Chapter 12
The next day I was checked out, walking on my own two feet because I'd nearly thrown an epileptic fit when they tried to convince me to sit in a freakin' wheelchair. I didn't even bruise my legs; there was no way I was gonna be rolled out of the hospital like a damn invalid. My ribs were fine, thanks to our astonishing…metabolism or whatever the hell you call it. I just had to avoid bending and any strenuous behavior for a week and I'd be good as new.
I sort of got the feeling that the doctor thought Heero and I were…um, more than best friends when he leveled a stern look at each of us while stressing the word, "strenuous."
Probably the fault of a gossiping nurse.
In fact, I think the whole floor knew of our 'relationship' because they never tried to push Heero out during anything, let him stay way past visiting hours, and I'm pretty sure I saw somebody peeking in on us a few times at night.
Most of them seemed to findit allincredibly…sweet and I wondered if Heero was as uncomfortable as I was. If he felt awkward at all, though, he didn't show it. Of course, I've never actually seen the guy awkward before, so that might be a moot point.
I was advised to be very careful with my hands, keeping them wrapped as much as possible, changing them everyday, and applying as little pressure as possible to the palms until they had healed up nicely. An infection at this point could still have fatal consequences.
Well, no heavy-lifting for a while, I see. And no missions either, for at least another two weeks. I kind of waffled between a guilty relief, because the other guys would have to fill in for me, and a guilty disappointment.
As for my pneumonia treatment, it was finally, finally done. The damn thing actually hurt more than the actual pneumonia, and the others had to practically strap me down to the bed to take it.
Incidentally, I really despised the freakin' pneumonia treatment. In case you couldn't tell.
Yeah, so I had to stay warm, too, because we didn't want a relapse, did we?
Also, I'm supposed to eat lots of healthy foods regularly. Did I mention I'd somehow managed to lose twelve and half pounds on that mission of crap?
All in all, I was pretty damn grumpy by the time I was ushered out, the other guys bristling around me, so high-strung from all those damn warnings I thought they'd pull a gun on a butterfly if it tried to flutter onto my hair, and sending glares all around that made little kids pee in their pants.
I was just wondering if we shouldn't just stick me in a freakin' incubator, and be done with it.
And hell if one of the nurses didn't actually tell Heero in front of everybody else to, "Be good to your boyfriend." The other guys threw us some startled, speculative looks that lasted about ten seconds before being replaced by something else.
You know, I really hate those smug, I-told-you-so looks.
Yep, I was one unhappy camper.
I wasn't even happy to be leaving the hospital. If anything, the guys were going to be stricter about following all those stupid instructions than the doctors themselves.
I scowled indiscriminately at all of them as we piled into the car; Trowa driving. He was the only one old enough to actually legally drive. The rest of us were all fifteen, and he was sixteen. Well…I was pretty sure I was fifteen anyway. Orphaned street kids don't normally have birth certificates or anything.
I suppose I was glad that the guys didn't decide to be blithering idiots and ask me if I was warm enough or any of that crap, because otherwise, that wellspring of frustration and anger would've boiled over and scalded them. Badly.
And you know, even if I was this aggravated mass of annoyance, I don't think I wanted to erupt at them anymore than they did, so I huddled into Heero's waiting arms and shut the whole world out. For a while.
Okay…this was worse than I had imagined.
The moment I stepped out of the car, Heero had his arm around my waist - I presumeto keep me from the almost nonexistent possibility of falling over. Quatre was at the stove in a flash, and I just knew he was preparing something disgustingly full of vitamins and protein. Trowa rummaged around for warm clothes, and everyone had to donate a sweater or something equally toasty. Then Wufei, at Heero's suggestion, insisted on carrying my freakin' clothes to the bathroom when I wanted to shower! Oh yeah, and I was also told, firmly, that bathing would be better for my back.
That was just a little too much for me, and I slammed the door on him, on all of them, with a satisfyingly loud wham.
I think that warned them suitably enough that I was on the edge of just throwing myself off a cliff…again, because nobody tried to walk in and ask me if I needed them to…I dunno, hand bathe me or something.
I managed to get my clothes off without much trouble, and was running the water into the bathtub (see, I do listen, sometimes) when I realized something.
Okay, putting my hands in hot water is probably not the best thing to do…
Uhhh…
There was a knock at the door, and Quatre walked in, blushing furiously.
"Quatre!" I squawked, my own blush rapidly overtaking my face. Other Duo snickered at my predicament, and I forcefully nudged him away.
"Uh, Heero said you might need, um, some help because of your…hands," Quatre squeaked, looking everywhere but at me.
I said the first thing that came to my mind. "Well, why didn't he come then?"
"I think he thought you'd be more comfortable with, uh, your little brother…doing it." He sounded a little bit hurt, and I remembered what I said with a cringe.
"Yeah," I said hastily, "he's probably right. After all," I added, on a burst of inspiration, "there's nobody like a little brother when you need somebody to scrub your back." I repressed a sigh. Looks like someone did come in and offer to wash me after all.
Well, I guess it beat the hell out of the alternative.
I lowered myself into the bathtub carefully, my hands held out to the sides, making sure I didn't slosh the water.
I'd already unbraided my hair – exceedingly delicately; I wondered how the hell I was going to braid it with my hands so stiff (nobody had let me even clench my fists for the longest time) and tried not to groan.
Then Quatre was massaging my scalp, and I almost dissolved into a puddle of incoherent pleasure. This felt so good after those stupid sponge baths.
Yes, I'd let a nurse sponge bathe me. I hated every moment and wanted to sink into the floor, but the embarrassment was almost worth not feeling dirty and filthy and grimy to the bone.
I'll spare you the details of the whole bath, and let's just say that just because it was Quatre, my little brother, did not make it any better. Actually, it' might've been worse than the impersonal touches of the nurse, in a way.
It was…just too revealing.
But I imagined Heero doing it, and decided that Quatre was definitely the better choice. Just picturing Heero's hands all over my body gave me the most frightening feeling, this feeling that wanted to tremble my stomach out of my body, and make my heart try to beat itself from my chest.
That feeling threatening to run…lower, but I wrenched my mind onto other subjects, and it subsided.
"Quatre?" I asked absent-mindedly, thinking of anything but Heero, "What's for dinner?"
Quatre froze. Then he bolted upright, gasping, "Dinner!" and was out the door.
Okaay…
Good thing he had just finished, I suppose.
I pulled myself out of the water clumsily, and dried myself lightly. I slipped on the clothes Wufei had brought, staring at my tangled, dripping mass of hair in dismay.
I drained the bathtub, wandered out the door…and was instantly set upon by a pack of raving Gundam pilots.
Wufei had new bandages in his hands, and Trowa was trying to get me to wear a sweater. A really thick one. In eighty degree weather. Needless to say, I declined. Pretty civilly too, I might add. Quatre held a plate of steamy vegetables and some kind of white fish. Heero was the least aggressive, for once, and just asked if I needed help drying my hair.
I accepted gratefully, told Quatre I'd have dinner as soon as Heero finished, Wufei that we'd change the bandages after we were done eating, and thanked Trowa for his attempt to fry me. Not in those words, though.
Heero and I headed to our room as soon as the rest of the crowd had dispersed, and I sat on the bed while Heero squeezed the water out of my hair behind me.
Before I knew it, he was done, and had a comb in my face, offering to brush it.
I could've hugged him, and did.
He seemed to approach my hair tentatively with the comb, as if he were afraid the slightest tug would splinter it, and I actually had to admonish him to go a little faster, otherwise he'd spend hours on each knot.
After a while, he seemed to get it, and I relaxed into his chest, closing my eyes, and just feeling him thread the teeth of the comb through my wild hair.
We were both quiet, though I couldn't have told you what Heero was thinking.
Heero's soft, "I'm done," seemed almost reluctant, and I felt kind of sorry that we were done too.
I ran my fingers through my hair, and grinned with delight. I finally felt human again.
Turning to face Heero, I gave him a sweet smile.
Now that kind of surprised me. I don't usually smile sweetly; that's more Quatre's forte.
But, I guess it didn't look too strange, because Heero's face softened minutely. Then something so hot and protective that it appeared almost possessive flared in his eyes, and he suddenly, fiercely, yanked my by my shoulders to plop against him.
I fell back with a surprised, "Oomph!" and squirmed for a moment, trying to see his face, before sighing and giving it up.
Heero could probably jerk a rampaging bear to a standstill with those arms.
Heero was warm…almost uncomfortably so, and I felt that strange, tingly feeling start up again.
I recognized it with a sense of shock, from the one time I'd chanced upon a porn movie by accident.
Dammit, I was not going to find just lying against my best friend arousing!
I'll be the first to admit that I think Heero is beautiful beyond belief, and absolutely breathtaking when he smiles. But…I don't know.
There're just too many uncertain factors in this kind of thing…I mean, he's my best friend! Other Duo looked at me almost disbelievingly. Okay, that doesn't really mean anything, but number one, I have no freakin' idea if he's gay, I'm probably just his best friend…and did I mention this whole thing just makes my head hurt?
I struggled furiously to banish any kind of those thoughts, because I really didn't want to… let the cat out of the bag, I guess, and chance making Heero scram like mad from the freak who used to be his best friend.
And I really wouldn't deal well with Heero disappearing right now. Really.
It worked…after some time. Other Duo wasn't helping, with the naughty images he was sending my way.
"Duo?" Heero asked, his voice right next to my ear, which made me jump. "Will you be able to braid your hair yourself?"
"Oh, right," I said, happy to grab on any new subject and run with it, "no, I don't think so." Here, I held up my bandaged hands for proof – not that he needed any, and asked shyly, "Could you…"
"Yes," he said so quietly I could barely hear him, "Yes I could."
"Oh Heero," I teased, "what have I ever done to deserve you?" On impulse, I flicked the end of his nose with my finger.
He wrinkled his nose, and said in a dubious tone of voice, "Frankly, I don't know that you deserve me at all."
I laughed, hoping that he was joking, and told him that Quatre was probably worrying his dear little heart out, and would continue to do so until we stepped out of the room.
I doubted that they'd try to walk in on us, since they were probably convinced that we should have some 'quality time' alone together.
Gods. That 'boyfriend' quip the nurse back at the hospital had made was really coming back to haunt us.
Oh well. If it made them happy, and they didn't go overboard, they could go on having their happy little delusions as long as they wanted.
If that's the way you want to think, Other Duo said with a strange, sad little grin.
I wondered what he was talking about.
We went out, I dutifully ate my meal at Quatre's behest, and even stuffed on a jacket. Anything to keep them from nagging.
I was watching Quatre and Trowa dance around each other with great amusement, and on the point of yelling at them to kiss, when Wufei got a hold of me, plunking me down on a chair to change my bandages.
Dexterously, he peeled the gauze off my hands, and just as deftly, rewrapped them.
"Damn, 'Fei," I said admiringly, "How the hell you'd get so good at this?"
"I practiced," he said shortly.
"You practiced?" I repeated. Did he mean he'd actually spent time making sure he wouldn't wrap too tightly or loosely or anything? From the way he refused to meet my eyes, it was quite possible. And, knowing Wufei, he had probably done it over and over again to ensure perfection.
Well, what could a guy do after that kind of declaration? Other Duo popped up, looking as flabbergasted as I felt.
So I jumped him with a big hug, and strangely felt like crying.
Separating from him, I rubbed my eyes roughly, and smiled sappily at him.
God, what was it with me today? First sweet smiles, then sappy ones. That was so totally not me.
I guess the guys just kind of had me on an emotional roller coaster with their heartbreakingly touching acts.
I couldn't stop a giant yawn from escaping, and Wufei had me out of that chair and into Heero's arms before it'd even finished.
Before I could let him go though, I hooked an arm around his neck, and dragged him in, whispering, "Thanks, Wufei."
Gently, he disengaged himself, and said, "It was nothing, Maxwell. Now go to sleep."
He gave us a push, and I let Heero half carry me to our bedroom.
"Could I braid it…tomorrow morning?" Heero asked, as if afraid I would refuse.
"Uh…if you want to. Why?"
"Uh, no reason, really. You seem rather tired," Heero said, sounding a bit disjointed.
"Oh, okay." I guess that kind of made sense. I probably looked ready to keel right over.
I went to sleep on my back, better for my ribs, they said, with Heero watching over me to keep the dreams at bay.
The next morning, I woke to find myself somehow entangled with Heero, and my hair all over him, like some weird blanket.
I just stared at him for a while. It was rare that I got to see him asleep when I could see his features clearly; he was usually awake before I was. He was beautiful in his sleep too, which was kind of unfair, since totally relaxed muscles usually make you look a little funny.
That was a purely objective opinion, I assured myself hurriedly, and Other Duo snorted.
Ignoring my annoying mental self, or whatever he was, I tapped Heero on the nose to wake him up.
He was alert in an instant; one of those soldier peculiarities.
"Um…braid my hair?" I suggested.
"All right." He sat up, letting my hair pool on his legs, and reached over the side of the bed to produce a comb and hair tie.
He combed my hair as gently as you would a little kid's, and I felt terribly pampered.
He braided my hair a lot slower than I usually would, but, you know, I didn't really mind.
He was a lot…kinder, and I could tell he was sincerely enjoying braiding my hair. How? I don't know…prolonged exposure to little Quatre, perhaps, who has the freakiest sixth sense in being able to tell what people are thinking.
We're not sure if it's just that he can read people easily, or something more, but we've learned to trust what he says, even Heero.
Wonder why we don't push him to tell us?
We all have our deep, dark secrets, and most of them we prefer to let lie.
If Quatre wants to tell us, we'll listen, like everyone else did when I spoke of Shinigami. Otherwise…it's his choice.
By the time I finished that train of thought, Heero was done, and my braid looked absolutely perfect.
"Wow, Heero," I exclaimed, "that's great!"
I ruffled his mop of hair, and said, grinning, "Now, if you could get your hair under control like mine…"
Suddenly, I pictured Heero with a braid to his butt, and giggled.
"What?" He sounded adorably peeved.
"Oh, it's nothing," I said, and looked at him appraisingly.
Again, the picture of grim little Heero with hair long as mine presented itself, and laughter threatened to burst out again.
"Duo…"
"Oh," I said airily, "I was just imagining you with a braid, that's all."
He just looked at me and I wasn't sure what he was thinking.
"I'm afraid," he said solemnly, "that that look would not suit me at all."
We exited the room, arms around each other's waists, smiling at each other for no reason at all, just glad that our normal, friendly banter – that had been missing since we'd been separated, had finally been restored.
