Head Trauma

Summary: The jeep crashes on the way back to civilization. Morals come into play when someone they all hate is on the edge of life and death.

Notes: Switchedto Seven's POV. :3

Sorry this took so long. XD I'm not dead!

Disclaimer: I don't own 999. If I did, you'd see more of the story through Ace's POV. And he'd get more development.

Head Trauma

Chapter 4: The Fight

I had literally just fallen asleep when an earsplitting noise woke me up. My eyes snapped open, a hand instinctively reaching for the gun (or lack thereof) on my belt.

It was midnight, and Hongou was twitching and writhing on his bed, gasping for air. I ran up to him, unsure of what to do. It was eerie to see him looking at least a little alive; I was sure that he was a goner more than once since the accident.

He may have been alive, but that didn't mean he looked good. His eyes were bloodshot and hazy, confusion laced in the irises. He was screaming his throat raw, and yelling out incomprehensible phrases. I grabbed his arms and tried to restrain his thrashing body.

I should've hit the call button, but I wasn't thinking (as usual...). Instead, I was screaming at him to calm down, alerting some nearby nurses of our struggle. They came in and pried me off him, forcing me out of the room.

...well, damn.

That wasn't pleasant to see, even if it was Hongou.

It had been like this for the past few days. The old man would wake up in the middle of the night making some kinda noise, and I'd have to calm him down. Never thought I'd be murmuring somethin' comforting to Gentarou Hongou of all people – the king of bastards, the asshole tycoon himself.

But I don't got it in me to leave someone suffering alone like that. And tonight was the worst so far; he was nearly having a seizure there. The nurses warned me that that could happen, but I wasn't prepared. Damn it. Another job I suck at.

Anyway, I shuffled out of the room and decided to let the medical staff do their jobs. Man, this was probably not good. With my luck, Hongou probably has some sort of severe brain damage that'll take months to heal, if at all.

I really screwed up.

Junpei had told me not to feel guilty, but this stupid cop mentality's stubborn as a bitch. I could've grabbed them all on the way out of the crashing jeep, but I didn't. And truth is, I wasn't even thinkin' about the back. If it had been Snake or Lotus or anyone back there, I wouldn't have grabbed 'em. I would blame the lingering amnesia, but I'm the only incompetent idiot here.

After a few minutes (or hours?) of self-loathing, one of the nurses met me outside the room. "Mr. Hongou has finally calmed down," she explained quietly, "He suffered a minute seizure and nearly went into cardiac arrest."

The words hit my stomach like stones.

She shuffled through her clipboard, pointing to certain parts of it like I'd understand. "According to this MRI scan," she murmured, indicating a dark sheet of paper that I guessed was an X-Ray of Hongou's brain, "Mr. Hongou's life is in more danger than we thought. We're going to need to perform emergency surgery on the occipital and temporal lobes of his brain."

Sheesh, this medical mumbo-jumbo was confusing me. But I nodded my head and continued listening, even though I really didn't get what the hell she was saying. But even I could tell things weren't looking good.

I wondered for the first time what I'd do if Hongou died. I mean, no one would be heartbroken; the guy probably didn't even have any family or friends, and many people would be happy that the monster is gone. But I wondered, selfishly, what it would do to me.

It wouldn't be the first time a criminal would die on me, yeah, but I'd live knowing that I could have prevented this from happening, but didn't act on it.

What kind of stuff would that shit do to a man's soul?

...But enough with this philosophical crap. The nurse was staring at me like I had two heads.

"What is it?"

"We're going to have to perform the surgery tonight. There's no other way."

I nodded. "Okay... uh... I guess I can just chill in the lobby 'til you're done..."

"That's fine, but we need to discuss insurance and payment..."

Rolling my eyes, I retorted, "The guy's rich. Look up his files or something. I haven't got anything on me."

"That's fine, Mr... Yamamoto," one nurse said, using the name I gave them at the desk. Who knows – it could be my real last name.

"What are his chances?" I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets.

"If we proceed quickly... only about fifty-fifty. We're working with extremely sensitive areas of the brain, I'm afraid, and Mr. Hongou is quite damaged."

"Okay, I get it. Emergency surgery. Tonight. ...Good luck." Without saying anything more, I walked down the hall, to the elevators.

...

I didn't know what time it was in America, but I decided to call Junpei anyway. It was the middle of the night here, so he probably wasn't sleeping. After a few rings, a familiar voice sounded on the other end.

"Seven? Jeez, it has to be... like 4 am over there. What are you doing up?"

"Got some news."

"...is Hongou dead?"

"No! Jeez, why is that your first thought?"

"...Well, I mean, that's the whole reason you're still over there, and you called in the middle of the night. You used to be a detective – think, what would those factors tell you?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I replied, "Okay, okay, I get it. But I'm tired as fuck, and my head's still fuzzy, so forgive me if I'm not as sharp as I used to be. Anyway," I took a deep breath, "It does have to do with Hongou, though. I mean, he's not dead, but he might be. He's goin' into surgery, and there's a fifty-fifty chance of survival."

Junpei grew quiet. "...damn," he murmured after a few moments, "I didn't really realize how serious it was."

"Yeah. You still think I shouldn't feel guilty?"

"Seven, it's not your faul-!"

"Shut up, kid. Sugarcoat it all you like, but I fucked up, and someone's payin' the price."

"..."

"Thought so."

"So, why did you call me?"

I sighed. "Dunno. I'm stuck here while the old bastard's in surgery, so I figured I may as well call someone. How is everyone else?"

"Well, we all sort of went our separate ways after the plane landed. But everyone got here safely..."

"...Good."

"Yeah. I don't know if I'm gonna go back to college, though. There's something more important on my mind right now."

"...Junpei, you're not thinkin' of chasing after her, are you?" He couldn't be that stupid, could he? Akane Kurashiki clearly wasn't the sweet little girl he remembered, and she clearly didn't want anything to do with him. Why waste your life tracking down a girl who doesn't want to see your face again?

"I have to, Seven. I... I love Kanny."

The kid probably didn't even know what love was. Then again, did any of us? Ugh, more philosophy.

Sighing, I decided to drop the subject. "Whatever. Listen, if Hongou croaks, I'll be on the next flight home and we can all meet up. But if not, I'm stickin' here til the end. I made my own bed with this one."

"Okay, sounds good. I guess... I hope Hongou makes it."

"Yeah. He deserves a miserable life, not a merciful death." My words were half-hearted, though; I was too tired for malice at this hour, I guess.

"...Since I'm guessing you're down in the lobby instead of a comfy hotel room, try to get some sleep while you can, Seven. All right? I'll talk to you later."

"'Kay. See ya, Junpei." With that, I clicked the phone off and hung it up. I tried to get comfy in the lobby chair and tugged my beanie over my eyes. It was going to be a long night.

...

...and a few hours later, I was still tossing and turning in that room. Every little thing was bothering me: the elevator's unnecessary beeps, the doctors and nurses coming in for their shifts, the fucking snack machine dispensing bags of chips (who the hell needed a snack at that hour?!), among other things. I was so irritable that I ended up going for a walk a few times to calm myself down.

And after a few more hours, one of the nurses finally approached me. Clearly, she had perfected her poker face; I couldn't tell the results of the operation by looking at her expression. I guess medical professions needed to keep an eerily calm disposition.

Anyway, she flipped through that same damn clipboard again, and glanced back up at me. "We have completed the surgery on Mr. Hongou," she explained, and then the corners of her mouth twitched upwardsand I could tell how it went before she said anything. "It was a success."

I rubbed the back of my head, unsure what to think about the whole thing. Hongou being killed would'a been an easy and quick way to rid the world of his presence, yeah, but... something about it bugged me.

"Okay, so... what now?"

Once more looking at her charts, the nurse replied with a small smirk, "You may return to your sentry in his room, if you wish."

I ignored her little grin and nodded. "'Kay. But I was gonna go grab some breakfast in a bit. Will he, y'know, die while I'm gone?"

"No, I believe he will survive you stepping away for a bit."

...well, wasn't she the little sass master. Without even gracing her with an answer, I paced up the elevator to Hongou's floor.

"242... 243... 244," I murmured, finally finding his room. Taking off my beanie almost anxiously, I peered in.

He was... well, he was breathing. He looked dead – pale and broken and fragile – but the heart monitor's steady 'beep's indicated that he was still alive.

Against all the odds – against the bomb in his stomach, a fellow psychopath hungry for revenge, and even my own fuck-up with the jeep – Hongou had pulled through. At least, for now. That had to mean something, right?

And despite everything, I couldn't help but sigh with relief and mutter, "Way to go, tiger."