Star Ocean: Till The End Of Time Fan Fiction ❯ The Creator's Desire ❯ Chapter 6 ( Chapter 6 )

It was the ticking of the clock that drove Luther crazy. Every tick of the hand, every second, sounded off loud and clear in the waiting room. He had successfully removed all traces of the Executioners from the Eternal Sphere, but he had not had any luck in repairing the damage caused by his anti-virus devices. The program had become too overloaded with anomalies for him to be able to fix anything, though Luther supposed it hardly mattered any more. If his time with Fayt had been any indication, and it had, the Eternal Sphere was very much alive and evolving. The inhabitants in the damaged zones would find ways to repair and overcome the destruction wrought upon them. They would be that determined. If they were not, well, they would die senselessly.

 

Luther glanced at the clock then sighed. A mere ten minutes had passed since his arrival. It was ten minutes longer that he had gone without seeing or touching his lover. It was ten minutes more that he had not been able to kiss Fayt and hold the younger man close. Those ten minutes had been agonizing, like an eternity was passing him by.

 

The restlessness of Fayt's friends echoed Luther's sentiments. They wanted their comrade to be brought out and into a recovery room so they could see him, to make sure that Fayt would live. His lover meant as much to them as he did to Luther, and the blond-haired man did not blame them one bit for hanging around.

 

No one glanced in Luther's direction, though. The small group did not dare. They knew, or at least understood, he would not tolerate any accusatory looks about Fayt's condition to be cast in his direction. He would defend his actions of taking Fayt away from them with the fervor of a zealot. Fayt belonged to him and no one else. They possessed no idea as to how long he had waited and searched for the blue-haired youth. Luther would not give his lover up without a fight, and he would carry out the necessary actions to guarantee the green-eyed man's survival. He continued to stare at the clock, willing someone to come out and let him know how Fayt was doing.

 

“Excuse me . . .”

 

The moment he heard an unfamiliar feminine voice, Luther turned away from the clock and towards the one who had spoken. As he did so, Luther noticed Fayt's friends also glancing in the speaker's direction. A woman in a white nursing uniform stood in the doorway. There were bloodstains on her clothing, and Luther felt his heart drop. He had healed Fayt to the best of his abilities. The younger man should have had a fighting chance!

 

“Excuse me,” she said, “but are you here for Fayt Leingod?”

“We are,” Luther replied before anyone else had a chance to say anything. He could already sense the sarcastic reply Albel Nox had waiting for the woman. “How is he?”

 

“He is resting comfortably at this time,” the nurse answered. A tiny smile touched upon her features. “We expect a full recovery out of him.”

 

“That's good to hear,” Maria said, relief evident in her tone. “When can we see him?”

 

“He is being transported to a post-op room right now. You can go visit him at any time, but we ask that you keep your stay brief,” the nurse said. “Fayt inhaled a lot of smoke. He will tire easily because of it.”

 

“Thank you,” Luther murmured. A sense of relief washed over him at hearing the nurse's proclamation. “Where can we find him?”

 

“At the end of the hall, turn left to the transport area. You'll want the one on the right. It will take you down to the next floor, which the fifth level. He's in room five-eighteen.” The nurse paused for a second then continued. “Please know he took quite a beating in whatever skirmish took place. There's a great deal of bruising . . .”

 

The rest of the nurse's words were lost on Luther for he had already brushed by her and out of the room. He was not worried about bruising or even any slight disfiguring of features from any swelling caused by the bruising. In his mind, the bruising and disfigurements paled in comparison to not seeing Fayt move at all or the deathly complexion Fayt had as he lay in Luther's arms. As long as Fayt still breathed and still moved, Luther would be happy.

 

Scant minutes later, he was entering his lover's room. Luther heard the sounds of the monitors and the oxygen machine as he entered, but they were secondary details to him. In the bed, just as the nurse had said he would be, lay Fayt, the last of orderlies hooking up the machinery. Vibrant green eyes opened as Luther walked into the room, and a warm smile touched those kissable, delectable lips . . .