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Into Haven [8/?]

Into Haven chapter 8 (c) stripesco04_nur

Luigi paced like a mad man outside of the double doors labeled EMERGENCY. It had been nearly two and half hours since Paviche had been ushered away from his breast, and the Largo snarled angrily at being kept in the dark.

He slammed his hands flat against the cracked tiles, cringing at the stinging sensation that flowed between his palms and fingers. A small feminine gasp echoed loudly around the semi-empty hallway. Luigi turned to regard his psychiatrist, who was his only other occupant in the room.

Doctor Pinnip tucked one of her ankles behind the other, and folded her hands upon her brown skirt. Her teeth bit nervously at her lower lip, while her glasses slid another inch or two down the bridge of her nose.

"Mr. Largo," She began, pushing her glasses back in place as the man snorted his attention. "Maybe you should go get some rest. It's been nearly three hours, and might be several more before we," Luigi cocked his head, glaring a bit. "You," Dr. Pinnip corrected herself. "Can know his condition."

Luigi gave a huff while turning his face away from the shrink. Doctor Pinnip swallowed thickly before speaking up once more, "You still have dry blood on your shirt!"

Luigi blinked in astonishment, glancing downwards to the dry dark stained maroon color streaked across his grey shirt. His eyes widened a bit in the sudden realization that Paviche's blood was now forever stained upon his outfit. He moved on wobbly legs to the nearest unoccupied plastic chair in the hallway. His body sagged in desperation as the doors to the emergency room opened and an old middle aged man donning a surgeon's outfit emerged.

He flipped through a data sheet and frowned as Luigi almost instantly launched himself from the hard seat to standing in front of the surgeon.

"Well," The Largo snapped impatiently. "What's his condition?"

"Stable, for now." The surgeon replied tersely. He pushed the pages back down and ignored the Largo as he made his way down the hall. Luigi felt a surge of irritation rise within himself at the motives the surgeon was showing, and he ran after the man; slamming him into the wall of the hallway and gripping his coat collar threatening.

"Mr. Largo!" Dr. Pinnip shouted; lifting herself up from her seat as Luigi threw the man upon the floor in a fit of rage.

"What do you mean he's 'stable for now'?" The Largo asked angrily.

The man cringed against the floor of the hallway, cradling the data sheet as he tried to compose himself to answer the seething young man above him.

"Just what I said," The surgeon said, "He was brought in critical condition, and he would need a blood transfusion to make a full recovery. But his blood-type is quite unusual, and since he has no one to care for him this hospital doesn't care if he receives a blood donor or not."

Luigi flinched backwards as if he had been burned. He glared piteously at the surgeon, who had continued his explanation, "However, he's in stable condition right now, and he could possibly pull through; which I'm sure he will!"

"What kind of blood-type does he have?"

"Um..." The man trailed off. He attentively grabbed a hold of the data sheet and moved a page around before answering from his Indian-position on the floor. "Negative AB."

Luigi froze, immobile as he took in this new information about Paviche. But there's no way... His mind swirled with the information. Only my father and I have that similar blood-type...

Composing himself slightly - with a somewhat internal struggle effort on his part - Luigi opened his mouth, voicing his thoughts vocally.

"What if I knew someone that had that same blood-type? Would Paviche be able to receive the transfusion that will allow him a full recovery, instead of this iffy half and half decision?"

The surgeon blinked in bewilderment as he had regained his balance and was now standing on his feet once more. "Well, of course," He whispered.

"Then take what you need!" Luigi shoved his shirt sleeve down and bared his naked arm out for the surgeon to observe. There was a slow shake of his head before the Largo snarled at him. "I have the same blood-type - negative AB - as Paviche. Check my medical records if you don't believe me, but take what you need to heal him!"

Doctor Pinnip stood next to the agitated man, and she sent a considerate look his way as the surgeon nodded his head and proceeded to beckon the Largo down the hall and back through the emergency doors.


Luigi couldn't tear his gaze away from the unmoving form of his roommate upon the hospital bed. Although Paviche's small chest was rising up and down, the Largo felt this uncontrollable urge to wrap the boy up into his embrace and shelter him away from all this horror.

He squashed all thoughts that his subconscious mind sent him about his feelings for the boy; he was just a shiny fuckable toy - that was all! Yet his entire body seemed scared with the thought of Paviche dying, and with his eyes still trained upon the small frame, Luigi hissed out loud as a deep needle was shoved into the junction above his elbow.

He looked up at the nurse who was busy retracting half his own blood into a decent sized jar. Her short blonde hair curled in sharp edges around her face, giving off the sort of Zydrate punk-look. Her face and attitude was priceless, however, as the Largo took notice of her form trembling a bit while trying to not look so frightened around him.

"I have no knives; you don't have to be afraid," Luigi whispered, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"I-I know... I just know that if I d-do something wrong my life will b-" The woman's voice cut off, but Luigi understood her fear. If anything were to happen to Luigi Largo - the only male heir to GeneCO - Rotti would demand her life for her actions, accidental or not.

They ignored each other for a while, until a third of the jar was filled with deep crimson fluid. Luigi still couldn't help the angry hiss that spilled from his mouth when the needle was removed, and the blonde nurse began applying a cotton ball to the wound and held a Band-Aid up.

"I don't need that!" The Largo shouted, shoving the Band-Aid away and walking over to where Paviche lay. His legs felt woozy and he sighed in relief as he sat down near his roommate. Almost instantly he tried to find the boy's hand, and once that was accomplished he held in within his own larger one; running his thumb almost unconsciously against the back knuckles of Paviche's hand.

"Paviche," Luigi whispered, holding the boy's hand tighter while bending his head towards the crook of his neck. "Sii forte e tirare attraverso."

The blonde nurse observed the Largo's behavior from the corner of her eyes as she adjusted the newly donor's blood bag next to the unconscious patient's bedside. She ran an alcohol cloth over Paviche's right hand before injecting a needle and tube into his vein; releasing the crimson contents into the boy's body. As she stood back away, her job finished, she was surprised to see Luigi staring at her sharply.

She felt her throat tighten and her body tense up in the anticipation of a blow that would never come. Luigi noticed this, and asked in a sort of demanding tone, "What do you know of Paviche's mother?"

The blonde tilted her head in confusion. "I-I don't know anything about his mother!"

"Could you get me any information on his mother?"

The blonde wanted to laugh. No, of course not she couldn't get personal information to someone who wasn't related to the patient. It was in no way impossible, but it would break the doctor/patient confidential that the hospital upheld.

"It would be against the hospital rules, Mr. Largo," She whispered. Her body tensed even more as the said man let go of Paviche's hand and had made his way from the chair over to her. He slid his arms around her body; twirling them about so the blonde nurse was leaning against the Largo's chest.

Almost instantly a sharp small surgeon's knife was pressed against the base of her throat - creating a thin red line. The nurse whimpered as Luigi whispered hotly against her ear, "Not when my father owns this hospital, my dear. Now any information at all that you can find on his mother would be of most interest to me."

He relaxed his arms a bit, but instantly tightened them once-more digging the surgeon’s knife tighter against her throat. "But should you not relay any information back to me," He threatened, gripping her tighter and stifling his chuckles of laughter at her fearful whimpers. "You'll find your throat open and bare."

He finally released her, and the blonde struggled to retain herself before scurrying away in hopes of finding any kind of information about Paviche's mother.

Luigi's mouth curved upwards in a sick smile at the power he had just demonstrated with the surgeon's knife. God, how he had missed this sort of power. He cradled the knife closer to him, but casted it aside - it just wasn't the same as his switchblade, or his butcher knife that lay hidden within the expansion of his room.

He moved his body back over to the same chair and once-more took hold of Paviche's smaller hand. This time he was impressed to feel a sudden gentle squeeze back against his own. He glanced up to the boy's face, but the face was emotionless - eyes closed, mouth sort of relaxed. Leaning upwards, Luigi kissed the unresponsive lips; nibbling a bit on the bottom lip before pulling away.

," He whispered loudly in Italian. "Per favore svegliati

Please leave anything!


Sii forte e tirare attraverso = Be strong and pull through.

Svegliati /
Per favore svegliati! = Wake up, / Please wake up!