Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Pull Up For The J! ❯ The Ex Factor ( Chapter 31 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
Max explains his feelings; can Trowa accept them?
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.21.2005 | Pages: 4 | Words: 7.8K | Visits: 217 | Status: Completed
Max explains his feelings; can Trowa accept them?
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.21.2005 | Pages: 4 | Words: 7.8K | Visits: 217 | Status: Completed
Chapter Thirty-One:
“The Ex Factor” Lauren Hill
Max took a deep, steady breath as he blinked in the early morning light, following Trowa outside. He noticed that the taller boy was taking him away from the front doors, and around the corner, where the ambulances were parked. Ooh, boy–Trowa Barton was looking to kick his ass for his sensational thinking. And Max didn’t think he deserved it–after all, it wasn’t as if he were hurting anybody. He hadn’t quite told them both what he felt–the time hadn’t been quite right. But for Trowa to doubt that his intentions were less than honorable...well...
And, really, he wasn’t a stranger to fights, anyway. He was actually a pretty good fighter. In Yuma, for being mixed and for looking the way he did–well, most guys didn’t really like it, and taught him in their own ways, how to defend himself. Sure, he’d lose one here and there, but there wasn’t a person who’d tried that couldn’t say he couldn’t fight.
He knew where Trowa was taking this. He knew what Trowa was doing. And while he was more than extremely nervous that Trowa wanted to do so, he had a level of confidence that kept him from completely breaking down and blubbering like a pansy about it. So he took a deep breath and scored out an advantage point over the taller guy, looking for places that would enable him to get in clean hits and kicks without having him pinned because of the other boy’s longer reach.
Finally, Trowa led him to a spot where the corner of the building hid them away from the parking lot, and from the medics manning the ambulances nearby. It was a small alley that was formed from another building, which looked like a maintenance shop for the emergency vehicles that drove for the hospital. Max stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, breathing cold air as he faced Trowa, who was blocking his way from the way they’d come.
The taller boy, his eyeliner smudged and looking rather sad in his overall appearance, loomed over him with a menacing air.
“Now,” he began, his smooth bass tinged with barely controlled fury. “Tell me again about this situation you have going on with my ex...and his fucking friend.”
“Well,” Max began, albeit nervously. He really didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to cause any trouble! He just...well, he just felt things differently for two people, and he knew it was weird, but...maybe he shouldn’t have opened his big mouth. “Well...you see...when I first came to Darken, I...I wasn’t sure how things were going to work out, I mean–”
“I didn’t ask for that!” Trowa roared.
“I have feelings for them, both, and yes, it’s selfish and quite odd, but...I can’t...I can’t change what I feel. True, I don’t even know them, but I would love to,” Max stammered, fiddling with one of his earrings. “I would love to get to know them both in a way that would...really...”
“You think this is something of a sick kick for you, isn’t it?” Trowa asked, his voice dangerously low. He took a step forward, and Max dropped his hold on his earring, preparing himself to either strike or defend as Trowa continued. “You came in thinking that maybe you can play with one, and then go with the other when the first doesn’t work out...”
“No, I–”
“And, of course, you did it because those particular two hadn’t been given such attention before. Because everyone dislikes Quatre. Because everyone hates Felicia. No matter that they’re both pretty popular and really stand-offish–but what makes you think that you can come in and fuck all over him? I don’t fucking care what you do with her–I could give a shit about her. But what you do with him–”
“I KNOW, all right?” Max shot back. “I know what you feel! You still feel strongly for your ex! And I know that what I want is strange! And it can hurt! But–”
“But you’re still going to do it?”
“I...I...want to....I just...I can’t explain this any further,” Max trailed off, frowning. “I mean...I really like Felicia’s aggressiveness and she has a striking beauty about her that just...and Quatre, he’s really handsome and he has this playfulness about him that really makes one wonder if he’s serious or not...but...they’re both really interesting individuals, and...yes...I want them both. I want Felicia for the person she’s not showing to everyone, and I want Quatre for the individual that you obviously know and love...it’s a complicated issue...”
“You fucking bastard....You fucking dick! You fucking half-breed shit!” Trowa screamed at him. “You just can’t play with people’s feelings that way!”
“What do you know?” Max shouted back at him. “You’re the one pulling Sylvia around, and then lagging after Quatre! Who the hell are you to tell me I can’t do it when you’re the one obviously doing it yourself!”
“Quatre knows I still have feelings for him, and Sylvia, well, let’s just say things aren’t serious–”
“Then what the fuck makes you different from me, huh?” Max snarled, glaring at him.
Trowa retreated, obviously never thinking about that. Max realized he had him, and calmed himself, swallowing. Damn it...he needed his meds. Things were starting to get a little iffy right now. He stepped back from Trowa, feeling a cold sweat break out on his brow.
“I...I just...I don’t want him getting hurt...”
“How can a person learn to live if someone’s padding his every step?” Max asked.
Trowa frowned at him, looking extremely miffed. “I still don’t like what you’re doing.”
“I won’t say anything. But...I just...I feel that I need to be here. For...well, for her, really. I mean...I notice she’s more than blunt when it comes to thinking that she’s some sort of Wonder Woman...”
“Yeah...well...who cares about her? I just want Quatre to be okay...I just don’t want him sucked in this stupid game of yours...”
“That’s for him to decide.”
“It’s just not–!”
“That’s for him to decide!”
“I don’t like you, Sheridan. I don’t like you, and I don’t think I ever will. You’re just as sneaky as the motherfucker that–!” Trowa trailed off, remembering Jared and his confession. Suddenly, it was important that he call and tell someone what his roommate had said. Really, he wanted to beat the bastard’s head in with his damn boots, but–! This was the more mature way. He had to alert the responsible authorities to take charge of the situation. He turned away from Max, who breathed an audible sound of relief. Frowning in his direction, Trowa took out his cell phone, and called information for Ramos’ number. When the coach answered, rather sleepily but immediately alert, Trowa let him know what his roommate said, knowing that he, ultimately, would be the one getting into trouble.
Trowa knew, as he talked with Ramos, that it was because of him that Quatre was here at the hospital. His drugs, hidden within his room–he had to bet that Jared had found his stash and had used it. The bastard had used it. And for what? But that would come later. He had to talk to Quatre before his own actions took him away.
With a sigh of resignation, after hanging up with Ramos, Trowa stared at the ground. He looked at Max, who was watching him carefully, waiting for more words to be exchanged, or something else. Trowa looked away from him, walking back to the emergency care waiting room.
“Just don’t fucking hurt him. If you do...I’m going to kick your stupid ass,” he muttered.
Max smiled, following after him, relieved that they didn’t come to blows. “I won’t...I promise.”
Trowa grunted at that, not liking this at all, but...he might as well as accept things and get things over with. Because once Jared told the authorities that it was his stash he’d used to drug Quatre, then Trowa had a feeling he was going away for a very long time. Especially since he was eighteen; legally an adult, so he’d be tried as an adult. He sighed heavily, shaking his head, feeling very old–and needing a hit.
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Felicia looked up when Quatre started to stir, sleepily grumbling about feeling sick. With an amused smile, she shifted in her seat, leaning over his bed so that she could rest her elbows atop the mattress. She smoothed his hair from his face, making a face at the clammy skin she felt. When he finally opened his eyes, looking at her in confusion, she smiled.
“Oh, fuck me,” he muttered, looking obscenely troubled. “What’d I do?”
“You mean, what’d we do?”
“...What?”
“You don’t remember? We went to a party, got drunk, and here we are, in bed together!”
Quatre opened his eyes, looking around the room. With confusion plain on his face, he looked at her. She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Sorry. You’re not. Quatre, something shitty happened. You fuckin’ overdosed at the game last night.”
“...What?”
“Listen. Just listen. You had shit in your socks–Double G. You absorbed the drug, and...it was too much for your system. Especially when you hadn’t been doin’ shit...” she trailed off, looking at him pointedly.
In numb confusion, he shook his head to indicate that he hadn’t. With a smile of relief, she continued. “And so, you overdosed. Compared to some users, and for your...I dunno...first time, you took a dosage that equaled a few hits. That’s too much. You basically stopped your entire system during that game. Playin’ helped out, too. It sped up the high. Quat, how long did you feel sick?”
“I...I don’t...for a couple of days, I guess. I mean...I was feeling it yesterday–where am I?”
“Grand Junction Memorial. There’s some cops and stuff that wanna talk to you. But...I never believed that you would do that shit. You fuckin’ hated when Trowa did it...”
“I know! I...I...how could this have happened? Felicia, I don’t–I never took anything from anybody!”
“I know, babe, I know. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t do that. It was in your sock. You absorbed it that way. Someone did this with the intention of making you drugged, or...something...” she trailed off, reaching over to straighten the i.v. line that was curled over his shoulder. “So...tell them what you know. You won’t get into trouble, Quat. It’s not your fault. Some motherfucker did this to hurt you. Intentionally. And Ramos knows that some shits were threatening you, so he made that suggestion. So...you’re in the clear, Quat. You did nothing wrong...”
Quatre stared off at the back wall of the room, quietly thinking over what she was telling him. Felicia, feeling very relieved that things were going to be fine, lowered her head against his arm, exhaling with relief. She’d been so scared–! And to think, someone had done this with the intention of malicious and cruel purpose! She wanted to maim and kill...but her first instinct had been to stay at his side. She didn’t want to admit that she’d been crying earlier–how embarrassing. He’d never let her hear the end of it. She rubbed his arm soothingly, marveling over the strength it had, and the way it felt under her hand.
She looked at him again, catching his sullen stare. She reached over to smooth his sideburns behind his ear, the touch more maternal and friendly than anything else. She just wanted to make sure he was going to be fine...that was all...
“You scared me, asshole,” she said, straightening from the bed. But she curled her fingers through his, in a gesture meant to comfort herself. “Doing that....dude, you basically died in the girls’ locker room. What’s with you and all this drama?”
“Hey...shut it. How was I supposed to know someone did this to me?” he grumbled, but she received a squeeze of his fingers through hers. The gesture was comforting. “Fuck...who won?”
She laughed, pulling her hand away. “We did. At least, that’s what Ramos said. He left when you did on the ambulance. It was awesome. I think I’m going to drive one one day. The guy was hot.”
“Was he? And you were there?”
“Hyep. I wasn’t going to let my best buddy o’ gayness get away from me. By the way, you had a lot of people here, last night, Quat. The team...Drake, Go, Jake Trip, Justin, some guys from Balkin, some guys from Roseville, some from fuckin’ Ferndale...even Jamie and Ian were here for a little while. The chingy-Changs, some fans...dude, even Sylvia and Trowa. Of course, Trowa.”
Quatre looked at her sharply. “Trowa was here?”
“He still is, actually. Wanna see him before I rouse the coppers? I think he’s still downstairs. OH!” she then breathed, clutching his arm. “And Max, too...You’re so fuckin’ lucky! His hotness will cure all ills!”
“What?”
“Yeah! They stayed here all night! And...I guess Sylvia’s okay...I mean...y’know? She ain’t that bad.”
Quatre stared at her for a few moments, then broke into a slight grin. “Whatever. You hate her guts.”
“It’s a girl thing,” Felicia murmured, grinning back. She patted his arm. “I’ll go get the goth-man. You stay here and try and look all pretty. Oh, and Ramos contacted your aunt and uncle–they were on the first flight over here. I don’t know when that was. So, they’re comin’, ‘k? After that...I’m headin’ home. Stayin’ with you sucks ass.”
“You stayed with me all night?”
“You know it. You’re my best friend, Quatre,” she added, rather softy, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable for a second. “I just...I couldn’t go knowing....that you...okayI’mgoingnow. Bye!”
She was out the door before he could try and make fun of her for nearly crying. But then...he felt touched. And wondrous. Wow...she was human...
But not only that, Trowa was here? While confusion and bewilderment still racked him as that someone had did this to him purposely, evoking late images of the obituary and the notes and chocolate, he had to admit that thinking that Trowa was here for him made him feel good. And to know that he had so many friends that were concerned for him. It was a little embarrassing, rather. To know that all those people came here because he’d almost–well....because he’d almost died. It was a very strange feeling to know that he wouldn’t have been here right now, if not for the efforts of the hospital staff and the paramedics. He couldn’t remember much of last night–just thinking of Ramos and how angry he probably was when he’d thrown up on his shoes.
Well...even then...to know that so many people were here for him...it was a good feeling. A very good feeling...
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Felicia sniffed and tried to compose herself as she took the long hallway down to the waiting room, where she was sure the other two were. Hoping that she just looked sleepy rather than like she was crying, she peeked into the room. The plainclothes was waiting there, but he was watching tv, sipping a cup of coffee. Not wanting to alert him, she saw Trowa and Max sitting nearby, and dropped to the floor. She crawled over to them, keeping out of sight from the plainclothes, and popped up between them. They gave surprised looks, but she slapped a hand over Trowa’s mouth, and indicated with a thumb behind her. Trowa nodded after shaking off her hand, and slipped off after a glance in the cop’s direction. Max frowned at her, and rose from his chair, pulling her with him.
When they walked out, Trowa making his way to Quatre’s room, she said, “Well, it looks like he’s gonna do fine. Y’know? All cured. He should be leaving by tonight, or something.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah...I ain’t the one all holed up on the bed.”
“You know, it’s really admirable that you’re so devoted to him,” Max said, shrugging off his jacket. He placed it around her shoulders, and she gave him a disgusted look at the act of chivalry. He merely smiled, and chuckled. “Just wear it. You look cold.”
“I’m not some kind of stupid weak chick that–!”
“No, you’re not,” he said, smoothing her ponytail with his hand. “But you’re human. And you’re exhausted. And you need someone to take care of you after you’ve been taking care of someone else...”
“Ugh...watch Lifetime much? I don’t do this sort of stupid crap–!”
“Just wear it. So you can sneak out. That uniform’s really bright.”
“Heh. I can land space shuttles with this thing alone,” she agreed with a shaky chuckle. Actually...with his jacket around her, smelling of him, and his presence....damn it. Must be strong! Must not channel Lifetime!
“But I don’t need it–”
“Wear it, or I’m going to tell everyone that you tried to rape me in the bathroom over there. And that you’re actually a man.”
She gave him a disgusted expression, and he pushed her into the elevator. “You sick motherf–”
“Look...you’re tired...hungry...and presumably yearning for a shower. All you chicks are like that,” he said, smiling at her. “I can give you a ride to Darken, and you can do all that, and come back here by twelve.”
“Really? I mean...it’s like...you can stay. I find a ride back,” she said, giving up on the battle over the jacket. It actually felt very warm, and his scent...wow. It was making her all calm and sleepy-like.
“Trowa’s taking care of him right now. And I have a feeling that’s what they both need. And you need me more.”
“Arrogant much? I don’t need anybody!”
“You say that, Felicia Ann, but that’s really untrue.”
“How...how did you know my middle name?”
“You’re only in the tabloids every week, chick.”
“Oh...duh. I’m tired. I can’t think straight.”
“I know,” he said as they walked out from the elevator. Without warning, his arm was around her shoulders, pulling her in close for a kiss on the forehead. The move was really startling and sudden, and she was practically numb that it happened. “I’ll take care of you. Just let it happen, and I won’t tell anyone. Deal?”
“Whatever...”
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Trowa walked into the room, Quatre spotting him instantly. For a second, Trowa wasn’t sure what to say as he walked over, feeling entirely guilty for the whole thing. Quatre stared at him, feeling a little sheepish in his own way as Trowa came to a stop by his bedside. For a few long moments, neither could say anything. Then, Trowa reached down to touch his shoulder, his fingers curling slightly over the muscle. He found himself sniffing, then losing it as his face crumbled, tears leaking from his eyes.
Quatre immediately tried to sit up, reaching out to him questioningly. Trowa pressed his face against his neck, hugging him awkwardly in their positions. Automatically seeking to comfort, Quatre hugged him back, running his hands through the goth’s hair as the other’s shoulders shook.
“I’m so fucking sorry!” he heard Trowa sob into his neck. “I was the cause of all this! I...I did it all!”
Quatre stilled, wondering how in the world that could be when Trowa pulled away, wiping his eyes. This smeared his make-up, but neither cared as Quatre looked at him with a questioning expression.
“The drugs...all of it. I mean...I know who did this, but...I basically supplied him. I...I basically did this to you,” Trowa said, sniffling.
“I...what do you mean? I don’t...”
“Last night...I had this really bad feeling. It was...it was a really bad feeling, and I knew it was you, and... man. Everyone was just running around, crying that you were dead. And all I could do was just wonder what they were on. It was just...unreal. I know you didn’t do drugs, and...then fuckin’ Jared was telling me he didn’t mean to kill you. He only wanted to make you pay! Whatever the fuck that meant....”
Quatre stared at him in silence, blinking ever so often. For Trowa to display his feelings like this...well...that had always been hard for him to handle. Trowa was just so unemotional, indifferent to those that didn’t know him. And for people like him, people that really knew him...well...it was different. Much different. He reached out, wiping the goth’s tears with his own fingers. He still didn’t understand, but Trowa said something about Jared...he stilled with the action, sucking in a deep breath, murder plain on his face.
Trowa had to snort and bark out some laughter as he had to haul Quatre’s hospital gown ass back into the bed, the monitors all shrieking furiously from the lack of contact they had when the boy ripped off the electronics.
“That FUCKER!” he shouted furiously, Trowa trying to untangle the lines that were still attached to him. Bed sheets flew as Quatre kicked and raged furiously atop the bed. “I can’t believe this fucking bullshit! WHY? WHY THE FUCK?”
“I don’t know, love, calm down,” Trowa said, trying to hush him as he wiped his eyes.
A nurse hurried in, eyeing them both suspiciously as she looked at the mess, having heard the shouts.
“You need to get out of here,” she snapped at him, replacing the heart monitor device, and glaring at Quatre. “You need to calm down.”
Trowa shook his head, not wanting to go, but the nurse looked ready to perform some kung fu if he didn’t get moving. He brushed by her, gripping Quatre’s head between his two hands, and kissed him fiercely.
“I still love you. I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry,” he apologized, hurrying away when the nurse’s eyes widened at the display.
Quatre stared after him, refusing to believe that it was Trowa’s fault. No...no it was all Jared’s fault... that little creep! He’d better pray he was behind juvie bars when Quatre got out of here! Because if he wasn’t...
He cracked his knuckles furiously, growling as he thought of the many various ways in which he could kill that boy with those stupid glasses of his...
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Sylvia was still more than numb when she reached Darken’s campus. As she pulled into the garage, she sighed, feeling slightly ill from it all. She recognized that Trowa still had feelings for Quatre. That had been painfully obvious from the start. She knew this. She knew this from the start that Trowa still had feelings for him, and no matter who they were with, no matter what, they were going to still have feelings for each other. She was right–she couldn’t hope to understand what they had because she hadn’t experienced it. She hadn’t seen it for herself, hadn’t experienced it for herself. She had no right to come in and claim that they should be feeling this and that just because of that and this.
It wasn’t right, granted, that they continued to do this to each other and to those that cared for them, wanting to be a part of them. But...she had a feeling that although they were on the road to fixing things between each other and between themselves, there wasn’t going to be much room for those lingering on the sidewalk.
Which meant...her time with Trowa was limited, right now. Once Quatre realized that he wanted back with Trowa, that was it. She would lose him. And she would be the one looking at them from the outside, yearning for what they had with each other.
She sighed again, getting out from the car. Making her way to the dormitory, she had to admit, what they had was pretty neat. Too deep for high school, but truly and unmistakably grounded. Even if they continued to stay separated, their maturing developments and feelings were a foundation for something impossibly stronger and bigger in the future.
Which only made her more determine to enjoy what time she had with Trowa now, because once they both realized that, she wouldn’t have the chance again.
Which is why she would continue to stand beside the goth when he needed to rush to Quatre’s side. She was going to take this in a purely different perspective when it came down to something like this.
She won’t hold Trowa back–that end result would land her in the cold, tossed aside because Trowa didn’t want to deal with her anymore. She didn’t want that. She wanted his respect and his own form of admiration for her. So...she was going to be understanding and caring, and try, above all else, to keep her head up.
Man...she’d make a good wife someday...
She laughed at herself, a bark of sound that sounded strained to her. She walked into the dormitory building, realizing that since it was Saturday, classes were still in session. She hurried up to Trowa’s room, and saw the yellow tape clinging to the door, along with a posted sign that no one was to be admitted. That it was under investigation.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, heart racing, wondering that if, for some reason, Trowa’s drugs were discovered and the goth was heading into jail. But who would snitch? Who would snitch on Trowa?
She turned and hurried to her room. Her roommate had left a note on the bed, and she read it quickly, eyes widening with surprise and complete shock.
She groped the night stand drawer for her cellphone, and dialed Trowa’s number.
Upon hearing him, she could have laughed in relief. “Trowa! Guess what? I just tried to get into your room, and...shit! Jared was arrested!”
“I...I know...Um...are they looking for me?”
“No! Barbara, my roommate–she left a note. Jared confessed that he was the one that had threatened Quatre in the past, that he obtained drugs through his own...can’t read that word. But...nothing about you...”
“He’s my roommate, Sylvia.”
“I know, but–! There’s nothing about you, here. Trowa, listen to me. Don’t say anything to anybody, not unless they fucking question you about it directly,” she said. “Don’t lie, don’t make up any stories...”
“Jared stole from my stash, Sylvia! From mine! They’re going to know that I supplied it!”
“NO! It just said that Jared–look. I’ll talk to Lindy, all right. She’ll give me the full story. Just...how is he?”
“...Fine...Sylvia...I’m really sorry. I just...”
“Trowa, it’s all right,” she said softly, shoulders slumping. “I...I understand. It’s all right. You don’t have to make excuses, you don’t have to say anything. Just...be there for him. And for yourself. And I’ll come out with something later, okay? I’m going to take a shower and all that, and I should be out there by two. All right?”
“...Sylvia...thanks. I can’t thank you enough–”
“Just go to the dance with me next week. That’ll be thanks enough,” she said with a chuckle, already having the outfit she wanted him to wear.
“...Whatever.”
“Don’t ‘whatever’ me. Just...it’s all right. By two, okay? And I’ll call you after I talk to Lindy.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay...bye-bye...”
Sylvia hung up the phone, sighing as she surveyed her room. Great. Might as well as tie him off with a bow tie and address a To: and From: card from her to Quatre.
“Don’t fuck things up,” she muttered, and wasn’t sure whom it was addressed to.
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When Max and Felicia arrived, the waiting room was filled once more with people looking to visit Quatre and/or support him. She was surprised, looking at all the familiar faces and many unfamiliar ones. Beside her, Max raised his eyebrows, touching her elbow to prod her to continue on. She wanted to throw a fit because he was touching her so much. Touching her hand, touching her hair, touching her shoulder, touching her elbow–! He was driving her crazy with his touches!! Mainly because they were really pleasant. And she felt good about it. And she had a rule about boys making her feel good on terms like these...she just couldn’t remember it right now.
“Hey,” she greeted Trowa, seeing that the boy looked utterly exhausted.
She wondered where Sylvia was, and reached into her bag for some cigarettes. He took them gratefully. She supplied him with a lighter, and watched him walk out. She looked back around the room, noting that the unfamiliar faces were...pretty new. She didn’t know any of them. But they looked vaguely familiar. She gnashed her teeth when she felt Max’s hands on her hips, his breath against her ear.
“Sit down. You’re making everyone tense.”
“Stop bossin’ me around,” she muttered, waving a hand in his general direction. She took a seat next to Jake, who smirked at her as Michael was entertained by a portable movie player. With Nemo, of course.
“Who’s the guy?” he asked, looking up at Max as he was suddenly assaulted by a woman years older than him. She waved the question off.
“Did you talk to him?”
“No. Actually, I hadn’t had a chance to. Mike and I just got here. His family has been in there all day.”
“He has family? Can demons have families?”
“You have one. Who’s the guy?”
“Never MIND. Who’s who?”
Jake pointed at each woman in turn, all of whom were occasionally sniffing and talking low to each other. “Fatima, Amaya. Gloria–her partner Miranda. Sanaya. Shasha and her daughters, Andrea and Annissa. Tobey. Frannie. Mickey. Carrie. And Claudia, with her daughter, Tenile. Want their ages and phone numbers?”
“Blow yourself!”
Michael looked up, and told her, “Suck dick and die, bitch!”
“Michael!”
“God, your kid’s so fu–potty mouthed, man. Go to those Mommie and Me classes and get him all straightened out. Shit.”
“Who’s the guy?”
“Will you SHUT up about HIM?”
“Dude,” Drake interrupted, leaning over, giving her a questionable expression. “What’s with the getup?”
Felicia raised her eyebrows. She looked down at the strapless spring dress underneath a blazer, then looked at him questioningly, blushing as she realized she’d dressed this way with Max in mind. “Oh, so you’re talking to me, now?”
“Man...fuck. I was just asking.”
“Fuck. You stopped talking to me because I began playin’, then you wanna know what the fuck is up with my outfit?”
“I was just askin’! Shit! I didn’t come here to start shit with ya!”
“Well, blow it out your fuckin’ ass! As far as I’m concerned, you’ve been nothin’ but dick to me!”
“An’ you ain’t nothin’ but a motherfuckin’ hypocrite, you fuckin’ apple!”
“Fuck you!”
“I’m going to spank you both and put you in time-out if you both don’t shut up,” Jake threatened, giving them glares. The pair turned away from each other while Michael gave his father an impressed smile.
Felicia huffed, frowning as she looked at the other people that she knew. Justin, of course, who was talking on his cell, and decked out in his lettermen’s and some jeans...some kids from Darken...some guys from various parties...not as many as those that had come last night, but enough to assure her that her best friend was still on their minds, his welfare being the utmost concern to them all.
Max walked over to her, a little scared as the woman tried to follow him.
“Well...how is he?” he asked as he took a seat next to her.
“I dunno. Good, I guess...Jake said just his family’s been in there.”
“Wow...big family.”
“Yeah.” She turned back to Jake. “I thought you worked, today. And Celia got him?”
“It’s Saturday, numb nut. The whore’s–excuse me, his mother’s out recovering somewhere. And I do have to work, but I took a few hours off to see how the asshole’s doing. Mike’s very concerned for him,” he added, looking down at his son.
Michael sensed that they were talking about him, and turned to look at her. “Uncle’s sick? He took a lot of drugs?”
“He didn’t. Someone just made him very sick.”
“But I heard Drake and that guy saying that another guy made him take drugs, and he got all sick.”
Drake looked affronted that he was mentioned, and hissed, “Traitor!” to him.
“You shouldn’t listen to blue haired people,” Felicia scolded. “They’re all fucked up in the head.”
“Hey!”
“Don’t cuss, please,” Jake said on a sigh.
“Daddy! I wanna see him, now!”
“You can’t. His auntie and uncle are in there.”
“Kick them out.”
“I can’t do that...they have a right to be in there...”
“So? I have a right to be there...”
Felicia laughed at Michael’s words, and ruffled his hair. “You’re okay, kid.”
“Ew. Whore germs...”
“MIKE!”
“Ouch, but damn am I proud that a four year old knows my rep!”
“You’re not a whore,” Max corrected, patting her knee. “You’re misunderstood.”
“Who’s the–?”
“SHUT IT!”
When Rashid walked into the room, everyone silenced, the family members rising to their feet in question. Now that she thought about it, a majority of these women looked eerily like Quatre. Felicia looked at them curiously as the tall man took his place beside one of them, sighing with exhaustion.
“He’s going to be fine,” he said, his voice deep and rather commanding. “An investigation is going to be carried out, and a suspect has already been taken into custody. He’ll be released tonight.”
“This is fucking ridiculous!” one of the women, Sasha, cursed. “Who does this sort of thing in high schools? I thought this academy screened drug users from their grounds!”
“It isn’t that simple, Sasha,” Rashid said, trying to calm her. “When one truly wants something, they’re going to sneak it in...and it was a malicious act, a serious one–”
“He could have DIED!” she about bellowed, her daughters looking embarrassed as they tried to tell her to lower her voice.
“But he didn’t. And he is doing fine. The culprit has been arrested. The school is cracking down on the supplier, and the other users, which...” he trailed off as several of the kids hastily exited the room, Drake included. Felicia tried to pretend that she was too interested in Michael’s movie to realize what was being said. If this was true, there was no doubt in her mind she was going to be busted as well.
“Uh...”
“But he is fine?” Amaya asked, purple lips pulled back with a grimace. “I mean...he’s going to be released, so...there isn’t, like, damaging aftereffects?”
“No. Fortunately, no. Lana is taking her time...the nurse is going to allow visitors three at a time. When she comes back, is it all right if family goes first?” he asked, looking at the other various people that nodded and murmured their own agreements.
Jake slapped his hand over Felicia’s mouth as she started to protest.
“Ow...”
“I...really want to thank you for...for being here for him,” Rashid then continued, turning to face the various faces of Quatre’s friends and rivals. “I...I was surprised that so many people turned out. I know how my boy is...legally, he’s my nephew, but I have raised him as if he were my own son. And I know how he is, and it’s just surprising that...he’s made such an impact on all of you. Enough for you to take time off work, and your busy schedules...just to come and see him. I’m sure he’s quite pleased that you’re here...”
“Damn well better be,” someone muttered, but he was quickly silenced.
“Jigga,” Felicia snickered, ignoring the stares from the blond’s family.
“I just...want to thank you. He’s very happy here, very content, and he...I’m sure he’ll miss it when he comes back to Laramie this summer.”
A great silence descended over the entire group as the words sunk in. Felicia sunk low in her seat, hating that the idea was so final. Thus, the reason for her wanting to drop out.
“He’s moving back there?” #21 from Roseville asked. “Is that even on a map?”
“I don’t even know where Wyoming is,” Jake snorted.
“Why can’t he stay?” Justin asked, his face screwed up with uncertainty. “There’s plenty of people here that will let him live with them...”
“You’ll let him life with ya, J?” Felicia asked, turning in her seat while Max tried to keep her dress from flapping upwards.
“NO. I was just saying...”
Amid the quiet laughter and mocking words directed at Justin, Rashid smiled, and shook his head.
“No. It is a matter of financial discretion...even with a scholarship allowing him to stay, we...my wife and I...cannot provide any much more for living expenses and for the cost of his attendance. We are...middle class and unable to make nearly a third of what your parents must be,” he added, a little bitterly.
“Don’t he have a rich daddy?” a black student asked, from where he was sitting with Justin.
“His father and...uh, Quatre are not on speaking terms. Legally, Lana and I are granted to take care of him until his father...sorts out his own qualms.”
“So...he ain’t coming back for next year?” the same student asked, frowning.
Murmurs started as many of them fully disagreed with this idea. Felicia pouted about it, giving Max a glare when the boy reached out to flick her hair from her shoulders. Jake started to ask once more when Rashid cleared his throat.
“I...concerning this situation, I was convinced to take him back home with us, immediately. But...since the culprit has been apprehended...my wife convinced me to keep him here for the rest of the year. But...he will not return. And it just really...makes me feel so happy that he’s...obviously in good hands with the lot of you. That...that you take him as he is.”
“Get his ex in here. He needs to hear that!” someone muttered, and the blonds on the other side of the room looked up sharply. “Or...oops...did ya’ll know that?”
Rashid turned a faint color, having never bothered mentioning that little fact to the women gathered here.
“Rashid?” Gloria asked, looking at him. “What was that?”
“Ya’ll didn’t know he was gay?” someone hissed from the back, the others shooting him mean looks.
“He’s ‘gay’?” Sasha repeated, in disgust. Gloria immediately turned toward her.
“You have a problem with that, sis?”
“I still have a problem with you and her!”
“‘Her’ has a name, and it’s Miranda!”
“Death to lesbians,” Felicia muttered, Jake and Max slapping their hands over her mouth.
“Rashid, how come you didn’t tell us Quatre is gay?” Fatima asked, her dark features scowling as she stared at her uncle.
“Uh...well...that’s his decision, it’s his–”
“We’re his family! We deserve the right to know!” Sanaya growled.
“There should be no problem with him being gay!” Gloria shouted, angrily regarding her sisters with a furious expressions. Her partner meekly sat in her chair, refusing to look up as voices began to rise.
When Trowa walked in, most of the women were shouting at each other, girls were crying, and Michael was happily repeating all the bad things he could pick up. Generally, the room was in chaos. He blinked, wondering what had happened as several kids hurriedly left the room in a smatter of giggles and whispers.
Felicia leaned back in her chair, hands behind her head.
“They just found out Quat’s homo,” she reported. “You might wanna scram before someone says you’re the ex. They’re rarin’ to castrate something...”
“They were talking about me?”
“You’re asshole’s ex?” Jake asked, looking at the goth once more. “Ha! You guys don’t even look like you should be together!”
“...what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Who the fuck are you?”
“Trowa gets reallllly grumpy when people insult his eyeliner, Jake. Leave him alone.”
“No, seriously! I can’t see those two together!”
“Why don’t you just take your kid and fuck off?”
Max sighed, rubbing his hand over his face as Jake continued to insult Trowa’s character, Trowa began to cuss him out, Felicia laughed at it all, and Michael began chasing one of the little girls for her candy. He rose from his seat, and walked out from the room, needing space. Several of the nurses looked hassled as they argued over who had to go in and quiet everyone down.
When he saw a woman, round and gentle with long hair piled into a bun behind her, Max knew instinctively that this was Quatre’s auntie. No matter that she, too, was Native American and looked nothing like Quatre’s relation. It was just in the set of her face, and the way she sniffed. He immediately walked over to her, startling her before she reached the room.
“You might want to stay out of it for awhile,” he warned. “Everyone’s getting really angry in there.”
“About what?” she asked tiredly, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
“Someone let it slip that Quatre is...um...different.”
She rolled her eyes, sighing and shaking her head. “The Winner family...they act as if a person should only be accepted by society’s images and rules...I cannot deal with that, right now. I don’t want him dealing with their prejudices and hate. I will ask the nurses to keep those harpies away from him. Are you one of his friends?”
“I hope to be,” Max confessed. “I’m new. I haven’t been here a week, and...well...I would...like to get to know him. I mean...you know...”
She nodded, dabbing at her eyes again.
“You can go see him, then. He’s wide awake. Wanting to kick someone’s ass,” she said this with a sarcastic head bob, making Max laugh.
She waved him off, and walked off to get some coffee in order to gain strength to deal with these harpies. Max knew where Quatre’s room was, and headed off in that direction, growing nervous with each step. He fretted visibly, taking deep breaths and exhaling evenly. He’d managed to gain confidence to handle Felicia, but getting to know his other crush?
Well..that was an entirely different story...
“The Ex Factor” Lauren Hill
Max took a deep, steady breath as he blinked in the early morning light, following Trowa outside. He noticed that the taller boy was taking him away from the front doors, and around the corner, where the ambulances were parked. Ooh, boy–Trowa Barton was looking to kick his ass for his sensational thinking. And Max didn’t think he deserved it–after all, it wasn’t as if he were hurting anybody. He hadn’t quite told them both what he felt–the time hadn’t been quite right. But for Trowa to doubt that his intentions were less than honorable...well...
And, really, he wasn’t a stranger to fights, anyway. He was actually a pretty good fighter. In Yuma, for being mixed and for looking the way he did–well, most guys didn’t really like it, and taught him in their own ways, how to defend himself. Sure, he’d lose one here and there, but there wasn’t a person who’d tried that couldn’t say he couldn’t fight.
He knew where Trowa was taking this. He knew what Trowa was doing. And while he was more than extremely nervous that Trowa wanted to do so, he had a level of confidence that kept him from completely breaking down and blubbering like a pansy about it. So he took a deep breath and scored out an advantage point over the taller guy, looking for places that would enable him to get in clean hits and kicks without having him pinned because of the other boy’s longer reach.
Finally, Trowa led him to a spot where the corner of the building hid them away from the parking lot, and from the medics manning the ambulances nearby. It was a small alley that was formed from another building, which looked like a maintenance shop for the emergency vehicles that drove for the hospital. Max stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, breathing cold air as he faced Trowa, who was blocking his way from the way they’d come.
The taller boy, his eyeliner smudged and looking rather sad in his overall appearance, loomed over him with a menacing air.
“Now,” he began, his smooth bass tinged with barely controlled fury. “Tell me again about this situation you have going on with my ex...and his fucking friend.”
“Well,” Max began, albeit nervously. He really didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to cause any trouble! He just...well, he just felt things differently for two people, and he knew it was weird, but...maybe he shouldn’t have opened his big mouth. “Well...you see...when I first came to Darken, I...I wasn’t sure how things were going to work out, I mean–”
“I didn’t ask for that!” Trowa roared.
“I have feelings for them, both, and yes, it’s selfish and quite odd, but...I can’t...I can’t change what I feel. True, I don’t even know them, but I would love to,” Max stammered, fiddling with one of his earrings. “I would love to get to know them both in a way that would...really...”
“You think this is something of a sick kick for you, isn’t it?” Trowa asked, his voice dangerously low. He took a step forward, and Max dropped his hold on his earring, preparing himself to either strike or defend as Trowa continued. “You came in thinking that maybe you can play with one, and then go with the other when the first doesn’t work out...”
“No, I–”
“And, of course, you did it because those particular two hadn’t been given such attention before. Because everyone dislikes Quatre. Because everyone hates Felicia. No matter that they’re both pretty popular and really stand-offish–but what makes you think that you can come in and fuck all over him? I don’t fucking care what you do with her–I could give a shit about her. But what you do with him–”
“I KNOW, all right?” Max shot back. “I know what you feel! You still feel strongly for your ex! And I know that what I want is strange! And it can hurt! But–”
“But you’re still going to do it?”
“I...I...want to....I just...I can’t explain this any further,” Max trailed off, frowning. “I mean...I really like Felicia’s aggressiveness and she has a striking beauty about her that just...and Quatre, he’s really handsome and he has this playfulness about him that really makes one wonder if he’s serious or not...but...they’re both really interesting individuals, and...yes...I want them both. I want Felicia for the person she’s not showing to everyone, and I want Quatre for the individual that you obviously know and love...it’s a complicated issue...”
“You fucking bastard....You fucking dick! You fucking half-breed shit!” Trowa screamed at him. “You just can’t play with people’s feelings that way!”
“What do you know?” Max shouted back at him. “You’re the one pulling Sylvia around, and then lagging after Quatre! Who the hell are you to tell me I can’t do it when you’re the one obviously doing it yourself!”
“Quatre knows I still have feelings for him, and Sylvia, well, let’s just say things aren’t serious–”
“Then what the fuck makes you different from me, huh?” Max snarled, glaring at him.
Trowa retreated, obviously never thinking about that. Max realized he had him, and calmed himself, swallowing. Damn it...he needed his meds. Things were starting to get a little iffy right now. He stepped back from Trowa, feeling a cold sweat break out on his brow.
“I...I just...I don’t want him getting hurt...”
“How can a person learn to live if someone’s padding his every step?” Max asked.
Trowa frowned at him, looking extremely miffed. “I still don’t like what you’re doing.”
“I won’t say anything. But...I just...I feel that I need to be here. For...well, for her, really. I mean...I notice she’s more than blunt when it comes to thinking that she’s some sort of Wonder Woman...”
“Yeah...well...who cares about her? I just want Quatre to be okay...I just don’t want him sucked in this stupid game of yours...”
“That’s for him to decide.”
“It’s just not–!”
“That’s for him to decide!”
“I don’t like you, Sheridan. I don’t like you, and I don’t think I ever will. You’re just as sneaky as the motherfucker that–!” Trowa trailed off, remembering Jared and his confession. Suddenly, it was important that he call and tell someone what his roommate had said. Really, he wanted to beat the bastard’s head in with his damn boots, but–! This was the more mature way. He had to alert the responsible authorities to take charge of the situation. He turned away from Max, who breathed an audible sound of relief. Frowning in his direction, Trowa took out his cell phone, and called information for Ramos’ number. When the coach answered, rather sleepily but immediately alert, Trowa let him know what his roommate said, knowing that he, ultimately, would be the one getting into trouble.
Trowa knew, as he talked with Ramos, that it was because of him that Quatre was here at the hospital. His drugs, hidden within his room–he had to bet that Jared had found his stash and had used it. The bastard had used it. And for what? But that would come later. He had to talk to Quatre before his own actions took him away.
With a sigh of resignation, after hanging up with Ramos, Trowa stared at the ground. He looked at Max, who was watching him carefully, waiting for more words to be exchanged, or something else. Trowa looked away from him, walking back to the emergency care waiting room.
“Just don’t fucking hurt him. If you do...I’m going to kick your stupid ass,” he muttered.
Max smiled, following after him, relieved that they didn’t come to blows. “I won’t...I promise.”
Trowa grunted at that, not liking this at all, but...he might as well as accept things and get things over with. Because once Jared told the authorities that it was his stash he’d used to drug Quatre, then Trowa had a feeling he was going away for a very long time. Especially since he was eighteen; legally an adult, so he’d be tried as an adult. He sighed heavily, shaking his head, feeling very old–and needing a hit.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Felicia looked up when Quatre started to stir, sleepily grumbling about feeling sick. With an amused smile, she shifted in her seat, leaning over his bed so that she could rest her elbows atop the mattress. She smoothed his hair from his face, making a face at the clammy skin she felt. When he finally opened his eyes, looking at her in confusion, she smiled.
“Oh, fuck me,” he muttered, looking obscenely troubled. “What’d I do?”
“You mean, what’d we do?”
“...What?”
“You don’t remember? We went to a party, got drunk, and here we are, in bed together!”
Quatre opened his eyes, looking around the room. With confusion plain on his face, he looked at her. She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Sorry. You’re not. Quatre, something shitty happened. You fuckin’ overdosed at the game last night.”
“...What?”
“Listen. Just listen. You had shit in your socks–Double G. You absorbed the drug, and...it was too much for your system. Especially when you hadn’t been doin’ shit...” she trailed off, looking at him pointedly.
In numb confusion, he shook his head to indicate that he hadn’t. With a smile of relief, she continued. “And so, you overdosed. Compared to some users, and for your...I dunno...first time, you took a dosage that equaled a few hits. That’s too much. You basically stopped your entire system during that game. Playin’ helped out, too. It sped up the high. Quat, how long did you feel sick?”
“I...I don’t...for a couple of days, I guess. I mean...I was feeling it yesterday–where am I?”
“Grand Junction Memorial. There’s some cops and stuff that wanna talk to you. But...I never believed that you would do that shit. You fuckin’ hated when Trowa did it...”
“I know! I...I...how could this have happened? Felicia, I don’t–I never took anything from anybody!”
“I know, babe, I know. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t do that. It was in your sock. You absorbed it that way. Someone did this with the intention of making you drugged, or...something...” she trailed off, reaching over to straighten the i.v. line that was curled over his shoulder. “So...tell them what you know. You won’t get into trouble, Quat. It’s not your fault. Some motherfucker did this to hurt you. Intentionally. And Ramos knows that some shits were threatening you, so he made that suggestion. So...you’re in the clear, Quat. You did nothing wrong...”
Quatre stared off at the back wall of the room, quietly thinking over what she was telling him. Felicia, feeling very relieved that things were going to be fine, lowered her head against his arm, exhaling with relief. She’d been so scared–! And to think, someone had done this with the intention of malicious and cruel purpose! She wanted to maim and kill...but her first instinct had been to stay at his side. She didn’t want to admit that she’d been crying earlier–how embarrassing. He’d never let her hear the end of it. She rubbed his arm soothingly, marveling over the strength it had, and the way it felt under her hand.
She looked at him again, catching his sullen stare. She reached over to smooth his sideburns behind his ear, the touch more maternal and friendly than anything else. She just wanted to make sure he was going to be fine...that was all...
“You scared me, asshole,” she said, straightening from the bed. But she curled her fingers through his, in a gesture meant to comfort herself. “Doing that....dude, you basically died in the girls’ locker room. What’s with you and all this drama?”
“Hey...shut it. How was I supposed to know someone did this to me?” he grumbled, but she received a squeeze of his fingers through hers. The gesture was comforting. “Fuck...who won?”
She laughed, pulling her hand away. “We did. At least, that’s what Ramos said. He left when you did on the ambulance. It was awesome. I think I’m going to drive one one day. The guy was hot.”
“Was he? And you were there?”
“Hyep. I wasn’t going to let my best buddy o’ gayness get away from me. By the way, you had a lot of people here, last night, Quat. The team...Drake, Go, Jake Trip, Justin, some guys from Balkin, some guys from Roseville, some from fuckin’ Ferndale...even Jamie and Ian were here for a little while. The chingy-Changs, some fans...dude, even Sylvia and Trowa. Of course, Trowa.”
Quatre looked at her sharply. “Trowa was here?”
“He still is, actually. Wanna see him before I rouse the coppers? I think he’s still downstairs. OH!” she then breathed, clutching his arm. “And Max, too...You’re so fuckin’ lucky! His hotness will cure all ills!”
“What?”
“Yeah! They stayed here all night! And...I guess Sylvia’s okay...I mean...y’know? She ain’t that bad.”
Quatre stared at her for a few moments, then broke into a slight grin. “Whatever. You hate her guts.”
“It’s a girl thing,” Felicia murmured, grinning back. She patted his arm. “I’ll go get the goth-man. You stay here and try and look all pretty. Oh, and Ramos contacted your aunt and uncle–they were on the first flight over here. I don’t know when that was. So, they’re comin’, ‘k? After that...I’m headin’ home. Stayin’ with you sucks ass.”
“You stayed with me all night?”
“You know it. You’re my best friend, Quatre,” she added, rather softy, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable for a second. “I just...I couldn’t go knowing....that you...okayI’mgoingnow. Bye!”
She was out the door before he could try and make fun of her for nearly crying. But then...he felt touched. And wondrous. Wow...she was human...
But not only that, Trowa was here? While confusion and bewilderment still racked him as that someone had did this to him purposely, evoking late images of the obituary and the notes and chocolate, he had to admit that thinking that Trowa was here for him made him feel good. And to know that he had so many friends that were concerned for him. It was a little embarrassing, rather. To know that all those people came here because he’d almost–well....because he’d almost died. It was a very strange feeling to know that he wouldn’t have been here right now, if not for the efforts of the hospital staff and the paramedics. He couldn’t remember much of last night–just thinking of Ramos and how angry he probably was when he’d thrown up on his shoes.
Well...even then...to know that so many people were here for him...it was a good feeling. A very good feeling...
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Felicia sniffed and tried to compose herself as she took the long hallway down to the waiting room, where she was sure the other two were. Hoping that she just looked sleepy rather than like she was crying, she peeked into the room. The plainclothes was waiting there, but he was watching tv, sipping a cup of coffee. Not wanting to alert him, she saw Trowa and Max sitting nearby, and dropped to the floor. She crawled over to them, keeping out of sight from the plainclothes, and popped up between them. They gave surprised looks, but she slapped a hand over Trowa’s mouth, and indicated with a thumb behind her. Trowa nodded after shaking off her hand, and slipped off after a glance in the cop’s direction. Max frowned at her, and rose from his chair, pulling her with him.
When they walked out, Trowa making his way to Quatre’s room, she said, “Well, it looks like he’s gonna do fine. Y’know? All cured. He should be leaving by tonight, or something.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah...I ain’t the one all holed up on the bed.”
“You know, it’s really admirable that you’re so devoted to him,” Max said, shrugging off his jacket. He placed it around her shoulders, and she gave him a disgusted look at the act of chivalry. He merely smiled, and chuckled. “Just wear it. You look cold.”
“I’m not some kind of stupid weak chick that–!”
“No, you’re not,” he said, smoothing her ponytail with his hand. “But you’re human. And you’re exhausted. And you need someone to take care of you after you’ve been taking care of someone else...”
“Ugh...watch Lifetime much? I don’t do this sort of stupid crap–!”
“Just wear it. So you can sneak out. That uniform’s really bright.”
“Heh. I can land space shuttles with this thing alone,” she agreed with a shaky chuckle. Actually...with his jacket around her, smelling of him, and his presence....damn it. Must be strong! Must not channel Lifetime!
“But I don’t need it–”
“Wear it, or I’m going to tell everyone that you tried to rape me in the bathroom over there. And that you’re actually a man.”
She gave him a disgusted expression, and he pushed her into the elevator. “You sick motherf–”
“Look...you’re tired...hungry...and presumably yearning for a shower. All you chicks are like that,” he said, smiling at her. “I can give you a ride to Darken, and you can do all that, and come back here by twelve.”
“Really? I mean...it’s like...you can stay. I find a ride back,” she said, giving up on the battle over the jacket. It actually felt very warm, and his scent...wow. It was making her all calm and sleepy-like.
“Trowa’s taking care of him right now. And I have a feeling that’s what they both need. And you need me more.”
“Arrogant much? I don’t need anybody!”
“You say that, Felicia Ann, but that’s really untrue.”
“How...how did you know my middle name?”
“You’re only in the tabloids every week, chick.”
“Oh...duh. I’m tired. I can’t think straight.”
“I know,” he said as they walked out from the elevator. Without warning, his arm was around her shoulders, pulling her in close for a kiss on the forehead. The move was really startling and sudden, and she was practically numb that it happened. “I’ll take care of you. Just let it happen, and I won’t tell anyone. Deal?”
“Whatever...”
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Trowa walked into the room, Quatre spotting him instantly. For a second, Trowa wasn’t sure what to say as he walked over, feeling entirely guilty for the whole thing. Quatre stared at him, feeling a little sheepish in his own way as Trowa came to a stop by his bedside. For a few long moments, neither could say anything. Then, Trowa reached down to touch his shoulder, his fingers curling slightly over the muscle. He found himself sniffing, then losing it as his face crumbled, tears leaking from his eyes.
Quatre immediately tried to sit up, reaching out to him questioningly. Trowa pressed his face against his neck, hugging him awkwardly in their positions. Automatically seeking to comfort, Quatre hugged him back, running his hands through the goth’s hair as the other’s shoulders shook.
“I’m so fucking sorry!” he heard Trowa sob into his neck. “I was the cause of all this! I...I did it all!”
Quatre stilled, wondering how in the world that could be when Trowa pulled away, wiping his eyes. This smeared his make-up, but neither cared as Quatre looked at him with a questioning expression.
“The drugs...all of it. I mean...I know who did this, but...I basically supplied him. I...I basically did this to you,” Trowa said, sniffling.
“I...what do you mean? I don’t...”
“Last night...I had this really bad feeling. It was...it was a really bad feeling, and I knew it was you, and... man. Everyone was just running around, crying that you were dead. And all I could do was just wonder what they were on. It was just...unreal. I know you didn’t do drugs, and...then fuckin’ Jared was telling me he didn’t mean to kill you. He only wanted to make you pay! Whatever the fuck that meant....”
Quatre stared at him in silence, blinking ever so often. For Trowa to display his feelings like this...well...that had always been hard for him to handle. Trowa was just so unemotional, indifferent to those that didn’t know him. And for people like him, people that really knew him...well...it was different. Much different. He reached out, wiping the goth’s tears with his own fingers. He still didn’t understand, but Trowa said something about Jared...he stilled with the action, sucking in a deep breath, murder plain on his face.
Trowa had to snort and bark out some laughter as he had to haul Quatre’s hospital gown ass back into the bed, the monitors all shrieking furiously from the lack of contact they had when the boy ripped off the electronics.
“That FUCKER!” he shouted furiously, Trowa trying to untangle the lines that were still attached to him. Bed sheets flew as Quatre kicked and raged furiously atop the bed. “I can’t believe this fucking bullshit! WHY? WHY THE FUCK?”
“I don’t know, love, calm down,” Trowa said, trying to hush him as he wiped his eyes.
A nurse hurried in, eyeing them both suspiciously as she looked at the mess, having heard the shouts.
“You need to get out of here,” she snapped at him, replacing the heart monitor device, and glaring at Quatre. “You need to calm down.”
Trowa shook his head, not wanting to go, but the nurse looked ready to perform some kung fu if he didn’t get moving. He brushed by her, gripping Quatre’s head between his two hands, and kissed him fiercely.
“I still love you. I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry,” he apologized, hurrying away when the nurse’s eyes widened at the display.
Quatre stared after him, refusing to believe that it was Trowa’s fault. No...no it was all Jared’s fault... that little creep! He’d better pray he was behind juvie bars when Quatre got out of here! Because if he wasn’t...
He cracked his knuckles furiously, growling as he thought of the many various ways in which he could kill that boy with those stupid glasses of his...
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Sylvia was still more than numb when she reached Darken’s campus. As she pulled into the garage, she sighed, feeling slightly ill from it all. She recognized that Trowa still had feelings for Quatre. That had been painfully obvious from the start. She knew this. She knew this from the start that Trowa still had feelings for him, and no matter who they were with, no matter what, they were going to still have feelings for each other. She was right–she couldn’t hope to understand what they had because she hadn’t experienced it. She hadn’t seen it for herself, hadn’t experienced it for herself. She had no right to come in and claim that they should be feeling this and that just because of that and this.
It wasn’t right, granted, that they continued to do this to each other and to those that cared for them, wanting to be a part of them. But...she had a feeling that although they were on the road to fixing things between each other and between themselves, there wasn’t going to be much room for those lingering on the sidewalk.
Which meant...her time with Trowa was limited, right now. Once Quatre realized that he wanted back with Trowa, that was it. She would lose him. And she would be the one looking at them from the outside, yearning for what they had with each other.
She sighed again, getting out from the car. Making her way to the dormitory, she had to admit, what they had was pretty neat. Too deep for high school, but truly and unmistakably grounded. Even if they continued to stay separated, their maturing developments and feelings were a foundation for something impossibly stronger and bigger in the future.
Which only made her more determine to enjoy what time she had with Trowa now, because once they both realized that, she wouldn’t have the chance again.
Which is why she would continue to stand beside the goth when he needed to rush to Quatre’s side. She was going to take this in a purely different perspective when it came down to something like this.
She won’t hold Trowa back–that end result would land her in the cold, tossed aside because Trowa didn’t want to deal with her anymore. She didn’t want that. She wanted his respect and his own form of admiration for her. So...she was going to be understanding and caring, and try, above all else, to keep her head up.
Man...she’d make a good wife someday...
She laughed at herself, a bark of sound that sounded strained to her. She walked into the dormitory building, realizing that since it was Saturday, classes were still in session. She hurried up to Trowa’s room, and saw the yellow tape clinging to the door, along with a posted sign that no one was to be admitted. That it was under investigation.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, heart racing, wondering that if, for some reason, Trowa’s drugs were discovered and the goth was heading into jail. But who would snitch? Who would snitch on Trowa?
She turned and hurried to her room. Her roommate had left a note on the bed, and she read it quickly, eyes widening with surprise and complete shock.
She groped the night stand drawer for her cellphone, and dialed Trowa’s number.
Upon hearing him, she could have laughed in relief. “Trowa! Guess what? I just tried to get into your room, and...shit! Jared was arrested!”
“I...I know...Um...are they looking for me?”
“No! Barbara, my roommate–she left a note. Jared confessed that he was the one that had threatened Quatre in the past, that he obtained drugs through his own...can’t read that word. But...nothing about you...”
“He’s my roommate, Sylvia.”
“I know, but–! There’s nothing about you, here. Trowa, listen to me. Don’t say anything to anybody, not unless they fucking question you about it directly,” she said. “Don’t lie, don’t make up any stories...”
“Jared stole from my stash, Sylvia! From mine! They’re going to know that I supplied it!”
“NO! It just said that Jared–look. I’ll talk to Lindy, all right. She’ll give me the full story. Just...how is he?”
“...Fine...Sylvia...I’m really sorry. I just...”
“Trowa, it’s all right,” she said softly, shoulders slumping. “I...I understand. It’s all right. You don’t have to make excuses, you don’t have to say anything. Just...be there for him. And for yourself. And I’ll come out with something later, okay? I’m going to take a shower and all that, and I should be out there by two. All right?”
“...Sylvia...thanks. I can’t thank you enough–”
“Just go to the dance with me next week. That’ll be thanks enough,” she said with a chuckle, already having the outfit she wanted him to wear.
“...Whatever.”
“Don’t ‘whatever’ me. Just...it’s all right. By two, okay? And I’ll call you after I talk to Lindy.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay...bye-bye...”
Sylvia hung up the phone, sighing as she surveyed her room. Great. Might as well as tie him off with a bow tie and address a To: and From: card from her to Quatre.
“Don’t fuck things up,” she muttered, and wasn’t sure whom it was addressed to.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
When Max and Felicia arrived, the waiting room was filled once more with people looking to visit Quatre and/or support him. She was surprised, looking at all the familiar faces and many unfamiliar ones. Beside her, Max raised his eyebrows, touching her elbow to prod her to continue on. She wanted to throw a fit because he was touching her so much. Touching her hand, touching her hair, touching her shoulder, touching her elbow–! He was driving her crazy with his touches!! Mainly because they were really pleasant. And she felt good about it. And she had a rule about boys making her feel good on terms like these...she just couldn’t remember it right now.
“Hey,” she greeted Trowa, seeing that the boy looked utterly exhausted.
She wondered where Sylvia was, and reached into her bag for some cigarettes. He took them gratefully. She supplied him with a lighter, and watched him walk out. She looked back around the room, noting that the unfamiliar faces were...pretty new. She didn’t know any of them. But they looked vaguely familiar. She gnashed her teeth when she felt Max’s hands on her hips, his breath against her ear.
“Sit down. You’re making everyone tense.”
“Stop bossin’ me around,” she muttered, waving a hand in his general direction. She took a seat next to Jake, who smirked at her as Michael was entertained by a portable movie player. With Nemo, of course.
“Who’s the guy?” he asked, looking up at Max as he was suddenly assaulted by a woman years older than him. She waved the question off.
“Did you talk to him?”
“No. Actually, I hadn’t had a chance to. Mike and I just got here. His family has been in there all day.”
“He has family? Can demons have families?”
“You have one. Who’s the guy?”
“Never MIND. Who’s who?”
Jake pointed at each woman in turn, all of whom were occasionally sniffing and talking low to each other. “Fatima, Amaya. Gloria–her partner Miranda. Sanaya. Shasha and her daughters, Andrea and Annissa. Tobey. Frannie. Mickey. Carrie. And Claudia, with her daughter, Tenile. Want their ages and phone numbers?”
“Blow yourself!”
Michael looked up, and told her, “Suck dick and die, bitch!”
“Michael!”
“God, your kid’s so fu–potty mouthed, man. Go to those Mommie and Me classes and get him all straightened out. Shit.”
“Who’s the guy?”
“Will you SHUT up about HIM?”
“Dude,” Drake interrupted, leaning over, giving her a questionable expression. “What’s with the getup?”
Felicia raised her eyebrows. She looked down at the strapless spring dress underneath a blazer, then looked at him questioningly, blushing as she realized she’d dressed this way with Max in mind. “Oh, so you’re talking to me, now?”
“Man...fuck. I was just asking.”
“Fuck. You stopped talking to me because I began playin’, then you wanna know what the fuck is up with my outfit?”
“I was just askin’! Shit! I didn’t come here to start shit with ya!”
“Well, blow it out your fuckin’ ass! As far as I’m concerned, you’ve been nothin’ but dick to me!”
“An’ you ain’t nothin’ but a motherfuckin’ hypocrite, you fuckin’ apple!”
“Fuck you!”
“I’m going to spank you both and put you in time-out if you both don’t shut up,” Jake threatened, giving them glares. The pair turned away from each other while Michael gave his father an impressed smile.
Felicia huffed, frowning as she looked at the other people that she knew. Justin, of course, who was talking on his cell, and decked out in his lettermen’s and some jeans...some kids from Darken...some guys from various parties...not as many as those that had come last night, but enough to assure her that her best friend was still on their minds, his welfare being the utmost concern to them all.
Max walked over to her, a little scared as the woman tried to follow him.
“Well...how is he?” he asked as he took a seat next to her.
“I dunno. Good, I guess...Jake said just his family’s been in there.”
“Wow...big family.”
“Yeah.” She turned back to Jake. “I thought you worked, today. And Celia got him?”
“It’s Saturday, numb nut. The whore’s–excuse me, his mother’s out recovering somewhere. And I do have to work, but I took a few hours off to see how the asshole’s doing. Mike’s very concerned for him,” he added, looking down at his son.
Michael sensed that they were talking about him, and turned to look at her. “Uncle’s sick? He took a lot of drugs?”
“He didn’t. Someone just made him very sick.”
“But I heard Drake and that guy saying that another guy made him take drugs, and he got all sick.”
Drake looked affronted that he was mentioned, and hissed, “Traitor!” to him.
“You shouldn’t listen to blue haired people,” Felicia scolded. “They’re all fucked up in the head.”
“Hey!”
“Don’t cuss, please,” Jake said on a sigh.
“Daddy! I wanna see him, now!”
“You can’t. His auntie and uncle are in there.”
“Kick them out.”
“I can’t do that...they have a right to be in there...”
“So? I have a right to be there...”
Felicia laughed at Michael’s words, and ruffled his hair. “You’re okay, kid.”
“Ew. Whore germs...”
“MIKE!”
“Ouch, but damn am I proud that a four year old knows my rep!”
“You’re not a whore,” Max corrected, patting her knee. “You’re misunderstood.”
“Who’s the–?”
“SHUT IT!”
When Rashid walked into the room, everyone silenced, the family members rising to their feet in question. Now that she thought about it, a majority of these women looked eerily like Quatre. Felicia looked at them curiously as the tall man took his place beside one of them, sighing with exhaustion.
“He’s going to be fine,” he said, his voice deep and rather commanding. “An investigation is going to be carried out, and a suspect has already been taken into custody. He’ll be released tonight.”
“This is fucking ridiculous!” one of the women, Sasha, cursed. “Who does this sort of thing in high schools? I thought this academy screened drug users from their grounds!”
“It isn’t that simple, Sasha,” Rashid said, trying to calm her. “When one truly wants something, they’re going to sneak it in...and it was a malicious act, a serious one–”
“He could have DIED!” she about bellowed, her daughters looking embarrassed as they tried to tell her to lower her voice.
“But he didn’t. And he is doing fine. The culprit has been arrested. The school is cracking down on the supplier, and the other users, which...” he trailed off as several of the kids hastily exited the room, Drake included. Felicia tried to pretend that she was too interested in Michael’s movie to realize what was being said. If this was true, there was no doubt in her mind she was going to be busted as well.
“Uh...”
“But he is fine?” Amaya asked, purple lips pulled back with a grimace. “I mean...he’s going to be released, so...there isn’t, like, damaging aftereffects?”
“No. Fortunately, no. Lana is taking her time...the nurse is going to allow visitors three at a time. When she comes back, is it all right if family goes first?” he asked, looking at the other various people that nodded and murmured their own agreements.
Jake slapped his hand over Felicia’s mouth as she started to protest.
“Ow...”
“I...really want to thank you for...for being here for him,” Rashid then continued, turning to face the various faces of Quatre’s friends and rivals. “I...I was surprised that so many people turned out. I know how my boy is...legally, he’s my nephew, but I have raised him as if he were my own son. And I know how he is, and it’s just surprising that...he’s made such an impact on all of you. Enough for you to take time off work, and your busy schedules...just to come and see him. I’m sure he’s quite pleased that you’re here...”
“Damn well better be,” someone muttered, but he was quickly silenced.
“Jigga,” Felicia snickered, ignoring the stares from the blond’s family.
“I just...want to thank you. He’s very happy here, very content, and he...I’m sure he’ll miss it when he comes back to Laramie this summer.”
A great silence descended over the entire group as the words sunk in. Felicia sunk low in her seat, hating that the idea was so final. Thus, the reason for her wanting to drop out.
“He’s moving back there?” #21 from Roseville asked. “Is that even on a map?”
“I don’t even know where Wyoming is,” Jake snorted.
“Why can’t he stay?” Justin asked, his face screwed up with uncertainty. “There’s plenty of people here that will let him live with them...”
“You’ll let him life with ya, J?” Felicia asked, turning in her seat while Max tried to keep her dress from flapping upwards.
“NO. I was just saying...”
Amid the quiet laughter and mocking words directed at Justin, Rashid smiled, and shook his head.
“No. It is a matter of financial discretion...even with a scholarship allowing him to stay, we...my wife and I...cannot provide any much more for living expenses and for the cost of his attendance. We are...middle class and unable to make nearly a third of what your parents must be,” he added, a little bitterly.
“Don’t he have a rich daddy?” a black student asked, from where he was sitting with Justin.
“His father and...uh, Quatre are not on speaking terms. Legally, Lana and I are granted to take care of him until his father...sorts out his own qualms.”
“So...he ain’t coming back for next year?” the same student asked, frowning.
Murmurs started as many of them fully disagreed with this idea. Felicia pouted about it, giving Max a glare when the boy reached out to flick her hair from her shoulders. Jake started to ask once more when Rashid cleared his throat.
“I...concerning this situation, I was convinced to take him back home with us, immediately. But...since the culprit has been apprehended...my wife convinced me to keep him here for the rest of the year. But...he will not return. And it just really...makes me feel so happy that he’s...obviously in good hands with the lot of you. That...that you take him as he is.”
“Get his ex in here. He needs to hear that!” someone muttered, and the blonds on the other side of the room looked up sharply. “Or...oops...did ya’ll know that?”
Rashid turned a faint color, having never bothered mentioning that little fact to the women gathered here.
“Rashid?” Gloria asked, looking at him. “What was that?”
“Ya’ll didn’t know he was gay?” someone hissed from the back, the others shooting him mean looks.
“He’s ‘gay’?” Sasha repeated, in disgust. Gloria immediately turned toward her.
“You have a problem with that, sis?”
“I still have a problem with you and her!”
“‘Her’ has a name, and it’s Miranda!”
“Death to lesbians,” Felicia muttered, Jake and Max slapping their hands over her mouth.
“Rashid, how come you didn’t tell us Quatre is gay?” Fatima asked, her dark features scowling as she stared at her uncle.
“Uh...well...that’s his decision, it’s his–”
“We’re his family! We deserve the right to know!” Sanaya growled.
“There should be no problem with him being gay!” Gloria shouted, angrily regarding her sisters with a furious expressions. Her partner meekly sat in her chair, refusing to look up as voices began to rise.
When Trowa walked in, most of the women were shouting at each other, girls were crying, and Michael was happily repeating all the bad things he could pick up. Generally, the room was in chaos. He blinked, wondering what had happened as several kids hurriedly left the room in a smatter of giggles and whispers.
Felicia leaned back in her chair, hands behind her head.
“They just found out Quat’s homo,” she reported. “You might wanna scram before someone says you’re the ex. They’re rarin’ to castrate something...”
“They were talking about me?”
“You’re asshole’s ex?” Jake asked, looking at the goth once more. “Ha! You guys don’t even look like you should be together!”
“...what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Who the fuck are you?”
“Trowa gets reallllly grumpy when people insult his eyeliner, Jake. Leave him alone.”
“No, seriously! I can’t see those two together!”
“Why don’t you just take your kid and fuck off?”
Max sighed, rubbing his hand over his face as Jake continued to insult Trowa’s character, Trowa began to cuss him out, Felicia laughed at it all, and Michael began chasing one of the little girls for her candy. He rose from his seat, and walked out from the room, needing space. Several of the nurses looked hassled as they argued over who had to go in and quiet everyone down.
When he saw a woman, round and gentle with long hair piled into a bun behind her, Max knew instinctively that this was Quatre’s auntie. No matter that she, too, was Native American and looked nothing like Quatre’s relation. It was just in the set of her face, and the way she sniffed. He immediately walked over to her, startling her before she reached the room.
“You might want to stay out of it for awhile,” he warned. “Everyone’s getting really angry in there.”
“About what?” she asked tiredly, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
“Someone let it slip that Quatre is...um...different.”
She rolled her eyes, sighing and shaking her head. “The Winner family...they act as if a person should only be accepted by society’s images and rules...I cannot deal with that, right now. I don’t want him dealing with their prejudices and hate. I will ask the nurses to keep those harpies away from him. Are you one of his friends?”
“I hope to be,” Max confessed. “I’m new. I haven’t been here a week, and...well...I would...like to get to know him. I mean...you know...”
She nodded, dabbing at her eyes again.
“You can go see him, then. He’s wide awake. Wanting to kick someone’s ass,” she said this with a sarcastic head bob, making Max laugh.
She waved him off, and walked off to get some coffee in order to gain strength to deal with these harpies. Max knew where Quatre’s room was, and headed off in that direction, growing nervous with each step. He fretted visibly, taking deep breaths and exhaling evenly. He’d managed to gain confidence to handle Felicia, but getting to know his other crush?
Well..that was an entirely different story...