A Case of You- Eroica fan ficRating: NC-17 Pairing: Dorian Red Gloria/Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach from Yasuko Aoike's "From Eroica With Love" manga comic
Warnings: MAJOR HURT/COMFORT!!! RAPE!!! VIOLENCE!!!! I AM SERIOUS! Read at your OWN RISK! Language, mild corporal punishment, sex between two guys! It DOES have a happy ending. :)),
A Case of You - Part 1Author: Terri Botta, comments to isilwath (at) comcast (dot) net (Make the obvious changes)
copyright 1998Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach gritted his teeth. In all his years in NATO it always amazed him how quickly an entire mission could fall apart. Like a house of cards, one wrong move and the entire thing came crashing down around you. Like tonight. What was supposed to be a simple job of reconnaissance and petty theft from a suspected terrorist group hide-out in California had turned into a full scale raid. Eroica had been hired to perform the task of stealing the terrorist group's list of planned bombing sites. He went in, but he never came out. That was over 24 hours ago. Now he, the Major in charge of this mission, had the dubious honor of trying to rescue the obviously captured thief. He'd had a bad feeling about this mission in the first place. From the moment he'd met with the Earl four days ago to the night he disappeared, the Earl hadn't seemed quite right. Now his suspicions were being confirmed.
He gripped his trusted .44 tightly and gave the order to storm the hide-out. Members of the terrorist group scattered, obviously taken unawares by the NATO troops that came crashing into their haven, and Klaus barked orders to his men.
"A, B and C! Get the bombing sites! The rest if you, arrest as many as you can catch! I'm going to find the Earl!"
With his gun held ready and the safety off, he began a quick, systematic search of the hide-out, all the while cursing the Earl's clumsiness. But the Earl had never been clumsy before, in fact he had always been quite the opposite. No one could move with more grace and skill than Dorian, Earl of Gloria. Angrily he pushed the thoughts of the lovely blond man from his mind. Eroica had tormented him with thinly veiled passes and blatant overtures over their long acquaintance, interfering with mission after mission and teasing him into rage. He nursed the anger carefully because he'd recognized years ago that he was becoming accustomed to the English fop. He did not hate the man's presence nearly so much as he used to, and in fact, he had even found himself enjoying the Earl's company on one or more occasions. That would never do. For if there was no hate between Major Klaus von dem Eberbach and Dorian Red Gloria, Earl of Gloria, then what was left was a respected business relationship partnered with no small amount of affection, and not all of it on the Earl's side. Dorian wasted no opportunity to declare his continuing love for him, and he continued to rebuff and reject the Earl's advances. But it had become more of a game over the years, and Klaus had to admit to himself that, while love was hardly what he felt for the man, he had no hate for him nor had he any desire to see the Earl harmed. Besides, on this mission, the Earl was under his protection, and he had failed in his duty. Honor alone dictated that he had to find the Englishman and bring him out- or at least bring his body home. He swallowed hard, trying not to entertain such morbid thoughts.
He kicked in a door with force and ran down a flight of stairs to a subterranean passageway. There did not appear to be anyone there, but he kept his gun at ready anyway. Above him, he could clearly hear the sounds of gunfire and shouts of men as his troops captured the men hiding in the building. The hallway had several doors and he began opening each one. Two were supply closets, one with weapons. He called E and F down to catalog the contents, and then reached for the third door.
The smell hit him first: blood, urine, vomit... and something else, nearly knocking him off his feet. He was still catching his breath when E and F joined him.
"Major?" E asked worriedly.
He put one hand on the cracked open door. "You two stay out. And call for an ambulance," he commanded, entering the room and shutting the door firmly behind him.
The room was pitch black dark so he turned on his flashlight and swept it around, looking for a light switch. He found one and flipped it, illuminating the space with a single dim-watt bulb. The chamber was no larger than 12 X 12 with damp stone walls. It was made up as a torture chamber or some S & M dominatrix's 'playroom.' Chains with manacles hung from the walls at odd heights, various whips, crops, electric cattle prods, clubs and paddles, and metal instruments lined neatly ordered shelves. An electric shock machine complete with bottle of lube-gel was stashed against a corner, and he identified the 'something else' smell as a branding iron smoldering hotly in a bucket of glowing coals. In the center of this macabre scene, his wrists and ankles shackled to chains on the walls, hung the Earl of Gloria.
The Earl was naked and appeared to be unconscious. He hung in the chains, though his feet were on the ground. From where he stood at the door, Klaus could see that the man had been severely beaten. His lion's mane of golden curls had been crudely chopped off, and the concrete floor was littered with orphaned ringlets. The ringlets drew his eyes down to the stains at Eroica's feet: blood, vomit, urine. Swallowing the urge to vomit himself, he walked slowly to the body, and placed a trembling hand to the smaller man's throat. He had no words to describe his utter relief and odd joy to feel a weak but persistent pulse. The Earl was alive.
Using his gun, he shot through the chains that held the Earl and allowed the man to collapse into his arms. Now he could see the thief's back and he gasped. The terrorists had whipped Dorian, scoring his flesh all the way from his shoulders to his thighs. His buttocks were angry red and the finger bruises and bloodstains on his thighs gave testament that whipping was not all they did. Repulsed and heartsick, Klaus removed his coat and made to wrap the naked body in it. Noting the smoldering brand in the bucket, he gave Dorian a quick once over to see if the horrid thing had been used. Thankfully it had not, but his examination yielded something equally as horrifying. Apparently the raid had interrupted the terrorists in their fun and they had left behind a souvenir, shoved into the Earl's rectum. The handle of something hard and black was sticking out of the bruised and bloody opening. This time it took all of Iron Klaus' will not to throw up everything he'd eaten over the past twenty-four hours. Shakily, he lifted his wireless radio to his lips.
"This is the Major. I have found Eroica. He is in need of medical assistance. Agent G please report to me in the subterranean chambers. E and F will show you the way. Eberbach out."
While he waited, he drew Dorian's limp body over his lap and tried to staunch the still seeping lash wounds with his coat. Guilt assaulted him. This was entirely his fault. Eroica was his responsibility and he had been uncertain about the Earl's ability to perform in the first place. Now this had happened. Would the Earl ever forgive him? Would he ever forgive himself?
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Who is it?"
"Agent G, sir!"
"Come in, but prepare yourself and shut the door tightly behind you!"
The small transvestite slipped into the room. Agent G was the only person Klaus knew who might have an inkling on how to get that monstrosity out of Dorian's ass without causing the Earl permanent damage.
"Major?"
"Come here. I need your help. But be warned, it's not pretty."
He heard G creep closer, then the strangled cry as he saw the crumpled body of the Earl.
"Oh my God!"
"It gets worse," Klaus warned, slowly pulling back his coat, exposing Eroica's bottom half.
"Oh my God!" G cried again, sobbing. "Lord Gloria! Oh my God, what have they done to Lord Gloria!"
"Stop blathering and help me, damn you! We have to get that thing out of him!"
"What? Oh! Oh, yes!"
G knelt down and gripped the handle, giving the object an experimental tug.
"It looks like one of those sand-filled night sticks you see bodyguards carrying. Hopefully it's not one with spikes. I need some kind of lubricant," G said, trembling.
"Use that stuff," Klaus ordered, indicating the lube-gel sitting on the electric shock machine.
"That'll do."
G ran to grab the gel and returned, squeezing a generous amount of the lubricant on his hands and spreading it on the object and the Earl. While G worked, Klaus slid his arms around Eroica and held him firmly. He tried to block out what was happening just out of his view, he tried not to hear the sounds of the gel, and the smell of the blood. Damn he needed a cigarette. He heard G curse softly.
"What is it?"
"It's stuck, sir."
"Keep trying."
"Yes, sir."
G went back to work. Klaus tightened his hold on the Earl and tried to stare straight ahead. Then the Earl made a choked sound.
"no... more... please..."
"Damn it. He's coming around. Can't you work any faster?"
"I'm trying sir!"
Eroica was weakly scrabbling at the concrete, moaning. "I... don't know... where he is.... I...told... you. please..."
"Hurry up!" Klaus growled.
Dorian's back arched and he let out a thin scream that grew in intensity. "I don't know! I told you I don't know!"
"Agent G!!"
"It's coming!"
The Earl's scream echoed off the stone walls as G pulled the club free. Klaus wrapped his arms around Dorian's head, pressing him down.
"Shhh... Shhh. It's all right. It's over. You're safe now. You're safe."
The wails died down more from hoarseness than anything else, and the Earl's ragged voice whispered. "Major?"
"'S me. You're safe now," he confirmed.
Eroica let out a deep sigh and went limp, passing out again. Klaus took a moment to catch his own breath before uncurling himself from around the thief. He looked up to see G kneeling beside him, pale and shaken, a grotesque black object in his hands.
"Good work G."
"Thank you, sir."
Quelling his own trembling limbs, he gathered the light body of the Earl into his arms and stood. G opened the door for him and he stepped into the hall, thankful that his burden was unconscious for the journey. He ignored the stares of his troops as he passed, the shocked gasps, the murmurs.
"Oh God, they cut his hair!"
"Oh, Lord Gloria!"
"Oh my god, look what they've done to Lord Gloria!"
Some of the Earl's own men were among his troops. Dorian's men were as loyal as his own, and to think that he could have kept them out of the rescue attempt was unrealistic. He saw Bonham first, holding the door at the top of the stairs open for him. The older, moustached man was unabashedly crying at the sight of his Lord's battered form.
"My Llllooooorrrddd! Nooooooo!!" came a shrieking voice just as Mr. James cleared the spectators.
"Don't touch him," the Major warned, not stopping as the accountant reached for the Earl.
"This is all your fault! I told him not to do this for you! I told him!"
"Shut him up," Klaus growled, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
The ambulance was just arriving as he made it outside the building. He placed the Earl on the stretcher as gently as he could and briefed the EMTs on the man's injuries. Bonham, James and Agent G went with the Earl in the ambulance while he stayed behind to supervise the clean up and search if the hideout. It would be another hour before he would get to the hospital to check on the Earl's condition. He found a good number of his and the Earl's men huddled in a waiting room on the third floor.
"How is he?" he asked Z.
"We don't know. No one will tell us. None of us are next of kin."
"What?"
Z shrugged. "That's the way it is here, sir."
Klaus ground his teeth. "Damn Yanks."
As he fumed, an orderly approached him. "Excuse me?"
"What do you want?"
"Are you Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach?" the orderly said, reading from a clipboard and totally massacring his name.
"Yes, I am Herr Eberbach."
"I need you to sign some forms."
"What for?"
"Dorian Red Gloria listed you as his next of kin. You have power of medical attorney."
"WHAT?"
"You have medical power of attorney..."
"Let me see that!"
He whipped the clipboard out of the orderly's hands and read the document for himself. /Damn that son-of-a-bitch queer! Now everyone will think we are lovers!/
"Where did you get this?"
"It was in the stack of documents we received containing Mr. Gloria's medical information."
"Lord Gloria," he corrected sharply.
"We've already done all the necessary things to save his life, but we can't do anything more without his or his chosen representative's consent. Since Lord Gloria is in no condition to make decisions for himself, I need you to sign off your consent for us to work on him."
He stood in the waiting room, trying to see anything other than the red haze of his fury. The date on the power of medical attorney document was dated two days ago, the Earl had just done it. /But why damn him! Just to embarrass me?! I'll kill him myself for this! Or... or did he get caught on purpose?!/ He tossed that thought aside almost immediately. Dorian might be a fool and a klutz, but he would never willingly allow himself to be captured by anyone.
"Sir? Your signature?"
He was brought out of his thoughts by the impatient orderly.
"Exactly what needs to be done to Lord Gloria?" he asked, pulling himself away from his anger in order to deal with the situation at hand.
The orderly looked uncomfortable. "I don't know..."
"Get me someone who does," he demanded.
As he waited for the orderly to procure him someone who knew what was going on, he let his anger stew. /Just like that Ero bugger to do this to me. Go and make me his next of kin in this godforsaken, ass-backwards country! Make me have to make the decisions! Drop it in my lap and make me have to deal with it!/
Then a realization struck him and brought him up short. Here he was, standing in a hospital preparing to make medical decisions for someone whom he once thought of as an enemy, knowing that he would make the choices necessary in order to fulfill the duty. And he was suddenly humbled by the magnitude of what Dorian had done. Dorian knew how Klaus felt about him, but he also knew that Klaus would make the right choices. With this document he was saying: 'I know you hate me, but I trust you with my life.' Dorian knew him well enough to know that he was capable of detaching himself from his personal feelings long enough to deal with the matter at hand, and he wondered if he could ever live up to a show of such faith. He trembled a bit. Not only was he responsible for the Earl getting hurt in the first place, now he was responsible for his recovery as well. For a moment he thought Dorian might use it as a clandestine way of making a pass, or of getting Klaus to take care of him, that the Earl might find this amusing, then he remembered the Earl's bloody body and knew that no one would find that amusing.
"Mr. Eberbok?" a doctor asked, claiming his attention.
"Herr Eberbach," he corrected.
"Yes, of course. I'm Dr. Coltesta. I'm one of the surgeons on call tonight..."
"Tell me about Lord Gloria."
The doctor drew a deep breath and took his arm. "Perhaps you may want to come with me."
He pulled his arm from the elderly gentleman's grasp, but followed him into the hall.
"Well?"
"The patient in question was brutalized..."
"I saw the wounds, Doctor, I was the one who found him."
"Then you know we are dealing not only with the injuries suffered from the whipping, but also from the sexual assault."
He swallowed hard and nodded.
"There is quite an amount of internal damage and he's lost a great deal of blood. But all in all, it's not as bad as it could have been. We've managed to stop the internal bleeding and repair some of the rectal wall. He's out if danger now. We need your approval to perform some more advanced and invasive procedures..."
He listened intently, taking in all the information regarding what the doctors wished to do to the Earl. In the end, he signed off on the surgeries, provided a list of approved visitors, and joined the rest of those waiting to hear word.
"The doctors say Lord Gloria will live. He should be out of surgery in five hours." There was a collective sigh throughout the room. "In the meantime, I suggest you all go back to hotel. There is nothing any of us can do here. We have to process the arrests we made tonight and go through the evidence. Agent A, were all the terrorists accounted for?"
"No, sir. Lash and Brunell, the ringleaders were not among the group members we captured tonight," A answered.
"Very well then, I want Lord Gloria guarded. He might be able to identify them so they may come back for him. Agents B and C, you will take first duty as soon as the Earl is out of surgery. I will leave orders for your relief."
"Yes, sir," Agents B and C said in unison.
"The rest of you, come with me. We need to sort through this mess."
With that he tromped out of the hospital knowing his agents would follow.
He returned to the hospital eight hours later, short on sleep and high on nicotine. He knew he should go back to his hotel and fall into bed, but he needed to check on Dorian first. He was still reeling not only from his guilt, but also from the responsibility the Earl had placed on his shoulders.
/Know how to play me like a stuck worm, don't you, you bastard./
In addition to that, there was the very real possibility of the Earl still being in danger, and the repercussions if Dorian had cracked under the torture and actually talked.
He stamped out his cigarette, silently cursing the 'smoke- free' zones that were everywhere in this country, and made his way to the third floor waiting room. He found Bonham, Agent Z, Jones, Agent G, and several other of Eroica's men there. Mr. James was huddled on the floor.
"What's with him?" he asked dispassionately.
"He's passed out," Bonham answered tiredly. "You know how he is."
Klaus nodded. "Any word?"
"He came out of surgery about two hours ago. Doc said that he'd be in recovery for a while, but he should be moved to Intensive Care soon."
"Intensive Care?"
"Procedure for all post-ops like this," the electronics specialist explained.
"Ah."
"He said if all goes well, he'll be moved out of Intensive Care tomorrow and into a private room."
Klaus raised an eyebrow. "A private room? Isn't that more expensive?"
Bonham cast a glance at the sleeping James. "Not even James would subject the Earl to a shared hospital room in the condition he is in."
Klaus winced and sighed. "Very good, Bonham. Keep me informed..."
"Herr Eberbok?"
"Eberbach," he corrected, turning to face the nurse who called him.
"Doctor Coltesta left instructions that we were to tell you when Mr. Gloria..."
"Lord Gloria." What was it with these Yanks! Can't get a name right! Can't get a title right! Were they all this stupid?!
The nurse paused and took a deep breath. "When 'Lord' Gloria was moved to ICU. You may see him now for a few minutes if you wish."
"Thank you. Take me to him."
The nurse led the way from the waiting room to the ICU ward and pointed towards a room down the hall.
"He's in room 341."
"Thank you," he said in clipped tones and headed for the room.
Klaus didn't think he had ever seen Dorian so very very still. The slender man looked positively tiny on the small hospital bed, covered loosely by thin sheets and a flimsy hospital gown. He was on his stomach, swathed in what only could be kilometers of bandages, a tube in his nose and an IV stuck into one wrist. Monitors above the bed tracked his heart, blood pressure and respiration, and Klaus gave a quick glance to the readings. The monitor was one of the only lights in the darkened room, the only other light being what came through the observation window to the nurses' station. The second-hand light bathed the room and the Earl in shadows. Klaus took full advantage of the shadows and slunk into them, standing in the gloom next to the bed, brooding.
/Damn you, Eroica./
The cropped curls stuck haphazardly from the Earl's skull and for a moment Klaus fancied he could see the blood vessels pulsing under the thin layer of skin. His hand moved unbidden to touch one bruised cheek.
"Damn you, Dorian. This was no job for a civilian. Why? What happened to you in there?"
His answer was the steady thrum of the heart monitor and the Earl's shallow breathing. He pulled his hand away and stood helplessly staring down at the still body. Then he heard the heart monitor pick up pace a bit, and saw the Earl's hand twitch. His eyes narrowed with concern and he came a hair closer to the bed. Dorian's brow furrowed and a hiss came from his lips that formed into small words.
"nnnooooooo...more...plleeaasseeeee..."
Ah. Dorian was having a nightmare. Remembering how the Earl had responded to him in the hideout, he leaned over and whispered into an exposed ear.
"Shhhh. 'S me. You're safe now."
The tiny moan ceased, followed by a breathless word, "major?"
"'S me. You're safe. In hospital. Go back to sleep."
The tenseness that had crept into the Earl's body drained and the heart monitor slowed as the Earl slipped back into dreamless slumber. Smiling to himself, and feeling an odd warmth that the thief should feel so safe and comforted just by his presence, he stood up straight and took a moment to adjust the sheets on the bed.
/Damn Yanks don't even know how to make a proper hospital corner!/
A nurse came in to check the Earl's medication levels and she let out a surprised cry when she saw him standing in the shadows.
"Give a girl a heart attack next time, will ya."
"It was not my intent to frighten you," he replied. "When can we expect him to wake up?"
"I don't know. Didn't the doctor speak with you about the surgery?"
"I only just returned a little while ago."
"Well, cases like this, we usually keep them as quiet and still as possible. He may not wake up for a few days. Trauma like this can knock some people out for a week or more," the nurse said. "Once the anesthetic fully wears off, when he wakes up, is up to him."
"I see. Thank you. I am Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach of NATO. This man, the Earl of Gloria is a witness in one of our cases. He will have a guard at all times."
"You'll have to clear that with hospital security."
"I intend to," he assured her, stepping away from the Earl and towards the door. "Good evening."
He left the dark hospital room and returned to the waiting room where several more people had gathered awaiting news of the Earl. Feeling put on the spot and dreading the questions, and accusations, he knew would come, he faced the men in the room.
"The Earl is sleeping restfully."
"Did the doctor say when he would wake up?" asked one.
"I did not speak to the doctor, but the nurse said it may be some time before the Earl regains consciousness."
"What if he talked?"
"Then we deal with that when it comes," he answered.
"The Earl would never talk!" cried one of Dorian's men.
"They cut his hair. Oh poor Lord Gloria!"
"I hear that's not the only thing they cut..."
"ENOUGH!" Klaus boomed, commanding their attention. They stared at him in wide-eyed shock. "C! D! You are Lord Gloria's guards until 08:00 hours. You will be relieved by E & F. I will clear the assignments with hospital security. The rest of you go to the hotel. The Earl is asleep, he will not be waking up any time soon and all you are doing here is bothering the hospital staff!"
Tirade over, he suddenly felt the exhaustion of the day hit him. "I am leaving. I will be back tomorrow to check on the Earl."
He tromped out of the hospital before anyone could stop him and threw himself into his rental car, slamming the door. Lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply, he let the nicotine calm his frayed nerves before starting the rented Ford Escort, /Damn Yanks! I want a BENZ!/ and heading for the hotel.
Morning came all too quickly for the Major and he woke blearily to another sun-soaked day in California. It was only 06:00 and it was already sweltering.
/That's why all the friggin Yanks here are so fucking stupid. Their brains are baked right their friggin skulls!/ he thought furiously, taking a drag on his cigarette. /Dorian would be out in this heat, dressed in some silly foppish shirt with floppy sleeves, with his hair all wild and pulled back with a friggin pink scarf.../ But the hair was gone, and for a moment that reality hit him like a punch in the gut. The riotous blond curls were littered all over the filthy floor of some terrorist group's idea of a good time, and their owner was lying still and silent in a hospital bed.
The cigarette fell from his numb fingers and burned out in the ashtray. He had yet to fully deal with the horrors he'd witnessed last night, nor with the fact that those horrors had happened to Dorian. He shuddered, remembering the brand steaming hotly in the red coals. He'd recognized the symbol- it was the brand used to mark diseased cattle destined for slaughter- and his mind recoiled at the image of that brand touching any part of the Earl's delicate skin. And he knew how delicate the thief's skin was. He'd touched it on many occasions, mostly unwelcome, but he remembered its softness just as he remembered the faint scent of roses clinging to the Earl's hair and clothing. There had been no scent of rose on him last night, or if there had been, it was drowned out by all the other stenches in the room. He could still see the naked man hanging limply in the chains, shoulders bent back under the weight of the sagging body, the blood running streaks over the pale skin, the swollen lips and blackened eye, the shorn hair scattered all over the floor and the ravaged scalp left behind.
/My fault./
He heard himself sniffle and jolted in surprise. Shocked he touched his fingertips to his face and was amazed when they came back wet.
/Damn him! He's made me cry! It's shameful for a man to cry! Damn him! Damn him!/
Roughly, he wiped the tears away and checked his watch. He'd spent nearly half an hour loitering when there was work to be done. He lit another cigarette, downed his cup of awful Yank coffee and stalked out the door.
He arrived at the hospital in time to clear the Earl's guards with hospital security, something he had neglected to do before he left the previous night, and supervise the changing of the guard so to speak from C & D to E & F. Neither agent had anything untoward to report except that the Earl was suffering nightmares. Under the circumstances, Klaus was not surprised to hear that at all. After catching up with the doctor, he went in to see the Earl who was still in ICU and would remain there until the afternoon. The room was a little less gloomy now that the sunlight was coming in from the windows, but it only made the figure on the bed all the more ghastly. The warm, yellow light made every bruise and stain and mark on the Earl's body stand out: a scratch here, a bite mark there, a bruise there, and the Major felt his heart stop in his chest.
/My fault./
He could almost hear the Earl's soft, silky voice, his light giggle, the way his voice lilted when he said the word 'Major' or more intimately, 'Klaus.' Or the way the Earl continually tried to seduce him with sidelong glances and wry smiles, how he never passed up the chance to touch him... or to help him...
/Or to be with me.../
Time and time again, Dorian had risked his own life and safety to come to Klaus' aid, usually messing things up worse than they were, but it was the effort that counted. For someone who seemed as airhead and flighty as Eroica, Dorian had demonstrated remarkable staying power. It would seem that in matters where the Major was concerned, the Earl of Gloria was more tenacious than a Doberman and about as loyal.
Dorian whimpered and twitched with the beginnings of another nightmare. Before he could even hiss out the pleas, Klaus was whispering in his ear.
"Shhh. 'S me. You're safe now."
No barely uttered 'major?" this time, only a deep sigh and a relaxing of the Earl's body. Klaus withdrew, taking a moment to satisfy himself that the Earl was being adequately taken care of. He passed by the waiting room and was surprised to see Bonham and Mr. James asleep on one of the couches. They must have spent the whole night in the hospital. For a moment he was angry that they disobeyed his order to return to the hotel, then he remembered that they were not his men and he was not responsible for them. With a shrug, he left them to their sleep and went to begin the interrogations of the terrorist group members arrested the previous night.
By the time he returned to the hospital it was late afternoon and Eroica had been moved to a private room on the fifth floor. G & H had relieved E & F, and they were occupying positions on either side of the Earl's hospital door.
"Anything to report?" he asked them.
"No, sir," G answered.
"He has nightmares, sir," H added. "They're keeping him sedated."
Klaus frowned. He did not like the sound of that. Aside from the fact that Dorian was helpless in his current state, he needed the Earl's statement for his report. Scowling, he went into the room.
The private room was a little cheerier and someone had brought a bouquet of roses to improve the smell.
/Probably James/
The flowers were lost on both occupants of the room. The Earl still lay on his stomach, unmoving, and the Major was too concerned to note anything other than their presence. He walked to the bed and tightly gripped the metal rail, looking down at the still figure lying on the mattress. Some of the color had returned to the thief's face, and someone had combed the cropped hair revealing a scratch that had been hidden on his scalp. The sight of another wound on the Earl drove him to impotent rage and he clenched the bar in his hands, grinding his teeth. He wanted someone to kill, or to at least maim.
/Why are you so concerned about a stupid scratch on that queer's face?/ his personal demon asked him. /It's not like you haven't left a few bruises on that fop!/
He knew it was true. He'd hit Dorian on more than one occasion when the Earl had inflamed his temper enough. Dorian had never raised a hand to him in retaliation. The average man would have taken that to mean Dorian knew he was a spineless sissy, but Klaus had come to know better. Dorian had his own strength, and it was in his brain not his brawn. He could never hope to beat him in a fist fight, but in a battle of wits, they were equally matched. And Dorian had courage and guts. Klaus remembered one dark night in Alaska, he himself wounded and beaten by a Russian KGB bear, when Dorian bluffed the Communist with a lot of balls and a gun he thought was empty.
It was different when he was the one leaving the bruises. Dorian trusted him, and in truth he'd never hit the Earl with the full force of his rage, and he'd always made sure that the impact never left any permanent damage. But no one else could harm Dorian and not face the wrath of Iron Klaus. The sight of foreign blemishes on the thief's perfect face struck him in deep places. Yes there were times when the queer deserved to be beaten bloody, but *he* was the only one who was allowed to throw the punches. If anyone else even hinted at harming the Earl, they'd find themselves flattened. He was painfully aware of how twisted that logic was, but then nothing between him and the Earl had ever been logical.
Things that the Earl did to please him, infuriated him. Every gesture, every kind word, every breathless declaration of love drove him to rage. He spent hours trying to forget each encounter with the man who shadowed him nearly everywhere. He cringed every time he heard the Earl's name and NATO mission in the same sentence. There were times when he desperately wished he and Dorian had never met. Yet here he was, angry beyond comprehension at the sight of the battered man in front of him, and ready to exact revenge on those responsible.
/Why the hell should you care what happens to that fucking pervert? He's caused you enough grief and interfered with your missions! You should walk out and leave him here to rot!/
But he couldn't, and he knew he couldn't. Logically he could argue that Dorian had pulled on his sense of responsibility, and as the Earl's chosen representative in medical matters, it was his duty to make sure the man was cared for. But he knew it was more than that. His anger with Dorian was a front, and a thinning one at that. He was still trying to nurse an old hatred for a man who had done him no real harm, and finding it difficult to maintain.
The Earl moaned in his bed, the long fingers scraping at the mattress, and Klaus sighed. He reached to touch the short hair but checked himself.
/Why should it bother you if he has bad dreams? You're not his keeper!/
As he fought with himself, Dorian's moan grew louder, into a hollow wail. A nurse breezed in a moment later carrying a syringe.
"Time for more feel-good juice," she said, reaching for the Earl's IV. She was stopped by Iron Klaus' hand on her wrist.
"What are you giving him?" he demanded.
"A sedative."
"Nein. I don't want him drugged. He needs to wake up. We need his statement."
"Look mister, this man isn't going to be in any shape to tell anybody anything for quite a while. In the meantime, his screams disturb the other patients."
The simple statement hit him like a blow even as the Earl's wail escalated into a mildly louder scream. He was writhing weakly now, which was surely causing him some pain. The nurse shrugged off his hand and moved to inject the sedative, but he stopped her again.
"Nein."
"Look, if you have a problem with this, take it up with his representative. In the meantime, I have a job to do."
"I *am* his representative," he seethed. Damn these infernal, rude Yanks!
The scream got louder and the nurse struggled to free her arm from the Major's grip. He released her suddenly and put up a hand.
"Wait!" he ordered. With one eye still on the rude nurse, he leaned over and touched Dorian on the shoulder.
"Shhhh. 'S me. You're safe now."
It took a moment, and Klaus was briefly afraid that it wouldn't work this time, but then Eroica's screams ceased.
"major?"
"Ya. 'S me. I'm here. Go back to sleep," he confirmed.
"sssafe..."
"Shhh, sleep."
"mmmm..."
Dorian's body stilled and his breathing normalized. When he was certain that the Earl was settled, he stood up and faced the nurse.
"Impressive. Now tell me what we do when you're not here," she said peevishly.
"Give him enough of your drugs to make him stay quiet through the night. I will return in the morning and stay with him during the day."
"Whatever," the nurse answered coldly and left.
He gave a glance down to the sleeping Earl, once again cursing him, but his hand reached out to finger a cropped curl and lament the loss of the long tresses. Scowling at himself, and at the feelings he was having for the man in the bed, he stormed out.
True to his word, however, he was back at the hospital before visiting hours the next morning, carrying a briefcase full of leftover paperwork. Agents M and N were the guards this morning, working their way steadily through the alphabet per his orders. He told them to find him something to work on and they procured him an extra feeding tray on wheels. It was small, but adjustable, and he found that if he utilized the windowsill, he had enough room to spread out the papers. He then settled himself in to baby sit the Earl for the duration of the day.
The Earl kept him busy, interrupting his paperwork no less than six times in four hours. By lunch his nerves were fraying and he desperately needed a cigarette. He settled Dorian from his latest nightmare and slipped out, knowing he had at least twenty minutes before the next one: just enough time for a sandwich and a few smokes. When he came back, O and P were taking over guard duty.
"Anything to report?" he asked them.
"He's been quiet since you left, sir," M answered.
"Mr. Bonham and Mr. James are in there with him now, sir," O said, then added quickly when he saw the Major's scowl, "They were on the list of approved visitors..."
"It's all right O, they're approved. I just wasn't in the mood to face the stingy bug today. I'm likely to pound him right into his own pocket."
Sighing, he decided to wait a little while before subjecting himself to the Earl's men. He leaned against the wall nearest the hospital room's door and listened in on the conversation.
"Jones will be here tomorrow, m'lord, and Peters too," Bonham was saying softly.
"I even paid for them to fly non-stop here!" added James.
"So we'll all be with you tomorrow, m'lord."
"And I bought more flowers."
"We're hopin' you'll wake up tomorrow. We miss you terribly, and we want you to get well."
"You have to, this hospital is so expensive."
That comment made the Major bristle.
"Yes, m'lord, it is expensive, but it's a good hospital and Uncle NATO has been taking good care of you."
"I don't even want to think about that Monster!"
"He's making sure you get the best care and making all the decisions. He's keeping it together much better than any of us would in this situation. You were smart to put him in charge like that," Bonham went on, ignoring James' outburst.
"Nooo! My Lord, you must get better. You must wake up soon."
"Yes, m'lord. Please get better. We're all worried sick about you and we won't feel safe until you can look at us and smile at us."
"Yes, and my lord, please don't forget that your life insurance is very cheap!"
That did it. Klaus threw open the door and stalked in.
"Get out," he growled.
"Major, sir, he meant no harm," Bonham tried. "He always says that to Lord Gloria."
"Get out," he repeated.
"This is all your fault! You monster! He wouldn't be hurt if it wasn't for you! You did this to him!" James accused.
"Mr. Bonham, get him out of my sight, NOW."
"Yes sir!"
Bonham grabbed the accountant by the shoulders and shoved him towards the door.
"Noo, my loorrddd!"
"James this is not the time for this!" Bonham yelled.
"I'll never forgive you for this, Major!"
The loud voices must have reached the Earl because he began to add his own voice to the fray in the form of a panicked scream.
"Now look what you've done! Damn you!" Klaus seethed, going to Dorian's side.
James stilled as they watched the Major quiet their Lord with soft words and a comforting hand.
"There," Klaus announced with finality. "He is asleep. Do not disturb his rest again."
"No sir," Bonham agreed and took James from the room.
Slumping back down into the chair by the bed, Klaus wished for another cigarette and a bottle of hard liquor to get rid of his headache.
"Why do you surround yourself with such assholes?" he asked the unconscious Earl.
Looking over at the motionless body, he stared at it for a moment then sighed and stood, fixing the rumpled sheets that had been dislodged by the Earl's nightmares and covering up his feet.
"Comfy? Now maybe you'll give me an hour's peace," he said, returning to his paperwork.
The Earl gave him almost two. Then almost three after that. Then four. By the time visiting hours were over at 22:00 hours, the intervals between nightmares had significantly increased. Klaus wondered if this was because of his supervision, and he didn't know if he liked it if it was.
/It's your way of keeping me with you, you fucking queer!/ his personal demon screamed, but another part of him was strangely pleased. The Earl wasn't at all coherent, yet he responded to his voice, his touch. No one had ever trusted him so much.
He left at 22:30, right after the night duty nurse came in to sedate Dorian for the night. He told her he would be back in the morning, gathered up his paperwork and headed back to his hotel. There he ordered a small supper, smoked a pack of cigarettes, called his Chief, and made plans for the next day. He fell asleep still clothed.
The following day Dorian suffered only two nightmares before lunch, the first being right after the night-time sedative wore off. Klaus was getting better at recognizing the beginnings of an episode, and now he was usually able to settle the Earl before he even got out of the whimpering stage. It was also taking less to quiet him as well. Now all he had to do was murmur "'S me," and the Earl would go back to sleep.
Around midday, he took a break for lunch and cigarettes, allowing the Earl's men to visit with him unaccosted. He was in a relatively good mood and didn't want it ruined by the stingy bug accountant. He came back an hour and half later, happy to hear that the Earl suffered no nightmares in his absence, and listened in on the tail end of the visiting team's conversation with their Lord.
"Please get better soon, m'lord. We all miss you."
"Yes, please."
"There are all these flowers here that we know you'll just love."
"Oh, and m'lord, a new collection is coming to London Art. I am sure there is something there you will want. You must wake up and tell us what you want us to take."
Klaus laughed to himself. Interesting ploys to entice the Earl awake by offering him an opportunity to steal art.
"We have to go soon. Uncle NATO will be back," he heard Bonham say and took it as a cue to enter the room.
"Uncle NATO is back," he said evenly, but without malice. The Earl's staff looked so miserable that he could not bring himself to be angry.
"You do know that has become an endearment, don't you sir?" Bonham asked.
"I know."
"We have to go now, m'lord, but we'll be back tomorrow."
They filed out of the room and he gave them fond looks. Such loyalty should always be rewarded. Then he saw that Mr. James had stayed behind. The accountant was standing by the Earl's bed, looking down at the chopped blond hair.
"Mr. James?"
"He's going to be devastated when he sees it. He's been growing it for years."
"It'll grow back."
James nodded and fingered the white sheets. It was quiet for a moment, and Klaus felt his temper rising, but before he could growl, James spoke again.
"He was sick, you know."
"What?" he asked, surprised.
"Lord Gloria. He was sick. He had a terrible case of the flu. Picked it up in Indonesia or Singapore. He was nearly hospitalized with it. He was just getting over it when you called him in on this mission."
"I didn't know."
"He didn't want you to. He... he made me powder him down and get make-up so he wouldn't look so ill. I begged him not to do it. He still wasn't himself, but he wouldn't listen to me."
The Major digested the words, suddenly realizing that he subconsciously knew the Earl was not well. /That explains why I felt bad about the mission from the beginning!/
"That was phenomenally stupid of him," he said.
"It was you. He'd do anything for you." It was a simple statement said without accusation. Klaus made no comment.
"And I'd do anything for him. He's everything to me. Without him, I am nothing. He puts up with so much from me, with all my eccentricities, my stinginess, my whining. No one has been as good to me as Lord Gloria. I have no purpose without him. If anything were to ever happen to him..."
"He is in good hands, Mr. James," he assured. "I won't allow any harm to come to him."
The accountant looked at him and he was taken back by the heartbroken expression on the man's face.
"I know. And that's what scares me most."
Mr. James leaned over the bed and kissed the Earl's cheek briefly.
"Please get better, my lord. Soon."
Then he slipped past the Major and left the room without another word. Klaus watched him go. When the door had fully closed, he looked back at the Earl. The afternoon sunlight was peeking in through the closed blinds and shafts of light were bathing the silent body in a soft glow. He looked like a sleeping angel in the bed, illuminated with his own light.
/Damn, he is a beautiful man,/ Klaus thought, drawn inexplicably towards the vision.
He passed a hand through a sunbeam that chose to light on the back of Dorian's head, trying to feel the warmth. Maybe it would be enough to warm some of the chill inside him. The scene of Dorian bathed in light reminded him of a conversation he'd had with a police officer from Washington state. They had met at an International Anti-terrorism conference in Vienna one year. The man was ex-Black Ops in the Yank Army and had been included on several terrorism task forces because of his skill. He had been teamed with the large, gruff man on a skills-building exercise and found the man tolerable. He was a big man, older than Klaus, with blue eyes and short cropped hair- very military. His partner was anything but. The partner was a little scrap of a thing with a big mouth and long hair. He wasn't even a police officer. Klaus had disliked him, and wondered why such a stoic, military man would suffer to be partnered with someone so... unsuitable.
On the last night of the conference, several of them went out to a local bar for drinks and the Americans came with them. While the young, long-haired partner tried to pick up women at the bar using passable German, he sat with the ex-Army captain and set on getting the man drunk. He knew it wouldn't be a problem. Yanks rarely could hold their liquor. When their tongues had been sufficiently loosened by good beer, he posed the question of the partner to the military man. He did not know what he was expecting the man to say, but he certainly was surprised by what he got, so surprised that he never forgot it.
The man looked pensive then answered in a sincere voice:
"We're killers, you and I, trained to set our morality at the door and blow some bastard's head away. Every day we do things that would send other people screaming to their mothers, but we like it. We're trained to do it and we do it well. We go into the sewers of the earth and deal with the sludge and puke of humanity. And because that's all we do, we only see the darkest, cruelest side of people, and we forget that's not all there is. We see the world in black and white. When we enter a new place, we don't see a tastefully decorated room. We see how many objects can be used as weapons in a pinch, and how many exits there are, and how defensible the place is. We judge people by the number of concealed weapons they could have in their clothing, and how many priors we think they have. We are the dark side of humanity, its cold heart. We are one step above the criminals we hunt and sometimes not even that.
"Then there are people who are our polar opposites. People filled with light. Sometimes so much light they shine. And sometimes these people grace us for a while, and share their light with us because we have so little of our own. And they warm us with their joy and their never ending optimism, and their unshakable power to believe in the goodness of the human soul. They're little angels walking the earth, sharing their light with others.
"My partner is one of those people. Every day he follows me into the sewers, and he amazes me with his ability to come out unscathed. He doesn't let the darkness touch him. Through him, I am beginning to see the world not just in black and white, but in all its colors. With him I can see the nice room and the scared kid trying to look cool. He is my salvation and my sanity. I am blessed with his light and his cunning and his courage, and every day I wonder what I would do without him in my life."
The Yank had stopped then, an odd look on his hard face, as if he'd just realized something. Then he hastily excused himself and went to retrieve his partner. They left together shortly thereafter, and Klaus did not see them again. They did not come down to the final breakfast the following morning. Klaus had thought that odd but did not ask about them.
He looked down at the sleeping Earl, settling into the chair and leaning his arms on the metal bar. Was Eroica one of those angels that walked the earth? Or was he a demon? One had to remember that Lucifer had once been an archangel himself. The thief certainly brought color into his life, usually in the form of colorful words. Klaus smiled. Some of his memories of the Earl were pleasant ones.
/My own personal angel and demon in one,/ he mused. /You are my salvation and the means by which I am condemned./
Without fear of the Earl waking up, he felt brave enough to run a finger over the smooth cheek and closed eyelids, feeling the soft eyelashes. The sharp point of Dorian's nose gave way to his full lips and the moist breath that came from them. He inhaled deeply, smelling the faint scent of roses mixed with Dorian's own odor, particularly strong since the Earl had not been bathed completely since he was brought to the hospital, but it was not unpleasant.
The sound of the door opening pulled him out of his reverie and he raised his head to see a strange doctor come in.
"Yes?"
"I am Doctor Erlich. I assisted with Mr. Gloria's surgery on Tuesday. I've come to check his stitches."
"Lord Gloria," he corrected for the thousandth time.
"I'm sorry. Lord Gloria."
"You may proceed," the Major said, waving a hand to Dorian's body.
"Some privacy please?" the doctor asked, an odd lilt in his voice.
The tone of the doctor's voice bothered him but he stood and bowed stiffly. "Of course, Herr Docktor."
He gave a last look at the Earl. No nightmares all afternoon yet, and no signs of one coming on. It should be safe to leave him for a few moments. Besides, he wasn't about to give up the chance for a cigarette. Q & R were outside the door.
"A doctor is going to examine the Earl. Come get me when he is finished. I'll be outside smoking a cigarette."
"Yes, sir," R said.
Still slightly disturbed by the doctor's attitude, he went outside to smoke. He had just finished his first cigarette when Q came bursting out the doors.
"Sir! Lord Gloria!!"
He needed no explanations. Running at top speed, he raced back up to the fifth floor, not bothering to wait for the elevator. He could hear the Earl's screams from the stairwell, and he flew into the room. There he saw Dorian being held down by two large orderlies. His sheets had been pulled aside and his hips raised up so the doctor could examine his anus.
/Damnit! Didn't someone tell this asshole he's dealing with a rape victim?!/
Then he saw that the doctor had stuck something into the Earl's rectum. Later he would learn that the object he had seen was called a speculum and that it was a perfectly acceptable, albeit poorly used in this instance, instrument, but right now all he saw was red.
Snarling he shoved one orderly off of the Earl and drew his gun on the second.
"Unhand him!"
The orderly released Dorian immediately and backed away. Klaus turned the gun on the doctor.
"You, Herr Docktor, get that thing out of him now!"
"Now see here!"
"Get it out NOW!"
Sputtering, the doctor did as the Major ordered.
"Didn't anyone tell you this man was raped?!"
"Of course I know he was raped," the doctor spat. "But the speculum is no larger than anything else I'm sure he puts up his ass on a regular basis!"
If it were possible, Klaus' rage would have reached new heights. He grew deadly still, his eyes burning, his hand shaking, his finger aching to pull the trigger.
"Get out," he hissed with barely restrained fury.
"I'm not finished the examination."
"Another doctor will finish. You are not touching him again. Q! R!"
The agents came in at his call, their faces pale.
"Please escort Herr Docktor and his two goons out of this room, and see to it that they are not to return. They deliberately hurt the Earl."
Klaus waited only long enough to make sure his men were carrying out their orders before he holstered his gun and hurried to comfort the still wailing Earl. Dorian was thrashing, screaming pitifully like he had in the stone room when G pulled the club out of him. This time a hand on the shoulder or pat would not do to calm the distressed man. He lowered the bar on the bed and leaned forward enough to take the Earl's upper body into his arms.
"Shhhh. Shhh. It's all right. It's over. You're safe. I'm here," he soothed, keeping up a litany of soft words.
Dorian kept crying, but he seized the front of the major's shirt in a tight grip, clinging to him. A nurse came into the room.
"May I sedate him?" she asked.
"Yes, please," Klaus answered haggardly, then said to Dorian, "You're going to sleep now. It's all right. There's no need to be frightened. I'm here and I won't let anyone hurt you. I'm sorry I left you."
The sedative took effect quickly and Dorian ceased his cries and stilled. Klaus glared up at the nurse.
"That doctor is forbidden back into this room."
"Understood sir."
"A man like that should not be practicing medicine!"
"We'll look into it, sir, I'm sorry."
"You will be. If I see him in this room again, I will shoot him."
The nurse gasped but nodded. "I'll make sure the hospital staff knows, sir."
"Good. Now leave us."
He held the Earl a while longer after the nurse left then moved to lower him back to the bed, only to discover that Dorian's fingers were still tangled in his shirt. Sighing, his nerves now really shot to hell, he unclenched the stiff fingers and gently laid Eroica down. He walked out of the room to face his agents plus the members of the Earl's staff who had been in the waiting room.
"What happened, sir? Is Lord Gloria all right?" Q asked.
"The doctor did not further damage the Earl. But I have left express orders that he is not to enter this room again. Now if you will excuse me, I am going to get out of here before I kill someone."
"Yes, sir."
"Call me if the Earl's situation changes."
"Yes sir."
Several hours later, he was awakened in his hotel room by the phone ringing. The clock read 22:00 hours and he wondered who would be calling.
"Yeah?" he growled into the receiver.
"Major?" Agent T said.
"'S me."
"You left orders to be notified if Lord Gloria's situation changed."
"Yeah, and?"
"He just woke up."
"I'll be there in 30 minutes."
"Yes sir."
He made it back to hospital in twenty. The Earl was on his side, with his back towards the door when he entered: the only indication that the man was still awake. Coming around to face him, he saw that Dorian's eyes were closed and that his arms were curled in towards his chest in a defensive position. The sight made his heart pang. Gently, he touched the Earl's temple, knowing the man knew he was there. Dorian winced at the contact and he jerked his hand away.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
The blue eyes opened slowly, peering up at him through dazed lids.
"s'ok," Dorian whispered hoarsely.
The Earl shifted a little and let out a hiss of pain.
"Do you need something for the pain?"
"no."
"Are you sure?"
"yes," Dorian replied softly. "has NATO come for its statement?"
Klaus blinked at him in confusion then shook his head. "I'll take it when you're ready."
There was a long pause before the Earl spoke again. "then why are you here?"
"I wished to see for myself that you were healing."
"NATO protecting its interests?"
"Something like that."
Dorian nodded weakly. "thought so. well, as you can see, i am... recovering. you can go now."
He shifted uncomfortably. "I'd rather stay a while. If you don't mind."
The Earl's eyes closed. "no, i don't mind."
"Thank you."
He sat down in the chair by the bed and watched the Earl in silence. After about ten minutes, Dorian whispered, "have you been here the whole time?"
"Since you were brought to the hospital three days ago, yes."
"how did i get here?"
"We raided the hide-out and rescued you."
"who found me?"
"I did."
There was another moment of silence. "did you enjoy seeing me like that, major?"
"Never!" he hissed with a vehemence that surprised even himself.
He saw the Earl try to smile. "i'm sorry. that was uncalled for."
"Yes it was."
"forgive me my trespasses?"
"You are injured beyond words and in great pain. I do not hold you responsible for anything you say," he answered formally.
"even if i say that i love you?"
"You always say that."
"yes, i do. because it is true."
"You believe it to be true."
"i know it is true, just as i knew you would come for me."
"You endow me with entirely too much charity."
"no."
They fell quiet, Dorian needing to regroup his strength. "i had a dream. i dreamed you were with me and that you comforted me when i was frightened. i dreamed that you protected me and when i was to be hurt again, you chased my attackers away. i dreamed you spoke tenderly to me into my ear and stroked my hair and held me. i dreamed that i was in your arms, safe and warm. i did not want to wake up from such a wonderful dream."
"You have a very active imagination," he lied.
"if all i have are dreams, then it must be enough." Then he added, "i didn't talk."
"I know."
The Earl tried to move, to curl further into himself, but the motion hurt him and he whimpered.
"Let me get a doctor," Klaus asked.
"no. 's not so bad."
The Major was shocked. "When have you ever been hurt so horribly?"
Dorian let out a choked laugh. "so something shocks iron klaus."
"Who would not be shocked to see such a thing!"
"even if i am a queer?"
"You are still a human being, in spite of your lifestyle."
"i'm glad to hear that major, really i am."
He moved to put a hand on the Earl's shoulder. "You should rest."
Dorian hissed with pain. "i wish i could, but the darkness... i can't sleep."
"I can have them sedate you..."
"No!" Eroica burst out, then groaned in pain.
"Lord Gloria?"
"no drugs. it's worse with the drugs. the dreams still come only i can't wake up. and there's only the darkness and no dream-you to comfort me. i'm trapped there, all over again," the thief informed, trembling with remembered fear, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his teeth biting his lower lip.
Klaus recognized the signs of the Earl desperately trying to stave off a round of hysterics.
Blinking, feeling guilty for lying, he pet the chopped hair. "Shhh. S'ok. 'S me. You're safe. I'm here. You can sleep now."
Several heartbeats later the Earl asked in a small voice, "major?"
He leaned over and whispered into one delicate ear.
"It was no dream," he admitted uncomfortably.
The Earl's eyes fluttered open and looked at him pleadingly. "then hold me again, please? let me know i am safe. let me feel your arms around me and go to sleep lulled by your heart beat in my ear."
"Too many words," Klaus grumbled, but he lowered the bar on the bed and sat down on the mattress.
Dorian's hand came up to grasp at his shirt, and slowly he laid down and let the Earl position himself into a spot that was comfortable. In the end, Eroica's head was pillowed in the crook of his shoulder and his hand was resting loosely across his chest. The Major's upper body was on the bed, while his legs dangled off the side and the arm that supported the Earl's head had its hand touching the shorn curls. Dorian sighed against his human heating pad and closed his eyes.
"You were stupid to accept the mission after you had been so sick," Klaus admonished.
"you needed me. besides i would do anything for you."
"Then you are a fool."
"only for you," the Earl answered, his voice slurring with sleep.
"Shhhh, go to sleep. You're safe now. I'm here."
"s..fe..."
Klaus lay quietly in the dark after the Earl fell back to sleep. With Dorian's body snuggled up against him, it was hard to resist wrapping his arm around the slender back, but that would have caused the Earl pain. Instead he opted to lift his legs into the bed and stretch out as much as he could on the tiny bed. Dorian sighed against him, burrowing deeper into his shoulder, and he waited for the Earl to settle down again. He listened to the steady breathing of the man next to him, and felt the warmth seeping into him from where they were pressed against each other. His eyelids grew heavy in the darkness. He fell asleep to the sound of Dorian's soft snores.