Whatever It Takes {MxM} *COMPLETE*

{3} - Beautiful

He was really starting to confuse himself. What did he really want?

Wanda had stood as he had cried into his pillow and simply left him there never to return to his room again. A week had nearly came and went and still he had not seen or heard from her, leading him to believe that her act of heroism was something which would not be repeated.

He sighed as he pressed the down button on his bed controls. He preferred a laying position to one of sitting most days. The upright position caused him discomfort from the diaper not to mention the pain in his side.

He was just about completely comfortable when the door suddenly opened and a well-dressed man, his back to him, rushed in only to heave like mad and rush back out. What the-?

Oh right the smell. It wasn't his fault he stunk. Sheesh!

Andre sighed again and just lay there staring up at the ceiling, waiting to see if the man would come back. He wasn't sure of who the man could possibly be but something told him that based on his attire it just might be the big man himself.

Mr Brookoff.

Le Gasp! And he had just rushed out of here in a Pentecostal dry heaving fit. Poor guy. He's probably on his way to the nearest phone to call in the need for a post war gas mask.

You know, after he dry heaves his ass off, of course. Andre thought, as he rolled his eyes. Luckily his nostrils had lost all sense of smell long before now or he too would need one.

If that were indeed Mr. Brookoff, would he care about the condition of his room? Would he care that he was being treated like an animal in a hospital he owned? Would he be livid enough to fire all those who took part in his neglect? One could only hope...

Andre nearly jumped a foot off the bed when the door suddenly opened up again and the same richly dressed man walked back into the room, this time facing him and he nearly lost his breath when the eyes above the face mask looked up and met his.

Eyes the color of pure melted amber crystal melded with sea green seared him even from across the room and he reared back at the intensity emanating from them. The stare was so direct and laced with anger that Andre whimpered and tried to squirm away from it only to teeter precariously from the bed's edge before he fell right off it.

Hard.

Tears immediately stung his eyes as he cried out in pain, his sides exploding in agonizing waves of hurt. It was so freakin bad, that his breathing suddenly became erratic and he knew he was having another fit of breathlessness.

How fitting that he should die after seeing the most beautiful thing he'd seen since coming into this god forsaken place. A pair of eyes for crying out loud! He wanted to wail even louder at how unfair his miserable life was and how cheap fate had been. Could he not have at least seen the whole face?

Ugh! The pain he was in was astronomical. Would he die now?

He was just contemplating on which breath would be his last when strong arms came around his fragile frame and lifted him ever so carefully onto a chest built like a tank before the eyes seared his again.

"Why did you do that?" Rafe asked the man in his arms. The poor thing's light brown eyes were so wide in his face, he was sure that they could quite possibly fall right out the sockets if he didn't stop that. "You could have seriously hurt yourself. What reason would you have to be afraid of me?"

Andre's eyes narrowed at him. "I'm not afraid of you." he whispered, wheezed, his trembling lower lip betraying him. "What can you possibly do to me that they haven't already done?" he lowered his eyes and sniffled, hating that he appeared so pathetic and vulnerable before the strange man.