Gaele!


Part 10: Winter Break

Snow, snow, snow and snow... for how long will this Nor'easter blow? 
Gaele sighed as she turned away from watching the storm and went back to filling in her journal. I never realized how much snow they get here. It's nearly the end of winter break, and we are grabbing the last few days of vacation together at this wonderful rental cabin. It is a beautiful place, overlooking Cayuga lake, its properties spacious enough to maintain peace and privacy. The cabin had a second story,  which was more like a loft, that overlooked the tall windows illuminating the kitchen and dining room, and gave an unobstructed view of the dock and water's edge, and the treelined shores.... oh great, I sound like a real estate ad.  But it really is a nice respite from the noise and activity of dorm life. Don was very considerate to grant me this, and seems he needed his own space, too.

We got in late  last night, and it got later still because we started talking and  then got a bit silly, joking around until we were both decompressed enough to sleep. I didn't have much trouble getting to sleep,  that's for sure. Don had said he hadn't slept much either, during our trip to California, and probably not much even before that. He had flown into New York long enough to pick me up and take me home for Christmas and New Year's, which turned out to be very stressful for him because Mom read him the Royal Riot Act about Seth. Don had tried to be as patient as possible to Mom, but she just got more upset, so he had to retreat to the guest cottage for the better part of our stay.
In spite of the upsets, I had a great time, talking about school to Dad and Devon, and soaking up enough sunshine to last me the rest of the winter, hopefully. Mom calmed down and warmed up after a while, and she and I had long walks and talks together. Even after Mom's apology to Don, he seemed preoccupied, and didn't talk much, even on our flight back to New York. He didn't work or read,  either, like he usually does. He just sat and looked like he was lost in his thoughts. He seemed to come out of it and was more like his usual self by the time we got back, but I wonder if he'd gone to sleep right away. In spite of his regained good mood, he doesn't seem to rest easy. I'm just wondering what it is that bothers him so much, at times. He never wants to talk about it.

She put her journal back into her duffle bag and crept downstairs to poke her head into his bedroom, and saw he was still asleep, head tucked under a pillow, one arm slung over it to keep it in place.
Don stirred and muttered something, and the pillow slid half off his face, as his other arm came to rest on top of his head. Gaele jumped on  the bed, and playfully grabbed hold of the pillow to yank it away.
Before she knew what was happening, the room spun, and a searing pain went up her side as she bounced off the doorway. The hardwood floor rushed up at her, and she collided with it, her teeth rattling together in her head. She writhed, trying to get back the breath that was so forcefully knocked out of her, but she barely managed a wheeze and a cough. Throughout all this, she had glimpsed a dark shape leaping at her, and she had managed to twist with the force of the blow to her chest, lessening its impact.
When nothing else happened for a few tense moments, she slowly unwound, her breath coming back with less labored wheezing and gulping, until she focused on Don who was standing over her, glassy-eyed, like a frightened rabbit. He sank to his knees beside her, and laid trembling hands on her back.
"Are you hurt," he whispered hoarsely.
She looked up at him, too flummoxed to move or think.
"Talk to me, Gaele!"
"I- I don't think... so," she managed to squeak, as she heaved herself onto her hands and knees.
He sat back against the bed, holding his fists over his forehead, breathing heavily.
"Who attacked us," Gaele whispered, hardly daring to look around.
"I did..." Don sighed.
"What?"
His fists unrolled to cover his anguished expression. "I'm sorry, for a moment I thought you were... someone else..."
"WHAT?" Gaele sat up, and looked around in a daze, as a nameless fear still clamored from the bottom of her brain to fight madly or run away.
Don closed his eyes, and his breathing gradually slowed. He got up when she stood on shaky legs, and helped her to sit on the bed. A sharp pain went up her side, and she winced. She felt gingerly along what she believed was her fourth rib, and found the sore spot, just to the right of her solar plexus. "Don... it hurts... right here..."
He carefully pressed a finger against her rib, and again, a piercing pain shot through her chest, and she felt dizzy and nauseated. The room seemed to spin lazily around her. Don was saying something, but she didn't hear what he said.

When she looked up again, she saw a strange man bending over her. She lashed out in reflex, but he jumped back in time.
"Easy, Gaele, Riyadh is a doctor, he's just having a look at you," Don said reassuringly from the other side of the room. She turned toward his voice, and saw him sitting on the edge of a ladder-backed chair, elbows on knees, head bent over, as he rubbed wearily at his eyes.
"Could you give me a couple of deep breaths, Gaele, please," the man politely asked in a heavy Middle Eastern accent, his dark eyes solemnly looking down at her from over his gold-rimmed spectacles. He was holding a stethoscope close to her sore rib. She took a breath, but it was excruciating. Don winced in sympathy as he watched her. After a moment, Riyadh straightened, and looked over at Don. "I suspect a cracked rib, but nothing more serious, there are no other injuries that I can see. Since little can be done other than a couple of days of bed rest,  I suggest she try to do so, and take the pain medicine as needed."
Don nodded an acknowledgement.
"If anything seems wrong..." he turned to look at Gaele, as he pushed his glasses farther up his long nose. "If you become suddenly and violently ill, or feel severe and prolonged pains, or begin to cough up blood, please go to the emergency room immediately."
"Okay..." Gaele said, feeling frightened again. She clutched the comforter closer to her, as she glanced at Don, who was standing up to shake the doctor's hand.
"Thank you, Riyadh, for coming on such short notice."
"It is nothing compared to what you have done for me, Donatello." The young man bowed slightly.
Don inclined his head with a modest grin, as they went out of the room.
When Riyadh had left, Don emerged in the doorway. He couldn't meet Gaele's gaze, as he approached the bed and sat carefully, as though worried about jolting her. "I can't begin to apologize, Gaele, for what I did to you. I just hope against hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me."
Gaele sat up a little, and let Don adjust the pillows behind her. "Don, I have no problem with forgiving you, I know you didn't do it on purpose... but I'd like to know what you meant when you said you thought I was someone else."
Don closed his eyes. "It's a very long story."
"Well, I'm not planning on going anywhere today. Are you?"
"No... but you need something-"
"Don... talk to me, please."
He looked at her, wide eyed, like a little boy. "All right. I will," he said, "But I should bring you some healing tea."
"Don..."
"Gaele, I'll talk to you after you have some tea. Okay?" Don got to his feet in one smooth movement."Besides, I need a little time to get my thoughts in order."
"Okay..." Gaele lay her head back into the pillows.

She stirred absently at the bottom of her teacup. "That's really awful. No wonder you got so-- but why would she have done such a thing?"
As Don moved the tray from the bed to the nightstand, she could hear the dishes lightly rattling from his trembling hands. "Because she was an assassin."
Gaele sat very still, and stared at her own hands grasping her cup. "Um..." she tried to steady her voice, but failed. "You're a hit?"
"I don't think so..."
"What do you mean you don't THINK so?" Gaele turned to glare at him, ignoring the pain in her side. "It was a failed attempt, right? Somebody failed, but does that mean they will give up? Likely NOT."
"Gaele, this happened a long time ago, years before you were born. A lot of things have changed, since then. Some of those who were once my enemies are now my allies, and they are very powerful ones, at that. I have no wish to keep any enemies. I attempt to make peace with them, and if all attempts fail, I eradicate them."
Gaele laughed in derision. "Are you trying to tell me that you don't have ANY enemies any more? I'll believe THAT when-"
"You don't believe me?" Don interrupted her so suddenly that Gaele forgot what she was going to say next. "That's true, things don't change- they DON'T change. I'll always have enemies-" His voice cracked, as his composure crumbled, and he held his head in his hands. "It's just not expected... to come from somebody you love." He suddenly looked at her in horror, as though she had just invaded his privacy. He then impatiently smoothed the perspiration from his face. "It's all right Gaele, it's over," he said, sniffing sharply. "It happened, and I've been trying to recover from the trauma. I go through spells like this... flashbacks, usually brought on by stress... lack of sleep, that sort of thing. It's not as bad as it used to be..."
Gaele sighed gustily. "So, this is not something you can predict, then."
Don settled and stared at her quietly. "No, I cannot. It is not something I can control just yet. Perhaps I never will."
"Is that why you have been alone for so long?"
He looked askance at her.
"Sorry," she sighed when he didn't reply. "I'm digging too much, aren't I?"

"Don't worry about that. I 'm not offended."
He sat quietly for a few minutes, and then took a hold of her hand.
"Just do me a favor, Gaele, try to avoid coming in and waking me too suddenly, will you? I don't think I could bear it if I ever hurt you again."
"Well, I suppose..." she said thoughtfully. "I can always put bells around my ankles so I can't sneak up on you."
"I suppose that would be a good solution."
"Yeah?" She released him so she could look at him. "Just one little thing, don't go calling me gypsy."
He grinned weakly in response.

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