Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Du, Du hast, Du Hasst Mich ❯ Twelve ( Chapter 12 )

Vincent woke up the next day, some time in the afternoon. If he could help it, he wouldn't go to sleep for a week once he got out of here.

He looked around. He was always very alert every time he noticed he wasn't out of the hospital.

No more machines, that was good. There were still the IVs, though. They left ugly little black marks on his wrists. There were even more from the other IVs that had been taken out, plus some of the needles had to be put back in.

He had told them they must have slipped every time they asked him, but he knew they were aware that he'd tried to pull them out with his teeth.

Damn drugs. He was sleeping half the day, spitting up all his food, constantly dizzy, slurring his speech half the time and he'd have times where he'd suddenly forget where he was. And they were supposed to make him feel better.

At least he wasn't alone. Sort of. Shera was asleep in the chair next to him. There was an open book of crosswords on top of an open novel on top of diagnostics printouts. At least she hadn't been bored.

There was a paper bag next to her, probably clothes from Cloud.

Please don't let it be a dress, Vincent though to himself. God I'm was bored, he thought, lying back down.

Now it wasn't just painful to lie there with nothing to do but throw up and sleep, but it was damn tedious. What was preventing him from throwing up or sleeping at home? Hell, he could be just as bored anywhere else.

The door opened and he sat up immediately.

It was a nurse.

"I hear you've been walking around lately. That's wonderful," she said cheerily, despite the fact that she had bandages on her fingers. "You're getting out in two days, isn't that exciting?"

No, it sounds rather boring, Vincent thought.

"Would you like some help up to use the bathroom? You're friend left you some nice new clothes, maybe you'd like to put them on."

"Yeah…" Vincent managed.

"Dr. Hayes asked me to give you some paperwork to look over and sign. I'll just leave it here on the table, is that all right?"

"Is there anyway I can get out of it?" Vincent asked.

"I'm sorry. The insurance company said they wanted a diagnosis. I'm afraid it's mandatory."

Vincent didn't say anything to her after that.

The nurse stayed cheery, even gave him his privacy while he was in the bathroom and changed, but with no way out of a meeting with a psychiatrist, he really didn't feel like talking to her anymore. He didn't feel like talking to anyone, so he didn't.

He didn't look at the paperwork until the next day, and he had trouble sleeping, despite the fact that Shera was there with him, and despite the drugs.

Vincent just read the document over and over when he was brave enough to look at it. It was nothing more than a long letter informing him of the rules during therapy; the clauses about needing the insurance notified and filed were crossed out. His finger lingered over the part about the therapist not having any sort of relations with him.

He was so engrossed with looking it over again and again, trying to find some article the ensured him it wouldn't be scary that he didn't notice Shera.

She had promised Cid to stay with Vincent, be with him so he'd eat and try to get some sleep, maybe even keep from biting people. Until he'd become absorbed in reading and rereading about his imminent therapy, he had calmed down and cheered up slightly when there was someone else with him.

"I'll be right back, I need to use the bathroom," she said.

He didn't react. He didn't notice her taking the PHS off the table and glancing over at what he was reading. He didn't even seem to notice it was his PHS.

Shera quietly made her way out into the hallway and dialed the phone number she'd seen before she forgot it.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Dr. Hayes?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"This is Shera-"

"I'm sorry ma'am. I'm not really allowed to divulge any information to you. I haven't even talked to Mr. Valentine, yet. I'm still waiting for him to fill out the papers."

"That's what I'm calling you about."

"If there are any adjustments he'd like made, I need to speak with him personally."

"No. You see… He doesn't want to sign it. It's-he's so scared. Please, he just wants to go home. He's been through so much. You have absolutely no idea. Isn't there someway-"

"Ma'am?"

"Can't you just talk to him over the phone? He doesn't want to see any more doctors; he doesn't like it here. Maybe you can talk to the insurance company. Please, he's been hurt enough-"

"Ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"I understand. Is he awake?"

"Yes. He's reading it as we speak."

"May I please speak to him?"

"… Yeah. Okay."

"Vincent?" Shera asked, going back to the room. He hadn't changed, save for turning the page. "Would you like to talk to Dr. Hayes about this? Vincent?"

He turned to her, silently dropping the papers on the bed, and took the phone.

"Mr. Valentine?"

Vincent made a small scared noise.

"Mr. Valentine, I haven't received the papers, have you signed them?"

"…No."

"Is there an article you don't agree with?"

"…No. Not really."

"Is there some sort of concern you'd like to address with me before you sign the papers?"

There was a minute of quiet from Vincent before he answered. "It… I just want to go home. Please. I don't want to go anywhere." As quiet as he was, Dr, Hayes could tell he was crying. The very idea of going to a single therapy session scared him, that was obvious to everyone.

"Mr. Valentine, it's all right. I'm just going to talk to you in an unlocked, borrowed office here at the hospital. You can go home when we're through."

"I can?"

"Yes. All the insurance company wants is a diagnosis. We're just going to sit down and talk. You don't have to answer any questions you don't want to. Any other concerns before you sign the papers?"

"No."

"Good. Now, I need those signed before we can do anything, Mr. Valentine."

She hung up and he set the phone on the bed. He smiled; ignoring Shera putting the phone back on the table.

"Do you have a pen, Shera?" he asked. He was going to go home.