It takes me falling to the ground
To admit to, fully needing you
Then when I'm breathing my last breath
"Come and save me" I will cry to you
'Cause pride has not, let me say
I am the broken
I am the bruised
I am the poor ones
I have been used

Something sharp stabbed through my consciousness. The biting smell of disinfectant. Then, I noticed the pain. A dull ache that spread throughout my body. A small groan escaped my lips as I tried to remember how to open my eyes. I heard someone shift in a chair near where I lay. Someone was with me? I opened my right eye. My left was bandaged shut. White walls, white sheets, metal bed, cheap pastel watercolors that were a pale attempt to bring color into the rooms of the dying. A hospital.

My neck was bandaged as well so I couldn't turn my head to see who kept me company. I heard a relieved sigh when the monitors measuring my vital signs read out the slight change in my heart rate and breathing, indicating that I was awake. A sigh I had heard almost all my life. When, as a child, I had strayed too far away and came back, looking at my feet as a child will do when they know they have done something wrong. When I would come back to the Shinra building without a small bruise on my cheekbone, showing that I had behaved and given my father no reason to backhand me. A voice I had grown familiar with. Tseng.

My voice was hoarse as I spoke. "How bad is it?" Tseng answered without hesitation, one of the things I liked about him. He didn't try to spare me. "A few broken ribs, cuts and scrapes, burns, damage to your left eye, and your right hip was almost shattered and required surgery." I tried to take a deep breath, almost gasping at the pain that erupted in my lungs. I felt Tseng's hand on my arm. "Take it easy, sir. You inhaled quite a bit of smoke." I nodded mutely, then a question jumped to the forefront of my mind. "You got me out, didn't you?" Tseng's hand remained a comforting weight on my arm. "Yes, sir." I smiled very slightly as I closed my good eye again. "Thank you, Tseng." I could have sworn I felt his hand gently brush over my hair, but maybe that was just a pleasant dream.

It had been almost a week since I left the hospital. My ribs were completely healed and the burns and cuts were gone, though I would bear the large dark scars of them on my torso and hip for the rest of my life. My damaged eye was most certainly going to remain blind when the bandages came off, with a few small white burn scars to remind me off how this came to be. The few Turks who remained in Midgar were at Healin Lodge, as was I. I sat in the wheelchair I was to be confined to until my hip healed. The view from the balcony was spectacular, scoping the mountainside and valley below. But, I found little pleasure in it. Shinra was being blamed for a new crisis that had arisen. Geostigma.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard footsteps behind me. "Sir, it's getting cold out. You should be inside. Your lungs haven't fully recovered from smoke inhalation yet." I sighed softly. "Very well, Tseng." I allowed myself to be humiliated further as Tseng pushed the wheelchair inside. Once in my room he stopped the chair a few steps from the bathroom and went to draw a bath for me. He came back out a few minutes later and helped me get my shoes, socks, jacket, vest, and outer shirt off. Then he helped me to my feet. He wouldn't allow me to limp more than a few steps at a time, thought the doctor had given me permission to walk a little, when I felt up to it, to prevent paralysis. I limped into the bathroom and started unbuttoning my shirt.

I froze as I stared into the mirror. A thick black substance had spread itself over my right shoulder and part of my chest, working it's way down my arm. A choked gasp escaped my lips. I was dying. Where the fire hadn't succeeded, this disease would. Because there is no cure for Geostigma.