Chapter 3
Once again, Quatre found himself being pulled out of his peaceful sleep by coarse noises on the reality side of consciousness. His eyes fluttered open and he blinked the blur out of his sight. A glowing television hanging from the wall attracted his attention; it was the only light shinning in the dark of the apparent night. In the confusion of wakening, Quatre was engrossed with the TV: an Asian woman gave statistics of dead and wounded from a recent battle, then preceded to present footage of the traumatizing event. It was a mobile suit fight. Suddenly the screen flashed off.
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake ya," a croaking voice came from his right.
"Duo?!" Quatre sat up quickly, his wound giving a little jab of pain in protest to the movement.. Yet still, his eyes searched blindly in the darkness. A lamp clicked into life.
"Yo."
Lying in his white sheeted bed, Duo smiled, his skin a nauseous gray hue. Quatre silently praised the gods; he was sure in those few moments that he remained cognizant before the sleeping drug took affect that when he woke, it would be to find Duo stiff with death. Remembering his fall the previous time he endeavored to jump out of bed, Quatre shoved his sheets off and carefully tested his balance. Discovering that his legs were weakened, probably by the drugs, he was forced to crawl on his knees to his friend's side.
Duo looked even worse up close. His eyes were a tad sunken into their sockets and his face no longer paraded happy pinkish cheeks. Quatre kneeled at his bed side and reached between the icy guard rails to take hold of Duo's thin hand.
"What's up with you?" Duo asked, sounding tiredly nonchalant, yet without moving anything but his head, as if the rest of his body were glued down. Quatre smiled.
"Well, I haven't been feeling too well. I was injured in the battle, did you know? This bandage isn't just for show," he explained while Duo gave a weak smile. "Oh yeah," he continued. "I also thought you might have died."
Quatre looked anxiously into Duo's eyes. "What happened? How could you have been so careless in such a fierce engagement? And what was going on this morning? The doctors were frantic, but would not even give me a hint." Duo's face fell hard and for a moment he looked confused.
"Oh, well, they aren't too sure," Duo's purple eyes strayed to the blank television. "They said I must have spass-ed in my sleep and pulled out my blood AND water I.V.s, though I really don't see how the hell I did that." His eyebrows flurried for a moment. "Yeah, Trowa left a note; it said they couldn't stay any longer and were called out for something or other. It's around here somewhere . . ." he trailed off, but Quatre could not care less about the note. They would rendezvous with the rest of the pilots when they both were suited for it, not a moment sooner.
The two boys talked a few minutes longer before they could see the tiredness in each other's eyes. Duo told him to "get off the frickin' cold floor," but Quatre would not move. He pulled the blanket from his bed and sat resting against Duo's bed until he thought Duo had fallen into sleep again. In his vigilance, Quatre himself was next to sleep, until a tired voice croaked from the bed: "Quatre? Do you think you could help me with something?"
His head popped up, immediately awake with his friend's request. "Of course. What do you need?"
"Well, I've been laying on my braid for a few hours and it feels nasty. Do you feel good enough to brush it out?"
Quatre stood up. "Do you feel strong enough to sit?" Duo smiled and slowly raised himself up on his elbows. He stayed there for a moment and sighed.
"I just need a little push, once I'm up I'll be fine."
Quatre felt doubtful, but helped him sit up nonetheless. Sitting behind his friend, Quatre untied and loosened his braid. Conveniently, in the drawer of the side table laid a brush, which he took up and began brushing out the numerous knots and kinks from Duo's long, chestnut brown hair.
The whole time the boys sat in silence, Duo slumped forward with watery eyes, though this was unknown to Quatre.
----------------------------------------------------------
Odd as they both may have felt, after Quatre had finished re-braiding Duo's hair, he hadn't the strength (of body or mind) to return to his bed. They agreed that, in this situation, it would not be too weird if they shared a bunk. Narrow and thin as the bed was, they were both mature sixteen year olds and could mentally handle it. Plus, the room grew ever more chilly as the night drug on, and the conservation of body heat is imperative for a healthy recovery.
Lying still awake, Quatre attempted every trick to falling asleep that he had learned as a child, but none worked. Yes, he was tired, but sleep did not reach out in pity to his weary mind. Though the room was dark, Quatre's eyes could still catch the shapes of the furniture and the shine on the glass from the street lights. Thinking of anything to put him to sleep, anything but the warm, slow breathing form beside him, he tested his knowledge of chemicals, striving to identify the smell in the air. It was definitely not a pleasant smell, but not terribly unpleasant either.
While he had been laying in silence, except for the soft noises of air entering and exiting their lungs, the sudden thudding pattern of shoes in the hallway startled him. A light fluttered on out side the swinging doors, and a feminine silhouette appeared in the window. Quatre was suddenly trounced by a wave of embarrassment, sharing a bed with his friend, and he quickly rolled to his side and pretended to be sleep.
The clacking shoes continued into the room and stopped a ways from their bed. Quatre felt the person's eyes burning into him and his face flushed bright pink. *Well, I don't think sleeping people blush. This isn't going to work!* Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked toward the light, imitating a waking person interested in the cause to the end of his sleep.
Remembering her from the night before, Quatre recognized the nurse's long curls cascading down upon her shoulders. Though she wore the same white jacket and thin-framed glasses, the young nurse seemed different from before, as if her feet owned the ground it stood upon. Tonight, she carried a metal tray loaded with two covered, steaming plates and little juice boxes.
"I thought you may be awake, Winner," the nurse smiled, placing the tray on the side table in between Quatre's and Duo's beds.
"Oh well, I was just resting a while. Duo asked me to braid his hair and I was too tired to go back to my. . ." While trying to explain, Quatre's checks reached new shades of pink and red. The nurse smiled.
"Well, do you feel up to eating your dinner?" she interrupted. "You slept right through it and you should eat something." She looked rather anxiously toward Duo. "Both of you."
Seeing that she meant to wake him, Quatre suggested that he sleep longer, assuring her that he could eat breakfast, lunch AND dinner tomorrow. Agreeing, the young nurse removed one of the plates and juice boxes and handed the remaining on the tray to Quatre. He sat on the edge of Duo's bed, still flushed red, with his legs crossed underneath him and carefully uncovered his steaming dinner. After living off of M.R.E.s for weeks while on mission, the plate full of mashed potatoes, green beans and polish sausages made his mouth water. The slender nurse took the waiting seat and watched (to his dismay) Quatre enjoying his dinner.
Halfway through the beans, it occurred to Quatre that he did not know anything about this woman, staring at him as he chewed, least of all her name. She seemed so different from when he had mistook her for a doctor. Before her hair was pinned into a simple bun, now it swayed free and loose and her lips sparkled with pink lip gloss.
He cleared his throat. "Miss, I was just wondering what your name was. I don't think that we had been properly introduced." She continued to stare at him and, if possible, he turned even redder in the face.
"I should check you for a fever, Winner, you look like you may have a temperature." She uncrossed her long legs and stood up. "I'll be right back with a thermometer," she announced and left.
Quatre sat, dumbfounded, with his fork halfway to his mouth. He could not believe the rudeness she had shown toward his inquiry, and why did she call him "Winner?" As he contemplated this, Duo twitched in his sleep. Quatre turned to his friend, who twitched twice more, obliviously beginning to wake. Setting the tray on the side table, Quatre winced as the wound on his head reminded him of its existence.
Duo's eyelids quivered open, and Quatre meet his purple eyes with something of a look of gratitude. Being alone with the strange young nurse in the depth of the night unnerved Quatre; with Duo awake, he would not feel so awkward.
Not understanding the look in Quatre's eyes, Duo smiled tiredly. Quatre noticed that his friend's skin tone had almost returned to normal and his eyes, though displaying exhaustion, were brighter than before.
"Do I smell sausage?" Duo asked, sniffing the air with interest. Quatre laughed. Before he could answer though, the sound of clacking shoes again echoed through the hall way, and the white coated nurse pushed through the doors.
"Hellooo, nurse!" Duo whistled, though still sounding half asleep.
The nurse smiled good-naturedly. "Its good to see you are back to yourself, Maxwell." Duo raised his eyebrows confusedly. Worried that struggling to 'figure out' the nurse's personality and intentions would cause Duo's health to regress, Quatre inwardly wished that she soon would leave. But that did not seem likely.
"Well, since you are awake, you should eat dinner. It should still be warm," She clacked her shoes across the floor to retrieve the other plate and juice and clacked back to present it to Duo, who cautiously sat up to greet her. He took the plate and, forgetting the nurse's dubious nature, hurriedly removed the cover.
"It IS sausage!"
While Duo ate his dinner as fast as he could in his state, the nurse approached Quatre, eyeing his head wrap. She reached behind his head, unfastening the metal hooks, and presenting her chest a little too close to his face. Again, Quatre blushed, and looked away, noticing Duo giving him a gray-fingered thumbs up.
"Well, your head wound will be healed soon. Are you experiencing sudden head aches? Of course. I'll issue you some aspirin, but you should stay another night in the hospital. Perhaps this time in your own bed." Quatre wished that he would instantly pass out; his entire face glowed red.
"Hey," Duo retorted. "You are just jealous that you wouldn't fit in this bed too."
*Duo! You are so crude sometimes!* Quatre thought, his face smoldering with humiliation.
The nurse smiled, closed her eyes, lowered her head, and adjusted her glasses. "My name," she suddenly announced, opening her eyes, "is Claire." Leaving the boys in utter confusion, she left, her shoes clacking down the hall.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----
[[[well well well . . . this is interesting (I guess) Yeah I threw in a
little homosexual tension, hope no one was offended . . .cause there is
gonna be lots more!!! Ha aha ha! See ya after chapter 4!]]]
Once again, Quatre found himself being pulled out of his peaceful sleep by coarse noises on the reality side of consciousness. His eyes fluttered open and he blinked the blur out of his sight. A glowing television hanging from the wall attracted his attention; it was the only light shinning in the dark of the apparent night. In the confusion of wakening, Quatre was engrossed with the TV: an Asian woman gave statistics of dead and wounded from a recent battle, then preceded to present footage of the traumatizing event. It was a mobile suit fight. Suddenly the screen flashed off.
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake ya," a croaking voice came from his right.
"Duo?!" Quatre sat up quickly, his wound giving a little jab of pain in protest to the movement.. Yet still, his eyes searched blindly in the darkness. A lamp clicked into life.
"Yo."
Lying in his white sheeted bed, Duo smiled, his skin a nauseous gray hue. Quatre silently praised the gods; he was sure in those few moments that he remained cognizant before the sleeping drug took affect that when he woke, it would be to find Duo stiff with death. Remembering his fall the previous time he endeavored to jump out of bed, Quatre shoved his sheets off and carefully tested his balance. Discovering that his legs were weakened, probably by the drugs, he was forced to crawl on his knees to his friend's side.
Duo looked even worse up close. His eyes were a tad sunken into their sockets and his face no longer paraded happy pinkish cheeks. Quatre kneeled at his bed side and reached between the icy guard rails to take hold of Duo's thin hand.
"What's up with you?" Duo asked, sounding tiredly nonchalant, yet without moving anything but his head, as if the rest of his body were glued down. Quatre smiled.
"Well, I haven't been feeling too well. I was injured in the battle, did you know? This bandage isn't just for show," he explained while Duo gave a weak smile. "Oh yeah," he continued. "I also thought you might have died."
Quatre looked anxiously into Duo's eyes. "What happened? How could you have been so careless in such a fierce engagement? And what was going on this morning? The doctors were frantic, but would not even give me a hint." Duo's face fell hard and for a moment he looked confused.
"Oh, well, they aren't too sure," Duo's purple eyes strayed to the blank television. "They said I must have spass-ed in my sleep and pulled out my blood AND water I.V.s, though I really don't see how the hell I did that." His eyebrows flurried for a moment. "Yeah, Trowa left a note; it said they couldn't stay any longer and were called out for something or other. It's around here somewhere . . ." he trailed off, but Quatre could not care less about the note. They would rendezvous with the rest of the pilots when they both were suited for it, not a moment sooner.
The two boys talked a few minutes longer before they could see the tiredness in each other's eyes. Duo told him to "get off the frickin' cold floor," but Quatre would not move. He pulled the blanket from his bed and sat resting against Duo's bed until he thought Duo had fallen into sleep again. In his vigilance, Quatre himself was next to sleep, until a tired voice croaked from the bed: "Quatre? Do you think you could help me with something?"
His head popped up, immediately awake with his friend's request. "Of course. What do you need?"
"Well, I've been laying on my braid for a few hours and it feels nasty. Do you feel good enough to brush it out?"
Quatre stood up. "Do you feel strong enough to sit?" Duo smiled and slowly raised himself up on his elbows. He stayed there for a moment and sighed.
"I just need a little push, once I'm up I'll be fine."
Quatre felt doubtful, but helped him sit up nonetheless. Sitting behind his friend, Quatre untied and loosened his braid. Conveniently, in the drawer of the side table laid a brush, which he took up and began brushing out the numerous knots and kinks from Duo's long, chestnut brown hair.
The whole time the boys sat in silence, Duo slumped forward with watery eyes, though this was unknown to Quatre.
----------------------------------------------------------
Odd as they both may have felt, after Quatre had finished re-braiding Duo's hair, he hadn't the strength (of body or mind) to return to his bed. They agreed that, in this situation, it would not be too weird if they shared a bunk. Narrow and thin as the bed was, they were both mature sixteen year olds and could mentally handle it. Plus, the room grew ever more chilly as the night drug on, and the conservation of body heat is imperative for a healthy recovery.
Lying still awake, Quatre attempted every trick to falling asleep that he had learned as a child, but none worked. Yes, he was tired, but sleep did not reach out in pity to his weary mind. Though the room was dark, Quatre's eyes could still catch the shapes of the furniture and the shine on the glass from the street lights. Thinking of anything to put him to sleep, anything but the warm, slow breathing form beside him, he tested his knowledge of chemicals, striving to identify the smell in the air. It was definitely not a pleasant smell, but not terribly unpleasant either.
While he had been laying in silence, except for the soft noises of air entering and exiting their lungs, the sudden thudding pattern of shoes in the hallway startled him. A light fluttered on out side the swinging doors, and a feminine silhouette appeared in the window. Quatre was suddenly trounced by a wave of embarrassment, sharing a bed with his friend, and he quickly rolled to his side and pretended to be sleep.
The clacking shoes continued into the room and stopped a ways from their bed. Quatre felt the person's eyes burning into him and his face flushed bright pink. *Well, I don't think sleeping people blush. This isn't going to work!* Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked toward the light, imitating a waking person interested in the cause to the end of his sleep.
Remembering her from the night before, Quatre recognized the nurse's long curls cascading down upon her shoulders. Though she wore the same white jacket and thin-framed glasses, the young nurse seemed different from before, as if her feet owned the ground it stood upon. Tonight, she carried a metal tray loaded with two covered, steaming plates and little juice boxes.
"I thought you may be awake, Winner," the nurse smiled, placing the tray on the side table in between Quatre's and Duo's beds.
"Oh well, I was just resting a while. Duo asked me to braid his hair and I was too tired to go back to my. . ." While trying to explain, Quatre's checks reached new shades of pink and red. The nurse smiled.
"Well, do you feel up to eating your dinner?" she interrupted. "You slept right through it and you should eat something." She looked rather anxiously toward Duo. "Both of you."
Seeing that she meant to wake him, Quatre suggested that he sleep longer, assuring her that he could eat breakfast, lunch AND dinner tomorrow. Agreeing, the young nurse removed one of the plates and juice boxes and handed the remaining on the tray to Quatre. He sat on the edge of Duo's bed, still flushed red, with his legs crossed underneath him and carefully uncovered his steaming dinner. After living off of M.R.E.s for weeks while on mission, the plate full of mashed potatoes, green beans and polish sausages made his mouth water. The slender nurse took the waiting seat and watched (to his dismay) Quatre enjoying his dinner.
Halfway through the beans, it occurred to Quatre that he did not know anything about this woman, staring at him as he chewed, least of all her name. She seemed so different from when he had mistook her for a doctor. Before her hair was pinned into a simple bun, now it swayed free and loose and her lips sparkled with pink lip gloss.
He cleared his throat. "Miss, I was just wondering what your name was. I don't think that we had been properly introduced." She continued to stare at him and, if possible, he turned even redder in the face.
"I should check you for a fever, Winner, you look like you may have a temperature." She uncrossed her long legs and stood up. "I'll be right back with a thermometer," she announced and left.
Quatre sat, dumbfounded, with his fork halfway to his mouth. He could not believe the rudeness she had shown toward his inquiry, and why did she call him "Winner?" As he contemplated this, Duo twitched in his sleep. Quatre turned to his friend, who twitched twice more, obliviously beginning to wake. Setting the tray on the side table, Quatre winced as the wound on his head reminded him of its existence.
Duo's eyelids quivered open, and Quatre meet his purple eyes with something of a look of gratitude. Being alone with the strange young nurse in the depth of the night unnerved Quatre; with Duo awake, he would not feel so awkward.
Not understanding the look in Quatre's eyes, Duo smiled tiredly. Quatre noticed that his friend's skin tone had almost returned to normal and his eyes, though displaying exhaustion, were brighter than before.
"Do I smell sausage?" Duo asked, sniffing the air with interest. Quatre laughed. Before he could answer though, the sound of clacking shoes again echoed through the hall way, and the white coated nurse pushed through the doors.
"Hellooo, nurse!" Duo whistled, though still sounding half asleep.
The nurse smiled good-naturedly. "Its good to see you are back to yourself, Maxwell." Duo raised his eyebrows confusedly. Worried that struggling to 'figure out' the nurse's personality and intentions would cause Duo's health to regress, Quatre inwardly wished that she soon would leave. But that did not seem likely.
"Well, since you are awake, you should eat dinner. It should still be warm," She clacked her shoes across the floor to retrieve the other plate and juice and clacked back to present it to Duo, who cautiously sat up to greet her. He took the plate and, forgetting the nurse's dubious nature, hurriedly removed the cover.
"It IS sausage!"
While Duo ate his dinner as fast as he could in his state, the nurse approached Quatre, eyeing his head wrap. She reached behind his head, unfastening the metal hooks, and presenting her chest a little too close to his face. Again, Quatre blushed, and looked away, noticing Duo giving him a gray-fingered thumbs up.
"Well, your head wound will be healed soon. Are you experiencing sudden head aches? Of course. I'll issue you some aspirin, but you should stay another night in the hospital. Perhaps this time in your own bed." Quatre wished that he would instantly pass out; his entire face glowed red.
"Hey," Duo retorted. "You are just jealous that you wouldn't fit in this bed too."
*Duo! You are so crude sometimes!* Quatre thought, his face smoldering with humiliation.
The nurse smiled, closed her eyes, lowered her head, and adjusted her glasses. "My name," she suddenly announced, opening her eyes, "is Claire." Leaving the boys in utter confusion, she left, her shoes clacking down the hall.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----
[[[well well well . . . this is interesting (I guess) Yeah I threw in a
little homosexual tension, hope no one was offended . . .cause there is
gonna be lots more!!! Ha aha ha! See ya after chapter 4!]]]
