Chapter 9
"Quatre?" He heard the muffled question through the door of his room. He'd spent the majority of his morning in here, feeling uncomfortable around the two men he couldn't seem to unmask. The morning consisted of Abdule trying to get him to talk, Rashid trying to get him out of his room, and both of them using every trick in the book to get those awful shakes down his throat. Quatre was so looking forward to having a decent meal, even if it did make him sick.
Taking a deep breath he turned away from the computer terminal. Rashid and Abdule had been on him all morning about selecting some personal items from the shop computer. He wasn't at all comfortable using other people's money to purchase anything. He knew his father was rich, everyone did, but that left a guilty feeling whenever anyone offered to give him something. Explaining it wasn't something he was able to do, so he reasoned his reaction was just normal.
But they'd insisted, to the point where Rashid had made him promise to select at least twenty things by late afternoon. "I do not care what the items are, Quatre. Pick things that you have always wanted or that interest you. I will see what you have selected later."
So this is where he'd been for the last three hours, battling Abdule for privacy, and Rashid's "accidental" tripping of the door sensor. But Quatre had gotten a chance to breathe, to really take a deep breath. He wasn't prepared to analyze the situation completely yet, there were still things that he needed to think over, but this was as good a break as he could have expected.
Standing, Quatre moved from the computer terminal and pushed the open button on the door; Abdule was standing in front of him, a huge grin on his face.
"Hey, kiddo, you've got a visitor!"
What?! Who? He didn't even know anybody here!
Abdule moved aside, and standing right in the middle of the living room was the braided boy from the day before. He was wearing a strange black outfit with a black baseball cap over the top part of his hair, which he was currently trying to hide his eyes under in nervousness.
The boy spoke with forced cheerfulness, as if he were even more nervous than Quatre himself. For his part, Quatre was trying not to visibly shake.
"Hey! I'm Duo, remember me, crazy boy from yesterday? I'm the one that turned you into the foot massager." Duo smiled but the smile was nervous again and it did nothing to settle Quatre's nerves.
He nodded.
A dejected look fell across the other boy's face for a moment as he gazed at Quatre, and he couldn't help but think he'd somehow hurt the boy's feelings. Then in a sudden burst of energy, Duo started again.
"Ok, hey, let's try this: Let's pretend we've never met before and that this is the first time we've ever seen each other, ok?" Duo didn't wait for a response. "Hi, I'm Duo, one of last years Recruits, and I heard you were new in our apartment block. I live one down on your left. I like video games, movies, pulling stuff apart, my boyfriends, and anything with chocolate, especially if it's my boyfriends!" A suggestive look twinkled across Duo's face, but Quatre didn't understand it anymore than the implied twist of words. "I'm in the thief program and I'm the top student, not that I'm blowing my own horn or anything, just letting you know what I'm interested in. I got here—like I said—five years ago and I'm living with Howard. He's pretty cool but you know how old guys are. Anyway, if there's trouble, I'm usually the one that caused it, but it's not my fault! Oh, and I run, I hide, but I never tell a lie; so everything I just said is true. How about you?"
The silence that followed that question was as wide as Quatre's eyes. He'd never heard anyone talk as much as Duo did, or as fast! The boy just seemed to ooze energy, with an endless supply as back up. Quatre felt immediately inadequate to answer the questions Duo had answered. Instead, he took an involuntary step back.
Duo's face fell as Abdule reached out to steady him.
"Quatre, it's ok. Duo can be a bit overwhelming at times. I think he finds some sick pleasure in driving people crazy." Abdule looked pointedly at the braided boy.
"Hey man, if you got it, use it!"
Abdule just rolled his eyes. "Quatre, why don't you just take a breath for a second, then answer Duo."
Answer him? He could barely remember the questions! But the boy seemed so intent on his response, and he found himself wanting to keep that smile on his face, he hadn't liked the frown.
Following Abdule's advice he took a deep breath and then spoke.
"I'm Quatre. I like…playing music."
"That's it?" Duo seemed put out, he'd expected more.
"I like to read."
"Oh God, it's Wufei all over again! Look there's nothing wrong with reading, but you gotta live a little! Here, I brought this for you."
Duo was too fast, his outward thrusting hand with its square object was just too fast, it didn't register as a gift, it registered as an incoming blow.
In one giant step he pressed himself against the wall, hitting both his head and his shoulders against it in his rush to get away. How many times had fists come at him like that, from all angles? Hammering mounds of flesh and bone to render his body a mismatch of blue, purple, and sickly green.
Abdule was the first to respond.
"Quatre!"
Duo was the second.
"Not again!"
And Rashid, who had been watching silently from the couch, stood up without a word.
In a kind gesture that Quatre would later realized he'd misunderstood, Abdule tried to reach out to him, to comfort him by helping to steady him; it didn't work out.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" With a dramatic shift of his body, he turned around and tripped the door sensor, immediately fleeing to the safety of his room. Once inside, he moved towards the far wall, his heart beating wildly as he tried to get away, his mind racing to find a way out.
In terror, his mind only registered the giant man coming through the door and towards him. That was all he needed to know. In a jumbled tumble, Quatre scurried across the bed when Rashid got to his side of it, before bolting for the door and running into the open space of the living room. Abdule caught him about the waist and shoulders as he ran out the door.
"NO! LET ME GO!"
"Quatre, calm—"
"LET GO!"
"I will once you—"
"please, please, please…" It was a silent prayer of hope. He could feel Abdule's emotions, feel Duo's fear at his display, and even sense Rashid's fear.
"Abdule, let Quatre go."
"But—"
"NOW!" There was little room for argument, and as Abdule's grip lessened in shock at Rashid's harsh tone, Quatre broke from his grip and moved to the safety of the other side of the room, cowering behind the far chair.
"Rad?" There was hurt in Abdule's voice, and Quatre could both hear and sense it, that knowledge calming him enough to start deciphering what had just happened.
"Quatre does not like to be touched--under any circumstances. Holding him against his will, will only make his acceptance and trust in us that much harder. You remember." And Quatre did as well, remembered the conversation he'd had with Rashid only the day before. He watched Abdule's eyes widen in understanding, before nodding once and turning towards him.
Heart still beating wildly in his chest, Quatre was slowly starting to calm down, to analyze what had just happened. The boy—Duo—had thrown a punch at him—wait, that wasn't right, not a punch, just a fist, a fist with something in it. "Here, I brought this for you." That's what he'd said, Duo had been trying to give him something, something in his hand. But what? Why? They didn't even know each other. People weren't friendly, not in real life, only on the vid, and even then it wasn't real. But Quatre sensed sincerity in Duo; he just didn't understand it. Then he'd bolted and Rashid had given chase, to hurt him—no, not to hurt him, but to do what? Maybe to stop him, to make him understand that Duo hadn't meant to hurt him? Maybe to see if he was alright? But he'd run away and Abdule had caught him. He hadn't let him go, trapped him, he was going to hurt him—but, hadn't Abdule just been trying to calm him down? He didn't know; he just didn't know anything about what was going on!
His eyes ran wildly from one man to the next, looking into their eyes. Duo's were surprised and yet sad. Rashid's were open, honest, and also sad. Abdule's held guilt, along with the sadness. Too much sadness, he didn't want to be responsible for it.
Turning cautiously, with both the chair and the coffee table between them, he spoke carefully to Duo. "You…startled me. I'm not…really good with people."
It seemed that was all Duo needed to hear.
"Yeah, I guessed. But no sweat, my guy Heero was kind of like that, totally withdrawn from the world. But don't worry about it, I'm cool with it. Plus, this place'll change you, it's good for people that don't know much, we teach you everything, honest! Maybe I'll introduce you to Heero again, I don't know if you remember or not but you met him yesterday. Anyway, he can be kinda quiet at times, but he's such a sweetheart once you get to know him…well, maybe sweetheart's too strong a word, more like sweet-tart, yeah, that sounds better. Never mind, you'll understand once you meet him. Listen, I brought this to make up for scaring you like I did yesterday. It's nothing special, just a disk with some stuff on it I thought you might like to read. Oh, and there's a game on it you might like too, not that I know what you like or anything, but I remember how hard it was for me when I first got here. Not having anything of my own or anything, I just wanted you to have something, like a welcome here kind of thing. It's a little stupid—"
"NO!" He blinked again at his outburst, so did the others. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts he tried again. "It's nice of you. I…don't have anything to give back though."
"No, you got it all wrong. See, this is a gift to say, 'thanks for picking our neighborhood to chill in,' you know, a welcome here gift. It's not a barter, I'm not trading it to you for something else, it's just a gift." Rashid noticed his discomfort.
"Duo," the braided boy turned to his general. "Quatre was not given many gifts he did not have to earn before coming here." It was a simple statement, but Quatre immediately felt some kind of connection in Duo. The other boy seemed to stop and think for a moment, before slowly nodding in a sad and even manner.
The boy turned towards him. "I understand, totally, what you're talking about. I used to live with these people that totally sucked! Anyway, they made me work for everything I got too. You'd think a priest and a nun would be better than that, but nope, the same as you. Trust me, it's different here, way different, and tons better. Howard is the best thing that's ever happened to me, well," and again the mischievous look entered his eye. "Except for maybe Heero and Wufei, but we'll get into that later.
"Anyway, this is yours, I'm gonna put it on the back of this chair and you can get it later if you want, no strings attached. Let me know if you play the game or if you want to borrow another one, I've got tons; like I said, I'm a total video game junkie!" Duo's smiled had returned full force and Quatre found that he was nodding his head in both understanding and thanks.
The disk was dropped off, and Duo had just turned around at the door for one more goodbye when Quatre spoke again. "Thank you…for the gift…and for…visiting."
He didn't think it was possible, but Duo's smile got larger.
"Hey, no problem. Like I said, I'm down one door on the left, come by and see me sometime. I've got major junk food, and since I know that Wufei's got you drinking those disgusting shakes they made me drink when I first got here, I'd understand if you wanted some good old fashioned calorie packed, low nutritional value goodness, so stop by. I'll see you around—Oh! If I'm not at Howard's, then try Zech's, and if I'm not there, then try Treize's, oh and if I'm not at any of those places, just go to the camps and scream my name really loud, someone'll get me." And then with a wink and a wave, Quatre's first visitor left.
Whirling from Duo's energetic entrance, stay, and exit, Quatre used the back of the chair to steady himself as he turned to look at the two remaining people still in the room. Abdule spoke before he could.
"Quatre, I'm really sorry. Rashid's right, I know better than to have grabbed you like that. I wasn't think. I just didn't want you to hurt yourself, and over the years I've learned that being held is a lot nicer than running away. But you've got to learn that kind of stuff in your own time. I'm really sorry, and while I can't promise it won't happen again--'cause I'm an idiot and sometimes forget my own advice--I'll try not to let it happen again."
Quatre decided not to mince words at the pain and guilt he felt coming from Abdule.
"It's…ok. I know you didn't mean to…scare me."
A soft smile crept onto Abdule's face and Quatre felt the guilt around his heart lessen. But he wasn't finished yet. Turning to Rashid, Quatre tried hard not to cheapen his words by looking away, he wanted Rashid to understand him completely.
"When you…came towards me…it scared me. I didn't know…didn't know it was you…I wouldn't have run if I'd known." His eyes fell then, but they moved quickly up as Rashid came to stand in front of him.
In a very slow and deliberate move, Rashid held up his hand, palm up to Quatre. The message was clear, even to him, 'Take my hand.' He surprised himself as he did indeed take the offered hand--if not lightly--resting his own on top of it for a second before quickly pulling it away. Rashid smiled down at him, almost beaming.
"Very good, Quatre."
He returned the smile.
* * *
The rest of the afternoon moved quickly for Rashid. He'd gone into Quatre's room at the boy's insistence, verifying that Quatre had indeed picked a few objects of his own. They were small things, things that were inexpensive and hardly worth the effort to bring them onto the colony, but Quatre had selected them and that was all Rashid needed to know.
Before, as Quatre had moved into his room to pick the personal objects after Duo had gone, he'd found himself in an awkward position with his first Recruit and lover.
Abdule might as well have been standing a thousand miles from him instead of just a few inches. Rashid had known that he needed to be more patient with his first Recruit, knowing that the younger man was trying desperately hard to make their new family work. He'd been so frightened when Quatre had bolted from Duo; terrified in a way he remembered being the first time Abdule had done something similar with him. Sadness had overwhelmed him when he'd gone after Quatre, only to see no sense of recognition in the boy's eyes for the split second it'd taken him to run away again. But the hardest part had been hearing the terrifying sound of Quatre's voice as Abdule had held him against his will.
How could he have expected Abdule to remember what his voice had sounded like all those years ago, nearly a decade? But the tone, no, the essence of the sound, had burned it's way into his soul years ago, and out of fear of losing Quatre before he'd been found, Rashid had lost his patience with his first Recruit.
But with Quatre now out of the room and Abdule avoiding eye contact, he knew it was time to talk, and quickly.
"Abdule—"
"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking—I don't know what I was thinking—I know better than to do that. You'd think I'd know better."
"It was not your fault—"
Abdule spun, anger in his eyes. "Of course it was! How many times did that exact routine play out between us? How many?! God, it must have been hundreds! I know how scary it is to be held against your will, I know and yet I did it anyway!"
Then a sad expression stole over Abdule's face, a trembling fear replacing the previous anger.
"What-what if…what I did—not letting him go…by Allah, Rashid, what if I've ruined everything! What if Quatre never trusts us again!"
Pain, agony, and terror, all feelings and thoughts he himself had had concerning Abdule so very long ago. He shook is head, reaching out for Abdule with arms intended for an embrace; Abdule just backed away.
"I mean it. What if that was it, what if I've ruined everything?"
"You have not."
"How can you be sure?! You saw him, Rashid, he ran across the room, and before that, the tone, that sound in his voice, I put it there! I did! He's afraid of me!"
Rashid had his lover wrapped tightly in strong arms before Abdule knew that he'd moved. He ran large hands through short brown hair and tight circles into a well-toned back. His voice was low and loving, promising truth and honesty.
"Quatre has already said that you did nothing but scare him. You have been kind to him since his arrival, and if you cannot, I can tell he has found a sense of kinship with you. I doubt you have noticed, but he has already started to look up to you, and he has begun to seek you out. This morning, when he asked you to again help him with the shop computer, he values your opinion, in ways that even he does not yet recognize. Quatre is adapting to you far better than to me and I am glad for it, the two of you have much in common.
"You did little more than scare him today, and he seems to already have recovered from it. He's frightened, but not entirely closed off; he is searching for meaning now, and it is important that we help him as much as we can.
"I want you to remember this moment, the guilt you feel right now, not because I wish you to suffer, but so that you remember why it is so important to think twice before saying or doing anything with Quatre. You must analyze not how you would interpret an action, but how a scared, confused, and mending boy of only fifteen would. Remember the tone in his voice, the fear, and you will know what is to be gained and lost as easily as a mistimed touch. Compare him to yourself as little as possible, the two of you are very different, far more than you are the same. Just remember how you felt and know that Quatre will feel very much the same way. And this, you forgave me when I let you go, and so has Quatre forgive you. Do not dwell on it, it will eat you alive if you do."
He felt Abdule snuggle into him, wiry hands clutching at his massive shoulders, begging for touch and comfort. With a gentle tug, he moved them both to a chair and sat, pulling Abdule to rest in his lap. His hands continued their comforting caresses while Abdule slowly allowed his words to sink in.
Finally, there was a deep and resigned sigh. "You're right, he did forgive me already. I just don't want to screw this up! I may have been just as vulnerable as he was when I first got here, but in all these years, even with Duo, Heero, and Wufei, I never saw a Recruit look as fragile on the outside as he is on the inside. I wish I could just grab my head and shove it onto his shoulders for a little while so he could see everything and not have to learn it all the hard way like we all had to. Is that how you felt? Did you want to do the same thing for me?"
A sad smile formed onto Rashid's mouth as he looked past Abdule and gazed at a picture his lover had acquired for him a few years ago. "More than anything in the world. You're pain was my own, and I never wanted you to be afraid of me. It broke my heart, and with Quatre it will probably happen again. As a Teacher, you open your heart to your Recruit, allow them to become a part of you so that you may save them from themselves. It is painful but necessary, you will understand more in time. For now, just remember what I have asked you to, and be open with him but cautious. Quatre is very much a child. As adults we must care for him until he is strong enough to care for himself."
For a long moment there was silence as Abdule contemplated all that he'd said. Then, in a flurry of movement, Abdule was pressed against him, mouth seeking reassurance that all was well between them. And Rashid offered that assurance, cradling Abdule's head in his hands as he pushed the kiss further, sweeping his tongue across unresisting lips before plunging inside for his own taste of comfort.
It was an hour before Abdule's watch started beeping, alerting them to the fact that it was once again time for another bout of convincing Quatre that he needed one more shake.
Now, hours later, dinner was over, and Rashid sat on the couch pretending to read the most recent data tracking on the new mobile suits Engineering was trying to create. But in reality he was peeking over the top of the pad, watching as Abdule and Quatre conversed over the game Duo had lent them.
"You got it, Quatre! Yeah! That's the way!"
A pure white mobile suit flew across the vid screen as Quatre moved his hands in the sensor gloves. Abdule was beside him, a goofy grin and surprise clearly displayed on his features. "Quatre, you're a natural at this!"
The game had turned out to be part mobile suit simulation and part strategy. The idea was to move your forces into position—that was the strategy part—before putting on the gloves and facing them in simulated combat. Though Rashid was impressed by how quickly Quatre had picked up on the game, he was more impressed with the easy way Quatre had approached Abdule at dinner.
Quatre finished his shake well before Rashid had sat down to listen to Abdule rattle on about nothing. Occasional questions were directed towards the small blond, but Quatre either refused to answer or gave quick responses that told less than the new questions they raised. But they were all surprised when Quatre finally lifted his bright blue eyes and waited until he had Abdule's undivided attention.
"I-I can…still sense…I mean—I don't…" he sighed. "I'm not scared of you, Abdule." Rashid didn't think it was Quatre's actual words, no, Abdule probably only heard one, his name. Quatre had said it with such kindness, far more than a boy without friendly human contact should be able to produce. But he had, and Abdule had lit up like a Christmas tree. To his credit, he only smiled kindly back to Quatre and nodded, before changing the subject.
But now it was like the two of them had been long time brothers, separated from each other and only now getting a feel for what the other was like. Quatre allowed soft smiles to upturn his lips, while Abdule made it a point of letting Quatre know he was there without invading his space.
"TO YOUR LEFT!!!" Rashid looked up from his reverie just in time to watch Quatre effortlessly rip a mobile suit apart with his fictitious one. Abdule had his hands in his hair, nearly pulling it out with stress. "By Allah, Quatre! I didn't think you were going to make it!" The blond smiled slightly, returning his concentration to the game.
Then Abdule turned to him. "Rad, are you watching this? Look at him go, and he just read the instructions an hour ago!"
A little surprised by that revelation, he rose and moved to stand close to the screen.
It was an ambush. Abdule couldn't see it yet, was only paying attention to the suits that Quatre was currently fighting, but the long range sensors on the fictitious controls alerted Rashid to the ten mobile suits in waiting just peaking into range of the radar when Quatre moved correctly. Rashid didn't hold up hope for the game continuing long.
Glancing quickly at Quatre, Rashid was stunned to see that they boy was extremely clam. Eyes transfixed to the screen, Quatre seemed to devour the information coming at him in real time simulation. His body moved with the grace of training, as if the young one had done nothing but train for the better part of the last ten years. Rashid watched the focus, the absolute direction of every single one of Quatre's senses on the task at hand; all but one. Every now and again, Quatre would pass a fleeting glance up at Abdule, and in those seconds, Rashid saw the beginnings of awe. This small blond boy of but fifteen short years was in rapture as Abdule continued to urge him forward, and Quatre soaked up the attention as his mind did the emotions he could not screen.
Suddenly the ten waiting mobile suits came out of hiding, and Abdule was screaming for Quatre to look out, and the gorgeous blond was moving his hands to and froe, the feel of the piloting stick simulated in his gloved hands. In those intense moments, Quatre did not turn to look at Abdule, but instead concentrated without a sound on the suits in front of him. As Rashid watched with the most stunned expression on his face, Quatre felled each and every one of them.
"Level 5 completed. Advance to Level 6?"
Before either himself or Abdule could say anything in congratulations or exuberant awe, Quatre was taking the gloves off and turning to regard his Teacher. There was a slight hesitation in his voice, but at the same time, it ebbed away the more syllables he spoke.
"Rashid…may I amend my order on the shop computer?"
Having an idea of what was to come, he smiled and nodded, showing Quatre with action that he understood. Then Quatre was turning to Abdule.
"I don't know much about vid games. Would you help me pick one out?" There was the barest hint of a smile, and Rashid caught Abdule's eyes before the younger man spoke.
"I'd be honored! You did a great job at the strategy part. Did you like that part?" Quatre nodded. "Great! Then why don't we look for one of those? I bet the shop computer is still linked to ours!"
A faint but definite light entered Quatre's eyes then, and Rashid was loathed to extinguish it. But it was late, and for Quatre, the night was still young and filled with challenges to come.
"Perhaps tomorrow. Now I believe it is time for another lesson. Quatre, turn the simulation off and meet Abdule and I in the bedroom." He saw the fear enter Quatre's eyes as the small boy's body stiffened. But Quatre bowed his head and nodded before reaching for the controls.
With a look between them, Rashid moved towards the bedroom, Abdule behind him, Quatre taking the gloves back into his room. When the door shut behind Abdule, effectively shuttering their conversation from Quatre, Abdule spoke hurriedly.
"Did you see him, Rad? It was like he'd been born in the cockpit or something. He's got natural talent, and Zechs'll kill something if he finds out we kept a pilot with this much potential from him." Abdule was excited. His job was the construction and repair of the mobile suits they used in training sessions, having a pilot who was as good as Quatre seemed, it was more than most builders dreamed.
Rashid tried to remain calm. "He does seem good at the controls, but a game is far different than reality. We shall see what the council thinks is the right course for Quatre."
"Yeah, but you gotta admit, he's got at least some talent."
"Freely. But like with you, I hope he is not selected as a pilot. There is too much danger in that profession." A tone of relief and thanks was in his voice and he saw when Abdule caught onto it.
"You always were trying to protect me. Quatre doesn't know how good he's got it here." A smile softened the words, but not their impact, and Rashid smiled his love.
Then the door opened, and Quatre entered.
* * *
Through the shield of his long bangs, Quatre watched the world shake as the trembles of his body shook his vision. Desperately, he closed his eyes, reasoning with his mind, begging that it come under his control like it had been before coming to this place. He was so tired of being afraid, of cowering against the unknown-everything around him. Envy, he'd envied the boy who'd brought him the game, Duo, wanting so desperately to be as carefree and joyous as he'd been.
In his room, alone with these thoughts, he'd tried to imagine what he'd be like if only he could act like Duo had, without care and yet reserved caution. To be both open and withdrawn, it was the only way Quatre could imagine life now.
He knew the moment he entered the room he'd interrupted another conversation between his Teacher and his…what? Brother? Friend? Man who did not appear to be his enemy? Quatre didn't know, had no adjectives to make the picture clearer. Silently, with the quake still in his bones, Quatre approached the bed and settled onto the edge, resting between Rashid and Abdule.
The concern rolled off the two in waves. They feared for him, and pitied him at the same time, cared for, and perhaps loved him.
"Quatre, yesterday you did exceptionally well, so today we will test you even further." His own fear stole into his muscles again and the quaking increased. Rashid didn't seem to notice. "As before, you will lie back, only this time, Abdule and I will place our palms against your shoulders. Just as before, when you can no longer stand the contact, you will let us know." It wasn't disapproval that colored Rashid's voice, he truly did believe that Quatre had done an excellent job yesterday; but still, Quatre had run, and Rashid was telling him to speak first, to let the other two men prove Quatre's faith in them. Solemnly he nodded, and with great effort, shifted back onto the bed.
Two massive forms, bodies built with mass and substance shifted once he'd settled, rising over the mattress at his knees, then the valley of his lower back. He lay still, arms crossed at his chest, the image of a beautiful boy laid out in a coffin made of invisible glass. His body was ridged and his breath came in little gasps as to minimize the rise and fall of his chest. But his face, that was the feature he knew gave him away. Terror danced across it, as it might always do when he faced such terror of his own mind's making. His fears were not justified, Quatre knew that, knew that neither man would hurt him, yet still, still he feared and lay like the dead, hoping to be overlooked again by one more man's affections.
"Are you ready, Quatre?" The sound came from his left side, and it startled him to open his eyes and look into familiar blue ones. Rashid's eyes weren't bright like his, but dulled with age and something else that Quatre knew to be pain and agony in its own right. He closed his eyes against the possibility, against the notion that someday his own eyes might dull to that shade because of the things he'd see.
"I'm ready."
And then it began. Again the touch was light and warm. Ten fingers brushed his skin in more contact than Quatre could remember focused on him in a very long time. The palms of the hands that touched him did not hold him down or imprison him as others had in the past; these lay lightly against him, so that if he breathed just so, his body retracted from them like the waves from the shore. So this is what he concentrated on, the feel of his skin moving towards and away from the flesh of these two men that seemed genuinely to care for him.
To his right Abdule spoke to him, but Quatre acknowledged nothing, focusing on the sound of his breathing, the feel of skin whispering against skin. He knew if he focused on anything else he'd be absorbed by the emotions that touched him, that threatened to overwhelm him if only he'd drop his shields. Blood flowed through his ears, and soon Abdule's voice was drowned out by the rushing sound, the whispered touches, and his constant drive to breathe to force it to continue.
Never had touch been like this. It was poison and pleasure, pain and euphoria. He wanted to hold onto it, hold it close to him because for one moment he felt more alive than ever in his live. Then in another second he wanted to push it way, fling it from attacking him as only touch could.
The whimpers escaped him without his knowing. Strangled bits and fragments of a long cry of suffering that was broken by the quick gasps of breath that kept his chest from fully taking in oxygen to give them life. The trembling returned, but only to his face. His lips that could look full and pouty when sad, or thin and hurtful when angered, shook slightly as his teeth drew the bottom one in to be worried. His eyes too constricted and then retracted, the unknown emotion playing across his face as it did his eyes beneath the flesh.
But Quatre knew none of this, only the sound of his heart, the brush of his skin against another's, and the building pressure to run and stay. And then it invaded his senses, this feeling that Quatre knew he had neither choice nor desire to run from. It broke across his shields because he'd been hoping to forestall it from the beginning by watching for it. That emotion had attacked during dinner, and again he'd tried to stop it. But some men knew words, while others action, and Quatre knew what he had to do and did not hesitate.
His eyes opened, and in one fluid motion he relaxed his face and turned to look into the handsome face not six inches from his own. The proximity frightened him, but failing--not following through--this frightened him more. To lose this thing before he'd had it, to be alone even while surrounded by people. He didn't want to be alone again.
Eyes focused on the reflection of his own, but he knew Abdule's eyes were staring directly into his. He knew and so he proceeded.
"Please, I'm not afraid of you. Please." And then he moved. Shifted out of Rashid's hand and curled his body towards Abdule's. The younger man was stunned, Quatre could feel it, but there was a sense of understanding too, and Quatre knew Abdule now understood as well. "I'm not afraid of you."
Thin arms cautiously encircled him, and though he stiffened at first, he relaxed as hands began to make long sweeping strokes across his back and shoulders. Then a cheek, rough with day long shadow, nuzzled into his hair, moving the strands with its coarseness. "I know that now, Quatre. Thank you."
But Quatre said nothing, he didn't have the strength to. So he lay where he was, curled against Abdule, his forehead pressed against the man's chest.
After a long moment, he felt Rashid's hand join Abdule's and at this intrusion to his skin, he did not flinch away from. Soft, organized emotions filtered across his senses and Quatre sighed greatly as he sunk into the caress of both the physical and spiritual. He sighed again, and against all reason he snuggled into Abdule, seeking the warmth he'd been denied for so long aboard that fading satellite. This was real, this was the present. Rashid and Abdule around him, touching him with love and peace, hope and promise of a better life than the one he'd known. Yes, this was all he'd never hoped to imagine, to dream.
He was going to be alright. Quatre's final thought as he drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.