Chase again this chapter. I find it easier to get in his head than most other characters. What that says about me, I don't know. Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 4

"Pssst! Omi! Come on, little feller!"

Chase woke silently as usual, giving no sign to any onlookers that he had returned to consciousness. He blinked mentally at the silibant whispers that came through the curtain of Omi's sleeping area. It seemed the other monks were having some difficulty in waking the little one. He wondered why they didn't just come in and shake the younger monk, and then concluded that his presence must be detering them.

He looked down to the side, allowing himself a moment to study the little one's curled form, to smile gently at the soft little murmurs Omi made in his sleep. Omi had stayed tucked in at his side during the night. Chase felt absurdly touched by that small gesture of trust. It was a feeling he rarely allowed himself, as it implied that another had come close enough to touch him, maybe wound him. But it was impossible not to be affected by the little one's open caring and trusting nature.

The others were getting a touch agitated outside, which amused Chase no end, but he didn't want to jepordise Omi's position, since his own depended on it. So, regretfully, he gently nudged his companion awake.

Omi awoke by rolling himself to one side, uncurling, and blinking sleepily for a moment. It was all Chase could do not to sweep him up and make a kitten of him. Dammit, no-one should be allowed to be that cute! It wasn't becoming for a dark warrior of his stature to be caught by the youth and innocence of a light spirit, but there really was no denying at this stage that he was more than a little obsessed by exactly that. There was no denying, at least in private, that there wasn't much he wouldn't do to be able to keep seeing that gentle roll into wakefulness.

Omi caught the sound of his friends whispers. Glancing at the small window, he gasped at the amount of light already there. It seemed the little one was late. Omi sprang up, rushing to get ready for the day, calling out to the others that he would be there 'most briefly'. Chase watched this flurry of movement through slitted eyes, smirking slightly to himself. Sooner than Chase had expected, the little one was ready, and moved to leave. Before Omi twitched aside the curtain, though, he glanced back to Chase's as yet immobile form.

"I will return later, Chase Young. I must train. Rest well, my friend." And with that, Omi left. Chase opened his eyes fully to stare in wonder at the space where the young monk had been. Friend? Never in his life, since Hannibal anyway, had anyone called him friend. Never had anyone trusted him that way. His first instinct was to doubt Omi's word, to brush it off as a lie to lull his defences, to disregard it as he did Spicer's inane flattery. But there had been no deceit in the little one's eyes. And why lie to an unconscious man, as Omi had thought he was? Omi must have meant what he said. Omi must ... trust him, at least partially.

Shaken, Chase refused to ponder that. He couldn't think like that. He daren't lower his defences, not even for Omi. He couldn't abandon the instincts of years of fighting just because some young, naive monk called him 'friend'! He couldn't afford to trust the little one in return. But, oh, how very much he wanted to! How badly he wanted to be able to trust Omi. But he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Footsteps in the corridor pulled him from these thoughts, and he was almost grateful, save that he recognised Master Fung's soft tread. He couldn't face Fung, not on top of Omi's confusing admission. Desperately, Chase lapsed into a meditative trance that would pass for sleep. He was too alone and vunerable now to allow Master Fung to see his confusion and take advantage of it. Cautiously, letting his conscious mind float on the edge of sleep, he listened to all that went on, while never showing sign that he was there.

Master Fung entered the room and crouched beside him. Chase heard him place something by his head, something full of things that rattled and clinked. He had to fight to control his jerk of reaction, certain that anything edged Master Fung would bring here could only be a weapon, and worried by the sudden thoughts of torture that leapt to mind. Master Fung reached out, and laid a hand on his chest, at the edge of the bandage that bound his wound.

Chase quivered, at once returning to full wakefulness, determined to face whatever the other intended defiantly. He opened his eyes and glared up at the old man, thinly concealed anger, and fear, in his eyes. Master Fung returned the gaze with equanimity, seemingly undisturbed.

"Lie still," the old man commanded gently, but firmly. "Now that Omi is outside, I would see to your wound. You need a new dressing, as you bled quite a bit during the night. I must change the bandage." Chase allowed his mistrust to show clearly on his face, but Master Fung didn't so much as blink. "If I wanted to harm you, I would have let you die, and let Omi blame Hannibal. I told him I'd help you, and I, too, keep my word." It took a moment for Chase to realise that the other was telling him that he'd known all along last night that Chase had been conscious. Chase shuddered. How he hated being helpless! None of this would have happened if not for that damnable bean!

He lay still, as instructed, and struggled to bear with some semblance of dignity the old man's ministrations. He couldn't deny that Fung was as gentle as if handling a babe, but this only annoyed him more by bringing home, once again, that he couldn't fend for himself right now. He was a babe in Fung's hands, as helpless to affect his fate as any child. He loathed it!

He continued to stare straight ahead as Master Fung finished and began putting away his tools and dressings. He tried to ignore the old man, tried to pretend that he was somewhere else. It was foolish, and childish, but it was the only way Chase could deal with the indignity of the situation. He hadn't been wounded like this before, and he was rapidly discovering that it was a condition he despised. He wanted to distance himself from it. It was a shock, therefore, when Master Fung laid a gentle hand on his brow.

"So proud still," the old man murmured. "So defiant and strong. Oh, but you worry me, you and Omi both. I see it. I see what is happening to you both. I don't know how to stop it. I don't know that I should, though I'm afraid of what may come of it. Chase, why must you always desire what you cannot have? Why must you always choose the one person who could destroy you, and you him. Didn't you learn your lesson before? I did. I had to. I don't want Omi to be hurt the way we were. I don't want to lose him."

Chase watched in horror as a slow tear made its way down Fung's now weathered face. He remembered when that face had been unlined, when a tear had been the most foreign expression that could be found there. Now it came all too readily. It surprised Chase that he could still be hurt be the other man's sorrow. He'd thought that the Heylin influence had driven all such soft emotions from him. But it seemed that Omi was not alone in being able to affect him.

"I have no desire to hurt him, Master Fung," he said softly, putting the respectful title in, both to distance himself from the emotional impact the other had on him, and because he truly did respect him. "I would never seek that."

Master Fung smiled sadly. "Chase, you may not be able to help it. You are what you are, now. You are Heylin. You may not have chosen to be, but you are. You have every instinct to harm him, and few to protect him. I only hope, that if all comes to all, that he is strong enough to protect himself. But Omi was ever vunerable to attacks on his heart. He is strong, but he has been hurt grieviously before, and I do not wish him that pain again. I do not want him hurt."

Chase sighed, closing his eyes. He had to concede the point. It was the very reason he had always chosen to help Omi from a distance, under the guise of a crafty enemy. He had let Omi know, every step of the way, what he was and what he could do. Omi had always known that he was Heylin. But now, it seemed the little one had come to care for him anyway. Master Fung was right. Chase may yet end up hurting Omi in a way the little one could not defend against, and he didn't know how to stop it either. He knew he would fight everyone, anyone, even himself, to the last to protect his little one. He just didn't know if it would be enough.

After a few moments, he registered that Master Fung had left. Alone again, Chase listened to the sounds of the monks' exuberant training in the courtyard, and desperately tried to avoid thinking of what was to come. After all, he still had to live here until he was well enough to return to his fortress. He didn't want to spoil the little peace he could still hope to find here by pondering on dark futures.

Ce sera, sera. What will be, will be.

I don't know if there's a window in Omi's bedspot, but there is in this fic, okay?

Well? Bit more angsty this chapter. Thought I'd bring Fung in more clearly. What do ye think? R&R?