Dance of Desire

Another yell and he turned to see the fourth man heading for him. Crying out with the effort, Frankie kicked out a strong leg and swept the man right off his feet.

Cam was there in an instant, grabbing the man's jacket and heaving him to his feet and against the wall. He didn't even turn around as he heard the third set of footsteps running away.

"I think I should kill you now. I can think of no reason not to, you piece of shit."

"Please," the man begged, snivelling as Cam dragged him up, his head bouncing none too lightly off the wall.

"Four against one is good, but you don't like it when someone fights back, No?"

The man's knees started to buckle again so Cam just shoved him away with a sound of disgust. "Fuck off," he demanded and turned his attention to Frankie.

Frankie had dragged himself up to his hands and knees. He may not be a brawler, but he knew the ground was not a good place to be in a fight. He was hovering there now. One hand pressing against his crotch. Blood dripping from his nose and flooding down one side of his face.

Cam skidded to his knees beside him. "How bad? Frankie, tell me how bad?"

"Ribs, maybe. Kicks. Shit, give me a minute," Frankie gasped through gritted teeth, shaking his head to try and clear the blood.

"Wait, I need my phone," Cam scrambled away and was back a moment later, digging his phone out of his bag.

"No ambulance."

"Jesus, Frankie."

"No!"

"Okay, wait," Cam pulled his phone out. "I need to see." He switched on the light and examined Frankie closely. Relieved to see the head wound was actually a lot of blood from a small cut.

Frankie had sat back on his heels now, his hand pressed lightly against his stomach. "What are you doing here?"

"You forgot your keys, your phone. Here put your jacket on." When Frankie shook his head, Cam draped the jacket over his shoulders.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"My mother died when I was twelve. I spent the next two years mostly living on the streets in Naples. Running errands for one of the local gangs." He saw Frankie's eyes widen in horror.

"I didn't know. I'm so sorry, Cam."

"Is okay."

"No it's not!"

Cam sighed. "I think we should have this discussion another time? This alleyway smells bad. What made them attack you?"

"Too gay. Too black." Frankie shrugged then winced. "Pick one," he finished, painfully.

Cam didn't know what to say. "Shall I lift you?" he asked instead.

"No, no, no. Just let me," Frankie shuddered as he reached for Cam's arm. "Let me get myself up."

It took a full five minutes, and at one point Cam thought Frankie was going to throw up, but finally he was unsteadily on his feet.

"Can I support your waist?" Cam asked.

Frankie considered for a moment. "Other side. I'm not sure about my ribs here."

"Shit."

"Yep."

Cam carefully pulled Frankie close, giving him as much support as he could. "My place is closer," he said as they limped from the alleyway. Frankie just nodded.

The five minute walk took twenty, and Cam apologized for the lack of a lift, but Frankie made it painfully up the three floors. His legs gave out as they entered the flat. Cam swept him up and quickly crossed the small room depositing him gently on the couch.

It hadn't escaped Cam's notice that Frankie had been uncharacteristically quiet on the walk over. Silent, in fact. Other than the jagged breathing. And silent was concerning.

He knelt now, pulling Frankie's blood splattered jacket free and chucking it on the floor. Frankie just sat. Awkward and breathing carefully through gritted teeth. His eyes closed.

"Frankie?"

Nothing. Only an sense of withdrawal.

"Okay, I need to get you cleaned up."

Cam quickly gathered all he needed and hurried back to Frankie. Starting with the cut on his head, which was starting to clot, he cleaned and dried the wound and carefully placed a small bandage. "It's not so bad. Do you feel sick, dizzy? Frankie?" He got the slightest head shake in response.

"Okay, we clean this up," he continued to murmur as he repeatedly rinsed and wrung the cloth. Going back for clean warm water and gently wiping off the blood. "I don't think your nose is broken. Is your breathing okay?" A slight nod. Cam sighed and fetched more clean water.

"Come on, let's get this off," he winced in sympathy with Frankie as he slowly peeled off the tight tank, soaked with blood down one side. Frankie moaned slightly and Cam glanced up, concerned by his drawn face.

He murmured nonsense, along with a description of what he was doing, as he cleaned the blood from Frankie's chest and torso, where bruising was already coming out. Finally his hands and wrists, where Frankie had tried to wipe the blood away.

He considered as he gently patted the last of the moisture from Frankie's skin. He was still sat, so quiet and still. Like breathing hurt, but also like a deer caught in headlights. Like he was afraid to be seen.

Thinking of how vulnerable Frankie must feel, Cam reached over to a clean pile of laundry on the chair behind him and grabbed a soft, worn T-shirt. "Let's put this on, it'll be a little big," he murmured, as he carefully tugged the shirt over Frankie's head and guided his arms in. "That's better now? Si! That's better now."

At a total loss, as to what to do next, Cam swallowed down a lump in his throat. Still half kneeling on the couch, from where he had helped with the T-shirt, Cam leaned over and placed his lips gently to Frankie's hair.

Frankie shattered.

With a wheezing keening sound he dragged air painfully into his lungs and loosened it in a heart wrenching cry. Before collapsing into Cam's arms. Sobbing out his pain, and terror, and grief.

All Cam could do was hold on.

-X

The next morning, Cam opened the door with some relief to Robbie. "Thanks for coming over."

"Where is he?" Robbie interrupted.

"Asleep," Cam said and showed Robbie to the bedroom. Watching nervously as he stood and considered for a few moments before coming back out and closing the door.

"I won't wake him yet. Was he sick?"

"No, he was really upset and it seemed like he might be sick, but I think that was from the shock and because he was so upset. He," Cam broke off and gathered himself. "Um, he was crying so hard he was choking. It was like he was choking. It scared me. But then suddenly he just went limp, like he was exhausted."

"Did he pass out?"

"No. It was another hour before he finally went to sleep. He just lay there. I was holding him and he just lay there staring for an hour. Then he whispered, 'thank you' and went to sleep. I should have called you last night. I called you this morning because I wanted him to feel safe and have a friend here, but I should have called you last night."

"Hush," Robbie rubbed his arm. "He knows he's safe with you. It's fine. Did you give him any pain relief?"

"Paracetamol. About 1am. But four pills. He wanted four. I'm sorry."

"That's fine. That's okay. He hates taking medication so he must have felt bad." Robbie gripped Cam's arms. "Hey, don't look so worried. He'll be alright."

"It's my fault."

"Don't be silly, Cam. How could a gang of thugs be your fault."

"We had a fight. I said something. Bad, I think. Frankie walked out. He was upset, he must have walked right into them. It was my fault."

Robbie turned Cam now and perched him on a bar stool. Sitting opposite and smiling reassuringly. It hadn't escaped his notice that Cam's English was not as fluent as it usually was. "It's not your fault, Cam, What did you say?"

"I don't know. I complain, when I get upset. When it's not going right. I complain. I said, about his arms. I shouldn't have because it was me not him. Frankie was dancing well, it was me that was fucking up."

"What did you say about his arms?" Robbie asked patiently.

"That they were like ape arms." He looked worried at Robbie's jerk of shock. "Is bad?"

Robbie huffed out a sigh and ran his hand over his own short, springy dreds. "It's not great, Cam. Why would you say that?"

"I say to Beth. Frankie said she should kick me in the balls. It's rude, I know, but it hurt him and I don't understand why. And then he ran away because he was angry and got hurt. It's my fault."

Robbie rubbed a hand over his face now, before raising it to halt Cam's rising excitement. "Cam. Please. This is not your fault. But, Beth, where was she raised?"

"She is from Ethiopia, but moved to India when she was twelve. Then Europe when seventeen. Beth is for Bethlehem. Her parents are very religious."

Robbie's smile bloomed. "Short for Bethlehem? I didn't know that." He considered. "I guess she has different experiences. Has she ever kicked you in the balls?"

"On purpose? No. I don't think." Cam look slightly unsure and Robbie snorted, amused.

"Cam. As a black guy who was a black kid growing up in the UK, I can tell you. None of us get through school without dickheads in the playground making monkey noises at us."

He waited for Cam to catch up. "Monkey like the ape? Why?"

"Because they're dickheads. It's a common racist taunt."

"Is stupid."

"Yes."

"I don't understand it."

"Good." Robbie said simply and then took Cam's arms again as horror dawned on his face, "Cam."

"He thinks?"

"No he doesn't."

"Frankie thinks I am a racist."

"No he doesn't. I promise you he doesn't. You'd had a long day and you pushed a button, that's all."

Cam subsided back onto the stool. "I was careless with him," he said sadly. Robbie nodded. "And because of that, he got hurt."

"Stop it," Robbie gave him a quick shake. "You are not responsible for Frankie getting hurt. Any more than Frankie is responsible for not concentrating and taking a short cut when he should have known better. Am I being clear?" He addressed the last part over Cam's shoulder, and he turned to see Frankie standing in the doorway.

"Clear," Frankie said, in answer to Robbie's question and even managed to smile a little when Cam rushed over.

"Frankie, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay."

"It's not. I."

"Cam," Frankie painfully took Cam's face. Cam gently took his hands and lowered them to a more comfortable position. "You're such a sweetie. You don't even really understand what you said."

Cam frowned and looked at the floor. "I think I understand. I think," he raised his eyes. "I think I should talk to Beth?"

Frankie squeezed his fingers, a real smile blooming. "Yes. At some point you should. She's a classy lady, it'll be alright. Don't worry."

Cam nodded, still sad. "I will, talk with her. I'm sorry this happened. I had lots of fun, I think we would have had more. Maybe we can talk more, be friends, when we meet on the circuit?"

Frankie gave him a gentle tap on the chest and a glare. "You're talking like I'm not dancing on Monday. Trust me, I'm dancing." He started to strut towards Robbie but then staggered slightly. "Whoops. Thank you," as Cam steadied him.

Robbie caught Cam's eye and shook his head. "Sit," he instructed Frankie. "You're going to tell me what happened, have some food, a thorough examination and then a nap. Later on we'll try some yoga and if you are moving okay, we'll talk about whether it's sensible for you to even attempt to dance on Monday. Which is a decision Cam and I will make together."

"We have to rehearse."

"Not today."

"You're not the boss of me!" Frankie included Cam in the fiery glare.

"We are today," Robbie glowered.

"I'm not stripping just so you can get a load of my junk, so you can forget that, Doctor Armstrong."

Robbie leaned forward and caged Frankie in. "I'm not interested in your junk, Mister Vega-Caro. But you will be stripping off and getting checked over, or you can forget Paris." He stepped back. "David is on his way. What do you want to eat?"

Frankie subsided, "I don't think I can eat."

"Scrambled eggs then."

"I'll make them," Cam offered. "Robbie, are you a doctor? Really?"

"Yes, although I only do enough to stay qualified at the moment. My brother, David, is a private GP in London. He'll be going back to our dad's practice in the Cotswolds in a few months."

"He's had enough of London?" Frankie asked.

"More than. He's ready to go back. I need a couple more years. By which time the kids will be ready for school, and Collette will be ready to start a family and stop dancing competitively. It will work well."

"You could find another partner," Frankie suggested. Patiently allowing Robbie to shine a light in his eyes.

"No, the plan was always to join the family practice. And Mandy wants the kids in school there." He shook some pills out of a pot. "Take those and don't argue."

Frankie grimaced but took the water Cam passed to him and the pills.

"Thank you," he said, somewhat grudgingly.

"Here," Cam passed over some eggs and Frankie thanked him again before taking a cautious bite.

His eyes lit up. "This is good. You put cheese in here?"

"A little. It's good for you. Just a little."

"I like it."

There was a tap on the door and Robbie went to let his brother in. They conferred briefly and then David came over as Frankie finished the eggs.

"Hi, David. I'm sorry you got dragged over."

"No problem. You want Cam or Robbie to chaperone?"

Frankie rolled his eyes and slipped gingerly from the stool. "No. Thanks for the eggs, Cam."

"It was only two. You can have some more later."

David and Frankie disappeared back into the bedroom, leaving Cam staring at the door, chewing his lip.

"I'll have toast with my eggs," Robbie told him.

"Oh, sorry. I don't have any bread," Cam admitted.

"In the bag there, I'll make coffee."

They bustled around and companionly shared breakfast. Robbie gave up trying to distract Cam, so they discussed the dance and potential work arounds instead. It was nearly an hour later that David emerged.

"What's the verdict?" Robbie asked immediately.

"Well, he's in a lot of pain, but you already knew that. Cam, can I get some coffee?"

"Of course. Er, I haven't got any milk left."

"Black's fine. Thanks," he added gratefully as he took the mug. "His head is okay, and his nose. I think they just caught him. He doesn't even have a bruise, and no swelling with the cut on his head. You did a good job with that, Cam."

He sipped, and leaned against the counter. "There's a lot of bruising around his lower abdomen and groin. That seems to be where they were aiming the kicks. He's got a couple of beauties on his right hip and chest. Stomach's pretty sore. Frankie said they held him at first, he took some punches in the gut before he went down. Took two of the bastards to hold him though." David smiled grimly in satisfaction as he took another sip.

"He's very strong," Cam said quietly. "He looks slender, but it's deceiving."

"He said no to the police. I assume you tried?"

Cam just nodded in answer.

"Your main problem is going to be his ribs. Some bruising, but I think two cracked, on the left."

"Shit," Robbie mumbled.

"You are sure not broken?" Cam asked.

"I'm sure. It may in fact just be bad bruising, but I would stake my reputation on cracked. You're going to need to freeze pretty much his entire torso before strapping on Monday. Then get the strapping off sharpish, because he likely won't breathe properly with it in place. Don't worry," he added at Cam's worried frown. "I'll be there."

"In Paris?"

David nodded and finished his coffee. "He won't take no, in regards to dancing, so we will just have to keep him as comfortable as possible. I'll check the rules as to what I can give him. He's sleeping now though. I helped him in the shower." He grinned. "Honestly, Robbie. I thought he was going to cry when I passed over a toothbrush!"

He shrugged on his coat, "I need to arrange cover at work, and my transport. I'll pop by this evening. Robbie will give you my number, Cam. Er, I had a dig through your closet to borrow some fresh clothes, sorry about that."

"It's fine. You're coming to Paris?" Cam was still stuck on that.

David grinned, "Robbie will explain. I'll see you later." The door closed behind him.

"David and I. We would do anything for Frankie. He saved our sister's life." He paused when Cam's eyes opened wide. "I can't tell you the details, I'm sorry, it's private. But we owe him. We will owe him for the rest of our lives."

Cam digested this when Robbie also left to get some supplies, having given Cam a critical study as he passed, "You need a haircut, laddie."

He wandered into the room where Frankie was supposedly sleeping. Wondering if Frankie's actions had been heroic and action packed, or quiet and thoughtful. The man was much more complex than he had ever guessed, that was for sure.

"Hey," Frankie said quietly.

Cam sat on the bed, "You're supposed to be sleeping."

"I close my eyes, I get scared. Will you stay with me awhile?"

Cam lay down opposite. Hesitatingly reaching his hand towards Frankie, but pausing. Frankie reached out a little and linked their fingers. "Where did you sleep last night?"

"Here. Like this. I was worried in case you got sick. You should sleep. Are you comfortable?"

"I'm all floaty. Can't feel a thing. David gave me an injection. I don't really like needles, but I was brave."

"You are brave, Frankie."

"Will you stay with me?"

Cam pulled the pillow down and linked their fingers a little more firmly. "I'll stay."

-X

Cam's heart was breaking.

Sunday had passed in a blur of travel. Robbie, David and Mia had all travelled with him and Frankie. Robbie and Mia taking care of the luggage, while David and Cam had tried to keep Frankie as comfortable as possible.

Thankfully there had been no delays on the Eurostar, and once Frankie had done some very gentle yoga, and been practically drugged into sleep by David. Cam and Robbie had reviewed their dance and stripped it to the bare minimum.

An early start that morning and Frankie had quickly adapted to the new version of their dance, with a very careful walk through. Understanding that it would be dependent on flow and technical perfection, as all the flair and showy parts had been pulled out.

Cam was putting his faith in the reputation of the Paris judges for a love of old fashioned, high quality dance. But he had been concerned by the look of fear in Frankie's eyes.

Now his heart was breaking as he watched Frankie grit his teeth and hiss through the strapping of his ribs.

When Frankie impatiently wiped away a tear, Cam gave in.

"No. We are not doing this. Frankie, you can't dance."

"I can and I will."

"Frankie," David moved aside as Cam took Frankie's face in his hands. Catching another wayward tear with this thumb. "You are in too much pain, this is crazy."

Frankie's eyes were huge and damp as he took Cam's wrists, but his face was determined. "Cam. I can't let those bastards win."

Cam sighed. Then nodded. He stepped back to let David finish.

"But if you need to stop, we stop. I'm serious, Frankie."

"Okay."

"I'm done," David confirmed. "Worst part over. You must be going numb by now, surely?"

"It's better. Thanks, David."

Mia and Robbie had already danced, finishing with an score of 9.3, which guaranteed them another dance and put them in the top ten.

Mia came forward now with Frankie's costume and helped him dress. "Don't bend, I've got it."

"I'll do the shoes," Cam offered. Kneeling and checking the fit once Frankie had pushed his feet in.

"Wow, this is like having staff," he quipped. Then smiled when Cam flicked a concerned glance up at him. "It's getting better. The freeze is kicking in."

"I can give you something stronger once you've danced," David promised.

"For once I won't argue," Frankie confirmed, wincing as Mia helped him with his top.

She smoothed him down gently then stepped back. "It looks good."