Pairing: Vinnie Vincent x Eric Carr
Setting: Mount Sinai Hospital – New York City, 1991
Trigger warning: Heart transplant, hospital setting, mentions of past illness and medical anxiety (all within TOS)
Vinnie Vincent hadn't slept in 36 hours.
Not because he was scrubbing in. Not this time. He wasn't allowed anywhere near the operating room. He wasn't family—not legally, anyway—and the most the nurse could do was offer him stale coffee and a hard plastic chair in the waiting room.
But he wasn't leaving. Not when Eric was in there.
Not when the love of his life was having his chest cracked open and a stranger's heart placed inside.
Eric had been sick for a while.
The arrhythmias. The dizzy spells. The way he'd started losing breath after just walking down the street. He still smiled, still cracked jokes, still made Vinnie feel like the only person in the room—but Vinnie could see it. The pain behind his eyes. The fear he tried to hide.
"You're not gonna lose me," Eric had whispered the night before the transplant. "I'm too damn stubborn."
"You better not," Vinnie had whispered back, kissing his knuckles. "I just started getting used to your snoring."
OR 4 – 6:13 a.m.
The surgery had started three hours ago.
Vinnie kept replaying every detail in his mind—Eric going under anesthesia, his heartbeat slowing, the team of surgeons making the first incision. He imagined every cut. Every clamp. Every suture. His stomach twisted every time a nurse walked past without making eye contact.
What if it rejects?
What if something goes wrong?
What if I never get to hear his laugh again?
Waiting Room – 9:48 a.m.
"Vincent?"
Vinnie stood so fast his chair tipped over.
The lead surgeon—Dr. Stein—gave him a soft, tired smile.
"It went perfectly. The donor heart started beating the moment we unclamped. Textbook rhythm. No signs of rejection. He's stable."
Vinnie's breath left him in a rush.
He nearly collapsed.
"He's okay?"
"He's gonna need time. Recovery, meds, careful monitoring. But yes. He's okay."
Vinnie buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook.
"Can I—can I see him?"
Dr. Stein smiled again. "He asked for you."
ICU – 10:12 a.m.
Eric looked pale. Fragile. Tubes in his nose, wires on his chest, machines humming around him like a mechanical orchestra. But his eyes—those warm, honey-brown eyes—were open.
"Hey, spaceman," he croaked, voice raw.
Vinnie was at his side in two seconds flat. He grabbed Eric's hand and kissed it, over and over.
"You scared the shit out of me."
Eric gave a tiny smile. "Told you I was stubborn."
"You've got someone else's heart in your chest right now."
"Yeah," Eric whispered. "But it still beats for you."
Vinnie choked on a sob. He climbed gently into the edge of the hospital bed, careful of the wires, and laid beside him, their foreheads touching.
"I love you," Vinnie whispered.
Eric blinked slow. "Then you better stick around to help me figure out how to live again."
"You got it," Vinnie whispered. "Every beat."
Epilogue – Six Months Later
They were on a beach in Montauk.
Eric was still healing—still had to avoid crowds, still carried his meds everywhere—but he was smiling again. Really smiling. He had color in his cheeks and sunlight on his skin.
Vinnie brought him coffee, curled up next to him in the sand, and pressed his hand over Eric's chest.
"I still can't believe it."
Eric placed his hand over Vinnie's.
"Believe it. I'm here. Alive. And I'm never letting you go."
Vinnie just nodded, burying his face in Eric's shoulder as the sun set behind them—heartbeat steady, strong, and entirely theirs.
YOU ARE READING
Bandom One-shots book 3
FanfictionI take requests! Fluff, Smut and Angst Lots of bands from the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s. I also take requests for SOME artists from the 2000s but I prefer anything before that :)
