Just a little fic I popped out one late night while lazing on a riverbank and staring at the university's version of the Nibelheim mansion. XD Done just 'cause I felt a bit of angst and whatnot. This is a deathfic, but there is no outstanding gory details. Hell, there's not even anything other than a vague description. Go me. If you read, please review. I like to see what people think and what I need work on. :D


Remember Me This Way

Cid cast his gaze around, taking in his surroundings. It was all quite different than what he last remembered, what with the abnormally high number of new buildings and streets. He was used to the main road, really not even that, running its circular path around the center of town. Sure, there were houses and a few small businesses, but there was never anything that resembled a small city. The hum of cars passing by disrupted the uneasy silence that he only recalled, the real thing being something more calming than memory.

He let his eyes wander across the strange yet familiar town, blue depths falling on a structure that seemed to have never changed. The dark façade was still as it had been , foreboding and unwelcoming. Lightless windows shimmered faintly in the moonlight, the street lamps placed near the building showing enough of the outside to tell him that yes, the old mansion didn't really change over time.

When he had first laid eyes on Nibelheim, he had never imaged then that it would ever become something more than a decrepit, failing village. Of course, that had been close to seven years ago. He was fifty-two now and well beyond his imaginative years. And even if he had imagined Nibelheim as something different, it certainly wouldn't have been like this.

His gaze once more drifted back to the mansion looming at the far end of town, picking out the smaller buildings, most likely houses, surrounding it. Now that was even stranger than the idea of the town growing. Before, most everyone had looked to that mansion in fear and with loathing. It was said to be cursed and dangerous, so much so that the townspeople even went out of their ways to avoid the gate. Only one man had ever called the mansion anything but damned and he had called it home.

Cid briefly wondered if Vincent minded the fact that there were neighbors now. Of course, that was the kind of thing that wouldn't bother Vincent at all. That was, if the gunman even still lived there. For all he knew, the dark man could have been on the other side of the planet right then. Then again, it was Vincent he was thinking about. The gunner didn't have any other place to call home and he really doubted that a new one had been found.

Letting out a soft sigh into the night air, Cid settled himself down on the grassy slope he was standing. A little rest wouldn't hurt and he had to admit, looking at the somewhat lightened mansion with the little, quaint houses around it, seemed almost calming. Sure, he knew what lived in the place aside from Vincent, but he couldn't see any of the inhabitants from there; just the building which seemed to almost be captivating with its sheer difference from the town.

He smiled as the dew soaked through his clothes, chilling him slightly. Stars shone brightly above his head and he spent a moment picking out a few constellations he liked best. In his mind a memory flickered like a nearly-spent light bulb, a voice whispering through his mind. "Highwind, you always do the strangest things for pleasure."

He couldn't help but smile again, but this time the curve to his lips was saddened. The voice was one he hadn't heard in seven years, the same amount as the last time he had seen this place. It wasn't coincidence either, unfortunately for him. He had dropped off Vincent at the outskirts of Nibelheim then, telling him that he had better keep in touch. Naturally he hadn't actually expected the man to do so, but he could always hope.

Another sigh was loosed, the night air forming a light fog from his breath. He had to admit, Vincent had been right. He did do the strangest things for pleasure, especially when he figured in the fact that most of those things ended up hurting him somehow. Closing his eyes against the shimmering lights and stars, he nearly jumped at the sound of a soft voice.

"Naturally. Star-gazing. You do find the strangest things to do when you should be doing others."

He huffed, tipping his head to the side but not bothering to open his eyes. Why should he anyway, when he knew who he was going to see? "Expect anythin' different? 'S only been seven years."

"Has it really?" A tone of playful amazement had wound its way into the voice as grass crinkled under light footsteps. "Mind if I sit?"

"Why would I? Your damned town, ain't it?" Cid stretched his arms above his head, scratching idly at his wrist. "So how ya been doin'? Killed anyone lately?"

The sound of a chuckle reached the pilot's ears and he tried to bite back a smile. "No, I can't say I've done that. It's… all about the same."

"Yeah, 'cept ya got a damned city in your backyard. Betcha love that."

"It's not bad." A shuffling next to him signaled that Vincent had taken his offer and sat. "So why are you here? Business?" The blond head nestled in the grass nodded. "I did hear of a certain pilot doing a bit of trade a few days ago."

"Did ya?"

"Mhmm. I'm just wondering why he's still here."

At that, Cid finally opened his eyes and glanced over at Vincent. "See ya ain't changed much."

"Same with you. And about being here?" There was something that resembled a smile, perhaps a small curl to his lips, settled on the gunman's face. The normally present scarlet cloak was gone, replaced by a simple coat to fight the night's chill, so it was easily visible.

"Told ya. Business." The pilot cast his eyes over to the side, picking out a single blade of grass where a moth rested, its wings trembling faintly. "Why?"

"I was just wondering if your staying here longer than needed was because of some particular reason." Vincent paused, letting out a breath. "Or if there was some particular someone."

Blue flicked over to meet red, their eyes locking for an instant. "What're ya gettin' at? 'M just here for a couple trades. Don't see why I'd be here for somethin' else or someone, ya know? Not like I know all that many people here 'sides ya."

"Yuffie told me, you know." Only when Cid caught his gaze again did Vincent continue. "That you were in love with me. She was right, wasn't she? That's why you're still here."

Cid swallowed, but it was simply to keep the urge to laugh down. "She told ya I loved ya?" A small nod of the ebony head of his companion. "Then she's been smokin' somethin'. I didn't love ya."

"You didn't?"

"Nah. Never loved ya. Wanted ya, yeah, but didn't love ya." Folding his arms behind his head, Cid let out a silent sigh as he waited for Vincent's response.

"W-wanted me? I don't understand."

"Wanted ya. Ya know, desired, craved, longed for ya. I lusted over ya. But I didn't love ya." He emphasized the last statement with a nod of his head, a few flecks of dew falling onto his cheek. "Why?"

Vincent was silent, something not so odd for the man. "I was just wondering. Yuffie had sounded so insistent and then you show up…"

"Well, jeez. You're soundin' all disappointed." Laughing quietly, Cid reached a hand up and ruffled Vincent's hair the best he could. But all he got was a hand full of dark hair and a look that was slightly confused. "Either way, not like I'm gonna go sweep ya off your feet an' turn ya into a pretty, pretty princess. Just not me, ya know?"

Vincent's lips twitched, but remained closed for a moment as he thought. "Do you still… want me now?"

"Eh, sometimes." Untangling his hand, Cid let it fall to the grass. The blades were far rougher than the thin strands he had had wrapped around his fingers, but he figured it was for the best not to confuse Vincent any further by doing something that could be taken the wrong way. "But not all that much."

"Oh."

Silence once again took over, spreading between them like a thin sheen of water. But it wasn't awkward, instead more of a calm silence. A cricket chirped a short song in the distance, the ringing sound crisply carrying over town. But the moment was eased away with Cid clearing his throat. "I guess part of comin' here was to see ya," he said softly, his voice remaining low. "Kinda felt I should say bye."

"Why? Where are you going?"

Cid smiled bitterly. "No where. But, ya know how it goes. The cigs and alcohol finally sank their teeth in an' damn are they bitin' hard." At Vincent's glance, he shrugged. "Docs say I've got a year at most. Probably less, but I'd rather hear later than sooner."

The gunman's head bowed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Ah, it's nothin'. Knew it was gonna happen eventually. Just glad I got to do most of what I wanted to before anythin' happened." Breathing out, Cid looked back up at the lights shimmering in the sky, a firefly flickering greenish-yellow in the mix of white pinpoints. "Just kinda wanted to let ya know."

Vincent nodded solemnly, his gaze cast aside. "I appreciate it. That I get to hear it from you and not someone else after the fact."

"Yeah." The pilot licked his lips. Then he laughed, a small one, but still a laugh. "Get this. The Docs made me fill out a livin' will. Weird, huh? Kinda hard to stand there an' try an' figure out where everythin's gonna go when you're not around."

"I can imagine."

"Yeah. Then ya get to thinkin' about how eventually that thing's gonna get used by some old guy standin' in front of your coffin, readin' it out to everyone. Can just see some crotchety fool up there goin' 'the house an' all the possessions go to Shera, the Tiny Bronco goes to Cloud an' the Highwind II goes to Vincent. Weird, huh?"

"Wait." Vincent suddenly grasped Cid's arm. "You… you're just making that up, right?" When Cid gave him one of his patented smiles, the gunner blanched. "Cid, your airship is your life. Why would you will it to me? Are you going senile also?"

The blond laughed again, this time a bit louder. "Nah, I think I chose pretty damn well. I mean, think about it. I ain't gonna have a use for it when I'm gone an' really… neither does anyone else but ya. Ya don't really have a place to call your own 'cept for that old shack over there an' I know how ya hate to stay in one place for too long." He paused, giving Vincent another smile. "I know 'cause I'm the same way."

"But—"

"No buts. This way I know someone I trust has it an' ya can have a place of your own that ya don't have to share with those ghoulies ya call your friends. Plus, the thing moves. Ya ever get tired of where you're at, ya get 'er runnin' an' take off for wherever. What's not to want?"

"But Cid, I don't know how to fly that ship of yours."

Cid smirked. "I showed ya that one time, remember?"

"I was half-drunk. You really expect me to remember everything you explained?"

"Guess not. But still. There're instructions an' I'm sure the old crew'll give ya some pointers." Scratching the back of his neck, Cid yawned. "So no arguin' with me."

Vincent looked as if he were about to protest, but he decided against it. "So is that what you stayed around for? To tell me that?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Grunting, the pilot shoved himself up until he was sitting next to the other. "Well, an' to do this, I guess."

Silence engulfed them once more as Cid's fingers curled around Vincent's neck, drawing him closer to the lips brushing against his own. There was almost a desperation in caress, but it was still small enough for them to break free, the blond standing quickly after. "Well, guess I'll see ya 'round then."

Burgundy eyes followed the other as he started to walk away, hands shoved in the pockets of his baggy pants. "Cid…"

"Oh yeah. One more thing." The pilot's shoulders rolled back a bit, straightening his entire stance. "Don't come to the funeral."

It was evident that Vincent was shocked from the tone of his voice. "Why?" he asked, nearly squeaking the word out.

"'Cause I'd rather ya not see me lyin' in some coffin before they chuck me in the ground." He turned, a smile settled on his face even though his eyes gave away the melancholy he was holding in. "I'd rather ya remember me this way, the way ya always remembered me. 'Kay?"

Vincent could only nod as Cid turned away again, his languid pace slowly allowing him to be absorbed into the darkness.

The letter came a few weeks later. Vincent wasn't sure how long he had stood there reading the words, trying to make himself understand that someone so vibrant and alive was now just… not. The invitation to the funeral came soon after and, following Cid's final request, he sent a reply declining. Only when he received the request that he come claim the Highwind II from its place in Rocket Town did he give a notion that he would go.

Explanations were demanded nearly as soon as he reached the town, Shera, Cloud and the rest of their acquaintances waiting anxiously for the reason Vincent had declined to say his final goodbyes. Upon restating Cid's words though, they all agreed that it was quite a Cid-like thing to do and allowed him to escape any more ridicule for not attending.

Shera had graciously waited until the others had retired to take Vincent to the hangar where Cid's last gift to him rested. Metal gleamed in the moonlight as the doors were forced open. Vincent shivered, feeling as if he were facing something more than the airship. And really, he was. He was facing the last memory he would ever hold of the pilot, the last connection he had to a friendship that had ended so abruptly.

The sound of his footsteps in the hallways echoed as he made his way through them alone, his gaze falling on doors and rooms he had long since forgotten. But somehow, whether through his own instinct of through something more, he found the cockpit and the captain's controls, his lips twitching faintly. He swore that if he looked hard enough, or perhaps off to the side, he could see Cid standing there, wavering just barely with the motion of the ship, his hands firmly gripping the wheel. The confident voice floated through his head, explaining a few of the levers and what to do when. But instead of eliciting any knowledge of how to fly an airship, the memory only brought on a sort of tightness in his chest.

Vincent stepped closer, almost as if he feared what would happen if he approached the place that used to be Cid's. But he finally made it, his fingers just grazing the smooth surfaces of the wheel. His thumb brushed something rough and he jumped, gingerly touching it again. Paper. Frowning, he slipped his finger under the tape holding it down and unfolded it, reading over the scrawled writing that seemed to hold him captivated.

Vincent,

Guess she's yours now. Just hope you take care of her. Ah, what'm I talking about? You're you. I know you'll treat her right. Oh. And just for the record, I didn't love you. But then again, I did lie to you. I did love you, but just a little. Not too much, just enough, ya know? And I don't have any regrets, just so you know. Thought I should tell someone that. Well, guess that's it. I'll be seeing you around, huh, Vince?

Cid

Vincent read over the words a few more times, his breath slowly forcing itself from between his lips when he was sure he was done. And then Vincent Valentine did something that he hadn't done in a long while; he genuinely smiled.