New Orleans LA, June 14, 2003
Seventeen days had passed since Shelby had returned to New Orleans after finishing her mission in Seattle. Once the other Guild members had found out that Questa wasn't kicking her out of his life, they welcomed her back into their unique family fold. They even welcomed Stephen more willingly than they had previously; that willingness was due to the respect he earned when they found out he helped his younger sister accomplish her mission.
Stephen had, under the guidance and assistance of Genard's keen business sense, purchased the house he'd seen for sale down the street from the safehouse. Shelby, being given the choice of staying at the safehouse with the Guild or staying with her brother in his new home, felt that dividing her time was the best option. She went back and forth between the two houses with alarming regularity, and each night slept wherever she happened to be when bedtime came. Although, as Stephen pointed out as frequently as opportunity allowed, she tended to spent more time, especially at night, at the safehouse than at his house.
Shelby had reasons for that. Shortly after her return on May 29, Questa had suffered an emotional breakdown that left him mentally drained. He explained later that it was more of a relief breakdown than anything. It had hit him rather hard that he was fianlly, truly safe and free. He didn't know how to deal with it, so the breakdown occurred. It took more than a week for Shelby to help him get back on his feet after that; he had been physically weak from not eating anything in over two months, and his body wasn't used to food. Getting him to the point where he could keep food in his stomach was a difficult job in itself.
For days, Shelby stayed at Questa's side. And for days the safehouse was filled with the sounds of Questa screaming and crying in anguished pain; when he wasn't screaming or crying, he was throwing up what little food Shelby had managed to convince him to eat.
Early one morning after a particularly long night, while Shelby was soothingly wiping Questa's forehead and neck with a cool, soft cloth, Questa had asked a simple but difficult to answer question.
"Why do you care so much to help me like dis? You're like Florence Nightingale or somethin'."
And Shelby had smiled at him, eyes dancing in the dim light, and said, "Same reason I went to Seattle and killed those five men, Questa." She leaned over and dropped a light kiss on his forehead. "I love you."
"Yeah...but why?" Questa pressed.
"Because you're you, mon amour." Shelby laughed in return. Growing serious in a heartbeat, she said softly, "You're special, whether you know it or not."
Finally, after ten days of fighting with Questa's disobedient stomach, he was able to keep down things like toast, crackers and soup without it coming back up a little while later or causing him immense pain. By the time June 14 had rolled around, Questa was able to get out of bed and join the rest of his family downstairs for short amounts of time. He was very weak, and only made the attempt at going down the large staircase twice, but the idea that he could if he wanted to was a nice one.
On the evening of June 14, Questa and Shelby were surprised by a knock on the former's bedroom door. That knock was quickly followed by the door banging open and three thieves making a very wobbly attempt at maneuvering the large television, the TV stand and the DVD player into the room. Shelby and Questa, who were sitting on the bed opposite each other playing cards, stared at Emil, Claude and Genard as if they were a circus act.
"Y'know..." Questa observed with a small laugh...the first laugh anyone other than Shelby had heard from him in months. "It would prob'ly be easier to do dat if you had de others helpin' you."
"Prob'ly." Claude chuckled. "But dey t'ink dis is a crazy idea an' we don', so dey ain' helpin' us."
"What, exactly, are you doing, anyway?" Shelby questioned, scrambling off the bed to move the chair so they wouldn't trip over it.
"We t'ought since Questa has a hard time gettin' downstairs to watch movies wit' us dese days...we'd bring de movies to him instead." Genard explained as he and Claude got the television in a good position and plugged it in, while Emil set the DVD player on the chair and went back downstairs for some movies.
"You guys didn' have to go t'rough all dis trouble for me..." Questa said quietly.
"We know." Emil said, returning with his hands full of different movies. "But we wanted to. You been so miserable de past few months, an' we couldn' t'ink of any other way to make you feel even a little better." He handed the movies to Questa, who set them on the bed without giving them much of a glance.
"We don' have time to watch all'a dese, Lapin..."
Emil rolled his eyes. "Duh, man. But we do have time to watch a couple of dem. You pick."
Questa looked at Shelby. "You pick one, I pick one?"
"Sure." Shelby agreed and they started going through the pile of DVDs. After several minutes, Shelby had picked out a Guild favorite, Moulin Rouge, and Questa chose The Emperor's New Groove, which he and Emil had watched several dozen times and never got tired of.
The five of them settled in to watch the movies, joined by Bella Donna and Singer, who were tired of the monopoly marathon going on in the living room downstairs. Shelby moved up and sat beside Questa, who was leaning against the pillows and headboard of his bed. She snuggled under the comforter with him and in return, he rested his head on her shoulder, enjoying the simple pleasure of just being close to her. The others seated themselves in various positions and seats around the room, each getting comfortable in his or her own way. They laughed their way through The Emperor's New Groove, but when it was over, everyone noticed what Shelby had known since the movie was half over.
Questa was sound asleep.
"Ohhhh..." Claude whispered. "Shel, why didn' he say he was tired? We could've saved dis for another night when he was more up to it."
"I know, guys, don't worry about it." Shelby whispered back to them. "He appreciated it, trust me. He's always tired these days, that's just part of trying to get better. Next time he'll probably be able to sit through the whole movie. But just not yet. He has to take everything one step at a time, that's one thing we've learned since I got back. He's not well yet, remember."
Their five friends nodded. They all knew what Shelby said was the truth. Bella Donna glanced at the now quiet television and set the remote on the small table beside Questa's bed. "We can leave dat up here for de night...maybe he'll feel up to watchin' a cartoon or somethin' in de mornin'."
"Thank you. I think he'd like that." Shelby smiled. "G'night, guys." She said as they filed out of the room as quietly as possible. They didn't want to disturb Questa's rest. Little did any of them know that it wasn't people that would be causing problems for Questa that night, but rather his memories.