A stabbing pain in his frontal lobe in the form of bright light into his dilated pupils brought Vincent awake with a jolt, causing his eyes to suddenly focus and scaring poor Dr. Bugenhagen, penlight still in hand, nearly to death. With a startled shout, Dr. Bugenhagen took several steps back and Vincent blinked rapidly to try to clear his vision of a myriad of white spots. He tried to take a deep breath but an object stuffed down his throat was blocking his attempts. He was dimly aware of an alarm blatting in his right ear as he reached up and tried to claw the thing out of his mouth. He was too weak to remove it and began to choke.
Recovering quickly as his patient began to thrash and the heart monitor went haywire bringing three nurses in at a run, Dr. Bugenhagen looked at the sturdiest one and snapped, "Help me!" Together, he and the nurse grabbed one of Vincent's wrists and tried to hold him down while Dr. Bugenhagen leaned in close to the man's ear. "Mr. Valentine! Calm down! You're hooked up to a ventilator and if you calm down we'll remove it…forget it, it's not working." He looked up at the other two nurses and said sharply, "Well don't just stand there! You, get some straps, if he doesn't quit thrashing, he'll re-open his incision. You, get me a healthy shot of Nembutal, STAT!"
The two nurses left just as quickly as they had arrived and the first one back was the one with nylon Velcro restraints. Moving fast, she managed to immobilize Vincent's legs and moved to the right arm, just as the other returned with a syringe. She traded places with Dr. Bugenhagen, who checked the dosage, squirted out the excess and plunged the needle directly into Vincent's thigh. Within minutes, Vincent's trashing stilled and the man lay in a dazed stupor.
"Well," Dr. Bugenhagen said breathlessly. "I think it's safe to say that his lungs are functioning on their own now. Oh dammit, he opened his incision. I'm going to get some fresh dressings and take a new blood sample; I want to check his levels now. Take him off of the ventilator and restrain him securely. I have a feeling the Velcro won't hold; go and get some buckle-straps. The last thing I want is this remarkable man hurting himself even further."
As the nurses moved to comply with their orders, Dr. Bugenhagen moved to the wall phone and dialed the man's attending. "Mike? It's Paul, you won't believe what just happened. You know that gunshot victim that came in yesterday? Right, the one in the coma, who crashed…yeah, well he just woke up. No, no I'm not kidding. Woke up like he was just having a bad dream and came up swinging. Yeah I'm with him now, we had to restrain him. No, he opened his incision…right, okay…see you in a few." He hung up and took a minute to get his own racing heart back under control. This really had to be some kind of medical history they were making, and he was right in the middle of it! But his word was his word, he had several other calls to make…
Predictably, he woke with unpleasant aches in his neck and back- but he also woke up early, which had been the plan. Except…he had expected the sun to be up. And that noise to be quiet….wait. Noise? That was his phone. Aches forgotten, he dashed to the phone and answered it hurriedly. "Hello?"
"Hello, this is Dr. Bugenhagen, is this a Mr….Highwing?"
"Uh, Highwind, yeah. Is…nothing's wrong, right?" Please let it be good news.
"No, nothing is wrong, Mr. Highwind." Dr. Bugenhagen chuckled. "Rather, it's good news. Mr. Valentine has regained consciousness. He's sedated right now to keep him calm, but his lungs have begun working and he is resting comfortably."
"He's- good. That's…oh, that's wonderful. I knew he'd make it. Thank ye fer callin'. Thank y'so much, doctor, fer everything. I, uh…I don't suppose if I came up there now y'd let me in t'see 'im, huh? But it's still all right for me t'come in at eight, right, like y'said yest'y?" Cid was caught between going back to sleep and sprinting to the hospital in his boxers and slippers, visiting hours or no. "Let 'im know I'll be there, okay? Even if he's sedated, just…let 'im know I'll be there soon's I can."
"I will, Mr. Highwind," Dr. Bugenhagen said sincerely. "And it's all right for you to come at eight. Have a good evening."
"I will. Thanks again, doc." After hanging up, Cid snorted. Evening had been over a long time ago. He set his alarm clock and spent the rest of his "evening" in bed. He woke four hours later, showered, and threw on some fresh clothes. Having taken the bus, Cid arrived at the hospital at seven o' clock- he liked the cafeteria's food and decided he might as well have breakfast there. He ate more quickly than was necessary, found himself needing to kill another half-hour, and elected to simply sit and watch people. Many stopped to look at the stuffed bandersnatch in the seat beside him, but most –and only a few were present, anyway, and mostly employees- just ignored him and went about their business. He made a suddenly extremely necessary bathroom run, checked the clock, and set off in the direction of Vincent's room, idly smoothing his clothing and finger-combing his hair as he walked down the wide halls. At exactly five to eight, he reached Vincent's door and promptly started pacing in front of it.
Vincent spent that night drifting in and out of lucidity. He would just get to sleep then someone would come in and take his temperature or blood pressure, and his head both hurt and felt fuzzy. His chest felt like there was a great weight on it and he couldn't move his arms or legs. At another point, a nurse came in, lifted the sheet covering his waist and there was a burning in his penis as she changed his catheter, then he was left alone again. He couldn't focus his thoughts and it hurt to breathe so he gave in to sleep for another precious hour before he was woken up…again.
"Good morning, Mr. Valentine!" the nurse said rather loudly, a chipper older woman who clucked and fussed over him needlessly. "And how are we this morning?"
"N-" He swallowed with difficulty and tried again. "Not deaf," he rasped.
She laughed, which irritated him a little. "Oh, you are funny." She lightly swatted his shoulder before putting the stethoscope buds in her ear. "Let me just take your blood pressure here…" she wrapped the cuff around his arm and inflated it with a quick 'piff-piff-piff' and slowly let it out. "Are you in any pain?" She asked as she watched the second hand on her wristwatch.
"Chest…hurts," he managed, and tried to move his arms again. "Wh-" Another swallow. "Why can't I move…my arms?" He had to talk slowly as he couldn't seem to get enough air.
This only seemed to make the nurse talk more loudly, and over punctuate her words as though he couldn't understand her. "You've been restrained. And your chest hurts because you had a very nasty little gunshot wound."
Since when were gunshot wounds 'little'? he thought wryly, and he liked the idea of being restrained even less. He shook his wrists weakly, even as he fought a mild case of panic. "Not…necessary…"
"I'll ask your doctor if they can be removed, Mr. Valentine. In the meantime is there anything I can get you?"
"Water," he wheezed, trying to lick his dry lips with a thick tongue that felt like a hunk of cotton.
"I'll see what I can do, all right?" She patted his arm in a motherly fashion, gathered her blood pressure cuff and stethoscope and left. As she shut the door she narrowly missed colliding with a rough-looking blond man. She frowned. "I'm sorry, can I help you?"
"Uh, Dr. Bugenhagen said I c'd come in at eight t'see 'im, even though it's an hour early. Do I need t'wait a little while? I mean, if y're busy, I'll just..." Cid gestured vaguely at the hall, trying to tell her that he would continue to pace if he wasn't allowed inside yet.
She eyed him, not liking the way he looked. "Dr. Bugenhagen said that?" She shook her head, not believing him. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you please go out to the waiting room. Visitation is at nine. O'clock."
"An' I'm gonna have t'ask you t'imagine what it felt like this mornin' when I heard he woke up. That man in there? He means th'whole world t'me. Yesterday I thought he was dyin', an' t'day I get a call sayin' he's awake…" Cid shook his head; it was actually all just coming together for him. "Look, he prob'ly ain't ready fer visitors anyway, but I promised 'im I'd be here at eight, an' it's eight, an' I'm here. An' if y'don't believe me, call Bugenhagen yerself. While you're doin' that, I'll sneak in an' see m'Vincent anyway. How's that?"
"Sir," the nurse said, getting defensive. "Am I going to have to call hospital security? If I let everyone in that said a doctor told them they could, there would be chaos in this hospital! I'm sorry if the last 24 hours have been difficult for you, but he'll still be here in an hour. Now. Go. Wait. In. The. Waiting room."
Sizing up the woman in front of him, Cid decided it was probably in his best interest to at least pretend to back down. He gave a theatrical sigh and shuffled his feet, shooting her a dejected look. "All right. I'll be back at nine, but don't think I won't be complainin' t'the doctor about this. I ain't one t'break a promise. Not t'Vincent, especially."
"You're certainly welcome to." The nurse huffed, putting her hands on her very ample hips.
"I'm sorry, is there a problem here?" Dr. Bugenhagen asked, smiling as he approached the two.
"Nope," Cid said brightly. "No problem at all. She was just steppin' aside so I c'd get in t'see Vincent."
The nurse spluttered. "I most certainly was not!" She turned to Dr. Bugenhagen. "I'm sorry doctor, but this man claims that you told him he could be here an hour early."
Dr. Bugenhagen blinked and said slowly, "But, I did tell him that."
The nurse looked startled, then very displeased. "I'm sorry, doctor, but that is expressly against hospital regulation, you know as well as I that-"
"Patti," Dr. Bugenhagen sighed. "I am well aware of 'hospital regulation', but given the severity of this man's condition and the fact that he had died the night before, I made an allowance. Now, you are most welcome to file a complaint, but my approval to allow this man in stands, and I know you have other patients that you need to see, now go on."
With another huff, Patti glared once more at the blond, before scuttling off down the hall.
Rubbing his temple he turned back to Cid. "I'm sorry, Mr. Highwind, she's a bit of a stickler for rules, but a very good nurse. Please, go ahead and go on in, I'll join you shortly."
Unable to resist the urge, Cid sent a whispered "Told ya so," in the retreating nurse's direction, only to clear his throat, chagrined, as Bugenhagen looked at him, amused. "Couldn't help it. Some of us never grow up, y'know?" He thanked the doctor again and timidly pushed open the door. Part of him had expected Vincent to be in better condition than this, but that was the over-hopeful part. The rational portion was surprised that Vincent was awake, and even more surprised to see that a good deal of the color –what little there was on a good day- had returned to his face. "Hey there," Cid said quietly, setting the bandersnatch in the far chair at the end of the room before going to Vincent's side and frowning at the restraints. "I'd ask how y're feelin', but that'd be a stupid question even fer me."
As soon as the nurse had left, Vincent had begun feebly working at his restraints and managed to get himself good and frustrated when someone walked into his room. He stared at the man dumbly for moment, unable to identify him. Suddenly it clicked. He knew this man. "Cid," he said, his voice barely above a painful whisper. He 'rattled' his restraints. "I c-" He swallowed again. Where was that damned nurse with his water? "I can't move my arms…" he said plaintively.
"I know. I'm sorry." He looked around. Where was Bugenhagen? Surely now that he knew where he was, Vincent's restraints could be removed… "Th'doctor's gonna be in here in just a minute. He'll take 'em off, prob'ly." Vincent seemed unusually panicked by not being able to move his arms…but then Cid thought about it, and it wasn't unusual at all. He needed them off. It wasn't fair to leave him like this. This was as much torture for Vincent as the pain would have been for anyone else. One more quick look around guaranteed that no one was looking. "If anybody asks, th'nurse took 'em off," Cid instructed, grinning because he could tell that Vincent hadn't really processed what he'd said. He was too focused on Cid's hands undoing the buckles and easing his right arm out of the straps. "Don't you make me regret this, Valentine," he teased, moving around to release Vincent from the left one as well.
Sighing in relief he brought his hand up and rubbed his eyes, wheezing. His panic receding and his heartbeat slowing –illustrated by a slower 'beep-pause-beep-pause-beep' of his heart monitor- he put his arm back down and looked again at Cid. He managed a weak smile. "You came. I knew you would." His chest hurt so badly. He shut his eyes. "I knew you would."
"Of course I did," Cid said softly, the smile on Vincent's face reflected and amplified on his. "I wouldn't be anywhere else." He could see, in the brief moments before they closed, the pain in those red eyes. Hadn't they given him anything? He'd ask, when Bugenhagen came back. "Don't worry 'bout talkin' t'me. I ain't goin' anywhere. You just rest." He crossed the room to retrieve the chair, and then realize he had nothing to do with the bandersnatch except hold it or force it on Vincent. For the moment, he set it in his lap after sitting down with his back to the door. "I'm so glad y'came back to us, Vincent," he said, and then added more quietly, "but m'sorry y'had to."
"Chose to," Vincent sighed and with a wince, fell into a half-dozing stupor once again.
Shortly thereafter, Dr. Bugenhagen entered the room. "I'm sorry, I had to stop in and see a patient who was having difficulty moving…" He stopped and frowned at the restraints that were no longer on his patient. He turned to Cid and asked, "Did you do that?"
"Uhhh…" Cid said stupidly, scratching the back of his neck. "Well it ain't like he w's goin' anywhere," he continued, face lighting up as he realized he'd forgotten his plan to blame the nurse. "Just…shit like that really bothers 'im. I mean really, really messes with 'im. He wasn't gonna get no rest like that."
"Mr. Highwind, he was placed in restraints for his own protection." Dr. Bugenhagen said sternly. "He was highly combative when he woke up. I need you to not interfere with his treatment. You might do something irreversible. This is for his own good."
"Does he look 'highly combative' now?" Cid asked, eyebrow raised. "Look, physical injuries heal a hell of a lot faster than other kinds, 'specially fer him. If he'd hurt 'imself, he'd be fine. If y'leave 'im all tied up like that, he won't. There ain't no reason for 'im t'be at yer mercy. He's awake now an' mostly all there, so he c'n make decisions fer 'imself. An' he wanted th'damned restraints off an' they're gonna stay off." Cid had the distinct feeling that he was going to get himself kicked out soon if he continued to argue the point.
Dr. Bugenhagen frowned deeply. "If you wish to continue visiting my patient, I'll ask you not to interfere again." Without waiting for the man to reply, he walked over to the patient in question. Leaning over him, Dr. Bugenhagen said, "Mr. Valentine? Can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes, son."
"Not…your son," Vincent said weakly, trying to lick his lips again.
"No, you're not, it's just a term. Now I need you to open your eyes for me, can you do that? Look at me, now."
With a small sound of pain, Vincent turned his head to look more fully at Dr. Bugenhagen, blinking as he tried to focus. He opened his eyes and winced as that thrice-cursed penlight made a reappearance. "Hurts," he said on a shallow gasp. "Water."
"I imagine it does hurt," Dr. Bugenhagen patted Vincent's shoulder. "Let me see what I can do about that and I'll get you some water. Hang tight for me." On his way out to find some painkillers and water for his patient, he shot the blond another warning look.
Cid grumbled at Bugenhagen as he left but resisted the urge to stick out his tone. He wanted to be allowed to come back to see Vincent. "Sorry," he said. "Guess I screwed up anyway. What is it with th'people here, huh? They preach about doin' what's best for ya an' overlook th'most important things." Not expecting an answer, Cid left the bandersnatch in the chair and wandered to the other side of the room. "'Scuse me a minute. Gonna stand over here so it don't look like m'interferin'."
Vincent had closed his eyes again in an effort to get control of his pain, his brow furrowed in muddied concentration. He found that if he kept his breathing short and shallow it didn't hurt as much, but even that was getting difficult. He needed more air!
Dr. Bugenhagen returned shortly carrying a syringe and a sealed plastic mug with a straw that clicked with ice cubes. "Here we are!" He set the mug down and held the syringe up for Vincent's inspection. "This is a combination of low-dose painkillers and mako, it's still in the experimental stage, but those we've tried it on have had good responses to it. You're not allergic to any forms of mako, are you?"
Vincent managed to shake his head. None that you know of, he thought.
"Good, then we'll just inject this into to your IV here," Dr. Bugenhangen said, narrating his actions. "And you should be feeling the effects, right, about…now."
And true to his word, Vincent's pain began to fade. In its place came mild nausea, but he figured that was a small price to pay for relief. "Oh yeah…" he breathed, feeling his body begin to relax from its pain-contorted rigor. His head lolled to the side and gave the doctor a slightly dopey grin. "Better."
"Good," Dr. Bugenhagen chuckled, and as he reached for the mug of water, his pager went off, making him jump a little. "Dammit," he checked the message and frowned. "I need to go." He looked up at the blond. "Do you think you can handle this? Or shall I call a nurse?"
"I c'n handle it," Cid said, only partially aware of what he was agreeing to. He crossed the room again and took the cup of water in one hand. "Not too much at once, 'kay? S'cold. Y'll give yerself a brainfreeze." He started to extend the cup in Vincent's direction but realized that drinking while lying down was not a good way to start recovering from anything. Didn't these things sit up or something? They did on all those doctor shows. He set down the cup, wincing at the look of loss on Vincent's face, and bent to examine the panel of switches and lights he'd seen the day before. He blinked, lost, and then noticed the diagrams. "Gonna sit ya up a little, a' right?" he asked, hesitating before pushing the button that looked like it would put Vincent in a satisfactory position. Much to his relief, it did, and did so slowly enough that he could make sure Vincent was still comfortable as it moved. "There we go. That's a little better, huh?" He took the cup again and placed it a reachable distance, but not in Vincent's face. It was the details, he figured, that mattered the most right now. "Careful," he cautioned, and held the straw steady when Vincent moved to drink through it.
As the cold water ran down his throat, Vincent gave a soft moan of relief. He drank until he nearly made himself sick, then tried to motion Cid to drop the bed back down but couldn't. He just hoped the man could understand what he was trying to relay.
When Vincent stopped drinking and appeared to have no more interest in the water, Cid set the cup aside and noticed that Vincent appeared uncomfortable again. "If y're all done, I'll lay ya back down." There was no protest, so Cid proceeded to do exactly as he said, smiling proudly at his newly mastered ability to control the bed.
With a quiet sigh as he lay back down, relieving the gravity-induced discomfort, Vincent looked over at Cid and smiled weakly again. He tried to reach for Cid, wanting to touch him…needing to touch him. "I'm…sorry."
"Fer what, sugar? Ain't none of it your fault." He scooted the chair closer and sat in it, accidentally squashing Domino the stuffed bandersnatch in the process. "Whoops," Cid said, laughing quietly. "I, uh, got ya this, but it ain't safe for ya t'keep in bed with ya yet. Been holdin' onto it in th'meantime." He set the animal aside on the foot of Vincent's bed. The chair didn't get him close enough to Vincent no matter where he put it. "Y'know I'm gonna be sneakin' inta bed with ya just as soon as y're well enough for it," he informed Vincent as, restlessly, he stood again and resumed hovering over Vincent.
He wanted to hold his hand again –knowing Vincent, the shallow cuts had already healed on both sides- and kiss his cheek as he had the night before, but somehow Vincent seemed more fragile now that he was awake. He settled for resting his hand on the bed near Vincent's wrist and stroking the back of his hand with a rough, clumsy thumb.
Vincent looked at the bandersnatch before it went to rest at the foot of his bed, then back up at Cid, a tear leaking out of the corner of his eye, and down onto the pillow. "My fault…" he rasped, and struggled until he could wrap his fingers around Cid's hand awkwardly. He shut his eyes again, panting from even that tiny movement. "So much… my fault…" With that, he drifted off again.
"Not your fault, Vincent. On'y thing that's yer fault is how happy I am." Cid arranged himself on the ground so he could lay his head near Vincent's hand. He kissed it and shifted his hand to hold it gently, genuinely happy to be allowed to share this with Vincent. "And I love ya for that, y'know. I really do."
"Mmmm," Vincent sighed and squeezed his fingers around Cid's.