Chapter 4:
Hoot watched Andy hold Meander as if she would never let him go. And he thought he'd never seen a woman's face look more beautiful. Jeff was staring at him. One of those stares he always got when he'd managed to pull something off without getting killed. Sadly, it was hardly the first time.
His friend didn't look good. He looked like he was about ready to fall over in fact.
"I saved you some hot water" Hoot drawled without getting up from his chair. Dark eyes meeting the blue of Jeff's. And Jeff's face finally relaxed. His lips twitched upward. Everything was going to be okay.
"Better have" he answered and Hoot started to grin.
"Saved you some KFC too" Hoot added. "Meander ate up all the gravy and biscuits though. Its not Popey's but its the best these Germans can do."
Jeff chuckled.
"Redneck."
"That's Cracker to you, Yank" Hoot's accent went on thick and slow and than he offered his hand. Jeff took it solidly in his own and that was enough. It was everything.
"You better not have dumped your crap on my bed" Jeff warned and Hoot chuckled.
"Shut up and go take your shower before I change my mind about that hot water."
"Rain check on the hot water. I'm going to sleep instead" Jeff answered. Than he looked back at Andy. Still on her knees with her son held tightly against her. Silent tears on her cheeks. He looked back at Hoot. Hoot nodded and than waited until Jeff went into the bedroom and shut the door before he stood up. Andy's dark eyes opened and rose to find him as he approached. And the look in them...
"Thank you - " her voice was broken. She looked frail. She hadn't even looked fragile when she'd been facing down that Greek general. But she looked fragile now. She was shaking too even though Hoot was willing to bet she didn't even realize it. Meander turned his round little face to look up at Hoot with a content smile, safe back in his momma's arms.
"ah, darlin'" Hoot gave in to his gut and knelt down to scoop both Andy and her son close in his arms. She didn't resist. Just melted willingly against him and after a minute the tears came again. Little Meander snuggled close and just shut his eyes contentedly. Hoot held them both against him and shut his own eyes as well.
He'd never realized what frantic felt like. But when he'd slammed back into the present day and realized that, even though he had the kid, his best friend and Andy were still back in that bad situation and there was nothing he could do to help... he'd understood what frantic felt like. What helpless frantic felt like.
Not a pleasant feeling at all.
He'd waited as long as he had figured he could but he'd had the kid. Priority was the need that was immediate and dealable. Not the two that were beyond his reach. Though God probably hadn't heard him pray like that possibly ever before.
I held onto my son. And I held on to 'hoot'. And it was all I could manage for a very long time. Astyanax nestled close and it was as if a great part of me had been missing and was now returned. 'Hoot's' arms around me shifted after a while and he lifted me, with my son in my arms, and carried me to the couch. Settling me down with my back against the arm of it.
"I'm gonna go get the first aid kit, darlin'. You just stay put an' let me take care of you."
I lifted my face and blinked past my hot eyes as he let go of me and rose. Feeling suddenly very small and very alone without his body against mine. I should have felt guilty for that but I didn't have any energy. All that was left of me was concentrated on holding my son close. And in waiting for 'hoot'.
He came back to me and settled on the cushion next to my feet, setting down a white box and several bottles. Than he took one of my bare feet in his hands. Had it only been a few days ago that he had first done that to me? It felt like a lifetime and I scooted so that my thighs were pressed against my son's back and I could be closer to 'hoot'. His dark eyes shifted sideways and found mine as I peered at him over the top of my son's head.
"It's all right, Andy" his voice was soothing and gentle. "You're safe now. Nothin's gonna hurt you or Meander. A'ight?"
It made my lips, pressed against my son's forehead, curve slightly despite myself.
"Ah-ight" I mimicked and saw the grin break across his face. Quick. Like a little boy's. He chuckled.
"That's my girl" he approved. And than, while I tried to decide how that declaration made me feel, he went back to my feet. Barely healed from my first trek down the side of Mount Ida, re-bruised and torn from my second as a captive. Covered with whatever I had walked over in this new world and cold with the contact from so many foreign surfaces under them, my feet had ached for so long that I had forgotten them. Now, large hands capable, 'hoot' gently washed them, cleaned them and bandaged them. He took his time and I wondered if his touches were not as much to sooth me as they were to heal me. I did not protest. I was far past the point where I could manage that. When he was satisfied with his work, he gently set my feet to the side and opened up one of his arms.
"Come 'ere" he instructed and, awkward, I settled against his side. Astyanax scooted so that he was rested against both of us. Sheltered. And I did feel pain than. For did he even remember his own father's touch and the tender way Hector of the flashing helm had once held his tiny body in battle scared arms and laughed with him? Once prayed to heartless gods with faith that his son would become greater than he was and a joy to me?
"I need your arms, darlin'" 'hoot' told me and I hesitated even that little release of my son. 'Hoot' waited patiently and I finally shifted so that I could hold my child close with one arm and offer 'hoot' my other. His touch was gentle as he went to work on the rope burns and bruises on my wrist and the torn skin on my hand and fingers. Astyanax and I both watched him in silent curiousity. Than he let me switch arms around my son and he began the same process on the other. His face was calm and his dark brows were low over his eyes as he worked. The bruises on his face were fading. Waiting for a moment when he let go of my hand to reach for the strange sticky bandages he wrapped around my scraped knuckles, I reached up and gently touched one of the discolored marks on his cheek.
"How long had you been here?" I asked, mind starting to become suspicious of an idea.
"About six days in the present, countin' today" he answered. "Meander and I waited in Madrid a coupla days and than I got us some wheels and we came back here. I figured Jeff would head this way no matter where or when he showed up. I go back on call tomorrow and there's a woman that lives on base I trust enough if I got called away to watch the kid for me."
Quiet I nodded thoughtfully.
"I left Beans keepin' an eye out for you or Jeff in Spain but I couldn't leave Meander with him."
"Beans is the short one with the blond hair that points skyward?" I asked, remembering the man from the infirmary that had helped 'sandorsun' and I. 'Hoot' nodded.
"Yep" he answered with another chuckle, catching my hand in his again so that he could apply the sticky bandages. "That's him. He works at the embassy there."
I nodded, vaguely understanding. 'Hoot' finished with my arms and than he worked on my face. Checked my head. I sat still while he moved his hands over my back and shoulders. It was too familiar a move on his part despite the fact he was checking for damage but I again could not bring myself to protest it. Or even to lie and tell myself that I did not find pleasure in the feel of his hands on me. Finally he prodded my ribs and asked about my hip and legs. When I had satisfied him that I was not badly damaged he put everything back in its place in the box and again he lifted both my son and I in his arms.
"Come on" he told me, voice low. "I know you're hungry but you look about ready to fall over. I'm gonna put you both to bed first. You can eat when you wake up."
I nodded against him. Far past the point where I would protest. He carried me into the room 'sandorsun' had gone into earlier and I was vaguely aware of dimness and some strange low thrumming hum. My son, curled in my arms, against 'hoot's' chest, sighed out contentedly and closed his dark eyes. Smiling. Gentle 'hoot' set us both down in what felt like a bed. The last thing I remember was the feel of him gently drawing a blanket over me as my son curled close against my chest. And than sleep took me and for a very long time I was its unresisting prisoner.