Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Du, Du hast, Du Hasst Mich ❯ Six ( Chapter 6 )

Vincent screamed and clutched his side, balling up and crying from the pain. He had finally woken up.

The mask was gone, but he hadn't known it was ever there. He was acutely aware of the wires attached to pads on his chest and on his forehead.

He was covered in bandages and machines and tubes and wires and gauze. Where the hell was he? He tried not to vomit, everything reminding him of the time he spent in Hojo's lab and the nightmares-real and imaginary-he'd had there.

A nurse ran into the room and reached for him, then stopped, her fingers six inches from his face. "You're not going to bite me, are you?"

"It hurts!" was all Vincent could reply. He continued sobbing.

"Here," she said, pushing a wire connected to a button-switch into his hand. "Push that when you're in pain. Its okay. The morphine will make the pain stop."

"I don't want it," he cried.

"How about your friend? He's been worried sick over you. Would you like me to let him in?"

Vincent nodded, winced at the pain while tears streaking his face.

The nurse opened to door. He could hear her saying something all the way across the room, though he couldn't make it out. It hurt too much. The machines were too loud.

He had no idea he'd been moved to another room. He had no idea the panic and confusion going through Cid's head while trying to get a doctor to tell him where he was. When the answer came it was that he was in surgery again.

Even if he didn't know about any of it, he wasn't surprised to see Cid run through the room so fast he nearly knocked the nurse over.

"Vincent," Cid said, panting slightly.

"Oww."

"Here, take the morphine. It's okay, Vince. It's okay," Cid said as soothingly as he knew how. He pulled up a chair and sat in it backwards. "Please, it's okay." Cid wrapped his hand around Vincent's, the button still in the hand.

"No," Vincent sobbed, the only thing keeping him from weakly throwing it away was Cid's hand around his. As gently as Cid held his hand, it was too strong for Vincent's weakened state. "I hate it. I hate it. I hate the way it feels. It's… I can't move, I can't feel anything. The room spins. I've spent years on these drugs, I hate them. I don't want to take them ever again!" Vincent buried his face in the pillow and cried worse than before.

Cid said nothing. He took the button from Vincent's hand and clicked it once. He set it down and put his hand on Vincent's neck, stroking the sweat soaked and tangled hair. He did nothing else until Vincent stopped crying.

Vincent looked up from his wet pillow. "You don't hate me, do you, Cid?"

"I don't hate you," Cid whispered. "I was kinda pissed at first when you left, but then I was just worried. I'm not mad at you at all. I can't blame you for this Jenova thing, and you had better not blame yourself. You just get better, you hear?"

"I just want to go home. I don't want them to put me away. I don't want to be here." Vincent had never been to a hospital since he was born. Even when he was a Turk, the worst he'd ever suffered was a concussion or he'd wake up and professor Gast or Hojo had bandaged him up and all he had was a dull ache. That had been why he'd gotten the notes. He didn't want to be cut up without the doctors knowing how his body would react. He'd thought he'd be in pain, but nothing like this. He thought he'd sleep though it all and probably leave the same day. He'd never even seen someone in a hospital save for his friend's wife after she had given birth. The only time he'd ever felt remotely like this was when the only people who knew where he was were Hojo and any other experiments of his; only one of them was able to make the pain go away and he never seemed too concerned about it.

"You're not going anywhere. Not until they patch up that knee of yours. The want to make sure you can walk out on your own."

"No!" Vincent cried, suddenly grabbing Cid's hand with all the strength he had-needless to say it wasn't much. He didn't care what Cid had just said. He didn't believe it. "No. You can' let them. Please don't let them."

"Vince, you need it. You won't be able to walk if they don't operate."

"I don't care. I don't care if my leg turns green and rots, don't let them take it off."

"Vince, what the fuck is up with you?" Cid asked, his hand going to the button again.

"No! No, don't!"

Cid took Vincent's hand in his own two. "Vincent, you're not going to lose your leg. They promised me you wouldn't."

"It hurts. It hurts just like last time."

"Last time?"

"Cid, I already lost my arm. It was all my fault too."

"It fucking as hell wasn't."

"It was. I did it to myself. I don't want to lose my leg. Please don't let them."

"Vincent, you lost your fucking kneecap. They're going to give you a new one. You'll be fine. Everything they're going to replace will be on the inside. It'll be exactly the same and it'll look it too."

"Cid…" Vincent whispered, and then started coughing.

Cid said nothing as he propped him upright, making it easier for Vincent to breathe, rubbing his back and watching helplessly as Vincent's fit continued. Eventually the coughing gave way to deep, dry breaths on the verge of crying again.

"Your throat's dry. I'll go get you some water."

"No," Vincent whispered, gripping Cid's shirt and shaking his head. "Please don't go. I'm scared."

Cid couldn't help smiling. He took Vincent's hand off his shirt and stood up. Still Holding Vincent's hand, he turned the chair the right way around and sat back down. He moved the chair as close to the bed as he could possibly get it. He finally let go of Vincent's hand. He reached around Vincent's back, it took him a few tries to snake around and wrap his hand around Vincent's side. Everywhere hurt for Vincent, despite the morphine, one touch made him flinch and whimper.

Cid pulled Vincent as far into his lap as the IV's and wires would allow.

Vincent gripped Cid's shirt, afraid of waking up and never seeing him again, and wanting to hold something, anything but the cold, stained blanket or his pained ribs.

Cid looped the wire of the morphine machine around him and eased the button into Vincent's hand, not disturbing Vincent's grip on his dirty shirt. He hadn't changed it for days.

He patted Vincent's hand and wrapped his arms around Vincent's back.

The noises of the machines seemed to fade away, drowned in the sound of calm heartbeats and gentle breathing, occasionally interrupted by the sound of Vincent clicking the button in his hand.

Cid said nothing. He just marveled at how good it felt to have Vincent back in his arms, even like this. He just stroked his hands up and down Vincent's back, even after Vincent had fallen asleep.