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Wherever You Will Go	By : Madisuzy Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 661 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or Final Fantasy VIII or any of the characters and make no money from this story

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
Title:                Wherever You Will Go
Fandom:           FFVII / FFVIII crossover
Authors:           Calvi Sama (Vincent, Irvine) and Madisuzy (Laguna, Kiros)
Pairing:             Vincent and Laguna
Summary:         From an erotic chance encounter blossoms a love that will test both men's desire and devotion and will send them on a journey of self discovery that will change both of their lives forever.
Warnings:         Yaoi, swearing, violence, angst
Rating:              +18
Disclaimer:        We don’t own FFVII or FFVIII and make no money from this story.
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Sincere thanks to reviewers and to all who have rated this story.
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Chapter 9
Laguna stood gazing out the window, looking over the celebrations that were in full swing in the city of Esthar. Today was a holiday marking the five year anniversary of the defeat of Ultimecia and the whole city stopped to celebrate the event. The streets where usually empty at this time of the evening but tonight they were full of people, various stalls and even carnival rides. He soaked in the atmosphere from a distance wishing that he could be down there with his people, laughing and surrounded by family and friends. Instead he was stuck up here, like some princess trapped in a tower.
He’d spend tonight with a bunch of politicians and so called important people, dinning on first class cuisine and ridiculously expensive wine that tasted like crap. Sighing, he went over his speech one last time in his head as his usual fit of nervousness swept over him. Laguna calmed himself by thinking of Vincent who would be beside him the whole evening as his bodyguard. The beautiful young man was the only person he really wanted to be with tonight anyway. Smiling, he checked his suit one last time as a knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” he called, expecting Kiros with his usual last minute fussing. They had never spoken about that day in the conference room again and Laguna had never had the balls to bring up the moment in the garden either. Instead they’d both just pretended the events of that day never happened. He needed his friend too much to let… well, whatever that was get in the way.
He was surprised when he turned towards the door to find Irvinein full SeeD formal smiling at him cheekily. The cowboy had been with them for three weeks now and instead of looking forward to his departure in a weeks’ time, Laguna found himself a little sad that the young man would be going. He’d grown rather fond of him and it was nice to have somebody that both he and Vincent got along so well with in the Palace. The fact the cowboy happened to be so attractive was an added bonus. Well, there was no harm in looking, was there?
“You ‘bout ready there, Pops?” Irvinesaid with a coy little wink, and was rewarded with a small blush from the shorter man. He had grown quite fond of Laguna in the three weeks he had spent with the two men, and in fact had grown more than a little protective of him. Why, what just felt like the other day he had overheard two groundskeepers snickering at Laguna as they talked about the small address to the Palace employees he had given. Mid-way through the poor man had forgotten what he was talking about, and had stuttered and blushed so deeply that Irvinehad begun blushing in sympathy! It was then that Vincent had calmly stepped in between Laguna and the gathered employees, murmured something in the President’s ear, and had stayed there long enough for Laguna to calm down.
When the dark-haired gunman had finally moved, Laguna was calm and composed, causing a serious spike in Irvine’s respect for the man. So when he heard those two groundskeepers, he had come as close to totally snapping as he ever had in his laid-back life. He had flat-out cold-cocked the one doing the talking, and the other had wet himself under his withering stare, and then he had given them both such a dressing-down that now whenever they saw either him or Laguna, they were nothing but respectful. Now he was staring at Laguna with barely concealed appreciation, dressed in his impeccable suit.
Irvinecouldn’t resist a little gentle teasing. Striding up to Laguna, he looked down at the President with a grin as he tugged, straightened and finally finished by flicking imaginary dust off of the man’s shoulders saying, “Hot damn, would ya lookit’ you! Regular ladykiller! Ah, but then…,” he paused and winked again, suggestively, “Yer not interested in th’ ladies anymore are ya?”
Laguna tried to glare at the cheeky young man but failed as his blush darkened. “You may be bigger than me Irvine, but you’re still young enough for me to put you over my knee and spank you,” he replied with a grin.
“Would’ja now?!” Irvinesaid, quirking an eyebrow. “Careful what ya wish for hot stuff. I might jus’ let’cha.” He gently pinched Laguna’s chin and leaned down next to the man’s ear. “In fact, I’ll prob’ly enjoy it.” He straightened up before Laguna could become too uncomfortable and turning, he walked towards the large window and looked out and down at the festivities. He sighed wistfully. “Wish I was down there. Too much fun t’be had, ‘n me not bein’ there t’have it.”
Taking in a deep breath, Laguna mentally slapped himself for even thinking he could win a war of words with the cowboy who could fluster him without even trying. He watched Irvineat the window as an image of Vincent spanking Irvineflittered across his mind. Fuck… that was… interesting. Shelving that thought for later, he reminded himself of the speech he was about to give which effectively killed the badly timed swell of desire.
“I have to agree with you, Irvine. Duty can be a complete pain in the ass, if you’ll pardon my expression,” he said, walking up to stand beside the cowboy. “How’s Vincent? I haven’t seen him for hours…,” his words trailed off as he though of his lover. He just didn’t feel right without that calming presence beside him.
“Aw he’s jus’ natterin’ on ‘bout how much he hates suits,” Irvinereplied, grin returning. “Somethin’ ‘bout how it’d been decades since he’s last worn one.” He shook his head. “He’s really somethin’ Laguna.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and murmured, “One o’ these days you’ll have’ta lemme know just how ya managed t’ land ‘im.”
Laguna chuckled, knowing full well how much his lover hated wearing formal attire. “Honestly, he landed me. I’m still trying to work out why,” he said smiling at the memory of that day. “Must have been my lucky day.”
Irvinethrew his head back and laughed merrily. “Well shit Laguna, then he’s th lucky one!” He cocked his head to peer at the shorter man. “I mean, c’mon… jus’ look at’cha! What’s not t’like? Hell, if only I could be half as lucky as Vince.” He chuckled to himself and mentally cautioned to restrain his tongue a bit better, lest his secret desires become a little less secret.
Blushing at what he was sure was just teasing from the young man beside him, Laguna turned away and changed the subject. “Well, I suppose I’ve spent long enough putting this off. Time to face the music and hopefully not make a complete ass out of myself,” he muttered, walking slowly towards the door. “Any special instructions from my paranoid security team?”
Irvinefollowed him towards the door. Catching up easily he gently grabbed Laguna’s elbow. “It ain’t paranoia, Pops, its protection. I’m sure it’ll be fine, but in th’ event somethin’ does go down, you do exactly what yer told when yer told t’do it. It don’t matter who tells ya: me, Vincent, Squall, Kiros… y’do what yer told. We’re here t’protect ya, keep ya safe, ‘cause we don’t want ‘nothin’ t’ happen t’ya. This is our job, just as all o’ them…,” he gestured to the window they had just left, “…is yer job. All right?” He looked at Laguna earnestly, trying to convey with his eyes the seriousness of the situation. “We’re here fer you, Laguna, no one else.”
“I know, Irvine. I’ll do as I’m told, although I still think this is all overkill,” Laguna replied, looking up into crystal blue eyes which made his breath catch. He could see why so many women got swept away by their surprising depth. Looking away and shaking off the effect of Irvine’s gaze, he mumbled, “I doubt anyone would be stupid enough to try anything with half of SeeD in the room.”
“Laguna,” Irvinesaid softly, daring to catch the man with a hand behind his neck, and leaning in toward him whispered, “Listen t’ me. If someone wants ya dead, it don’t matter who’s in th’ room or what happens t’ them ‘r anyone else fer that matter. If they want it bad enough, they’ll kill ya, even if they gotta kill themselves t’do it.” He didn’t want to panic Laguna with the knowledge that the fanatical group devoted to the late Sorceress, The Lunar Knights, was upping their activity, but he needed to impart just how important Laguna’s safety was to them… to him. By now, Laguna was more than just his President, more than a father-figure, he was a friend and with the right words and actions, Irvinewas willing to make it more than that given half the chance.
“Listen to him, Laguna,” Vincent said, striding into the room, tugging on the collar of the white dress shirt under his black suit-coat, uncomfortably. “He speaks the truth.” Coming to a stop in front of them he nodded first to Irvine– who didn’t remove his hand, which surprisingly did not bother him – before looking deeply into Laguna’s wide green eyes. He brought his hand up to run the backs of his fingers down Laguna’s cheek, “Your safety is paramount to this country, and absolutely vital to me.” He only just caught Irvine’s breathed ‘me too’, and he flicked his eyes up to the gunslinger briefly.
The young man had both surprised and impressed him yet again with just how serious and focused he could be. Yesterday he and Irvine, together with Squall, had scoured the auditorium, looking for any place a sniper could hide; and while Squall would be representing the Gardens in the ceremony, there would be other SeeDs placed at all of these positions, and Irvine would be covering the stage from ground level while he himself would be by, and just slightly behind Laguna. He smiled gently and said, “But enough of this talk. Come, let us be done with this. The sooner it is over, the sooner I can relax! Between this damned speech and this horrendous suit, I’m about to require a sedative.”
Laguna took a deep breath and nodded, not trusting his words to hide the feeling that had come over him with the proximity of both men before him. This was really not the time to be so distracted. Then again, looking at Vincent in his suit, it was hard not to be. Giving his lover a last look over, he smiled before finally finding his voice. “Okay, I’m in your hands,” he said.
Stepping out into the hall, he went on automatic as his mind raced over the speech. He didn’t say anything in the elevator and was still quiet as they approached the auditorium. Burying his nerves, he paused at the doors to take a couple more deep breaths before walking through and heading straight for the podium. Pausing as the crowd noticed his arrival and silenced their chatter, he smiled out over the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to welcome you all to the fifth anniversary of the defeat of Ultimecia……”
As Laguna’s speech progressed, Vincent stood, completely unmoving but for his eyes. They assessed everything. He focused upon his enhanced hearing as well as his sense of smell. As his enhanced sight roamed the crowd, watching for unusual movement or glints of light upon metal, he could hear whispers of conversations, which he evaluated and dismissed as he deemed them unimportant to the current situation:
“I really think he’s done a marvelous job with…”
“What do you think of that suit he’s wearing? I mean the color is just…”
“Can you believe that man next to him is his lover?”
“I know what I’d like to do to him…”
“Did you remember to leave our number for the babysitter?”
“He’s been in office far too long, I don’t think…”
“Did you remember to let the dog out…”
“It’s almost time, signal the others and get Regis in position…”
There! Vincent frowned as he tried to focus in on that hushed conversation, but there were several groups of drunken noblemen and women that were being way too loud. But he had a name, and he knew to be ready. His skin began to crawl, in the way of most premonitions that would indicate something was either horribly wrong, or about to go that way very fast. Then he caught the dull glint of metal as a weapon was being raised, and he only had enough time to shout, “Irvine!” as he threw himself in front of Laguna just as the quick ‘pop-pop-pop-pop’ of a semi-automatic rifle shattered the silence between Laguna’s words.
He felt four distinct ‘thuds’ into his back followed by a blistering pain that threatened to overwhelm him. His only thought was to protect Laguna at all costs, so he was only distantly aware of the sudden outbreak of screams, shouts and the scraping of chairs in front of a backdrop of sporadic automatic weapons’ fire. With a wheezing grunt he wrapped his arms around his lover and took them both to the ground where he covered Laguna with his body.
When Vincent had shouted his name, Irvine’s head had whipped around just in time to see Vincent get hit and he could hear the sound of the bullets impacting the solid bulk that was Vincent Valentine. Then everything happened at once: people rose from their chairs, overturning them and their neighbors’ in the their panic to get away, SeeDs began running for the exits, stairs and the stage and Kiros, Squall and himself dove for Laguna and Vincent. He was closest and slid to a stop beside the two downed men, throwing his own body over them both just as Squall and Kiros came up to them.
Four SeeDs made a living wall between the direction the shots had come from and Laguna, and Irvinegently eased Vincent off of the President to roll the ex-Turk onto his back. He winced as he saw blood beginning to trickle from the corner of Vincent’s mouth, and a small pool was forming around where the man lay. Laguna too was covered with blood that was not his own. There’s so much! Irvinethought desperately, but then his training kicked in. He looked up into Squall’s frightened eyes, and was startled to see the beginning of shock there. Although Squall was a mercenary, had seen violence and dealt it himself, it hadn’t been his father on the receiving end of it. The fact that Squall was reacting this way said much about his best friend’s true feelings regarding the man they were protecting. But this was hardly the time or the place for a father-son bonding moment and he needed Squall’s head in the game.
He reached out and shoved his best friend’s shoulder, getting his attention. “Squally, you better lock that balcony down, fast!” With a mental shake Squall was up and moving at a run, picking up three SeeDs as he went and yelling at four more. Irvine glanced to his left, and saw two SeeDs watching them in stunned silence, and he barked out loud and clear, “You two! Get up t’that balcony and lock that bitch down! No one leaves ya got me? Grab any other SeeDs y’ pass and y’tell ‘em those are yer orders. I don’t want anyone leavin’ ‘till I get some names!” When they only nodded, but didn’t move he barked, “Now git!!!” and they were off like bullets fired from a gun.
He turned to Kiros who was also looking shaken. “Go on, Kiros. Yer makin’ a pretty target just sittin’ there blinkin’ those bedroom eyes o’ yours. I got this, go on now.” After another moment’s hesitation, Kiros finally ran in a crouch off of the stage and, flanked by two SeeDs, headed for the safe rooms of the Palace. Irvine jerked his head at the ‘wall’ of SeeDs surrounding them and looked at Laguna. “All right, Pops, yer gonna go with these four an’ they’ll….” He was interrupted by a grip on his wrist. Vincent. Locking eyes with the dark-haired gunman he felt an all too familiar clenching in his chest that heralded a serious crash in his confidence.
The man’s face was paper-white, there was blood smeared on his cheek as well as a trickle from his mouth, and his breathing was quick and shallow. But despite his appearance, his grip was iron-strong and his eyes were clear and sharp. “You…,” he choked with a shake of his head. “…take Laguna…only you.” Vincent appeared to be fighting for breath. “I only…trust…you….”
Irvine gazed into Vincent’s vermilion stare for only a second longer before he nodded briskly once, as he reached for Laguna. “Alright, but yer goin’ t’the infirmary.” He signaled one of the SeeDs of the “wall” to call an emergency transport. It was then that Laguna ‘woke up’.
“Vincent!” Laguna yelled, pulling himself up on his knees and grabbing his lover’s arm as he leaned over his body. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…,” he muttered incoherently as he stared at all the blood. So much blood, too much blood! He didn’t hear Irvine, couldn’t see anything but Vincent lying there as his life seeped out of him. This wasn’t happening, couldn’t be happening. Someone was saying something and trying to pull him away, but he clung to Vincent’s arm in desperation as he willed his lover to live, to not leave him.
Irvine opened his mouth to speak to Laguna, but never got the chance as Vincent latched onto his arm with a vice-like grip. Eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline, he leaned down toward the injured man, alarmed by the sheer terror he saw in those matchless, ruby eyes, “No…hos-hospital, no…doctors!”
“But Vincent, yer bleedin’ t’death. Y’need a….”
He was interrupted yet again. “I’ll be…fine. Nnnn…doctors…,” Vincent slurred as the gunman’s eyes rolled up in his head and he lost consciousness.
Irvine stared at the too-pale face for a second longer before he reached up, without looking away from Vincent, afraid that if he did so the man would die, and grabbed the sleeve of the nearest SeeD. With a yank, he pulled the man down next to him and said, “I want ya t’ go ‘n get Dr. Kadowaki ‘n have her come to…,” he paused, looking over at Laguna, whose face showed very nearly the same amount of fear as was on Vincent’s at the mention of doctors. “…the President’s private quarters. Have ‘er come alone, ‘n dressed in plain-clothes. I do not want t’ see a white coat. She will treat Vincent there. Got it?” Irvine turned his attention to the SeeD he was addressing, holding the man’s gaze with his own. The SeeD nodded and he said firmly, “Repeat it back.”
“Dr. Kadowaki, personally, plain-clothes, no white coat, President’s private quarters.”
“Good.” Irvine nodded and sent the man off at a dead run. Next he turned to Laguna, gripping the man’s shoulder hard enough make him wince and look at him as he said, “It’s time t’ go, Pops. I’ll carry Vincent; ya stay in front of me ‘n behind these fellas here.” He gestured to the SeeDs prepared to run interference should they hit any more trouble.
Reluctantly letting go of Vincent’s arm, Laguna stood and did what he was told in a haze of numbness. He watched Irvine drag the unconscious Vincent up and over his shoulder, staring blankly at the large stain left behind on the floor. The next thing he knew they were entering his rooms and all he could comprehend was a blur of SeeD uniforms as people scurried around the room. Seeing Vincent carried into the bedroom, he tried to will his body to move and failed, instead standing in the middle of the sitting room as if frozen to the spot. This had to be a nightmare. There was no way that any of this could possibly be real.
Irvine had to make himself leave Laguna in the sitting room as he took Vincent into the bedroom and with one hand stripped the duvet, at least he could save that, but the rest would be ruined at the rate that Vincent was…. He frowned as he began to strip the gunman, and noticed that the man’s wounds had nearly stopped bleeding. “What?” he said to himself as he wadded up the blood-soaked shirt and threw it over against the wall by the bathroom. He gently ran his hands over Vincent’s chest, then rolled the ex-Turk over onto his belly and examined the bullet holes in the man’s back.
“Okay, Mr. Kinneas, that is quite enough mauling of my patient, now out you go! Go on, shoo!” Dr. Kadowaki said as she strode into the bedroom briskly, the glasses on her nose glinting in the light. She set her bag down on the bed, glanced at Vincent and pointed to the door. “Out.”
Irvine threw up his hands defensively and began backing towards the door. “Alright, alright, easy there doc, I’m a-goin’.” When he reached the door, he turned and said soberly, “See that he lives doc.” He glanced at the door through which Laguna waited nervously in the other room before looking back at the busy woman. “Just… please see that he lives,” he said before exiting the bedroom.
Now, he had to watch Laguna slowly worry himself to death. Endlessly the poor man paced, and twice Irvine had to watch Laguna’s leg cramp up so badly that he had to sit down awkwardly and wait for it to pass, face contorted in pain. Then he was back up and pacing some more. Finally, Irvine had had enough and placed himself quite firmly in Laguna’s path so that when the shorter man turned around he crashed face-first into his chest. Before Laguna could back up, he wrapped his long arms around the other man and held onto him. Put your arms around me, put your arms around me, put your arms around me, he chanted to himself in the vain hope that he could somehow ease Laguna’s distress.
Laguna slowly pulled up his arms to return the surprise embrace from Irvine. His arms hung limply around the younger man at first before tightening as a sob broke free of his control. Suddenly he was weeping, his mind spinning as it kept replaying the shooting in his head, over and over. All he could do was cling to Irvine like he was his anchor in the storm and pray that Vincent would survive.
“Oh Pops,” Irvine breathed, bringing a hand up to gently stroke Laguna’s hair. “It’ll be all right. He’s a tough son’uv’a bitch. Why, he had nearly stopped bleedin’ when I laid ‘im down. He’ll be back up ‘n makin’ ya blush b’fore ya know it!” Irvine continued to hold Laguna until the man finally exhausted himself and just stood leaning heavily against the cowboy. With infinite care, he steered Laguna over to the couch and laid the man down, gently threading his fingers through Laguna’s hair until Laguna’s eyes began to droop.
Suddenly there was a soft knock on the door to the President’s quarters. Laguna jumped and gripped his arm hard, and he could all but hear Laguna’s heart begin pounding. “Shh, easy now, it’s just th’ front door, I’ll be right back.” Laguna’s eyes were wide and wild and kept flicking to the bedroom door. With a sigh, Irvine stroked Laguna’s hair one more time before standing and walking quickly to the front door, ready to tear into whoever sought to disturb them at this tense time. Whipping the door open he dragged in a deep breath to let words fly only to let it out in a rush when he saw Squall leaning against the door frame, wearing a unique look of worry that Irvine would bet his personal arsenal his best friend had never worn before in his life.
Harsh words dissolving in his own wave of fatigue, he asked softly, “You okay, Squall?”
Squall looked up at Irvine, unsure of just what to say. He’d come to tell them about the men that had been caught or killed but the words died on his lips. Instead, other questions rose to the front of his mind, demanding to be answered.
“How are Vincent and dad?” he asked quietly, running a hand through his hair nervously. The sight of his father’s bodyguard lying in a pool of his own blood was still fresh in his mind, as was the look of complete and utter horror that Laguna’s usual happy face had held.
Irvine looked down at the floor as he leaned on the opened door; both surprised and unexpectedly moved that Squall had actually referred to Laguna as his father. “Vincent is alive, and Laguna is in agony.” He looked up into Squall’s face – so like his father’s and yet not – his own blue eyes sad. There was a moment of silence between the two friends before Irvine stepped away from the door and motioned his friend inside. Squall hesitated a moment before entering. Irvine stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Y’ may want t’ ask him that yerself… I think it might bring yer father comfort. An’ he really needs some right now. I’ll make some tea.”
Slowly, with a weariness far beyond his actual age, Irvine made his way to the kitchen but stopped in the doorway to turn back to Squall, saying softly, “An Squall… ya hurt ‘im ‘r make ‘im upset… there’s gonna be somethin’ between us that ain’t gonna be fixed too quick, y’understand?” Without waiting for a reply he disappeared into the kitchen.
Squall approached the couch slowly, looking over his father’s defeated form. Laguna stared back at him, pale faced and looking like he’d already lost the man who had saved his life. Squall couldn’t hold his gaze and his eyes dropped to the floor as he came to a stop beside his father.
“Dad, I… I’m so sorry,” he muttered, feeling like a fool. His father needed him now and all he could do was stutter and mumble shit. A hand taking hold of his jolted him and made him look down into Laguna’s eyes, so full of pain and fear. Squall knew those emotions well. He’d felt them himself when Seifer had first been taken away. Kneeling down, Squall did the only thing he could think of. He wrapped his arms around his father and held him.
Leaning on one shoulder in the doorway to the kitchen, Irvine watched son embrace father and smiled. They both needed this. Just then movement caught his eye as Dr. Kadowaki opened the bedroom door just far enough so that only Irvine could see her. She motioned for him to enter and he did so, silently and unobserved. Once inside the bedroom, he followed Dr. Kadowaki over to the enormous bed and the man lying on his stomach upon it. Standing next to the older woman, Irvine looked down at Vincent’s broad, scarred back that now bore four squares of gauze taped over four small holes that still continued to weep a small amount of blood and lymph that was tinted an odd shade of green. He let his eyes wander over Vincent’s deceptively wide shoulders.
Capable shoulders, he thought, then up to the thick mane of nearly waist-length black hair, pulled over to the side to reveal his slender neck. What he could see of Vincent’s pale, beautiful face was relaxed in sleep, making him look heartbreakingly young and without burden. While Dr. Kadowaki’s back was turned, Irvine dared to reach out and run the backs of his fingers down the gunman’s cheek. He’s s’damned soft, he thought while he felt an odd squeezing in his chest. Aw fuck, what’s wrong with me?
“All right, Mr. Kinneas, I need you to help me gently roll him over and hold him up while I wrap his chest. Think you can help me do that?” Irvine swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and nodded. “Okay, ready?” Dr. Kadowaki flipped off the sheet coving Vincent’s modesty and Irvine couldn’t help it. His eyes zinged to Vincent’s narrow hips and… he swallowed, Gods help him, that perfect, tight ass. He also noticed that the scars continued down over his buttocks to his thighs. What th’ hell happened to you, Vincent? he wondered.
“They’re horrible, aren’t they?” Dr. Kadowaki asked compassionately. “I cannot imagine the amount of pain this man had to endure to earn these scars. As far as I can tell, they happened in the same time frame to one another.” She shook her head. “But that’s not the worst part. Take a look at this.”
That was when Irvine saw the arm. In prepping Vincent to remove the bullets, Dr. Kadowaki had also removed the ever-present black glove, and he could see that Vincent’s left arm from fingers to elbow bore deep, vicious-looking scars: burn scars, scars from stitches, various lacerations that looked like defensive wounds, pitted areas from needles all rendering the flesh to pull tightly over bone and sinew, and giving it a leathery appearance. It’s a wonder ‘e can use that arm at all, Irvine thought tracing a particularly deep scar that just had to interfere with Vincent’s ability to grip with any efficacy and that ran up the inside of the gunman’s arm.
“I’ve only ever seen this kind of trauma in prisoners of war that were subjected to severe torture and abuse,” Dr. Kadowaki murmured, then seemed to give herself a mental shake, “But, nothing to be done about that. Come on then Mr. Kinneas, on the count of three: one…two…three.” And together they rolled Vincent onto his back. “Okay, now I need you to prop him up and hold his hair out of the way, please.”
Standing a little behind Vincent, Irvine lifted up on Vincent’s shoulders until the man was in a sitting position, and with a barely steady hand he managed to gather Vincent’s glorious – if slightly tangled – hair into one hand. He held the lot of it up and out of the way while Dr. Kadowaki quickly wrapped Vincent’s chest in soft bandaging, taking a few swipes over the ex-Turk’s shoulders to keep the new bandage in place. All the while she continued to talk as though to herself, and Irvine couldn’t help but listen. “His physiology is the most unique I have ever seen, and his ability to heal is unprecedented andmost unnatural. Why, I had to actually cut into his body to retrieve those slugs – which were a very high caliber, it was a miracle the President wasn’t injured – his body healed itself after me! Hm, and this lymph fluid is not a natural color either, I shall have to retrieve some blood before I leave, to run some tests. This man is terribly unique... All right, we’re done,” Dr. Kadowaki said, and Irvine, brain still trying to process everything, supported Vincent’s head as they both lowered the unconscious gunman back onto the pillows the doctor had dragged into place while he had held Vincent up.
As Dr. Kadowaki busied herself putting away her instruments, Irvine studied Vincent’s face a moment longer, fighting an inappropriate urge to lean down and kiss those sculpted lips, and suck on that full bottom lip. He then let his eyes wander again, and he found himself staring at the man’s penis, lying flaccid and at rest in a small, neat bed of soft black curls between long, leanly muscled legs. Irvine barely suppressed a moan as he reined in the urge to use his mouth yet again; to tease and lick and kiss that organ into the impressive tool he remembered seeing – and what continued still to haunt his very, wet dreams – three weeks ago. Gods! I am such a sick bastard, that I’m thinkin’ o’ that while he’s layin’ here injured.
He jumped when Dr. Kadowaki came up beside him and cleared her throat softly as she gently pulled the sheet over Vincent’s waist and halfway up his chest. “You have one of those too, Mr. Kinneas. They’re exactly the same in form and function.”
Uh, no they ain’t, doc. You didn’t see what I saw, Irvine thought as he struggled to swallow and his face threatened to melt off from embarrassment. He didn’t know how Laguna managed to blush so much and not kill off brain cells from the heat! However he did sober up pretty quickly when he saw Dr. Kadowaki going for Vincent’s arm, holding a needle. To him, that just seemed wrong, and he didn’t know why. Reaching out, he gently grabbed her wrist and said, “No, doc. Leave ‘im be. He’s got a bad history with needles I’m guessin’ seein’ all them needle scars, an’ ‘e don’t need you makin’ any more.”
Dr. Kadowaki laughed softly. “These won’t scar, Mr. Kinneas.”
“It don’t matter, doc. It’s th’ principle of the thing,” Irvine said firmly. “He’d see it as ya takin’ advantage of ‘im ‘n ‘e don’t tolerate that real well.” When he saw Dr. Kadowaki’s skeptical face he quickly amended, “Look, why don’ I ask ‘im when ‘e wakes up? He c’n come to your clinic even… just, don’ do this to ‘im when he’s like this, all right?”
With a sigh, Dr. Kadowaki nodded and returned the syringe to her case. “Okay, Mr. Kinneas. I’m not in the mood to argue and that is most certainly fair. Come; let’s leave Mr. Valentine alone to rest.”
Together they exited the bedroom – but not before Irvine replaced the glove onto Vincent’s hand and arm, reasoning that if Laguna were meant to see his arm then Vincent should be the one to show it, and not have Laguna learn about it this way – and returned to the sitting room where Laguna and Squall were sitting side by side on the couch, the son’s hand on the father’s shoulder.
“Well? How is he?” Laguna asked nervously.
Irvine nodded and grinned while Dr. Kadowaki smiled and said gently, “He’ll be just fine, Mr. President, although I must caution against any exciting or strenuous activity for at least three days… doctors orders!” She laughed when Laguna blushed furiously, and pulled out a holo-card. “I’ll be staying in Esthar for the next week, visiting family. Please… call me if you need anything.” She handed the holo-card to Laguna. “This is my direct number, no secretaries or answering service.” With another, ‘He’ll be fine’ she left the President’s quarters.
Stepping forward, Irvine mumbled awkwardly, gesturing to his bloodied uniform. “I’m, uh, gonna go ‘n grab a shower ‘n some sleep. I’ll make my official report tomorrow, Squall, and I’d also like a shot at any ‘o those bastards we managed to catch, as will Vincent when ‘e wakes up. Try ‘n git some sleep, Laguna, all right?” After a nod from both father and son, Irvine Kinneas left the two men he had grown to care about, perhaps a little too much, to go and take a long shower, and drink himself into oblivion.
Squall turned to his father as the cowboy left and noticed that he was staring at the bedroom door. “Dad? Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked. Laguna pulled his eyes back to his son, looking dazed.
“No, it’s fine. You go get some rest. I’ll be okay,” Laguna replied flatly as his eyes returned to the bedroom again. Squall frowned, worried at his father’s behavior but unable to voice his concerns. He’d never seen Laguna look so defeated and lost.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Squall ventured, not knowing what he could do but feeling the need to at least offer. He couldn’t just walk away as he had in the past, especially since he knew how it felt to lose someone that meant so much and Laguna had come so close to losing Vincent.
“It’s okay, Squall. I’m just tired. I’ll… well, I’ll grab a pillow and crash here. Really, I’m fine,” Laguna said, attempting a smile that looked painfully fake as he stood up.
“Maybe you should have a shower first?” Squall suggested softly, standing up and looking over his father’s blood stained suit. Laguna looked down at his suit and flinched in recognition before nodding his head. “You go and have a shower and I’ll watch over Vincent for you until you’re finished, okay?”
“Okay,” Laguna whispered, slowly turning and walking towards the bathroom. Squall watched him go with a heavy heart, hating to see the man that usually shined so bright, so dimmed by fear and pain. Turning towards the bedroom, he slowly entered before stopping near the door and taking in the sight of Vincent on the bed. Squall felt a stab of guilt at not trusting the man when he’d first met him. It was obvious now how committed he was to Laguna, and Squall decided that he was done with putting up any more obstacles to their happiness. He would step back and let this man be a part of his father’s life with no more interference. Sitting down on a sofa by the window, he closed his eyes, going over the night’s events in his head as he waited for Laguna to return.
Around fifteen minutes later when Laguna returned to his bedroom, Squall was fast asleep on the sofa. He smiled down at his son as he covered him with a blanket before walking over to the bed to finally look at Vincent. His lover looked so vulnerable that he couldn’t bring himself to touch him. Instead Laguna lay down, leaving a space between them and settled in to watch Vincent sleep as he tried to convince himself that everything was going to be okay.
TBC…
- 8
- 9
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Wherever You Will Go