Cid looked up from staring at the floor as he walked down the hall. He’d already gotten lost twice and bumped into a nurse today.
He’d finally worked up enough courage to see Vincent. Actually, it wasn’t as much courage as curiosity. It had been a week since the incident and he’d gotten a call from the doctor about a friend of his wondering why he wasn’t visiting. Cid was interested in who this ‘friend’ was. He hadn’t called anyone and Shera said she couldn’t even make a phone call.
Checking to make sure he had the right room, Cid steeled himself and opened it. It was so much worse knowing how bad the situation was. The first time he got a call, he thought he’d be carrying Vincent home from having a broken leg. He kept thinking Vincent would wake up. But there wasn’t any ambiguity to give him hope now; the word ‘coma’ made it worse tenfold. Last time it was just ‘sedated.’ He could deal with that. You wake up from sedation, but not from a coma.
"Oh, right," Cid muttered, learning who the mystery person was and leaning in the doorway.
Reeve was there, sitting in a chair and completely silent. He seemed to be in a mix of prayer and contemplation.
Now that Cid’s curiosity was satisfied, he had no idea what to do. At least there weren’t so many machines this time. Just a lone IV. Vincent even had the prosthetic on still. And yet, it all made everything worse. Without the machines or anything beeping it was like the doctors had just given up entirely.
"He scored a four," Reeve finally said. "That’s not good. He’s not reacting to anything, just light and shadows slightly. That means it’s a pretty deep coma. They had to adjust that brace of his, but they ran an MRI on him. There’s no brain damage, and the doctors aren’t as stupid as you think they are. They put two and two together pretty fast. This is what happens when Jenova dies while connected to someone."
Cid said nothing. He looked down at the floor.
"Just thought you might want to know."
"So what now?" Cid asked. He hadn’t done anything at all for the last week. He had called the crew and told them he’d be away for awhile and didn’t know when he’d be coming back. He didn’t want to look at Vincent lying motionless on the bed, but he wanted to touch him again. He wanted to put feel long black hair against his hand again. He wanted a hand to hold and Shera’s were too injured.
Cid pulled up a spare chair and numbly sat down.
Vincent didn’t react. Vincent didn’t know he was there, did he?
"Can he hear me?"
"They don’t know. He probably won’t react even if he does."
Cid just looked at Vincent; he didn’t bother to try and talk to him.
"There’s no brain damage, so there’s always a chance—"
"Shut up."
Reeve went silent.
Cid took off one glove and put his hand around Vincent’s. "I already get enough shit from doctors. He’s in a fucking coma and he was officially killed by Jenova. He’s not coming back. I’m not some damned baby, Reeve."
"Do you want to know who it was, at least?"
"Who what was?"
"The host. The person with the Jenova cells."
"Give me a minute," Cid said, looking at Vincent’s hand in his. No matter how hard or how much he squeezed, Vincent didn’t squeeze his back. His fingers were cold as well as still. His face was the same way. There was tape over his eyes, holding them shut. There was no expression on his face. He barely moved as he breathed. Someone had brushed and braided his hair, which trailed over his shoulder. So much else was done to keep him warm and clean, but it was like he was dressed up for a funeral.
Did he want to know who had done this to Vincent? Vincent was almost as good as dead; he certainly wouldn’t be coming back. Would it make things worse knowing whose fault it was? Would it make things better? Jenova was already dead, so he couldn’t make it pay. Was there any point in knowing?
Cid noticed Vincent’s black eye; he remembered punching Vincent in the face during the fight. It was healing, but Cid wondered if he should feel guilty about it.
"Sure. Why not?" Cid said, not noticing his voice was breaking. He wanted someone to tell him what to do. He wanted someone to tell him how to feel.
"It was Lucrecia," Reeve said, waiting for a reaction, or at least a violent one.
Nothing. Cid didn’t even sigh. Cid didn’t even move.
"She used the Jenova cells to call him to her and got him to finally kill her. With her dead, Jenova could use the body as it pleased. No one’s sure if Lucrecia knew that. Not sure what grudge Jenova had against him or why it was so big, but he was the only person Lucrecia knew that was still alive. Take what you can get.
"Vincent didn’t want you to know, but Cloud thought you should be told, now that it’s dead."
"So’s he."
"He’s alive, Cid."
"Not good enough."
"I know. I should’ve been there."
"Been where? What would a goddamn robot have done that no one else could?"
"I don’t know."
"I always said she was killing him."
"You going to get through this?"
"I don’t know."
"You’re not going to take him off life support, are you?"
"No. He’s had enough shit. He doesn’t need me giving him more."