Author's Note: A special thanks to Beck and Miaka for being so supportive of this fic. I really appreciate it.

Forget the Clouds

Chapter 3

Christopher Bailaha was restless.

It was a foreign feeling, something that danced along his bones and itched beneath his skin. He had always been good at stealth, able to stand perfectly still for hours without so much as a muscle twitch.

He was not so good at being agitated.

He had tried pacing but it seemed pointless after awhile. The hallway was too long and he couldn't go far from her door, some invisible string pulling him back after ten steps. His mind was jumpy, too, all sorts of thoughts swirling around in his mind in a highly unorganized manner. It grated on his nerves. He was falling to pieces and Christopher Bailaha did not fall to pieces. He was a pillar of calm, a mountain in winter, facing Death with only his axe and a rebel's smile.

He was a wreck.

He wasn't quite sure why either. He might have known if he had bothered to examine any of those thoughts bouncing around inside his skull but, somehow, he couldn't quite make himself do it. To analyze them would be to acknowledge that he had made a mistake. He was responsible… for hurting her. The one person in the world who had ever challenged his motives, who could reduce him to a child with mere words, who could make him feel as if he were needed with only a single look.

That day at the manor gates he had felt it, the power of those golden eyes. Never before had someone gone through so much just to see him, to take a chance on him. He had brushed her off, of course, ignored her. It had been the only way at the time. He knew he had to preserve her, the one who understood him and didn't seem to mind that he was incomplete. She was the same, she had said as much in the glass gorge and he had believed her. That night he had realized that she had shared some of the same pains, if perhaps in a different way. So who was he to deny her?

That day at the gate, he should have told her to go home, forget about him, but he hadn't. For once there had been someone who had truly wanted to see him, the real him, who had glimpsed it in Arwen's crystal walls and had not been afraid. And he had been weak, the words to send her away locked tightly in his chest.

It had been nice to know that someone was thinking about him.

At that moment, he hadn't been alone.

His gaze fixated on the door, calculating, calm. She was the one alone now, he knew it. The doctor had gone to speak with the Baroness about her condition and it would be easy, so easy, for him to go to her, to somehow try and comfort her, as she had once done for him. Doors were no barrier to him, the doctor would be hard pressed to get him to leave when he came back. All he had to do was turn that door knob…

He didn't move.

For the first time in a long time, Christopher Bailaha was afraid of failing.

"You know, if you want to go in there, I'll keep a look out for you," Dennis said quietly, having appeared out of thin air. He didn't glance at Chris as he took a seat on the floor. "Otherwise you should take your self pity somewhere else before it makes Winnia-san worse."

Chris still didn't move, ignoring the white hot cut of Dennis' words.

The silver-haired Arrow sighed. "You know you couldn't have done anything about it. Sutton says she was really determined to make a special dinner for us tonight and you, of all of us, should know how stubborn she can be. She followed you here, didn't she? And all you had to do was send her a letter." Dennis snorted. "You're lucky, you know that? If a girl I liked was lying in there, sick from fever, I wouldn't be standing out here like an idiot."

"I don't…" The words died.

"What? Don't what?" Dennis taunted and Chris exhaled slowly.

"You're going to regret this the next time we spar," he said evenly. Dennis only smiled.

"I know."

Chris opened the door and stepped inside.

Winnia's room had been doused with darkness, only a few feeble candles near her bed to shed any light. The flickering glow made the sweat on her skin shine, the warm thickness of the air stifling him as he drew near to her bedside, his eyes taking in her rumpled appearance. She was still in a fever induced sleep, the doctor having had the heavy evening dress taken off and replaced with Winnia's simple sleeping gown. Her chest rose and feel with erratic breathing and she tossed her head once in a while as if seeing things she didn't want to see. That hurt him most of all. He knew what bad dreams could do to a person.

Taking a deep breath, he sat on the edge of her bed, simply watching her for a moment before reaching out to place a hand on her forehead, the heat from her skin immediately seeping into him. She tried to move her head away but he kept his hand there, applying a slight pressure that seemed to quiet her.

Her lips parted and a name escaped in a whisper. "Chris."

Something inside of him flipped over and started to ache, both pleasantly and unpleasantly. He let his fingers brush the silky strands of hair at her temple, his lungs constricting as he felt her body shiver, the fever torturing her. He used his free hand to pull the blankets tighter around her, leaning over her slightly so that he could see her face clearly.

"Winnia-san…" he murmured, continuing his descent until his mouth was near her ear, his own body suddenly trembling as emotion took a hold of him, stealing his very breath. He struggled for the words that would bring her back, back to herself and back to him.

Something to protect…

"Please."

That single word held everything of himself and he let it linger as he pulled away from her, taking his hand from the side of her face as he sank into a nearby chair. It was difficult, this caring for someone, trying to protect them. He thought that now he might understand Shannon Casull a little better.

Chris leaned his head against the back of the chair, watching Winnia until his own eyes closed and he drifted into sleep, for once not afraid of what he might see in dreams.

He was the first thing Winnia saw when she opened her eyes, her head tilted at just the right angle to see him sleeping in the chair, completely relaxed and off guard. For a moment, she couldn't understand where she was or why Chris was near her. Where was her Uncle? Had she slept in? Why did every muscle in her body hurt?

And then she caught a glimpse of the room and she remembered. The rain. Chris. The dinner. Had she been sick then? She felt like it, her whole body as week as a day old kitten. She wasn't sure she could even sit up let alone do anything useful. Her eyes went to Chris again and she remembered him catching her before she passed out, his arms as strong and safe as she had always thought they would be. Had he stayed with her all night? A blush tinged her cheeks.

And then his dark brown eyes opened, his gaze connecting with hers immediately. She almost gasped at what she read in his irises, her hand shaking as she reached out for him with no strength. He leaned forward in his chair and took her hand, his fingers steadying hers as they intertwined.

He smiled and her heart took a painful leap.

"Thank you for dinner," he said, his voice saying something entirely different.

She gave a hiccupping little laugh and closed her eyes, tears glittering in her lashes.

Winnia smiled softly, joyfully. "You're welcome."

Even with Winnia's fever broken, the doctor had demanded she rest herself and drink some warm broth that Sutton brought every few hours. The blonde woman seemed to be punishing herself, or was being punished, because she waited on Winnia hand and foot, stuttering and practically begging to help her when Winnia had told her she didn't need anything. She had finally sent the other woman away, saying she needed rest, and was grateful for the silence that followed.

The day passed rather quickly, with short visits by all the Arrows and one from the Baroness herself. By the time the sun started to set outside her balcony doors, Winnia was exhausted again, propped up only by the pillows behind her back. Sleep was slowly making her eyelids heavy but she wanted to stay awake incase Chris came to visit her again. She hadn't seen him since that morning and had found herself looking for him at the oddest times. It was silly, really. She didn't know quite what she had expected. Just because he had looked at her with that possessive protectiveness in his eyes didn't mean he liked her as anything more than a friend.

Yawning widely, she snuggled deeper into her blankets, telling herself not to be stupid. After all, Chris was very busy…

When next she opened her eyes, it was the middle of the night and Chris was standing by the balcony doors, watching the stars.

She didn't move for a moment, not wanting to attract his attention as she stared at him. He seemed very pensive standing there, his body completely still, only his eyes moving as he traced the heavens. He was wearing his uniform as well, although the jacket was half unbuttoned due to the warmness of her room, the smooth muscles of his chest just barely visible in the "V" of his shirt.

For some reason, Winnia's heart began to speed up of its own accord then and she felt her cheeks fill with color. She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself but her lungs refused to cooperate and she hunched over as a coughing fit took her, her shoulders shaking violently.

In seconds a glass of water appeared before her, Chris holding it out to her as he watched her carefully. She took it from him gratefully, a little surprised when he kept his hand on it to steady it as she drank. When her coughs subsided he took the glass away and set it on her nightstand, his gaze covering her like a heavy blanket.

"Thank you," she said and he gave her a relaxed half-smile in return, an expression that she etched into her memory, never wanting to forget it. He was still in control but, somehow, that smile contained a bit more of him than usual.

"How are you feeling?"

She blinked at the undertone of concern in his pleasant voice. "Better. The doctor says I'll be able to get up and walk tomorrow." She looked down at her hands for a moment, her fingers smoothing the material of her sleeping gown compulsively, and Chris seemed to understand that she wasn't saying something.

"What is it?"

She smiled for him. "It's nothing. I've very grateful that the doctor has been taking such good care of me."

"But?"

She hesitated. "It's just…well… I wouldn't mind some fresh air." She shook her head suddenly. "But it's selfish of me. The doctor's right, I might get sick— "

"I'll take care of you."

Air caught in her throat as she looked at him, noticing the way his lips twitched as if he had spoken something he had meant to keep to himself. His eyes met hers calmly though and she abruptly felt that she might cry. She had known he was a kind person from the moment he had slipped his cloak around her to keep her warm in the glass cavern, but back then she had only been a small part of his mission, his orders.

This, this he was doing because he chose to.

And something warm bloomed inside of her, replacing something that had been begun by Pacifica Casull and now blossomed into a full fledged feeling that filled her from top to bottom, even to her fingertips.

Was this what it felt like to have someone? To no longer be alone?

Her voice refused to come out as anything more than a whisper. "Chris-kun."

His name seemed to do something to him for a startled expression crossed his face and his eyes, when they found hers again, were the same as they had been in the gorge that night when he had mentioned his parents and she had asked him a question that she was sure would shatter him.

Are you crying?

And he had only smiled.

Me? Of course not.

Winnia reached out a hand for him again, the same as she had done the night before, and Chris came to her and took her hand in his own, helping her to stand on shaking legs. He looped her arm around his shoulder and placed his own arm around her waist, taking most of her weight as his own. Together they went to the balcony door which Chris pushed open with his foot, standing pressed together as the fresh evening breeze blew into the room.

Winnia breathed out peacefully and stood there with him until Chris closed the doors again and helped her back into bed, obviously worried she might catch a relapse. She smiled at him as he leaned over to blow out her candles and he paused, noticing her expression.

"What?" he asked quietly.

Her voice was gentle. "You are a very kind person, Chris-kun." She closed her eyes sleepily. "Good night."

She was almost asleep when she heard his soft reply.

"Thank you."

That night Winnia slept without nightmares.

To Be Continued…