Don't Give Up Now
Title: Don't Give Up Now Fandom: FFVII, original game Characters: Tseng, Cait Sith Wordcount: 649 Rating: T, to be safe Prompt: Cait Sith and Tseng: "Don't give up now."
Tseng awoke to the odd sensation of being repeatedly poked by something soft and furry, which somehow only managed to make his wounds more painful by contrast. A moment ago, he had thought himself to be back in an office. Now he was slumped against a pillar being prodded by the stuffed cat known as Cait Sith. Somehow, real life always managed to infinitely more surreal than dreams. Not to mention nothing was quite focusing.
“Hmmwhaa?” he murmurred, having hoped to produce something a little more coherant, but that would have to do for now.
“You have to get out of here,” the cat informed him with uncharacteristic seriousness. Tseng blinked a couple of times, trying to make his vision focus. It sort of worked.
“What the hell, Reeve?” His mouth was working again, though the words were considerably weaker than he would like. Everything about him right now was considerably weaker than he would like. The cat frowned briefly.
“Cait Sith,” it corrected. Tseng was not in the mood for this game, especially when the cat--the person behind the cat, rather--apparently had something important to tell him.
“I know who I’m talking to,” the Turk reminded, mustering just enough harshness to get the point across, though the words still came in broken breaths. “Now what’s going on?” The puppet regained it’s seriousness.
“You have to get out of here. This whole place is gonna collapse, and you don’t have much time.” Tseng nodded weakly, and attempted to stand. Pain shot through him, followed by dizziness, and he collapsed back to the floor.
“No good,” he muttered frustratedly. “Can’t move...” The cat frowned, and Tseng decided there were few things weirder than seeing pity in the eyes of a stuffed cat.
“I got a potion. It’s not much, but not like I’m gonna be needing it.” At another weak nod from the Turk, the cat pulled out a bottle, the contents of which Tseng immediately downed. And it wasn’t much, but it was definitely something. He tried to stand again, and this time succeeded. Painfully, and with much support from the pillar, but he was on his feet.
“Thanks,” he told the puppet, and staggered a few feet. “Should get moving...” The cat nodded and walked beside him for those first few steps, presumably hoping to pad his fall if he collapsed.
“I can’t go with you much more. Got other stuff to do,” Cait Sith explained, then looked up at the Turk with unexpected excitement. “You want a fortune?” he asked. Tseng stopped abruptly and peered at the puppet.
“What?” The question surprised him enough that he almost fell over right then.
“I’m on a roll today,” the cat said dismissively, “Don’t ask. But here’s your fortune-- you’ve got lucky stars today. You’re gonna make it out of here, and your lassie’s gonna be real happy to see you in one piece.”
“Meaning Elena?” he questioned weakly, then chuckled quietly. “That’s not a fortune. It’s a wish, an assumption, and an observation.” The cat smiled back at him.
“Never said a fortune was anything else,” he said simply. “Now get going. I don’t have enough time to try to carry you to an exit.” That said, he skittered away, pausing only briefly to say, “Don’t give up now. It was a wish I would prefer came true.” And then he was gone, and Tseng was on his own to find a way out.
“My ‘lassie,’” he muttered to himself amusedly, one hand bracing against a wall for support as he walked on. “You’re a nut, Reeve.”
Not that he wasn’t grateful. His steps were uneven, and his body was wracked with pain, but he would probably be able to find his way out thanks to the cat.
Now he just had to get himself safely to an exit, and then he could go back to sleep.