~ Chapter Seven ~
Music conquered Quatre's ability to hear. That familiar tune invaded his ears and it made his stomach clench. The church's ceiling disappeared into a high vaulted darkness. The stained glass window behind the alter had been broken. Cold wind whipped through his hair and stung his skin. He ran toward the exit, heart pounding. He tripped on a pew and fell.
His breath came out in short, ragged gasps. I have to get out of here! With more effort than he should have needed he lurched forward into the center aisle. He ran but couldn't seem to get anywhere. Then the procession began. All the figures around him marched toward the alter. Out now!
He had made it a few more staggering steps away before a hand grabbed his wrist. He twisted around to meet his mother's piercing blue glare.
"No!" his voice echoed off the walls.
She said nothing and pulled him closer causing him to shiver as her long blond hair slithered against his skin.
"No!" he screamed, trying in vain to break free. He found himself dragged to the altar, a black, iron handcuff shackled his left wrist, its chain disappearing into a hole in the floor. Someone below shortened it, bringing Quatre to his knees. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for help. This is wrong! Allah save me!
The priest appeared with an oversized bible behind the alter. "Damned and twisted souls," He rasped. "We are gathered here today…"
Quatre pulled at his chain and cursed while he spoke.
"Quatre."
He let out a strangled sob. Help me. He tried to scream but he couldn't get to the words passed this throat.
"Quatre."
He lashed out with his free arm. NO!
"It's alright now."
Quatre blinked. What? He looked up into Hige's hazel eyes.
His friend smiled down at him, offering a hand. "It's alright." His soft tenor voice overcame the music.
Slowly, Quatre reached out to Hige, who took his hand. Pulling him to his feet gently, they hugged.
"Hige?" He whispered into the boy's hooded sweatshirt.
Hige pulled something from his pants' pocket and touched it to handcuff. It cracked and fell off Quatre's wrist, clanging loudly before the floor swallowed it up. The music abruptly halted. Quatre looked around the church, wide eyed. The silence was almost as oppressive as the music.
He turned to the alter. The priest loomed over them, eyes red with rage.
All the people stood, glaring at them, eyes glowing red. Hige tugged him back up the aisle lined by glowing red eyes. Suddenly he stopped.
Why won't Hige move? We have escape! Quatre reached up with both arms and tugged at other boy. He looked to see why they'd stopped.
Dorothy blocked their path. The white lace of her wedding dress glistened like spider's silk against the darkness of the doors behind her. Her dress filled the entire isle, touching it would be deadly to Hige, he just knew it.
She glided towards them, maliciously grinning.
Hige tensed. He turned, gathered Quatre in his arms, and pressed a cold, wet kiss to his lips. Quatre struggled against him. No, this isn't right. Hige doesn't kiss this way. Hige is warm. The eyes that stared back at him, weren't Hige's. Panic rose in his throat as he shoved at the imposter.
Whatever held him suddenly vanished leaving him alone and shivering. Opening his eyes he found Dorothy Catalonia's luminescent blue eyes staring back at him. She had caught him, he could feel her dress eat away at the white nightshift he wore.
She smiled at him, one white glove hovering over his throat.
"Noooo!"
Quatre shot up in bed, his heart trying to leap out of his chest. He brought his shaking hands to his face. He tried to calm himself, taking one deep breath and then another. Still his heart beat against its cage, valiantly trying to escape. Allah save me… He mouthed, blinking back tears.
The soft sunlight from his bay window shone over him from the left. He dragged one hand down his face. Tired blue-green eyes turned to the warmth covering him and it gently pushed then tension out of his body. His comforter had gotten tangled around him. It had nearly suffocated him during his nightmare. He untangled himself, feeling freer with every part of himself exposed to the light. He flung the drapes back and stood next to the bed. Quatre walked away from it and entered the main area of his bedroom.
Sunlight enveloped the whole room in warmth; the clock glowed six forty five. It was still early. With each step he took he felt better, stronger. He stopped abruptly at his bureau, where a violin gleamed at him. Why in hell did Rashid leave that atrocity here? He plucked one of the strings and it made a high eerie sound; just like its owner. There was no way he was going to keep this.
That warmth turned into rage. With an angry swipe, he knocked the violin to the floor. It cracked but did not break. Just like the damn betrothal papers. Quatre glared at it, it just had to be resilient, didn't it?
He grabbed the instrument by its neck and held it over his head, this is what I think of you! He swung down; the violin splintered and broke as it hit the floor. Quatre held the neck like a knife and stabbed the pieces. The sound of ragged breathing filled his ears.
"Master Quatre!" Rashid threw open the bedroom door. "Are you alright?"
Looking up from where he knelt, Quatre had to take a moment to compose himself. He dropped the broken violin neck on the pile of wood. Oh…I'm fine. He smiled, stood, and stepped over the mess he had just made. "Dorothy's violin fell off the dresser," he said lightly and brushed past Rashid into his bathroom. He heard Rashid call a maid to clean up the mess.
Quatre brushed his hair slowly, letting it scrape across his cheek. The unease in his stomach ebbed away, leaving him feeling only irritated. Destroying the violin had been fun.
"Master Quatre, shall I fetch some breakfast for you?" Rashid asked, his towering figure took up the entire doorway.
Quatre's eyes met his in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. "That won't be necessary, Rashid. I'm not hungry." His voice came out steady and even, if spiteful.
Rashid stood a moment; Quatre expected some kind of reaction but received only a sigh of defeat. "As you wish."
"My school bag is in my study."
The tall bodyguard nodded and retrieved his backpack.
Quatre quickly washed his face, brushed his teeth and pulled his hair back into a tight pony tail that rested at the base of his neck. When he walked back into his bedroom; clothes had been laid out for him. Not amused, Quatre changed into something else. Black felt like a good color wear. His pressed pants fit a little loose, he grabbed a black belt with a gold buckle. A black tank-top under a black button-up dress shirt that effectively covered his fingers didn't feel like enough protection. Quatre frowned and added a black and red vest.
Rashid re-entered the room and took in Quatre's outfit. He only said, "The car is ready, Master Quatre."
The drive to school passed by eventful as always. Quatre didn't feel like talking, but Rashid asked him a question every few minutes. By the time he got to school, Quatre was so irritated he trembled with a fine rage. Quatre bade Rashid goodbye and slammed the door shut.
Still early, the halls were relatively empty. It gave Quatre time to put on his happy lie and greet everyone like he cared. For now, he slammed his locker open and shoved his things inside. So absorbed was he in throwing notebooks and books around in his locker he didn't notice Hige approach until he felt the kiss on his cheek.
"Hey." He had a warm, love-sick smile on his face.
Quatre shut his locker with a bang and flicked his eyes angrily to Hige.
Hige's smile faded as his eyebrows rose. "Rough night?"
"Why do you always ask me that?"
Pressing a little closer, he reached out to touch Quatre's arm but teen shied away. The taller boy's hand dropped. "Cause you were fine all yesterday, so something must have happened last night."
Quatre turned his back to him. "Don't worry about it."
"Did Duo do something?"
A harsh laugh found its way out his throat. "For once, this has absolutely nothing to do with Duo."
"With me?"
"Why would this have anything to do with you?"
"Because you won't look at me and keep flinching when I try you touch you." He spoke softly to Quatre's back.
"I don't want you to touch me," he said louder than he'd intended. "And I don't want you in my personal space. It doesn't take a fucking rocket scientist to figure it out." He spit out sarcastic enough to drown the island of Manhattan. Quatre turned back to Hige to glare at him.
Hige licked his lips and kept silent a moment, his eyes on the floor. "I'm going to let that slide, Q. Cause I know you are in a really bad mood."
Quatre sneered, bad mood? You have no idea.
He brushed his fingers over Quatre's cheek. When Quatre made no move, he let his fingers trail down to the side of his neck. He opened his mouth to say something.
"Fuck off, Hige." Quatre cut him off.
Hige winced but he covered it up before it could to stir any reaction in Quatre.
"Leave me alone, Hige." He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
"You don't want to be alone, Quatre." Hige's voice ran through him.
"I can't do this." Quatre put more distance between them, refusing to look at him. "And you aren't going to do this either."
"Do what?" Hige asked innocently, his hand slowly trailing down the edge of his vest.
"You can't just fix everything! You think you can, but you can't." Quatre smacked his hand away. "You can't make it go away; you can't make her go away." He drew a deep shaky breath and met Hige's solid, concerned look with ice and steel. "And you can't make something out of nothing."
"It's nothing now? It wasn't nothing Monday night."
Quatre could feel the dull ache of a migraine coming on. "That was a mistake." He spat.
Hige went silent, putting one hand over his heart.
Quatre hoped he would leave, but he stood next to him, very still. It took every ounce of willpower Quatre possessed to not give in and lean against that strong, sturdy body and apologize. He couldn't afford that; he refused to lead Hige on. They were through, they had to be. He moved to walk past his friend, but a hand caught his arm. Hige pulled him against his side. He made the mistake of looking up and Hige's intense eyes mesmerized him. "L-let me go." He whispered.
"How can you say that it was a mistake? It wasn't a mistake. We are not a mistake."
"There is no we!" Quatre pulled away from him. "There is never going to be a we…" Allah forgive me. "And you need to accept that."
Hige's jaw tightened. "Why won't you just let me be with you?"
"Don't ask me stupid questions, this is over." Quatre walked passed him without any interference this time. He didn't look back, he couldn't. He couldn't bear to see Hige's heart shatter into little pieces like his own; he would cave, and he refused to allow that.
Hige stared at the same page he had been trying to read for the past fifteen minutes. Duo and Omi sat across from him at the lunch table, bickering like they'd known each other forever. Detention does that to people. Toboe sat next him, watching the other two with wide eyes. His mouth kept opening like he wanted to say something, but then snapped shut. Quatre, of course, was no where to be found.
He had avoided Hige after their little conversation. He sat in the same desk next to him during class, but never looked his way. Quatre was being cold today.
Duo smirked to the blond at his side. "How you doin'?"
Omi obliviously ate his sandwich. "Haven't we already had this conversation?"
"Then you know where it leads." Duo purred, closing what little distance there was between them.
The blond gave him a flat look, "And here I thought lunch time was for eating."
"You could do that too."
Omi leaned into Duo, "You go on ahead and when I'm done, I'll come find you."
A knowing smirk graced Duo's lips.
"If you do that again you are going to get detention, Omi!" Toboe squeaked finally.
Blue eyes rolled as Omi slid back from Duo. "Oh… the horror."
Duo snickered and stood up, "Well, it's been real, but I have places to go and people to screw."
Ignoring them, Hige closed his book threw it into his backpack.
Omi shoved the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth and grabbed his bag, he left in the opposite direction.
Toboe made a whining sound. "Why does he keep doing that?"
"Duo or Omi?" Hige looked at his lunch before deciding he wasn't hungry at all.
Toboe turned to look at Hige, as if he forgot he had been sitting next to him.
"Leave 'em be. It'll be fine."
"Hige?" Toboe slid a little closer and put a small hand on his arm.
Putting his food away, Hige blinked at the littler boy.
"What's wrong?" His face was full of concern, light brown eyes shining.
He patted the boy on the top of his head with his free hand. "Nothing's wrong." He lied to him and didn't like the feeling. Toboe was so trusting, innocent, and honest it hurt not to be as honest back.
"You're upset." Toboe bit his bottom lip and looked shyly up at him. "Is it because Quatre yelled at you?"
A pain lanced through Hige's chest, he had successfully forgotten about that for a whole two seconds, he had be concentrating on how cute Toboe looked. "What?"
Toboe let go of Hige and fidgeted nervously. "Well… I was walking to class this morning and I saw the two of you. You looked like you were fighting... and you looked so sad, Hige."
He turned to the smaller boy and sighed. In Toboe's eyes he saw honest, sincere worry. It was a refreshing change from the neutral, blank looks he received from Quatre. Toboe could never cover his feelings, he was an open book. It made Hige smile just a little. He opened his mouth to tell him not to worry about it but what came out was, "Don't ever change. Don't ever learn to lie or hide."
He snapped his mouth shut and turned away, blushing. What the hell is wrong with me? He missed the furious blush across Toboe's cheeks. He took a breath to compose himself and answered the boy. "Q and I… will be fine."
"But didn't he break up with you?"
Break up with me? Quatre can't break up with me; we have never been 'together.' "Not exactly."
Toboe looked troubled, "But…" He brought his fists up to his chin.
Hige fought the urge to touch Toboe on the cheek, on the hand, or anywhere. It had been a long day and it was only half over, surely it wouldn't hurt to just give in a moment and take comfort where it was offered? The need to be physically affectionate with the boy made his nerves raw and that was the only reason the next question took him by surprise.
"Don't you love him?"
Hige's mouth went dry. "Love?" he asked hoarsely. "It's a little more complicated then that." Please stop asking me this.
Toboe inched closer; Hige was hyper-aware of his closeness. "You do though… don't you?"
His eyes slid shut and he swallowed. Please stop. "Toboe." He pleaded. Hige put a hand over his heart, trying to summon some strength from his fathers for this.
"But if you love him-"
"I never said that!" Hige snapped.
Toboe squeaked and moved away from him. "Okay! I'm sorry!"
Dumb ass… it's not Toboe's fault you have no chance with Quatre. He sighed and laid a hand on Toboe's head. Just the act of touching another person made him feel better. "I'm sorry. Please, don't worry about it… we will be fine." Was it wrong to be sixteen, seventeen, and want to go home and curl up with his father and cry? Probably. Hige let out a heavy sigh. I'll just have to deal on my own.
Toboe leaned against him. "Okay, Hige."
Hige slipped his arm around the boy. They sat in silence until the bell rang.
He followed Toboe out of the lunch room, and was going to offer to walk him to class when he saw Quatre from the corner of his eye and stopped. Toboe had seen him as well and made a dash in the blond's direction. Shit! Hige took two steps after him but stopped dead in his tracks when Toboe reached Quatre and spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.
"Quatre! Please don't break up with Hige!" Toboe pleaded, attaching to himself to the other boy's arm.
Quatre looked down at him in bewilderment. "I beg your pardon?"
"Hige! He's sorry for whatever he did! And he really, really, really loves you! So please don't break up with him!" Each 'really' had been accented by a tug on Quatre's arm and every tug hit him like a physical blow.
Hige's heart stopped.
Quatre's eyes widen. The blond paled.
Toboe just watched him in wide-eyed, perfect innocence having no clue what he had just done.
Hige could not bring himself to move.
Duo appeared out of the crowd and grabbed Quatre. He pushed Toboe away. "Beat it!" He steered Quatre away from the crowd and made a bee-line for the bathroom.
Do I go after them?
He must have moved because Duo sent a glare in his direction that said, don't you dare… you've done enough.
Hige swayed on his feet. He fell against the wall, one hand over his heart.
Omi grabbed Toboe and tugged him out of the spot light. He still had that damned innocent look on his face. Hige want to scream at him! What have you DONE? Yes, I love Quatre! But you don't say that! You never say that!
The rest of the day went by in a blur. Quatre didn't show up for the rest of the day. Rashid must have picked him up. It was just as well, he didn't look like he could take seeing Hige again today.
Duo met him outside the school.
Hige nodded to him and pulled out a cigarette. "How is he?"
"Went home." Duo answered. He stretched his arms over his head, allowing his short t-shirt to ride up, exposing his stomach.
He lit his addiction.
"Kill the shrimp?" Duo asked the corner of his mouth quirking.
Scrubbing his face with one hand Hige sighed and collapsed against the brick wall. "He didn't know any better. He didn't know any better." He took a long drag. It was his fault for telling Toboe how he felt in the first place, this was going to take some serious apologizing, groveling, or blood. "Fuck. Me."
"Why? You fuck yourself better than I could fuck you. The only screw up you've ever done right is hook up with Sumeragi and Weller." Duo settled next to him.
"Don't talk about my fathers like that." Hige warned him.
"Then let's look at your latest screw up," He went on boldly. "The shrimp? Has a federal agent for a father. A real one."
"Duo." Hige's voice had dropped to a low growl.
Duo hadn't stopped talking. "With a birth certificate and everything. You cannot, you cannot get involved with this kid, Whiskers."
Jumping up he put his face in Duo's. "Don't lecture me on shit I already know. And don't call me that."
"Fine." Duo backed off. "But fix your shit. The whole school is all over this. It would suck if his 'rents ever heard what happened today. What do you think they'd do to their precious little heir?"
"They can't make him any more miserable than he already is." Hige muttered, taking a long slow drag of his cigarette. The nicotine flowed through him, easing some of the tension from his shoulders, but nothing would relieve it completely. Nothing short of a drunken stupor, make up sex with Quatre, or killing Dorothy would make the tension go away completely. The first and last he could do, but he'd prefer the second. Which left him nothing to do but go to work. He walked away from the school, Duo falling into step beside him. They made it to the subway without speaking. The tense quiet between them was a reverse of last week, with Duo in the doghouse and Hige lecturing.
At his stop Duo nudged him. "See you after work."
Hige nodded and made his way to the garage.
Quiet greet Hige upon arrival. With only two cars in the shop, today Winry and her husband Alphonse, call me Al, Elric had disappeared into the office to catch up on paperwork. Hige dropped his school bag in his locker and pulled on his dirty, blue uniform. I should take this home and wash it, he reminded himself. He clocked in and checked his workload, replacing a fuel and break line. At least burying himself in car work would let him forget about his blond problem. Quatre wanted space; Hige could give him that. Unfortunately it looked like any hope he had of staying on the inside of Quatre's shields was over, maybe it had been over long before today and he hadn't wanted to see that.
Ken Hidaka had his head buried under the hood of his project. Even in his dirty, grease-cover blue jumper Ken looked hot. He had the body of an athlete. So long as Hige didn't say it out loud, he could admire Ken's perfect body and his perfectly round ass as he bent over the engine.
Hige let out a low whistle. "Damn…" He said, shifting his eyes to the car.
"I almost got it." His assignment was to change the timing belt on a 96 Mitsubishi Eclipse.
"Right," Hige snickered. "You and what herd of gremlins?"
"Be nice to Ken, Hige." Winry said, emerging from the office. Her long blonde hair had pulled back from her face into a ponytail. Her pink jumpsuit had been rolled down to reveal her black sports bra and bare, washboard stomach. Not that Al had anything to worry about from Hige and Ken wouldn't dare, but they sometimes wondered why he would let other men see his wife like that. She's too pretty, Hige would worry that they might try something. But then she did work on cars and carried a fourteen inch pipe wrench in her belt. She patted Ken on the back. "He's having boy problems."
"Boy problems?" Hige smirked as he popped the hood to his project. He glanced at Winry. "I didn't know he had a boy." Ken? Gay?
Ken made a sound from under the hood that distinctly sounded like a curse.
Hige grinned again. "Or… should have one?" He ventured.
Winry sighed, and leaned against the car giving Hige a solemn look. "He thought he had one… Little shit has been taking dear Ken-ken for a ride."
"Hige doesn't want to hear about this." Ken said angrily, not taking his head out from under the hood of the Eclipse.
Fitted the support rod in its hole to keep the hood up, Hige said, "Anything so I don't have to think about my own stupidity."
"You, too?" Winry gave him a once-over, noting how tired he looked. "What happened?"
He thought about the day, how he hadn't done anything really wrong except mismanage one of Quatre's bad moods. Having their private business blurted out in front of the entire school was too much embarrassment as it was, Hige didn't feel like admitting how stupid he'd been to agree with Quatre's rules in the first place. He opened him mouth and then shut it. Leaning against the car he mumbled, "I'm sure our problems are nothing alike, Winry."
"I'm sure Omi is way worse." Ken assured him. The man had successfully removed the timing belt and celebrated with a swig from his water bottle like it should have been beer.
Omi? Hige studied his coworker. There was no way…but then how common a name could Omi be? "Omi?"
Ken nodded, wiping his hand across his mouth.
Winry disappeared back into the office with a conspiratorial smile on her face.
Hige laughed. "I know an Omi. Oh man, do I know an Omi."
"From the tone alone I know it's probably the same one," Ken smiled. That one movement made him look gorgeous and sexy, model perfect if he was taller and less muscled. Hige would bet Ken never had trouble finding a date. "You go to the same school. How in hell do you know him?"
"I didn't until last week." Hige sniffed, "There was a… situation one night at a club we went to."
"The Underground?"
Hige looked up at Ken, a bit startled. "…Yeah."
"That's where I met him. We were getting along pretty good too until his friend showed up and dragged him off."
Hige laughed at the irony. "I get it. You were the one distracting him."
"Distracting?" Ken eyed him suspiciously. "I was talking to him."
Hige crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, well, while he was off talking to you, Toboe was getting into trouble." Nearly killed, he scowled.
"You were the ones involved in the gang fight? It was all over the news but they didn't give any names; I would have recognized yours."
"We got lucky." He admitted, being more truthful than modest.
Ken wiped his sweaty bangs from his face.
"So what did Omi do to get you so pissed off?"
"Nothing, that's the problem, never gave me a last name, phone number any way to reach him. I took him to dinner and everything."
"Cold shoulder?" Hige sighed. "I know how that is." He meant it. He couldn't tell him the truth about Omi, that would be cruel. Still, Hige did owe the smart mouthed little brat for calling him an idiot in front of Toboe. "Say Ken, what would you pay for a little information on him?"
"What kind of info?"
"I know his best friend, could probably get the stats on him."
Ken thought on it moment. "You're having some problems of your own right? How about some heavy duty apology flowers? For Omi's last name, address and phone number?"
Quatre did like flowers and Ken worked at a flower shop part-time, like he worked at the garage, so he probably knew a lot about flowers. "You got yourself a deal." They shook hands on it, then both got to work before Winry came back out and noticed them slacking off.
Toboe fidgeted. Hige had just sat down across from him at the lunch table they now shared. Yesterday Quatre had gone home right after lunch period. Toboe had seen it from his seat in English class. Of all people, Duo Maxwell had helped him into a silver car. Quatre hadn't come to school today either. He was sure it was all his fault. Quatre had reacted really weirdly to being told he was loved. Maybe he should have let Hige say it, but how could it be a bad thing to be loved? Toboe would have happily changed places with Quatre if that meant Hige would love him. "H-Hige?" he squeaked.
Hige looked around. "Where are the trouble makers?"
Toboe sat up straight. Omi and Duo had left before Hige had even got there. "Getting lunch?"
Nodding, Hige pulled out his lunch.
Toboe studied him. The green of his shirt made his brown eyes look more greenish than their normal gold-brown. He looked less worn out today but there were dark circles under his eyes. Even still… He is so cute. Toboe sighed, mind out of the gutter! He worried his bottom lip. "I'm really, really, really, really, really sorry about yesterday!"
The larger boy said nothing, just gazed back at Toboe neutrally.
He's not going to forgive me! Toboe shook his fists close to his chin and squeezed his eyes shut. "I didn't know that he didn't know you loved him, and he shouldn't be upset about it anyways cause if someone like you loved me I would be ecstatically happy and-" A firm hand plopped down on his head. Toboe's mouth shut and he meekly opened his eyes to Hige.
Hige's lips were one, thin line. "Leave alone what you don't understand, Toboe."
Toboe gulped and nodded.
"And you are forgiven," He patted his head twice and pulled away. "I know you didn't understand what you were doing. Quatre is fine, he's …sick."
"Sick?" Toboe asked softly. He had looked pale. He could have been sick. And Hige said he was sick, so he was sick, right? Toboe trusted Hige.
Settling back into his seat he said kindly, "Yeah… don't worry anymore."
Warmth flooded through Toboe. It only happened when Hige spoke to him, like the day just suddenly decided to be beautiful. "Okay, Hige." He answered brightly.
Hige smiled, "I need to talk to you."
He cocked his head. Hige needed to talk to him? Really? His heart started beating a little faster. "Okay!"
"You don't even know what I want to talk to you about and you're all excited." Hige chuckled softly.
"That's cause Hige needs me!" Toboe beamed. "Besides, I wanted to ask you something too."
Hige blinked a moment, as if surprised by his answer.
Toboe smiled sweetly at him. "The basketball game is this Friday and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with Omi and me. We go to all the home-games."
"Sure," he answered almost immediately. "I don't have work, I think…" He dug in his backpack for a day planner. He flipped it to the paper-clipped page. "Yeah. What time does it start?"
"Seven," he chirped. "So, you'll come?"
The brunette nodded.
"Cool!" The smaller boy tore into his lunch with gusto. "What did you need to talk to me about?"
"Well," Hige leaned forward conspiratorially, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening he whispered, "it's a favor, for Duo."
"Duo?" Toboe blinked confused. What could Duo possible want from him? That's kinda scary.
He continued, "I'm sure you've notice that Duo has been spending a lot of time with Omi."
A lot of time. The last three days they were like glue, which was odd considering how much Omi had hated Duo. Toboe nodded back to him, leaning closer. The smell of Hige's cologne made him giddy. It would be wonderful just to sit next to him again like yesterday, but, no; Hige loved Quatre so he was off limits.
"And Duo asked me, if I would ask you," he emphasized his words by putting his hand on Toboe's that almost made him jump. "Some questions about him."
Toboe chewed at his bottom lip. Omi didn't like telling people anything. I'm not sure it's right to tell Hige anything, even if it is to tell Duo, but couldn't Duo ask him himself?
"Duo wants to do something to surprise him, otherwise he would ask him." Hige answered his thought.
"Something special? Like what?" Now he was curious. People never did special things for Omi. Not even Heero when they were dating. Toboe's eyes widened. Duo would do something special. That would make Omi happy! He needs a good thing to happen to him, he's been so angry lately.
Shrugging he answered. "I don't know. That's for Duo to decide."
I wanted to know… Toboe pouted.
Hige smiled at him. "You are so cute."
His face burned. "I am not!"
"Yes, you are!" Hige laughed laying a quick kiss on Toboe's forehead.
He didn't think he could get more red, but his face tried.
Hige sat back with a smug look on his face. "Now Omi." He dug through his bag to pull out a notebook and pen.
Toboe swallowed. "What do you want to know?"
"Let's start with the basics: birthday, family, and where he lives."
Scratching his head he looked at Hige. "But, why would Duo need to know that?"
"Well, it's important to know his birthday, and his address would be nice, maybe he could send him flowers or som— "
Toboe gasped. "No!"
Hige's head shot back up, startled. "No?"
"Omi's allergic to flowers! Don't send him flowers."
"Oh." He made a note.
Toboe fidgeted as Hige scribbled down the address in his notebook. "You know, Omi is going to be mad at me for telling you this stuff."
"Don't worry." Hige didn't even bother to look up from his notes. "Duo won't tell him you helped."
The Winner mansion always bustled with activity. With six floors and more than one hundred different rooms, it supplied many people with jobs. Whether they were hired to clean, cook, secure the area, or in Rashid's case, guard a body, there was never a shortage of chores, assignments, or crises to solve.
Today was Rashid's day for a major crisis. He checked in on his young master. Quatre had buried himself under the comforter. The only indication he was even there was the mound in the middle of the bed, of course that could have been one of the dogs. Rashid would give him another twenty minutes to stay in bed, then it was time to get up.
Master Quatre had ordered all of his lessons and engagements cancelled. He didn't go to school either. The migraine wouldn't go away with just his medication. Far be it from Rashid to ever question anything the blond boy wanted, but he had the distinct feeling there was more to his staying home than just a migraine.
Master Quatre had been in an odd mood yesterday morning, so he had not been surprised to receive a call, requesting that the young heir be brought home. What did surprise him was that Mr. Maxwell had been the one to call. What concerned him more was that there had been no word from Master Hige, only a bouquet of flowers that had arrived today. There had been no explanation from Master Quatre, only a wounded look and an order to throw them away.
Rashid stroked his beard thoughtfully. He had little say in his charge's love life, the mess that it was. He had hoped in the beginning Quatre's relationship with Hige was a rebellion against the betrothal. They had both been so young when it started he had dismissed it as fooling around, but it had gotten too serious too quickly. While they were still young enough to change their minds, find a nice girl to settle down with and have a family, it seemed unlikely. He sighed. Thursday, it's only Thursday, he reminded himself.
Perhaps tea would help to ease the migraine. He went into the kitchenette attached to Quatre's bedroom. The pot was still hot from the tea that had been brewed that morning, so he poured a steaming cup of chamomile tea and retrieved a ready made sandwich. Master Quatre needed food in his stomach to take his medicine, if he couldn't keep down lunch he might not be able to take his medicine later.
Quatre had moved from the bed and now curled up on his lounge chair. He picked up his head for a moment when his bodyguard entered, then laid if back against his arm. "What time is it?" His voice dragged and faded before it ever became fully pronounced.
Rashid set his tray on the bedside table. "Just after noon." He picked up the tea cup carefully and held it out.
Quatre took it with both hands and blinked into it. He cleared his throat. "I don't suppose its time for my next dose?" His voice still sounded soft and dull.
"Not until four, Master Quatre."
He took a sip of the tea slowly. The effects of his migraine medicine still showed in the way he moved, trance-like. Rashid made ready to claim the cup of tea before it tumbled from Quatre's fingers.
"Why don't I open the window; give you some fresh air?" Rashid asked. He moved behind Quatre to one of the windows.
The blond didn't answer, he just blinked down at his hands like they were very interesting. When he did look up he glared at the flowers. "I thought I said to dispose of those."
Silent, Rashid tied back the drapes in hope of finding a comforting ray. Not much would comfort his young master at this point.
"You don't have to watch me so close, Rashid." Quatre's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"I am your body guard, I am paid to watch you."
Quatre snorted. "No. You're watching me like I'm going to do something stupid."
Rashid pulled up a chair and sat next to his master. "And would I be wrong?" he stared at Quatre's face, but the boy wouldn't look at him.
"Tell me…" Quatre shifted and finally looked at him. "What would you do?"
Rashid placed his hands on his knees. "In your position?" He weighed his answers carefully. "I would take more care of my own well being."
"What for? There are people like you to worry about that for me." He set the teacup and saucer down on the table rather hard.
"Don't be childish, Master Quatre." Rashid sat up straighter. "You have much to look forward too."
Quatre gave a harsh laugh. Rashid had heard it many times. "The sole purpose of my existence is to entertain my mother and provide my father with an heir to the fortune that he has sacrificed his own happiness for. Why come to America in the first place? Nothing is different."
Rashid patiently turned Quatre so he sat facing him. "You would have the opportunity to change things."
"Not while my mother is still alive."
"Your mother is only looking out for what she believes is in your best interests, Master Quatre. And try not to be so hard on your father, he has much on his plate." Rashid treaded carefully.
There was no use in trying to reason with the young heir.
"Right, remind me again how forcing me to marry a water retaining sea cow and taking over a company I hate has anything to do with my best interests?" Quatre turned away from his bodyguard. "I'm tired, Rashid."
Rashid patted the teen's leg.
Quatre's lip turned up slightly as if he wanted to smile, but couldn't.
The two golden retrievers that had been laying on the bed moved to their master's side. Tasha put her nose next to Quatre's hand and Sherizade laid on the floor by his feet.
Rashid pet Tasha's soft golden head. "You take care of Master Quatre." He told her quietly. He stood from his seat.
Quatre turned back to him. He blinked up at him, blue eyes looking suspiciously watery.
"There is something I must attend to, will you not eat something?"
"Not hungry." Quatre mumbled, laying his head back on his arm and stroking Tasha's head.
"You need to eat to take your medicine."
"I've a couple of hours."
Rashid left his young master with his dogs. He left the sandwich with Maria, one of the house maids. With a heavy heart he went up the far left staircase to the fifth floor. He nodded to the guard standing outside Mr. Winner's study. The well dressed man rapped on the door once. After hearing an "Enter" Rashid went in.
A middle-eastern man sat at the desk at a laptop. Mr. Winner with dark hair and eyes looked nothing like his son. His permanent frown lines on his forehead and around his mouth made him look much older then his fifty years. He glanced up at Rashid and took off his reading glasses. "Is there a problem, Rashid?"
Rashid sat down in one of the chairs across the desk from his employer. "There is something I wish to speak with you about."
"Does this have something to do with my son?" There a hint of annoyance in his voice.
Rashid ignored it. "It does."
"Then why not discuss it with my wife. I am very busy."
"If I may, sir. I believe this is a matter that should be brought to your attention."
Mr. Winner rubbed the bridge of his nose, a familiar habit Quatre picked up. "Very well, what has he done this time?"
Rashid swallowed his irritation. "Sir, he has not done anything, I am concerned about his well-being."
"Well-being? He is better cared for than myself, you know this." Mr. Winner's brow wrinkle grew deeper, the man was losing his patience.
"Master Quatre is unhappy."
"He's a teenager."
Rashid's lips formed a firm line. "He is."
Mr. Winner finally turned his full attention to Rashid. "Quatre is a normal teenager, if he was happy I would worry about him."
Rashid clenched his fists on his knees. "Sir, I wish you to reconsider the betrothal."
The other man's eyes bulged. "I beg your pardon?"
"In the past, betrothals have been both approved by the parents as well as the children. Master Quatre deserves more of a say in this."
"Quatre owes an obligation to this family, he will marry whomever we choose for him." Mr. Winner snapped, "Now, if you will excuse me, any matters that pertain to Quatre are to be discussed with my wife."
Rashid stood straight and bit back a harsh reply. "As you wish." He turned and walked back to the door. There was no use in discussing matters with the master of the household. Master Winner would not concern himself with his son, until his eighteenth birthday, when Quatre would walk right out of their lives and never return.
He walked back into the hall. Maria ran to him. "Rashid! Master Quatre is ill."
"I'm well aware of that."
"No, he is sick." She wrung her hands nervously in her apron. "He ordered me to leave."
Rashid nodded, "I understand, thank you."
She curtsied then hurried off to her other chores.
Rashid went back down to the fourth floor and back into Quatre's bedroom. Shattered remains of the vase of flowers lay abandoned all over the floor. The dogs picked up their heads from where they sat alone by the chair, tails wagging forlornly. Rashid walked over to the bathroom and rapped on the door. "Master Quatre."
"Leave me alone!" his master's hoarse voice called through the door.
Rashid opened the door and slipped inside. Quatre leaned over the toilet, back heaving. "You should have eaten something." He went to the boy and stroked his back.
It was going to be a long day.
