[Room 372]

[mr_gaeta]

[After this.]

"Okay," says Gaeta -- out of breath, as always, from the climb up the stairs -- as he shoulders open the door. The bird immediately weaves around him and darts in, plocking happily at its return to its new nest.

Once it became obvious that Gaeta would be a permanent resident, Bar kindly supplied a few additions and expansions to his room: a kitchenette, a couch and TV, a small bookshelf, a wooden partition to separate his bed from everything else. It looks more like a studio apartment now than the hotel atmosphere of most Milliways rooms.

Stepping aside as best he's able, he holds the door so Louis can come in.

Comments

[faithful_lt]

"Can't think what it'd be," he observes, and manages a small smile in return as he makes his way over to the side of Felix's bed.

"At least not until I get some shuteye. Maybe then my brain'll start working properly."

Hoshi hesitates only for a moment longer before sitting on the edge of the bed and beginning to unfasten his boots.

[mr_gaeta]

"Hope springs eternal," says Gaeta, lightly.

He watches Louis take a seat, keeps watching as he bends down to take off his boots. It's hard not to give into the instinct: to cross to him, give him a quick kiss goodnight as if nothing happened.

He can't force that on him.

A little softer, he adds, "Sleep well, all right?"

[faithful_lt]

"Out like a light," he promises.

Hoshi folds his duty jacket and lays it neatly over the top of his boots, then stretches out on one side of the bed and closes his eyes.

[mr_gaeta]

True to his word, Louis' breathing evens out to deep sleep within minutes. In the end, it's the grumbling in Gaeta's leg that finally pulls him away; when he turns, wincing a little, he finds the bird standing behind him with its head cocked in obvious curiosity.

"Plock?" it asks.

"Good bird," is all he murmurs, leaning down (with great care) to give it a pat on the head. He moves on to the kitchen; after casting a glance back toward the bed, pondering this new companion of its nestmate's, the bird gives an avian shrug and trots after Gaeta.

[faithful_lt]

One thing about sleep is that it wipes the cares and worries away, for a while.

Relaxed and unconscious, Hoshi has no way of knowing how much younger he looks, or how much at peace.

Too far down in the depths to dream, he nevertheless makes a small sound as he shifts his weight, turning onto his side and facing out toward the room as though he were in his own rack on Galactica.

[mr_gaeta]

The change startles Gaeta so much that when he finally returns, he has to stop a good five feet away from the bed, trying not to stare.

Louis looks like he did when they first met. Like all the times Gaeta crept into his rack to sleep next to him, or when they curled up in another Milliways room to form their own respite from Galactica. He should take the couch, he thinks. He doesn't want to disturb this.

He's disturbed enough.

But eventually, he circles to the other side of the bed and eases himself down, as slow as possible. Glancing over his shoulder at Louis, he silently busies himself with putting his crutches aside.

[faithful_lt]

It doesn't appear to disturb him; Hoshi's too deeply asleep to wake easily.

[mr_gaeta]

Good.

He starts to strip down to his undershirt, quickly rethinks, and settles for only taking off his shoe and sock instead. Leaving a good foot and a half of space between himself and Louis, he crawls into bed, putting his back to him before he shuts his eyes.

And opens them again to stare at the wall. Sighing, he tries again, with just as little success.

It takes a good forty-five minutes before he can push himself into sleep.




Thirty minutes after that, the whimpering starts.

[faithful_lt]

He murmurs something unintelligible in his slumber and rolls onto his back, then to his other side.

His hand settles flat against the other man's back, light as a butterfly's touch.

"shhh. 's okay."

[mr_gaeta]

He subsides, briefly. One hand tightens and releases on the pillow.

And then the ragged noises of pain pick up again as Gaeta curls inward, his breathing harsh and rapid.

[faithful_lt]

He mutters something else, but it's more reflex than anything else.

Exhaustion has dulled Louis Hoshi's edge, awake or asleep.

[mr_gaeta]

It's too cold. It's too godsdamn cold in here --

Only dimly roused out of the nightmare, Gaeta rolls over, feeling something warmer not too far away. Desperately, he pushes toward it.

(Toward Louis.)

[faithful_lt]

He makes another indistinct sound and puts his arm around Felix, drawing him near in slumber.

[mr_gaeta]

(In his dream, he feels strong arms cradling him, lifting him away from the Raptor's floor. They are the most solid thing he's ever felt; when they pull him closer, the blood and the cold vanishes as if a heavy blanket's dropped over the scene.

I've got you, baby, memory whispers. It's okay.)

Gaeta's still breathing a little too rapidly, but he wraps his arm around his rescuer and tucks his head close, letting the warmth seep into him.

At the foot of the bed, there's a scratchy, creaky noise as the bird -- hearing Gaeta's distress from the other side of the room -- uses beak and talons to haul itself up the side of the bedframe. Once it hits the mattress, it ruffles its feathers and eyes the two men.

Everything okay? Good, everything's okay! Satisfied, it plonks itself down at Gaeta's foot in case any new emergencies arise.

[faithful_lt]

Awareness returns slowly.




It takes him a few minutes to realize that he's not dreaming, that he's not alone; that his unconscious mind has betrayed him as surely as the man he loves did -- and that he's holding on, and being held in turn.

He studies Felix's sleeping figure in silence, carefully memorizing his features, feeling his heart crack in pieces within him yet again.

(It looks like things won't be getting easier any time soon.)




It's five full minutes before he starts trying to ease himself out of their tangled embrace without waking Felix.

[mr_gaeta]

The Fleet trained him to sleep light and rouse quickly: only a few seconds after Louis starts to move, Gaeta's eyes blink open. He squints, muzzily unsure.

And then -- "Oh, frak." -- he realizes what happened sometime during the night, and hurriedly pushes away in kind. "Frak, I'm sorry -- "

[faithful_lt]

"Nothing to be sorry for," he cuts in, and could kick himself the instant he hears the words he's inadvertently chosen.

"I mean - don't worry about it."

[mr_gaeta]

The correction makes him swallow back anything more he'd been intending to say. Gaeta nods, breathes out, looks away as he finishes putting the last couple inches of space between them.

At the foot of the bed, the bird untucks its head from beneath the too-small cover of one wing, blinking up at the two of them.

[faithful_lt]

He sits up in bed, scooting back against the headboard, knees slightly bent and feet braced flat against the mattress.

Hoshi scrubs a hand over his face, then lets it drop, and looks down at the bird.

"Looks like we've got company."

[mr_gaeta]

He musters up a wan smile, still not quite looking Louis' way. "Yeah," he says. "It's got a habit of climbing up here in the middle of the night."

With a small plock, the bird pushes itself up and waddles closer.

[faithful_lt]

"So I see." He raises his voice, just a little. "Hi, bird -- "

Hoshi turns to look at Felix.

"-- have you thought about a name for it?"

[mr_gaeta]

Gaeta shakes his head. Rueful, "Not yet."

The bird pushes its beak against Gaeta's shoulder, eliciting a firmer smile. He scratches its neck in return.

"I'm, ah. I'm sure I'll think of something, eventually."

[faithful_lt]

Rueful amusement tinges his voice.

"Looks like you'll need to, because from where I'm sitting, your new feathered friend isn't going anywhere."

[mr_gaeta]

He laughs a little. "Lucky me."

There's nothing sardonic about the way he says it: after that first night when it woke him up mid-nightmare, he does count himself lucky to have the company.

[faithful_lt]

He shoots Felix a quick sideways look just to be sure, but on seeing his expression the tension that had raced through him vanishes as quickly as it had come.

"Not the kind of bird I was thinking you'd take to, but still."