A/n: Sorry i've taken a bit longer than usual to update. I know i left you all on a mean cliffhanger . . . Please Review, as i am grateful for every single one i get. Thanks . . .
'You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world, but a world lives in you . . .'
Irvine was still sat on the same table that, not long ago, seated most of his friends, along with a certain small brunette girl who had set ablaze a fire in his heart, which would prove near impossible to put out this time round. The sharpshooter had learned that being around Selphie Tilmitt was, for him, a life source. She had become the air he breathed; without her, his very being threatened to fade away. He now realized how the once-so-energetic girl must've felt when he left her all alone, which brought a heavy cloud of guilt pushing down upon his shoulders. He himself didn't understand why he had done it in the first place; gone off with those three silly girls. In the end he had put it down to him being a male of the species and proving to be ever so typical when it came to a certain something being offered on a plate. Though Selphie did nothing to tame his wild animal-like instincts, Irvine had toned down his desire for the female touch just a little; perhaps afraid of ruining his new-found relationship with the one girl he truly loved.
Beginning to get anxious, he drummed his long, slender fingers upon the table top, as he found himself looking at Zell, who was inevitably drawing attention to himself. Irvine chuckled as his watched his short, blonde friend imitating a dance that looked like the 'funky chicken'.
How very appropriately named . . . Seifer would have a field trip if he saw this . . .
However ridiculous Zell appeared whilst throwing his arms and legs about like a monkey on a sugar high, the few girls crowding around him seemed to have gone all gooey eyed and giggly. Irvine shook his head at the antics of the hyper active fighter, but found the smile on his face hard to get rid of. Looking across the vast room at the ornately decorated wall clock, he noticed that Selphie had been gone for nearly ten minutes.
No girls take that long, do they? Unless they're gossipin'; but Sefie went alone. Maybe she bumped into someone . . .
Not content with simply sitting, Irvine decided to get up and go wandering, specifically in the direction of the ladies restroom. Walking halfway across the room, he turned sharply to the left and took a slower pace as he neared the pink door of the girl's toilets. For a moment, he simply leaned against the wall with one leg pushing against it, in his usual way of standing, but without his cowboy hat to shield his eyes, he felt rather uneasy of people. He didn't want fellow students to think he was loitering around an inappropriate place or trying to pick up girls; the last thing he wanted was the nickname 'Irv the Perv' to start up over the Garden again. At that moment, almost as if his prayers had been heard, Quistis walked past about 10 feet away, holding a glass of champagne in her right hand, delicately sipping at it.
"Quistis!" Irvine shouted above the music that was currently playing from the hired band.
The blonde instructor looked over her shoulder first, then off to the left, smiling when she realized who it was who had called her name.
Changing her direction, she moved her way over to where the cowboy was leaning, beginning to talk before she was in front of him.
"Hello, Irvine. Where's Sef?"
"Yeah, that's what I need you for. Can you go get her out of the toilets? She's been ages already and I really need her out here before the night ends."
Quistis offered him a brief smile in way of a response before pushing open the girls' pink restroom door, a slight creak coming from the worn hinges. Whilst slipping through the opening, she let her ice blue eyes linger on her waiting friend until the door had closed.
But then she saw it.
The sight hit hard like an iron fist to her stomach. The crystal glass of drink she had been holding slipped out of her fingers, starting its descent to the floor, where it smashed into several sharp pieces, the liquid splashing up onto the satin of her shoes. Quistis felt like what she was seeing was not real, she wished that it was some sick alcohol induced vision that her mind had conjured up, but she knew that it wasn't. This was real; her friend was lying seemingly lifeless on the cold tiles of Balamb Garden's restroom, harmed in a way that made the usually strong instructor feel woozy.
"IRVINE!"
Hearing Quistis' startled scream from his position outside the girl's toilets, he pushed off against the wall and went rushing in without a second thought to the matter, though the desperation in her shout could not have prepared him for what he saw next.
Standing in the doorway, he struggled to take in the sight before him, not wanting the image to take a place in his mind, but failing to stop it from getting through.
Selphie was on the floor, her curled up position making her look far too small and far too vulnerable. Her dress, that she was so radiant in no less than 20 minutes ago, was ripped and burnt in places, smoke stains soiling the cream bodice and fine lace cut. Parts of the flesh on her bare legs was blistered, raw and cut open by the ferocious elemental attacks they had received. Irvine took a few tentative steps towards the slumped form of the girl he loved, drowning out the misery of Quistis' uneven sobs. Once closer, he could see the many bruises that also littered Selphies delicate body, along with the trail of blood that seemed to be leaking out of her tiny ears. At this point, the reality of the situation pushed heavy upon Irvine's mind, causing panic to overwhelm his being.
Kneeling down amongst the shards of shattered glass, plastic and pool of champagne, he took hold of Selphie's pale hand, which was curled up in a loose fist. He noticed the deathly cold feeling and the lack of response almost immediately. The sharpshooter squeezed her hand as he swept his gaze up to her face, which showed no emotion, then looked down to her chest, waiting for the rise and fall to indicate breathing. It was when the motion never came that he started to worry even more, his heart hammering against his rib cage feeling as though it might just burst and the sickly sound of his pulse in his ears only adding to the feeling. Not wasting a second more, Irvine turned around to face Quistis who had stopped crying and got a hold of herself.
"Go get Doctor Kadowaki, have her phone for an ambulance . . ."
Irvine placed a his index and middle finger upon Selphies neck, careful not to push hard against any injuries, but applying enough pressure to find a pulse. After searching around for a few moments, he began to get frantic. Quistis, who had not yet gone due to shock sealing her feet in place, spoke up in no more than a whisper.
"Is she . . . is there a pulse?"
When Irvine turned around, his usual mischievous glare had vanished, being replaced by intense sorrow, tears rimming his reddening, violet eyes. As soon as he shook his head back and forth, the blonde instructor backed away and nodded, turning quickly, running out of the restroom; running to save her friend, running to get help.
Irvine took hold of Selphie gently and cradled her, whispering 'I love you' into her soft hair, before turning her and laying her flat on her back. He knew he shouldn't have really moved Selphie, due to her injuries, but for what he was about to perform, he had to have her in an easy position.
Placing his hands, palms open and laying them both upon her chest, at the bottom of the ribcage, he took a deep breath and cleared his mind of panic and worry. Once accomplished, he could get to that area of his brain and soul that stored magic and connect to it easily. Finding it, he began to scan himself for healing magic; Life, in particular. At the very end of his eager searching, he found one left, praying with all his heart that it worked. He knew that if a person was left dead for long enough, they wouldn't respond to life magic and be gone forever. Hoping this wasn't the case with the girl he loved, Irvine began to draw on the singular ray of optimism he had left and felt the heavy surge that usually came when summoning magic. A soft purple light surrounded Selphie lifeless form, glimmering down upon her and radiating throughout her body, before finally leaving a subtle golden glow behind and vanishing into thin air.
Irvine removed his hand carefully from their position on Selphies chest and lifted her up gently into his arms, watching her intently. When no signs of life seemed to come from the small brunette, the sharpshooter clutched her tighter to his chest, sorrow finally overwhelming him as he began to cry, waves of sadness wracking his body.
Though he hadn't noticed it yet, Selphies heart had slowly started to pump again, faintly but still enough to get the blood to her limbs, and to get her to take small breaths of air into her starved lungs. It was only when one of her arms twitched, that Irvine lifted his head up and gazed down at her. Bringing a hand up to her neck, once again he pressed two fingers delicately under her jaw line and searched, finding a pulse; a soft one, but a pulse none the less. Whilst letting out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding in, someone placed a hand upon his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Turning around, Irvine was none too surprised to see a solemn faced Quistis, despite the fact he'd never heard her enter the restroom once again.
"She's breathing . . . but she's not waking up."
The slim blonde behind him squeezed his shoulder whilst drawing her pink lips together in a fine line, the only thing she could do to stop the tears from coming again.
"There's a medical team and an ambulance on the way. Squall's cleared the hall with help from Zell . . ."
". . . Quistis, she's not waking up . . . she won't wake up."
Lowering herself down to Irvine's level on the floor, she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him burrow into her collarbone; something she wouldn't usually do, due to the cowboys' flirtatious nature, but because of his seemingly changed ways and the current events, she didn't hesitate once. Hearing Irvine produce a deep intake of breath, followed by a strangled gasp, Quistis guessed he was crying so tightened her hold around him, letting her gaze stray to the tiny form of her friend in his arms. Selphie looked shockingly fragile, her skin a bleak white where a peachy flush used to play across her features. In a loud clatter, the door to the restroom was pushed open with a creak, showing the arrival of two male members of the medical team, dressed in a straight-cut, no-fuss uniform. They pushed in a wheeled stretcher trolley and politely asked Quistis and Irvine to step back from the 'patient'.
Quistis pushed herself up from her sitting position slowly, keeping her eyes on Irvine, who didn't appear to be making any kind of attempt to move away from Selphie. Instead, he stayed in the same pose, still clutching the girl he loved tighter to his chest, not caring if his shirt got stained from her wounded head. One of the medical team, who had short-bleached blonde hair and looked to be around thirty-five, glanced at Irvine impatiently as he began to speak in a hushed tone.
"Sir, please could you step aside? We need to get the injured girl onto the trolley and-,"
"I'll put her on it," Irvine unexpectedly snapped at the older man, interrupting the rest of his sentence.
Looking down upon the small brunette with sullen eyes, the sharpshooter adjusted his arms around her small form, so that one lay under the crease of her knee's and the other supported her upper body. Not taking his gaze off Selphies pale face, he gently lifted her whilst steadily rising out of the kneeling position he had been in for a while. Irvine lowered her lightly onto the white bedding fabric of the trolley stretcher, pulling his arms out slowly from underneath her. Reaching his left hand up, he ran his fingers through her silken chesnut hair and behind her ear, bringing his hand down and grazing it across her sallow cheek in a tender fashion. Irvine leant down to her, letting his wavy, auburn hair fall over them both, and with sorrow heavy in his heart, he kissed her lips. Although they weren't cold, he got no response; no warm mouth came back to caress his in a way that only she could. The cowboy pulled back, feeling lonelier than ever as the two medical staff wheeled the trolley, with his girl on, backwards out of the rest room.
…………………………………………….
Irvine hung his head in silence, shielding his vision from the bright, garish lights in the private waiting room, thoughts running through his head like a speeding train. Strands of his loose, auburn hair drifted down into his face, but he didn't have it in him to move the hands he was resting on to brush it back into place. Someone else did though. It was Quistis, who was sitting next to him with a dour look upon her fine features. She'd smoothed away the wavy pieces of soft hair and placed them back behind his ear. Irvine turned his head to look at the blonde, who had always acted like the mother-type figure amongst the group of friends, which in his time of need, he was entirely grateful for. Looking around the room at the rest of his companions, he realized that all of them wore almost an identical expression; one of sadness and despair. Rinoa was perched atop Squalls lap, her face pushed into the lapel of his suit jacket, still sobbing silently whilst he hugged her tight. Her stifled cries only added to the heavy mood that was hanging around in the room like an unwanted guest. Zell was slouching back into one of the dusky pink coloured arm chairs that adorned the enclosed waiting room, shaking one of his legs up and down in a nervous twitch.
They had all been sitting down in the small, stuffy room for quite some time since Selphie had gone into another section of the hospital. It was the same hospital that the small brunette had been in last time, along with the most of same doctors and nurses who had treated her back then, when she had done the unthinkable and tried to kill herself. Irvine didn't want to think back to that time; when he had been such an idiot, too foolish to realize his own feelings for the girl whose life was now at risk. Although he didn't know what had happened to Selphie in the ladies restroom, he had a good idea of what might've gone down.
It had to be them, who else would do that to her?
The door to the waiting room opened up with a clicking of the latch, as a doctor dressed in a typical white overcoat stepped in, giving each of them a once over, specifically lingering on Quistis. They must've looked quite odd to him, seeing as they were all dressed in the outfits they'd worn to the dance that night. Zell sneered a little at the middle aged, somewhat plump doctor, who still hadn't removed his gaze from the low, plunging neckline of Quistis's dress. When the blonde instructor noticed, she gave him a frown of her own, her pretty features creasing up in a rather menacing way.
The doctor coughed a little, his fat cheeks reddening at being caught.
"I have news on your friend, a Miss Selphie Tilmitt I believe?"
Irvine half-leapt out of his seat and stood up immediately, followed by Zell, who walked closer to his friend, just in case comfort should be needed. The plump doctor looked down at the clip-board in his podgy, white fingers, before looking up and asking if they would perhaps like to take a seat again. Zell sat back down reluctantly, but Irvine stayed standing up, a worried look painted across his almost-feminine features.
What's so bad that I've got to sit down for?
Getting impatient, he snapped before he could stop himself; the result of lack of sleep and worry over his loved one.
"Tell us then, you idiot!"
As if it were a built in reflex, Quistis immediately apologized for Irvine's bad manners, although she wished she hadn't, seeing as how the doctor had rather rudely been leering at her only a few moments ago. The doctor seemed rather flustered for a fraction of a second, but soon regained his composure, and began to speak in a professional tone of voice.
"As you all know, when Miss Tilmitt was admitted, she was in a very worrying state. Visibly, her body was bearing the signs of avery vicious elemental attacks, but when we examined her closer . . . . . ."
None of the friends appeared to be breathing, too caught up in what the medical man had to say, afraid that the world might stop if they took the time to fill their lungs. The doctor sighed before continuing.
"Her body sustained massive internal damage to many of her vital organs. Despite this, her heart was untouched, along with the two cavas and the aorta, which is a blessing indeed. As for the lungs, one of the two main stem Bronchus was completely crushed along with the upper lobe on the right side. Her stomach lining had a minor rip to it, which could've been potentially dangerous, had we not put one of our highly advanced lasers to it in time . . ."
The middle aged man adjusted the clipboard resting in his arm, licked the tip of his finger and turned over one of the secured pieces of paper, containing the information on Selphie. He pointed his chubby finger down on the page and ran it along a sentence whilst he read.
"From our scans and x-rays, we can see that she also received a massive blow to the left side of her head, cracking the skull in several places and leaving the brain damaged in areas, mainly the Parietal Lobe and a small part of the Frontal lobe of the cerebrum. As a result, Miss Tilmitt is in a comatose state of mind."
Once again, the room fell quiet, almost suffocating in its silence. Nobody wanted to believe what they were hearing, and everybody wanted to turn back the clock and wish they had stayed with their small, cherished friend for the whole night. No-one took it harder than Irvine, though.
"She . . . She's in a coma?"
"I'm afraid so. At this stage, we-,"
"NO, she can't be! She . . . no."
Quistis stepped up beside her male-friend, placing a hand gently on his arm. He turned his head slightly. Although he only focused on her for a split second before he turned back to the doctor, she could see the hazy start of tears forming in his usually, so carefree eyes.
"As I was saying, at this stage we can't tell if it's going to be temporary . . . or long term."
It was at this point that Irvine turned away from the middle-aged, over-weight doctor. He had become annoyed with his uncaring mannerism and formality of speech. The sharpshooter took a slow, unbalanced step backwards and let himself fall into the armchair he had gotten out of a few minutes ago. . . Before he knew; before any of them knew. His mind was swimming with thoughts and sorrow. Although his worst fears hadn't been confirmed (which consisted of Selphie being dead), she was dead to the world; vegetablised, a shell of her old self, unconscious. Whilst the five were taking in what the doctor had said, Quistis watched Irvine closely, maybe to get her own mind off the bad aura that seemed to linger in the air, or maybe because she realized that she had been wrong to judge him.
He really does love Selphie . . .
Rinoa had started up her sobbing again with Squall stroking her hair and shushing her, whilst Zell stood in the same spot cracking his knuckles incessantly, a furrow creasing his brow over concern and anxiousness for his best girl-friend.
"Miss Tilmitt has been in and out of the operation room, and is now residing in a singular room to herself down the hallway."
Quistis brushed a loose strand of blonde hair away from her watery blue eyes, and said in a small voice, "Other than being . . . non-responsive . . . is she okay?"
The doctor, who was called Will Lauder, according to the I.D photo card hanging around his neck, sighed slightly and answered her question as best as he could.
"She's as okay as a teenager can be whilst in a coma. Whilst in the operating room, a handful of our doctors who have been trained in high skilled healing magic were attending to her."
"Whaddya mean, high skilled healing magic?" This outburst came from Zell, who was genuinely confused about the term.
"Well, we have access to extremely high concentrated versions of normal healing potions. For example, the Elixir we hold here at the hospital is nearly 20 times more effective than normal Elixir. The same goes with Remedies, Antidotes and High Potions. You see, instead of the injured patient drinking these concoctions, we administer them ourselves, through injections, drips, and in your friends' case, an operation through to the main damaged areas, where it is applied straight to the wound itself."
Unexpectedly, Squall spoke up at this point, causing Rinoa to lift her head up from his shoulder and look at him, wiping tears from her eyes, the pupils of which had dilated suddenly under the harsh light of the room.
"Where do you get hold of these concentrated potions? SeeD could really-,"
"What the fuck, man! You're thinking of work when one of our friends is lying like a goddamn vegetable in the next room!" Zell spat out at Squall, letting loose his well known short tempered side. His fists were clenching and unclenching by his sides, his baby blue eyes looking with fierce intensity at the gunblader, who appeared to be avoiding his sharp gaze. Quistis walked over to Zell and stood in front of him, her hands resting on her hips and a disappointed expression painted upon her delicate features.
"Zell, calm down . . ."
" . . . Sorry."
In a whispered voice, the blonde instructor added, "Can't you see how this is affecting Irvine? And I'm pretty sure your oh-so-nice description of Selphie made him feel a whole lot better . . ."
Noting the sarcastic tone in her voice, Zell felt rather guilty and looked over to where his male-friend was standing, seemingly trapped in a world of thoughts, his bright violet eyes hazed over and vacant.
Dr. Lauder spoke up, but not before clearing his throat in what would be considered a rather rude gesture to some. He turned to look at the five friends, mostly addressing Irvine, "You can come through to see her now if you wish. Only two at a time though, I'm afraid. Whoever's coming first, follow me please."
Almost immediately Irvine snapped his gaze back onto the doctor, who now had his back to them and was heading for the door. He felt as though he was in a dream, like his mind was elsewhere, his feet floating rather than touching the floor as he moved to follow the middle-aged man out of the room.
"Irvine?"
Quistis' voice said behind him, with a gentle tone.
"Do you want me to come with you?"
The sharpshooter didn't reply, but turned his head to the right, where he could see the lithe blonde out of the corner of his eye, and shook his head from side to side. He'd rather go alone, not wanting the trepidation of others to weigh down on him. Following the doctor down the hallway, he came to a wooden door and halted
Irvine heard the doctors' words signaling to open the door in front of him. Lifting his hand from his side, hesitation suddenly took hold. In the back of his mind, there was no doubt that he wanted to see Selphie; to be with her again, but he wasn't so sure if he wanted to see her in this specific state, with her not being able to talk back to him, or respond in any way. The usual cool façade that the sharpshooter often had around him, had faded all but three hours ago, the total length of time the group had been at the hospital, waiting eagerly for news of their friend, and to one, more than a friend. He couldn't stop Zells harsh words (although directed at Squall) from re-surfacing in his head, echoing around like an unwanted nightmare.
'. . . One of our friends is lying like a goddamn vegetable in the next room . . .'
"Well? Aren't you going in?"
The Doctors low voice broke through Irvine's thought pattern, and he looked down at his hand clenched tightly around the chrome doorknob, his knuckles turning a slow, pallid white with the pressure.
"If you need anyone in there, a doctor or nurse, don't hesitate to push the red button by the side of Miss Tilmitts bed frame."
Not replying and waiting until the Doctor walked away, Irvine pushed open the wooden door in front of him and took a step inside the room, which smelt horribly of disinfectant and latex. Casting his violet eyes up from the tiled floor, he settled them uneasily upon the shape resting under the covers on the standard, hospital-issue bed.
There she was. His girl. His Sefie.
Irvine let out a breath from his air starved lungs, not realizing, or even much caring that he had inhaled and not released it before now.
He walked slowly towards her, the soles of the black leather shoes he had opted for that night clinking heavily andnoisely on the floor, adding a more foreboding air to the situation. Yet when he looked down upon her form, she didn't look as though she were in a coma; just a deep sleep.
Sleeping beauty . . . If only I could wake her with a kiss . . .
Irvine mentally shook the thought from his head as he pulled up a rickety old plastic chair from the corner, and set it as close to the bed as it would go. Although the legs made quite a scraping noise on the tiles, Selphie didn't wince or open one of her eyes like he'd half-expected her to. If one was to see her now, they wouldn't have guessed she'd been in such a sadistic elemental attack, not just by looking at her face. It was barely marked, holding only a small gash under her chin and a slight bruise peeping out from underneath the bandage, which had been tightly secured around her head, no doubt where the maininjury was.
Selphies facial and bodily injuries were much worse when she had arrived at hospital by air-ambulance. A lot of swelling and bruising was visible, along with crimson blood staining her pale skin and drying in places, matting her hair around the crown of her head. Irvine was aware that her legs had also been severely blistered by the fire and ice blasts, leavingareasopen to infection and weeping. He wondered if all the marks had gone away. They should have if the doctors were so skilled in what they said they were, but a thin blue sheet covered Selphies body from the waist down, and was tucked in tight to the sides of the bed, not a crease in sight.
Irvine lifted one of her tiny hands off her body and threaded his fingers in between hers, being careful not to disturb the drip that had been placed near her wrist, which was linked up to a bag on stand beside him, harboring some sort of clear fluid.
Grazing his eyes along the part of her body that was above the bed sheet, Irvine noticed that she had been stripped of her ball-dress of which she looked so beautiful in, and placed in a paper thin, blue gown with a square cut neck and sleeves down to her elbows. He stroked his long fingers down her soft arm, coming across patches of slightly raised, discoloured skin, where a wound had just recently been healed. Irvine knew it wouldn't leave a scar. If an injury was treated with potion up to two hours after it was given, no mark would remain, or else he and the rest of his friends would be covered in numerous, tale-telling battle scars by now. If left untreated, it would leave a blemish for life, or take its own time for the skin to heal naturally over it.
Lifting his hand up from Selphies right arm, he hovered it above her cheek for a moment and cupped it there, running his thumb underneath her chin and over her rose-petal lips, before bringing it away and running his fingers throughthe ends of her soft, chesnut hair.
A small bleeping sound filled the air for a second or two, taking Irvine a moment to realize it came from a small wall clock above Selphies bed. He had been simply sitting there, watching and caressing her for just over an hour, although it only seemed like ten minutes in his world, whichheld no track of time when it came to the girl he loved. In the back of his mind, the sharpshooter knew that his other friends, especially Zell, would be eager to see Selphie, and the last thing he wanted was for one of them to join him, interrupting his oddly-calmed state.
Pushing up out of his chair, which he only just noticed had been extremely uncomfortable, Irvine looked down at the small brunette, letting outa small sigh as he did so.
"I love you, my Sleeping Beauty . . ."
The sharpshooter gazed at her for a second longer remembering the fairytale they had so loved when younger.
. . What if . . .
Irvine bent down, letting his auburn hair fall in tendrils over Selphies face as he placed a loving kiss tenderly upon her soft, dusky pink lips. Pulling back slowly and stroking a hand over her cheek, he watched her again, half expecting her eyes to open. Of course, they didn't.
He smiled to himself, feeling a little foolish for thinking that a fairytale theory might work in a real life situation. But then again, His Sefie had always believed in the world of princesses and knights and happily ever after. Irvine kissed her sweetly on the lips once more and pulled back, turning on his heel out of the room, but not before giving his Princess one last longing look . . .