Warning: Shonen Ai, AU. Implications of self-mutilation and one swear word - I think. O_O
Disclaimer: Both Gundam Wing and Touched by an Angel do not belong to me. I am simply borrowing them.
Christmas Music - Chapter Four
Thick eyelashes fluttered open, and squinted at the bright light of the sun.
"Good morning, little one," a voice sounded, so soft, Quatre wondered if he had just imagined it.
Tilting his head to the side, he saw Trowa sit beside his bed, a small smile gracing his features.
Quatre blinked at his lover, and croaked, "Where am I?"
"In the local hospital. Heero and I found you unconscious in the snow, after your argument with Mr. Winner," Trowa's visible eye glinted with something Quatre couldn't quite place.
Looking about his surroundings, he found himself in a small room furnished with only one bed, a night stand and a chair. On his left was a big window, its curtains withdrawn, letting in the bright, morning sunlight. The air had the telltale hospital smell of disinfectant about it, as well.
Trying to sit up, Quatre felt a sting in his arm, and found an IV line eased into the crook of his elbow. He slowly took it out, and turned his head towards Trowa.
Seeing the frown on the other's face, the blond asked, "What's wrong?"
"Why didn't you tell me?" Trowa asked softly after a short pause.
Feeling a lump form in his throat, he tried to answer, but his voice failed him. Silently cursing himself, he tried again, "Tell you what?"
"About your condition... and your father..." he paused, "Don't you trust me?"
Before Quatre could respond, the door opened, and three young ladies, one of them Irea, entered the room. Each one of them was holding a wrapped package in her hands, and cheerfully greeted their brother.
"Merry Christmas Eve," Irea said, "Not all of us could come, but Becca, Vicci and I were able to sneak away." she smiled, and subtly pointed at the other two ladies while saying their names.
"Thank you," Quatre smiled gratefully up at Irea for introducing his two sisters to him. It was always hard to remember each of their names.
"Here," Becca stepped forward and handed her package to the boy. The others did the same, as the woman continued, "We thought we'd give you some of your presents early. Must be a drag spending all day in hospital, huh?"
"Shame you can't come to the feast this evening," Vicci added, "I guess you won't be able to read the Christmas story this year, will you?"
"No, sorry," Quatre shook his head, "but I'm sure one of you can fill in for me."
"It won't be the same without you, though," Irea sighed.
A pause.
"Do you know anything about father?" the blond asked hesitantly.
Vicci rolled her eyes, "Stubborn as always."
"You have to understand," Irea explained, "He's very old fashioned, but I know he loves you and, in time, will grow to accept your preferences. He's just too stubborn to admit that, at the moment."
"So, you heard the entire argument?" the boy asked.
All of them, including Trowa, nodded.
"I see..." Quatre sighed. He looked down, and realized that he had been playing with the tail of his shirt in a nervous habit.
There was a moment's silence, when suddenly all three sisters at once came forward, and hugged the surprised boy. As they pulled back, he spotted faint tears in their eyes, but they were swiftly wiped away.
"We can't stay long, but... we'll come visit again tomorrow, ok Quat-sweety?" Becca kissed the crown of his head.
"You don't have to do that for me. Really, I'll be fine," he smiled.
"Don't you worry about that. You take care now, ok?" Irea replied, and the three ladies slowly left the room, saying their separate goodbyes.
Looking down at the presents on his lap, Quatre decided to open them the next morning, like tradition demanded. He placed them on his night stand, and looked back at Trowa, who had silently watched this little scene of affection.
"Are the others coming?" the blond asked hopefully.
"They should be here any minute," he took a deep breath, then asked, "Why didn't you tell me about how serious your condition is, or didn't you know?" his calmness was wearing off, trying not to explode in a burst of emotions.
Quatre leaned back, and turned his head away from the tall boy, "I knew."
"Then why didn't you tell me?" Trowa yelled, regretting his tone of voice the moment the words left his lips.
Quatre winced, "It was too late to do anything when I heard how far the disease had spread, and I wanted to enjoy my last few days, not spend them in a hospital."
"But why didn't you want to get treated in the first place?" was the frustrated reply.
"I... I felt unworthy," he lowered his eyelids, but widened them in shock when he heard Trowa's answer to that.
"That's bullshit! You know it is!"
Quatre shrugged, "Either way, there's nothing anyone can do about it anymore."
Trowa fell silent at that. He leaned back into his seat in defeat, and didn't look up when he heard the door open.
"Yo, Quatre!" Duo smiled cheerfully, followed by a solemn-as-always Heero and an undecided WuFei. Pressing a bunch of flowers into the other's hands, Duo plumped himself down onto the white hospital bed. Heero and WuFei positioned themselves by the window, and everyone waited for someone else to say something.
"Um... thanks for the flowers," Quatre tried breaking the mild tension.
"That's ok. We got them this morning at this flower shop, just outside, and you won't believe what those two have been up to," Duo grinned, and pointed at the two by the window.
And the conversations started off. The five of them talked for hours about simply anything; of how Miss Relena always seemed to stalk the poor Heero, how Duo almost got caught stealing some cookies from the kitchen that morning and about WuFei being... just plain old WuFei.
As the hour neared the end of visiting time, they promised to visit again that evening. Heero, Duo and WuFei went ahead, to let the other two have some privacy.
After lingering on a question that had been nagging on his mind for a while, Quatre decided to just said it outright, "Are you going to tell them... about my condition?"
"Yeah. I think it's for the best."
"Alright," Quatre nodded, "If you think so, just go ahead. It doesn't really matter, anyway."
Trowa nodded. After a moment's silence, he lent down towards Quatre, and softly embraced the other in a tender kiss. His tongue eased the other's lips open, and slowly massaged and explored the blonde's mouth.
Quatre, wanting to savour this moment as long as possible, snaked his arms around his lover's neck, and pulled him down slightly. Feeling a tad bold, he let his own tongue stroke Trowa's softly, making the other shudder.
Neither one wanted to end this moment, but slowly pulled apart, both of them breathless.
Quatre grinned up at his lover cheekily, while Trowa smiled subtly.
"I love you," the blond said, after catching his breath again
Trowa's smile brightened at those three words, and replied softly, "I love you, too."
-----
"He misses you."
Iman Winner undecidedly pretended to be busy tuning up Quaterine, while listening to his daughter.
"Father, please. Don't be so hard on Quatre," Irea pleaded. "Nowadays it is socially more common to be a homosexual, and society has become a lot more tolerant over the years. Why aren't you?"
Mr. Winner carefully put the violin back in its case, and looked back at his daughter, "I'm not sure of how to deal with this... I... doesn't it say in the Bible that a man and another man are not allowed to be together?"
"Those words are ancient beliefs written by people. And those did not even come directly from God (1). It is God you believe in, not people who just use him as a source of power and influence - those were your very own words," Ire reasoned.
"You know... it's not really that I'm that much disgusted by him... it's... Quaterine died for him. Quaterine, the person I loved more than anything in the world - the most loving, caring - perfect person I could ever hope for. I was... disappointed when her son was not," Iman replied softly. Even now it was hard for him to talk about his late wife. Quickly, he turned away from his daughter.
Irea could clearly see the tears that had threatened to fall. She didn't want to push the subject, but she didn't want Quatre to die without this being sorted out, either.
She slowly stepped forward and took her fathers hands in hers, and forced him to look into her eyes, "Father. Don't you see? He is perfect - in his own way. His resemblance to mother is shocking in every way. He has her kind heart, her understanding, her ability to love... The only difference is that Quatre isn't limited to loving only women - He is able to go beyond that. It's just that he has chosen a man over a woman. That's what disturbs you, isn't it?"
Taking all of this information in at once, Mr. Winner did not know what to say. His thoughts and feelings were mixed, torn and twisted into every possible direction. A fierce battle waged inside him, and he didn't even know what side he was on.
After what seemed an eternity to Iman, but was in reality only a few seconds, he whispered, "But... I... I don't know, Irea. I don't know what I think anymore. What I'm supposed to do."
"If you can't seek advice from me, then talk to your son. Ask him how he feels."
"He already told me, yesterday," Iman's voice cracked slightly, "But I pushed him away. What kind of a father am I?"
He pulled away from the young woman, and headed towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Irea asked.
"Somewhere where I can think."
-----
Iman Winner entered the sacred building, the shuffling of his feet echoing softly around the hall.
The chapel was a beautiful piece of art. On either side were stained glass windows, each showing a different story from the Bible. Rows and rows of chairs filled the hall, only a red carpet parting it, which led down to the alter. A statue of a saint was placed in each corner of the chapel, and at the alter were two candles burning brightly in front of a figure of God's son, Jesus, on a cross just before he died. The air was warm and comforting, and smelled of roses and burning incense. The hall was completely empty, safe for Mr. Winner and a single person sitting in the front row.
Mr. Winner slowly moved towards the towering statue of Jesus, and sat down on a chair in one of the front rows.
And there he just sat, in the tranquility of this sacred house. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the other person bowing his head in silent prayer, and decided to do the same.
He prayed for his son, his family, and for God to show him the way to go. Against everything he had ever been taught, or against his own son?
After minutes of whispered prayers, he looked up again. The other occupant had now lifted his head, and gazed at the statue. Looking more closely at the man, he recognized him to be Chang WuFei - one of Quatre's friends. Perhaps he would be able to give the old father advice. It was better than nothing.
Quietly, Iman slipped out of his row, and sat down next to WuFei.
"Good evening. I hope I'm not disturbing you," Mr. Winner whispered politely.
"Not at all, sir," WuFei replied, his gaze still fixed onto the statue.
"May... may I ask you a question?"
The chinese blinked, and turned to look at the old man, curiosity in his eyes.
"Do... you think I'm being... too hard on Quatre?"
"Yes," he replied without hesitation.
"Oh," ashamed, Iman looked down, and stared at his lap.
"I understand your point of view," WuFei continued, "but I would never choose anything above family... not even honour or justice. I'd do anything for my family, if I still had one."
"I'm sorry..." Iman replied, not knowing what else to say.
Looking back up at the figure of Jesus, the chinese said, "I'm not really a christian - or anything else. But I felt compelled to pray to Quatre's god for his health. He doesn't have a lot of time left. He had lied about his condition - to all of us, and I'm afraid that..." Even though he hadn't finished the sentence, Mr. Winner knew what he had meant.
After a moment's silence, he asked, "What time is it?"
"23:17"
"Then I must hurry."
Watching Mr. Winner quickly get up and exit the chapel, WuFei could not help but smile. He knew where the old man was headed.
Bowing in respect before the alter (2) before leaving, he too exited the building, and made a direct route through the cold winter night.
---------
(1) I'm doing this from memory so, if I got something wrong in the Bible,
sorry. This is not supposed to offend anyone, but if it is
wrong, I'm going to keep it that way because it fits into the plot.
(2) I know you're not supposed to worship an image of God but a) it
was an image of Jesus and b) WuFei didn't know that.