Survival
Disclaimer: These characters are owned by CBS and the CW network. I mean no infringement of any sort and am only using the characters for personal enjoyment and for others to enjoy as well!
DISCLAIMER: THIS FIC IS RATED M FOR LANGUAGE, CONSENSUAL SEX, AND REFERENCES TO VIOLENCE. IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, SCRAM! IT IS NOT MY JOB TO POLICE WHAT YOU ARE READING! IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ IT, SCRAM! I WON'T TOLERATE BULLYING!
This story is told from Catherine's POV, in the first person. May throw in Vincent's POV down the line.
Chapter 10
Heat eminated off of Vincent in waves. He had been thrashing violently for several hours. I couldn't do anything except hold his hand, and rub cool water on him with one of the torn up shirts. He had also begun muttering to himself, his words nonsensical.
"Not her...why do that?"
"...hasn't done anything to you..."
"I won't..."
I couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on in his feverish brain. I said his name several times, but Vincent was lost in his head. All I could do was pray. As I stared at him, I thought back to the last time I had seen him this vulnerable...
Vincent had been complaining about a stomach ache for the last couple hours. He even refused lunch, which was not normal. What 12 year old boy turns down food? I put my hand on his forehead. My hand jumped back. He was burning up!
"Vincent? I'm getting my mom. You're too warm," I told him. Vincent didn't even respond. I hurried downstairs, calling for my mother. She came around the corner, and I almost smacked into her.
"Catherine, where's the fire?" Mom asked. I grabbed her hand, pulling her back toward my bedroom.
"Mom, something is wrong with Vincent. He said his stomach hurts and he's awful hot. Come check on him, please!" Mom started walking faster, concern flashing on her face.
When we made it back to my room, Vincent was curled up on the bed, his face flushed, and creased with pain. The doctor in mom took over, and she raced to his side.
"Vincent? Vincent, can you hear me? Tell me where it hurts." He weakly gestured toward his left side. Mom gently pushed in where he gestured, and Vincent cried out. I stood by the door, unsure what to do. Mom whipped around, her eyes wide. "Catherine, call 911 now! We need an ambulance!"
I ran downstairs, and dialed with shaky fingers. It seemed like forever before the line connected, but it was mere seconds. When the operator answered, I told her what mom said, begging her to hurry. She assured me that an ambulance was on the way, and told me to stay on the line. The operator continued to speak to me, but I wasn't listening to the words.
Finally, I heard the sirens of the ambulance. I ran to the door, letting them in. I pointed toward the stairs, and they wasted no time, racing upstairs. I heard them talking to my mom, before one of the men came back down. He grabbed the stretcher, and carted it upstairs.
Moments later, they descended the stairs, with Vincent strapped to the stretcher. He was out cold. They hurried past me, loading him into the back. I stood in the doorway, and felt my mom come up behind me. She put her hands on my shoulders. I turned to look up at her.
"What's wrong with Vincent?" I asked her, fear seeping into my voice. Mom sighed.
"I think his appendix burst. I called his parents, and they are going to meet them at the hospital."
"Will he...be alright?" I asked. Mom pulled me back against her. Her chin came down to rest on my head.
"I hope so, honey. I hope so..."
I stared out the door, as the doors were closed, and the ambulance raced away...
Vincent's appendix had indeed burst. The doctors removed it just in time. I remembered realizing, while Vincent was in the hospital, that I was starting to have feelings for him. Or maybe, it was the first time I had really acknowledged the feelings. All I knew, was that I would never look at him the same way again.
As I looked down at him now, again in pain and vulnerable, I realized those feelings had never gone away. I still felt something for Vincent. Even after everything...
I still felt something...
I sat there, trying to come to grips with my revulation. I couldn't dwell on it. I knew that much. After we got out of here, everything would go back to normal. He would return to his life, and I would return to mine. I refused to believe that he wouldn't recover from this. I refused to think about the possibility that I would be stuck here...alone.
I reached over, grasping his hand. He didn't move. "Vincent...please come back to me. I can't do this alone. I need you..."
I swear his hand squeezed mine, but that couldn't be. My mind was just playing tricks on me. I was tired and that was why I was dwelling on the past. My eyes were starting to feel heavy. I shook my head, trying to stay awake.
Maybe a short nap would be okay...
I laid beside Vincent, his hand still grasped in mine. I closed my eyes, willing myself to relax.
Just a few minutes...
Just a few...
Just...