D's Daily Drama (fablespinner) wrote,
D's Daily Drama
fablespinner

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Oh, looky a ficcy muse came back

In progress, but thought some of you might like to know a muse came back for a visit tonight.
Not sure if it'll stay, but here's something to gnaw on for a bit at least....



Title: The Bartlick Boys 16/?
Author: D “The Fablespinner”
Pairings: 3x4, 1xC, 2xH, 5xS, 13x6
Rating: NC-17 (For Issues and events for mature audiences only. Not just for sexual situations.)
Genre: AU Romance/Drama/Historical Basis Fic
Fic & Illustration Archive: http://fablespinner.com/fanfiction/bartlick/bartfic.html
Lyrics to All Songs mentioned and used: http://fablespinner.com/fanfiction/bartlick/lyrics.html
Fablespinner.com! : http://fablespinner.com
Disclaimer: Never to be mine, woe is me.
Warnings: I might lose a few of you with colloquialism, If you have questions, e-mail me, I’ll elaborate further if needed. Death paralleled from the series, Mental Trauma, illness, poverty, etc… quite a bit of angst in general. Lots of domestic sap too. But despite it all, survival in harsh reality.

Author’s note and preface: Please remember, I’m not making any of this stuff up. All the places and events related in this tale, though changed around in timeline order here and there, are all real events that happened to someone in my immediate family (Mostly my Grandfather and both Great Grandfather’s and myself) during the years of 1916 or thereabouts to present day. The only parts that have been contrived for the sake of the story are the character interactions. This is staying true to the era and the times in which this story takes place. It may not be as pretty or as idyllic in setting as my normal fics, but it’s proof that where there is a will, there *IS* a way. You may take our homes and you may take our money. But you’ll never take our hopes or dreams. Spirit runs deep and is not for sale.

=========================================================================

7:00 a.m., Thursday, June 4, 1931

Trowa was the first to come around to wakefulness, the smell of coffee was strong in the air and the rattle and clank of dishes in the kitchen and the not so hushed voices of his nieces alerted him to the expected company and he slowly opened his eyes to greet the new day.

Quatre was sound asleep, and by the haggard lines on his face, he needed all the sleep he could get so Trowa tried to quietly get out of bed without disturbing him.

No such luck.

A hand reached out and grabbed his wrist. “You stay in bed. Those are Doc Sutherland orders, not mine ya sum’bitch. I’ll get yer breakfast and brang it in ta ya.”

“Are we gonna have this damn argument again Cat? I feel fine, honestly. I know ta take it easy Cat, I ain’t the one who looks like death warmed over this mornin’. I won’t force ya ta stay in bed; so don’t force me to neither. Let’s both just take it easy today. But I thank just walking ta the dinner table ain’t gonna kill either of us. Even though I thank you need more sleep.” Trowa said brushing Quatre’s bangs out of his eyes.

“All right, ya got a point. You an’ I are a might too stubborn ain’t we?”

“I thank ya nailed it in the head in one go. Let’s not fight, let’s just both figger out how ta give a little.”

“Sounds fine with me.” Quatre smiled were he lay and reached up to bring Trowa’s face within range for a wonderful first kiss of the morning.

“Mmmmm, I thank I could really learn to like that in the mornin’.” Trowa murmured sleepily as they parted and he finished getting out of bed and fishing for clothes. “Shit, Cat?”
“Hm?” Quatre asked as he too began crawling out of the covers.

“All my clothes are plumb in the other room.”

Quatre just chuckled. “Ah, my nekkid captive then. You can’t leave here without ‘em.”

“Caaat!” Trowa’s voice warned playfully.

“All right, all right. I’m a goin’ ta grab ya some britches, Hang on.” Quatre said disappearing out of the room to return a few seconds later. “We’ve both been ordered back in bed. I don’t like that thar fryin’ pan in yer sister’s hand.”

Trowa just laughed and crawled back in bed with Quatre as Catherine poked her head in the door. “And unless yer getting’ up to shake the ‘dew off the lily’, yer both a-stayin’ in here lest I lock the door on ya with a mason jar ta pee in.” Catherine added brooking no argument before closing the door ending the conversation.

“She always that scary?”

“Just when yer poorly and she’s the one takin’ care of ya.”

“Remind me not ta get sick much”

Trowa just laughed as they waited to be waited on.


~*~*~*~*~*

7:30 a.m., Thursday, June 4, 1931

Quatre was just beginning to doze again when a gentle knock came to the door and without waiting for permission to enter, Catherine came in carrying their breakfast on a tray, Mavis right behind her with mugs of fresh coffee.

“Okay boys, time ta eat.” She said setting the tray down on Quatre’s nightstand and leaning over to look at his face closely.

“Hmmmmmmmmmm, I don’t like how you look this mornin’ ‘tall. You are not a-getting’ outta this bed you hear me?”

“Sakes alive, I swear it must run in the family. ‘Tween you and Trowa I’m-a out-numbered and bein’ picked on. Alright ya’ll win, I won’t budge I swear.”

Catherine beamed, looked over at Trowa and grinned even brighter. “That goes fer you too. You may be a lookin’ like yerself, but let’s make sure. M’kay?”

Trowa only nodded and gratefully took the mug he was being offered from his niece. “Ya’ll right Uncle Trowa? Mama was cryin’ real bad last night, and Daddy said you was real lucky.”

Trowa set his mug down and pulled her into his arms, kissing her brow as he held her tightly. “I’m all right Mavis honey. I was real lucky, but ya see I had people here I love and they were all prayin’ for me. It’s thanks to you I’m still here.”

Quatre’s hand shook as he tired to hide the torrent of tears that burst forth. He’d bottle up his release since the moment Trowa had come up from the mine, Trowa had need him rock solid and he hadn’t had time to let it all sink in, now there was nothing stopping the sheer relief and sorrow from all the tragedy from breaking free and falling in great heaving sobs that left Quatre gasping for air.

It seemed like hours he sat there unable to so anything but cry, he hadn’t even realized he was being held on all sides. Catherine had her arms around him from the side, Mavis had moved to his lap, and Trowa was wrapped around from behind. He was sheltered on all sides by love and warmth, and slowly the hurricane of emotion dissipated.

“I’m sorry.” Quatre began only to have Catherine’s hand land on his lips.

“No. Don’t apologize. Quatre, Heero and Duo already done told me all you done and all you went through and saw. And I saw fer myself how you didn’t let it eat ya, because Trowa needed you. It’s your turn hon -- It’s your time to be comforted. You done ‘nuff comfortin’ others already, just let it all out. Better out than in darlin’.” Catherine smiled softly, brushing Quatre’s bangs out of his eyes.

“Now, you look a-might better too.” She added, noticing the strain to Quatre’s features had lessoned slightly after the emotional purging.

“Mama? Can we come in too?” Linda asked from the door, Fayetta beside her.

It took only a nod for Trowa and Quatre to be joined by the other girls, who crawled into bed with them and the hugs they bestowed only added to the growing feeling of security and contentment.

“Alright girls, I thank you done crowded Uncle Trowa and Uncle Quatre enough for one morning. Their vittles is gettin’ cold.”

Quatre turned to look at Catherine, query evident in his eyes. He hadn’t missed the “Uncle Quatre” reference.

“Well, you are Trowa’s ‘very special friend’. As far as this family goes that makes ya one of us. Ain’t that right girls?”

“Yup. Mama said you and Uncle Trowa were better than best friends, and that you were an Uncle ta a bunch a kids already too and then we asked if you could be ours too, and Mama said yes, that you was like family so if you didn’t mind none, we could call ya Uncle too, and do ya mind Uncle Quatre?” Linda blurted out in a happy, almost inarticulate rush as smiled from her perch on Quatre’s knees.

“My word…” Quatre began, misting up all over again. “No darlin’s I don’t mind none ‘tall.”

“Yay!” All three girls chorused as Catherine shooed them all off the bed.

“Okay girls OUT! You two eat, I’ll be back in a tick ta clear the plate.” And in a quick spin and bobbing auburn tresses, Catherine was gone.

“Stop cryin’ Cat and eat.” Trowa leaned over brushing a kiss behind Quatre’s ear.

“That, I mean… all that… It’s…It’s…”

“It’s called Catherine’s way of makin’ ya part of the family.”

“I feel like I just plumb got married.”

“Me too. Wunnerful, ain’t it?” Trowa grinned over his mug of coffee.

“Yeah, it sure is. But, which one of us is the Wife?” Quatre asked, as an ornery smile spread across his lips. Trowa returned grin for grin.

“Yer shorter.”

“You got purdier eyes.”

“I’d disagree with ya on them eyes, and ya can cook better’un I do too, Cat.”

“Yer hair is longer.”

“Nice try. Yer just as shaggy.”

“Both you boys quit talkin’ and start eatin’! I don’t wanna hear voices!”

“Boy yer sister sure is bossy.”

“Welcome to the family.”

Both men however, ceased talking, and began eating as ordered.
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