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"Baby Series 3"Written By: Karina Rating: PG Spoilers: None Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing or the Characters from the series but the baby is mine. Pairing:Quatre + Trowa Notes: Challenge 138. Baby Series 3 #185. Takes
place after Fear. Many thanks to ShenLong for her work betaing
this fic.
Sorry "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I'm sorry." It sounded like a litany flowing from him, Trowa responding by holding him and whispering to him every time he began it over again. `I'm sorry… sorry for killing you… sorry for being such a pain… sorry for being so much less than he deserved…' "Stop it, Quatre." "I don't mean to be so high maintenance. I'm trying, really I am. I'm sorry for bringing you down with me." His back hit the mattress and he stared up into vibrant green eyes. Trowa's hair was a mess, his own could have been no better, but Trowa looked incredibly sexy in that state of disarray. Hair spiked in all directions, face pale in the poor light, a dark smear of deep red across his shoulders… Red? Blood! He was bleeding? Trowa was bleeding?! He had hurt his lover. Despite all of his promises he had, once again, hurt his lover! "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Trowa, where…? What did I do? Let me see! I'm sorry, so sorry!" Hands locked around his wrists and forced his arms to the bed, his hands above his head and Trowa's long legs wrapped around his hips, sitting back and locking his thighs, forcing his legs still. Trowa's weight held him and the intense green eyes bored into him, their intensity gradually forcing him to still. "It's not my blood. You will be still and let me fix your hands." "Not… your blood?" "I'm going to have to have your manicurist shorten your fingernails." Only then did he feel the stinging in his palms and know he had, at some point, clenched his fists tightly enough to dig his fingernails into his palms. "I'm sorry." "I've seen you in many colours I like, but let me tell you, cerise is not one of them, especially when the blood on you is yours. Now, will you stay still? Just lie there and let me get the first aid kit." "Yes." He sounded wimpish to his own ears, but the thunder that was his own heartbeat was calming under that emerald gaze, and Trowa trusted him enough to climb off the bed and not look back as he went for the first aid kit. Slowly Quatre curled into the foetal position, curling himself into a ball as tightly as he could. He could not, above all, allow Trowa to know Zero still haunted him. He wasn't insane and it wasn't a nightmare, but no one would believe him. He opened his hands, staring at the deep red streaking his palms and fingers. Not good. Not good at all, but at least the series of half moons where his fingernails had bitten into flesh would heal quickly. "I have to do better." "We have to do better." Trowa joined him on the bed and gently took one of his hands, kissing the blood streaked palm. "We, Quatre, not just you." "I'm sorry." "I know. So am I."
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