Chapter 15
Trowa's internal clock told him it was morning even though the room only had standard issue Class A White bulbs. He didn't dare open his eyes. Years of training had taught him to awaken without the movement of a single muscle; all the better when springing an attack. But this was different, it was late in the morning, as if he'd slept for a long time, and he could hear talking, whispers of two different men about five feet from him; he recognized one as his Teacher.
They were speaking quietly, but he'd been trained to hear the slightest rustle of fabric in a field, to him it was as if they were speaking in normal tones.
The first line he heard alerted him to who the other speaker was, as Ralph addressed him. "Rashid, we have no idea what's really going on. Master Habsaba's locked himself into the ka'aba and it doesn't seem as if he's coming out anytime soon."
There was a growl, like that of a bear before the giant answered. "If he thinks the ka'aba will protect him he is more a fool that I thought. This is larger than we are, Ralph. If what Trowa said yesterday was true, then Allah delivered a message to us and we cannot ignore it."
What had he said yesterday? He'd only said a handful of sentences. He hated to talk, better to remain silent and disappear than come out of hiding for some frivols comment. But Ralph was speaking again and he wanted to hear more.
"Rad, we have to believe that Master Habsaba had a reason for what he did, or at least thought he did. And besides, Wufei now thinks Trowa acted and said what he did because of the drugs he gave him to combat the viruses in his system. I mean, my God, Rad, the poor boy's on twenty-two different medications, and you heard Wufei calling down to supplies requesting five others he didn't have in stock! There's no telling the kind of chemical reactions that could have caused in someone already as sick as Trowa. Let's not jump to any conclusions. Wufei's running tests on Trowa's blood from right after the…incident and the sample he got while Trowa was sleeping, I'm sure it was some kind of reaction."
He was on how much medication?! He'd known he was sick, he'd been sick for a long time, battling one illness after another, not daring to give into the aches and pains, the silent symptoms. But this medication had made him do something, something that was worrying Ralph and the general.
"If it allows you to function better, Ralph, then believe what you want. I however, do not believe what happened yesterday was some sort of chemical reaction. The boy was precise, I bear the wounds to prove that. I knew what he was doing, and I believe his words to Habsaba did not come from him alone." There was a great sense of dread and wonder in the giant's voice, and Trowa couldn't help but wonder what had really happened.
"Rashid, I don't care. I don't care what happened. I don't even really care about Quatre if truth be told. I know he's your Recruit, but my main reason for existence right now is to protect Trowa. I love Quatre like I do all my brothers, but Trowa is different, special to me in a way Quatre never will be. I have to do what I think is best for Trowa, just as you have to for Abdule and Quatre. I'm not going to fail him, Rashid, I won't!"
"I understand that, Ralph, more than you know. But Trowa is awake, and he made comments about Quatre and therefore it is important to me to find out what Trowa knows. I have my own opinions about what is happening, and though they differ from yours we are both after the same thing--the truth. My plan is not to harass your Recruit, Trowa is just as delicate as Quatre; but I have to understand what is happening, and I have to determine if Trowa knows why Quatre has not yet awoken."
They both cared about him. That was the first thought that surfaced in his mind. Neither one wanted anything bad to happen to him, but both had reasons for doing what needed to be done. He felt a sense of dread concerning Rashid, but somehow knew Ralph wouldn't let the giant get carried away. This new emotion of trust wasn't something he was yet willing to analyze.
"Rad, you have to remember, since Quatre now has the HIV virus, his body could just be expending all its energy trying to combat it. He may just be repairing himself"
HIV, AIDS. Trowa knew them both intimately. He remembered well the ornate throwing knife he'd traded to the doctor that performed the test which positively told him he had less than ten years to live. Treatments were unheard of in the ranks but he'd done everything he could to procure the anti-virus REHIV. He'd traded many things for the drug, most of which he didn't want to remember now that he felt safe. The virus had decimated his body, eventually wracking him with one illness after another until the pain had overwhelmed him and he'd turned to a way out.
Drugs hadn't been hard to find in the ranks. He could trade his rations for a three-hour escape from both the pain and the mental misery of his existence without much hassle. He'd moved steadily through the lower addictions, moving upward towards the things he knew killed his body faster than the virus causing him the pain. But none of it mattered, not when he couldn't feel the cold or the press of the body that forced it's way inside his. And the images. Some were horrible, bloody fields of men and women, children of all ethnic backgrounds; the smell that falls three days after the massacre. Those had been horrible, worse than the pain, enveloping his body in one torturous scene after another.
But he'd done it willingly for the boy. Trowa never saw his face, but in his dreams he knew he loved the smaller boy. As Trowa had grown up, so too had the boy, until they were both young men, primed and willing to begin something neither had ever experienced.
He'd taken L-17-Joy, the newest and fastest moving drug on Earth. The team had long since drifted off in a drunken stupor, and for the first time in months a victory had not resulted in ten men holding him down to take their turns. He'd been dreaming about the boy for years then, but that night, everything changed.
Trowa remembered the stillness before the young man arrived. The air had hung in a thick fog, and while he'd known the boy was coming, he felt a strange sense of changing around him. When the smaller boy had stepped through the mist, Trowa had understood why--the boy was naked.
They hadn't talked, there was no need for words--both knew each other from countless nights of nothing but long talks. They'd gone to each other without reservation or timidness, both embracing and kissing. Trowa had longed for a gentle touch, and with one wayward high, he'd been given it all. The other had been gentle, loving, and had offered Trowa more pleasure and desire than he'd ever felt in his seemingly endless life. It was the first time in his memory he remembered enjoying sex--but no, he couldn't call it that, and hadn't, instead naming it what it had been, love making.
But the best hadn't been the act itself, though he'd enjoyed that more than he'd ever admit in his waking hours, no the best had been after, curled against a form that offered comfort and warmth, and promised to protect him the rest of the night.
That dream had happened over two years ago, and hadn't repeated since. He'd tried again and again to find that memory before the drugs overwhelmed him, but for nothing, the dream never returned. But the boy had, invading his fogged mind to offer comfort whenever it became too much for him to bear; and often, when he was held down and desecrated, he imagined the boy was there, soothing him with his presence alone.
But now this sick boy had HIV as well, and Trowa felt a sudden kinship with him that he couldn't understand. From what he'd seen, the blond couldn't have been more than thirteen, waffish, and terrified. Well, at least they had some things in common.
Trowa was completely caught off guard by what the general said next. "It is too much of a coincidence, Ralph! Trowa's rapid rise in health, and now Quatre with a virus he didn't have upon entering the ranks, it is not possible, just as Wufei has said. If Trowa has somehow given Quatre the virus--"
NO! With a quick shift of his body, Trowa sat up, death and hatred in his eyes as he stared down the man on the far side of Quatre's bed. Trowa would never hurt, Quatre, never! The idea was so foreign to him it stung like a slap to his face and his pride. The implications of what he'd done, along with how he was feeling didn't touch him, nothing did. This man thought he'd hurt Quatre, and that was simply unacceptable.
Trowa's voice was quiet and hard when he spoke. "I didn't do anything to him."
"No, Trowa, Rashid didn't mean it that way!" Ralph was suddenly on his feet, and with two quick strides was standing next to Trowa's bed. Trowa didn't even notice when he didn't flinch away. "Trowa, Rashid's just worried, that's all. I've told you before that Rashid is Quatre's Teacher, and he cares about Quatre just as much as I do about you. He's just worried because Wufei didn't catch the fact that Quatre had the virus when he came aboard, that's all. It has nothing to do with you. It's OK, Trowa, really."
But Trowa wasn't convinced, and as he looked into the giant's eyes, he knew Rashid wasn't convinced either. He tried again. "I don't even know him. How could I have given him the virus?"
"No, Trowa, don't worry--"
"I do not know." Rashid cut in, effectively blocking what Ralph was trying to say. "It is true that Wufei did not find the HIV virus in Quatre's blood when he first arrived, and it is possible that it was simply a mistake, but it is a great coincidence that the percentages between your and Quatre's T-Cell counts are directly opposite."
Trowa wasn't buying it. "I repeat, how could I have given him the virus?"
For a moment the general looked ready to argue, but suddenly the fight seemed to drain out of him and he pulled back, slumping back into his chair. "I do not know, Trowa. I do not know." There was a finality to his tone, and Trowa sense that the giant had no basis with which to argue any further. With nothing more than a nod and a quick glance at the sick boy, Trowa turned his attention back to his now flustered Teacher.
Sudden realization of what he'd just done overwhelmed him, and in a rush, he pushed the thought aside and concentrated on the first thing he could think of. He didn't dare analyze further why and what he'd just said and done, giving away his cover like that…
He was hungry, that was one of the first things he'd recognized about his bodily state upon waking up. But he didn't dare ask for food, that was one thing that had proven time and time again to be the commodity with the largest price attached to it. But with a loud rumbling sound, it seemed he didn't have to say anything.
"Oh, I'm such an idiot! Trowa you must be starving, well, I can tell that you are. I should have thought of that. Is there anything in particular you want to eat? I told Wufei that you were going to eat a decent meal when you woke up, no more of those shakes, at least not by themselves. You have to keep drinking them, but something with a little substance might actually make you feel better. How about some soup? Does soup sound alright?"
He felt warm inside, like someone had filled up his body with something it had been missing for so long. Ralph was good to him, and Trowa was beginning to realize that the kindnesses didn't come with a price. Sure Ralph tried to touch him too much, and got too close to him, and always wanted to talk when there was nothing to say, but Trowa had been finding in his remembered days of consciousness, that he'd enjoyed Ralph's company and did not feel threatened by it.
"Soup would be fine."
"Great! Let me just run down to the camp and bring you back som--what's wrong?!"
The shiver had stolen over him involuntarily, and against all his wishes, he now knew his face displayed his fear about being left alone with the giant. A sick boy he could handle, but he was himself sick now, the room still whirling when he moved his head from side to side; there was no way he could protect himself against Rashid.
And then suddenly, both Ralph and Rashid seemed to understand. With fluid movements that didn't seem possible from one so big, Rashid stood and moved towards the door. "I have myself, not had anything to eat. If Trowa agrees to keep an eye on Quatre, then I will accompany Ralph to the mess tent."
Keep an eye on Quatre? The boy hadn't moved in who knew how long. How hard could that task be? With a nod of his head that again sent the world tipping on its axis, he gave his word. He felt Ralph touch his shoulder, and started but did not pull away.
"I'll be right back Trowa, twenty minutes at the most. Just try to relax. Don't worry if you fall asleep, I'll have things kept warm for you until you wake back up. I'll also tell Wufei not to bother you until I come back. Just rest, I'll be back soon." With a parting smile, Ralph moved to stand with Rashid, and Trowa noticed that his Teacher wasn't that much smaller than the general, before both left the room and silence fell.
It took him only a few seconds to determine what he was going to do with those twenty minutes. With a shove that should have been effortless, he swung his legs over the bed and carefully slid off the side. This time he was prepared for it when his legs buckled and he tumbled to the ground.
For a long moment he sat there, staring at the bottom half of the bed across from his. His body ached, and though it hurt, it didn't hurt as much as it had in the past. He couldn't sense the dramatic shift, but he didn't miss the tale tell signs of some narcotic in his blood stream. Ralph had told him that drugs were not to be used on the satellite, but had assured him that many before him had come in with addictions, and he would not be expected to simply stop without care, that would be cruel. He'd been given injections of one of the lesser drugs called Ola-Co, a drug often used to fight addictions. It would be a long process, the slow weaning of years of drugs from his body taking many months to complete, but Trowa had used the drugs to escape the pain and suffering, and there was little of that here; he didn't expect it to be too hard. But there was Ola- Co in his body now, he could feel it dulling the pain around the edges. He assumed the detox drug had been given to him even while he'd been in the coma.
The coma, that though alone kept him on the floor for many minutes as he contemplated what it meant. He'd lost time, time he'd never gain back, time where he'd been vulnerable. But no one had hurt him, at least in such a way that he could tell, and he'd gotten very aquatinted with the inner- workings of his body over the seventeen long years of his life. He wasn't sure what had happened yesterday, though he understood he'd said or done something, most likely under the haze of a drug miscalculation. He still didn't understand exactly what was happening on this satellite, but he wasn't expressly afraid, and that spoke a lot to a boy who was an impeccable judge of character.
But the floor was starting to get cold, and he knew if he didn't get up soon his muscles would become far too stiff to support his weight. He understood now that he wasn't in any shape to fight or defend himself, and that thought settled poorly on him when he remembered he'd given his word to Rashid to watch out for Quatre.
Lifting his hand he reached for the railing across from him and used it to pull himself up as he pushed with his shaking legs. It was hard going, and twice he fell back to his butt in the attempt. But with one final pull and a strain in his legs, Trowa stood and stared down at the most beautiful angel he'd ever seen.
Pale and wispy blond hair clung to equally pale powder white skin, and Trowa was stunned and fascinated by the tiny little hairs of Quatre's eyelashes. The boy was petite and Trowa found himself wondering how much of that was from genes as much as circumstance. His hands were tiny, delicate--the entire boy was delicate, embodying the innocence of youth and an inner soul that could not be corrupted. Trowa didn't know why, but he just knew Quatre's eyes were blue, blue like the oceans looked from outer space, not from the shore. His ears were small but pert, well proportioned to his face, as was his button nose that seemed to turn up at just the right angle to give him dignity without snobbery. His cheeks were gaunt though, and his shoulder bones protruded so that Trowa fancied he could see the brittleness of them even through the skin. There were dark circles under the boy's eyes and the effect only made the noted before lashes seem that much more like glowing lines on his face. His hair was thin, brittle looking and Trowa couldn't seem to stop himself from touching the strands, feeling there coarsens. The boy was beautiful and sickly, a fine line between that which was delicate like fine china and crystal, and that which was on the brink of death and abandonment. And it was there, standing in nothing but a pair of white hospital scrubs, cold bear feet touching the equally cold floor that Trowa remembered something from his dreams.
Quatre's skin tasted like cool ice, fresh from nature on his parched tongue. A hint of salt, just a hint to add more flavor to the tasting, to make it that much more refreshing.
With a start, Trowa reeled back, the abruptness of his ended memory causing him to step away from the metal cage and lose his balance. In the span of a thought he loosened his body to take the fall without injury; it never came.
Deceptively thin arms encircled his waist and he felt suspended in mid-air as the person holding him supported his weight without comment. Unaccustomed to being touched in anyway, Trowa righted himself quickly before turning and looking down into a pair of cobalt blue eyes encased in Japanese features. The older boy spoke before Trowa had a chance to move.
"Go slow, your balance is completely off, I'll support your weight until your ready." The tone was soft, quiet in a way that belied the steel beneath it. A small man of only five and a half feet, he conveyed a sense of power that immediately set Trowa on edge; but the dark hared boy seemed to understand. "I'm not here to hurt you. I came in to talk and saw you staring at Quatre. I caught you when you attempted to step back but fell. My name is Heero, we've met before."
There was no nonsense to him, and Trowa's initial opinion of Heero changed instantly; he liked this guy. "I'll be fine."
Heero nodded. "I'll step back but make sure you get to the bed." There was no indication Trowa had a choice with the help, so as Heero stood back away from him to spot, Trowa carefully moved back to his own bed. His legs were more at risk of failure than his arms, and he easily vaulted himself up the few inches of uncomfortable height. He noticed that while Heero did not touch him, or even attempt to, the other was poised to intercede if the need arose. It was this initial willingness to give him space while offering him assistance that shifted Heero immediately from enemy to something far less hostel.
"I'm Trowa." He said, shifting so that his tired legs now rested on plush cushions and his back pressed against the pillow he'd spent the night on.
Heero nodded again, and Trowa got the sense that Heero didn't talk much. The other waited patiently as Trowa situated himself before dragging a chair so that he could sit close by. He noticed the red box in Heero's hand only as an afterthought.
"I was one of the men that sat with you when you first arrived. I don't expect you to remember me. We've met one other time but that's not important. This is for you." And with that he unceremoniously tore open the plastic wrapping on the box and presented Trowa with an assorted box of decadent chocolates. At Trowa's put off and questioning expression, Heero explained. "They're L-1 chocolates. Noteworthy only because their the best chocolates in the colonies. When I first arrived my Teacher had a box and they were the only thing I let my guard down long enough to acquire. Duo is always telling me that I have to learn to share my experiences. Therefore I'm sharing chocolate with you. This is yours, no strings attached, and I'll never call on you to return the favor. This is also not a bribe or anything other than something I would like you to have."
The warning at the end would have seemed foreign to most, Trowa at least recognized that most did not have to offer up warnings when giving gifts. But Heero seemed to understand his reluctance, and a sudden and strange bond formed between them in those few passing seconds. For the second time in as many days, Trowa felt his guard go down. He didn't feel threatened by Heero, not in the least.
That, and unknown to anyone but him, he loved chocolate!
"Thank you, Heero."
"Hai. You're welcome." With slow movements, Heero placed the now closed box onto Trowa's bedside table before turning back to face him. His next sentence caught Trowa off guard. "Duo say's I suck at talking."
He was doing it before he even realized it, the air escaping his lungs before he could check it. The laugh sounded distant to him, as if someone else was doing it, taking in the breaths that accompanied the sounds. But it was him, and as Heero's eyes brightened in surprise and perhaps happiness, Trowa couldn't help but smile.
"You seem to be doing well to me."
A slight bow, in what must have been a far off practice for the young man, Heero thanked him with a returning half smirk. "You'll have to tell that to Duo."
Curiosity got the better of him, even though he knew he shouldn't have let it. "Who's Duo?"
This time Heero smiled. Not the half smile from before, but a full on smile that raised his eyes and lit up his face--his entire person. "Duo is…special. My partner, along with Wufei."
That gave Trowa pause. He of course now understood that all of the men on this station were homosexual, and that some would have paired off. But to learn that this man and two others were partnered, it was quiet a shock. Painfully, he understood the schematics of such a relationship, but nothing about it appealed to him. Trowa knew if he ever found someone like his dream boy, he'd never, ever, ever share.
Heero seemed to understand his silence. "Our relationship is uncommon, even here. There is only one other like ours, with three instead of two. However, we are happy, and that is enough." And with logic like that, who was he to argue.
Suddenly the door opened, and Ralph came in carrying a tray layered with food and drink, Rashid right behind him. They both stopped dead at the sight of Heero.
Ralph was the first to find his voice. "Heero, what are you doing here?"
With a shrug the young man stood. "Duo directed me to share something with Trowa; I brought him chocolate. We had a nice conversation and now that you are back I will leave. Trowa," and Heero turned back to address him even as he prepared to leave. "I hope we will be able to talk again." He didn't really know what to say, so he just nodded. "Have a nice night." And with that, Heero left.
With a sense of relief, Trowa noted that Heero had not ratted him out to Ralph.
"Well, that was nice. Did you and Heero have a nice talk?" The question was loaded as Ralph placed the tray next to Trowa's bed. But he didn't know how much to say so instead nodded and looked at the food as hunger overwhelmed him. The chocolate had reminded him he was hungry, the food that he was starving.
Ralph laughed. "Well, I'd tell you all the wonderful things you're about to eat, but I doubt you care. Just eat, you can tell Abdule you liked his hearty chicken with heavy gravy and blah blah blah, soup later, once I remember what's in it."
From across the room Rashid spoke up as Trowa hungrily attacked the soup. "Hearty chicken with heavy gravy, long rice, and light ginger soup. Knowing him, he will want a full report and critique once Trowa is finished." The two men seemed to find the title funny and they scoffed at its length as they took seats, Ralph next to him, Rashid next to Quatre's bedside.
With a pause he really didn't want to take, he addressed his general. "Quatre didn't move." His eyes locked with Rashid's for a moment before the giant slowly nodded and turned back to his Recruit. The rest of Trowa's meal was near completely silent.
* * *
Heero had been in earlier, Wufei by his side. They'd waited until the next day, when Trowa was well rested before dismissing Ralph and Rashid for food and bath. Heero had again dragged the chair over to the bed and quietly talked with him while Wufei had drawn blood, issued more drugs into the IV, and finally given Trowa a data pad containing information on all the classified viruses his body was harboring.
"I can identify fourteen different viruses in your system, twelve of which I can cure you of. The other two are not sever and can be made to lie dormant with the right medications. You will be required to take medicines for the rest of your life to prevent an outbreak, but I'm sure you understand a few small pills are better than the virus itself." He'd nodded his agreement at the appropriate times before setting the data pad on the table to be forgotten.
He'd been beyond amused when a flamboyant boy of perhaps nineteen had entered the room and proceeded to harass the other two. He learned quickly that the longhaired boy was Duo, the famous Duo from Heero's early admission, and Trowa watched as the three of them interacted together.
"Trowa, you look thirsty, are you thirst? I could run down and get you a soda or something if you want. Why don't I do that, I'll just be right back." But Duo hadn't made it as Heero had--with supremely fast reflexes-- grabbed onto the three-foot braid.
"Baka! He doesn't need a soda, he's got water right there."
"Ow! Heero let go! Wufei, tell him to let go!"
"Heero, let go."
But the Japanese boy only smiled, winding the braid once around his wrist.
"Heero! Come on, let go, please!"
"Heero, unless you want your ass in the air and my hand print across it, let Duo go!" Trowa noticed that Heero's eyes had lit up and his face turned a bit pink from embarrassment, but the overall effect was more of arousal than rejection of the idea.
But Heero released the hair and Duo instead found it quiet amusing to plop his bottom right onto Heero's lap and begin to squirm, his smile indicating when he'd achieved the desired effect. "Hee-chan, you're so predictable!" With that Duo spun, planted a sloppy kiss in his lover's mouth, before offering Trowa a wink and moving to give Wufei the same treatment. "Since it was my hair, Fei, can I please, please, please be the one to spank him, please?!"
But while Trowa was becoming slightly embarrassed, Wufei was preparing to exact revenge. "I would have let you, but you've once again insisted on calling me that ridiculous nickname after I have repeatedly told you not to. Therefore you'll share in his fate." Suddenly, Duo grabbed Wufei by the jacket and pulled him in for a kiss that seemed to raise the temperature of the room by a good ten degrees.
When it was over, Duo just winked and smiled. "I love it when my plans work so perfectly."
But the mood had sobered quickly after that as Duo had moved to Quatre's bedside, carefully running his fingers through the boy's hair. "Is he getting any better, Wufei?" Trowa had himself wondered that same question and he turned like the others to examine the doctors unspoken words.
"I haven't been able to find any indication of it. Quatre is still drifting in the coma. His body has regained its autonomic functions, but that is all." There was a sadness in Wufei's voice that spoke volumes of his compassion and true worry for his patient, and Trowa felt at once better about being under the doctor's care.
Heero had offered Duo comfort then, and half an hour later found Trowa alone with the comatose boy. He'd considered getting up again, but he didn't want to fall, his bottom still hurt from his last battle with the floor. But more than that, he was afraid, afraid that if he stood and looked at the sleeping angel across from him, he wouldn't be able to look away.
He'd found himself oddly soothed by the beeping of Quatre's cardiac monitor, and when he'd awoken in the middle of the night it was the comforting sound of another living being which cast him off to another dreamless sleep.
There was a strange kind of draw he felt towards the sick boy, and it both frightened and intrigued him as nothing had before. He considered that perhaps it was just the boy's beauty which held him captive, and indeed he hoped that was so. Trowa had no intentions of making any attachments in this place, no matter what Ralph said. He wasn't entirely sure he planned to stay here, thinking that perhaps an escape was in order once he'd gotten better and knew the layout of the place.
Remembering his resolve to be prepared to run when or if the time came, Trowa decided the least he could do would be to stretch his muscles. With a nod to himself, Trowa swung his deadened legs over the side of the bed and swung them a few times to get the blood flowing. With a sigh of resolved fate however, he shifted his eyes from his awkward legs to look at temptation and innocence personified.
He froze in place when his green eyes met crystal blue.
Trowa's internal clock told him it was morning even though the room only had standard issue Class A White bulbs. He didn't dare open his eyes. Years of training had taught him to awaken without the movement of a single muscle; all the better when springing an attack. But this was different, it was late in the morning, as if he'd slept for a long time, and he could hear talking, whispers of two different men about five feet from him; he recognized one as his Teacher.
They were speaking quietly, but he'd been trained to hear the slightest rustle of fabric in a field, to him it was as if they were speaking in normal tones.
The first line he heard alerted him to who the other speaker was, as Ralph addressed him. "Rashid, we have no idea what's really going on. Master Habsaba's locked himself into the ka'aba and it doesn't seem as if he's coming out anytime soon."
There was a growl, like that of a bear before the giant answered. "If he thinks the ka'aba will protect him he is more a fool that I thought. This is larger than we are, Ralph. If what Trowa said yesterday was true, then Allah delivered a message to us and we cannot ignore it."
What had he said yesterday? He'd only said a handful of sentences. He hated to talk, better to remain silent and disappear than come out of hiding for some frivols comment. But Ralph was speaking again and he wanted to hear more.
"Rad, we have to believe that Master Habsaba had a reason for what he did, or at least thought he did. And besides, Wufei now thinks Trowa acted and said what he did because of the drugs he gave him to combat the viruses in his system. I mean, my God, Rad, the poor boy's on twenty-two different medications, and you heard Wufei calling down to supplies requesting five others he didn't have in stock! There's no telling the kind of chemical reactions that could have caused in someone already as sick as Trowa. Let's not jump to any conclusions. Wufei's running tests on Trowa's blood from right after the…incident and the sample he got while Trowa was sleeping, I'm sure it was some kind of reaction."
He was on how much medication?! He'd known he was sick, he'd been sick for a long time, battling one illness after another, not daring to give into the aches and pains, the silent symptoms. But this medication had made him do something, something that was worrying Ralph and the general.
"If it allows you to function better, Ralph, then believe what you want. I however, do not believe what happened yesterday was some sort of chemical reaction. The boy was precise, I bear the wounds to prove that. I knew what he was doing, and I believe his words to Habsaba did not come from him alone." There was a great sense of dread and wonder in the giant's voice, and Trowa couldn't help but wonder what had really happened.
"Rashid, I don't care. I don't care what happened. I don't even really care about Quatre if truth be told. I know he's your Recruit, but my main reason for existence right now is to protect Trowa. I love Quatre like I do all my brothers, but Trowa is different, special to me in a way Quatre never will be. I have to do what I think is best for Trowa, just as you have to for Abdule and Quatre. I'm not going to fail him, Rashid, I won't!"
"I understand that, Ralph, more than you know. But Trowa is awake, and he made comments about Quatre and therefore it is important to me to find out what Trowa knows. I have my own opinions about what is happening, and though they differ from yours we are both after the same thing--the truth. My plan is not to harass your Recruit, Trowa is just as delicate as Quatre; but I have to understand what is happening, and I have to determine if Trowa knows why Quatre has not yet awoken."
They both cared about him. That was the first thought that surfaced in his mind. Neither one wanted anything bad to happen to him, but both had reasons for doing what needed to be done. He felt a sense of dread concerning Rashid, but somehow knew Ralph wouldn't let the giant get carried away. This new emotion of trust wasn't something he was yet willing to analyze.
"Rad, you have to remember, since Quatre now has the HIV virus, his body could just be expending all its energy trying to combat it. He may just be repairing himself"
HIV, AIDS. Trowa knew them both intimately. He remembered well the ornate throwing knife he'd traded to the doctor that performed the test which positively told him he had less than ten years to live. Treatments were unheard of in the ranks but he'd done everything he could to procure the anti-virus REHIV. He'd traded many things for the drug, most of which he didn't want to remember now that he felt safe. The virus had decimated his body, eventually wracking him with one illness after another until the pain had overwhelmed him and he'd turned to a way out.
Drugs hadn't been hard to find in the ranks. He could trade his rations for a three-hour escape from both the pain and the mental misery of his existence without much hassle. He'd moved steadily through the lower addictions, moving upward towards the things he knew killed his body faster than the virus causing him the pain. But none of it mattered, not when he couldn't feel the cold or the press of the body that forced it's way inside his. And the images. Some were horrible, bloody fields of men and women, children of all ethnic backgrounds; the smell that falls three days after the massacre. Those had been horrible, worse than the pain, enveloping his body in one torturous scene after another.
But he'd done it willingly for the boy. Trowa never saw his face, but in his dreams he knew he loved the smaller boy. As Trowa had grown up, so too had the boy, until they were both young men, primed and willing to begin something neither had ever experienced.
He'd taken L-17-Joy, the newest and fastest moving drug on Earth. The team had long since drifted off in a drunken stupor, and for the first time in months a victory had not resulted in ten men holding him down to take their turns. He'd been dreaming about the boy for years then, but that night, everything changed.
Trowa remembered the stillness before the young man arrived. The air had hung in a thick fog, and while he'd known the boy was coming, he felt a strange sense of changing around him. When the smaller boy had stepped through the mist, Trowa had understood why--the boy was naked.
They hadn't talked, there was no need for words--both knew each other from countless nights of nothing but long talks. They'd gone to each other without reservation or timidness, both embracing and kissing. Trowa had longed for a gentle touch, and with one wayward high, he'd been given it all. The other had been gentle, loving, and had offered Trowa more pleasure and desire than he'd ever felt in his seemingly endless life. It was the first time in his memory he remembered enjoying sex--but no, he couldn't call it that, and hadn't, instead naming it what it had been, love making.
But the best hadn't been the act itself, though he'd enjoyed that more than he'd ever admit in his waking hours, no the best had been after, curled against a form that offered comfort and warmth, and promised to protect him the rest of the night.
That dream had happened over two years ago, and hadn't repeated since. He'd tried again and again to find that memory before the drugs overwhelmed him, but for nothing, the dream never returned. But the boy had, invading his fogged mind to offer comfort whenever it became too much for him to bear; and often, when he was held down and desecrated, he imagined the boy was there, soothing him with his presence alone.
But now this sick boy had HIV as well, and Trowa felt a sudden kinship with him that he couldn't understand. From what he'd seen, the blond couldn't have been more than thirteen, waffish, and terrified. Well, at least they had some things in common.
Trowa was completely caught off guard by what the general said next. "It is too much of a coincidence, Ralph! Trowa's rapid rise in health, and now Quatre with a virus he didn't have upon entering the ranks, it is not possible, just as Wufei has said. If Trowa has somehow given Quatre the virus--"
NO! With a quick shift of his body, Trowa sat up, death and hatred in his eyes as he stared down the man on the far side of Quatre's bed. Trowa would never hurt, Quatre, never! The idea was so foreign to him it stung like a slap to his face and his pride. The implications of what he'd done, along with how he was feeling didn't touch him, nothing did. This man thought he'd hurt Quatre, and that was simply unacceptable.
Trowa's voice was quiet and hard when he spoke. "I didn't do anything to him."
"No, Trowa, Rashid didn't mean it that way!" Ralph was suddenly on his feet, and with two quick strides was standing next to Trowa's bed. Trowa didn't even notice when he didn't flinch away. "Trowa, Rashid's just worried, that's all. I've told you before that Rashid is Quatre's Teacher, and he cares about Quatre just as much as I do about you. He's just worried because Wufei didn't catch the fact that Quatre had the virus when he came aboard, that's all. It has nothing to do with you. It's OK, Trowa, really."
But Trowa wasn't convinced, and as he looked into the giant's eyes, he knew Rashid wasn't convinced either. He tried again. "I don't even know him. How could I have given him the virus?"
"No, Trowa, don't worry--"
"I do not know." Rashid cut in, effectively blocking what Ralph was trying to say. "It is true that Wufei did not find the HIV virus in Quatre's blood when he first arrived, and it is possible that it was simply a mistake, but it is a great coincidence that the percentages between your and Quatre's T-Cell counts are directly opposite."
Trowa wasn't buying it. "I repeat, how could I have given him the virus?"
For a moment the general looked ready to argue, but suddenly the fight seemed to drain out of him and he pulled back, slumping back into his chair. "I do not know, Trowa. I do not know." There was a finality to his tone, and Trowa sense that the giant had no basis with which to argue any further. With nothing more than a nod and a quick glance at the sick boy, Trowa turned his attention back to his now flustered Teacher.
Sudden realization of what he'd just done overwhelmed him, and in a rush, he pushed the thought aside and concentrated on the first thing he could think of. He didn't dare analyze further why and what he'd just said and done, giving away his cover like that…
He was hungry, that was one of the first things he'd recognized about his bodily state upon waking up. But he didn't dare ask for food, that was one thing that had proven time and time again to be the commodity with the largest price attached to it. But with a loud rumbling sound, it seemed he didn't have to say anything.
"Oh, I'm such an idiot! Trowa you must be starving, well, I can tell that you are. I should have thought of that. Is there anything in particular you want to eat? I told Wufei that you were going to eat a decent meal when you woke up, no more of those shakes, at least not by themselves. You have to keep drinking them, but something with a little substance might actually make you feel better. How about some soup? Does soup sound alright?"
He felt warm inside, like someone had filled up his body with something it had been missing for so long. Ralph was good to him, and Trowa was beginning to realize that the kindnesses didn't come with a price. Sure Ralph tried to touch him too much, and got too close to him, and always wanted to talk when there was nothing to say, but Trowa had been finding in his remembered days of consciousness, that he'd enjoyed Ralph's company and did not feel threatened by it.
"Soup would be fine."
"Great! Let me just run down to the camp and bring you back som--what's wrong?!"
The shiver had stolen over him involuntarily, and against all his wishes, he now knew his face displayed his fear about being left alone with the giant. A sick boy he could handle, but he was himself sick now, the room still whirling when he moved his head from side to side; there was no way he could protect himself against Rashid.
And then suddenly, both Ralph and Rashid seemed to understand. With fluid movements that didn't seem possible from one so big, Rashid stood and moved towards the door. "I have myself, not had anything to eat. If Trowa agrees to keep an eye on Quatre, then I will accompany Ralph to the mess tent."
Keep an eye on Quatre? The boy hadn't moved in who knew how long. How hard could that task be? With a nod of his head that again sent the world tipping on its axis, he gave his word. He felt Ralph touch his shoulder, and started but did not pull away.
"I'll be right back Trowa, twenty minutes at the most. Just try to relax. Don't worry if you fall asleep, I'll have things kept warm for you until you wake back up. I'll also tell Wufei not to bother you until I come back. Just rest, I'll be back soon." With a parting smile, Ralph moved to stand with Rashid, and Trowa noticed that his Teacher wasn't that much smaller than the general, before both left the room and silence fell.
It took him only a few seconds to determine what he was going to do with those twenty minutes. With a shove that should have been effortless, he swung his legs over the bed and carefully slid off the side. This time he was prepared for it when his legs buckled and he tumbled to the ground.
For a long moment he sat there, staring at the bottom half of the bed across from his. His body ached, and though it hurt, it didn't hurt as much as it had in the past. He couldn't sense the dramatic shift, but he didn't miss the tale tell signs of some narcotic in his blood stream. Ralph had told him that drugs were not to be used on the satellite, but had assured him that many before him had come in with addictions, and he would not be expected to simply stop without care, that would be cruel. He'd been given injections of one of the lesser drugs called Ola-Co, a drug often used to fight addictions. It would be a long process, the slow weaning of years of drugs from his body taking many months to complete, but Trowa had used the drugs to escape the pain and suffering, and there was little of that here; he didn't expect it to be too hard. But there was Ola- Co in his body now, he could feel it dulling the pain around the edges. He assumed the detox drug had been given to him even while he'd been in the coma.
The coma, that though alone kept him on the floor for many minutes as he contemplated what it meant. He'd lost time, time he'd never gain back, time where he'd been vulnerable. But no one had hurt him, at least in such a way that he could tell, and he'd gotten very aquatinted with the inner- workings of his body over the seventeen long years of his life. He wasn't sure what had happened yesterday, though he understood he'd said or done something, most likely under the haze of a drug miscalculation. He still didn't understand exactly what was happening on this satellite, but he wasn't expressly afraid, and that spoke a lot to a boy who was an impeccable judge of character.
But the floor was starting to get cold, and he knew if he didn't get up soon his muscles would become far too stiff to support his weight. He understood now that he wasn't in any shape to fight or defend himself, and that thought settled poorly on him when he remembered he'd given his word to Rashid to watch out for Quatre.
Lifting his hand he reached for the railing across from him and used it to pull himself up as he pushed with his shaking legs. It was hard going, and twice he fell back to his butt in the attempt. But with one final pull and a strain in his legs, Trowa stood and stared down at the most beautiful angel he'd ever seen.
Pale and wispy blond hair clung to equally pale powder white skin, and Trowa was stunned and fascinated by the tiny little hairs of Quatre's eyelashes. The boy was petite and Trowa found himself wondering how much of that was from genes as much as circumstance. His hands were tiny, delicate--the entire boy was delicate, embodying the innocence of youth and an inner soul that could not be corrupted. Trowa didn't know why, but he just knew Quatre's eyes were blue, blue like the oceans looked from outer space, not from the shore. His ears were small but pert, well proportioned to his face, as was his button nose that seemed to turn up at just the right angle to give him dignity without snobbery. His cheeks were gaunt though, and his shoulder bones protruded so that Trowa fancied he could see the brittleness of them even through the skin. There were dark circles under the boy's eyes and the effect only made the noted before lashes seem that much more like glowing lines on his face. His hair was thin, brittle looking and Trowa couldn't seem to stop himself from touching the strands, feeling there coarsens. The boy was beautiful and sickly, a fine line between that which was delicate like fine china and crystal, and that which was on the brink of death and abandonment. And it was there, standing in nothing but a pair of white hospital scrubs, cold bear feet touching the equally cold floor that Trowa remembered something from his dreams.
Quatre's skin tasted like cool ice, fresh from nature on his parched tongue. A hint of salt, just a hint to add more flavor to the tasting, to make it that much more refreshing.
With a start, Trowa reeled back, the abruptness of his ended memory causing him to step away from the metal cage and lose his balance. In the span of a thought he loosened his body to take the fall without injury; it never came.
Deceptively thin arms encircled his waist and he felt suspended in mid-air as the person holding him supported his weight without comment. Unaccustomed to being touched in anyway, Trowa righted himself quickly before turning and looking down into a pair of cobalt blue eyes encased in Japanese features. The older boy spoke before Trowa had a chance to move.
"Go slow, your balance is completely off, I'll support your weight until your ready." The tone was soft, quiet in a way that belied the steel beneath it. A small man of only five and a half feet, he conveyed a sense of power that immediately set Trowa on edge; but the dark hared boy seemed to understand. "I'm not here to hurt you. I came in to talk and saw you staring at Quatre. I caught you when you attempted to step back but fell. My name is Heero, we've met before."
There was no nonsense to him, and Trowa's initial opinion of Heero changed instantly; he liked this guy. "I'll be fine."
Heero nodded. "I'll step back but make sure you get to the bed." There was no indication Trowa had a choice with the help, so as Heero stood back away from him to spot, Trowa carefully moved back to his own bed. His legs were more at risk of failure than his arms, and he easily vaulted himself up the few inches of uncomfortable height. He noticed that while Heero did not touch him, or even attempt to, the other was poised to intercede if the need arose. It was this initial willingness to give him space while offering him assistance that shifted Heero immediately from enemy to something far less hostel.
"I'm Trowa." He said, shifting so that his tired legs now rested on plush cushions and his back pressed against the pillow he'd spent the night on.
Heero nodded again, and Trowa got the sense that Heero didn't talk much. The other waited patiently as Trowa situated himself before dragging a chair so that he could sit close by. He noticed the red box in Heero's hand only as an afterthought.
"I was one of the men that sat with you when you first arrived. I don't expect you to remember me. We've met one other time but that's not important. This is for you." And with that he unceremoniously tore open the plastic wrapping on the box and presented Trowa with an assorted box of decadent chocolates. At Trowa's put off and questioning expression, Heero explained. "They're L-1 chocolates. Noteworthy only because their the best chocolates in the colonies. When I first arrived my Teacher had a box and they were the only thing I let my guard down long enough to acquire. Duo is always telling me that I have to learn to share my experiences. Therefore I'm sharing chocolate with you. This is yours, no strings attached, and I'll never call on you to return the favor. This is also not a bribe or anything other than something I would like you to have."
The warning at the end would have seemed foreign to most, Trowa at least recognized that most did not have to offer up warnings when giving gifts. But Heero seemed to understand his reluctance, and a sudden and strange bond formed between them in those few passing seconds. For the second time in as many days, Trowa felt his guard go down. He didn't feel threatened by Heero, not in the least.
That, and unknown to anyone but him, he loved chocolate!
"Thank you, Heero."
"Hai. You're welcome." With slow movements, Heero placed the now closed box onto Trowa's bedside table before turning back to face him. His next sentence caught Trowa off guard. "Duo say's I suck at talking."
He was doing it before he even realized it, the air escaping his lungs before he could check it. The laugh sounded distant to him, as if someone else was doing it, taking in the breaths that accompanied the sounds. But it was him, and as Heero's eyes brightened in surprise and perhaps happiness, Trowa couldn't help but smile.
"You seem to be doing well to me."
A slight bow, in what must have been a far off practice for the young man, Heero thanked him with a returning half smirk. "You'll have to tell that to Duo."
Curiosity got the better of him, even though he knew he shouldn't have let it. "Who's Duo?"
This time Heero smiled. Not the half smile from before, but a full on smile that raised his eyes and lit up his face--his entire person. "Duo is…special. My partner, along with Wufei."
That gave Trowa pause. He of course now understood that all of the men on this station were homosexual, and that some would have paired off. But to learn that this man and two others were partnered, it was quiet a shock. Painfully, he understood the schematics of such a relationship, but nothing about it appealed to him. Trowa knew if he ever found someone like his dream boy, he'd never, ever, ever share.
Heero seemed to understand his silence. "Our relationship is uncommon, even here. There is only one other like ours, with three instead of two. However, we are happy, and that is enough." And with logic like that, who was he to argue.
Suddenly the door opened, and Ralph came in carrying a tray layered with food and drink, Rashid right behind him. They both stopped dead at the sight of Heero.
Ralph was the first to find his voice. "Heero, what are you doing here?"
With a shrug the young man stood. "Duo directed me to share something with Trowa; I brought him chocolate. We had a nice conversation and now that you are back I will leave. Trowa," and Heero turned back to address him even as he prepared to leave. "I hope we will be able to talk again." He didn't really know what to say, so he just nodded. "Have a nice night." And with that, Heero left.
With a sense of relief, Trowa noted that Heero had not ratted him out to Ralph.
"Well, that was nice. Did you and Heero have a nice talk?" The question was loaded as Ralph placed the tray next to Trowa's bed. But he didn't know how much to say so instead nodded and looked at the food as hunger overwhelmed him. The chocolate had reminded him he was hungry, the food that he was starving.
Ralph laughed. "Well, I'd tell you all the wonderful things you're about to eat, but I doubt you care. Just eat, you can tell Abdule you liked his hearty chicken with heavy gravy and blah blah blah, soup later, once I remember what's in it."
From across the room Rashid spoke up as Trowa hungrily attacked the soup. "Hearty chicken with heavy gravy, long rice, and light ginger soup. Knowing him, he will want a full report and critique once Trowa is finished." The two men seemed to find the title funny and they scoffed at its length as they took seats, Ralph next to him, Rashid next to Quatre's bedside.
With a pause he really didn't want to take, he addressed his general. "Quatre didn't move." His eyes locked with Rashid's for a moment before the giant slowly nodded and turned back to his Recruit. The rest of Trowa's meal was near completely silent.
* * *
Heero had been in earlier, Wufei by his side. They'd waited until the next day, when Trowa was well rested before dismissing Ralph and Rashid for food and bath. Heero had again dragged the chair over to the bed and quietly talked with him while Wufei had drawn blood, issued more drugs into the IV, and finally given Trowa a data pad containing information on all the classified viruses his body was harboring.
"I can identify fourteen different viruses in your system, twelve of which I can cure you of. The other two are not sever and can be made to lie dormant with the right medications. You will be required to take medicines for the rest of your life to prevent an outbreak, but I'm sure you understand a few small pills are better than the virus itself." He'd nodded his agreement at the appropriate times before setting the data pad on the table to be forgotten.
He'd been beyond amused when a flamboyant boy of perhaps nineteen had entered the room and proceeded to harass the other two. He learned quickly that the longhaired boy was Duo, the famous Duo from Heero's early admission, and Trowa watched as the three of them interacted together.
"Trowa, you look thirsty, are you thirst? I could run down and get you a soda or something if you want. Why don't I do that, I'll just be right back." But Duo hadn't made it as Heero had--with supremely fast reflexes-- grabbed onto the three-foot braid.
"Baka! He doesn't need a soda, he's got water right there."
"Ow! Heero let go! Wufei, tell him to let go!"
"Heero, let go."
But the Japanese boy only smiled, winding the braid once around his wrist.
"Heero! Come on, let go, please!"
"Heero, unless you want your ass in the air and my hand print across it, let Duo go!" Trowa noticed that Heero's eyes had lit up and his face turned a bit pink from embarrassment, but the overall effect was more of arousal than rejection of the idea.
But Heero released the hair and Duo instead found it quiet amusing to plop his bottom right onto Heero's lap and begin to squirm, his smile indicating when he'd achieved the desired effect. "Hee-chan, you're so predictable!" With that Duo spun, planted a sloppy kiss in his lover's mouth, before offering Trowa a wink and moving to give Wufei the same treatment. "Since it was my hair, Fei, can I please, please, please be the one to spank him, please?!"
But while Trowa was becoming slightly embarrassed, Wufei was preparing to exact revenge. "I would have let you, but you've once again insisted on calling me that ridiculous nickname after I have repeatedly told you not to. Therefore you'll share in his fate." Suddenly, Duo grabbed Wufei by the jacket and pulled him in for a kiss that seemed to raise the temperature of the room by a good ten degrees.
When it was over, Duo just winked and smiled. "I love it when my plans work so perfectly."
But the mood had sobered quickly after that as Duo had moved to Quatre's bedside, carefully running his fingers through the boy's hair. "Is he getting any better, Wufei?" Trowa had himself wondered that same question and he turned like the others to examine the doctors unspoken words.
"I haven't been able to find any indication of it. Quatre is still drifting in the coma. His body has regained its autonomic functions, but that is all." There was a sadness in Wufei's voice that spoke volumes of his compassion and true worry for his patient, and Trowa felt at once better about being under the doctor's care.
Heero had offered Duo comfort then, and half an hour later found Trowa alone with the comatose boy. He'd considered getting up again, but he didn't want to fall, his bottom still hurt from his last battle with the floor. But more than that, he was afraid, afraid that if he stood and looked at the sleeping angel across from him, he wouldn't be able to look away.
He'd found himself oddly soothed by the beeping of Quatre's cardiac monitor, and when he'd awoken in the middle of the night it was the comforting sound of another living being which cast him off to another dreamless sleep.
There was a strange kind of draw he felt towards the sick boy, and it both frightened and intrigued him as nothing had before. He considered that perhaps it was just the boy's beauty which held him captive, and indeed he hoped that was so. Trowa had no intentions of making any attachments in this place, no matter what Ralph said. He wasn't entirely sure he planned to stay here, thinking that perhaps an escape was in order once he'd gotten better and knew the layout of the place.
Remembering his resolve to be prepared to run when or if the time came, Trowa decided the least he could do would be to stretch his muscles. With a nod to himself, Trowa swung his deadened legs over the side of the bed and swung them a few times to get the blood flowing. With a sigh of resolved fate however, he shifted his eyes from his awkward legs to look at temptation and innocence personified.
He froze in place when his green eyes met crystal blue.