Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Immortality ❯ Treating the Sick ( Chapter 6 )

Immortality

 

By. DemonGirl-Setsuna

 

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DemonGirl-Setsuna: Hi there! Setsuna here!

 

I have one hell of an Evil Streak!

 

I can torment characters that I like with no remorse, yet it always helps the story along…

I'm just weird that way!

 

But my Muses are slacking-off again! Youka; being in-charge of the blood and violence department, has gone onto vacation because there hasn't been any fight scenes, Yet…

 

And, Ninka; being in-charge of the romance and fluff department, is constantly being put on hold by Ritalin_writer.

I try to write a fluff-scene and Ritalin is always saying, `Dietrich wouldn't react like that…' Yes, I quoted her.

 

So, I shouldn't blame my Muses… I should blame Ritalin and her love for Carrot-Cake!

 

Anyway, let's forgot about my ranting for now!

 

And, for the record; Vincent's cold symptoms are the same as the cold I had last month.

 

Here is Chapter 6!

 

Please Enjoy!

 

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy.

 

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Ch. 6

 

Treating the Sick

 

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Two Hours Later…

 

 

 

Vincent slowly blinks open his crimson eyes, wincing against the brightness invading his vision, but before he could adjust to the light, he breaks out into a fit of harsh-coughs.

 

When his coughing subsided, his throat felt raw and sore as he reopens his eyes slowly to allow them to adjust to the light, he slowly scans the room, but he sees no-one in the room with him.

 

`What time is it?', he mentally asks himself, glancing over at his clock.

 

The clock read; 1:13pm.

 

`Crap! I over-slept!', he screams in his head, as he quickly sat up.

 

The damp face-cloth falls into his lap as he holds a hand to his fore-head, a bout of dizziness made the room spin making him waver as he tries to remain up-right.

 

`What is wrong with me?', he wonders, as he flops back down onto his pillow with the back of his hand resting on his forehead.

 

His body felt uncomfortably hot, sweat coating every inch of his skin, and his whole body ached, as he panted for breath.

 

He starts to kick his blankets from his body in an attempt to cool off.

 

“You shouldn't do that while you're sick, you'll only make your cold worst”, Dietrich advises, walking into the room with the newly ice-filled water-bottle in her hands.

 

Vincent opens his mouth to voice his complaint, his lips form the words but nothing comes out, except as a whisper not even his ears could hear, but the effort made his throat ache more.

 

He visibly winces and clutches his throat in pain, as he tries to swallow and it only makes the pain worst, he could only whimper without feeling pain.

 

“You've been coughing for the past three-hours in your sleep, no wonder you're throat is raw and hurts”, she says, placing the water-bottle beneath his head.

 

He could only glare at her angrily as he couldn't speak at the moment.

 

Dietrich puts a hand onto his forehead to check his fever, “Hmm, your fever is still pretty high…”, she mutters, loud enough for Vincent to hear her.

 

`Has Dietrich been taking care of me?', he thinks.

 

“Lucrecia came to check up on you an hour ago”.

 

`Lucrecia too…', he thought, as darkness crept in on him as his energy left him and he fell asleep again.

 

“Poor guy, so sick he can't even stay awake for ten minutes…”, she whispers, shaking her head as she rewets the cloth in the basin of cold water and places it back onto his forehead.

 

 

 

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An Hour Later…

 

 

 

 

Vincent awakens in a fit of coughs.

 

`Damn, I've never been this sick before in my life…', he mentally says to himself, still not able to speak yet as his throat throbs in pain.

 

He slowly, yet carefully climbs out of bed, trying not to cause himself lightheadedness as he puts his feet onto the floor. But as he raises to stand on them, his legs refused to hold his weight and he collapses to the floor, leaning against the side of his bed.

 

His red eyes were half-closed in exhaustion as he pants for air.

 

`Damn it…!', he curses in his head.

 

He musters what he could of his energy and using his bed as a brace to stand onto his shaky legs, he cautiously walks; on legs that threatened to give at anytime, into his bathroom.

 

A few minutes later, he just leans on the bathroom doorframe, trying to catch his breath.

 

`Why is it so hard to breath?', he wonders, still panting.

 

Vincent pushes himself off the doorframe and stumbles back towards his bed, but when he is halfway there, his knees give out from underneath him and he collapses to the floor completely, resting his sprawled-out body on the soft carpet as he once again tries to catch his breath.

 

He could feel his body become drenched in sweat from his efforts.

 

`How could a cold be this bad...? I can barely move without becoming winded…!'

 

His felt his eyelids become heavy from exhaustion and as they slowly fell closed, he could see the red high-healed shoes of the scientist he fell in love with.

 

“Vincent, you shouldn't be out of bed”, Lucrecia says to him, as he slowly lost consciousness.

 

`Lu…Lucrecia…', he thinks, a small smile gracing his lips as his eyes completely close before he fell limp, having lost complete consciousness.

 

 

 

 

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Three Hour Later…

 

 

 

Vincent regains consciousness to find himself back in his bed, safely tucked-in. He notices the right-sleeve of his pajamas was rolled up and a light bandage was wrapped around it, under the bandage his arm was sore.

 

`What happened to my arm?', he wonders, not trying to sit up, having learned his lesson to not try moving from his bed.

 

“Well, look who decided to join us in the world of consciousness?”, Dietrich taunts, walking into the room with a fresh glass of cold orange-juice, “I warned you not to try getting up while you're sick, but you didn't listen”.

 

He could only tiredly glare at the younger Turk, as he barely had the energy to glare at her at all.

 

“Probably wondering what happened to your arm, right?”

 

He simply nods weakly.

 

“Lucrecia had to draw some blood to find out what is wrong with you, no one has ever been this weak from a cold”, she explains, “She's still in the lab testing your blood”.

 

Suddenly, the afore-mentioned woman walks in holding in her hands the results from Vincent's blood-tests.

 

“I can't believe it!”, the scientist mutters, staring at the paper in shock disbelief.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

“You won't believe this, but Vincent has a low extremely low lymphocyte count!”

 

“You mean he barely has an immune-system to fight off diseases?”

 

The older woman nods, “Yes, he'll need to be on an IV-drip until he's better”, Lucrecia turns towards Vincent, “That means bed-rest for you until then, understand?”

 

Vincent could only give her a helpless look that meant, `What about my mission to protect you?', as he slowly sat up before he broke into a fit of coughs.

 

“Don't worry, I'll protect her till you're better”, Dietrich says, reading his expression as she hands him the glass of orange-juice, “Here, drink up. The vitamin C will do you some good”.

 

He slowly drinks it, forcing himself not to cough it back up as the orange-juice burns and stings the back of his raw throat, but he couldn't hide the look of pain on his face.

 

(A/N: It really stings like a bitch!)

 

Lucrecia had to bite her bottom-lip to prevent herself from crying at the pain Vincent was in.

 

When he is finished with the juice, he coughs trying to get rid of the burning in his throat.

 

“Feeling a little better?”, Dietrich asks.

 

“…Yes…”, Vincent weakly says, his voice barely above a low whisper.

 

“At least your voice is returning, almost…”

 

Vincent doesn't answer as he just flops backwards onto his pillow, completely passed-out to the world.

 

“Again, poor guy barely has the energy to do anything, let alone stay awake”, she mutters, shaking her head as she retrieves the glass from where it fell, “He's hopeless…”, she adds to herself, `But I'm worried, his lymphocyte-count shouldn't be that low even for a gentic-defect. Unless Hojo is behind the extremely low count!', she thinks, disliking the mad-doctor more.

 

 

 

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DemonGirl-Setsuna: Well? What did you think? Please review!

 

*Grinning like a mad-woman* I'm evil!

It is Way Too easy to pick on characters!

But it does show a weak-side to Vincent, and I'm going to use it to my advantage!

Also, his little immunity problem adds to the plot I have planned for him!

*Grins behind her fists* I am So Evil!

 

Ritalin_writer: *Monotoned* What are you doing Setsuna?

 

Setsuna: *Falls out of her computer-chair* Whha! Ritalin, I didn't hear you come in!

 

Ritalin_writer: That's because you're wearing head-phones…

 

Setsuna: *Nervously laughs* You're right…

 

Join us when I post the next Chapter!

 

Catch you readers next time!