Greetings. I don't have very much to say about this chapter, except that I found it to be very sad. Meaning that I almost broke down and cried like a little kid while writing this. Joke. But still. I attempted to explore what guilt, sadness and grief can do to a person, having lived through an amount of it myself. Even though it's been nothing near to what Vincent and Reeve are currently going through in this fic, it's still something.

I do feel I have to repeat something though. This story, as said in the very first chapter, does not include a Vincent/Reeve pairing. As much close friendship and hurt/comfort there seems to be, I stubbornly refuse to pair those two up together. That, as well as the fact that I just don't do male/male or female/female pairings. Just thought I'd clear that up.

And in reply to Lord Makura's "carry Reeve bridal style", well, there you have it. It was planned in all along, and I didn't think that Vincent would have done Reeve a favor by carrying him as one would a sack of potatoes. Though it still must have hurt his knee like hell……

Well, I thank for the reviews and the encouragement. The second chapter of Try, Try Again should be up soon, as soon as I finish my current train of thought for that fic, so stay tuned. I seriously still have no idea why I'm writing that story…….

So enjoy and cheers!

Kyyrin

Chapter Ten

Vincent desperately hauled Reeve to the medical facilities as fast as the both of them could manage, which was, sadly, not fast at all. He had to stop and right Reeve at times, for the man's strength was too far depleted for him to walk longer distances.

A ways away from the medical ward, however, Vincent felt his friend fall forward in his grip once more. He grabbed Reeve again, attempting to pull him up, but to no avail.

"Come on, Reeve. Just….a little….further….", Vincent grunted tiredly. When Reeve didn't budge, Vincent looked down, intending on giving the man another motivational push. But what he saw stopped any words he wished to utter.

Reeve had practically collapsed, eyes half open and hazy from pain and exhaustion. He didn't look like he'd be moving another inch.

"Too……tired…..Vince……sor…..ry", came the faint murmur before he passed out cold in Vincent's arms.

Vincent then openly displayed the panic and fear he was feeling on his normally blank features. There was no one there to see it, and besides. Shalua had told him it was human.

"Reeve! No!!!", he hissed loudly, attempting to rouse his friend. "Reeve! Wake up, for Planet's love! Don't……don't……die on me……..", he trailed off, a lump forming in his throat. No. Reeve couldn't do this to him. They had just really gotten to know each other better. To really like each other. Reeve couldn't die now. Not after he had failed to save Lucrecia, Aeris and Shalua as well. Vincent viewed Reeve as……his best friend. He was as of now the one person that understood Vincent the most.

Tearing his eyes away from Reeve's fallen form to look ahead, Vincent realized in dismay that they still had quite a ways to go to make it to the med ward. And…….they would make it.

Vincent decided right then and there that he would save Reeve's life just like Reeve had saved his during the first siege. He would not allow his pride to get the better of him this time.

Slipping one hand underneath Reeve's neck, Vincent ever so gently slipped the other underneath the man's knees, careful of his injuries, and lifted Reeve up. He was surprisingly light. Vincent doubted that Reeve had eaten much throughout the whole Deepground stress. He was no heavy burden to bear.

He'd carry Reeve then. Just as Reeve had carried him through hard times as well. Not literally, but symbolically. Because of Reeve, Vincent had become more open and….at ease with himself. More light-hearted and….happy almost.

So he rose to full height, Reeve in his arms, and made for the med ward and as brisk a pace as he could manage holding a human being. He raced down the halls, glancing at Reeve every few seconds to make sure he hadn't stopped breathing.

His best friend held on weakly, as Vincent neared the medical facilities. Reeve's labored, uneven, shallow breaths spurred Vincent into a run. He was afraid that after losing Shalua, Reeve would lose all will to live. Though he was fervently glad it hadn't happened, Vincent had actually thought that Reeve could have quite possibly died already, perhaps giving up because he thought there was nothing more to live for.

And Vincent knew that feeling too well.

They rounded a corner, and Vincent could see the now shattered doors of the medical ward up ahead. Though he hadn't uttered prayers in years, it seemed he was doing it more often now. This one was to ensure that there was at least enough staff and supplies to care for Reeve.

He resorted to kicking open the battered entrance, and the sight that met him was nothing short of relieving. At least something was going right after all these hardships. The facilities were still relatively intact, save for anything that was made of glass. Seeing that that had been the most breakable of any item, it seemed to have been quick to shatter, for no healing tubes remained, save for the one Vincent had seen in their refuge room earlier. And to top his good luck off, there were people. Living, breathing people. Not dead ones that he grown so used to seeing. And among those people, at the end of the long ward, was someone Vincent recognized.

"Dr. Niel!", he broke into a run once more, glancing down at Reeve to check up on his friend's condition. It didn't look good. If anything, his friend looked paler and more haggard than before, and his breaths more labored. But he'd be all right now. He'd survive. He had too.

"Dr. Niel!"

Vincent shouted once more, and the familiar person in a tattered white coat turned in his direction. Yes, Dr. Samuel Niel was still alive. Bruised, and battered, but still very much alive. Vincent pondered distantly if the doctor had any idea how happy he was to see him at the moment. The medic was Reeve's rescuer.

The doctor cocked an eyebrow at Vincent, obviously confused at why he would be barreling through the med ward at such an ungodly pace. It was then that his gaze traveled down to the person Vincent held in his arms. His eyes widened as he recognized the person to be…….Reeve. Taking a few steps forward, he eventually broke into a run and met Vincent halfway down the large corridor.

"Mr. Valentine, dear Planet, where did you find him?"

Vincent paused for a moment to catch his breath, and decided the doctor had every right to call him by his first name. The man had assisted in saving his life; therefore he should be allowed the privilege to treat Vincent as an acquaintance of sorts.

"Just Vincent……is fine. And I found Reeve in the command center. I attempted to…..heal him with materia, but mine wasn't enough. He's……not doing well, doctor. There are wounds on his chest that have become infected, and his knee……."

Vincent trailed off, voice catching in his throat. This was too much. The pain of loss he was feeling today was nearly too much to bear. The soldiers……..Shalua…….and now if Reeve……he had only ever failed to save one person at a time. Never so many in one day.

He watched as Dr. Niel yelled for a stretcher, and then gently pulled Reeve's torn garments away from his chest to reveal nasty, swelling gashes. Vincent saw the medic grimace and swallow hard before he moved his gaze to Reeve's knee. The doctors practiced hands pulled up the tattered pant leg to reveal the horribly red, swelling limb. The injuries themselves, with enough materia, bed rest and care, were, in fact, not fatal. But combined with trauma, tragedies, and severe depression, the healing process was extremely hindered. One couldn't be healed if he himself had no will to live. And it didn't seem like Reeve was fighting at all.

"Bastard……", Vincent heard the doctor hiss in distress. "He killed her. And her death is killing him. He must have known this would happen."

Vincent registered, as paramedics arrived with a stretcher, that Dr. Niel was speaking of Azul. And then it dawned on him. This must have been Azul's plan. The crazed Tsviet had somehow deduced that Reeve and Shalua were in love, and had used the information to his advantage. Rage ripped through Vincent's insides. Azul knew that if he killed Shalua, even without killing Reeve, the WRO Commissioner would be devastated and heartbroken. He would eventually lose his will to live and die. And that would get rid of the WRO. Azul must have done extensive research on the ex-Shinra executive. Vincent had to agree with the doctor. That Tsviet was a sick, conniving bastard.

"Vincent……Vincent?"

Vincent blinked, and looked to see the doctor and the paramedics staring at him in concern. He realized that at the moment he must be sporting an expression akin to loathing and murder, so he quickly called back his trusty old emotionless mask. Though this time, it didn't quite work. The sadness and pain he felt while cradling his injured friend in his arms would not be covered by a blank look.

"Vincent, you have to let go of Reeve………", Sam murmured gently, laying a hand on Vincent's shoulder. He felt for the man. Vincent had a look of indescribable sorrow on his face as he looked down at Reeve. It was heart wrenching to see this strong, hardened warrior so shaken by the events that had occurred. Sam didn't doubt that Vincent knew about Shalua. And he would speak to him about it afterwards. When Reeve was well out of earshot. Unconscious or not.

Vincent swallowed, and realized that he had zoned out, all the while gripping Reeve tightly. He quickly surrendered his best friend to the paramedics, who helped him ease Reeve onto the stretcher. He didn't at all want to let Reeve go. In fact, he wished he could remain by his friend's bedside and will him back into consciousness. But he couldn't. He would be of more assistance to Reeve if he helped control the chaos in the Headquarters, and got rid of any remaining Deepground soldiers that might still be lingering in the building. As much as his friend needed him right now, he was needed more elsewhere. Reeve would understand that. And he would appreciate it.

He watched in a daze as his friend was attached to tubes of all sorts, and was encouraged to breath through an oxygen mask. The paramedics had pulled out various globes of cure and restore materia, that must be thought to aid his healing process. But Vincent could see they were weak, and exhausted already. Reeve must not have been the only patient. And it seemed they didn't have enough Ether to keep them going as it was. This wasn't going to heal Reeve completely. He needed a safe place to rest and recover. And Vincent doubted that it was wise to keep Reeve here, although…….maybe this wasn't the worst place either. Deepground was obviously finished with the Headquarters, and Vincent didn't think they had the intention of coming back. They didn't care about a few lone rebellious soldiers. They would work on their goal. The awakening of Omega.

"Reeve isn't the first one to have been brought here in bad condition. We…..we're losing strength quickly. Our Ether supply has pretty much run out, and getting them to take a break is all I can do so that they don't collapse from exhaustion. Most all available potions and healing items have long since been used up…….he'll have to hold out until we can get some more……or at least until we can get him a safe place to recover. And Vincent?"

Vincent raised his head to glance at the doctor with a soft, "Hm?"

"You can call me Sam. It's what Reeve calls me…..and Shalua…..called me. You're a friend to the WRO and to myself. It's good that you got Reeve here when you did. It could have turned out much worse……."

"I realize……..", Vincent muttered. He was, in fact, thinking of something different. He absently fingered his last remaining Ether, one that he'd been keeping for an emergency. And if this wasn't one, then he didn't know what was. His gloved hand then moved to the pocket into which he'd stuffed Shalua's Cure 3 materia. It hadn't crossed his then frantic mind to return it to her…….and now……He supposed a weight would have been lifted off Shalua's heart if he used the small sphere to aid in healing Reeve's injuries. He owed it to her.

Sam looked on as Vincent pulled out the Ether, and rolled the glowing green cure materia around in his hand.

"I can help", Vincent murmured resolutely, moving to stand over Reeve. Swallowing the Ether, he felt his magic and energy reserves fill up somewhat, and he placed the materia over Reeve's knee. His friend would need the limb if he wanted to be back fighting Deepground again. It was most important at the moment.

The eerie green glow of the globe surrounded Reeve's mangled knee, and Vincent pushed into the spell all the power he could muster. If it didn't cure the injury completely, perhaps it would reduce it to only a sprain.

Luck seemed to be on Vincent's side in the past half hour, for the shattered knee was reduced to a mere sprain. But one that Reeve would still have good trouble walking on for a while. Though at least it was no longer nearly as bad as before.

Vincent let out a soft breath of relief, and stepped back, pocketing the materia. He swayed a bit from the severe loss of energy, now aware that the pain in his chest had begun to return. He felt Sam's gentle hand steady him, and a simple Potion being pushed into his hand.

"Easy, Vincent. That was a very selfless thing you just did. Here. Take it. It's one I managed to save for an…..emergency. Go on. It will help with the exhaustion…….."

"No…..", Vincent managed, and then clutched at his chest. The pain had escalated in a matter of seconds. Black dots filled his vision, threatening to knock him out into blissful darkness. Not now. He had work to do.

"Vincent, please. Don't let your stubborn nature get in the way…….", he heard Sam's soothing voice, and felt himself being guided to sit on one of the few still intact chairs. The potion was held to his lips, and finally he gave in, too weak and hurting to argue. The result was nearly instantaneous. The pain ebbed slowly, and the exhaustion was lifted as well. Vincent blinked slowly, and stared into Sam's concerned face.

"Where does it hurt, Vincent?", the doctor probed, gently moving a hand to Vincent's chest. His first thought was to leap up and pull away, but he trusted the medic and let him feel his chest for any abnormalities. At one point, Sam pressed the still healing spot where Rosso had ripped out the Protomateria. It took all Vincent's willpower not to scream in pain. Instead the discomfort manifested itself in a loud moan of agony and a shudder. Sam quickly removed his hand, and rubbed Vincent's shoulder until the pain subsided. Vincent panted heavily, and rubbed his eyes, looking past the doctor to where Reeve lay on the stretcher, surrounded by paramedics.

At that moment, he immediately decided he needed to know for sure that Reeve would be fine. This whole time, he had just assumed it, telling himself that there was no way he would fail to save another loved one. But now he thought that perhaps asking for Sam's diagnosis wouldn't be a bad idea.

"Sam…..", he muttered weakly, chest still heaving from the severe bouts of pain. "Will he……he'll be…..all right…..won't he?"

There was a short pause before Sam answered him. The medic stood, and wandered over to Reeve, looking down at the man before making direct eye contact with Vincent.

"He will heal. I'm sure of that. But……it will take plenty of time for him to make a full recovery. Physically and…….mentally. He should stay lying down for at least two good weeks, and be properly nourished and hydrated, as well as catch up on some sleep, but I know that the second he's conscious again and at least partially fit, he'll be off fixing whatever's been broken here. We're launching an attack on Deepground with all the forces we still have, so he'll feel responsible to be there as the Commissioner of the WRO. I don't blame him and I can't stop him, but I just hope he will allow himself at least a few days……..though I doubt Deepground can wait that long……."

Vincent gave an audible sigh of relief. Reeve would be alright, just as he had hoped. And he would do everything in his power to help his friend on the way to recovery. Even if it meant…….hugging him. And consoling him. They were things that Vincent had never dreamed of doing often, but the more he did them, the more he realized what just a simple pat on the back or an encouraging phrase could do to a person. It could make their day. Giving a deathly ill patient a hug, or offering a depressed person a kind word would reassure them more than anyone could imagine. And Vincent felt he hadn't done that often enough, if at all. Reeve and Shalua had taught him the benefits of human contact. And now he would try his best not to let their advice go ignored.

With that thought in his mind, Vincent stood shakily, letting himself be steadied by Sam. With the doctor's assistance, he walked over to Reeve and looked down into the face of his injured friend.

"I'll….be back, Sam", Vincent murmured softly. "I must go…..offer my assistance. We can speak about it……later. Where did you put her?"

"I understand. We put her in the room with the only intact healing tube. She's in there now. Your friend Yuffie came and asked about her condition. We told her--------"

Vincent held up his hand and put a finger to his lips, glancing down at Reeve. Passed out or not, he didn't need to here about Shalua's current state. He needed to concentrate on getting well.

Sam seemed to understand, and let go of Vincent, who seemed to want to take his leave. The latter turned, cape flying, and began to stride towards the exit. Suddenly, a miniscule whimper stopped him dead in his tracks.

"V…in…cen…t?"

Vincent swallowed hard, willing himself not to turn back. Surprised murmurs had broken out amongst the paramedics, and that could only be the result of one thing.

Reeve had regained consciousness.

But the soft plea didn't stop there. Before Vincent could continue his walk towards the doors, Reeve spoke again, a little more confidently.

"P…Please….Vince….don't….leave……"

Vincent's heart broke in two at the desperate request, but he still refused to turn back. He had a job to do, for Reeve, since the man was in no shape to do it himself. Taking charge of the WRO for a while would be the least he could do for his friend.

"Vincent…..please….no……"

He squeezed his eyes shut and prepared to step forward, when a gentle but firm hand gripped his wrist from the right. Starting, he spun around to face Sam, who had rather quietly walked up behind him, and was now staring at Vincent with grim determination on his face.

"Vincent. I am fully aware that you wish to assist Reeve by helping the forces regroup, but now that he's…..conscious…..couldn't you……spare at least, what…..ten, fifteen minutes to stay with him? He's your friend, Vincent. And he has just been through……", Sam paused shortly, obviously unable to find words descriptive enough for the horrors Reeve had endured. So Vincent helped him along.

"…..Hell", he murmured softly, just loud enough for Sam to hear. The medic gave a slight nod, agreeing with the used term.

"Yes. Exactly. And he will continue going through that for a while, considering the circumstances. Vincent. All he needs is the presence of someone he trusts with his life nearby. I'm sure you could grant him that wish……even if it's just for a short time…….I'm asking you as a doctor, and as a…….friend. Please…..please don't leave him alone like this……."

Vincent found himself understanding before he even knew what was happening. Usually, it took forever for him to agree to something like this, if he at all agreed to it. But somehow this time, it was different. He nodded before he could stop himself, and turned, closing the distance between himself and Reeve in a matter of seconds.

The paramedics moved out of the way, and Vincent bent over the stretcher where Reeve lay, eyes now half open and glazed over in pain and grief. His friend blinked weakly, and gazed up at him. The look startled Vincent. He hadn't realized that someone as innocent as Reeve could completely trust someone like himself. Because that was the look Reeve was giving him.

One of complete, and utter trust.

"Don't…..leave……", came the exhausted whisper once more, and Vincent noticed that his friend must not yet be completely coherent. He was here. So why was Reeve still begging him to stay?

"Don't……..", the airy voice was now laced with pain. Reeve's features contorted into a grimace of agony as he attempted to sit up. Vincent's eyes widened.

"Reeve, no. Stay down……", he spoke gently, using his metal claw to push Reeve back down onto the stretcher before the paramedics pounced on him. When Reeve continued to struggle weakly, Vincent resorted to something he didn't think he'd have to use so soon.

Human contact.

Without removing his mechanical limb from Reeve's shoulder, Vincent removed the glove from his human hand, and grasped Reeve's hand in his, holding it tightly. His friend immediately stopped struggling, and sagged back onto the stretcher, gripping Vincent's hand in his just as tightly.

"It's alright. I'm here", Vincent heard himself saying, now in a surprisingly kind tone. He had never in his life expected himself to be capable of reassuring another human being so successfully. He was rewarded with a ghost of a smile from Reeve, and he felt the man relax beneath his grip, and give his hand a weak squeeze as well.

"Thank….you….."

Reeve's eyes drooped closed at that statement, and the paramedics took that opportunity to begin to wheel him away towards a bed that hadn't been destroyed. Vincent attempted to free his hand from Reeve's grip, but it seemed the injured man was so in need of comfort that he had clutched Vincent's hand to the point that it would involve a harsh pull to remove. And Vincent didn't want to cause his friend any unnecessary pain. Therefore he relented and let himself be guided towards the bed by the rolling stretcher.

He held Reeve's hand through the process of lifting him onto the soft mattress, and continued holding it still while the tubes were reattached, the wounds disinfected, and the bandages wrapped around his injuries. At the end of it, Sam pulled up two chairs for both of them, and they sat, keeping vigil over their friend, along with a nurse in case the situation became serious.

It was then that Reeve opened his eyes again, painstakingly focusing them on Vincent once more. Vincent could see that they were not clear, but rather hazy from the fever he was running due to the infection. So Vincent prepared himself for delusional ramblings, or hallucinations. But nothing prepared him for what Reeve uttered then.

"I…..I loved her……"

Vincent and Sam both snapped to attention at once, now intently focused on Reeve. They hadn't for the life of them thought that he would speak of that. Anything under the sun, but not that subject. Not now.

"And I……I still…..do….."

Vincent opened his mouth to say something, anything to make the man feel better, but no words came out.

"Why?……I don't……I don't understand…….I loved her……."

Sam gave Vincent a helpless look, one that Vincent returned with the same emotion. If Sam didn't know what to say to Reeve, then how was he supposed to?

"Planet……I…….how am I going to…….go on?"

The phrase startled Vincent out of his plight. This is what he had wanted to hinder. Reeve could not lose his will to live. Not when everyone needed him the most. Not when the WRO needed him. Not when the Planet needed him. Not when Shelke, Yuffie and the rest of AVALANCHE needed him. Not when Vincent……..needed him. His friend was too dear to him to be taken down by grief. And he would make sure he prevented the downward spiral of despair from continuing.

"Reeve……..she loved you too, you know…….."

At this, Reeve lifted his head slightly. A tear began to roll down his cheek, followed by another, and another. Soon, a steady stream of them cascaded down his face, with a look of downright anguish etched into his features. Anguish and pain. An expression, Vincent thought, that was fit to rival that of his own after he had awoken in that healing tube thirty three years ago and found Lucrecia to be gone and his body to be horrifically altered.

"She told me…….the last words…..that she spoke……were of you, Reeve. She told me…..she told me that she……she loved you more than life…..itself. More than words can….describe. And that….she wants you to move on…….that she'll….always be with you……."

Vincent's voice had become a mere whisper throughout the short speech, and it took all his willpower not to let his emotions overcome him. Saying those words, he felt like he was describing his love to Lucrecia. Because that was, in fact, what he felt. He was completely, and utterly in love with the women that might be the reason he housed one of the most powerful demons in the universe inside him. But his devotion surpassed any doubts he might have over her actions. He trusted her blindly. Just like Reeve and Shalua had trusted each other.

Just like Reeve trusted him.

"I know you loved her. And I…..understand it will take time. It will be difficult for you to come to terms with it, Reeve, but I'm sure you will learn……that letting go is not as hard as it may seem……"

Vincent felt like a hypocrite saying those words. He hadn't let go of Lucrecia yet……but he supposed he would learn to……eventually……he had let go of someone dear, though. Someone else. And he knew Reeve had too.

"Reeve. Remember……..Aeris. She died……to save the Planet and it's inhabitants. And I believe……we have all let go of her……even Cloud, though it must have been…….difficult for him to do so. And I believe she is…..always with us…..to lend us a helping hand…..or a comforting presence…….Shalua will too, Reeve……trust me……"

Reeve's tears then turned into full blown sobs, and he attempted to curl into a painful ball, clutching Vincent's hand tighter. Vincent propped their held hands up on the side of the bed by the elbows, and attempted to sooth Reeve by rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb. This did little to relieve his friend's agony, but worked a bit just the same. After long minutes, Reeve's sobs abated, and his eyelids began to close drowsily as he tried to fight against the pain medication that was lulling him to sleep.

"Don't fight it, Reeve. Sleep it off……it will do you good…..", Sam's soft voice penetrated the silence that was now only disturbed by the whirring and beeping of machines.

But before Reeve dropped off to sleep, his weary, anguished eyes found Vincent's again, and he uttered words that seemed to Vincent like a twisted déjà vu. All he could to was sit and stare, unable to get any more words out of his mouth.

"I love her, Vincent…….I love her……so much……"

And with that, the injured man's eyes closed, and he succumbed to sleep. A long period of silence followed after this, in which Sam stared sadly at Reeve's now sleeping form while laying a hand on Vincent's shoulder.

Vincent just……well, he didn't know what to do. So he resorted to letting his forehead fall forward, supported only by his and Reeve's entwined hands. His friend's grip had long since fallen limp, but Vincent wouldn't let go. He couldn't. He had failed Reeve in the worst way possible. The person he loved most had died before Vincent's eyes, and what had he done? Nothing. He had been powerless to hinder her death, even though he knew that there was nothing more he could have done.

"Survivors guilt, of course", he thought wryly, wishing that this was all a bad dream……a nightmare. It was then that he distantly registered another sound, one that didn't belong to the mass of noises emitted from the machinery. Listening closer, he sighed as he realized what it was. Closing his eyes, he let himself slip into a state of numbness, attempting to block out the sound.

The female nurse sitting across from them had started to cry.

Well, Switzerland is calling on Saturday for about a week and a half, and unfortunately, there is no internet access where I plan to stay. So I'll attempt to post another chapter before I leave, or I'll try to get to an internet cafe in the town there. If not, well then I'll just enjoy my vacation and you good people will just have to patiently wait. I love ya all for it though. Cheers!