Chapter 6
When he awoke, he was surprised to feel once again warm. Taking a deep breath Quatre allowed his eyes to open slowly, reveling in the unnatural sense of safety he felt. He was warm, content, and finally, safe.
His eyes drifted shut again as the memories of his time in the mosque came back to him. Such peace pervaded him, soaking into him even now to fill the empty void he'd been before this divine revelation. He was not forsaken, he was loved, needed even by his God. Allah had created him to be here, to shelter those that needed protection. Allah had not condemned him, no, instead He had created a special place for him as a defender of nations.
Joy invaded his senses and he held back a sob at the warm feeling of acceptance. He was not alone, never alone. Allah was with him, always had been, and Quatre knew that now in this place, he would find some sense of family.
Family.
That one word had struck fear into his heart for as long as he could remember. His father's face or his sisters' bitter and cruel words of contempt haunted his nightmares, casting him into confusion as to Allah's wishes for him. He knew from the text that Rashid was now to become some type of family to him, but while he knew the words of Aisha's chapter by heart, he did not know what they entirely meant. And still another part of him knew it would not be that easy.
He'd spent the better part of his memory in pain, solitude, or both. On the satellite, he'd studied as a way of keeping himself busy and human psychology had been one of his favorite subjects. He'd read about the illegal colonial experiments in isolation, placing young subjects alone in outer space for long periods of time and then watching them reintegrate into society. It was a long process, usually resulting in the patients being unable to conform to new situations and committing suicide. They were horrible experiments and yet Quatre knew he would be like them. Already he felt the strain of so many people around him, the fear of not doing the correct thing because he simply did not know what the correct thing was. Fear of saying the wrong thing or even speaking at the wrong times.
As far as textbooks went, he knew the words people wished to hear. When they were sad they wanted comfort, when happy they wanted someone to share it with. But he knew he didn't have the words inside of him, didn't know them but for reading them. They were not second nature as they were to many, they were not words he felt or knew how to feel. He'd have to learn them and that frightened him like nothing else.
Then there were his abilities. Dozens of emotions pressed upon him even now and that pressure pushed against his chest to rest on his heart. Emotions that were not his own invaded his senses and he had to struggle to decipher his own from theirs.
Long ago, empaths had been treated like gifted people. They were thought to posses a gift to touch people's lives, and indeed they had. Empaths became doctors and comforted the sick and dying, teachers to ease a child's fears, and counselors to better help those that couldn't help themselves. But those people were gone now, replaced by fearful individuals that had no training or understanding of their gifts except to hide them.
Growing up, Quatre had hidden his well, pretending the screaming coming from his mouth was from the pain instead the absorption of his "reprogrammer's" emotions. Even now, the hate he'd felt all those years ago still threatened to overwhelm him and he shivered at the thought even though he was warm.
What would he do? How would he conform to this new and strange place where men played two roles and existed to serve Allah alone? How would he ever manage to be the student Rashid would expect, strong and capable in matters of warfare? He was who he was, a broken boy that feared he'd never allow anyone close enough to make him really not alone.
Suddenly, something that had not caught his attention in his waking moments now did. A deep thumping sounded in his ears. He was curled on his left side, curled into a soft warm pillow, which seemed to be…thumping?
Curious about this strange place already, Quatre slowly eased his head up, turning it from facing one wall to look upwards. His eyes fell upon Rashid's sleeping face.
He tried not to panic, tried to calm his breathing so that he would not pass-out. Against his wishes his body tenses, every muscle going ridged. His eyes went wide in some mixture of fear and wonder. The shaking he knew would come finally did and as his muscles quaked under the stress, he heard Rashid grumble deep in his chest, before tightening this arms about Quatre—arms Quatre had not known were there.
With ever fiber of his being Quatre tried not to panic, but as those arms tightened around him in what would have been a comforting gesture, he could not hold back the reflex. With a violent flinch he wrenched himself from Rashid's grasp and scrambled to the end of the bed. His movements dislodged the covers and his flight managed to kick the other man he had not seen behind him, Abdule.
Terror at having been touched in any way without his permission flooded his senses and he was too caught up in that fear to notices Abdule's yelp of surprise or Rashid as he sat up, completely alert.
He was afraid, terrified! To know that someone might have touched him or was simply close to him, was too much for his isolated mentality to wrap itself around. Touch brought pain, it always did, always. He tried to reason with himself, that even as he'd laid there this morning he'd known that he had nothing to fear but his own mind. It didn't matter. All that mattered was the fear, of any physical contact, any at all, the terror in his own mind.
Rashid's deep soothing voice did little to help his shaking body.
"It is alright, Quatre. You are not hurt."
With wild movements he nodded his head in agreement. He wasn't hurt, he wasn't, but the terror was there none the less.
Rashid took a deep breath while Abdule gave a half groan.
"I thought the kid was going into another seizure like last night."
Through his fear, Quatre regarded the man that had spoken and Abdule smiled sheepishly.
"Hey, Quatre, you scared the crap out of all of us yesterday. We had no idea what was going on. Rashid took you to the infirmary and Wufei looked you over, but no one knew what was wrong. We tried waking you up but you just kept on sleeping. Finally Wufei said to hell with it and just sent you home. The guys'll be relieved to know that you woke up in such a…enthusiastic manner." The man gave a wink with his devil eyes and Quatre found himself oddly comforted by the man's easy way of speaking to him.
Slowly the shaking stopped, very slowly. By then the two men were both sitting up, their backs pressed again the ornate headboard. Abdule sat with his hands fidgeting constantly, glancing back and forth between himself and Rashid. However, Rashid stood stilly, regarding Quatre with patience and understanding, waiting for him to make the first move.
When it seemed that Quatre would not or could not, Rashid finally did.
"Are you hungry, Quatre?"
Such a simple question and Quatre knew immediately that he was. But what should he say? What was the right thing? Did he agree and get fed or did he agree and have it held over him like some reward for performing tricks. People could be cruel and while Rashid and Abdule seemed kind, Quatre had been tricked before. A part of him knew that he was being suspicious unjustly to protect himself but he dared not take the chance. As much as he trusted in Allah's words, humans had free choice.
Unbidden, his stomach betrayed him, rumbling loudly in the silent room.
It started out as a tiny sound before growing into snickers. Then in a rush of abandon, Abdule broke out into hearty laughs that shook the bed.
"Quatre! Oh, kid, that was priceless, I don't think you could have planned that better! Your stomach deserves some kind of academy award or something, that was perfect timing!" Abdule continued to laugh and Quatre felt an immediate sense of ease. Something just felt right about this man, a kinship that Quatre had never known. He barely noticed when his muscles began to relax.
Rashid's voice was again deep and yet this time, Quatre did not tense at the sound.
"You may always tell us if you need anything, Quatre. If you are hungry, say so, thirsty, you have but to ask. Until you become aware of where everything is we will help you in any way we can."
He found himself nodding silently.
He was greatly surprised when Rashid turned to Abdule and said simply. "I will prepare him something to eat. We will come and get you when we are finished."
"Fine! Just send a guy out on his naked ass without a shower or a decent breakfast!" Then more seriously, "I'll be hanging around the camps, they've taken me off for the rest of the week. I'll probably be with Auda, on the south side." Rashid nodded his head, and then Abdule turned to look at him. "Quatre, listen, I've gotta go, but you and Rashid will come and find me later, and we'll get to know each other. I know this is all scary for you but try to remember what you can of what you read yesterday. Rashid won't hurt you, would never even consider it, even if he does look like he could bench-press a mobile suit. Just try to remain calm and really listen, that's the best advice I can give you; listen, and Rashid will explain everything."
With that, Abdule shifted out of the bed and Quatre turned away quickly as he realized Abdule was very much naked. He felt his face flame but kept his eyes downcast to hide it. He heard what must have been Abdule dressing before he saw a hand push the bed down next to his cotton-covered leg, he flinched in response to the close contact.
"Try not to worry. Rashid taught me and I think he's one of—if not—the best. He's patient and kind and you'll learn that he loves without needing love back. Trust his words, and perhaps when we see each other again, you'll feel less vulnerable." Quatre looked up to see the soft smile turn mischievous. "Though how you feel vulnerable when you're the only one wearing any pants is beyond me." A quick wink at Quatre's stunned expression and the thin man was gone, leaving the bedroom for the camps outside.
For a moment, Quatre analyzed what he knew already. He was alone, well, alone in the sense that he was the only one with Rashid. He knew half of the lay out of this apartment but not well enough if he had to formulate an escape. He knew how to find the door to the hallway, and after Rashid's presentation, he knew how to get out to the camps. What good would that really do him though?
Taking a shaky breath he turned to regard his Teacher.
Rashid sat as he had so far, cool and collect, at ease with the situation or so it seemed. His eyes watched Quatre carefully and the boy wasn't sure how to accept the scrutiny. The giant's chest was bare, and Quatre avoided looking at it like the plague. Intellectually he knew about Aisha's chapter but that didn't erase the years of torment he'd been put through.
"Are you hungry, Quatre?" His voice startled Quatre in the silence and he tensed for a moment again. He was slightly annoyed that this man would ask him a question he already knew the answer to. But as Quatre refused to say anything, it became increasingly apparent that Rashid would wait for an answer for as long as it took coming.
Refusing to bend all the way, he nodded his head shallowly.
"Good. Then we will shower, dress, pray, and then eat. We will discuss your questions and the rules after you have eaten."
Shower? A real shower? It'd been a long time since he'd had one of those. It might even be with warm water.
Unbeknownst to him, an upturn of lips altered his face into a more receptive outlook and Rashid offered a returning smile.
Moving in a relaxed pace, as if it were natural for him to rise naked from the bed in front of a stranger, Rashid moved across the room to the left, releasing the door Quatre had not seen earlier.
He tried not to stare, tried not to look. But to ignore was almost impossible, and as Quatre quickly threw his eyes to the floor he felt a wave of awe at the body of the great giant. His skin flushed for the second time that morning and he wondered briefly if all men slept naked.
"Quatre?" He looked up before quickly remembering that Rashid was unclothed and then looked away. A deep chuckle sounded from him. "Here." A blanked was lifted off of a waiting shelf and placed quickly around Rashid's waist. "Will this make you more comfortable?"
Embarrassed by what he considered his ineptitude in human behavior, Quatre nodded quickly before rising and moving to the now opened door of the bathroom.
Inside was warm as heat lamps lit the air in sunshine orange. The colors were white and blue, and furs from some white animal lay on the tile in strategic places. The fixtures were made of gold and crystal instead of steel and glass, while the tile could have been some kind of marble like the counters. The walls were a pale blue that seemed to make the room feel warmer than it already was.
But the masterpieces were in the corners to the left of the door. Against the left wall was a massive sunken tub. Large and cut from white marble, the spouts were of gold, with what looked like diamonds at their centers. It looked big enough to fit Rashid easily and perhaps someone else as well. On the right wall however was what Quatre craved most. The shower was massive, taking up half the wall, with three water heads, one on each wall save the crystal cut door. It looked inviting and warm and Quatre shivered in anticipation of the water on his filthy skin.
Behind him, Rashid spoke. "Islam teaches that it is better to give to the poor than to take in such extravagant finery. But this bathroom, and indeed nearly the entire colony save the camps, was constructed prior to the Maguanacs arrival. This colony was built on Earth by people of the Islamic nations who had just learned they'd been being protected for nearly two thousand years by men they had not compensated. This was to atone their spirits. For nearly two hundred years old, I would say they were worth the extravagant prices in their durability." There was humor in the man's voice and Quatre found himself nodding his understanding.
Rashid moved silently then, walking over to the shower and turning it on until the room began to fill with steam. His hand reached into the water, until he was satisfied with the temperature. Then he turned back and looked at Quatre quizzically for a moment before smiling and stepping aside.
"There is another shower. I will use that one until you are more comfortable with me. There is soap and other things inside, feel free to use whatever you want and as much as you like. I doubt it will happen but do not concern yourself if something runs out, it can be replaced without worry. Also, take as long as you like, something tells me you will enjoy the time to think."
Think? He didn't plan on doing much thinking, more like weeping at the pure pleasure of it. Basins of water were all he could spare on the satellite as he only had enough water to drink. Soap was a luxury, and was something his father would give him only if Quatre begged. Now, to take a warm shower, to use as much of everything as he'd like…it was almost too much to fathom.
He nodded to Rashid and moved towards the shower as the man moved to stand by the door.
"I am sorry we have not yet gotten you a change of clothes. The clothing you came in with was destroyed, though it appeared it did not fit you properly." There was a hanging question there, which Quatre chose to ignore. Rashid continued. "Abdule and I will take you to the shop computer later so that you may pick some of your own things, including clothing. Will you be alright?"
Unaccustomed to having anyone care one way or another about him, he did not respond. Rashid seemed to understand. "I will be in the prayer room when you are finished. You do not need to knock, only enter." To this Quatre nodded, and then Rashid was gone, leaving Quatre to turn quickly.
Ripping his pants off, he was mildly surprised to find they were all he was wearing before abandoning the concern for the temptation of water.
It fell on him like angels' cleansing tears, washing away the remaining tension from his taxed muscles. He breathed in the steam deeply, letting it cleanse his lungs. Running his hands through his hair he felt the water slip through the strands to touch his scalp and nearly cooed with the pleasure. Vigorously he ran his hands over his body, doing what he always did to try to cleanse as much off of him as he could.
He watched fascinated as his skin grew red from the heat instead of blue as it usually did when he bathed. Warmth pervaded him and he scrubbed at his face when the water entered his eyes.
He stood there for a long time, longer than he could remember standing under the pressure of water. He ached to cry out with relief, that this is what life should have been like for him. But he quickly caught himself, recognizing Allah's plan as not his to question. He turned in the spray of three spouts to the wall. In an alcove sat beautiful mosaic jars. When he opened them, the rich scent of what he thought was sandalwood filled the heated air.
Taking the shampoo, he lathered his hair as best he could, noting with embarrassment that the grease prevented it from bubbling. Three times he lathered and rinsed before he deemed his hair sufficiently washed. He hoped others would think that way as well.
Next came the soap, again a rich sandalwood that clung to his skin after being rinsed away. There was another jar there, and curiously Quatre opened it. A white substance was inside, thicker than the shampoo but it left a soft feeling on his skin when he washed it from his fingertips. Choosing to close the jar instead of to use it, Quatre returned it to the shelf before reluctantly shutting the water down.
For a long moment he just stood there, marveling at the warmth all around him instead of the bitter chill of cold. Finally he shook it off and stepped out of the shower. A towel was placed on the floor where it hadn't been when he'd entered the shower, a pair of white pants folded neatly under it. A note lay on top, its script exact, as if done by a computer.
"Quatre, The pants are old but should work, they once belonged to Abdule. They will be big but will tide you over. R."
Rashid had entered while he'd been in the shower, perhaps even seen him naked. A sudden fear gripped his heart before he squelched it. He was clean and now had a means of drying himself and not dirtying his body again. He'd take the kindness for what he thought it must be.
Drying quickly he stepped into the pants, feeling at once naked without something underneath them. He shifted for a second, tying the string at the waist tighter to hold the material up over his hips, but it was no use. The pants were too large and they hung low, exposing the taunt skin and protruding bones of his body.
He made it to the mirror to look himself over. Deep black pits were his eyes, while his skin accented them with its snow-white paleness. His shoulder bones protruded from his arms, and he lifted them above his head to see that his ribs did the same. He was sickly thin, like the historical images of people from before the United Earth Sphere Alliance. He was hollow but now there was a hope that he might not stay like this, and so he quickly ran his fingers through his hair and exited the bathroom, shivering at the sudden drop in temperature.
Quatre left the bedroom behind him quickly, noting absently that the bed was completely made. The living room was how he remembered it, as was the kitchen. Again he hesitated by the prayer room door. Rashid had told him not to knock but he still felt as if he were intruding on the man. Squaring his shoulders he entered quietly, he was surprised when Rashid did not turn to look at him but continued to pray.
Quatre walked into the room and stood a good distance from Rashid. After a moment, as if on some strange cue, both of them began the prayer at the same time. Five movements followed, from standing to kneeling, to prostration, to kneeling, to standing. Through it all Rashid spoke the prayers while Quatre heard the words in his head, his mental voice speaking them as he wished he could, with strength and a deep voice like Rashid's.
When the prayer was over, Quatre met eyes with Rashid who smiled softly to him. Moving with reverence, Rashid draped a cloth over the Qur'an before moving to the door, Quatre followed him.
Outside, Rashid headed towards the kitchen as he spoke.
"Wufei is our doctor and has already taken a look at you as Abdule said. He is concerned about how thin you are. He wanted me to ask you if food settled well in your stomach."
Surprised by the question Quatre shrugged. "It stays down."
"Good, but does it hurt to eat? Cramps in your stomach at all?"
"I'm grateful for the food, it doesn't matter how it feels in my stomach as long as it stays." There was finality in his voice that caused Rashid to turn to look at him. Quatre had no way of deciphering the emotions on his face.
"For the time being you will drink the shakes that Wufei prescribed. When he thinks you are able, we will integrate more than toast into your diet."
He wasn't sure how he felt as Rashid moved to create the drink. He'd just basically been told what he could and could not do, and that settled badly on his self-sufficient spirit. But he was a stranger in a strange land, and the text in Aisha's chapter spoke of honoring Rashid as his father. Quatre felt no great compassion for his father but Rashid had not tried to hurt him yet and for the time being he reasoned to go along with what the man said.
A glass with a white mixture was placed on the counter close to him and Rashid nodded at it. "Drink. All of it."
He gave no response but brought the glass to his lips and drank slowly. It was terrible, an odd taste of chalk and dirt. But he schooled his face to show no emotion as he continued to choke down the liquid and solid chunks.
Suddenly, Rashid took the glass from his hand. Startled by the suddenness of it, he stepped back and away from the man, letting the glass go in a reflex. Rashid's quick movements prevent a spill but the man turned quickly and dumped the offensive drink down the drain anyway.
Terrified that Rashid was somehow mad at him Quatre moved backwards until his back was pressed against the wall, his posture prepared to fly for the apartment door on a single notice.
There was no anger in Rashid's voice as he spoke calmly. "If you do not like it, Quatre, tell me and I will try to make it better. Do not suffer through it out of fear. I will not hurt you, no matter what you do or say." He turned to lock eyes with Quatre before offering another smile. "Let me see if I can make this better. Do you like nutmeg?"
Surprised, he shrugged, he'd never heard of it.
Another shake was created and this one thankfully taste more like the one he'd had the morning before. He finished it quickly before moving cautiously to set it on the counter by the sink. He knew how to care for dishes but Abdule had insisted the day before and he didn't know the proper course of action. But Rashid only nodded, finishing off his toast and jam before taking Quatre's cup and washing it out.
"Quatre, take a seat in the living room. I will be there shortly."
Without nodding, he moved into the other room, thankful to be away from the huge man. He sat at first on the couch where he'd been the day before but quickly remembered the feeling of entrapment before moving to a single chair to the couch's right.
Turning back to the kitchen, he watched Rashid as he moved around, putting things back with minimal care. Quatre studied him, watched the way the large muscles in his back moved as he shifted his arms. Rashid was well over six and a half feet and stood closer to seven if the ceiling was any indication. He was wide, with wide shoulders that followed his torso straight down to his hips. He wasn't fat, not at all, built; and from the view this morning, Quatre knew it was all large muscle. His legs were incased in a pair of dark red, almost black pants that accented the tanned complexion of his entire body. He wore no shoes and Quatre noted that even his feet were tan. His chest was excellently defined and broad, the expanse of it learned as he'd slept against it two nights in a row. There was hair on his chest but it was soft Quatre remembered, the color of wet desert sand. The hair on his head was the same color and Quatre noticed it was still damp from the morning shower.
As Rashid turned around and entered the living room, Quatre ducked his head only to look back up and into a knowing face. The man sat where Quatre had been the day before closest to the chair he'd backed himself into.
"I need for you to understand a few things, Quatre. Some of them are Allah's words and some are things the Maguanacs have found work best when teaching Recruits. Some will make sense and others may make you angry or fearful. Understand this, everything that is done is for your best interest. I meant what I said when I told you I would no more hurt you than my own family. You are like both student and son to me now. Those are Allah's words. As Teacher it is my duty to show you what it means to be a Maguanac, to serve Allah's will. But in the role of a parent, it is to teach you the things all fathers should teach their sons.
"Let us begin with what will happen soon. It is customary for a new Recruit to spend the first seven days with his Teacher. This is a time of familiarizing yourself with me and myself with you. During this week Recruits learn what is expected of them and most begin to at least become less fearful of their new surroundings. This time usually takes place in the camps but I have chose to live here rather than the camps. To a certain extent this will handicap you. There is a potential for you to not get the interaction with the other men that you will need, but I think you will agree that the less people around you now, the more comfortable you will be."
Quatre nodded his head quickly; he did not want to be surrounded by anymore emotions than he already was.
"I thought as much. It may be harder for you later, but with Abdule here you will have someone besides me to talk to as well.
"After this week, you will be taken before the council of elders. They will decide where best your talents will be directed. Every Maguanac is taught the basics of warfare, how to be a soldier or repair equipment. But along with that is specialized training. For example, Abdule has been trained as a soldier but he specializes as a engineer, repairing equipment and generally making sure everything works. I was trained as a strategists and leader. The council decided early on that it would be my role to direct the men. When the decision is made, you will begin light instruction. You will go to classes to finish out your education, as it is important for everyone to know the world they live in. Following this you will work with the other remaining Recruits in general soldier lessons. Finally, you will study with those in your specialty. As you grow you will learn more, but for the first year your curriculum is light, your lessons lasting only half the day. Your most important lesson during this first year is to learn that you are part of a family. Everyone here is father and brother to you, Quatre, you do not need to ever fear them.
"I will help you in anyway I can and you will be expected to come to me if you need help or someone to talk to. You can of course seek both of these things from others, especially Abdule, but through our discussions I think you will find yourself coming to me.
"This leads into Allah's notion of a Teacher as a father figure. I will never be your father, Quatre. After witnessing his dishonorable display in the Great Hall, I am sure you will find some measure of comfort in that. But for the next eleven years—the time it takes for you to become a full Maguanac—I am the closest comparison. As Allah wrote, my word is to be obeyed and respect is expected. In return, I will teach you the things your father should have. What it is to be a man and all the things that entails. Do you understand?"
Slowly he thought over Rashid's words. This giant man before him would be like a father to him and Quatre had already sensed Rashid's kindness. But that didn't mean anything. His father had been kind to his sisters and cruel to him. What if Abdule usurped all of Rashid's kindness and left him with only the bitterness or if his and Abdule's roles were switched, he didn't wish suffering on anyone. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking on all that he knew of Rashid and sensed from him now.
Calm, this man before him was naturally calm--a soothing personality. There was little anger in him, and yet Quatre had to wonder if when enraged, Rashid was prone to violence. But what choice did he really have? He couldn't refuse the man, where would he go instead? He'd been given a cruel father in his past life as Quatre Winner, Rashid could not be worse than he had been.
His nod was sure, strong. He understood and accepted the terms.
Rashid nodded as well. "Then there is one other important matter to discuss. You read the Qur'an and know that Allah willed his defenders to know Him through each other. In blatant terms He has given His blessings on our sexual preferences. Muslim fathers teach their son's how to give pleasure to their wives, but that is not a possible case here. It has been decided through tradition and a passage of Aisha's chapter that Teachers will initiate their Recruits into this desired but often fearful sexual experience.
"I can tell by your breathing that I have frightened you." And indeed, Quatre was nearly shaking again, his breathing deep and stressed as he fearfully awaited Rashid's next words.
"Put your fear behind you, Quatre. The world outside this sanctuary is not the same as the one inside. No one will force you into anything, ever! Allah's words were thus:
"Let Teacher teach Recruit to be man and lover in all ways, so that the Recruit is knowledgeable and without fear.
"But he also said this as well:
"Let no man take another without his permission for all My people are respected. He who does this among you is to be killed without mercy, needing only the word of the victim against him."
"Do you understand? No one will ever take you against your will, and as reassurance to you, if they do, you need no witnesses to have him killed. It is the only offence in the Maguanacs that is punishable by death except treason, and it is the only one that does not require at least two witnesses. It is my duty to show you what Allah wished for you to know but that is not something that will happen now or soon.
"I have watched you, Quatre, and you are opposed to even me sitting this close to you. You fear touch and a part of me is afraid to find out what was done to you in the past. I would never, ever dare touch you now in a sexual way. You are too hurt and vulnerable at this time. But in the future, when I think you are ready, I will question you about it. Right now you are probably thinking you will never agree but eleven years is a long time, plenty of time for you to decide on your own."
His voice was halted as he spoke, fear still coursing through him.
"Am I…not to act as your son?" Rashid nodded. "Then…if you command it…I have no choice…" His sentence hung open, he couldn't finish it. Tears threatened his eyes and he turned away from Rashid, away from the man that he had agreed could rule his life.
"No, Quatre!" Suddenly, Rashid was before him, kneeling at his feet but still taller than he was. "Perhaps you were never taught this, but Allah gave his people the ability to refuse their elders when their requests contradicted the Qur'an. If I were to command you to submit, you could refuse me because I'd asked you to give up your rights as Allah granted them. There is never, and will never, be a reason for you to ever be taken against your will, ever! If you fear everything else, do not fear this. I will never force myself on you, Quatre. If you do not or cannot believe me, then talk with Abdule, he has been my Recruit for the last ten years, he will tell you I am a man of honor."
He was shaken, having Rashid so close to him, the emotions of the man battering against his defenses. But it was not an entirely horrible thing, as those emotions spoke the truth of Rashid's words. Quatre felt the tension that had again seeped into his body slowly leave; Rashid noted it as well.
"It is true that I will expect you to do things you might not want to or even are afraid to do. In my role as Teacher I must push you sometimes, but I do it only because I know you are capable of it. I will tell you now that Abdule and I will be spending time with you so that you become more comfortable with us. This will include he and I touching you when appropriate. I know you are weary of touch, but you do not have to be, and it will be my responsibility to make you understand that through example. A touch of the arm or invasion of this wide amount of personal space you crave will be part of it; but the hardest thing will be our sleeping arrangements.
"I have no intention of allowing you to sleep on your own. The way it has been since you got here will be the way it will remain. You will sleep between Abdule and I or at least next to me every night. I can see you dislike the idea but that is a concession you will have to learn. I will try to make other adjustments easier but this one I will not bend on."
Allah, was he afraid. Tremors now raced under his skin and he shook with the implications of Rashid's words. He believed that the man would not force him and even believed that Abdule would not either. But to sleep with them, to feel arms around him as they had been that very morning, he wasn't sure he could do it.
"W-what…if I can't?"
"Quatre." He looked up. "You can and you will. It is a matter of trust and you will have to learn to trust us."
Again, not knowing what else to do, Quatre nodded.
"One more thing before we get Abdule from the camps. I found that with Abdule, I overestimated his abilities once. An example is in order.
"Perhaps six months after I took Abdule as Recruit, I made a bad decision. Like you, Abdule did not like to be touched, but after six months he was beginning to allow longer touches and even the occasional hug. I thought it was time to test his abilities so I took him into my arms and refused to let him go. For a moment he was calm and then when he found he could not move he panicked. It was one of the worst things I have ever done to another human and I fear I will always regret it. But after twenty minutes, Abdule became too exhausted from his struggles and simply gave up. At that point I thought he had benefited, I was wrong, very, very wrong."
There was such a profound sadness in Rashid, his soul ached with the memory of what he was telling Quatre now.
"I put him to bed, and the next day after lessons, I could not find him. Everyone was searching for him by nightfall but no one could find him anywhere. By then I had realized my mistake. If I touched Abdule for too long in the past he would often tell me to stop, sometimes violently. I had not been able to hear the difference in his need.
"We finally found him huddled in the back corner of the ka'aba. He came when I called him to me but there was terror in his eyes, and…it was the most painful experience of my life.
"It took me nearly six months to undo the damage I had caused; six months where Abdule was frightened. I implemented the system I am about to with you, but he did not trust it until he tested it. Things were better then, got steadily better after that, but I berate myself everyday knowing I caused him unnecessary pain because I could not tell the difference.
"I am telling you this so you understand, even though it may cause you to fear me—"
"No, I…don't fear you." He'd said 'no' before he caught himself, the word slipping past his lips. It startled him as much as Rashid, but the man simply nodded before continuing.
"It is called a safe word. A word that will let me know that the task I have set before you is too much for you to handle. It is a word you will speak if the feelings you have are not ones of fear, but terror; something you say not because you do not want to do something or try, but because the very thought of it freezes you in place. If I asked you to take something into the bedroom, it would not be appropriate to use the word; however, if I asked you to strip and run singing into the camps, it would be."
Quatre offered a small smile at the joke.
"The word is, hijab, which are the veils women used to wear to cover themselves on Earth. You have but to say it once and I will reconsider very carefully what it is I am asking of you. This is the same word I used with Abdule, so he will understand if you say it also"
Quatre committed the word to memory before asking the question he wasn't sure he had a right to.
"What was it…that Abdule said the word for?"
Rashid smiled and offered a hearty laugh. "He asked me to kill a spider that had come in on some cargo. I told him to kill it himself and he screamed the word as he was running away from the advancing thing. We do not get many spiders here but they reduce Abdule to a weeping mess."
Quatre cast his eyes down as he smiled thinking about Abdule running away from a spider.
"Quatre?" He looked up. "Do you truly think you can follow these rules?"
He thought about it for only a second before answering.
"I will try…Rashid."
Hearing his name spoken for the first time, Rashid smiled to himself as he stood, his hand outstretched.
"I will give you a hand up, and then let go. Take my hand."
His heart stopped. "I-I can—"
"Take my hand, Quatre."
His first test, would he fail?
With shaking fingers, he placed his hand lightly into Rashid's as the man kept his hand opened and lifted up, Quatre's hand ghosting his as he stood on his own. The minute he stood, Rashid removed his hand.
Quatre was startled as he felt his bangs move across his forehead. Rashid's fingers not touching his skin.
"Good, Quatre. Very good. Let us collect Abdule."
He nodded, and together they left the apartment, the Recruit silently keeping step with his Teacher.