it on you?" he asked shyly.
"Of course not...." I handed it to him, and he bent forward over my wrist to clip it on. I leaned toward him so my mouth was directly next to his ear. It took almost all of my energy to keep myself from shaking as I whispered, "Thank you. It's beautiful."
I heard him gulp and exhale unsteadily. "...Then it's worthy of you," he whispered back.
My own breathing was beginning to become irregular. My knees felt as if they were about to give out under my fluttering stomach and pounding heart. I lowered my voice even more. "Then...you think I am beautiful?"
He hesitated. "I know you are. You're beautiful and gentle and kind...."
Say it, Quatre! Say it now!
But before I could, he straightened up again, having accomplished putting the bracelet on some time ago. He looked at a few of the decorations on the walls.
"Wait," I said.
He looked at me, timidly. "M-hm?"
I took a step forward. "Did you ever find that song you were looking for?"
He froze. "No."
I pulled the folded sheets out of my pocket and handed them to him. "Is this it?"
He unfolded the paper and glanced at the music. "...Yes."
I nodded. "It's quite a nice song. ...Who is it about...?" I took another step.
"It's about...um...."
"Yes?" I stood directly in front of him and stared into his uneasy eyes.
"Uh...."
I gently placed the tips of my fingers on his shoulder and let them slide down a short distance. "If you love someone, I'd like to know who it is.... Maybe I can help...."
He touched my forearm lightly before grasping it and moving it away. "Quatre...?" He studied me. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"
"Just fine," I smiled. "...As long as you're around."
He closed his eyes in an attempt to regain control. "Quatre, please don't say things like that. You don't know...what it does to me." A blush rose in his cheeks.
I leaned forward so my lips were next to his ear once again. "I know exactly what it does to you. I feel it too."
He made a small noise of surprise. "You - "
He held is breath as I kissed his neck lightly.
"Quatre - "
"Shh...." I slid my hands up his chest.
I could feel him struggling for air.
"...I love you, Trowa."
It felt like he melted into me as soon as I had said those words. He wrapped his arms around me and held on so tightly I could feel his heart pounding through our clothes. "Quatre...." He paused to kiss my ear. "Quatre, I love you.... I've been wanting this for so long. ...I love you, I love you, I love you...." He kissed my neck, and shivers flew down my spine.
I nuzzled against him, my arms around his shoulders, my face buried in his turtleneck. "I'm sorry for not noticing it sooner. I love you, and I didn't even let myself see it. ...I accepted it today. It was too powerful to ignore any longer."
He straightened and looked into my eyes, his own filled with so much passion I thought I'd have to lean against something to keep me on my feet. "And you're sure you're okay with it?" he asked softly.
"With loving you?" I kissed his lower lip. "Positive. I've never felt like this before. ...I don't think I'll ever feel like this about anyone again."
He closed his eyes and kissed my lips, then whispered against them, "I won't argue with that...."
My hands slid down his sides, only stopping when they reached his hips, where they rested snugly. His breaths were heavy against my cheek as I whispered words of my affections.
He smiled. "Am I dreaming?"
"I don't think we would be dreaming the same dream."
"It's just so...it's hard to believe. I never thought that anyone really loved me." He spoke quietly, his expression and voice tinted with loneliness. "I mean...Catherine...well, she's like a sister to me, but...beyond that, there was no one." He smiled sadly. "When I first fell in love with you, I tried to stop myself. I thought I knew you would never return any kind of those feelings, and the longer it went on, the worse I'd feel. It hurt so much, but I just couldn't get you out of my mind. You were always with me somehow...."
I smiled a little, touched by his confession. "I hope I can make up for all the pain I've caused you...."
He shook his head. "You've already washed it all away."
I stepped forward, causing him to step back - towards the bed. "You're sure...?" I licked under his ear lightly. "There's nothing you want me to do to make up for it...?"
Other than his rugged breathing, he was completely frozen. "Quatre - ?"
I grinned. "Just kidding."
He nuzzled my neck. "You sure?"
I laughed a little, but said nothing in return.
~
Life from that day on was extremely different. Although we still slept in the same bed - though chastely - we awoke to warm sunlight, and the first thing we did when we saw each other was to engage in a set of light kisses. Breakfast was eaten from each others' plates, forks, or fingers. If we happened to get food on our faces, napkins were no longer a remedy, as it was usually kissed off. Mornings were spent playing music or reading nonsensical stories to each other. Lunch was eaten in the same manner as breakfast, as was dinner - after which we usually curled up on the sofa together to watch bad movies with terrible special effects. They always amused us the most. Once the movie was over, and we had climbed into bed again, we fell asleep wrapped in each others' arms. The outside world became nearly unknown to us, and only we existed together.
One afternoon, after lunch, as I was searching for marshmallows to put in my hot cocoa, Trowa unfolded the newspaper. A few seconds later, I heard him make a small noise of excitement.
"What?"
He re-folded it and handed it to me. "Read."
I took the paper and unfolded it again. I glanced up at him and found him with a huge grin on his face. I started to read the headlines. A smile crept upon my lips as well as I saw what he was talking about: Defeat of Drachens.
"No wonder I haven't heard about them lately...."
He laughed. "Well, they had it coming to them!"
I kept reading and found that the Drachens had been pushed out of control by a group of people who simultaneously took over each of their stations, killing many and injuring even more.
"Hn. Enough people finally got enough nerve to do something. Too bad no one did that sooner," I commented to myself, setting the paper down again.
Trowa stood up. "Can we celebrate?" The expression on his face was obviously one of excitement.
I grinned and strolled up to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Got anything in mind?"
He eyed my hand before looking at me innocently. "Not especially...."
I slipped my other hand under his shirt. "What do you feel up to?"
"Oh...anything...." He grabbed me by the waist and brought me closer to him.
"Want to stay up late tonight?"
He smiled. "Sounds good to me."