Lie In The Sound
Chapter 11: Numb


"Options? What do you mean, options?" Cid's voice echoed through the hallway at the early morning hour. Yuna, who was making her way from the lift toward Rikku's room, stopped for a moment.

"We need to talk about the realities, now, sir."

"I don't know what realities you're speaking of."

Yuna looked around, silently slipping within an empty hospital room. She left the door cracked as she listened to the conversation.

"It's been nearly a week and a half since Rikku gave birth. She's healing up nicely from the internal bleeding, but that doesn't guarantee that it won't happen again. Just because we've been able to catch it these last times does not mean that we will be able to stop it if it happens again. We need to start talking about the possibilities of the situation."

"What possibilities?"

"Your daughter might not wake up, sir. We are doing everything we can to try and help her, but every day she stays in the coma, the odds of her coming out of it are dropping dramatically." Yuna sucked in a breath. She knew those words were true… but hearing them and knowing the odds were two different things. Does he actually think she'll die? The doctor went on, talking quietly. He sounded almost regretful as he spoke his next words. "Oftentimes, comatose patients can go into a cardiac arrest, or they stop breathing, or brain functions stop altogether. I need to know if you want us to resuscitate her if anything does happen."

"How dare you talk that way." Cid's voice was cold as he spoke to the doctor. Yuna clasped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from making any noise. "My daughter will wake up, I assure you that. She helped to defeat Sin, she's dealt with poisons and heavy bleeding much more serious than this."

"Sir, you do not know that she'll make it this time, and I can honestly say that my faith is beginning to waver. Most of the mothers that go into a post-birth coma resulting from internal bleeding or even exhaustion wake within a week. You must analyze the facts, sir, and the facts are telling us that we need to make preparations now for whatever may happen later. She might wake up tomorrow and be fine, or something could go wrong and make the situation even worse. I'm not telling you what to do, sir, I'm telling you to tell me what to do." The doctor sounded frustrated.

Cid sounded broken. "If... if anything happens… I want you to do everything you can to save her."

"I will, Cid… I will." The doctor's footsteps receded down the hallway. Yuna heard her Uncle start to sob in the hall. She opened the door and ran down the hall to him.

"Uncle Cid…"

The bald man slammed his hand against the wall. "I will not lose her like this." He slammed it again, and again; Yuna watched him in silence as he sobbed. "I will not let her go like her mother! My baby girl is too good for that!"

Yuna barely noticed as tears began to run down her cheeks. She pulled the older man away from the wall and hugged him tightly as he sobbed onto her shoulder. She tried to comfort her uncle, but the doctor's logical voice had numbed her emotions. She wanted to continue to believe, but in the back of her mind, a voice of reason, one she'd been forced to listen to long ago in Zanarkand, was beginning to chatter once more. The only problem was… this time she wasn't willing to listen.


Brother had taken Gippal back to the house to rest. Everyone else was there, now, save Yuna and Cid. Yuna had informed her of the events of the morning… Paine had immediately felt sick.

Rikku hadn't changed. Her condition was no worse, no better. Somehow, though, everything seemed much more bleak. Everything seemed much more wrong. Paine was not one to lose her head when trouble came knocking. She couldn't remember a time when she had gotten so emotional that she had cracked. But there was always a first time for everything.

She gripped the guardrail on the little gurney so tightly that her hands ached, that her knuckles turned white. "Why are you doing this, Rikku?" she yelled. Her little blonde friend did not answer. "Why can't you just wake up and start bouncing around and asking me insane questions? Your poor father is falling apart, seeing you like this, when he can't do a damn thing to stop it! Lulu is worrying herself crazy back at the house!" Her voice softened. "I caught her knitting last night. Who knits? She's worried, she's not herself. She's scared. Tidus and Yuna got in a big fight yesterday after dinner… I've never seen either of them so scared, Rikku, you know that Yuna doesn't scare easy. And Tidus is always happy, or at least… that's all I've ever seen from him. Wakka is too quiet, he's barely been acknowledging Vidina. Your brother is here, Rikku, isn't that scary in itself?"

Her eyes were burning. "I'm getting all emotional without you here todrive me insane, Rikku. I never thought I'd miss your annoying bubbliness, but I do! I need you to wake up."

She was silent for a moment before she pushed her hair out of her face. "Gippal looks like you, lately. He's exhausted, taking care of your daughter all by himself, watching over you as if you'll vanish if he can't see you… He's not even trying to joke around anymore, Rikku, it's almost like he's not even here." She looked at her friend for a long while. Finally, she pulled herself from the chair and left the room, walking toward the lift distractedly.


Tidus was angrily throwing stones into the water on a little stretch of beach near the docks. He was more angry than he'd ever been, even when he'd hated his father. He'd always hoped that he could avoid being on the receiving end of hate… however, that was hard to do, he'd discovered, when you hated yourself.

He'd fought with Yuna for the first time in his memory the previous evening. He couldn't figure out what he'd said that had triggered it. It had ended when Yuna had stormed out of the house after attempting to throw a shoe at his head. He felt guilty for upsetting her, even if he couldn't pinpoint the reason for the fight. Then again, perhaps there was no reason for it… perhaps it simply couldn't be helped.

He'd heard Yuna talking to Cid on the Al Bhed dock that morning. He'd listened as the two talked about Rikku in defeated tones. He listened as he began to go over the possibilities that the doctor had pointed out. He'd watched as Brother had joined the two on the dock, paling when he heard the conversation.

And somehow, he felt as if it was all his fault. He could have prevented this had he noticed Rikku's abnormal state. He could have kept his friend from the possibility of death. He knew that he could have… but he didn't know how he could have.


Lulu held Vidina close as she walked along the Market Street toward the blitzball stadium. She needed a walk, she'd decided. Vidina needed one too. The little boy had gone to sleep just moments after leaving the house, and Lulu felt jealous. She'd barely slept for the past few days.

Responsibility, only three years ago, had been widespread. She had been a guardian, on the way to aid a summoner in saving the lives of thousands from Sin. She'd studied magic, a tool to aid her party as they traveled, an art that was passed down through the generations. Even if it would not help in the attack on Sin, it was something that needed to be taught, an art that needed to be passed on throughout the next generations. She'd been in love, once, and she'd tried to forget her loss. Her responsibility was to the people of Spira, who depended on her as a guardian. Her responsibility was constant, and much too large.

Now though, responsibility seemed much more complex. True, she was an ex-guardian, one of the only black mages in Spira who could use the most powerful of black magics. She was a mother and a wife, a friend. But that was the problem. Her responsibilities now had a center, a face. And she felt that she had shirked her responsibilities, in some shape or form.

Holding her little boy tightly, she walked absently around the market square, looking at the wares that the street vendors were showing off without really seeing them.


When Cid told me what the doctors had said, something inside me broke. I'd held on to my hope. It had kept me going, in all my exhaustion and frustration. But now, I could almost feel it streaming away, like a raging river that struggled to break free from its constraints.

I watched her steady breathing. Her chest was moving up and down, a natural rhythm. I'd watched her sleep many times. She looked no different now. Her lungs were automatically filling themselves with air, and then pushing it out once more. The cycle continued, going on and on, without interruption or variation. And while I was thankful that breath still filled her lungs, I hated the lack of change. I'd watched her often, since that first day, seen this repetitive cycle go on. But this time… I broke.

I cried for so long, that evening, that I lost track of the minutes, of the hours. I was drained, gasping for breath. I began to do what I'd been much too afraid to consciously attempt. I talked to her.

"Rikku… I need you to just listen, even if you can't answer. I'm scared, okay? I'm scared out of my mind right now. I need you. I need you to open your eyes and make me feel better, Rikku, I'm going to lose it soon if you don't. Your dad told me some things today… things I never wanted to hear. I can't raise our baby by myself. I can't live life knowing that I couldn't do something, anything, to keep you here." I was shaking. "I had a dream, a few nights ago. You were dead, and she was a beautiful little girl. I was raising her on Bikanel; your dad was there with us, wherever we were… and I took her to the Farplane, and she was talking to you. And all she wanted was for you to talk back to her, she only wanted you, and I couldn't give you to her, Rikku. I know, it was a nightmare… but I can't let it come true! She was blaming herself for it, and she was crying, and I couldn't stand it, Rikku, it crushed my heart! All I want you to do right now is wake up, why can't you do it? It's not that hard, Rikku…" I watched her, as if I were expecting her to just open up those beautiful green orbs and grin at me. But she didn't.

I gripped her hand tightly, holding it to my cheek. For a moment, I thought that I felt her fingers brush against my cheek, but I didn't try to fool myself. I was still shaking, and still holding on to the hope that was slowly but surely breaking my heart.

"I'm going to ask you again, okay? I need you to wake up for me. I need you to be okay. I can't do this alone, I can't live without you." I stared at her for a moment, my vision blurred. "I love you."

I walked over to the crib and picked my daughter up, taking her to the bed. "You haven't even been able to hold your little girl, yet, Rikku, you have to wake up for her. She needs you just as much as I do. She needs her mama, okay, just like you needed yours. You can't die on us, Rikku, you can't." I placed the baby in the crook of Rikku's arm. She wrapped her little fingers around one of mine, and I rubbed the back of her little hand lovingly. Her eyes were beginning to darken now, slowly turning a shade of green that was a perfect match to Rikku's bright emerald swirls.

"Come on, sweetheart… you have to help Mommy wake up…" I whispered, staring at the two girls that had stolen my heart.

A warm hand rested on my shoulder and I turned abruptly. The source was Wakka, who squeezed my shoulder lightly. "I think all of us have been asking the baby to perform miracles." I met his gaze for a moment, and he smiled reassuringly. I nodded, reluctantly.

"I know…"

I closed my eyes for a moment before reaching down to pick up the baby. Her tiny palm was wrapped around Rikku's fingers. I hated to pull her away.

Once I'd gotten her back to sleep and nestled safely in her crib, I walked with Wakka to the door. "How long have you been here?"

"Just a few minutes. Wanted to check on the two of you." Wakka nodded toward Rikku's bed. "I'm glad you talked to her."

"…so am I."

He nodded and began to walk toward the lift. "See you in the morning, Gippal."

"See ya, Wakka…" I frowned at his retreating form before going back inside.

I straightened Rikku's blankets before grabbing my own and sitting in the chair next to her bed. As I drifted off into an exhausted sleep, I held her hand tightly. I was too tired to notice that her usually limp fingers were weakly gripping my own.


I hope you liked it… Thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter. In any case, please review!