Everglow - Chapter Seven

Nadiya wasn't sure what was happening to her.

The lights, the stainless steel glinting, the straps around her wrists were all painfully familiar. Panic flowed through her body, causing her thin form to shiver in fright. Maybe that was why she couldn't see clearly. Or maybe it was the funny smelling gas they gave her.

She felt the constant tug at her consciousness, but she didn't want to go to sleep. Her body felt heavy, like she was sinking into the sheets. It tingled lightly to move her fingers even the smallest bit. There was something in her blood, she reasoned. That's why it felt so funny to move. Vincent's hand was still clenching hers, but she could barely tell. As time went on, she lost all feeling in her hand, and it made no difference if he was still there or not.

It was uncomfortable, but not overpoweringly so. She still remained as tense and rigid as a board, instinct learned from long years under the lights telling her that she was anything but safe.

One moment she had been gazing at the white of the hospital room, and then it was if someone had thrown a black sheet over her, muffling her sight and hearing instantaneously.

But she wasn't in the dark for long. There was a light, but this one was softer, gentler.

Oh, my baby…my little girl… Hands, cool and comforting stroked her cheek, wet droplets falling to her face. She wanted to tell the soft voice not to cry, that she would be all right, but she was as mute as she had been all her life.

She couldn't see this angel, but the voice was so soft and soothing that she couldn't resist. She snuggled up against the figure to be closer to the woman's living warmth. Nadiya was embraced, and the woman was rocking her gently, singing a soft lullaby in an angel's voice.

She didn't care what the doctors did to her anymore, as long as it meant that she could stay here.


It had been determined that Nadiya's crisis had passed, and her vitals were stable enough for her to be taken to a normal bed instead on under a thousand monitors on a cold, steel table. She looked so small in the bed, her silver hair spread out on the white pillow like spilled moonlight, her wings extending from her curled body. She seemed to be at peace, and her breathing was smooth and regular.

Aidan had refused to leave his sister, so another bed had been pulled up beside Nadiya's, allowing the twins to remain together. The little boy had fallen asleep soon after too, after many protests that he wasn't tired.

Vincent stared out the window and, not for the first time since meeting the twins, wondered where their father was.

His troubled thoughts were interrupted by a small, timid knock. A woman pushed the door open a crack. "They are asleep?" a light, young, feminine voice asked.

Vincent voiced his affirmative by simply saying nothing.

The nurse that entered could not possibly have been over twenty years of age. Waist length blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, the ends curled elegantly, but still managing to look youthful. She was a rather petite woman, standing a good two feet shorter than Vincent. Her slim body was clad in the simple white dress that was the symbol of her profession, the skirt ending just past her knees. She lifted a pair of simple, oval glasses from her eyes and let them dangle on a emerald chain. Vincent noted that her eyes were the same color; a deep, expressive jade flecked with gold.

She smiled kindly, but soon turned her attention to the children. She sighed deeply, sadly, as she knelt by Nadiya, taking her pulse in slender fingers. "The poor child…"

Vincent arced an eyebrow. "You must know of their heritage."

The nurse softly brushed a stray strand of Nadiya's hair from her eyes and then stood. "Yes," she said. Then, her eyes sparkling, she extended a hand toward Vincent. "I'm Vivian. It's nice to meet you!"

Vincent was unaccustomed to being approached with such boldness, and he struggled to remember the last time a hand had been offered to him. Slowly, he extended his human hand, but shook only briefly, and withdrew immediately after finding that her grip was steady and firm.

"So you are the one that found them?" she asked as she went back to Nadiya's IV, checking the fluids in the plastic bag that hovered far above the child's head.

"Yes," Vincent responded simply.

"Will you continue to care for them?"

"Only until I can find their father."

Vivian looked back and smiled brilliantly at him. "You think he lives?"

Vincent returned his gaze to the horizon. "Who can say? Perhaps, perhaps not."

Vivian hummed softly. "I'm glad you still have faith." She continued to gently examine Nadiya, and then moved to little Aidan, who was too exhausted to know or care about the gentle hands that surveyed his body. "He must be so proud. Such beautiful children…" She was now taking Aidan's blood pressure, but he didn't even stir as the fabric tightened. "A strong, vibrant boy and a radiant daughter…what more could a father ask for?"

Vincent gave a small, wry smile. He had often imagined the General's response to the news that, contrary to his belief, his children were alive.

What kind of father would Sephiroth prove to be? The question occupied his mind so that he heard no more of Vivian's soft, encouraging chatter.

But he was glad that there was someone who would accept the children for who they were.


A/N: As my dear friend informed me, it has been a while. Please accept my apologies for having the worst writer's block imaginable piled on top of mounds of homework. Tomorrow I have standardized testing, so I can't promise anything then. Know that I will be wishing that I could write as I sit in an overcrowded room bored to tears.