Seeing Red
x.X.x.X.x.X.x
Wide amethyst eyes stare down at shaking hands, those eyes only seeing the crimson dripping from his quivering fingers and onto the stained cement floor at his feet. He's sitting back on his legs, knees just at the edge of a puddle, black in color from the lack of moonlight reaching to it. Tresses as red as wine fall around his face and down to his slim waist, tangled and caked with the same blood that's on the floor.
His vision is shaking as bad as his hands and his mind is reeling, going round and round at a mile a minute. A migraine pounds at his head but all he can hear is the steady beat of his heart and only his heart. He sees only the ones he wishes he can't and not the many that swarm around him.
Three mean are dead against the back wall, their silver hair and black outfits showing the blood evident on their bodies. A fourth is slumping down the wall in front of the redhead as a dark haired man slips further to him, the flashlight held securely with his gun flashing over the crimson locks. The man's finger leaves the trigger, confident with the three bullets being able to keep that twisted silver haired man down.
He doesn't feel the man's hand as it falls onto his shoulder, soft yet deep whispers fluttering into his ear but not quite making a connection in his brain. He just can't, not while his eyes slowly lift from his hands and to the body lying before him, stretched out and bare as that criminal had left him. Pale blue eyes look up at him, dull and lifeless, while flaxen spikes are dirty and flaked with his own blood. Tear tracks are still visible over the dirt smudged face, making him feel like he could do nothing to keep those tears from falling.
Truth is … he couldn't.
Another dark haired man yells to the one beside the redhead, "Take him to the hospital Vincent. Stay with him and see what you can do. I'll meet you there later."
He's barely able to lift his face as this Vincent scoops him up in his arms, the blaring of ambulances and more patrol cars sounding down the dirt road to this hidden cabin and storage shed. His head leans against Vincent's chest and, finally, he can hear something other than his own heartbeat. The steady rise and fall of this man's chest coupled with the strong arms around his weak frame help the paranoia and pure fear melt away from the forefront of his mind.
Large hands begin to pull at his arms and legs, trying to take him away from this security blanket and he refuses to let it go now that he's found it again. One of his hands grasps at the lean man's shirt, desperately trying to gain himself a few spare seconds to get the words to crawl from his throat. His other reaches up to cup at a pale cheek, a sorrowful smile on his lips as his fingers leave bloody streaks on this man's face. "I'm … I'm so sorry Cloud. I'm sorry."
Yet as he blinks and the EMTs push him back down on the stretcher he realizes he has been mistaken. Where he saw blonde spikes are shortly cropped dark brown hair. Sky blue eyes are no longer as they fade back into maroon orbs set deep into a sharply angled face, hard and worn from the sights they've seen. He's made an error, but it doesn't matter as he closes his eyes, allowing the exhaustion to take over.
He apologized. He doesn't want to see the images anymore and he thinks they'll go away if only he was to apologize … if only he could stop seeing the red foggy his vision as the love of his life had died right before his eyes.
x.X.x.X.x.X.x
Vincent slouches back against the light blue chair, the waiting room never having been more quiet. Temptation to fall asleep ebbs at him constantly, his weary body begging for time to recuperate after the demanding manhunt. However, something keeps him awake and alert to any nurse or doctor that happens to walk by.
Fear that this man, this friend he's just saved, won't remember him is terrifying and keeps the urge to sleep at bay. He's sure that if Tseng gets here before the Doctor, he'll be ordered to go home and simply return first thing in the morning.
He had followed the ambulance straight here and found this chair instantly, only sparing time to go wash the blood from his face and to strip the navy suit jacket from his torso, leaving only his white button up shirt. Vincent lets his slender fingers reach up and comb through the right bang of deep brown hair, which almost appears black in the absence of direct light.
He cups his face in his hands as he hears footsteps nearing his secluded waiting room. Not in the least had he expected that psycho to target his own partner, someone of the team to stop him. It wasn't in his profile, his behavior. They – no – he had miscalculated and Reno is hurt because of it.
Vincent raises his head as the Doctor comes to a stop just to the side of him. He stands up, swallowing hard but silently as he expects only the worse to be true.
x.X.x.X.x.X.x
"Reno?"
The redhead turns his gaze, the white t-shirt billowing around his slim build. "Cloud?"
The blonde smiles at him, yet keeps his distance at the same time. "Go back Reno. I'm fine."
"I'm sorry."
"I know." A gentle pause only broke by Cloud's whisper-like sigh. "I'm sorry I hurt you. But, you need to let someone save you for once."
x.X.x.X.x.X.x
The first thing he's met with is the harshness of the lights scalding the room he's been placed in. Thankfully he gets one all his own, enough space for him and his thoughts. He can feel the gauze wrapping tightly around his skin and he can hear the insistent beeping of the machines placed beside him. If he could, he'd take a baseball bat to them in a second.
All the doctors and nurses leave his side and he watches the door shut, turning his gaze to the side as regret seems to wash over him in waves.
He regrets working with the bureau. He regrets dating Cloud and having him get caught up in the middle of this god awful case. He regrets letting Cloud die and not being able to do a damn thing to stop it, if only for a moment.
He can't, however, find himself regretting being saved by his partner, his best friend on most days. The need for love from that person only being satiated when he felt the arms of his secret love wrapping around his body. He's sorry, sorry to Cloud that he couldn't give him the love he needed. Sorry to himself that he couldn't ever find the guts to just break it off and talk to Vincent.
A sigh slips from his chapped lips. 'What a Monday...' being the only thought left in Reno's mind.
He stares at the white door, the blinds tilted to where people can see into his room but he can't see out. This fact bugs him but he lets it slide as the dark haired investigator walks through the door. Reno refuses to admit that the sight of this man brings butterflies to his stomach or his eyes seeing red as passion and lust burn through him like wildfire.
"You okay?"
"Ha, like that could kill me, Reno! Don't you know me better than that Vinny?" Vincent bows his head slightly, coming to sit down on the edge of his bed, careful of the tubes. "Thanks for the help though." he lets battle against his clenched jaw, not wanting to let the emotion out.
Vincent locks their eyes together, something rarely done between them, his hand coming down on the other side of Reno to brace himself against the bed. "I'm sorry about Cloud." Before he can speak, Vincent presses his lips against Reno's with a surprising softness. "But you're welcome Re."
Reno grabs at Vincent's wrist as he goes to stand, keeping the other man in place as he pushes their lips together again, ignoring the sting of pain from his own coming in contact with another mouth. The obnoxious beeping is all that echos in the stark white room as their pulse speeds up in their ears, skin slightly flushed with excitement.
"Can I get you anything?" Vincent stands back up instantly, not wanting to alert the doctors to a sudden spike in the redhead's readings. Reno barely nods before Vincent is to the door, having not waited for an answer. "I'll go get you some water."
As Vincent walks out of the room, the door shutting softly behind him, Reno lets a small smile lift at his bruised lips. He's lost a boyfriend of five years but saved a friendship of twelve. Only by that loss is he able to achieve a stronger love, something he only realizes as Vincent returns and takes his place by his side, their fingers lacing together in a comfortable silence as the brunet lifts the plastic cup to his mouth.
Work will prove to be difficult in the future.
x.X.x.X.x.X.x
This is the 34th installment of my oneshot project. I'm jumping around pairings. ^^ But it can't be helped really. Anyways, it was also for a Reno contest on dA.
Turk!Vincent / Reno - aren't they cute?
It's vague and a little rushed, I know. 2 hours was how long it took me on 3 hours of sleep. Bare with the errors. Sorry.
Whatcha think though? I'd love to hear. . Even though I'm still confuzzled by this new system this place has gotten.