*
After what seemed endless hours, Vincent quieted and drifted to sleep. His breathing sounded ragged, labored, and his pallor didn't alleviate Natalie's suspicions he wouldn't survive the night. She put on a brave face for him, though, and didn't let the tears of mental and emotional exhaustion slip past. Once his breathing deepened in sleep, her search for the diagram began in earnest. For her there would be no rest until she eased his agony. Nothing else mattered. It was Vincent or nothing.
Natalie found the diagram for not only the release of the tubes from the metal guides, but also for the mechanism within the claw. So, shortly after Vincent drifted to his not-so-restful slumber, she guided his arm to a more manageable position to reach the catch. It took barely a moment for the tubing to slip free of his arm. Then she set the claw aside with a sob of relief, shifting her mind to the next project of studying the diagram of the mechanism within.
Natalie stared down at him, watching the flashes of pain and agony. "I wanted to protect you from this, Vincent," she whispered. "I wanted your cure to be painless. To be simple. To be . . . to be so many other things." Her fingers curled into the bed-sheet, the sobs choking off her voice. She wanted so many things for him, and with each passing minute it became a struggle to believe any of it remained possible. Natalie rested her forehead against the feverish skin of his chest. "Vincent . . . I am so sorry. I seem to cause you more pain than Hojo ever did."
But this path wasn't forced upon him, she reminded herself. They both knew the risks, and they both decided to face them: together.
Natalie choked back the cry and turned away, swiping furiously at the tears burning her cheeks. At her desk, she slumped into the chair, drawing close the claw and its diagram for study. Much to her numbed surprise, she found the device within the claw contained a portion of Jenova cells within a cylinder, manufacturing more of its own volition as needed. She retrieved Vincent's original DNA from the previously hidden storage facility within the lab, filled the container of the device, and reinserted it into the golden claw. Then she connected the device to the appropriate port of the computer, hacked the security system, and reprogrammed the device to introduce Vincent's original DNA on a regular and more frequent basis.
Once she double- and triple-checked her programming, she ran a simulation, modified the rate of introduction, and then programed a status monitor that would adjust the amount accordingly.
All took less than an hour.
Natalie released a deep breath and pushed from the computer, reassembled claw in hand. Vincent continued to sleep, breathing ragged and skin pale. As she sat beside him, she was simply too exhausted to feel anything but numbed determination as she reattached his claw, reinserted the tubing, and removed the clamps. As the liquid irritated the inflamed vessels within his arms, Vincent's waning strength barely allowed a brief moan.
"Everything is done, Vincent." She moved to his other side, gathering up his hand to apply a tender pressure. "Now we wait, again." His fingers tightened slightly upon hers, and a smile escaped the numbness. "I hope your dreams are nicer than what I have been doing to you. You deserve some relief."
She sat on the edge of the bed, watching his face. An expression of calm and comfort smoothed away the lines, and his breathing, though labored still, seemed to strengthen. "I'm still trying, Vincent. I'm still trying to make it go away. Just fight it with me. You can still do that, right? Don't give up. Remember what you said? You said that a future with me was better than death." Natalie laid down beside him, drawing him tight against her. "Please, Vincent. Please remember that. Please don't leave me alone."
XVI
A FINAL FAREWELL
Natalie stared down at the tombstone in numbed grief.
Here rests Vincent Valentine.
Comrade. Fellow Savior.
Lover of Life. Searcher of Peace.
Rest well.
It wasn't supposed to end this way . . . .
The thought drifted through her fogged mind as she placed the flower on the black tombstone. No, it wasn't supposed to have ended that way. In her ending he was cured. In her fantasy he took her in his arms and made her whole. A part of him. Forever bonded in a way that would never be shared with another soul. Her heart writhed in agony, and she lowered her gaze to the freshly turned soil separating her from her one and only love.
Natalie dropped to her knees, clutching at the earth with a soul-felt sob. "You weren't supposed to die, Vincent." She wanted to screech in rage and agony at the heavens, demand that he be returned to her . . . . But her voice could only manage a choked moan.
"Natalie? Why are you here?"
She hunched over, digging her fingers still deeper into the cool soil. The temptation to dig out his body nearly overwhelmed her. "I can't leave him alone. Not here. He needed to be loved. I needed to love him--Oh god, why didn't I just leave him alone? Why did I find him?" Her throat closed over the words, and her shoulders convulsed with burning tears.
"You gave him new life," the voice whispered in her ear. "You released his soul from torment and gave him peaceful rest. You gave him what no one else could offer. Love and serenity. Would you take it back?"
"Yes," Natalie rasped. "If it meant he continued to live, I would!"
"Then what of me? Dearest Natalie, don't you love me?" Hands from the mysterious voice grasped her arms and guided her gaze upward--Natalie gasped, her gaze swallowed by the dark, rich depths of Vincent--
--Natalie sat up with a groan, sliding from the bed as she covered her face with her hands. "A dream. It was a dream. It was only a dream," she mumbled over and over.
A dream that, again, seemed so real. Too real. It spoke volumes, revealing what she believed as a truth: she murdered one so the other could live. She put one to rest so she could live the remainder of her days in happiness with the one she loved more than anything. Natalie turned her head, her gaze falling to Vincent's still form. Her body followed. "And here you are." Tears clouded her vision as she stepped forward, leaning her hands against the bed and letting her head fall forward. The tears dripped to the sheet.
Waiting had never been such hell.
A Rose By Any Other Name Page 28