Young Hearts - Part 15 by Keara
Standard disclaimers apply
Trowa snapped awake. Looking around the room, he noticed
that it was dark . . . nowhere near sunrise. He wondered what had
caused him to awaken this late at night, however saw nothing out of
the ordinary. He raised himself to a sitting position then stilled
himself, straining his ears to listen for any sounds. If there was
something wrong he would be sure to hear it now that he was wide awake.
A shrill cry pierced the silent atmosphere . . . something was wrong
with Triton. Trowa threw the blanket away from himself, jumping to
his feet quickly. Catherine burst out of her room, flicking on the
light and momentarily blinding Trowa.
“Was that Triton?” Catherine asked, fear lingering in
her eyes.
“Let’s find out.” Trowa replied, hastily making
his way over to the room where Triton was sleeping, while Catherine
followed at his heels.
Trowa pushed the door open, turning on the lights as he entered the
room. Catherine was only seconds behind him. The sight before them,
left Trowa shocked. Triton was sitting up in bed, crying and shaking,
rubbing his eyes with his small hands. The child’s bear was
lying on the floor, and a recognizable and unpleasant odor wafted
through the air, making Trowa curl his nose.
Catherine rushed past Trowa, kneeling down in front of the bed. She
raised her hand, probably to brush aside Triton’s bangs . .
. however, the child took the movement as a threatening gesture and
recoiled away, covering his face with his arms as he turned on his
side to avoid a physical assault.
Catherine clucked her tongue in a loving tone, gently laying her
hands on Triton’s back. “Oh, I won’t hurt you.”
She whispered. “Wetting the bed is nothing to be ashamed of.
You must have had quite a nightmare.” She gently urged Triton
to look at her. “Now, why don’t we get you cleaned up
so we can all go back to sleep . . . okay?”
Triton nodded, looking at her with an expression of pure disbelief
on his young face. He obviously hadn’t expected kindness in
light of what he had done. It was probably difficult for him to understand
kindness in such an instance.
Trowa stepped forward, laying a hand on Catherine’s shoulder.
“I’ll take care of him . . . you change the bedding, okay?”
Catherine nodded, smiling. “I’ll make him some warm milk
too . . . with some honey to sweeten it. It’ll help him sleep.”
She grasped Trowa’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze before rising
to her feet and striding out of the bedroom.
Trowa watched her leave for a moment before giving Triton his undivided
attention. He took a seat on the edge of the bed where it was dry,
his gaze soft as he looked down at his trembling clone. “Your
nightmares, it was of the mercenaries?” Trowa asked, remembering
his own nightmares of the past.
Triton nodded, wiping his small fists over his eyes again, sniffling.
Trowa slowly reached out, bushing aside the sweat-soaked bangs. He
had knowledge that would help his younger self. So now was a good
time to inform him. Perhaps it would help with his nightmares to know
the truth.
“They’re all dead now, you know.” Trowa said, offering
what he hoped was a comforting smile to the child. “All of the
mercenaries . . . every last one of the ones that hurt you . . . they
died years ago.”
Triton looked up, a silent question burning in his emerald eyes.
“On a mission . . . we were ambushed, betrayed . . . they all
died, except for me.” Trowa said, smirking. “They can
never hurt you again.”
The smile on Triton’s face was small, but it was there. Trowa
knew that the boy wasn’t going to mourn the loss of those he
had been raised by . . . Trowa hadn’t mourned them himself.
Triton looked down at himself, then back up at Trowa with an embarrassed
and frightened expression on his young face.
Trowa understood him perfectly though, even if the child didn’t
speak his mind. Still, he wanted to be sure of what the child wanted,
just in case he was mistaken. “You want to get cleaned up now?”
Trowa asked.
Triton nodded in affirmation. Trowa knew that the boy would not speak.
Not only was it forbidden by the mercenaries that had raised him,
but his silence was also a way of protecting himself. If no one heard
him, then they might not see him, a tactic of being less noticeable
to people that could hurt him. The boy would eventually speak if given
time to heal his emotional wounds, Trowa knew that.
“I’ll give you a choice. If you want to be left alone,
put your hands behind your back. I’ll just get a bath ready
for you and leave you to clean yourself. However, if you want my help
. . .” He held out his hand. “Then take hold of my hand.”
Quietly, his body shivering, Triton reached out and hesitantly took
hold of Trowa’s hand, his eyes holding a look that bordered
on pure terror. Gently, Trowa helped Triton out of bed, letting him
walk on his own as he led the boy into the bathroom.
Trowa closed the door behind the two of them, not missing the fact
that Triton was frightened of being alone in a room with him. Still,
it couldn’t be helped. Trowa smiled once in Triton’s direction,
releasing his hold on the boy’s hand as he stepped over to the
bathtub. Silently, he drew a warm bath for the child, making sure
the water was warm without being scalding. He grabbed a fluffy soft
towel along with a couple washcloths, setting up everything nearby.
Trowa turned off the water when he felt it was at a suitable level.
When he turned, Trowa found that Triton was standing near the door,
still dressed. The boy was looking warily at Trowa, biting his lip
while his arms remained firmly wrapped around his small body. Trowa
held out his hand, gesturing for the boy to step forward. Triton quickly,
yet fearfully complied, stopping not too far away.
Slowly, Trowa pulled Triton’s arms from around his frame, lightly
tugging at the garment that he wore. “This will be easier if
you undress.” Trowa commented.
Triton nodded slightly, a flicker of terror invading his green eyes
momentarily. He raised his arms, allowing Trowa to pull his top off
for him. His body trembling, Triton stripped off the rest of his clothes.
He stared down at the floor, everything about him exuding fear at
his current lack of clothing.
Without a word, Trowa picked Triton up, gently depositing him in
the tub of warm water. He applied some soap to a washcloth, then handed
the lathery cloth to Triton, allowing him to wash himself for the
most part. “I’ll just wash your back.” Trowa informed
the child, not wanting to frighten him further. Then he soaped up
the other washcloth, making sure that there was a good lather before
he gently began cleaning the child.
It went easily enough. Triton flinched with every touch that Trowa
made to his back, but he didn’t try to get away. He quietly
scrubbed himself off, yawning tiredly every now and then. He looked
quite tired. Of course that was to be expected since it was the middle
of the night and the bath was most likely soothing to him. Trowa rinsed
the suds from the boy’s body, pulling the plug to let the water
drain from the bathtub.
He grabbed the fluffy towel, shaking it open, then wrapped it around
the child and picked him up. Triton merely allowed the contact, not
objecting to it at all. Quietly, Trowa carried the tired child out
of the bathroom and back to the bedroom, where he found Catherine
smoothing out the wrinkles on the fresh sheets.
“There’s a fresh set of pajamas on the dresser there.”
Catherine pointed out, as Trowa set the child on the edge of the bed,
running the towel over his body to dry him. “I figured that
he’d need something to wear. Why don’t you get him dressed
while I get that warm milk for him to drink? Although it hardly looks
like he’ll need any help falling asleep.”
“Okay.” Trowa nodded, continuing the gentle rubbing to
dry off the child’s body . . . there had been no need to wash
his hair so it had remained dry.
Trowa left Triton’s side just long enough to grab the fresh
clothing. Triton allowed Trowa to help him get dressed, every now
and then wearily rubbing at his eyes and yawning. It was obvious that
Triton was tired, or else he probably would have objected to all of
this. Trowa himself did not like human contact all that much, and
Triton was even more fearful of it than he was. It was understandable
given their shared memories.
Trowa picked up Triton’s bear, then took a seat on the bed
by the child, holding the stuffed animal out for him to take. Triton
leaned against him, yawning once more as he curled his arms around
the bear. It wasn’t long before Catherine returned to the room,
a mug held in her hands.
“Here ya go.” Catherine smiled kindly, sitting on Triton’s
other side. “Milk with a touch of honey to sweeten it up.”
Triton took hold of the mug, drinking slowly. When he was finished,
he handed the mug back to Catherine, giving her a gentle, albeit small,
smile. Catherine brushed her hand through his hair as she rose from
her seat. Trowa stood as well, picking up Triton along with him. Catherine
pulled back the blankets on the bed, while Trowa set Triton down.
However, before Trowa could straighten up and move away, Triton grasped
his wrist as if his life depended on it, his eyes holding a desperate
pleading look as he grunted slightly.
Catherine’s hands lightly fell on Trowa’s back. “Aw,
the poor baby . . . he probably feels safer with you, Trowa.”
Catherine said. “I don’t think he wants you to leave him.”
“I guess I will have to sleep here then.” Trowa said,
nodding if only to himself. He wouldn’t want to disappoint the
child or cause him any strife. If Triton wanted Trowa to sleep with
him for comfort, then Trowa would do so.
Carefully, Trowa picked the boy up. Catherine took him from Trowa’s
grasp, holding him while Trowa got into bed. Then Catherine set Triton
down, bringing up the blankets to cover the both of them. She smiled,
watching as Triton immediately curled closer to Trowa, his small arms
holding the bear between their two bodies as he snuggled his face
up to Trowa’s chest. Trowa himself was quite pleased at the
amount of trust the child was showing . . . it was a great leap in
his normal state of timidity. Hesitantly, Trowa wrapped his arms around
Triton, wary of scaring the boy as well as of the contact himself.
“Trowa, he’s not going to break.” Catherine stated,
smirking at him. “I think he needs someone to hold onto . .
. might do him good to feel positive touches instead of the harsh
ones I’m sure he’s only known. It could calm him down
eventually if he’s shown kindness.”
Trowa nodded. “Yes.” He said quietly, pulling the boy
closer, his arms slightly tighter around the boy’s small frame.
He wished that he had been shown a similar amount of kindness in his
own childhood. Trowa knew then that he would make sure the child did
get better. He’d grow up to be the person Trowa should have
been.
“Goodnight, Trowa.” Catherine said, smiling pleasantly
to him.
“Sleep well.” Trowa responded, laying his head down on
the pillow as Catherine flipped off the light and left the room. Triton
moaned lightly, not out of fear but comfort, a sound that pleased
Trowa to hear. Trowa smirked, closing his own eyes and letting sleep
come to him, hoping that his clone would be able to grow up to be
the person that Trowa hadn’t been able to become himself.
*****
Duo slowly swam up through the layers of unconsciousness. He sighed
in contentment, basking in the delightful warmth that surrounded his
weary body. He didn’t know why he was so warm when just last
night he had been so unbearably cold, but he did like the feeling.
Blearily, he blinked open his eyes. He bit his bottom lip, his eyes
widening as he found his face pressed up against a strong, muscular
chest. Realization dawned on him, and Duo remembered that Heero had
climbed into bed with him last night. He frowned inwardly, knowing
that Heero had only meant to keep him warm and nothing else. This
contact between them was only to preserve Duo’s health. Heero
had no feelings for him, not in the way that Duo so fervently wished
he did anyway.
Carefully, slowly, using his years of training so as not to make
a sound or brush Heero’s skin in the wrong way, Duo moved himself
back a bit, just enough to see his face. Good God, Heero was simply
beautiful, his features so gentle and serene when he was asleep. He
looked so innocent . . . as if he had never been in a war, as if he
had never trained as an emotionless killing machine.
Duo’s gaze settled on Heero’s lips, feeling a strong
temptation to kiss them. He had loved Heero for a while now, but knew
that the feeling was not mutual. Heero only thought of him as a friend,
if that much at all. Still, Heero looked damn good right now. Duo
bit his lip, thinking over his options. Why not take the opportunity
presented to him? Heero was asleep. He’d never know that Duo
had taken such liberties if Duo was careful enough.
After a moment of thought, he gave into the urge and leaned forward,
just barely brushing against Heero’s inviting lips with his
own. The feeling was electrifying, the taste of Heero’s warm
lips was delicious. Yet, Duo resisted the urge to deepen it, reluctantly
drawing himself away before Heero could awaken. Smiling in satisfaction,
Duo closed his eyes and snuggled against Heero’s body, setting
his head against the Japanese youth’s chest as he sighed. He
did love the feel of the young man’s body pressed so delightfully
close to his own . . . he might as well enjoy it while he could.
It wasn’t long before Heero shifted slightly, apparently awakening.
His arms drew Duo closer briefly, then loosened, his one hand moving
to settle on Duo’s shoulder. “Duo?” He asked, his
voice tainted with a hint of weariness.
Duo faked a yawn, opening his eyes as he rolled onto his back, pretending
that he was just waking up himself. He winced, a headache pounding
in his skull as he offered a sheepish smile to Heero. “Hey,
good morning.” He frowned, raising a hand to the side of his
head, closing his eyes . . . his head hadn’t hurt that much
a moment ago, of course Heero’s beauty was a very enticing and
distracting sight. “My head is killing me.” He whimpered,
hating it when he didn’t feel well.
Duo blinked his eyes open, feeling as a cool hand settled on his
forehead, then touched his cheek. “You have a fever.”
Heero stated, looking down on Duo with a note of concern in his eyes.
“Stay here. I’ll go check on the children and see about
getting you breakfast.”
“I can get my own breakfast.” He argued, not really wanting
to stay in bed.
Heero shook his head. “You are not well, Duo. If you get out
of bed, you will only aggravate your condition. If you relax, then
perhaps you will not get worse.”
Duo sighed, seeing that Heero did have a point. “Yeah okay.
Just make sure you bring me something good to eat . . . I don’t
want anything weird either. Cereal or waffles, not the bland stuff
you usually eat.”
“Fine.” Heero conceded, slipping out of bed. He leaned
over and adjusted the blankets around Duo, making sure to cover him
more securely. Duo blinked, blushing slightly at the amount of attention
he was getting. He just wasn’t used to it. Besides, having a
half naked Heero leaning over him was a very pleasant thing.
*****
Heero straightened out the blankets, being sure that Duo was sufficiently
covered. He didn’t want Duo to catch a chill, not when he was
on the verge of illness. Smirking once more at Duo, Heero straightened
out and turned to leave. He reached out, grasping the handle of the
door, ready to leave even if he was clad only in a pair of sweat pants
and nothing else. He could dress after seeing that Duo got something
for breakfast.
He stopped once he was outside, leaning back against the door. Tentatively
he reached up, his fingers just barely grazing the skin of his lips.
Had that really happened or was it all a wonderful dream? Heero shook
his head. It had to have been the remnant of a dream . . . there was
no way that Duo had actually kissed him.
With a sigh, Heero pushed himself away from the door, heading downstairs
to see what kind of a meal he could manage to get for Duo as well
as himself. However, he paused at the door to the room where he had
left Odin and Chibi-Duo. He opened the door, only to find that neither
child was there. They must have already awakened, Heero thought, nodding
to himself as he resumed his trip to the kitchen.
As he neared the kitchen however, he started to grow concerned. There
was an odd commotion coming from there, as well as a particularly
unpleasant scent. He frowned, hastening his pace over to the kitchen
door. There, he paused, hearing the distinct giggle of children emanating
from within. He pushed open the door, only to blink as he took in
the sight of the room.
Apparently, Quatre had attempted to cook for the children . . . and
was failing miserably. There was batter and flour everywhere, covering
the counters and some of the walls. The clones were sitting around
the kitchen table, their hands over their mouths as they snickered
and found amusement in the act playing out before them. Wufei was
sitting with them, trying to fight the grin that was creeping over
his features. They were similarly covered in flour and batter, but
most of it was on Quatre.
Heero watched as Quatre flipped what he guessed was a pancake. It
was difficult to tell since it was misshapen. Sadly, Quatre flipped
too hard and the uncooked side stuck to the ceiling. It was enough
to make Heero quirk a smile . . . seeing as Quatre dejectedly looked
up at the lost pancake.
“Having problems, Quatre?” Heero asked.
Quatre spun, spatula in hand. “Oh, Heero . . . Good morning.”
He greeted, a sheepish smile on his face. Barely a moment later, the
pancake detached from the ceiling and landing directly on his head.
Heero couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sight.
Quatre grimaced, pulling some of the pancake from atop his head.
He dropped it on the counter, sighing deeply as he picked at the sticky
bits in his hair. “I only wanted to make them something to eat.”
He pouted.
Wufei rose from his seat and stepped forward. “I don’t
believe pancakes are your strong suit, Winner.” Wufei commented,
turning off the stove.
“Why didn’t you help him?” Heero asked, looking
around the shambles that had once been a kitchen.
Wufei smirked. “It was more entertaining to watch.” Then
he went about making more batter, managing to keep it all in the bowl
unlike Quatre.
“And some people say you don’t have a sense of humor.”
Heero smiled, if only faintly.
“Ha ha! Very funny. So I can’t make pancakes. I can cook
other things quite well.” Quatre replied.
A small hand tugged on Heero’s pants, gaining his attention.
Heero looked down, seeing Chibi-Duo looking up at him, a concerned
expression on his young face. “Yes?” Heero asked.
Chibi-Duo frowned. “Where’s my daddy?”
“Daddy?” Quatre asked, pausing as he swiped the flour
from his clothes, blinking in obvious confusion. “Heero . .
. Duo was an orphan. Who is Chibi-Duo’s father?”
“Duo is.” Heero answered simply.
Chibi-Duo grinned and nodded. “Yup! To make a clone, ya need
a bit of the original. Same thing as making a baby. You need a bit
of the daddy and a bit of the mommy. That’s what Sister Helen
said anyway. So that makes him my daddy.” He smiled proudly.
Raberba blinked, looking up at Quatre with a distressed expression
on his face. Quatre looked down at the boy and smiled warmly. “You
can be my brother if thinking of me as your father makes you uncomfortable.”
Raberba let out a deep sigh. “Thank you.” He uttered
quietly, then walked back over to the table and took a seat.
“So?” Chibi-Duo tugged on Heero’s pants again.
“Where is he?”
Heero sighed. “Duo caught a chill last night and it looks like
he got a cold because of it.” He noted that the child was growing
paler and thought it best to calm his worries. “It isn’t
anything serious.”
“You're gonna make sure he gets better, right?” Chibi-Duo
asked, his eyes hopeful and scared all at the same time.
Heero was unsure as to why the child was reacting so severely to
such a simple thing such as a cold . . . perhaps there was more to
Duo than Heero knew. “Of course I will.” He nodded. “I
came down here to get breakfast for him.”
“The pancakes will be ready soon.” Wufei stated, flipping
over a nicely formed pancake. Heero noticed that Quatre was glaring
at the sight slightly, perhaps a touch jealous that Wufei could make
such normal looking pancakes.
Shaking his head, Heero turned his attention away from Quatre and
stepped over to the refrigerator. He opened the door of the appliance,
taking out a carton of orange juice. He poured some of the juice into
a glass after he had acquired one. Quatre found a tray from somewhere
and placed it on a counter for Heero’s use. Heero thanked him,
then set the glass of juice down on the tray.
Only a few minutes later, Wufei finished cooking a stack of pancakes
and handed the plate holding them over to Heero. Heero nodded his
thanks and set about getting any other necessary items, setting utensils
on the tray as well. When he was satisfied that he had everything
required, he left the kitchen and headed back up to serve Duo’s
breakfast to the ill young man.
*******
TBC
*******
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