Author: Sphynx
Title: A Light in the Darkness 4/?
Pairings: 3+4 (mwahahaha…It's almost here…FINALLY)
Warnings: Angst, mental ward
Disclaimers: *takes a deep breath* They aren't mine, these loverly boys. Yep…Now I'm going to go resign myself to that fact. *goes off and cries quietly for a moment or two*
Notes: Ok, I really don't know how long this will be. But long it will be. I have created St. Julien's Hospital for War-Related Illnesses, and the policies of the staff are based on both personal experience (mine and other people's) and my imagination. So don't say they would do it another way.
After their first conversation, Quatre came to the hospital almost every day to visit Trowa. They would walk, talking, through the ward, or even outside as Trowa made more and more progress. Some days they would sit by the window in Trowa's room, Quatre reading aloud from various books. They were falling into a friendship more intimate than most, letting their feelings progress gradually. The weeks drifted away.
Trowa's condition grew better as the weeks went by. Nurses smiled at Quatre whenever he came. Eric, who had become a friend to Quatre in the short time since he had first brought Quatre to the ward, answered Quatre's inquiry as to why the nurses were so nice.
"It's because you have been such a blessing to Trowa. He seems so much happier now than ever before. I don't know what you did, but he's talking now, and expressing his emotions more openly. Well, more openly for him."
Eric was so cheerful about this, but Quatre felt immense guilt. If only I had called him after the war, he would never have had to come here in the first place. Guilt played through his mind, eating away at his conscience.
Trowa noticed one day that Quatre was more quiet than usual.
"Quatre, please. Tell me what is wrong. Every time you come here you seem more withdrawn than the last." Concern colored Trowa's words.
"I can't help but think you being here is all my fault. And I think about how terrible it must be for you."
"It has been bad, Quatre, but don't blame yourself. You didn't know. I've learned a lot here. My time here hasn't been wasted."
Quatre thought on Trowa's words. Quatre knew that therapy had done Trowa a world of good; Trowa seemed so much more open now than he did in the war. It was this that kept guilt at bay for Quatre, allowing him to accept what had happened, and look forward to a future.
Catherine would come occasionally on one of her infrequent visits, and Quatre would let the two alone. One time, Catherine stopped Quatre before he left, pulling him into the hall.
"Quatre, when I first heard you came here to visit Trowa, I wanted to hurt you. I thought his being here was your fault to begin with. And then you came here again, and I didn't want to see you hurt him. Did you know he had a setback the day after you came that first time? He didn't come out of his room until you came again, the doctors say. But he's doing better. I've never seen him this peaceful. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't screw up. If you hurt him like you did before…" She let the threat trail off as she saw the look on Quatre's face.
"I'm sorry Catherine. I didn't know." The look on Quatre's face was heartbreaking; a mixture of guilt, pain, and grief. His voice as he spoke was soft, with pain edging his words with emotions.
Catherine opened her mouth to say something but Trowa's voice cut in. "Cathy, don't lecture Quatre, he's been through enough."
"And you haven't?" Catherine shot, getting the last word in that respect.
"Quatre, are you really going so soon? We were right in the middle of a chapter." There was desperation in Trowa's voice, wanting everything to be all right again.
"I'll stay if you want me to."
Title: A Light in the Darkness 4/?
Pairings: 3+4 (mwahahaha…It's almost here…FINALLY)
Warnings: Angst, mental ward
Disclaimers: *takes a deep breath* They aren't mine, these loverly boys. Yep…Now I'm going to go resign myself to that fact. *goes off and cries quietly for a moment or two*
Notes: Ok, I really don't know how long this will be. But long it will be. I have created St. Julien's Hospital for War-Related Illnesses, and the policies of the staff are based on both personal experience (mine and other people's) and my imagination. So don't say they would do it another way.
After their first conversation, Quatre came to the hospital almost every day to visit Trowa. They would walk, talking, through the ward, or even outside as Trowa made more and more progress. Some days they would sit by the window in Trowa's room, Quatre reading aloud from various books. They were falling into a friendship more intimate than most, letting their feelings progress gradually. The weeks drifted away.
Trowa's condition grew better as the weeks went by. Nurses smiled at Quatre whenever he came. Eric, who had become a friend to Quatre in the short time since he had first brought Quatre to the ward, answered Quatre's inquiry as to why the nurses were so nice.
"It's because you have been such a blessing to Trowa. He seems so much happier now than ever before. I don't know what you did, but he's talking now, and expressing his emotions more openly. Well, more openly for him."
Eric was so cheerful about this, but Quatre felt immense guilt. If only I had called him after the war, he would never have had to come here in the first place. Guilt played through his mind, eating away at his conscience.
Trowa noticed one day that Quatre was more quiet than usual.
"Quatre, please. Tell me what is wrong. Every time you come here you seem more withdrawn than the last." Concern colored Trowa's words.
"I can't help but think you being here is all my fault. And I think about how terrible it must be for you."
"It has been bad, Quatre, but don't blame yourself. You didn't know. I've learned a lot here. My time here hasn't been wasted."
Quatre thought on Trowa's words. Quatre knew that therapy had done Trowa a world of good; Trowa seemed so much more open now than he did in the war. It was this that kept guilt at bay for Quatre, allowing him to accept what had happened, and look forward to a future.
Catherine would come occasionally on one of her infrequent visits, and Quatre would let the two alone. One time, Catherine stopped Quatre before he left, pulling him into the hall.
"Quatre, when I first heard you came here to visit Trowa, I wanted to hurt you. I thought his being here was your fault to begin with. And then you came here again, and I didn't want to see you hurt him. Did you know he had a setback the day after you came that first time? He didn't come out of his room until you came again, the doctors say. But he's doing better. I've never seen him this peaceful. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't screw up. If you hurt him like you did before…" She let the threat trail off as she saw the look on Quatre's face.
"I'm sorry Catherine. I didn't know." The look on Quatre's face was heartbreaking; a mixture of guilt, pain, and grief. His voice as he spoke was soft, with pain edging his words with emotions.
Catherine opened her mouth to say something but Trowa's voice cut in. "Cathy, don't lecture Quatre, he's been through enough."
"And you haven't?" Catherine shot, getting the last word in that respect.
"Quatre, are you really going so soon? We were right in the middle of a chapter." There was desperation in Trowa's voice, wanting everything to be all right again.
"I'll stay if you want me to."