The Search for Spike
A.N.: This won't all be narrated by Cid. But it's he who brought me the story, and so it's he who gets the first chapter. Only fair.
I also have to say that I haven't done a chaptered fic in a long time; we'll see how it goes.
Chapter One: The Taste of Eternity
Cid Highwind had always wanted to be a hero.
Not because he wanted beautiful women, tons of gil, or any of that shit. Those things were as transient as the people who valued them; Cid wanted to be eternal. He wanted to die knowing he wasn't really dying, knowing that his name would echo in the ears of others for generations. He wanted to mean something.
Cid's first taste of immortality had come the day he had been selected by Shin-Ra to lead the space program, and it had been far too swift and small for his liking. Victory was like a drug for Cid; the minute he had it, he wanted more. The satisfaction that came with being the best scratched an itch so deep inside him that no woman or pack of smokes had ever come close to reaching it. It was why he'd hated Shera so much for ruining the rocket launch; the bitch had come between him and what he wanted, and even years later after he'd been proven in the wrong, after he'd married her and slept in the same bed as her, even named an airship after her, he still hated that feeling. Still hated her, a little, for making him feel it. For denying him his shot at the stars.
Cid Highwind was not a man to be denied, and back when there had been AVALANCHE, the Planet and Meteor, Red and Vincent and Geostigma, Cid Highwind had wanted to be remembered, and there had never been enough hours in the day for him to work toward that goal.
Cid Highwind had been a fool.
He had eternity now, a gift from the Heartless.
He had it, and he didn't have a single fuckin' clue what to do with the time he'd been given. Because the thing people tell you about being a hero is, the thing they always forget to mention; most of the time, you do it alone.
He had what he finally wanted, and he'd trade it for ten fucking minutes in Costa Del Sol, getting plastered on double-shot margaritas and watching the bouncing tits of the girls in swimsuits. Except that Costa Del Sol was so much dust among dust, and come to think of it, so were those pretty little ladies too.
Except for their hearts, of course.
Those were probably still kicking around somewhere.
The thought sent a shiver down Cid's spine, and he took another pull from the whiskey bottle to burn off the chill. It was cold in the gummi ship hangar, because he had the blast doors open. His breath curled out in a fog so pungent with alcohol that it would probably have knocked out a Shadow had one chosen to appear. The stars above Traverse Town were clear and sharp this evening, though, and a little cold wasn't going to stop him from admiring them in peace.
They served as a ready distraction from the huge, sheet-covered hulk of ship that filled the hangar in front of him. Yep, Cid figured that with the stars looking like this every night, he could ignore that gummi ship forever. Shit, give him a few more bottles of whiskey, and he might be able to forget that Spike had been missing for almost a month now—and wasn't it odd, how he'd disappeared less than 24 hours before they found Aeris, sitting on the edge of the fountain like she'd risen from the waves. Venus Rising, or whatever that painting was called. She hadn't been naked, but the hair was around the same color and he'd been so happy to see someone he knew, he hadn't even cared about the clothes. Really.
Cloud had been missing for almost a month now, and he could feel the subject hovering around them unspoken when the group of them was together, sharing a meal, or when one of the girls came in to clean the place. Even Leon was starting to look a little uncomfortable with it, and Cid knew that if Leon was aware something needed to be discussed, things were worse than he'd thought. Aeris would turn to him with those pretty wide eyes and that voice they had all thought was silent forever, or Yuffie would lay nimble fingers on slim hips and trumpet it out, or Leon would clear his throat and grunt, and someone would inquire as to the status of his ship. Inquire as to the status of its pilot, and was he up for a small search mission? Just the local planets, of course, the rocket the three of them—Cid, Cloud, and Yuffie puking her guts out in the rear-- had flown off the Planet had been too rickety to make it very far, Cloud was probably stranded wherever he'd ended up after he stole it…
It made sense, of course. But the thought of getting behind the controls, of taking on responsibility and goals and plans, of bearing the burden of carrying other people's hope again, was too much. He'd been up to bat in this game before, hit two home runs, but the third go round, he'd failed big time. The gilt had flaked off those cheap victories, and exposed the void beneath. There was always one more fight, one more chapter, and Cid Highwind was damn tired of turning pages. That kid who'd come through here, he expected all of them to jump right in, stop the Heartless and save people they didn't know, worlds that weren't home, and Cid wanted to shake him and shake him until he understood.
"We were heroes once too." He wanted to yell. "All you're doing is starting a tale that doesn't have a happy ending. That girl you love will be dead or forget you, your friend will kill you or cast you aside once you help him, and you're never going to get home again because home is gone forever, swallowed up."
"What's up, old man? I smelled that rotgut whiskey you're drinking all the way from the street and thought I'd come reprimand you. Tifa would be disgusted you wasted your gil on that crap."
Cid tried not to flinch. Whether it was at the mention of Tifa's name, the forced jocularity in Yuffie's tone that implied she saw his small flow of tears, or the fact that she was right, he didn't know. He figured a combination of all three was probably at the heart of the urge, but pushed the thought aside with a snort. Didn't matter.
"Tifa ain't here, and you shouldn't know anything about whiskey anyway, you little brat. You're a minor."
Yuffie flashed him a broad, sly grin, and didn't respond. She instead hopped up next to him on the crates, curling her knees to her chest and leaning back on splayed palms to stare up at the stars. He took another pull from the bottle, emptying it to spite her, and pitched the vessel across the room, where it splintered against the sheet-covered hull of the ship.
"Grouch. Look out, or you'll damage her before the maiden voyage."
"There ain't gonna be a fuckin' voyage." He growled, biting down hard enough to splinter his toothpick. Paper thin wood curled soggy against his tongue as he sneered across the crate at Yuffie, whose face was suddenly expressionless, smooth and unsettling as those creepy masks the actors wore back in Wutai, what seemed like a millennium ago.
"I never promised anything." He said, this time almost defensively. He could hear himself convincing himself—and wasn't that just about the most surreal fucking experience?
She sighed then, and slid off the crate to stand with her back to him. One hand rested on an aggressively cocked hip, the wrist surprisingly slender without the targe attached. Her headband fluttered prettily in the breeze coming from the open doors overhead.
"You didn't promise anything because none of us have anything left to offer, Cid. This place, this time, is about rebuilding."
"And you can't do that without Cloud." He said.
"No, you jackass. We can't do that without you."
Her voice was surprisingly raw in contrast with the cold, statuesque manner in which she stood. Had she been Aeris, he would have given in right then, and Tifa would have needed only to stand in the moonlight with a hip cocked for him to do her bidding. But the fact of the matter was, this was Yuffie, and Yuffie was neither stacked like pancakes nor a sweet girl. She was not docile, or straightforward. Accept something from her, and you found yourself entering into a contract more binding than a fucking Shin-Ra PHS service plan—and that was saying something.
She was trying to play the guilt card, and as so often when playing cards with Yuffie, Cid smelled a rat.
"Cut the shit, Yuffie. You know I ain't buyin', and we ain't goin'."
She muttered something he didn't quite catch then, and that he didn't really have to. Her body going from rigid and perfect form to something curled and defensive, cringing, carried the message of her statement to him quite well. He did feel guilty then—for all the shit he gave her, Yuffie probably had some kind of moral compass in there somewhere, and unlike him, her heart was in the right place in this situation.
"Aw, Yuff." He growled, reverting to the old nickname. "You know I didn't—"
"Great!" She shouted, her body uncurling and spinning to spring toward him like those snakes out of the can the kids in Rocket Town
(Hey Mr Cid want some peanuts?)
used to fuck around with. Her arms curled around his neck with the easy grace he had forgotten women held in them, and her lips brushed against his cheek in a smooth and silky caress, not at all the sloppy wet thing he had expected.
"You're the best! Leon and I will be here first thing tomorrow!"
"Wait---Leon?"
In his shock, Cid's mind had gone numb, and become able to only focus on details such as Yuffie didn't slobber on me and Leon is coming. The greater notion that he had been thoroughly and irrevocably manipulated wouldn't sink in until he had walked almost all the way home.
Then, all he could do was pack, and deliberately forget the motion sickness potions the triplets brought over when they heard the news.
Chapter Two