Survival
Disclaimer: These characters are owned by CBS
and the CW network. I mean no infringement of any sort and am only using the
characters for personal enjoyment and for others to enjoy as
well!
DISCLAIMER: THIS FIC IS RATED M FOR LANGUAGE,
CONSENSUAL SEX, AND REFERENCES TO VIOLENCE. IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, SCRAM! IT IS
NOT MY JOB TO POLICE WHAT YOU ARE READING! IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ IT, SCRAM!
I WON'T TOLERATE BULLYING!
This story is told from Catherine's POV, in the first person. May throw in
Vincent's POV down the line.
#---------
Chapter 10
Heat emanated off of Vincent in waves. He had been thrashing violently for
several hours. I couldn't do anything except hold his hand, and rub cool water
on him with one of the torn up shirts. He had also begun muttering to himself,
his words nonsensical.
"Not her.........why do that?"
"......hasn't done anything to you....."
"I won't......."
I couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on in his feverish brain. I
said his name several times, but Vincent was lost in his head. All I could do
was pray. As I stared at him, I thought back to the last time I had seen him
this vulnerable......
Vincent had been complaining about a stomach ache for the last couple hours.
He even refused lunch, which was not normal. What 12 year old boy turns down
food?? I put my hand on his forehead. My hand jumped back. He was burning
up!!!
"Vincent? I'm getting my mom. You're too warm," I told him. Vincent didn't
even respond. I hurried downstairs, calling for my mother. She came around the
corner, and I almost smacked into her.
"Catherine, where's the fire?" Mom asked. I grabbed her hand, pulling her
back toward my bedroom.
"Mom, something is wrong with Vincent. He said his stomach hurts and he's
awful hot. Come check on him, please!!" Mom started walking faster, concern
flashing on her face.
When we made it back to my room, Vincent was curled up on the bed, his face
flushed, and creased with pain. The doctor in mom took over, and she raced to
his side.
"Vincent? Vincent, can you hear me? Tell me where it hurts." He weakly
gestured toward his left side. Mom gently pushed in where he gestured, and
Vincent cried out. I stood by the door, unsure what to do. Mom whipped around,
her eyes wide. "Catherine, call 911 now! We need an ambulance!"
I ran downstairs, and dialed with shaky fingers. It seemed like forever
before the line connected, but it was mere seconds. When the operator answered,
I told her what mom said, begging her to hurry. She assured me that an ambulance
was on the way, and told me to stay on the line. The operator continued to speak
to me, but I wasn't listening to the words.
Finally, I heard the sirens of the ambulance. I ran to the door, letting them
in. I pointed toward the stairs, and they wasted no time, racing upstairs. I
heard them talking to my mom, before one of the men came back down. He grabbed
the stretcher, and carted it upstairs.
Moments later, they descended the stairs, with Vincent strapped to the
stretcher. He was out cold. They hurried past me, loading him into the back. I
stood in the doorway, and felt my mom come up behind me. She put her hands on my
shoulders. I turned to look up at her.
"What's wrong with Vincent?" I asked her, fear seeping into my voice. Mom
sighed.
"I think his appendix burst. I called his parents, and they are going to meet
them at the hospital."
"Will he......be alright?" I asked. Mom pulled me back against her. Her chin
came down to rest on my head.
"I hope so, honey. I hope so...."
I stared out the door, as the doors were closed, and the ambulance raced
away......
Vincent's appendix had indeed burst. The doctors removed it just in time. I
remembered realizing, while Vincent was in the hospital, that I was starting to
have feelings for him. Or maybe, it was the first time I had really acknowledged
the feelings. All I knew, was that I would never look at him the same way
again.
As I looked down at him now, again in pain and vulnerable, I realized those
feelings had never gone away. I still felt something for Vincent. Even after
everything.......
I still felt something.........
I sat there, trying to come to grips with my revelation. I couldn't dwell on
it. I knew that much. After we got out of here, everything would go back to
normal. He would return to his life, and I would return to mine. I refused to
believe that he wouldn't recover from this. I refused to think about the
possibility that I would be stuck here.....alone.
I reached over, grasping his hand. He didn't move. "Vincent....please come
back to me. I can't do this alone. I need you....."
I swear his hand squeezed mine, but that couldn't be. My mind was just
playing tricks on me. I was tired and that was why I was dwelling on the past.
My eyes were starting to feel heavy. I shook my head, trying to stay awake.
Maybe a short nap would be okay....
I laid beside Vincent, his hand still grasped in mine. I closed my eyes,
willing myself to relax.
Just a few minutes........
Just a few.......
Just.......
#--------------------------
Disclaimer: These characters are owned by CBS
and the CW network. I mean no infringement of any sort and am only using the
characters for personal enjoyment and for others to enjoy as
well!
DISCLAIMER: THIS FIC IS RATED M FOR LANGUAGE,
CONSENSUAL SEX, AND REFERENCES TO VIOLENCE. IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, SCRAM! IT IS
NOT MY JOB TO POLICE WHAT YOU ARE READING! IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ IT, SCRAM!
I WON'T TOLERATE BULLYING!
This story is told from Catherine's POV, in the first person. May throw in
Vincent's POV down the line.
#---------
Chapter 10
Heat emanated off of Vincent in waves. He had been thrashing violently for
several hours. I couldn't do anything except hold his hand, and rub cool water
on him with one of the torn up shirts. He had also begun muttering to himself,
his words nonsensical.
"Not her.........why do that?"
"......hasn't done anything to you....."
"I won't......."
I couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on in his feverish brain. I
said his name several times, but Vincent was lost in his head. All I could do
was pray. As I stared at him, I thought back to the last time I had seen him
this vulnerable......
Vincent had been complaining about a stomach ache for the last couple hours.
He even refused lunch, which was not normal. What 12 year old boy turns down
food?? I put my hand on his forehead. My hand jumped back. He was burning
up!!!
"Vincent? I'm getting my mom. You're too warm," I told him. Vincent didn't
even respond. I hurried downstairs, calling for my mother. She came around the
corner, and I almost smacked into her.
"Catherine, where's the fire?" Mom asked. I grabbed her hand, pulling her
back toward my bedroom.
"Mom, something is wrong with Vincent. He said his stomach hurts and he's
awful hot. Come check on him, please!!" Mom started walking faster, concern
flashing on her face.
When we made it back to my room, Vincent was curled up on the bed, his face
flushed, and creased with pain. The doctor in mom took over, and she raced to
his side.
"Vincent? Vincent, can you hear me? Tell me where it hurts." He weakly
gestured toward his left side. Mom gently pushed in where he gestured, and
Vincent cried out. I stood by the door, unsure what to do. Mom whipped around,
her eyes wide. "Catherine, call 911 now! We need an ambulance!"
I ran downstairs, and dialed with shaky fingers. It seemed like forever
before the line connected, but it was mere seconds. When the operator answered,
I told her what mom said, begging her to hurry. She assured me that an ambulance
was on the way, and told me to stay on the line. The operator continued to speak
to me, but I wasn't listening to the words.
Finally, I heard the sirens of the ambulance. I ran to the door, letting them
in. I pointed toward the stairs, and they wasted no time, racing upstairs. I
heard them talking to my mom, before one of the men came back down. He grabbed
the stretcher, and carted it upstairs.
Moments later, they descended the stairs, with Vincent strapped to the
stretcher. He was out cold. They hurried past me, loading him into the back. I
stood in the doorway, and felt my mom come up behind me. She put her hands on my
shoulders. I turned to look up at her.
"What's wrong with Vincent?" I asked her, fear seeping into my voice. Mom
sighed.
"I think his appendix burst. I called his parents, and they are going to meet
them at the hospital."
"Will he......be alright?" I asked. Mom pulled me back against her. Her chin
came down to rest on my head.
"I hope so, honey. I hope so...."
I stared out the door, as the doors were closed, and the ambulance raced
away......
Vincent's appendix had indeed burst. The doctors removed it just in time. I
remembered realizing, while Vincent was in the hospital, that I was starting to
have feelings for him. Or maybe, it was the first time I had really acknowledged
the feelings. All I knew, was that I would never look at him the same way
again.
As I looked down at him now, again in pain and vulnerable, I realized those
feelings had never gone away. I still felt something for Vincent. Even after
everything.......
I still felt something.........
I sat there, trying to come to grips with my revelation. I couldn't dwell on
it. I knew that much. After we got out of here, everything would go back to
normal. He would return to his life, and I would return to mine. I refused to
believe that he wouldn't recover from this. I refused to think about the
possibility that I would be stuck here.....alone.
I reached over, grasping his hand. He didn't move. "Vincent....please come
back to me. I can't do this alone. I need you....."
I swear his hand squeezed mine, but that couldn't be. My mind was just
playing tricks on me. I was tired and that was why I was dwelling on the past.
My eyes were starting to feel heavy. I shook my head, trying to stay awake.
Maybe a short nap would be okay....
I laid beside Vincent, his hand still grasped in mine. I closed my eyes,
willing myself to relax.
Just a few minutes........
Just a few.......
Just.......
#--------------------------