* * *
When the door moved aside, Trowa watched Quatre hurry through, impatient to get to the children. Sally stood directly in front of the doorway; a hyperspray extended toward them.
He heard Quatre sigh before reaching out to take the medication. He beat Quatre to it. His lover may have been right about his tendency to over protect, but more to the point was Quatre's tendency to avoid whatever would make the pain stop.
He shook his head at Quatre's slight protest before adjusting the dosage to about a forth of the full amount. But as he reached for Quatre, his lover took an unconscious step back away from him. Trowa understood, he hadn't seen him lower the dosage, he'd done it too quickly--to accustomed to doing the same thing pertaining to his own medications. Sadness washed over him. Quatre really did believe that he'd give him the higher dose when he wasn't paying attention.
But suddenly Quatre scoffed and shook his head before turning bright blue- green eyes on him. "Sorry about that, Trowa. Vision's getting a little spotty, and I wasn't sure what you were doing. Let me get this shirt off."
He knew he should be appeased, but as Trowa pushed Quatre's hands away from the buttons on his silk shirt, he couldn't help but wonder when Quatre had ever begun doubting his actions in the first place. He tried to think back to before the past few months, but it seemed even then, Quatre had never questioned his actions or motivations. The only time he ever remembered Quatre protesting had been-
"God!" A strangled gasp issued from Quatre's mouth before the blonde doubled over in pain, protecting his injured arm with the curl of his body. Trowa was supporting him immediately.
"Quatre, are you alright?" Worry evident in his voice, Trowa thought about his recent switch from stoic pilot to emotional lover; he wasn't entirely sure he liked the change.
After a few more gasping breaths, Quatre nodded his head weakly before standing on shaky legs and leaning heavily against him. Together, they managed to get the long sleeve over the injured arm without jarring Quatre's body further.
When the shirt was off, Quatre breathed a sigh of relief before looking up at him. There was no doubt in Trowa's mind that Quatre was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. Delicate and graceful, strong and proud, his partner was a neat package of everything he'd thought he'd never have in life. But as he took the moment afforded him, Trowa wasn't quite as certain that Quatre was as beautiful as he remembered. There were so many things different about his lover--different in both good and bad ways. What Trowa couldn't figure out was did the good outweigh the bad?
Quatre's voice was a strained whisper when he finally spoke. "Maybe you should add a little more to that." He indicated the dispenser.
Nodding, he shifted and adjusted the container to a third before moving it to Quatre's good arm and releasing the still-higher-than-standard dose of morphine. Quatre closed his eyes for the injection, but Trowa saw the relief enter them the moment the medication entered his system; it took about thirty seconds to activate, but Quatre obviously needed it.
"Thank you, Trowa."
He nodded. What more was there to say?
Handing the device back to Sally, he stood beside Quatre--his lover, partner, and family, and wondered who Quatre had become.
"Quatre?" Corinne approached the edge of the couch, and Quatre slowly lifted his head and offered a polite smile. "I think it only fair to inform you now that you are-as of this moment-off the duty roster indefinitely. Sally was going to put you on for light paperwork, but I've vetoed that idea."
"What?! Corinne you can't. I'm fi-" With the force of an oncoming train, the morphine slammed into Quatre's system, and it was all Trowa could do to catch him before he hit the ground. The dose wasn't overly heavy, but Quatre's body had needed it so desperately it'd completely overwhelmed him. And Trowa knew that Corinne knew it would.
"You told him on the cusp of the high." There was a note of awe in his voice.
"Yeah, aren't I evil? This way he won't fight back. But I was serious he's off until I say otherwise." Her voice was humorous but held no note of discussion; she expected Quatre to do what he was told. Trowa nodded.
"I'll remind him if he's forgotten in the morning."
It must have been his voice or maybe the fact that she was an empath keyed her in, but Corinne was at his side in a moment, her eyes searching. "Trowa?"
"Not now." His voice was crisp and cold; he couldn't deal with it all right now.
Reluctantly, she nodded.
"Why-why is it-whenever I wake up, you're-always in his mind-Corinne?" Quatre was coming around, the worst of the high having already worn off under the pain of his arm. It didn't take a genius to realize just how much pain Quatre was in.
"You know me, Quatre, always looking for a challenge. Besides, Trowa has such an interesting mind to be walking around in."
Quatre opened his eyes and glared at her, his voice almost threatening, "I know. It's mine. Get out of it." Trowa couldn't help the feeling that stole over him at Quatre's possessive tone. It made him feel loved and protected; it made him remember what the old Quatre had been like. He'd always felt protected, loved, and cherished, and Quatre had always made it abundantly clear that while Trowa was a free man, the rest of the world believed him to be only Quatre's. He couldn't recall the number of times he looked into a mirror and thought of himself as belonging, as being owned- in a wonderful and safe way-to the most amazing man in the world. But now as he looked at Quatre he realized the possessiveness was far and fleeting. Quatre too often needed him to be the one to offer those things; and like a good lover, he'd become what was needed of him. He felt the euphoria start to wear away.
"Yes sir, oh, over possessive one. I was just making sure your fall hadn't damaged him mentally."
That slammed Quatre back into reality, and he sat up as best he could before turning near panicked eyes on Trowa. And then they were gone, those feelings of love and protection Trowa had had--disappeared, replaced by Quatre's searching look of fear. He pushed the implications of that thought from his mind; now was not the time.
"Trowa, are you alright? I didn't hurt you did I?"
He shook his head. "I'm fine. Are you hurt?"
Relaxing, Quatre scoffed again. "Even if I were, I'm not sure I'd feel it." He offered a faint smile, which Trowa returned. Shifting, he pulled them both up before steadying Quatre on his feet. It wasn't even a full minute before Quatre turned to Lady. "Where are they?" She indicated the spare room he'd had prepared for them and together they made their way over to the door before keying in the pass and stepping through.
Two children sat in white tee-shirts on the cover of the bed. Trowa smiled, recognizing his own shirts. Duo caught the look.
"Hey, man, it was for a good cause; and it's not as if Quatre would let you leave the house in a tee-shirt, anyway. That's more my man's downfall." Duo rolled his eyes, and Trowa felt relief at hearing Quatre chuckle. "How ya doing, Q?"
Quatre nodded. "Better. We should put these tired kids to bed though, don't you think?"
The double implication was there, and Duo caught the tired look in Quatre's eyes. Without hesitation Duo turned to the children. "Ok, you two rug- rats, get under the covers so Grandpa Quatre can tell you a story. I'd tell the story, but honestly, my kinds of stories are a lot funnier when everyone's drunk. Trust me."
Trowa couldn't help the smile as he released Quatre, his blonde lover moving to sit on the bed now occupied by two very tired children. He watched Shingam yawn and for a moment understood why Quatre felt such love and responsibility towards them. They were alone in a world that had done nothing but hurt them, and now they looked to Quatre for some sense of comfort, it was a heady experience.
He drew the connection between himself and the children instantly. Moving into the corner, he watched his lover carefully as he remembered Quatre using many of the same actions and phrases on him when Quatre had first tried to draw him from his pain-ridden past.
"You know, the both of you were very brave today. I'm very proud of you."
"I know that was hard to tell me, Trowa. You a very strong person to have shared that with me. I'm so glad you wanted me to know."
"I know it wasn't easy for the two of you to trust me or even my friends, but you both did very, very well."
"I know it's hard for you to tell me some things, Trowa. But you trusted me today with something you never have before. I'm so proud of you and thankful."
"Everything is going to be alright. I'll take care of you."
"Everything is going to be alright, Trowa. I'll always take care of you."
"I love you both very much."
"I love you, Trowa. You and never anyone else."
Quatre continued to talk, but the words of his past haunted his present. He wasn't jealous of the children; how could he be? But to them, Quatre seemed so strong, so capable; and yet now, to him, Quatre seemed not even capable of taking care of himself. His mind knew that wasn't entirely true, that Quatre had said he was going to come to him; but he couldn't shake the idea that the old Quatre wouldn't have needed to come to him. The old Quatre would have never even let him know something was wrong. It was a false sense of strength and Quatre had sacrificed so much to give him that ounce of comfort, that one lack of worry. But could he honestly say he didn't wish it were like it had been? Quatre, so strong and able, willing to do and be whatever he'd needed of him. He'd seemed like a god in those days, an angel sent from heaven to give him some measure of comfort he'd never had time to realize in his short life. Why did he now look at Quatre and wish for the way things once were, where he was the one receiving the comfort and care, and Quatre was the one who gave it in abundance? What was wrong with him?
"Trowa?" Quatre's soft voice crossed his troubled thoughts and he was startled to see Quatre standing before him a look of concern on his face. "Are you alright, beloved?"
Concern--for him. His heart rose at the thought.
He nodded his head.
Quatre offered a slight smile. "Drifting away into Never-Never Land? I thought I'd taught you better than that?"
He had once.
"Come on, let's let them sleep." Quatre took his hand and pulled him away from the wall. Together they moved for the door; but a small voice stopped them in their tracks.
"Trowa?"
Together they turned at Shingam's hesitant and quiet call.
"Yes, Shingam?"
"Sometimes it's hard to decide which one's better--the past or the future."
Eyes wide in shock, Trowa nearly took a step back as his earlier thoughts raced through his mind. He glanced quickly to Quatre, praying the link did not open and expose his traitorous thoughts to his lover.
For a moment, Quatre stood stock still before glancing at him. And for the first time in his life, Trowa was thankful for the bangs that hid half of his face--thankful for a way to hide from his lover's questioning gaze.
But Quatre had only been looking for a note of understanding, and when he'd supplied none, the blonde turned back to the boy who lay in the bed, one white haired girl wrapped around his body, watching them both with crystal clear green eyes.
"What do you mean, Shingam? Trowa and I don't understand."
The boy shook his head, indicating there was nothing more to say on the matter. But his next lines both stunned and relieved them all.
"Quatre? In the morning, you can talk to Killa. I'll still answer for her, but you can talk to her. And.and you can call her Killa. Just you, no one else." His voice seemed to dare the others to protest, but Quatre only nodded his head and offered a warm smile to the boy.
"Thank you, Shingam. I'll see you both in the morning. Goodnight."
Together, they exited the dim room and entered the sitting room. The three women and Wufei sat in chairs surrounding the coffee table Quatre had purchased in Baghdad; the piece, being many thousands of years old, held carvings of forgotten ceremonies and a depiction of heaven. "Trowa, we need to surround ourselves with as many pictures of heaven as we can; it may be the only way we'll ever be allowed to see it." At the forgotten memory, Trowa tightened his grip about Quatre's shoulders before guiding him towards the empty couch.
Once seated, Sally wasted no time.
Handing him the injector, she indicated Quatre's good arm before his blonde lover could protest. "Hit him with the rest of it. And, Quatre, don't you dare complain. I'm so royally pissed at you! You have no idea."
"Sally, I didn't mean-"
"Not now, Quatre! Anything you say will only tick me off even more."
Nodding reluctantly, Quatre didn't protest when Sally gingerly-but with more force than necessary-lifted Quatre's injured arm up and into the light. She was searching for the bandage's edge by the time Trowa had the morphine racing through Quatre's system.
Turning amused eyes on him, Quatre commented. "Why, Trowa, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted to knock me out with that thing." He offered a returning smile, but even to him it seemed dry and raw.
He heard Sally's exclamation of "Finally," before he saw her unwrapping the bandages. He turned back to Quatre, feeling a sense of needing to comfort his partner. "The children seem well; like they're adjusting."
Quatre nodded. "I don't think it will take quite as-"
"SHIT!"
Surprised by Sally's uncharacteristic outburst, the entire room turned to her. What Trowa saw made his stomach lurch.
Sally held Quatre's arm with the utmost care now. The bandages had been peeled away only to reveal a sickening sight. An obvious secondary infection had claimed Quatre's arm, and it was swollen, the white blisters broken, weeping discolored fluids.
He heard Quatre's groan before the blonde turned away from his infected arm and into Trowa's shoulder. "I hate this."
Bringing up his hand that was not wrapped about Quatre's shoulder, Trowa covered Quatre's eyes and leaned down to whisper quietly into his hair. "It'll be alright, Quatre. It'll be alright." His lover nodded before pulling back. Sally took advantage of the moment.
"There is no way in hell this could even be considered bearable! Damn it, Quatre! You can't keep doing this to yourself!" Trowa couldn't have said it better.
"I know, Sally. I didn't think it was-"
"That's right, you didn't think! This isn't something you can play at, Quatre this is your life we're talking about! This type of infection gets people killed by their own stupidity! Damn it!"
"Sally, I'm sor-"
"Growup, Quatre, and start thinking about the people who are being forced to take care of you!"
The words stung Quatre brutally. He could feel the self contempt slam against the barriers of the closed link. Try as he might, though, Trowa couldn't seem to feel much sympathy towards his lover. Sally had a point-- one he'd tried not to dwell on since this whole mess had begun.
Then, like a wave of warm air, Trowa felt the morphine cascade against the link, washing against it and threatening to crash it down. In his arms, Quatre breathed a great sigh of relief before dropping his head against Trowa's shoulder and surrendering to the narcotic.
Worry for his partner kept Trowa's free hand brushing lightly across alabaster skin, his fingers laying tracks through sun-spun streaks. He wasn't ready to let Quatre go just yet; he wasn't ready to face his own traitorous thoughts at the moment.
He didn't realize Corinne had moved to stand in front of him until she'd lain her hand on his knee. Annoyed at being startled yet again, he glared up at her.
She offered him a weak smile. "Feeling a little confused?"
He pulled back into the couch as if slapped. It angered him to think she'd been in his mind without his permission. He was about to say so when she held up a hand to stop him.
"I know what you're thinking, and it's not true. People give off emotions all the time, even when they don't want to. The only reason Quatre hasn't picked up on it yet is he's too preoccupied with those two children and his arm being eaten alive. But he's going to notice soon enough. Question is: what do you want to do about it?"
He saw Duo sit up in his perch on Heero's lap before he turned to look down at Quatre's deep breathing form. He shook his head; he didn't know the answer.
Warm fingers brushed his face before Corinne brought his eyes to meet hers. "First off, Quatre is in no danger of slipping. He isn't, and the sooner you get that though your head, the better. He knows whom he can trust-- knows without a shadow of a doubt that it's you. And he knows whom he needs to protect: his family. But what you're just starting to figure out is that Quatre's added those two children in there into his family. He didn't ask you--didn't ask if you wanted to be a father for them, but it's what he expects. It isn't right, and by no means does he even have the right to expect that from you, but the fact of the matter is, he does. And you've never had family before, Trowa it's only natural that you'd shy away from it.
"Listen to me. Quatre sees himself as their protector--a father figure, if you will. Is he making up for not having his own children--making up for his own father's failures? No doubt. But he's not going to slip. He hasn't forgotten that you're there to take care of him; he's just unwittingly taken advantage of it. And maybe some of it's your fault; by not telling him the things going on inside your head, he doesn't know what you want or need right now. But you're both making some really bad choices, and if you don't straighten it out soon, you're going to collapse under the weight of the age-old communication problem. Got it?"
He did. He understood that Quatre expected things he wasn't sure he could give, and at the same time realized Quatre had no way of knowing. But how could he explain to Quatre all that he felt when even he didn't understand it all? And more to the point, how could he tell him that he loved him more than life itself but wasn't sure who Quatre was anymore--wasn't sure if he was in love with him?
He shook his head at those thoughts.
"Trowa, we've spent so much time working on all of Quatre's problems that we neglected to really address how all of this has affected you. I'm as guilty as they come, focusing all of my energy on straightening out Quatre's life I forgot to include all of it." She smiled, indicating that he was the "it." "Ok, here's what we're going to do. Quatre's off the roster, I already told you that. But as of right now, so are you. Officially, we'll have Sally pull you off to care for Quatre; unofficially, I want to see you in my office at nine AM. You can't expect to explain how you feel to Quatre unless you know for yourself."
Corinne's continued astuteness amazed him; she really was the best.
Nodding his head, he turned to look for confirmation from Lady. The beautiful woman only rolled her eyes. "Please give me a little credit, Trowa. I've managed to pull Duo off the roster not only for three-day hangovers, but weeklong recovery time from some of his and Heero's more adventurous, couplings. I can pull you off the roster to take care of your sick partner." She offered a wink, which he returned with a smile of his own.
Duo's voice crossed the room, a strange sound of edginess adding to the humor. "Great, now that that's settled.Heero, let's go see if we can earn a week off again."
"Maxwell, I'm on to your tricks, so don't even try it." Lady offered a glaring look before she strode to the door. Turning back, she gave Trowa another smile. "It does seem sometimes to never get better but I do promise, it will." And with that she was gone.
A little while later, Sally rewrapped Quatre's arm and made Trowa promise to have Quatre come by the infirmary for another round of antibiotics and the last of the burn therapy. He'd promised and then she and Wufei left, the Shenlong pilot offering a clasp of the shoulder in passing.
Corinne left not long after extracting a promise to meet him in her office at nine the next morning. Then there was only Heero and Duo left. He watched Duo's questioning face before Heero spoke. "If you need us to help in any way, you know you can count on us. Do you want myself or Duo to come by tomorrow morning while you're with Corinne?"
Trowa shook his head. "Sally said something about Quatre sleeping until the afternoon. I'm sure he won't wake up while I'm gone. But thank you."
Nudging Duo off his lap, Heero stood and moved across the few feet to kneel in front of Trowa. "If you need me, I'm here." Nodding his thanks, Trowa accepted the offer for what it was: a shoulder to cry on, one that would never tell a soul.
"Trowa," Duo's voice cut through the comfortable silence. "That stuff Corinne was talking about--I'm not going to pry or anything-it's none of my business-but if you and Quatre really do need some time to.work through some stuff--well, Heero and I'd be more than happy to watch the kids for a while. You know, as long as you need. Actually, they're kind of cute for little rug-rats. I can see why Quatre's gotten so attached to them all of a sudden. Anyway, you'll let us know."
Trowa nodded. "Thank you."
"Oh sure, you know me--a regular helping kinda guy." Duo stood then, moving to Heero's side. Together they glanced once more at him before letting themselves out. Trowa closed his eyes, letting the plaguing doubt crash against the black backdrop of his eyelids.
"Trowa?" Stirring in his arms, Quatre tried to sit up.
"It's alright, Quatre. The children are safe. Everything is alright."
"Trowa," Quatre struggled against the fog his mind floated in. "It's different now, isn't it?"
Not sure if Quatre really knew what he was talking about, Trowa answered as best he could. "Yes, different."
"Is that bad.Trowa?"
He paused, not knowing how to answer, not knowing if there really was an answer.
"I don't know, Quatre. I don't know."
When the door moved aside, Trowa watched Quatre hurry through, impatient to get to the children. Sally stood directly in front of the doorway; a hyperspray extended toward them.
He heard Quatre sigh before reaching out to take the medication. He beat Quatre to it. His lover may have been right about his tendency to over protect, but more to the point was Quatre's tendency to avoid whatever would make the pain stop.
He shook his head at Quatre's slight protest before adjusting the dosage to about a forth of the full amount. But as he reached for Quatre, his lover took an unconscious step back away from him. Trowa understood, he hadn't seen him lower the dosage, he'd done it too quickly--to accustomed to doing the same thing pertaining to his own medications. Sadness washed over him. Quatre really did believe that he'd give him the higher dose when he wasn't paying attention.
But suddenly Quatre scoffed and shook his head before turning bright blue- green eyes on him. "Sorry about that, Trowa. Vision's getting a little spotty, and I wasn't sure what you were doing. Let me get this shirt off."
He knew he should be appeased, but as Trowa pushed Quatre's hands away from the buttons on his silk shirt, he couldn't help but wonder when Quatre had ever begun doubting his actions in the first place. He tried to think back to before the past few months, but it seemed even then, Quatre had never questioned his actions or motivations. The only time he ever remembered Quatre protesting had been-
"God!" A strangled gasp issued from Quatre's mouth before the blonde doubled over in pain, protecting his injured arm with the curl of his body. Trowa was supporting him immediately.
"Quatre, are you alright?" Worry evident in his voice, Trowa thought about his recent switch from stoic pilot to emotional lover; he wasn't entirely sure he liked the change.
After a few more gasping breaths, Quatre nodded his head weakly before standing on shaky legs and leaning heavily against him. Together, they managed to get the long sleeve over the injured arm without jarring Quatre's body further.
When the shirt was off, Quatre breathed a sigh of relief before looking up at him. There was no doubt in Trowa's mind that Quatre was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. Delicate and graceful, strong and proud, his partner was a neat package of everything he'd thought he'd never have in life. But as he took the moment afforded him, Trowa wasn't quite as certain that Quatre was as beautiful as he remembered. There were so many things different about his lover--different in both good and bad ways. What Trowa couldn't figure out was did the good outweigh the bad?
Quatre's voice was a strained whisper when he finally spoke. "Maybe you should add a little more to that." He indicated the dispenser.
Nodding, he shifted and adjusted the container to a third before moving it to Quatre's good arm and releasing the still-higher-than-standard dose of morphine. Quatre closed his eyes for the injection, but Trowa saw the relief enter them the moment the medication entered his system; it took about thirty seconds to activate, but Quatre obviously needed it.
"Thank you, Trowa."
He nodded. What more was there to say?
Handing the device back to Sally, he stood beside Quatre--his lover, partner, and family, and wondered who Quatre had become.
"Quatre?" Corinne approached the edge of the couch, and Quatre slowly lifted his head and offered a polite smile. "I think it only fair to inform you now that you are-as of this moment-off the duty roster indefinitely. Sally was going to put you on for light paperwork, but I've vetoed that idea."
"What?! Corinne you can't. I'm fi-" With the force of an oncoming train, the morphine slammed into Quatre's system, and it was all Trowa could do to catch him before he hit the ground. The dose wasn't overly heavy, but Quatre's body had needed it so desperately it'd completely overwhelmed him. And Trowa knew that Corinne knew it would.
"You told him on the cusp of the high." There was a note of awe in his voice.
"Yeah, aren't I evil? This way he won't fight back. But I was serious he's off until I say otherwise." Her voice was humorous but held no note of discussion; she expected Quatre to do what he was told. Trowa nodded.
"I'll remind him if he's forgotten in the morning."
It must have been his voice or maybe the fact that she was an empath keyed her in, but Corinne was at his side in a moment, her eyes searching. "Trowa?"
"Not now." His voice was crisp and cold; he couldn't deal with it all right now.
Reluctantly, she nodded.
"Why-why is it-whenever I wake up, you're-always in his mind-Corinne?" Quatre was coming around, the worst of the high having already worn off under the pain of his arm. It didn't take a genius to realize just how much pain Quatre was in.
"You know me, Quatre, always looking for a challenge. Besides, Trowa has such an interesting mind to be walking around in."
Quatre opened his eyes and glared at her, his voice almost threatening, "I know. It's mine. Get out of it." Trowa couldn't help the feeling that stole over him at Quatre's possessive tone. It made him feel loved and protected; it made him remember what the old Quatre had been like. He'd always felt protected, loved, and cherished, and Quatre had always made it abundantly clear that while Trowa was a free man, the rest of the world believed him to be only Quatre's. He couldn't recall the number of times he looked into a mirror and thought of himself as belonging, as being owned- in a wonderful and safe way-to the most amazing man in the world. But now as he looked at Quatre he realized the possessiveness was far and fleeting. Quatre too often needed him to be the one to offer those things; and like a good lover, he'd become what was needed of him. He felt the euphoria start to wear away.
"Yes sir, oh, over possessive one. I was just making sure your fall hadn't damaged him mentally."
That slammed Quatre back into reality, and he sat up as best he could before turning near panicked eyes on Trowa. And then they were gone, those feelings of love and protection Trowa had had--disappeared, replaced by Quatre's searching look of fear. He pushed the implications of that thought from his mind; now was not the time.
"Trowa, are you alright? I didn't hurt you did I?"
He shook his head. "I'm fine. Are you hurt?"
Relaxing, Quatre scoffed again. "Even if I were, I'm not sure I'd feel it." He offered a faint smile, which Trowa returned. Shifting, he pulled them both up before steadying Quatre on his feet. It wasn't even a full minute before Quatre turned to Lady. "Where are they?" She indicated the spare room he'd had prepared for them and together they made their way over to the door before keying in the pass and stepping through.
Two children sat in white tee-shirts on the cover of the bed. Trowa smiled, recognizing his own shirts. Duo caught the look.
"Hey, man, it was for a good cause; and it's not as if Quatre would let you leave the house in a tee-shirt, anyway. That's more my man's downfall." Duo rolled his eyes, and Trowa felt relief at hearing Quatre chuckle. "How ya doing, Q?"
Quatre nodded. "Better. We should put these tired kids to bed though, don't you think?"
The double implication was there, and Duo caught the tired look in Quatre's eyes. Without hesitation Duo turned to the children. "Ok, you two rug- rats, get under the covers so Grandpa Quatre can tell you a story. I'd tell the story, but honestly, my kinds of stories are a lot funnier when everyone's drunk. Trust me."
Trowa couldn't help the smile as he released Quatre, his blonde lover moving to sit on the bed now occupied by two very tired children. He watched Shingam yawn and for a moment understood why Quatre felt such love and responsibility towards them. They were alone in a world that had done nothing but hurt them, and now they looked to Quatre for some sense of comfort, it was a heady experience.
He drew the connection between himself and the children instantly. Moving into the corner, he watched his lover carefully as he remembered Quatre using many of the same actions and phrases on him when Quatre had first tried to draw him from his pain-ridden past.
"You know, the both of you were very brave today. I'm very proud of you."
"I know that was hard to tell me, Trowa. You a very strong person to have shared that with me. I'm so glad you wanted me to know."
"I know it wasn't easy for the two of you to trust me or even my friends, but you both did very, very well."
"I know it's hard for you to tell me some things, Trowa. But you trusted me today with something you never have before. I'm so proud of you and thankful."
"Everything is going to be alright. I'll take care of you."
"Everything is going to be alright, Trowa. I'll always take care of you."
"I love you both very much."
"I love you, Trowa. You and never anyone else."
Quatre continued to talk, but the words of his past haunted his present. He wasn't jealous of the children; how could he be? But to them, Quatre seemed so strong, so capable; and yet now, to him, Quatre seemed not even capable of taking care of himself. His mind knew that wasn't entirely true, that Quatre had said he was going to come to him; but he couldn't shake the idea that the old Quatre wouldn't have needed to come to him. The old Quatre would have never even let him know something was wrong. It was a false sense of strength and Quatre had sacrificed so much to give him that ounce of comfort, that one lack of worry. But could he honestly say he didn't wish it were like it had been? Quatre, so strong and able, willing to do and be whatever he'd needed of him. He'd seemed like a god in those days, an angel sent from heaven to give him some measure of comfort he'd never had time to realize in his short life. Why did he now look at Quatre and wish for the way things once were, where he was the one receiving the comfort and care, and Quatre was the one who gave it in abundance? What was wrong with him?
"Trowa?" Quatre's soft voice crossed his troubled thoughts and he was startled to see Quatre standing before him a look of concern on his face. "Are you alright, beloved?"
Concern--for him. His heart rose at the thought.
He nodded his head.
Quatre offered a slight smile. "Drifting away into Never-Never Land? I thought I'd taught you better than that?"
He had once.
"Come on, let's let them sleep." Quatre took his hand and pulled him away from the wall. Together they moved for the door; but a small voice stopped them in their tracks.
"Trowa?"
Together they turned at Shingam's hesitant and quiet call.
"Yes, Shingam?"
"Sometimes it's hard to decide which one's better--the past or the future."
Eyes wide in shock, Trowa nearly took a step back as his earlier thoughts raced through his mind. He glanced quickly to Quatre, praying the link did not open and expose his traitorous thoughts to his lover.
For a moment, Quatre stood stock still before glancing at him. And for the first time in his life, Trowa was thankful for the bangs that hid half of his face--thankful for a way to hide from his lover's questioning gaze.
But Quatre had only been looking for a note of understanding, and when he'd supplied none, the blonde turned back to the boy who lay in the bed, one white haired girl wrapped around his body, watching them both with crystal clear green eyes.
"What do you mean, Shingam? Trowa and I don't understand."
The boy shook his head, indicating there was nothing more to say on the matter. But his next lines both stunned and relieved them all.
"Quatre? In the morning, you can talk to Killa. I'll still answer for her, but you can talk to her. And.and you can call her Killa. Just you, no one else." His voice seemed to dare the others to protest, but Quatre only nodded his head and offered a warm smile to the boy.
"Thank you, Shingam. I'll see you both in the morning. Goodnight."
Together, they exited the dim room and entered the sitting room. The three women and Wufei sat in chairs surrounding the coffee table Quatre had purchased in Baghdad; the piece, being many thousands of years old, held carvings of forgotten ceremonies and a depiction of heaven. "Trowa, we need to surround ourselves with as many pictures of heaven as we can; it may be the only way we'll ever be allowed to see it." At the forgotten memory, Trowa tightened his grip about Quatre's shoulders before guiding him towards the empty couch.
Once seated, Sally wasted no time.
Handing him the injector, she indicated Quatre's good arm before his blonde lover could protest. "Hit him with the rest of it. And, Quatre, don't you dare complain. I'm so royally pissed at you! You have no idea."
"Sally, I didn't mean-"
"Not now, Quatre! Anything you say will only tick me off even more."
Nodding reluctantly, Quatre didn't protest when Sally gingerly-but with more force than necessary-lifted Quatre's injured arm up and into the light. She was searching for the bandage's edge by the time Trowa had the morphine racing through Quatre's system.
Turning amused eyes on him, Quatre commented. "Why, Trowa, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted to knock me out with that thing." He offered a returning smile, but even to him it seemed dry and raw.
He heard Sally's exclamation of "Finally," before he saw her unwrapping the bandages. He turned back to Quatre, feeling a sense of needing to comfort his partner. "The children seem well; like they're adjusting."
Quatre nodded. "I don't think it will take quite as-"
"SHIT!"
Surprised by Sally's uncharacteristic outburst, the entire room turned to her. What Trowa saw made his stomach lurch.
Sally held Quatre's arm with the utmost care now. The bandages had been peeled away only to reveal a sickening sight. An obvious secondary infection had claimed Quatre's arm, and it was swollen, the white blisters broken, weeping discolored fluids.
He heard Quatre's groan before the blonde turned away from his infected arm and into Trowa's shoulder. "I hate this."
Bringing up his hand that was not wrapped about Quatre's shoulder, Trowa covered Quatre's eyes and leaned down to whisper quietly into his hair. "It'll be alright, Quatre. It'll be alright." His lover nodded before pulling back. Sally took advantage of the moment.
"There is no way in hell this could even be considered bearable! Damn it, Quatre! You can't keep doing this to yourself!" Trowa couldn't have said it better.
"I know, Sally. I didn't think it was-"
"That's right, you didn't think! This isn't something you can play at, Quatre this is your life we're talking about! This type of infection gets people killed by their own stupidity! Damn it!"
"Sally, I'm sor-"
"Growup, Quatre, and start thinking about the people who are being forced to take care of you!"
The words stung Quatre brutally. He could feel the self contempt slam against the barriers of the closed link. Try as he might, though, Trowa couldn't seem to feel much sympathy towards his lover. Sally had a point-- one he'd tried not to dwell on since this whole mess had begun.
Then, like a wave of warm air, Trowa felt the morphine cascade against the link, washing against it and threatening to crash it down. In his arms, Quatre breathed a great sigh of relief before dropping his head against Trowa's shoulder and surrendering to the narcotic.
Worry for his partner kept Trowa's free hand brushing lightly across alabaster skin, his fingers laying tracks through sun-spun streaks. He wasn't ready to let Quatre go just yet; he wasn't ready to face his own traitorous thoughts at the moment.
He didn't realize Corinne had moved to stand in front of him until she'd lain her hand on his knee. Annoyed at being startled yet again, he glared up at her.
She offered him a weak smile. "Feeling a little confused?"
He pulled back into the couch as if slapped. It angered him to think she'd been in his mind without his permission. He was about to say so when she held up a hand to stop him.
"I know what you're thinking, and it's not true. People give off emotions all the time, even when they don't want to. The only reason Quatre hasn't picked up on it yet is he's too preoccupied with those two children and his arm being eaten alive. But he's going to notice soon enough. Question is: what do you want to do about it?"
He saw Duo sit up in his perch on Heero's lap before he turned to look down at Quatre's deep breathing form. He shook his head; he didn't know the answer.
Warm fingers brushed his face before Corinne brought his eyes to meet hers. "First off, Quatre is in no danger of slipping. He isn't, and the sooner you get that though your head, the better. He knows whom he can trust-- knows without a shadow of a doubt that it's you. And he knows whom he needs to protect: his family. But what you're just starting to figure out is that Quatre's added those two children in there into his family. He didn't ask you--didn't ask if you wanted to be a father for them, but it's what he expects. It isn't right, and by no means does he even have the right to expect that from you, but the fact of the matter is, he does. And you've never had family before, Trowa it's only natural that you'd shy away from it.
"Listen to me. Quatre sees himself as their protector--a father figure, if you will. Is he making up for not having his own children--making up for his own father's failures? No doubt. But he's not going to slip. He hasn't forgotten that you're there to take care of him; he's just unwittingly taken advantage of it. And maybe some of it's your fault; by not telling him the things going on inside your head, he doesn't know what you want or need right now. But you're both making some really bad choices, and if you don't straighten it out soon, you're going to collapse under the weight of the age-old communication problem. Got it?"
He did. He understood that Quatre expected things he wasn't sure he could give, and at the same time realized Quatre had no way of knowing. But how could he explain to Quatre all that he felt when even he didn't understand it all? And more to the point, how could he tell him that he loved him more than life itself but wasn't sure who Quatre was anymore--wasn't sure if he was in love with him?
He shook his head at those thoughts.
"Trowa, we've spent so much time working on all of Quatre's problems that we neglected to really address how all of this has affected you. I'm as guilty as they come, focusing all of my energy on straightening out Quatre's life I forgot to include all of it." She smiled, indicating that he was the "it." "Ok, here's what we're going to do. Quatre's off the roster, I already told you that. But as of right now, so are you. Officially, we'll have Sally pull you off to care for Quatre; unofficially, I want to see you in my office at nine AM. You can't expect to explain how you feel to Quatre unless you know for yourself."
Corinne's continued astuteness amazed him; she really was the best.
Nodding his head, he turned to look for confirmation from Lady. The beautiful woman only rolled her eyes. "Please give me a little credit, Trowa. I've managed to pull Duo off the roster not only for three-day hangovers, but weeklong recovery time from some of his and Heero's more adventurous, couplings. I can pull you off the roster to take care of your sick partner." She offered a wink, which he returned with a smile of his own.
Duo's voice crossed the room, a strange sound of edginess adding to the humor. "Great, now that that's settled.Heero, let's go see if we can earn a week off again."
"Maxwell, I'm on to your tricks, so don't even try it." Lady offered a glaring look before she strode to the door. Turning back, she gave Trowa another smile. "It does seem sometimes to never get better but I do promise, it will." And with that she was gone.
A little while later, Sally rewrapped Quatre's arm and made Trowa promise to have Quatre come by the infirmary for another round of antibiotics and the last of the burn therapy. He'd promised and then she and Wufei left, the Shenlong pilot offering a clasp of the shoulder in passing.
Corinne left not long after extracting a promise to meet him in her office at nine the next morning. Then there was only Heero and Duo left. He watched Duo's questioning face before Heero spoke. "If you need us to help in any way, you know you can count on us. Do you want myself or Duo to come by tomorrow morning while you're with Corinne?"
Trowa shook his head. "Sally said something about Quatre sleeping until the afternoon. I'm sure he won't wake up while I'm gone. But thank you."
Nudging Duo off his lap, Heero stood and moved across the few feet to kneel in front of Trowa. "If you need me, I'm here." Nodding his thanks, Trowa accepted the offer for what it was: a shoulder to cry on, one that would never tell a soul.
"Trowa," Duo's voice cut through the comfortable silence. "That stuff Corinne was talking about--I'm not going to pry or anything-it's none of my business-but if you and Quatre really do need some time to.work through some stuff--well, Heero and I'd be more than happy to watch the kids for a while. You know, as long as you need. Actually, they're kind of cute for little rug-rats. I can see why Quatre's gotten so attached to them all of a sudden. Anyway, you'll let us know."
Trowa nodded. "Thank you."
"Oh sure, you know me--a regular helping kinda guy." Duo stood then, moving to Heero's side. Together they glanced once more at him before letting themselves out. Trowa closed his eyes, letting the plaguing doubt crash against the black backdrop of his eyelids.
"Trowa?" Stirring in his arms, Quatre tried to sit up.
"It's alright, Quatre. The children are safe. Everything is alright."
"Trowa," Quatre struggled against the fog his mind floated in. "It's different now, isn't it?"
Not sure if Quatre really knew what he was talking about, Trowa answered as best he could. "Yes, different."
"Is that bad.Trowa?"
He paused, not knowing how to answer, not knowing if there really was an answer.
"I don't know, Quatre. I don't know."