Trauma Center: Illness

Cybil: Post-Op

"How are you feeling, Dr. Myers?"

Cybil bit back a groan as she blinked her eyes, trying to flush out the last bits of grogginess. She took an unsteady breath as pain induced nausea pulsed through her. "I've felt worse." She muttered hoarsely. A short chuckle rippled to her in response. Her surroundings slipped sickeningly in her eyes and she narrowed them, forcing the room to still. She managed to get a better look around before the images began to spill in front of her. Fatigue tingled in her eyes as she closed them. "Bedside vigil . . . that's not like you, Victor." She felt him stiffen at her bedside and a defensive shrug jerk at his shoulders.

"What? I can't keep an eye on my colleagues?"

She chuckled slightly, regretting it immediately when a sharp pain cut through her. Agony clenched her face tightly and a hiss almost slipped from her teeth. "You're going to want to keep as still as possible." Victor said, reaching for something at the bedside. Cybil felt her glasses being slipped back on her face and she opened her eyes. Her vision was still blurred, but the grim undertone of Victor's normally indifferent expression came into focus. "You had GUILT. Paraskevi."

"Ah, the 'pain in the ass' as you so eloquently dubbed it."

"You almost died, you know."

A brief silence descended heavily upon them and Cybil's thoughts squirmed slightly under the pressure of it. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're okay."

They both heard a light knocking at the doorway. Cybil's view of the door had been obstructed, but Victor saw who was standing at it clear as day and, had her attention not been diverted, she would have seen a scowl twitch underneath his stoic expression. "Oh, you have a visitor." His voice was slightly strained as he lapped up the displeasure that dripped from his tongue. His tone had gone unnoticed as Cybil focused on the footsteps that started into the room. Her heart pulsed with a jolt as a familiar pair of brown eyes met her own. Victor coughed. "I'll leave you two, then." His hasty steps cut through the air, bringing the other two out of their soft daze. They broke their gaze and turned to his retreating form. "You don't have to leave." Greg tried to say.

"I have to get back to my lab." He cut in and proceeded with his rigid exit, not bothering to spare a glance back.

Greg twisted his mouth as Victor disappeared from his vision and he turned back to the recovering woman. "What's with him?"

"Don't mind Victor. He's a good kid, but as your brother likes to say, he doesn't observe manners." Her mouth pulled itself into a smirk. "I suppose that's the Chief's way of saying he needs to get laid?"

Greg laughed. Another warm heart beat flushed her veins as she let the sound wash over her. It was strong and controlled, just like him. Hearing his rich chuckle caused her to laugh as well, but that was quickly swallowed up by a hiss of pain. He was at her side in an instant. "Are you all right?" Cybil bit and forced the pain down her throat. "I'm okay." She grunted. She refused to show any weakness, though this became difficult as he gently brushed her bangs from her eyes. "I was worried when I heard." He said, a blush coming to the both of them. "Now I know what I put you through."

She closed her eyes and took in his words, and then slowly, a sly grin broke over her face. Gently, she lifted her eyelids and revealed a sharp and narrow stare. "You can make it up to me, you know."

Her lips soon found themselves being hugged by his. Their mouths grappled gently and she sighed as he pulled back, her content breath forming into a pained choke. The medication was fading and her internal injuries were burning in its wake. She took a quick gasp, desperate to keep her agony inside, but it forced itself out. Sweat seeped onto her forehead as a grating cry scratched her throat. She felt Greg's warmth descend upon her, his hand squeezing her own and his other caressing her cheek. "Cybil, you don't have to hide your pain from me." He whispered soothingly. "There's nothing you have to hide from me." She let out a few more labored gasps, but they died down slowly to paced, rhythmic breathing. She opened her clenched eyes and smiled. "I . . . I'm better now. I really am." She added the last part upon noticing his eyes knitting upon her. "Will you . . . stay with me?"

"Of course."

He embraced her as best as he could and ran his fingers through her hair. Her toothy grin melted into a soft smile and her sharp eyes followed, wrapping her mahogany irises tenderly. He leaned in and kissed her again. His sweet breath narrowed her eyes and a feather's touch caressing them as they closed to mere slits. The Iron Vixen was gone, miles away, leaving only a woman in the arms of the man she loved.

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A/N: The old switcharoo indeed. Yeah, Victor's a bit bitter in this one, but he comes to terms with himself later on, after he and Greg have their mud fight.

And another wonderful suggestion from Mooncat!

A character of my choice is to befall hay fever. I wasn't sure which character is should be, when it suddenly hit me with a flash. I think I'm taking a bit of a risk with this next one, but hey. No guts; no glory.

Special notice for those awaiting the next chapter of Paying the Price

I'm going to have to raise the rating from T to M. I hadn't realized just how dark and violent the next chapter would be until I finished writing the skeleton. Just a warning, because it's going to get bloody, gory, and down right disturbing!