"Manifestations"
By Isis
Arc Chapter 3

Quatre stripped out of a spacesuit for what he hoped to be the last time for at least a while. He quickened his pace as he felt Rasid's eyes on his back. His dear friend wasn't convinced anymore that he was all right, but he'd refused to be led to one of the medical personnel. He just needed to sleep off the after-effects.

Hanging the suit quickly he left the locker rooms and headed for the bridge, cautiously without drawing attention to himself. The concern was heartfelt, he knew that, but he didn't need to be fawned over… and he was too tired to feel that he could be polite about it right now.

Entering the bridge he found a couple of his crew monitoring the ship and locking down the hatches now that all should be aboard, complying with the Preventers order. But the person he was actually looking for was nowhere to be found.

Manul noticed him enter and puffed out a grateful sigh. "You had us all worried, Master Quatre," he stated, making his way to his side.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he answered back. Changing topics before the other man could inquire about his health he asked, "Do you know where Dorothy is?"

The man grinned from ear to ear and nodded. "Everyone knows where the Lady is," he mumbled.

Quatre blinked, specifically noting the way "Lady" came across, and then figured it could be for the best that he didn't understand that.

"She's in the officer's cabin. She's been settling the crewmembers we took in, and then she's busied herself patching up the rest of us." He held up a lightly bandaged wrist and chuckled.

"What happened?" he asked, shocked at the wrapping.

The other raised an eyebrow. "You were out for some time, Master Quatre."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he whispered, feeling terrible for putting the group is such a position.

The other waved it off. "No harm done, right?"

Quatre nodded softly, not wanting the headache to start in again.

"Well, she'll be waiting for you, I'm sure."

Rasid and Auda entered the bridge behind them. "We have the ship under lockdown, and I will ensure that the airlock is guarded."

"Thank you," he stated.

The man looked down at him, the bit of disapproval in his eyes that Quatre had grown used to when he didn't take care of himself. "Please get some sleep."

Quatre gave him a reassuring smile. "I will, I promise."

He started out of the room again and down the hall to the only private quarters on the ship. He didn't exactly trust putting Dorothy in with the Mars crews they had taken aboard, so he mused that this would be the best place for her.

Knocking softly he closed his eyes a moment, resting them as they started burning again. There was a call to come in and he pressed the door open.

Dorothy sat in the chair under the observation window of the small room, close enough that the bed could make a second chair for someone else entering. An emergency kit lay open on the shelf beside her, a bottle of antiseptic salve readily available.

Quatre felt another pang of guilt as he entered, remorseful for his crew he'd put in harm's way.

Dorothy sat with her legs crossed and a book in her lap, obviously finishing a paragraph in it before looking up to see who entered. Well, he supposed she didn't need to be all that guarded by now, and she had even ended up missing half the action.

He was surprised to find her being this passive.

Finally she turned her violet-gray eyes to him, a smile creeping into her features. "Well, well. If it isn't the conquering hero."

The light-hearted playfulness was a stark contrast to most of his grave-minded crew after all of this. "I think you have me confused," he mumbled, coming in to stand in front of her.

"Really?" she pouted, snapping the book shut with pop. "Well, how am I supposed to write a great epic from that type of attitude?"

He let the smile slip up naturally as she placed the book on the ledge, ensuring it wouldn't float off again, before holding up her left hand towards his face, expecting him to close the distance to her. Quatre blinked as she rummaged through the box, not actually paying attention to the fact that he hadn't moved.

"I'm assuming that you still haven't had that checked," she stated without question.

He sighed inwardly again. "Dorothy, I'm fine. Really."

"I'll be the judge of that, if you please," she stated, finally turning to face him again. Meeting her eyes he knew he wasn't going to get out of this.

"If I don't please?" he asked anyway even though his feet had carried him the extra distance to her.

She blinked, giving him a small, warm smile that he wasn't sure he'd seen before. "I'm not going to hurt you, Master Winner," she commented softly.

Quatre leaned down, meeting his cheek to her outstretched hand, allowing her to tilt his head to get a look at his right temple. He then took another step in, and hoped he looked casual when he braced himself up with a hand on the arm of her chair. The room slowed to stop again for him as she scrutinized the swollen mark.

"Not bad actually. How are you feeling?" she asked, turning his face and specifically searching his eyes.

"Fine," he stated automatically. When the forked eyebrow rose he relented. "Tired."

That got a nod out of her. "You have a right to be." Turning back to the box, she slipped her hand away from his chin. "Humor me with giving that a proper cleaning, and I promise I'll let you get some rest."

Right now, anyone making that promise could get whatever they wanted. But leaning over her wasn't going to work, and he let himself fall down to one knee beside the chair. Dorothy didn't seem to notice as she unwrapped a medical pad and prepped it with an alcohol rub.

His hand on the chair's arm started to tremble again and he pulled it away, sinking himself to a sitting position next to her. Looking up, he watched her work. "Dorothy?"

She met his eyes again as she moistened the little cotton pad.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

She blinked, seemingly confused by the question. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He didn't know. There was just some lingering feeling in him that she was in trouble. "This hasn't been a fun trip for you either," he said instead.

She let her predatory smirk slip into view as she leaned down closer to him. "Oh, I wouldn't say that."

He tried to give her a weary look, but he was sure it came out just looking tired.

She chuckled at him anyway, but then took a closer look. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I just need to sleep it off," he answered honestly. None of them needed to know his real injury. She shifted closer, leaning towards him as he let her touch tilt his head so she could see clearly.

Gentle. Almost tenderly she moved the pad to trace the swollen cut, as her other hand was held against his jaw and neck, keeping him still. He let his eyes close, helping their nagging to stay that way. It was actually painful to keep them open any longer.

"Quatre?"

"…don't die."

He snapped his head up to look at her, the familiar voice rolling through his mind. Her surprise was evident, her hands frozen where they'd pulled away. He blinked back the feeling of panic. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I guess I'm a little jumpy."

That didn't explain the feelings swirling through him though. It didn't explain why he felt so sure that she had said those words to him just… when? His memories were tangled in shadowy images that didn't make any sense. He'd been drugged, more than likely he had dreamed—hallucinated—so vividly that he would have thought it was real.

But he couldn't remember it. Couldn't sort out the feelings from the images. And couldn't sort those from the truth.

Staring up at Dorothy, who was staring back down at him… she wasn't buying it.

He saw the concern wash through her, her eyes not even trying to mask it. Slowly she leaned towards him again, both of her hands coming to hold his face between them. "Quatre?" she searched his eyes again. "What else did they do to you?"

He didn't want to tell her. Really he had no reason not to, but he just didn't want to deal with it right now. "I'll be fine. Please trust me. I'm just still shaky."

She seemed slightly satisfied with that, and she leaned back, taking her hands away and wadding the pad up and stuffing it in a sack with several others. "Fine, but no dying on my watch, alright?"

He should have known better than to think that concern would last for too long.

He let the smile tug at his tired expression, and let his head droop until it landed lightly on her knee. Her giggle kept him there a moment, finding it odd that he honestly found her laughter addictive for once. "What am I going to do with you boys?" she mumbled. "You go out and have all the fun, and then I get stuck patching you up."

"I'm sorry, Dorothy." He let the smile widen, his eyes still closed as he heard her open the salve jar. "We did let you have a heroic rescue for all your trouble."

She chuckled merrily. "Oh what fun." Gently she brushed a hand through his hair and he slowly picked his head up to move so she could get the disinfectant in place. Fighting to open his eyes, he felt her lightly guild him back down as he turned towards her, letting him use her knee for a pillow. "Marcus has just been sulking over it since he woke up."

Bringing his arm up, he used his elbow for a more suitable pillow, leaning his weight against her crossed legs for support. "His wife is still the one that I'm worried about."

"Really?" The cool touch of the balm smudged its way over the side of his head.

"She's… determined." That was the nicest word he could probably use right now.

"What does she have left to be determined over?"

"That's exactly the problem."

"Ah…."

The smell of antiseptic filtered around him as she worked. "You're good at this," he complimented.

"Well, none of my other patients fell asleep in my lap," she cooed, and he could hear the smirk in her voice.

…And for once, he was too tired to care. "Their loss."

Her laughter vibrated through both of them. "I love it when you're sleep deprived, you know that?"

He smiled as best he could. "Do I change?"

"Yes. You lose all of those polite inhibitions."

Great, he became an inconsiderate jerk and she loved it. "Sorry," he mumbled, knowing she hated it when he apologized so much.

She sighed at the apology but chuckled again, running her free hand over his tangled, sweat-dried hair. "You probably should have had a couple stitches, but by now I don't see the point in forcing it."

He didn't have a strong enough need to reply to that and simply stayed where he was. For the first time since all this started, the ache started to ease out of him. For once, he was calm.

Her touch ruffled through his hair again. There was something in that feeling that lingered through him. The feeling that she was close, concerned….

"Quatre?"

"Yes, Dorothy."

"Quatre… don't die."

Yes, that was her….

There was no image that came with the voices, only the feelings. There was pain, he had been fighting to breathe, his body had been shutting down, but then…. Everything went black, and the only thing that he could hear was her voice. Her quiet plea.

"Dorothy?" he managed to whisper.

"Yes?"

"Why did you come after us?"

There was a pause as her fingers brushed his bangs back again. "I was concerned."

A short answer. He knew by now that the only time that you got a straight, short answer out of Lady Catalonia was when she didn't really feel like sharing. That was all right, he didn't need to push the issue. "Thank you," he said instead, meaning it more than she would ever know.

"I caused you more trouble than I was worth," she mumbled.

He forced himself to blink his eyes open, slowly finding hers for just a moment. "No."

She shook her head. "If we hadn't shown up, they wouldn't have suspected you."

He let his eyelids fall again. "You don't know that."

"I suppose," she sighed.

Again her same soft touch caressed through his hair, somehow bringing up odd images. Things that he probably should have forgotten, but hadn't yet. "It's over, isn't it?" he asked, just wanting someone to put a final stamp on it all.

"These types of things are never over, they just become recycled. Food for thought for the others around the same table. You know that."

Yes, he knew that. But right now, he'd do his best to forget that.

"Let yourself rest," she said quietly, her voice softening around the edges. "Your battles are done for the day."

Quatre let the sound lull him a little deeper into the darkness.

…Battles. Explosions, fireballs, a crew carrier sinking, the littering of bodies thrown into the ink of space—Anger behind those violet eyes.

He forced himself to blink open his burning eyes, the ache in every muscle of his body coming back in full force. And then… that nearly maternal touch. The worry bled out again, although it was getting hard to distinguish reality anymore.

There was soft chuckle beside him. "Dear Quatre. As much as I don't mind, we should get you some real sleep."

He silently agreed with that… although he was sure that would involve moving. Forcing himself to work, he reopened his eyes and slowly pushed himself back to a normal sitting position. The full brunt of his actions were finally soaking in, and he slowly realized that he was going to be terribly embarrassed about this tomorrow.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, knowing she'd chide him for apologizing again. "I should give you you're room back."

"Mine? Oh, no. This is the captain's quarters," she stated, uncrossing her legs and standing up, taking his arm.

"No, really Dorothy. It's the only private room onboard," he reminded her. The more he moved, the more his brain came back online.

He let her help him back to his feet, which he was rather thankful for. "You're joking. I spent two days squished into a scout ship with Rasid's overzealous concern, Manul's perfectionist attitude and Abdul's snoring." She stepped back a couple paces with him and easily pushed him down to sit on the bed. "I've basically discovered that peace and quiet are not prerequisites for you guys."

The sympathetic smirk that came to his face was genuine as he worked those statements over. "Have I mentioned that I'm sorry?"

"Yes!" she puffed.

"Just making sure."

Leaning down in front of him she caught his half-open eyes. "You need the rest far more than I do. Besides, I always land on my feet," she winked.

He drooped his head with a sigh, not wanting to give in to her. But the light push on his arm sent him sideways before he really had a chance to catch himself.

There was a merry giggle and he would have been annoyed if it wasn't such an effort. "What is it with you men and your inability to take care of yourselves?" she mused.

Finally resigned, he laid out flat on the bed and let himself sink into the cushion.

"There now," she cooed. He felt the cover from the other side of the bed come over the top of him as she folded him in. "All tucked in."

Yes, he was going to be very terribly embarrassed by this tomorrow….

He peeked his eyes open again as he felt her sit down on the edge beside him. Closing in, she crossed her arms and leaned them again his chest as he blinked up at her.

Her amused expression was one he knew he was going to regret. "Thanks," he muttered.

She smiled with a chuckle. "Of course, dear." Her eyes softened and her smile turned genuine. "Rest easy."

He silently hoped so as he closed his eyes again a moment. He felt her shift softly beside him, but he didn't realize why until her nose brushed his and her lips met against his for just a brief second.

But this time he was ready for her.

His eyes opened enough for his hand to slip out from the covers and snag her arm before she managed to get too far away. With her weight still shifted on her arms over his chest, he easily pulled her back down. Managing to lift his head enough to meet her, he found her lips as she took a surprised breath.

He didn't give her the chance to pull away. He caressed her lips with his until he finally felt her respond. His grip on her arm loosened but he kept hold of her jacket sleeve, keeping her close. Softly his head hit the pillow again as she followed him, her kiss gentle.

More gentle than he was being. Dorothy, for once, was following, responding… and loving it.

She felt him reposition his lips on hers, continuing his embrace. He was tender, chaste, but…. Dorothy let the thoughts slip away as he lightly pulled back, breaking the sensation. She remembered to open her eyes and looked down into his. The sea-blue depths blinked almost painfully, but they were still beautiful.

His hand had released itself entirely from her arm and had fallen back at his side.

But still the two said nothing. She was surprised beyond all reckoning, and he was… well, he was half-asleep. The realization brought a smile to her lips again, and she moved once more to right herself.

"Goodnight, Quatre," she whispered as his eyes closed again.

She thought the word he tried to whisper was probably "goodnight" as well, even though no sound came out.

Smoothing the cover over him again, she quietly stood, picked up the medical supplies, and headed for the door. He didn't move when she paused and looked back over him. Finally taking a deep breath to regroup herself, she turned the lights off and opened the door….

To be presented with a group of five Maguanac soldiers hurriedly looking over the corridor's wall plates.

"All seems okay in this section," one of them mumbled to the group. They all nodded and offered "specifics" on the type of "work" they were obviously doing. Most of which sounded an awful lot like changing the polarity of a flux capacitor to her.

Dorothy blinked at them a moment before exiting and closing the door behind her. "Gentlemen," she cooed fondly to them.

"Oh, hello Lady," Auda even tried to venture from the back of the group.

"What seems to be the trouble?"

"Oh, nothing for you to worry over," Abdul answered, one hand behind his head.

"Really?" She slid over to the man, the closest to her side. "It seems you've discovered a problem," she sighed, snaking in close. She was finally rewarded with getting his glasses to fall down his nose. "Perhaps it would be easier for you to hear if I kept the door open next time?"

The Maguanacs balked. All of them. Score five for the Dorothy column.

"Wha-what do you mean?" he asked with a nervous laugh.

"Honestly, now," she mumbled low, bringing a pout to her lips as she slipped a hand up to his chin and forced him to meet her gaze. "What sort of woman do you expect that I am?"

Plus five again.

"No! We'd never… uh… think like…."

She chuckled lightly, releasing the man and closing her eyes. "Ah well, regardless, it seems I've lost my room for the evening." Taking a demure look around the group she purred, "Perhaps I can bunk somewhere else?"

Plus five.

The offers were more than comical. She suddenly had a snore index of each one of them, Abdul of course scoring highest, as well as a listing of the disrepair of each room assigned between the five of them.

She was in very good humor by the time Rasid cleared his throat from behind the arguing men. Again the group collectively started at his sudden appearance and she had to hold back the snicker.

"If the Lady needs a room, we will double bunk and give her a private one."

"That's terribly generous of you, Captain. I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience," she sighed, her eyes closed, her hands together on the medical kit in front of her.

"Not at all," he mumbled when she met his eyes again. "I seem to have a group of volunteers for you already."

The group sighed, but kept their obvious grumbles to themselves.

She turned a polite smile to all of them as Rasid broke through them and offered her his arm. She favored him with a tiny curtsy for the surprise gesture and took it. "Why, thank you."

"There is no duty more obligatory than the repayment of kindness." – Cicero

AN: I was so happy to note how many people said they would be waiting for another arc chapter. I guess I have underestimated the number of 4xD fans out there. :) I just can't help myself with these two.

Proofed by: Lisa. Thank you!