"Iria, where are you going?" Tom asked his wife from where he sat.
"I need to get back to California."
"Why? What's going on?"
"Quatre's hurt."
"Jesus...what happened?"
"I have no clue. But I've always been by Quatre's side every time he was hurt and I'm not going to stop now." Iria made her way to the bedroom and pulled out a small suitcase. She threw in some clothes.
"I'm going with you." Tom said, pulling out his own suitcase and throwing in some of his own clothes.
"You're what?"
"I'm going with you. I want to be there for Quatre too. He's a great kid and I don't want to see him hurt anymore than you do."
Iria smiled and planted a kiss on her husband. "Thank you."
Tom smiled. "I'll tell Joe to reserve us some seats."
After the two packed, they hurried out the door and told their driver to take them to the airport. They checked in and waited to board their plane. The couple was soon on their way to California.
Iria wrinkled a napkin in her hands with nervousness.
"Iria, honey, what is it?" Tom asked, placing a hand on Iria's.
"I don't know. I can't help but think my dad was the one who hurt Quatre."
"Why would he do that?"
"I think, maybe, Quatre came out to him."
"Came out?"
Iria bit her lip and looked at Tom. "Quatre's gay."
"And why would your father hurt him for that?"
"He's a traditional man. He wants his son to marry a woman and his daughter to marry a man. If something messed up his plans, I assume things wouldn't turn out well..."
Tom kissed Iria's temple. "Listen," he whispered. "If things are what you think they are, Quatre's gonna move in with us. I don't want him in the same house as your father if he's the one that caused this."
"Are you sure about that, Tom?"
"Positive. If he's with us, we'd both know he's safe."
Iria kissed Tom on the lips once more. "Thank you for being so understanding. I love you."
"And I love you."
* * *
"No! No, please! NO!!" Quatre yelled, still asleep.
Trowa bent down by his friend. He had changed Quatre's clothes into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and threw Quatre's clothes in the laundry. He wiped away the sweat forming on the blonde's forehead. "Shhh...it's okay...you're safe here." he whispered into Quatre's ear.
"Dad, please! I'm sorry!!"
Trowa stroked Quatre's cheek, comfortingly. "Shhh...please Quatre. Rest."
Quatre whimpered before relaxing back into a dreamless state.
Mr. Barton was ordering a pizza while Catherine drove to the airport to pick up Iria and Tom. Trowa clasped Quatre's hand in his own and held it up to his cheek.
"Well, it seems Mr. Winner is the one responsible for this. What would set him off to do such a thing to his own son?"
Trowa shut his eyes. "I think Quatre might have come out to his father."
"What do you mean?" Mr. Barton took a seat by his son.
"I think Quatre told his dad that he's gay." Trowa opened his eyes and gazed at Quatre's face.
"Jesus...and he did this to him?"
"I don't know if it's what happened, but it's the most logical thing right now..."
"Hmmm...this was a hard day for Quatre. I don't think he'll be waking up anytime soon. Will you let him sleep in your room?"
"Of course." Trowa stood and bent over to lift Quatre in his arms. "I'm not real hungry right now, dad. I think I'll turn in."
Mr. Barton nodded. Trowa carried Quatre up the stairs and into his room. He laid him down on the bed before stripping down to his boxers.
Quatre stirred. He opened his eyes very slowly. He realized that he was lying down and that his clothes had been changed. A figure in the dark caught his attention.
"Trowa?" Quatre mumbled.
Trowa turned to see Quatre half awake. He walked over to his friend. "Yeah, it's me." He whispered.
"What am I doing in your bed?"
"Well, you were sleeping."
Quatre sat up.
"What're you doing?" Trowa asked.
"This is your bed. I'll sleep on the floor."
"You will not." Trowa said pushing the boy back in the bed.
"But-"
"No buts. My bed's big enough for both of us." Trowa climbed into the bed and laid himself next to Quatre. He looked into Quatre's eyes and gave him a slight smile.
"Are you sure? I'd be fine on the floor."
"I'm sure. Just sleep."
Quatre looked down. "I'm sorry..."
"For what?"
"Making you and your family take care of me..."
"Quatre, we wanted to take care of you. You're my best friend and my dad and sister adore you. It's not like we would have left you standing on the porch."
"My dad would have..." Quatre whispered. He felt tears well up in his eyes.
Trowa snuggled up to the smaller boy and placed an arm around his waist. "Quatre, don't think about it now. Just rest."
Quatre rested his head next to Trowa's bare chest and let a single tear drop. Trowa gently stroked Quatre's hair.
'Things'll be better by morning, I promise...'
The two, finding comfort in each other's arms, slowly drifted in to a dreamless sleep.
* * *
Quatre woke up early the next morning. Trowa's body was draped over his own giving Quatre the warmth and comfort that he needed.
"Thank you, Trowa..." Quatre whispered. He removed slowly pulled himself away from Trowa's hold and sat up in the bed. The clock read 6:30 in the morning. From outside the window, the sun was rising from beyond the hills in the distance. Quatre got out of bed, being careful as to not wake the unibanged boy. He quietly left the room and tiptoed down the stairs, trying not to trip on his way-too-long pants. He noticed in the family room that the couch had been pulled out into a bed where he saw Iria and Tom, asleep.
'What are they doing here?' Quatre thought. He quietly opened the front door and stepped onto the front porch.
"And just where do you think you're going, young man?"
Quatre jumped. He turned to see Mr. Barton sitting in a chair with a coffee mug in his hands.
"Mr. Barton! I'm sorry. I was just- I wanted to watch- I-"
"Quatre, calm down. It's all right. Have a seat."
Quatre obey and sat opposite the older man who took a sip of his coffee.
"I often come out here to watch the sun rise. It's very calming."
Quatre nodded. He pulled his legs up in front of him and wrapped his arms around them. "Thank you, Mr. Barton. For everything."
"You're welcome, Quatre."
The two sat in silence, watching the sun make its way into the sky. The sunrise was very calming, indeed. Moments passed between the men. Each lost in their own thoughts as the sun's rays enveloped their skin.
"Come now. Let's go inside. I'll examine your wounds." Mr. Barton stood and gave Quatre a small smile.
Quatre nodded and followed the man to the living room, making sure to be extra quiet while he passed the family room. He was told to sit on the couch and he obeyed. Mr. Barton kneeled in front of the blonde and looked at the bruise on his cheek.
"Does it still hurt?"
"Just a little, but better than before."
The doctor nodded the looked at Quatre's nose. He gently touched it. "Does this hurt?" He gave it a little pinch.
Quatre shook his head.
"Okay. I don't think it's broken, so that's once less thing to worry about." He then looked at the scratches on Quatre's right side. "What caused these?"
Quatre swallowed. "The porch. From when my father threw me out."
Mr. Barton made a face. "They aren't very deep, but is there anything irritating them? Maybe a splinter?"
Quatre shook his head again.
"Okay. That's good. So you're healing very quickly and soon, these will all be gone." The older man smiled.
Quatre gave a slight smile back. "Thank you, sir."
"No problem." Mr. Barton looked over the boy sitting in front of him. He let his fatherly instincts control him and held Quatre in a deep embrace.
Quatre accepted the action and hugged the man back. He felt so much comfort in these arms than he had ever felt with his own father. Quatre sensed the tears rising again and began to weep upon the man's shoulder. Mr. Barton rubbed Quatre's back, soothingly. Quatre's tears soon died away but he didn't want to lose the comfort Mr. Barton had offered. He clung to the older man wishing that all his pain would disappear, leaving nothing but this comfort.
"Awww. Can you hand me a tissue?"
The two broke their embrace to see Catherine and Iria standing in the doorway. Both girls were brimming with tears and were holding each other's hand. Tom appeared in the doorway, handing Catherine her tissue.
"Now, now. Continue where you were. It was a Kodak moment." Catherine blubbered.
Mr. Barton shook his head and Quatre smiled. The three walked over to where the other two were and took seats.
"How you feeling?" Iria asked placing a hand on the side of Quatre's head.
"Better. What're you guys doing here?"
"We came when Trowa told me you were hurt."
"We took the first flight here, to get to you." Tom added.
"What happened, Quatre?" Catherine inquired.
"Cathy! Quatre will speak when he feels that it's right." Mr. Barton scolded.
"No, it's all right. I don't mind telling you."
"Are you sure?" Mr. Barton asked.
"Yes." Quatre sighed.
Trowa woke up to an empty bed. Curious as to where his friend went, Trowa pulled a shirt over his head and made his way downstairs. Everyone was sitting around Quatre who was about to tell his story. Trowa took a seat on the stairs and watched quietly.
"Yesterday, Dad decided to take a break from work, I guess. He was sitting on the couch, watching the news while I was doing the dishes. There was a segment about a gay guy that was shot and dad thought it was 'despicable' that people were making such a big deal about it. I-" Quatre hesitated. "I argued with him, telling him that being gay was just a different type of love between two people. He called it a sin and said that all homosexuals should be sent to hell." He stopped and looked at his hands in his lap. "That's when I told him that I was gay." Quatre fought back the tears that dared to surface. "He got angry and told me that I better be joking. I told him that I wasn't. He got real mad. He grabbed my shirt and..." Quatre choked out the rest. "...hi-hit me. He was too strong. I couldn't protect myself. He said that he doesn't want anything to do with me..." Quatre clenched his fists and shut his eyes. Iria placed an arm around him and rubbed his back. "He threw me out so I came here...I-I-"
"Shhh...it's okay. That's enough. You don't have to say anymore." Mr. Barton comforted. He placed a hand on Quatre's shoulder."Quatre's not yet 18. This is an offense of child abuse."
"Wait no! Don't." Quatre said.
"But Quatre, he hurt you..." Catherine reasoned.
"I know. It's just...I just wanna get over this. No more...please..."
The adults looked to each other and Mr. Barton nodded. "Okay...no more."
"Quatre," Tom said, kneeling in front of the boy. "I don't want you to go back there. Iria and I have decided that you're going to move in with us."
"What!?" Trowa shouted from the stairs. He jumped up from his sitting position and made his way to the living room where everyone was staring at him. "He can't! No!"
"Trowa, he can't stay with his father." Catherine told him.
"But, he can't just leave."
"Son, this is for Quatre's well-being. It's not safe for him to stay with Mr. Winner."
"But...No!" Trowa shook his head. "It's the middle of the school year." He pulled out the first excuse that came to him. "And it's during his senior year."
"We know, but where would he stay?" Iria said calmly.
"He could stay...here! With us! I mean, Cathy, you're gonna go back to your apartment with Mark, right?" Catherine nodded, a small smile forming on her lips from seeing her brother's efforts in keeping his friend with him. "And-and Dad, I wouldn't be here alone when you're at work, anymore." Trowa added turning to his father. "Can Quatre stay?"
"Wait, wait." Quatre interrupted. "I can't stay here. You've all done so much for me, already. I don't want to intrude..."
"You won't. Right dad?"
"Well, I honestly don't mind you staying here, Quatre. I'd really miss you and your music if you left. You have my permission to stay here if you want."
"I..."
Trowa hurried to his friend. He took Quatre's hands and looked him in the eye. "Please, Quatre? I don't want you to leave..." Trowa pleaded.
"If you're sure it won't be too much trouble..."
Trowa's face lit. "No trouble at all! Right?" he said turning to his father once again.
"None what-so-ever. Just as long as you keep to your studies."
"All right!" Trowa hugged Quatre. "You're gonna stay!"
"Mr. Barton, I'll pay for all of Quatre's expenses." Iria said.
"Don't worry about that, Iria."
"Nonsense." Tom interrupted. "You're already letting Quatre stay with you. The least we could do is pay for his expenses."
"I think I need another tissue..." Catherine blubbered behind her tears.
Author's Notes/Disclaimer: No own. No money. No sue. Thank you Barton family. Due to the changes made in Chapter 13, I had to change this chapter up a bit as well. Obviously.
To a certain reviewer who I'd like to make somethings clear with. I know that the last chapter seemed out of the blue and that BAM! Quatre's father's home. I didn't know how else to get Quatre to tell his father. And the hateful personality, well...it's not really hateful. Just traditional. He is an irritable man and you catch a glimpse of that when Trowa goes to the Winner residence and Mr. Winner opens the door and also when he orders his children to say out of the way in the first chapter. And as for the Christmas teaser, I know that Trowa seemed to be somewhat crazy at the time and that everyone's wondering what the hell was going through his head and that's exactly what I was aiming for. It makes Trowa a bit more unpredictible and maybe just a little mysterious. And finally, when Quatre and Duo come out, they aren't ten. They're actually thirteen-fourteen. Quatre and Trowa were just becoming friends at age ten. I hope this clears some things up or at least shows you my perspective. Thank you for your review and yeah.