Dear Reader: Due to my pregnancy, I have put all my stories on hiatus. I have a lot of catching up to do on a couple of multi-chaptered fics I've left behind, but they will have to wait till early next year before I can start on any of them. I thank all readers for your patience and reviews, they are very dear to me. Here's a preview of the next chapter for this fic, untill then. Thanks again!
It's Never Over
Part IV
Dean sits in the hospital lounge, silently waiting, whiling the time away on empty thoughts. He resents the fact that he isn't immediate family or someone close enough to Fay so that he would be allowed to be there. Coldly ushered to the waiting room, he can only stare at the clock, shifting his sights occasionally to the blank walls and the door, waiting for anybody to pass by. Preferably, a person who could tell him what the bloody hell is going on right now! There was no way he could make a call to that bastard when he doesn't even know what number to call, and the nurses refuses to give out any of Fay's personal information to him, regardless of the fact that he was the one who had called the ambulance and accompanied Fay in. At the very least, he thought, he could nurse his anger. Rage is a wonderful emotion when fuel with the right concoction. Dean lets the heat of it rush through him and wash away the stupor of sleep. He can't do anything right now but to wait for someone to inform him that Fay has woke up.
Meanwhile, he keeps his eyes open for another person he has been waiting for throughout the night. And as if Fate wills it herself Dean spots the tall silhouette of the man he is waiting for walks right past the room, his hassled demeanor and unsettled look in his eyes meant that he must had seen Fay already. Dean stands and approached the door just as Kurogane steps past it, he watches him walk nearer and nearer to the elevator and grips the frame of the door till his knuckles turn white. He doesn't understand why Kurogane isn't staying beside Fay at this crucial moment. His anger does not allow him to analyze what might have happened, only allows him to think of the loneliness and pain that Fay had suffered to end up in here. Dean's steps are slow as he lets go of the door frame and moves toward Kurogane, watches his sagging frame and luxuriates in the aura of defeat radiating from the man. It's good to know that he isn't the only one feeling miserable. Dean stops walking only when he's just an arm length behind Kurogane, he's not going to move until they are alone. He's not going to let anyone stop him from mating out the justice he deems appropriate for such a motherfucker.
ooooooooo
Brevity.
White sounds, muted whispers, distant conversations and an unidentified brightness beyond his closed eyelids.
Fay wakes to a frozen second before everything snaps into place, and he feels the warmth of his blood rushing through his veins and the shallow breathes that makes his lungs ache. It takes time to realize that he doesn't want to be here, alive. There are shades of white that he thought he will end up in, immersing himself not in rumored paradise but in static surroundings, with memories that he cannot forget but washed white. White and empty. His hopes of gaining mortality crumbled away, a chipping off of gossamer dreams and they languished like silk left to rot in stale water. His soul swims in disappointment, soft sand in the bottom of the pond where the soles of his feet barely touches, a sinking swirl of scum rushing into his mouth as he struggles to breathe, or, not breathe. The smell of burnt bittersweet almonds paints the inside of his airways, his bloodstream still mingled with the warmth of his brother's blood. His first gasp came out raw, drawn out and raspy. The sound startles a nurse walking pass his door. She dashes in and jabs the red button by the head of the bed, the doctor is alerted immediately and when the oxygen mask is taken off his face, he lashes out with flailing arms, a pathetic attempt at keeping help away. He cries out his defiance against coming alive, in silence with his mouth open; who knew it would be so painful to even breathe?
Miyaki jolts awake upon the scurrying footsteps of the medical staff entering the room. She absorbs the confusion in snatches as her mind wakens fitfully within micro-seconds. Turquoise green and pale pink uniforms flashing past her eyes, words instead of sentences connected with her instincts, regain consciousness, sedate…too agitated. She sprung to her feet pulling at George's sleeve at the same time with a curt and loud, he's awake, and rushes into the room, heedless of the waif like nurse trying to impede her from interrupting their work. She pulls against the useless restrains of the nurse's hands, eyes focused on her baby being man-handled and strapped down, until she hears the voice of her husband behind her with a calming voice and a warm palm on her shoulder. Angry and grateful at the same time, that he has the strength to still keep his composure and emotions under check.
"Let them do their job." He says quietly and lets his hand slips down her upper arm to her elbow.
"But he's awake! Why are they making him sleep again?" she shrills unable to hold back her hysteria, letting flow the worries and tension that has been bottled up ever since she got the phone call, "tell them to stop! I want to talk to my baby!" she continues as she jerks at the hand cradling her elbow.
She has already lost her place in Fay's life, and she's not sure how much could still be lost. As it is, she could barely feel an echo of what is left of him, can't deny the urge to pretend that none of this is real, and can't push away the immense failure and guilt of a mother because she doesn't know what exactly is hurting him. She feels that it is her fault that he lays here now, emaciated and wasted. But she can't close her eyes to this. She hadn't realized that she had long ago blinded herself to Fay's existence once he left the family home, never tried hard enough to reach out to him, always thinking that the ugly episode will blow over one day and Fay will come home.
But he isn't. He's been busy running in the direction where Death's lair lay.
oooooooooo
Kurogane saw the fist coming and then, sharp jarring pain, before he saw the person who attacked him as the lift doors slide shut in the background. He clutched at the left side of his face, momentarily blinded by pain, feeling the burning throb acutely.
"What the fuck!" he blurted out as he raised his arm to fend off further attacks. It didn't stop the foot that kicked viciously into the side of his ribs though. That blow sent him crumpling to his knees but he managed to swipe his other arm up to the panel of buttons of buttons, hoping blindly that he had hit the 'open' button. Another kick brought him slamming against the wall of the lift before he pushed off in the other direction just in time to avoid another vicious kick.
"Feel the pain?" a low snarl of words as the man stepped up to him, grabbing him by the collar of his tee-shirt, "A pity I can never hurt you the way you hurt him!"