avatar: epilogue
Title: Avatar epilogue
Author/artist: TamLin
Setting: AU
Rating: T
Summary: Imma just gonna set this right here... AND THEN RUN LIKE HELL!!
Steve - Cloud - lasted less than an hour after he came out of his coma.
It was a rare moment of peace. After their friends and their equipment had been forcefully ejected from the hospital building with threats of police if they ever came back, the doctors had hauled Cloud out of the room so fast Tifa hadn't even been able to get a word in edgewise. Wedge had disappeared and when she finally did track down a nurse who actually knew what was going on it was to be informed that they were running tests on him to see if his prolonged bout of unconsciousness had caused any lasting or temporary damage. While Tifa could understand the importance of finding any blood clots that his sudden motion might have knocked loose immediately or any areas that might be oxygen starved in his brain, she still couldn't help but feel that the doctors were intruding on time that was rightfully hers.
Theirs.
So with the determination and 'I belong here' walk of a school teacher on a mission, Tifa hunted down the latest room they had him in, uncomfortable in a wheeled bed in a waiting room while they prepped some large and swallowing looking machine through the door. He was restlessly trying to pick off his id bracelet as she strode in the door.
And then his blue eyes came up and she froze.
Had they always been that electric a blue?
Had he always looked that handsome despite the stubble and the scowl?
She knew she should rush to him. That she should throw her arms around him. That there should be serious kissing despite the bed breath that would probably taste like plastic tubing. He was alive! She should be walking on clouds, dancing down the aisles, hugging everyone within arms range. And yet, even when she finally saw him, there was still a hesitance. A refusal to trust what was in front of her.
And then he smiled.
It was a weak twitch and it didn't hit his worried eyes but it was the brief upturn of his lips and it softened his haggard face.
"Hey…" his voice was still raw at its edges and he'd reverted to English but - something inside her gave a great shiver, like a block of ice starting to break apart and she felt her own mouth tremble a weak smile as she meekly answered:
"…hey…"
Across the room, his eyes searched her face, hungry and desperate and apologetic and lost. The rest of the world seemed very far away and muffled. He wet his lips.
"I promised I'd come back."
Whatever was left inside of her shattered at his broken words and suddenly she was across the room without realizing she'd moved, clinging to him more desperately than she'd ever held on to anything in all her life. She didn't even realize she was crying until he made a soft, throaty noise, face buried in her hair. He had his arms wound just as tightly around her and he was rocking, just the littlest bit, the comforting gesture of a million protectors hovering over their breaking loved ones. Words stumbled out of her and she wasn't even aware of what she was saying, just - the fear and the loneliness and the hope and the hopelessness. And whatever it was that he heard, he murmured back:
"Me too, sweetheart. Me too."
Her mini-nervous breakdown lasted a lot longer then she knew she should have let it. Especially considering he should be the one having it, not her. But when she finally pulled back enough to look at his face it was to see that the tension and weary, etched lines had softened out of it and the light was back in his eyes as he looked at her. Tender he cupped her face with his pale before stroking gently down and her eyes shut in response to the wonderful feel of his skin, his real skin, warm and aware, moving against hers. After a minute more, he lowered his head and his nose brushed against hers before she felt the gentle press of his forehead against hers. He smelled like hospital and disinfectant and under all of that, he smelled like himself. Her arms wrapped tighter.
"Get me out of here."
His whisper was quiet and her eyes flew open to find the blue of his, except his were still closed.
"Steve - "
He shook his head against her, eyes still closed.
"I can't stand it in here. Everything's too tight and too loud. Get me out of here, Yumi. Black's already downstairs with the car."
Her eyebrows went up, wondering if that was the usual Special Ops routine, to linger with the engine waiting at hospital doors. But if Black knew him at all it simply made sense that Cloud would make a break for it the second he was able to.
She had to wonder if, perhaps, all his time spent in the waiting room of the hospital she'd been kept in as a child had any bearing on that.
She shouldn't. No matter how he asked, she shouldn't. What if there were blood clots or oxygen discrepancies or other things that the doctors would only know with their invasive tests and leaving before they would done - what if it killed him? …except she couldn't refuse the tamped down desperation in his voice or fail to notice the growing lines of tension in his face as it tightened. Hurriedly, she shot a glance toward the other room where the techs were working at the keyboard of the machine.
"It keeps trying to run a self-diagnostic when they try to start the scanning program. We've got time."
Leave it to a Special Ops to listen in on conversation in the other room while comforting his girlfriend through a nervous breakdown, she thought, wryly and then nodded. One of his blue eyes flickered open at the move and a crooked smile, weak but honest and real appeared on his lips.
There was a folded wheelchair in the corner of the room, probably there to take patients back and forth and she quickly unfolded and pulled it over to him. It must have been a sign of just how worn out he was that he didn't protest and insist on shuffling. Instead he gingerly transferred himself from the bed to the chair, weak and shaky but capable with her help. He was going to have to get used to using his own legs again but they could do that together. Somewhere that wasn't here.
"It's cold," he complained in a mutter as she wheeled him down the hall and she had the absurd urge to snicker at the way he held down the short hem of his hospital gown. The glint of blue over his shoulder said he'd heard her amusement anyway and didn't appreciate it. Gentle, she stroked his hair as they waited for one of the automatic doors to open. He huffed but didn't protest again.
The walk through the hospital seemed to take forever and in a very short order she realized his eyes were closed and his face was all hard angles and tensely stretched skin again. If he was in pain and not telling her she was going to hurt him. At every turn, every new hallway, every room they passed, she expected someone to call out and stop them. When she actually had to cross in front of a nurse's station, she held her breath the entire time and put on her best 'busy with no time to stop and chat' face, moving with the collected determination of someone who had somewhere else important to be.
No one stopped them.
By the time she reached the front doors, her heart was pounding and her skin felt cold and shaky. But she kept her head high and walked with a smooth easy stride, never once faltering or glancing down at the blond head in the wheelchair in front of her.
The sunlight was almost a shock when they stepped out of the artificial climate of the hospital and into the everyday smells and sounds of the rest of the world. True to Cloud's prediction, White was behind the wheel of an obviously rented SUV while Black was standing next to the open front passenger side door of it, grin on his face even brighter and bigger than the sun overhead.
"Nice dress," he commented as she wheeled the chair to a stop in front of him and Cloud grunted.
"Shut up and help me, dipshit."
Black snorted a sound that might have been laughter if it hadn't held just the edge of breaking to it. Tifa pretended not to notice the way his hold on Cloud was a hug as much as support as they both staggered the few steps to the car and she politely returned the wheelchair to the sidewalk. Cloud shifted on the seat, scowl back on his face as he, again, fought with the hemline of his gown but when Black tried to shut the door, he caught it almost casually with his hand.
"I need Yumi. Tifa." His blue eyes locked on her over the top of Zack's head and they were bright with fever but aware and in need. It was entirely improper not to mention awkward - and she didn't hesitate to climb up and into the seat with him, settling down in his lap. His arms closed around her like bands of iron and tucked her in close against the hard angles of him. His body might need a little bit of exercise to get used to motivating around on his own again but he hadn't lost much muscle mass while he was sleeping and it showed in the way he held her so tightly.
Black shut the door and seconds later he was in the back seat and the car was smoothly and without alarm, pulling away from the building. White said nothing until they'd merged into traffic. When he finally did speak it was to calmly ask:
"You texted Black to request an extract?"
Cloud lowered his face and pressed it into her hair and Tifa snuggled in close. Mumbled, he answered:
"Yeah."
"Yet neither you nor Tifa have a phone and I highly doubt any of the staff let you near theirs."
There was a very long pause in which she realized that something very important had just been said - and her exhausted mind refused to pick up on it. Against her Cloud exhaled and snuggled her a little tighter into his lap.
"Yeah."
"Interesting," White merely offered in response. "Please don't reprogram the computer in the dash. I've already set it for the proper mileage."
Against her, for the first time, she felt Cloud relax and he sighed out. She felt as much as heard his smile as he shut his eyes and answered contentedly:
"Yeah."
At the end of my journey I met a man. When I asked him 'what comes next?' he smiled and told me:
"Another beginning."
Author/artist: TamLin
Setting: AU
Rating: T
Summary: Imma just gonna set this right here... AND THEN RUN LIKE HELL!!
Steve - Cloud - lasted less than an hour after he came out of his coma.
It was a rare moment of peace. After their friends and their equipment had been forcefully ejected from the hospital building with threats of police if they ever came back, the doctors had hauled Cloud out of the room so fast Tifa hadn't even been able to get a word in edgewise. Wedge had disappeared and when she finally did track down a nurse who actually knew what was going on it was to be informed that they were running tests on him to see if his prolonged bout of unconsciousness had caused any lasting or temporary damage. While Tifa could understand the importance of finding any blood clots that his sudden motion might have knocked loose immediately or any areas that might be oxygen starved in his brain, she still couldn't help but feel that the doctors were intruding on time that was rightfully hers.
Theirs.
So with the determination and 'I belong here' walk of a school teacher on a mission, Tifa hunted down the latest room they had him in, uncomfortable in a wheeled bed in a waiting room while they prepped some large and swallowing looking machine through the door. He was restlessly trying to pick off his id bracelet as she strode in the door.
And then his blue eyes came up and she froze.
Had they always been that electric a blue?
Had he always looked that handsome despite the stubble and the scowl?
She knew she should rush to him. That she should throw her arms around him. That there should be serious kissing despite the bed breath that would probably taste like plastic tubing. He was alive! She should be walking on clouds, dancing down the aisles, hugging everyone within arms range. And yet, even when she finally saw him, there was still a hesitance. A refusal to trust what was in front of her.
And then he smiled.
It was a weak twitch and it didn't hit his worried eyes but it was the brief upturn of his lips and it softened his haggard face.
"Hey…" his voice was still raw at its edges and he'd reverted to English but - something inside her gave a great shiver, like a block of ice starting to break apart and she felt her own mouth tremble a weak smile as she meekly answered:
"…hey…"
Across the room, his eyes searched her face, hungry and desperate and apologetic and lost. The rest of the world seemed very far away and muffled. He wet his lips.
"I promised I'd come back."
Whatever was left inside of her shattered at his broken words and suddenly she was across the room without realizing she'd moved, clinging to him more desperately than she'd ever held on to anything in all her life. She didn't even realize she was crying until he made a soft, throaty noise, face buried in her hair. He had his arms wound just as tightly around her and he was rocking, just the littlest bit, the comforting gesture of a million protectors hovering over their breaking loved ones. Words stumbled out of her and she wasn't even aware of what she was saying, just - the fear and the loneliness and the hope and the hopelessness. And whatever it was that he heard, he murmured back:
"Me too, sweetheart. Me too."
Her mini-nervous breakdown lasted a lot longer then she knew she should have let it. Especially considering he should be the one having it, not her. But when she finally pulled back enough to look at his face it was to see that the tension and weary, etched lines had softened out of it and the light was back in his eyes as he looked at her. Tender he cupped her face with his pale before stroking gently down and her eyes shut in response to the wonderful feel of his skin, his real skin, warm and aware, moving against hers. After a minute more, he lowered his head and his nose brushed against hers before she felt the gentle press of his forehead against hers. He smelled like hospital and disinfectant and under all of that, he smelled like himself. Her arms wrapped tighter.
"Get me out of here."
His whisper was quiet and her eyes flew open to find the blue of his, except his were still closed.
"Steve - "
He shook his head against her, eyes still closed.
"I can't stand it in here. Everything's too tight and too loud. Get me out of here, Yumi. Black's already downstairs with the car."
Her eyebrows went up, wondering if that was the usual Special Ops routine, to linger with the engine waiting at hospital doors. But if Black knew him at all it simply made sense that Cloud would make a break for it the second he was able to.
She had to wonder if, perhaps, all his time spent in the waiting room of the hospital she'd been kept in as a child had any bearing on that.
She shouldn't. No matter how he asked, she shouldn't. What if there were blood clots or oxygen discrepancies or other things that the doctors would only know with their invasive tests and leaving before they would done - what if it killed him? …except she couldn't refuse the tamped down desperation in his voice or fail to notice the growing lines of tension in his face as it tightened. Hurriedly, she shot a glance toward the other room where the techs were working at the keyboard of the machine.
"It keeps trying to run a self-diagnostic when they try to start the scanning program. We've got time."
Leave it to a Special Ops to listen in on conversation in the other room while comforting his girlfriend through a nervous breakdown, she thought, wryly and then nodded. One of his blue eyes flickered open at the move and a crooked smile, weak but honest and real appeared on his lips.
There was a folded wheelchair in the corner of the room, probably there to take patients back and forth and she quickly unfolded and pulled it over to him. It must have been a sign of just how worn out he was that he didn't protest and insist on shuffling. Instead he gingerly transferred himself from the bed to the chair, weak and shaky but capable with her help. He was going to have to get used to using his own legs again but they could do that together. Somewhere that wasn't here.
"It's cold," he complained in a mutter as she wheeled him down the hall and she had the absurd urge to snicker at the way he held down the short hem of his hospital gown. The glint of blue over his shoulder said he'd heard her amusement anyway and didn't appreciate it. Gentle, she stroked his hair as they waited for one of the automatic doors to open. He huffed but didn't protest again.
The walk through the hospital seemed to take forever and in a very short order she realized his eyes were closed and his face was all hard angles and tensely stretched skin again. If he was in pain and not telling her she was going to hurt him. At every turn, every new hallway, every room they passed, she expected someone to call out and stop them. When she actually had to cross in front of a nurse's station, she held her breath the entire time and put on her best 'busy with no time to stop and chat' face, moving with the collected determination of someone who had somewhere else important to be.
No one stopped them.
By the time she reached the front doors, her heart was pounding and her skin felt cold and shaky. But she kept her head high and walked with a smooth easy stride, never once faltering or glancing down at the blond head in the wheelchair in front of her.
The sunlight was almost a shock when they stepped out of the artificial climate of the hospital and into the everyday smells and sounds of the rest of the world. True to Cloud's prediction, White was behind the wheel of an obviously rented SUV while Black was standing next to the open front passenger side door of it, grin on his face even brighter and bigger than the sun overhead.
"Nice dress," he commented as she wheeled the chair to a stop in front of him and Cloud grunted.
"Shut up and help me, dipshit."
Black snorted a sound that might have been laughter if it hadn't held just the edge of breaking to it. Tifa pretended not to notice the way his hold on Cloud was a hug as much as support as they both staggered the few steps to the car and she politely returned the wheelchair to the sidewalk. Cloud shifted on the seat, scowl back on his face as he, again, fought with the hemline of his gown but when Black tried to shut the door, he caught it almost casually with his hand.
"I need Yumi. Tifa." His blue eyes locked on her over the top of Zack's head and they were bright with fever but aware and in need. It was entirely improper not to mention awkward - and she didn't hesitate to climb up and into the seat with him, settling down in his lap. His arms closed around her like bands of iron and tucked her in close against the hard angles of him. His body might need a little bit of exercise to get used to motivating around on his own again but he hadn't lost much muscle mass while he was sleeping and it showed in the way he held her so tightly.
Black shut the door and seconds later he was in the back seat and the car was smoothly and without alarm, pulling away from the building. White said nothing until they'd merged into traffic. When he finally did speak it was to calmly ask:
"You texted Black to request an extract?"
Cloud lowered his face and pressed it into her hair and Tifa snuggled in close. Mumbled, he answered:
"Yeah."
"Yet neither you nor Tifa have a phone and I highly doubt any of the staff let you near theirs."
There was a very long pause in which she realized that something very important had just been said - and her exhausted mind refused to pick up on it. Against her Cloud exhaled and snuggled her a little tighter into his lap.
"Yeah."
"Interesting," White merely offered in response. "Please don't reprogram the computer in the dash. I've already set it for the proper mileage."
Against her, for the first time, she felt Cloud relax and he sighed out. She felt as much as heard his smile as he shut his eyes and answered contentedly:
"Yeah."
At the end of my journey I met a man. When I asked him 'what comes next?' he smiled and told me:
"Another beginning."