Choices of the Heart - Part 13 by Keara
Standard disclaimers apply
Heero was asleep in his bed. The guests they had over
that night had departed hours ago. Wufei, Meiran, and Duo had left
shortly after Quatre had gone to bed. Mr. Winner had returned from
work a few hours after that, looking in on his slumbering son once
before he retired to his own room for the evening. Iria and Heero
had followed the rest of their family’s example and went to
sleep as well. And Rasid was in the guest room next door to Heero’s
room, having decided to stay around if only to find out the routines
that Quatre followed every day.
However, even though Heero was asleep, he wasn’t resting at
all peacefully. He was tossing and turning, his mind plagued by horrible
visions as he fitfully slept. The blankets were coiled around him,
clinging to his sweat-slickened skin, while he ineffectually clawed
at them and the bed below him.
In his nightmares, he relived his worst memory . . . for the first
time since it had happened he was actually remembering the events
clearly. There was his mother . . . his beautiful mother, Setzu Yuy.
Heero was barely six years old, smiling happily as he held his mother’s
hand. It was getting dark and they were returning to the car after
a pleasant day in the park. Then he watched as those boys, as those
teenage boys stepped out from behind the trees, their breath foul
with liquor as they taunted and laughed.
One of them had a gun, grabbing Heero away from his mother and holding
the barrel to his head, ordering his mother to strip. Setzu Yuy’s
lip was trembling, tears silently falling from her eyes, but she complied
with them to save Heero . . . it was all for Heero. Heero could hear
himself screaming for her, his own eyes blurred by the torrent of
tears that streamed from his eyes. But those boys ignored him, each
taking a turn at raping his mother in front of him, smacking him if
he attempted to look away from the horrendous things they forced her
to do.
The next thing Heero knew he was opening his eyes and gazing up at
Rasid’s worried face. The larger man’s hands were clamped
around his arms, holding him down to the bed. Heero blinked, fear
washing through him, momentarily unable to distinguish between reality
and the terrible nightmare of his past. Rasid only held his arms,
soothing words falling from his lips to try and calm Heero. Even as
Heero kicked, and tried to squirm away, Rasid held him down, his grip
not strong enough to hurt, but just forceful enough to keep him down.
With a whimper, Heero gave up his struggles, laying there quietly
as a single tear dripped from his eye. Rasid let go of him then, and
Heero rolled over onto his side, turning away from Rasid and curling
up, his body shaking as he wept. He hadn’t had nightmares of
his mother’s attack in years. But now all of a sudden they had
started again, all because he had failed to protect Quatre yesterday
at school.
A firm, yet gentle hand stroked along Heero’s back, a whispering
voice quietly urging him to calm down. After a moment, Heero turned,
looking up at Rasid and feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude
about the huge man’s presence in his bedroom this night.
Rasid said nothing. Instead, he reached out and carefully unwound
the blankets and sheets from Heero’s body. Then he gently pulled
Heero into his arms, cradling the still shaking youth as one would
a frightened child. Heero, although he usually gave off a gruff exterior,
sank into the embrace . . . he was too tired to put up his walls of
disinterest, too weary to care what Rasid would think of him in this
moment of weakness. He just let himself be cradled in the older man’s
strong arms, feeling secure in the comforting embrace.
After a few moments, Heero found the courage to speak his mind, his
brow furrowing lightly as he asked the questions that were plaguing
him. “Have you ever let someone down when they needed you, Rasid?
Have you ever had to sit by and watch someone you care about suffer
and know that it’s your own fault that they’re hurting?”
Rasid sighed, his hands pushing Heero away from him lightly. “Yes,
I am afraid that I have.” The older man replied sadly. “My
son was attacked a few years ago, much like Quatre was. I was late
picking him up from school and he was beaten and raped. He was not
as fortunate as Quatre I am afraid . . . he died a short time later
having never regained consciousness after the attack.”
Heero gasped, paling as he heard that. He hadn’t meant to bring
up such memories in Rasid . . . hadn’t known that Rasid’s
own son had suffered a horrible death. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t
have asked that.” He said, bowing his head and biting into his
bottom lip.
“No, do not berate yourself for asking questions. My son’s
death was the reason I quit the police force and became a bodyguard.
I help to protect those who were involved in crimes similar to the
ones that ended my son’s life. I find great pleasure in knowing
that I can offer protection to someone so kind as your brother.”
Rasid replied, tilting Heero’s face up with one finger and smiling
at him gently. “My son continues to live on in my heart. And
I still have my other children to live for and love.”
“That’s good.” Heero replied, nodding slightly.
“Do you wish to talk of your nightmare?” Rasid asked,
brushing back Heero’s sweat-dampened hair with one of his large
hands.
Heero frowned and sighed. “Not really.” He replied, pulling
his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them as he shivered
slightly. “I dreamed of my mother . . . remembering the day
when she was gang raped in front of me.” He said very quietly,
his voice barely able to be heard.
Rasid’s hand settled on one of Heero’s bare shoulders,
silently offering comfort. “I am sorry that you had to go through
something so horrible. No one should suffer through anything even
remotely similar.” The older man said.
Heero smiled slightly, then raised his gaze. He opened his mouth,
curious about something. “Did I wake you up? Was I that loud?”
He asked.
Rasid offered a kind smile and nodded. “You did call out quite
loudly in your sleep. However, I was not sleeping. I was reading in
my room when I heard you. I felt I had to investigate.”
“Thank you.” Heero said, yawning widely.
“It was no problem, young sir.” Rasid said, once again
weaving his fingers through Heero’s hair with a great deal of
gentleness that you wouldn’t normally expect from someone so
large. “You seem to be tired. Why don’t you go back to
sleep? If you would like, I will remain here until you fall asleep.”
Heero nodded, grateful for the kind offer. “Yes, thank you.
I’d appreciate that.” Heero said.
Rasid smirked, helping Heero to lie down, covering him lightly with
the blankets. He sat on the edge of Heero’s bed, every now and
then stroking his hand through Heero’s hair. Heero fell asleep,
finding the gentle touches oddly soothing. Rasid remained where he
was, staying true to his word and keeping Heero company until a peaceful
slumber finally overtook him.
*****
Duo was jolted awake in the middle of the night by someone shoving
him. He blinked open weary eyes, worry quickly spreading through him
as he saw Catherine’s panic-stricken face hovering over him.
Tears were falling from her eyes as she pushed and shoved against
Duo’s body, pleading with him to wake up.
“What is it Catherine?” Duo asked, sitting up and grabbing
her arms.
“It’s Trowa!” She nearly shouted, clutching at
his biceps. “He came to my room . . . woke me up. Duo, he says
he’s having trouble breathing. He wants to go to the hospital.”
Duo jumped out of bed, not caring that Catherine would see him wearing
nothing but his boxers. It just didn’t seem all that important
whether he was dressed in anything or not. “Where is he now?”
Duo asked, quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
“He’s in my room. I’ll get the car, you get Trowa
dressed.” Catherine said, then rushed out of the room.
Duo nodded, more to himself than to Catherine. Obviously, it wasn’t
a dire situation, since Catherine hadn’t called an ambulance
. . . but Catherine deemed it worthy of a trip to the emergency room.
Trowa must be in bad shape just to get her to do that. And for Trowa
to actually want to go to a hospital . . . that was a bad thing all
by itself.
Once he was dressed, not really caring what state his hair was in
at the moment, Duo rushed into Trowa’s room. He grabbed some
clothes for his friend, shoes as well, then went to Catherine’s
room. Duo frowned deeply as he saw Trowa. The tall young man was sitting
on Catherine’s bed, his face locked in a grimace of pain. He
was clutching a hand over his chest, his breath coming to him in short
gasps as he sat there.
“Come on, let’s get you dressed, Trowa.” Duo said,
quickly and gently helping Trowa into the sweat pants and T-shirt
he had gotten. Lastly, he slipped a pair of canvas shoes on Trowa’s
feet, not bothering with socks, then wound a hand around Trowa’s
waist and helped him to rise to his feet.
“It hurts, Duo.” Trowa gasped and whimpered, leaning
heavily against Duo’s body.
“I know . . . we’re taking you to the hospital. Don’t
you worry, buddy. You’ll be fine.” Duo babbled, not sure
if even he really believed his own words himself.
Trowa remained silent after that, whimpering every now and then,
but not speaking again. Duo got his friend into the car, sitting with
him in the backseat and making sure to keep him comfortable, doing
everything he could to ensure that his friend was going to be okay.
Inside he was panicking though, fearful of losing his best friend
tonight.
*A couple hours later*
Duo stood over Trowa’s hospital bed, biting his fingernails
as he looked down on the sleeping face of his ill friend. This had
been a close call, much too close in Duo’s honest opinion. Now
Trowa was sleeping, peacefully, but still hooked up to various monitors,
an oxygen tube in his nose and IV’s in either of his arms.
Catherine was outside of the room, talking with a doctor about Trowa’s
condition. The doctor was prescribing Trowa new doses for his medications,
telling her that his condition is only going to continue failing unless
he gets an operation. Unfortunately, it was an operation that they
just couldn’t afford right now. They had heard this so many
times before . . . Duo knew the routine by heart already.
Slowly, Trowa’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked as he looked
around, his eyes eventually settling on Duo’s concerned face.
“Guess I was right to want to come here, huh?” Trowa asked,
his voice a feeble whisper.
Duo smiled, even if it was fake, and took hold one of Trowa’s
hands. “They’re altering your doses again, Trowa.”
“Of course they are . . . what else can they do?” Trowa
sneered, closing his eyes as he sighed deeply. “I’m dying,
Duo . . . and they won’t do a damn thing about it because I
can’t afford to pay for this stupid operation . . . because
I don’t have medical insurance.” He said, tears prickling
in the corners of his eyes.
Duo frowned, tightening his hold on Trowa’s hand. “Calm
down, Trowa . . . don’t excite yourself. It’s not good
for you.” Duo said, laying his free hand on Trowa’s shoulder.
“You are not going to die. How many times do I have to tell
you that I won’t allow that to happen? I’ll get that money
for you somehow.”
Trowa smiled weakly. “So, how long are they willing to keep
me this time?” He asked, changing the subject.
“This doctor seems generous, he actually wants to monitor your
condition for a while.” Duo said, smiling in return. “He
didn’t specify a number of hours or days, but he actually seems
willing to help you.”
Trowa let out a quiet chuckle. “That’s new. They usually
can’t wait to get rid of me. He must be new or something.”
As much as Duo hated to admit it, he knew that his friend was right.
The doctors at this hospital tended to rush through Trowa’s
case, getting him back home as quickly as they could. Charity only
took a person so far . . . and this hospital wasn’t all that
charitable to begin with. It had strict policies about people like
Trowa . . . people that couldn’t pay. It was difficult enough
for Catherine to afford Trowa’s various medications.
Duo brushed an errant strand of Trowa’s hair to the side, along
with the rest of his bangs. “Why don’t you get some rest,
Trowa?” Duo suggested. “I think you could use some sleep
right about now.”
Trowa nodded, not even attempting to put up an argument as he closed
his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep. That worried Duo. Trowa
usually fought sleeping in a hospital room . . . he was afraid of
never waking up again. Duo knew that Trowa must be exhausted to quietly
obey him like he had. Duo sighed again, his hand set atop Trowa’s
head, his thumb idly brushing across Trowa’s forehead, once
again hoping that Trowa would live to see another day.
*******
TBC
*******
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