Chapter 16
Pain raced through every fiber of his body. Each movement he made pulled the skin taunt somewhere else, ruining his body's natural ability to stop the bleeding. He was light headed as the pain began to lessen, leaving him with the knowledge that he didn't have much longer to live. Dark spots shifted around his vision as the heat from the sun scorched his skin. His bloody clothes had been stripped from his body when he'd been thrown out of the city so that he now stood naked under the blazing sun; he knew his fate already.
There was a sound, distant, but Quatre knew it was close--that only his impending death made everything seem so far away. He heard someone call his name, a torn and broken voice that Quatre knew and desperately never wanted to hear sound that way again.
He tried to turn, to look behind him at the speaker, but the movement caused the dark spots to expand, blocking out the sun. His legs buckled under him and with a brief flash of pain he felt the desert sand crushed into his open wounds.
It was getting harder and harder to breath and Quatre simply wanted to rest, he was so tired. Tired of everything, everything except one thing.
"Trowa…"
"Quatre!" Strong arms tried to wrap about him but they pulled against his burned and bleeding skin and Quatre's scream of agony halted further movement. "Quatre, no."
He knew he wouldn't die right away, he'd linger, putting his loved ones in such agony. He didn't want that to happen, didn't want Trowa to suffer anymore than he already was going to. But there was nothing he could do, no way for him to fight what was coming. Now was not the time for hope but the time for action. Desperately he wished he could see Trowa's eyes one more time, eyes he'd loved from the moment he'd seen them.
"Trowa…I lo…ove you…"
This time when Trowa lifted him from the sand, desperately calling his name and begging him not to leave, Quatre didn't feel the pain, he didn't feel anything at all.
* * *
The beeping sound had woken him up, it was annoying. There was another sound too, one that didn't belong on his satellite. It was also bright, too bright, their was no lighting on his satellite either, at least none that could function without the aid from the solar plates, and he shouldn't be in range for them, at least not now.
Slowly, mindful of the bright lights, Quatre opened his eyes. It was too bright. White light halloed everything, making outlines impossible to define. He slammed his eyes shut. He must have slept longer than he'd thought, the satellite must have already rotated to gather the sun's energy. But the lights were too bright, and his vision was bleary, as if he hadn't opened his eyes in a very long time. Resisting the urge to rub his eyes, he lay quietly, absorbing the warmth.
The beeping was still there and Quatre found himself wincing at the only thing that sound could mean. His generator must be malfunctioning. That explained the light and heat. His cell packs would deplete their energy too quickly at this rate and he'd be in the dark for weeks before the satellite's orbit returned to gather more solar energy. He had to get up and fix it, he didn't have a choice, even if he was warm.
Resigning himself to the task, Quatre opened his eyes in time to see a blurry dark object rise from in front of him. He couldn't see it! His eyes wouldn't adjust no matter how hard he blinked. The thing was moving, swinging back and forth.
Panic welled up inside him and Quatre found himself frozen with fear as he tried desperately to clear his vision. One blink, then another--it wasn't working!
Suddenly the dark object stopped moving and Quatre felt the sudden shock from the other person--for person is what the dark spot was.
For a moment neither figure moved, and Quatre found it impossible to breathe, his heart beating so quickly he thought he could hear it reflected in the beeping of the generator's warning.
There were so many emotions, his own fear, the shock from the other person, his own shock at waking up on his satellite not alone. What was this person doing on his--wait! His father! No it couldn't be, it was too soon! And he'd slept though the greeting his father always expected. Allah no! He'd never survive this beating.
He was so confused, his body aching from the sudden tightness of his muscles. He closed his eyes, trying one last time to blink away the confusion. This time it worked.
At the flash of distinct shapes and colors Quatre's world fell into place. He was lying on some kind of bed, and directly across from him was his father, sitting on the opposite bed in…pajamas? But wait. His eyes were the wrong color, green instead of blue, and why did his father look so young, so…vulnerable? And shock? Shouldn't his father be furious with him? And the room, it didn't look anything like his satellite.
"Quatre?"
That voice didn't sound like his father's. Questioning, as if his father didn't know exactly who he was. And then, just as clearly as the room had come into focus, so too did Quatre's mind.
The Maguanacs. He was a Maguanac. His father had brought him to the station in hopes of getting rid of him, and he'd succeeded. Rashid and Abdule. They were his family now, his Teacher and fellow Recruit. He was safe here, his father couldn't get to him anymore. Allah loved him, and he was to become the defender of nations protecting Muslims everywhere. He was Quatre of the Maguanacs. He was safe. Then who the hell was that?!
The voice tried again. "Quatre? Is that your--"
Quatre didn't know who this person was! He didn't recognize him! And the emotions, the turmoil coming off the other were like weights against his mind. Where was Rashid? Where was Abdule? Oh God they'd left him! He was all alone, again! NO! He couldn't be! He couldn't be alone again! He'd rather die than be alone all over again! NO!
With every ounce of strength he possessed Quatre pushed with his whole body to get away from the voice and those emotions. But with dawning horror, Quatre realized his body was like something without structure and it collapsed against the sheets, his struggles and whimpers doing little more than attesting to his weakened state. In vain he tried to slink way, but his muscles wouldn't cooperate and his attempts to move away did little more than dent the mattress he lay on.
In a last and desperate attempt, Quatre pulled his body inwards, his legs-- though uncooperative--pulled up, bringing knees to chest and arms about his head, protecting all of himself that he could. His whimpers were fierce, the shaking of his limbs not even a concern as he waited for the abuse he was sure to suffer.
He sensed confusion but wasn't sure if it was his own or the other occupants. He heard a sigh past his whimpers and the constant beeping that had become nothing but background noise in the wake of his terrifying discovery.
A sudden rustling of fabric alerted him to the figure's movements and Quatre curled in on himself even more, so that his chest barely had room to draw in oxygen. There was a thump and then a soft curse, and Quatre opened his eyes in the darkness of his arms to wonder what that sound could mean.
More rustling fabric and a few more swear words from the other before Quatre heard the scraping of something against false wood. The next thing he knew the mattress indented heavily by his drawn up feet, and the shock of it propelled him to sit up, eyes frantic.
But his muscles wouldn't hold him and as he fearfully noted that the boy-- for that is what he was--was sitting on his bed. His arms gave out from under him and he sank against the pillows, defeat and fear clearly written across his face.
The boy stared at him, his emerald eyes boring into Quatre so that the blond felt trapped in his place, his heart and chest racing against his terror. Those eyes, they were so familiar, and so frighteningly blank. They studied him, assessing him in ways that Quatre couldn't understand. The boy didn't move any further towards him, and so Quatre stayed where he was, tears of fear brimming his eyes but refusing to fall.
Finally, the boy seemed to come to a decision.
With slow and deliberate movements, the boy looked down at a box in his hand before removing the lid with care. Quatre watched with the cold air of the unknown dancing over his senses. He didn't know what was going on, he was alone, he was weak, and he couldn't seem to get away from the confusion that the other boy was giving off in waves.
When the lid was removed, another of Quatre's sense became aware. There was a sweet smell, like sugar and something he could remember from his childhood but couldn't place.
He watched as the boy removed a white sheet from the box, and then the smell overwhelmed him as Quatre saw the darkly colored objects within. Some were round while others looked domed, some square while others had no shape he could define. They were all small though, smaller than a quarter of his palm, and Quatre found he was curious enough to take his eyes away from the stranger's and focus on the box.
He felt the emotions from the other change. Where once there was confusion now was a sense of something close to happiness. Startled by this, Quatre looked away from the box and up toward the boy, weariness in his eyes and fatigue in his face.
They locked eyes for a long moment before the boy slowly extended the box towards him. The voice that spoke was soothing and calm, the tone deep and relaxing.
"Would you like a chocolate, Quatre?"
What?! He didn't even know this boy! He was in a strange place, abandoned by his Teacher and Abdule, struggling just to remain upright, and this boy was offering him something sweet smelling from a red box! This wasn't happening!
Shaking, Quatre pulled away from the proffered box. He struggled, and after a few seconds of trial, managed to draw his knees up against his upright chest. His arms went around his knees, and his head, too heavy for his weakened neck, fell to rest against them. He closed his eyes in the hopes of vanishing.
But the boy didn't seem deterred.
"Would you like a chocolate, Quatre?"
How did this boy know his name? Opening his eyes, Quatre regarded the boy in front of him. He was tall, Quatre could see that right away. There was something familiar about him too, his eyes haunted something in Quatre's mind. But his hair, falling over one eye, it was so much like his father's, and Quatre found himself in a desperate struggle--half of him wanting to trust the boy completely, the other terrified to even look at him.
Softly he shook his head.
But again, as if the boy were on a broken data stream, he repeated himself one more time.
"Would you like a chocolate, Quatre?"
Now, afraid that he'd missed some custom he didn't understand, his eyes took on more fear and his body collapsed into itself even tighter. But, for some unknown reason he spoke, his voice shaky and quiet at best.
"…how do…how do you know my name?"
The boy seemed to think on it a moment, confusion in his eyes again. Then, casually, he shrugged. "We met in the hallway outside the camps, then again in the hanger. Someone said your name was Quatre."
And then it clicked into place. That was how he knew this boy. Trowa, his name was Trowa, and he was the other Recruit. He'd been the one to keep…Duo! Yes Duo, from getting too close to him. He knew Trowa, they'd met before, in the hallway, the hanger, and…somewhere else?
Shaking his head silently at his last thoughts, Quatre shifted; his tight grip about his knees lessening.
"T-Trowa, right?"
The other nodded his head.
"Would you like a chocolate, Quatre?"
The dialogue seemed strange to Quatre; how the boy kept repeating the same question, over and over. Worried he'd somehow insult the boy, Quatre tried his best to cover up his ignorance.
"I-I don't know. I've…never had one before."
He sensed it first, a flash of pain from the boy across from him. It was so foreign, this feeling that others felt pain for what he'd been through. Quatre watched as Trowa nodded his head and slowly drew the box back towards his chest. Nimble and long fingers carefully ran over the undisturbed box of chocolates before selecting one. Trowa brought the dark blob to his mouth before biting into half of it. His eyes closed and he seemed to savor the flavor before opening them again and swallowing the treat.
Quatre stared, stunned and silent at the display before him. Watching Trowa bite into the chocolate and roll the food around in his mouth had caused a strange sensation to course through his body, resulting in a shiver he didn't understand.
But Trowa was looking at him now, the boy's hand and fingers extending the other half of the chocolate towards him. Quatre was startled when he found his body had not flinched away.
"It has a cherry in the center, surrounded by a cherry liquid. It's not poisoned, otherwise I never would have taken half. Try it." And the sweet was then slightly shaken in Quatre's direction.
This was nuts! He wasn't going to share food with the--
He watched his hand as it slowly reached out to take the half-eaten piece of chocolate. What was he doing!? Why was his hand moving without his instructions?! Allah, what was going on?!
As if outside his body, Quatre watched his hand accept the chocolate, mindful to keep skin from touching skin. Then in less time than a thought, the candy was brought to his lips and pushed past them into the waiting cavern of his mouth.
Flavor exploded, and a sugary sweetness invaded his senses so that Quatre had to close his eyes to capture all the different sensations happening in his mouth. The chocolate was creamy, the sweet center of the liquid cherry flowing over his tongue and tickling his molars. The cherry was a sold mass and with delicate movements, Quatre allowed his teeth to mash the fruit into a paste that tasted even sweeter than the whole. He found himself whimpering at the taste, it was like heaven, a taste he'd never had before and desperately wanted to have again.
It was a long minute that Quatre savored the first taste of chocolate he'd had in over ten years. When he finally managed to open his eyes, he found Trowa staring at him, a shocked and dark expression in his eyes. It was gone in a flash, replaced by the blank look that was often there, but his eyes remained the same, the green of his eyes nearly encompassed by the black of his pupils.
And then without question or fan fair, it happened again. Without words, Trowa selected another chocolate and brought it to his mouth. Again he bit into half of it and savored the taste before opening his eyes and slowly handing the confection to Quatre.
"There's caramel in the center. It's a little chewy."
And then Quatre took the candy, his mind now working with his body to accept the gift. Then, just as before, the flavor exploded in his mouth, firing off senses Quatre wasn't even aware he had. This time, when the chocolate was finished, he brought his fingers to his tongue to lick off the last of the sugar.
And again.
"Nuts this time. A walnut I think."
And again.
"Coconut. It's sweet and a little crunchy." A pause. "They're my favorites."
The boy seemed startled that he'd said the last but he'd seemed more startled when Quatre refused to take the treat.
"If it's your favorite…you eat it."
For a moment neither boy moved, and then Trowa shook his head and offered the candy again. "You won't know if they're your favorite unless you try them yourself. Besides, there's another on the bottom tray." Again, another pause. "I-I want you to try it."
A little startled, Quatre took the candy and placed it onto his waiting tongue. It was sweet and as Trowa had said, crunchy. He worked the fibers around his molars, struggling with his fatigue to finish the candy.
"Did you like that one?" It seemed important to Trowa, as if he truly needed to know if Quatre had liked it or not.
He thought for a moment, trying to analyze how he felt about the candy. Finally he nodded. "It was good, sweet. I'm…a little tired…I don't know why. It was hard to chew it so much."
"Was it your favorite?" There was no desperation in Trowa's voice, but his eyes--his soul--seemed to carry it. Quatre was stunned silent by it, afraid to answer the wrong way and upset his new…friend?
Carefully, he shook his head. "I-I think I liked the…nut one better."
"Oh."
And suddenly, Quatre was terrified by the continued blank expression on Trowa's face.
"I-Is that bad?"
Trowa considered this for a moment before shaking his head.
"No, it's good. That means I can have the one on the bottom tray. Besides, you've never liked the coconut ones…" Trowa's voice fell away as he realized what he'd just said, and his eyes flew to meet Quatre's, a thinly veiled panic settling in both of their eyes.
"…I've never had coconut before."
Trowa nodded, his eyes still large and confused, a touch of fear in their dilation. "I don't know why…I said that."
For a long moment they just stared at each other, neither moving as they explored each other's eyes.
The sound of the hydraulic door burst into their moment of discovery however, and the loud exclamation had Quatre sitting back with fear, and Trowa turning around to glare at the interruption.
"HOLY SHIT! QUATRE, YOU'RE AWAKE!" With that, Duo flew into the room and ran up to the bottom edge of Quatre's bed.
Suddenly the fear was back, and as if the last fifteen minutes had never happened, Quatre pulled in on himself, cowering away from the newcomer. His body began to shake again, and his eyes looked fearfully between Duo and Trowa.
Duo seemed to understand a split second later as he pushed away from the bed and took two steps back. "Hey, it's cool Q. Everything's going to be ok."
The door opened again however, and with a sense of relief he didn't think he'd ever be able to explain or understand, tears gathered in his eyes and fell down his cheeks as he saw the powerful image of his Teacher and brother in the doorway.
"Quatre!"
He didn't even know he'd done it until much later. His body uncurled from itself and with his entire body he opened himself up for Rashid's embrace. The giant man was strong, pulling Quatre tightly to him, lifting Quatre's tired body against a chest that was strong and capable. Thick fingers ran through his hair, and Quatre felt the familiar emotions of his Teacher flood his senses, the relief and fear momentarily overpowering him.
"Oh, God Quatre, we were so worried." And there was Abdule, his long fingers running comfortingly across his back. Abdule maneuvered himself so that he too was hugging the fragile blond.
Quatre's fingers gripped at Rashid's shirt, his body trying desperately to crawl into the comfort and love he sensed from his Teacher. Quatre's emotions were turbulent, the emotions of those around him pounded into his senses, filling the void of nothingness with feelings he didn't dare hope were all for him.
The tears of frustration and relief fell from his eyes and he rubbed his face into Rashid's shoulder as the man softly rocked him back and forth, occasionally laying light kisses into his hair.
He didn't recognize the contact as something to be afraid of. He wanted it, wanted to remember what it felt like to be in these arms, to feel warm and protect, to feel wanted. He'd been in a cold dark place before, silent and scary, his dreams haunted by the nightmares of his past. When he'd thought Rashid had abandoned him…well it wasn't true, his Teacher was here, Rashid was here. Quatre just wanted to melt into him and never let go.
His voice came out as a sob when the words finally worked past his lips.
"You--you came. You--came b--back. You--didn't--didn't leave--me."
The arms about him tightened, and he felt Abdule's hold on him tighten as well. "Never, Quatre. I would never leave you. Never."
"Quatre you silly, silly boy! God I was so scared, so scared…" And then Abdule was crying and Quatre found his arms went from being around Rashid to being around Abdule. His brother held him tightly, while Quatre gripped the fellow Arabian about the neck, refusing to let go as Rashid's massive frame enveloped them both.
"Hush now, both of you. Everything will be all right now. Everything will be alright."
Quatre nodded just as Abdule did, the words of their Teacher reinforcing what they already knew.
Safe and warm, loved and comforted, Quatre felt the last of his strength give out as his hands fell from about Abdule's neck. His brother gripped his frame as Quatre sank, his eyes drifting shut as he struggled to remain awake.
"Rad?"
"Quatre, are you alright? Quatre?"
He tried to nod, tried to tell them that he was tired, that the emotions pressing upon him were making him sleepy. They were all warm, all except that one familiar one, the one he somehow knew was from Trowa. It seemed colder somehow, as if…as if not happy about the reunion happening before him, as if he was…jealous.
Not wanting to isolate his new friend, Quatre struggled to turn his head, and looked to where he'd last seen Trowa. But the boy wasn't there, and Quatre felt a well of panic settle around him that brought life to his body as he struggled to pull away from Rashid and sit up.
"Quatre, what is--"
"W-where's--Trowa?" His voice was tired but strong, his need to find the other boy outweighing even his need to reassure his Teacher.
"Here." And with the sound of Trowa's voice, Quatre turned his head to see that the red haired boy had moved back to his own bed, a tall and burly man standing over him protectively, a beefy hand on Trowa's thin shoulder.
Suddenly frightened by the newcomer so close to Trowa, Quatre recoiled against Rashid's chest, holding tightly the arm that settled across his own. He eyed the stranger warily, watching for false movements that could harm his new friend. There was something about this man that Quatre didn't like, something about him that grated on him, made the hairs on the back of his neck want to stand on end. He felt…jealous?!
"Trowa?" His voice was quiet, even to him.
The other boy seemed to pause for a second, not accustomed to being spoken to. Finally he nodded for Quatre to continue.
A quick glance at the man beside Trowa convinced him to ask his question. "What did you…did you want for the…chocolate?"
The question seemed to confuse everyone in the room, he could sense it strongly from his Teacher and the man beside Trowa. But oddly, Duo and the boy Quatre recognized as the doctor, didn't seemed confused at all, and neither did Trowa.
In the other bed, Trowa sat up a little straighter, absently brushing off the hand of the man towering above him--much to Quatre's relief.
"Nothing. It was a…gift, for me and now a gift for you."
Stunned, Quatre searched critically trying to find some kind of hidden meaning or ulterior motive for Trowa's kindness. In the end, he found none, and cautiously relaxed against Rashid, his eyes closing on their own from fatigue.
"Th-thank you, Trowa." A yawn escaped his lips so that he almost didn't hear Trowa's reply.
"Y-you're welcome."
When Rashid called his name a few seconds later, Quatre simply couldn't find the strength to answer. Instead, he let sleep wash over him and take him away.
Pain raced through every fiber of his body. Each movement he made pulled the skin taunt somewhere else, ruining his body's natural ability to stop the bleeding. He was light headed as the pain began to lessen, leaving him with the knowledge that he didn't have much longer to live. Dark spots shifted around his vision as the heat from the sun scorched his skin. His bloody clothes had been stripped from his body when he'd been thrown out of the city so that he now stood naked under the blazing sun; he knew his fate already.
There was a sound, distant, but Quatre knew it was close--that only his impending death made everything seem so far away. He heard someone call his name, a torn and broken voice that Quatre knew and desperately never wanted to hear sound that way again.
He tried to turn, to look behind him at the speaker, but the movement caused the dark spots to expand, blocking out the sun. His legs buckled under him and with a brief flash of pain he felt the desert sand crushed into his open wounds.
It was getting harder and harder to breath and Quatre simply wanted to rest, he was so tired. Tired of everything, everything except one thing.
"Trowa…"
"Quatre!" Strong arms tried to wrap about him but they pulled against his burned and bleeding skin and Quatre's scream of agony halted further movement. "Quatre, no."
He knew he wouldn't die right away, he'd linger, putting his loved ones in such agony. He didn't want that to happen, didn't want Trowa to suffer anymore than he already was going to. But there was nothing he could do, no way for him to fight what was coming. Now was not the time for hope but the time for action. Desperately he wished he could see Trowa's eyes one more time, eyes he'd loved from the moment he'd seen them.
"Trowa…I lo…ove you…"
This time when Trowa lifted him from the sand, desperately calling his name and begging him not to leave, Quatre didn't feel the pain, he didn't feel anything at all.
* * *
The beeping sound had woken him up, it was annoying. There was another sound too, one that didn't belong on his satellite. It was also bright, too bright, their was no lighting on his satellite either, at least none that could function without the aid from the solar plates, and he shouldn't be in range for them, at least not now.
Slowly, mindful of the bright lights, Quatre opened his eyes. It was too bright. White light halloed everything, making outlines impossible to define. He slammed his eyes shut. He must have slept longer than he'd thought, the satellite must have already rotated to gather the sun's energy. But the lights were too bright, and his vision was bleary, as if he hadn't opened his eyes in a very long time. Resisting the urge to rub his eyes, he lay quietly, absorbing the warmth.
The beeping was still there and Quatre found himself wincing at the only thing that sound could mean. His generator must be malfunctioning. That explained the light and heat. His cell packs would deplete their energy too quickly at this rate and he'd be in the dark for weeks before the satellite's orbit returned to gather more solar energy. He had to get up and fix it, he didn't have a choice, even if he was warm.
Resigning himself to the task, Quatre opened his eyes in time to see a blurry dark object rise from in front of him. He couldn't see it! His eyes wouldn't adjust no matter how hard he blinked. The thing was moving, swinging back and forth.
Panic welled up inside him and Quatre found himself frozen with fear as he tried desperately to clear his vision. One blink, then another--it wasn't working!
Suddenly the dark object stopped moving and Quatre felt the sudden shock from the other person--for person is what the dark spot was.
For a moment neither figure moved, and Quatre found it impossible to breathe, his heart beating so quickly he thought he could hear it reflected in the beeping of the generator's warning.
There were so many emotions, his own fear, the shock from the other person, his own shock at waking up on his satellite not alone. What was this person doing on his--wait! His father! No it couldn't be, it was too soon! And he'd slept though the greeting his father always expected. Allah no! He'd never survive this beating.
He was so confused, his body aching from the sudden tightness of his muscles. He closed his eyes, trying one last time to blink away the confusion. This time it worked.
At the flash of distinct shapes and colors Quatre's world fell into place. He was lying on some kind of bed, and directly across from him was his father, sitting on the opposite bed in…pajamas? But wait. His eyes were the wrong color, green instead of blue, and why did his father look so young, so…vulnerable? And shock? Shouldn't his father be furious with him? And the room, it didn't look anything like his satellite.
"Quatre?"
That voice didn't sound like his father's. Questioning, as if his father didn't know exactly who he was. And then, just as clearly as the room had come into focus, so too did Quatre's mind.
The Maguanacs. He was a Maguanac. His father had brought him to the station in hopes of getting rid of him, and he'd succeeded. Rashid and Abdule. They were his family now, his Teacher and fellow Recruit. He was safe here, his father couldn't get to him anymore. Allah loved him, and he was to become the defender of nations protecting Muslims everywhere. He was Quatre of the Maguanacs. He was safe. Then who the hell was that?!
The voice tried again. "Quatre? Is that your--"
Quatre didn't know who this person was! He didn't recognize him! And the emotions, the turmoil coming off the other were like weights against his mind. Where was Rashid? Where was Abdule? Oh God they'd left him! He was all alone, again! NO! He couldn't be! He couldn't be alone again! He'd rather die than be alone all over again! NO!
With every ounce of strength he possessed Quatre pushed with his whole body to get away from the voice and those emotions. But with dawning horror, Quatre realized his body was like something without structure and it collapsed against the sheets, his struggles and whimpers doing little more than attesting to his weakened state. In vain he tried to slink way, but his muscles wouldn't cooperate and his attempts to move away did little more than dent the mattress he lay on.
In a last and desperate attempt, Quatre pulled his body inwards, his legs-- though uncooperative--pulled up, bringing knees to chest and arms about his head, protecting all of himself that he could. His whimpers were fierce, the shaking of his limbs not even a concern as he waited for the abuse he was sure to suffer.
He sensed confusion but wasn't sure if it was his own or the other occupants. He heard a sigh past his whimpers and the constant beeping that had become nothing but background noise in the wake of his terrifying discovery.
A sudden rustling of fabric alerted him to the figure's movements and Quatre curled in on himself even more, so that his chest barely had room to draw in oxygen. There was a thump and then a soft curse, and Quatre opened his eyes in the darkness of his arms to wonder what that sound could mean.
More rustling fabric and a few more swear words from the other before Quatre heard the scraping of something against false wood. The next thing he knew the mattress indented heavily by his drawn up feet, and the shock of it propelled him to sit up, eyes frantic.
But his muscles wouldn't hold him and as he fearfully noted that the boy-- for that is what he was--was sitting on his bed. His arms gave out from under him and he sank against the pillows, defeat and fear clearly written across his face.
The boy stared at him, his emerald eyes boring into Quatre so that the blond felt trapped in his place, his heart and chest racing against his terror. Those eyes, they were so familiar, and so frighteningly blank. They studied him, assessing him in ways that Quatre couldn't understand. The boy didn't move any further towards him, and so Quatre stayed where he was, tears of fear brimming his eyes but refusing to fall.
Finally, the boy seemed to come to a decision.
With slow and deliberate movements, the boy looked down at a box in his hand before removing the lid with care. Quatre watched with the cold air of the unknown dancing over his senses. He didn't know what was going on, he was alone, he was weak, and he couldn't seem to get away from the confusion that the other boy was giving off in waves.
When the lid was removed, another of Quatre's sense became aware. There was a sweet smell, like sugar and something he could remember from his childhood but couldn't place.
He watched as the boy removed a white sheet from the box, and then the smell overwhelmed him as Quatre saw the darkly colored objects within. Some were round while others looked domed, some square while others had no shape he could define. They were all small though, smaller than a quarter of his palm, and Quatre found he was curious enough to take his eyes away from the stranger's and focus on the box.
He felt the emotions from the other change. Where once there was confusion now was a sense of something close to happiness. Startled by this, Quatre looked away from the box and up toward the boy, weariness in his eyes and fatigue in his face.
They locked eyes for a long moment before the boy slowly extended the box towards him. The voice that spoke was soothing and calm, the tone deep and relaxing.
"Would you like a chocolate, Quatre?"
What?! He didn't even know this boy! He was in a strange place, abandoned by his Teacher and Abdule, struggling just to remain upright, and this boy was offering him something sweet smelling from a red box! This wasn't happening!
Shaking, Quatre pulled away from the proffered box. He struggled, and after a few seconds of trial, managed to draw his knees up against his upright chest. His arms went around his knees, and his head, too heavy for his weakened neck, fell to rest against them. He closed his eyes in the hopes of vanishing.
But the boy didn't seem deterred.
"Would you like a chocolate, Quatre?"
How did this boy know his name? Opening his eyes, Quatre regarded the boy in front of him. He was tall, Quatre could see that right away. There was something familiar about him too, his eyes haunted something in Quatre's mind. But his hair, falling over one eye, it was so much like his father's, and Quatre found himself in a desperate struggle--half of him wanting to trust the boy completely, the other terrified to even look at him.
Softly he shook his head.
But again, as if the boy were on a broken data stream, he repeated himself one more time.
"Would you like a chocolate, Quatre?"
Now, afraid that he'd missed some custom he didn't understand, his eyes took on more fear and his body collapsed into itself even tighter. But, for some unknown reason he spoke, his voice shaky and quiet at best.
"…how do…how do you know my name?"
The boy seemed to think on it a moment, confusion in his eyes again. Then, casually, he shrugged. "We met in the hallway outside the camps, then again in the hanger. Someone said your name was Quatre."
And then it clicked into place. That was how he knew this boy. Trowa, his name was Trowa, and he was the other Recruit. He'd been the one to keep…Duo! Yes Duo, from getting too close to him. He knew Trowa, they'd met before, in the hallway, the hanger, and…somewhere else?
Shaking his head silently at his last thoughts, Quatre shifted; his tight grip about his knees lessening.
"T-Trowa, right?"
The other nodded his head.
"Would you like a chocolate, Quatre?"
The dialogue seemed strange to Quatre; how the boy kept repeating the same question, over and over. Worried he'd somehow insult the boy, Quatre tried his best to cover up his ignorance.
"I-I don't know. I've…never had one before."
He sensed it first, a flash of pain from the boy across from him. It was so foreign, this feeling that others felt pain for what he'd been through. Quatre watched as Trowa nodded his head and slowly drew the box back towards his chest. Nimble and long fingers carefully ran over the undisturbed box of chocolates before selecting one. Trowa brought the dark blob to his mouth before biting into half of it. His eyes closed and he seemed to savor the flavor before opening them again and swallowing the treat.
Quatre stared, stunned and silent at the display before him. Watching Trowa bite into the chocolate and roll the food around in his mouth had caused a strange sensation to course through his body, resulting in a shiver he didn't understand.
But Trowa was looking at him now, the boy's hand and fingers extending the other half of the chocolate towards him. Quatre was startled when he found his body had not flinched away.
"It has a cherry in the center, surrounded by a cherry liquid. It's not poisoned, otherwise I never would have taken half. Try it." And the sweet was then slightly shaken in Quatre's direction.
This was nuts! He wasn't going to share food with the--
He watched his hand as it slowly reached out to take the half-eaten piece of chocolate. What was he doing!? Why was his hand moving without his instructions?! Allah, what was going on?!
As if outside his body, Quatre watched his hand accept the chocolate, mindful to keep skin from touching skin. Then in less time than a thought, the candy was brought to his lips and pushed past them into the waiting cavern of his mouth.
Flavor exploded, and a sugary sweetness invaded his senses so that Quatre had to close his eyes to capture all the different sensations happening in his mouth. The chocolate was creamy, the sweet center of the liquid cherry flowing over his tongue and tickling his molars. The cherry was a sold mass and with delicate movements, Quatre allowed his teeth to mash the fruit into a paste that tasted even sweeter than the whole. He found himself whimpering at the taste, it was like heaven, a taste he'd never had before and desperately wanted to have again.
It was a long minute that Quatre savored the first taste of chocolate he'd had in over ten years. When he finally managed to open his eyes, he found Trowa staring at him, a shocked and dark expression in his eyes. It was gone in a flash, replaced by the blank look that was often there, but his eyes remained the same, the green of his eyes nearly encompassed by the black of his pupils.
And then without question or fan fair, it happened again. Without words, Trowa selected another chocolate and brought it to his mouth. Again he bit into half of it and savored the taste before opening his eyes and slowly handing the confection to Quatre.
"There's caramel in the center. It's a little chewy."
And then Quatre took the candy, his mind now working with his body to accept the gift. Then, just as before, the flavor exploded in his mouth, firing off senses Quatre wasn't even aware he had. This time, when the chocolate was finished, he brought his fingers to his tongue to lick off the last of the sugar.
And again.
"Nuts this time. A walnut I think."
And again.
"Coconut. It's sweet and a little crunchy." A pause. "They're my favorites."
The boy seemed startled that he'd said the last but he'd seemed more startled when Quatre refused to take the treat.
"If it's your favorite…you eat it."
For a moment neither boy moved, and then Trowa shook his head and offered the candy again. "You won't know if they're your favorite unless you try them yourself. Besides, there's another on the bottom tray." Again, another pause. "I-I want you to try it."
A little startled, Quatre took the candy and placed it onto his waiting tongue. It was sweet and as Trowa had said, crunchy. He worked the fibers around his molars, struggling with his fatigue to finish the candy.
"Did you like that one?" It seemed important to Trowa, as if he truly needed to know if Quatre had liked it or not.
He thought for a moment, trying to analyze how he felt about the candy. Finally he nodded. "It was good, sweet. I'm…a little tired…I don't know why. It was hard to chew it so much."
"Was it your favorite?" There was no desperation in Trowa's voice, but his eyes--his soul--seemed to carry it. Quatre was stunned silent by it, afraid to answer the wrong way and upset his new…friend?
Carefully, he shook his head. "I-I think I liked the…nut one better."
"Oh."
And suddenly, Quatre was terrified by the continued blank expression on Trowa's face.
"I-Is that bad?"
Trowa considered this for a moment before shaking his head.
"No, it's good. That means I can have the one on the bottom tray. Besides, you've never liked the coconut ones…" Trowa's voice fell away as he realized what he'd just said, and his eyes flew to meet Quatre's, a thinly veiled panic settling in both of their eyes.
"…I've never had coconut before."
Trowa nodded, his eyes still large and confused, a touch of fear in their dilation. "I don't know why…I said that."
For a long moment they just stared at each other, neither moving as they explored each other's eyes.
The sound of the hydraulic door burst into their moment of discovery however, and the loud exclamation had Quatre sitting back with fear, and Trowa turning around to glare at the interruption.
"HOLY SHIT! QUATRE, YOU'RE AWAKE!" With that, Duo flew into the room and ran up to the bottom edge of Quatre's bed.
Suddenly the fear was back, and as if the last fifteen minutes had never happened, Quatre pulled in on himself, cowering away from the newcomer. His body began to shake again, and his eyes looked fearfully between Duo and Trowa.
Duo seemed to understand a split second later as he pushed away from the bed and took two steps back. "Hey, it's cool Q. Everything's going to be ok."
The door opened again however, and with a sense of relief he didn't think he'd ever be able to explain or understand, tears gathered in his eyes and fell down his cheeks as he saw the powerful image of his Teacher and brother in the doorway.
"Quatre!"
He didn't even know he'd done it until much later. His body uncurled from itself and with his entire body he opened himself up for Rashid's embrace. The giant man was strong, pulling Quatre tightly to him, lifting Quatre's tired body against a chest that was strong and capable. Thick fingers ran through his hair, and Quatre felt the familiar emotions of his Teacher flood his senses, the relief and fear momentarily overpowering him.
"Oh, God Quatre, we were so worried." And there was Abdule, his long fingers running comfortingly across his back. Abdule maneuvered himself so that he too was hugging the fragile blond.
Quatre's fingers gripped at Rashid's shirt, his body trying desperately to crawl into the comfort and love he sensed from his Teacher. Quatre's emotions were turbulent, the emotions of those around him pounded into his senses, filling the void of nothingness with feelings he didn't dare hope were all for him.
The tears of frustration and relief fell from his eyes and he rubbed his face into Rashid's shoulder as the man softly rocked him back and forth, occasionally laying light kisses into his hair.
He didn't recognize the contact as something to be afraid of. He wanted it, wanted to remember what it felt like to be in these arms, to feel warm and protect, to feel wanted. He'd been in a cold dark place before, silent and scary, his dreams haunted by the nightmares of his past. When he'd thought Rashid had abandoned him…well it wasn't true, his Teacher was here, Rashid was here. Quatre just wanted to melt into him and never let go.
His voice came out as a sob when the words finally worked past his lips.
"You--you came. You--came b--back. You--didn't--didn't leave--me."
The arms about him tightened, and he felt Abdule's hold on him tighten as well. "Never, Quatre. I would never leave you. Never."
"Quatre you silly, silly boy! God I was so scared, so scared…" And then Abdule was crying and Quatre found his arms went from being around Rashid to being around Abdule. His brother held him tightly, while Quatre gripped the fellow Arabian about the neck, refusing to let go as Rashid's massive frame enveloped them both.
"Hush now, both of you. Everything will be all right now. Everything will be alright."
Quatre nodded just as Abdule did, the words of their Teacher reinforcing what they already knew.
Safe and warm, loved and comforted, Quatre felt the last of his strength give out as his hands fell from about Abdule's neck. His brother gripped his frame as Quatre sank, his eyes drifting shut as he struggled to remain awake.
"Rad?"
"Quatre, are you alright? Quatre?"
He tried to nod, tried to tell them that he was tired, that the emotions pressing upon him were making him sleepy. They were all warm, all except that one familiar one, the one he somehow knew was from Trowa. It seemed colder somehow, as if…as if not happy about the reunion happening before him, as if he was…jealous.
Not wanting to isolate his new friend, Quatre struggled to turn his head, and looked to where he'd last seen Trowa. But the boy wasn't there, and Quatre felt a well of panic settle around him that brought life to his body as he struggled to pull away from Rashid and sit up.
"Quatre, what is--"
"W-where's--Trowa?" His voice was tired but strong, his need to find the other boy outweighing even his need to reassure his Teacher.
"Here." And with the sound of Trowa's voice, Quatre turned his head to see that the red haired boy had moved back to his own bed, a tall and burly man standing over him protectively, a beefy hand on Trowa's thin shoulder.
Suddenly frightened by the newcomer so close to Trowa, Quatre recoiled against Rashid's chest, holding tightly the arm that settled across his own. He eyed the stranger warily, watching for false movements that could harm his new friend. There was something about this man that Quatre didn't like, something about him that grated on him, made the hairs on the back of his neck want to stand on end. He felt…jealous?!
"Trowa?" His voice was quiet, even to him.
The other boy seemed to pause for a second, not accustomed to being spoken to. Finally he nodded for Quatre to continue.
A quick glance at the man beside Trowa convinced him to ask his question. "What did you…did you want for the…chocolate?"
The question seemed to confuse everyone in the room, he could sense it strongly from his Teacher and the man beside Trowa. But oddly, Duo and the boy Quatre recognized as the doctor, didn't seemed confused at all, and neither did Trowa.
In the other bed, Trowa sat up a little straighter, absently brushing off the hand of the man towering above him--much to Quatre's relief.
"Nothing. It was a…gift, for me and now a gift for you."
Stunned, Quatre searched critically trying to find some kind of hidden meaning or ulterior motive for Trowa's kindness. In the end, he found none, and cautiously relaxed against Rashid, his eyes closing on their own from fatigue.
"Th-thank you, Trowa." A yawn escaped his lips so that he almost didn't hear Trowa's reply.
"Y-you're welcome."
When Rashid called his name a few seconds later, Quatre simply couldn't find the strength to answer. Instead, he let sleep wash over him and take him away.