Journey

Prologue

Summary: Cid Highwind's adventure started when he joined Avalanche, finding action, friendship, and most surprising of all, eventual love… The fic follows Cid through FF7 game events and further as the main character.

Pairing: Eventual Cid/Vincent

Notes: The prologue dialogue was almost completely taken from the FF7 script of the parts what were in the game. The rest I took my own liberties with. Anyway, enjoy.

/

With a loud slam and equally loud footsteps, a tempered, short-fused man entered his home from the back door entrance and stormed through the little hallway, into the spacey kitchen, trailing in a few tufts of garden grass that had clung to his boots. A shoelace tracked, untied, from under the hem of his cargo pants, flicking sharply with every jerk of a step. His edgy demeanor was almost visible in its intensity as he stood before the circular table, silent but not unheard. He seemed to regard the state of the kitchen with a distasteful scrutiny, but his gaze was beyond the walls of his home. His blue eyes were restless. He said nothing for a couple of seconds.

"Shera, I'm going to the rocket," he stated stridently, hands slung loosely on his hips as he chewed an unlit, battered cigarette.

Fixing a broken kettle that had in no way contributed to the simmering mood of its owner, Shera looked up from her task and observed the pilot. "Alright, Captain," she answered tentatively. He wasn't sporting the best mood, she could tell, so it would be wise to use a gentle tone.

He said nothing else as he strode to the front door on the other side of the kitchen, which he wrenched open and banged shut behind, leaving the room once again in silence. Shera's tinkering ceased as her brown eyes watched him through the window as he left the garden gate to swing shut on its own.

"I hope you get a second chance, Captain," she said softly.

/

The rocket was in perfect working order, as it had been for the past several years. None of Cid's tiny modifications and adjustments in the past had changed that, and neither did his current toying. He'd been over every inch of Rocket 26 that morning, a chore that was needless but necessary for Cid. He'd checked all the systems and all the machinery. It had taken him five hours. He'd even given the main hatch a good scrub. Dust and dirt had collected over the time the rocket had last moved, despite Cid's frequent visits.

Cid moved to the exposed circuitry on the entry deck, debating whether or not to encase them for aesthetic purposes. He then paused and stepped back, staring at them hard, realizing how much this visit could change his life. Rufus of Shinra could make his dreams come true.

Or he could ruin them.

Cid was no fool. He knew there was a spark of hope festering inside him, but he was wise not to rely on it. There was a much greater chance that the President's son would be visiting Rocket Town for matters not concerning the space program. But there was a chance he was. Had Cid believed that crossing his fingers would grant him his wish, he would be in knots.

The metallic THUNK of several boots on the decking flickered into his thoughts and pulled him back to reality. Cid turned around as three figures walked through the main hatch. He frowned in unwelcome irritation by the strange trio of guests, but paused. They were at first glance an odd group, but what drew his eyes weren't their strange appearances. It wasn't the weapons they boasted, or the mismatched bunch they were. It was the look in their eyes.

It was the space of a second, but that was all Cid needed as they approached. All three of the strangers were…different… but the one that stood out the most was the one who wasn't looking at him. No, he did look, just once. It was a quick, cold, calculating once-over that annoyed Cid for the entirety of half a second.

"What're you guys doin' here?" Cid questioned, jerking his head at the supposedly leader of the trio. He didn't want distractions, especially from people who weren't from his town.

The blond kid, probably late teens in age, had the look of someone who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Too much for someone that young. He fixed Cid with a pair of the bluest eyes the pilot had ever seen. They glowed with some unnatural energy, bright and vibrant, deep and intense. Cid was almost lost in their troubles.

"We heard the Captain was here…"

Cid huffed and folded his arms. "Captain? I'm the Captain." He looked from the young blond to the woman stood beside him. Like all men, the first thing his eyes fell to was a great set of tits. He quickly lifted his gaze to find a pretty but guarded face watching him curiously. Somehow, he knew she wasn't as fragile as her thin figure would have him think. "The name's Cid. Everyone calls me 'Captain', though. What d'yer want?"

The blond kid stepped curiously forward, his barriers dropping a little now he had found his target. "Tell me about this rocket," he asked curiously, gesturing faintly with a hand to the structure they were standing in.

Cid was mildly surprised for a second, and then he laughed, amused. He had the feeling this strange bunch of weirdoes had been asking around town and someone had mentioned his name. "Not bad for a kid," he said, and fixed Cloud with his own blue eyes. "Alright, I'll explain it yer." Cid ruffled the back of his own blond hair, trying to figure where to start and how. "You know Shinra developed a lot of technological gadgets durin' the meaningless war, right? Now it's a Mako company, but in the old days it was a weapons manufacturer…"

As the younger blond nodded in attention, Cid noticed the red-eyed man shift, his gaze seemingly more intense than when he walked in. Something he's said had caught those cold eyes' interest.

"Well, they came up with a rocket engine," the pilot continued, directing his eyes to nowhere in specific. "There was so much excitement about the thought of goin' into outer space…" He smiled vaguely, recalling some past memories and feelings. "Our dreams got bigger and bigger... They put a major budget into it and made prototype after prototype. Finally, they completed Shinra No. 26… They chose the best pilot in the Shinra – no – in the world: Me." Cid paused and turned to the wall, resting his forearm on the plating. He sighed. "And finally we get to the day of the launch. Everythin' was going well…" He stopped again, letting the quiet dominate the little hall as his memories bubbled back to the surface. As did the emotions. He lashed out and kicked the wall by way of anger, though it did nothing to curb his simmering resentment. "But because of that dumb-ass Shera, the launch got messed up. That's why they became so anal!" He turned back to the trio. "And so, Shinra nixed their outer space exploration plans… After they told me the future was space exploration, and got my damn hopes up… Damn them!" The pilot shook his head, his brow knitted together in a painful loss and bitter feelings. He looked away again. "It was all over once they found out that Mako energy was profitable. They didn't even so much look at space exploration. Money! My dream was just a financial number for them!" He threw his arms up, looking at the hall around them. "Look at this busted rocket. I was supposed to be the first man into space with this." He lowered his gaze and shook his head again. "Every day it tilts a little more. At this rate I dunno which will come first, this thing falling down or me getting' outta here…" His shoulders slumped as the anger dwindled away. "My last hope is to talk to the President…"

"Is Rufus coming?" The kid asked.

Cid looked back at him, an energy in his eyes that wasn't there a minute ago. "Yeah. It must be news about restarting the space program. A young President. He must have dreams, too…" Cid swallowed to moisten his throat and looked over at the small group. He didn't miss that Rufus' name had sparked a strange interest from them.

The blond leader shifted his stance slightly as his vibrant eyes studied the Captain. "Can we… borrow the Tiny Bronco?"

Cid frowned. He hadn't expected that. He recoiled irritably and shook his head. "You outta your fuckin' mind? That's my most cherished possession. I can't let you take it."

The blond kid faltered slightly, lowering his gaze as though he hadn't been expecting a denied request. He looked back at his fellow teammates, lips thinned in disappointment. The young woman tilted her head in response. However, instead of asking him again, the blond kid ordered them out, thanking Cid for his explanation. In a few seconds they were gone.

The Captain stared at the open hatch where they had disappeared, pondering on the odd bunch before turning back to his previous task. But now he had no desire to continue working on it. He pottered about for another few minutes, hoping that the crowd of thoughts in his head would dissipate or at least clear out into a more organized train. They didn't.

He kicked the plating again.

/

He found himself outside a few minutes later, gazing up at the bright blue sky from the walkway against the rocket. A large bird flew overhead, cawing once before disappearing into the forest that surrounded the town. Cid sighed, plucked out his cigarette and crushed it beneath his boot. He walked away from the sealed hatch of his rocket and climbed down the thick, metal ladders to the ground, dropping nimbly the last few steps. He made his way back into town, feeling slightly uneasy for some reason.

"Hey, Captain," one of the townspeople called. A middle-aged man with a jacket similar to Cid's. "Got some newcomers in the village."

"Yeah, I know," Cid answered. "Wanted to take the Tiny Bronco. Can you believe 'em?"

The man, who knew the value of the plane to the pilot, shook his head and smiled. "Not a chance..." He said, more to himself.

"Where'd they go? They leave?"

"No. I think Shera's entertaining them right now."

Cid merely huffed and dug his hands in his pockets, wishing the President would arrive soon. The waiting was sinking him lower and lower into a foul mood. He stormed to his house across the quaint streets and promptly kicked open the garden gate, making his way to the front door. He jerked it open and saw that Shera was indeed playing host to their guests. Except she was obviously doing it badly.

"Shera, what're you? Blind? We got guests – get some tea!"

The woman faltered under his volume and nodded. "I… I'm sorry." She turned around and busied herself with the task, clinking cups and utensils in her haste to mend her error.

From the corner of his eye Cid saw the blond kid shifted on his feet, and he met his striking blue gaze challengingly.

"Really… don't mind us," the kid said a little sardonically, his flawless face creased in the fairest of frowns at Cid's treatment towards Shera.

"Shut up," Cid waved his hands dismissively, in no mood to start arguing with him. He realized all three of his 'guests' were standing. "Sit yer asses down and drink yer goddamn tea." They had barely begun to move towards the table before the pilot growled and threw out his hands impatiently. "Damn, I'm pissed off," he spat suddenly, to no one but himself. He turned away from the table and made towards the hallway behind the dark, red-clad man, unable to stand still. "Shera, I'll be in the back yard tunin' up the Tiny Bronco," he announced, none too gently. "Make sure to serve 'em tea." He left them, exiting the kitchen by means of the backdoor into the garden.

Garden was too general a term for the plot of land behind his house. Being the town's everything-man had granted Cid with the privilege of extending his territory however far he wanted. He hadn't needed more than a couple of acres for his work, and thus the garden was actually more like an outdoor workshop or storage pen. Bits of planes, engines and all manner of machinery laid about in a seemingly chaotic order. But Cid had his system, and he knew where everything was.

"Fuckin' hate waiting," he grumbled to himself as he stormed over to his beloved plane, which sat patiently on her own at the end of the garden. He hoisted himself effortlessly into the pilot seat and flicked back a few switches, turning on the reading gauge. The board lit up and displayed a series of systems that Cid checked through, working silently and more calmly. He paused in his work for a second to wonder about the guests in his house. He wasn't usually as rude as he had been, and had it been any other day he would have welcomed newcomers into the town (provided they behaved, Cid hated troublemakers). But he doubted he was the only bad-tempered individual they'd encountered, so he wasn't exactly going to let it weigh on his conscience.

Sighing, Cid looked back at his house, feeling suddenly empty inside. This was his last chance to do something with his life… something big. He had no goal save for this. He felt like his very breath belonged to this day, and depending on the outcome, he could either regain it… or suffocate.

He jumped down more composedly to the ground and shoved his hands in his pockets, shuffling back to the door. He didn't know what to do with himself, hence his ever-moving position.

Once inside again, he moved towards the table, unwittingly catching the eyes of the dark, mysterious man leant against the far wall. They glinted a deep, rare crimson, and although Cid broke their gaze as he slouched into one of the kitchen table chairs, his mind remained focused on that pair of blood-red eyes. They seemed haunted and full of hate – two emotions that rarely resulted in good.

"Hurry up and sit down," he barked to the trio of weirdos still stood in his kitchen. "Or ain't my hospitality good enough for you?"

They slowly obeyed, hesitant to make him shout again, and he sensed more than saw (as he was staring intently at the kettle, willing it to boil) who sat where. The leader was seated opposite him, regarding him warily as the girl, he felt, swapped her eyes back and forth between them both. His new resident vampire remained standing, but had stepped away from the wall as though he had only been able to make it that far to a seat. Cid couldn't care less. Sitting still was not doing him any favors. Energy and anxiety boiled inside, and he was reminded how much he hated waiting.

"They're late," he grumbled, a little quieter than before and to no one in particular. "Where the hell is Rufus…?" He threw a foot onto the table and remained seething mildly in silence. No one said anything.

Thankfully, the tension was broken as the door opened, gaining everyone's attention, and causing the red-clad man to drop a hand readily to his thigh, where, Cid would notice later, a rather large gun was strapped.

"Hey-hey, long time no see," the newcomer sneered. He was a fat man, round but disdainful. His terrible sense of fashion did his shapely form no good, but he wasn't a man to worry about such things. "So, Cid, how've you been?" The man asked, with no discernable interest of Cid's wellbeing in his tone.

Cid hauled himself to his feet and planted his hands below his hips, throwing the man a glare. "Well, if it ain't fat-man Palmer," he growled. "How long were you figurin' on keepin' me waitin'?" He balled his hands loosely and strode up to Palmer, looking down on the slightly shorter man. "So? When's the space program gonna start up again?" Straight to the point.

Palmer shrugged, looking completely unaffected by Cid's irritable attitude. Either he was confident or just stupid. "I don't know. The President's outside, why don't you ask him?" There was a teasing air about his tone that pissed Cid off even more.

"Good for nothin' fat fuck," Cid griped as he pushed past Palmer and out the kitchen into the front garden. The door slammed behind him and he strode over to the gate. It was as he was kicking it open did he notice the streets had been cleared of anyone and everyone. This was because Rufus Shinra, the arrogant bastard, stood quite calmly and patiently outside Cid's home, waiting for the pilot to receive Palmer's message.

"Mr. Highwind," Rufus drawled, his face an image of bought confidence, wealth and something else Cid didn't like. "Long time. How have you been?"

Not one for pleasantries, Cid ignored that – being perhaps one of the few civilians left on the planet with the balls to do so. "You plannin' on startin' up the space program?" He enquired, and although he tried to omit it, there was a shining tone of hope in his voice.

Rufus inclined his chin slightly as he looked back at the pilot. "Whatever made you think that, Mr. Highwind?" Gone was the false politeness. He was mocking… he had known Cid would associate his visit with the space program.

Cid's heart took a nosedive into the raging ravine now churning inside him. He couldn't help his face falling either. "That fact that yer here at all," he answered loudly, regaining his attitude.

Rufus smiled in what Cid assumed to be apologetic, but this President obviously hadn't had time to perfect that particular mask. "You should not assume, Mr. Highwind…" He was playing with him for kicks.

Cid gritted his teeth and glared. "What the – you got my hopes up for nothin'? Then what the hell're yer here for?" He demanded, his temper quickly rising and his heart slowly breaking.

"I want to borrow the Tiny Bronco," Rufus explained, as though it was the most obvious reason for the President's arrival in Rocket Town. "We're going after Sephiroth, but it seems we've been going in the wrong direction… Now we have to cross the ocean, and we need your plane to do that."

Cid's slowly cracking heart suddenly jerked a little and a piece fell off. "Shit! First the airship, then the rocket, and now the Tiny Bronco? Shinra took space away from me, and now yer wanna take the skies away, too?" He balled his fists, restraining the urge to blow up and knock some reasoning into the slightly younger man. His outbursts were exaggerated more so than normal today.

Rufus's blond eyebrows raised elegantly above his green eyes. "Oh my, you seem to forget it was because of Shinra Inc that you were able to fly in the first place."

"What?"

The President smiled again, and Cid realized it was the expression of someone who had and would always get their way. "Your exceptional skills as a pilot and plane engineer were all thanks to Shinra Inc. My father was very lenient in allowing you to keep the Tiny Bronco after you constructed it, despite it and yourself belonging to Shinra."

"The fuck?" Cid was too angry by now to form intelligible sentences. It was a miracle he had not started a fight. The guards surrounding Rufus seemed to sense his building aggression and tensed visibly where they stood.

"I can ban you from the skies, Mr. Highwind," Rufus loosely clasped his hands behind his back. "Or you can lend me the plane," he added with a finality in his tone that suggested his latter option was actually his only choice.

For once the words were not there to shout. His heart – currently still in pieces – was beating frantically against his ribcage as he considered losing his beloved ship to the arrogant prick before him. 'Borrow' was not a term Shinra understood, and everyone knew the Tiny Bronco would never be returned. It was easy to construct another plane, but the sentimental value of the Tiny Bronco was too dear to Cid. His town understood – why couldn't Rufus?

"We'll be heading out to the Temple of Ancients," Rufus continued airily, as though he had secured the plane already, turning to his guards and about to order them to get it. Cid began to feel cold inside, knowing he could argue all he wanted, but he wasn't in a position to win anything here…

The sky was suddenly filled with the rapidly growing sounds of an engine, and Cid turned sharply to watch his plane rise from his back garden. Despite the surprise and despite the situation, he marveled by how she glided around against the bright blue sky and began to move towards his current position. Snapping himself from his trance, he glanced quickly at Rufus, who was open-mouthed in his hypnotic watch of the plane – as were all of his guards.

Cid ran. He estimated the plane's trajectory and sped up, acting on some spur of the moment impulse. Just as predicted it soared over his head like a huge bird of prey, casting him in shadow. He leapt, successfully gaining a hold of the tail, feet dangling as the plane ascended into the sky. Cid's heart was in his mouth, but the exhilaration of the sudden turn of events left him feeling incredibly energized.

A bullet whipped by his head. Cid's blue eyes found a small, smoking hole in the peach color of the plane's tail.

And then it hailed bullets.

The pilot snapped his neck back to look. Shinra had ordered his guards to fire on the plane – a surge of hatred boiled through Cid's blood. It seemed if Rufus couldn't have the plane then no one could.

A bullet snapped at his hand – the abrupt sensation loosened his grip and he was almost wrenched from the plane by his one good hand. How he didn't get shot further was a miracle, but a second later something red fluttered over his head throwing him in shadow, obscuring the sun from view. He looked up in wonder to find the red-clad man reaching for him; his cape billowing madly from the air stream, overshadowing them like a looming monster about to strike. Cid jerked his injured hand back up and grabbed the man's wrist, ignoring the sting of pain. He prepared to claw his way up with the help of his plane-jacking helper, but he found himself being hauled onto the plane like he was nothing more than a rag doll. He stumbled only slightly, and blinked in surprise as he stared at the stranger. The man looked too thin to contain such strength, but the matter was quickly swept from his mind as a loud bang erupted. He turned sharply to find his plane smoking at the rear, and realized with a jolt that the bullets had tore off the tail wing, disrupting the planes aerodynamics.

"Shit!" Cid snarled. "The tail's been hit!" He yelled over the noise of the wind bombarding them.

"Emergency landing –" the blond kid shouted vaguely.

Cid anchored himself to the plane. "This's gonna be a big splash – hold on to yer pants and don't piss in 'em!"

Beside him, the red-clad man braced himself, and to Cid's further horror, sunk a gauntlet full of talons into his broken baby's body frame. His cry was lost under the explosion of water as they impacted painfully into the sea. Salty water flew up in a grand wall either side of them before dropping heavily and splashing the group with cold, white spray. Cid was thrown forward, as was the red-eyed man – who left agonizingly deep gouges in the paintwork (and his heart) as he went. The plane almost top-sided, but her lighter rear hadn't enough momentum to overthrow the front, and she flopped back into the sea, lulling in the affected waves.

The blond kid gathered his feet first before the girl. They flung the excess water from their hands and looked back at the land, gazing at the distant shape of Rocket Town. No one had followed them. They were safe for now.

Cid, feeling dried of all hope, having had more downfalls in the past ten minutes than he had in his life, remained lying on the wing of his plane, staring listlessly at the water mere inches from his face. He rubbed a gloved hand soothingly along the wing, wishing events could have turned out a little better, but glad that he at least still had her. He heard the others shifting about.

"She won't fly anymore," he said, surprised by how calm his tone was. He felt his damp clothes pressing onto his skin, but hadn't the energy to care. Would Rufus take away the sky from him? Would he be allowed to keep the Tiny Bronco away from Shinra? He felt numb for a few seconds, blissfully numb as he stared at the shining water, reflecting the sun and his own blond hair.

"Can we use it as a boat?" The other blond asked, casting his unnaturally blue eyes to the land miles away.

"Do whatever you want."

There was a pause. "Cid, what are you going do now?"

He thought about it for a second, and realized there was nothing for Cid to do now. "Dunno," he said lifelessly. "I'm history with Shinra now… and I've given up on the town."

The girl stepped a little closer. "What about your wife? What about Shera?"

Cid jerked his head negatively. "Wife? Don't make me laugh! Just thinkin' about marryin' her gives me the chills." He twisted and looked back at them, noticing the faint concern in their expressions. They actually seem to care about him. The red-clad man was sat with his back to them. No expression there. "What're you guys gonna do?" Cid asked, curious about the nature of their group. Why had they wanted the Tiny Bronco? "And who are you guys?"

The blond kid smiled a little, something that Cid figured was a rare feature on the younger man's face. "My name's Cloud." He looked at the girl beside him. "This is Tifa. And that – " he directed his eyes to the other man. "Is Vincent." Cid gave a nod of acknowledgment. "We're going after a man named Sephiroth."

Cid, like everyone, knew who and what Sephiroth was. "Rufus is, too," he explained as he got to his feet. The plane rocked slightly.

Cloud gave the slightest incline of his chin. "We'll get Rufus of the Shinra someday, too…"

Had Cid heard that statement yesterday he would have scoffed at such words. But there was something deadly serious about Cloud's tone. He was committed to something, and he would see it done. Somehow Cid knew this blond kid was quite capable of accomplishing that.

The Captain folded his arms loosely and regarded the man and woman with an indecisive look. "Well, I dunno about any of that, but… what the hell," he exclaimed, uncrossing his arms and giving them his charming, roguish grin. "Sign me up." There was an opportunity here for him, a new goal. Gone was his hope of Space, but in its stead was a journey… and something about it, hidden under the simple context, sparked his interest.

Cloud gave a nod and that glimmer of a smile. He looked over his shoulder. "How about it, everyone?"

Tifa smiled fully at him, placing her hands on her hips in an open expression. "Of course. Welcome to the team, Cid." She had a lovely, youthful voice that radiated warmth and friendship. More enthusiastic than that of her male friend.

Grateful for the acceptance, and glad for the new distraction, Cid's grin twitched wider and he glanced at the only silent member of the group.

As though he had sensed the gaze on his back, Vincent said, "Do whatever you wish." His tone was cold. He had a deep, whispery voice with no real emotion.

Glancing back to Cloud with questioning eyebrows raised, he dropped his attention of the silent man in favor of a more pressing matter. "So where're we headin'?" He shifted his weight casually onto one hip and folded his arms again. "Rufus was goin' after Sephiroth towards the Temple of the Ancients."

Cloud looked surprised. His eyebrows rose slightly above his large eyes in this important news. "The Temple of the Ancients? Where is it?"

Cid shrugged. "No clue, but Rufus was tellin' me he was headin' in the wrong direction."

The younger blond looked pensive for a moment, letting his vibrant blues eyes drift off focus. Cid wanted to ask about those eyes… Was he from Soldier? What about the red-eyed man… was he from Soldier, too? And why were his eyes red? Cid wasn't one to show interest in anyone, but he hadn't really encountered someone that piqued his interest as much before…

"Let's just get to land, and get some information," Cloud said after a second of silence. "We need to rendezvous with the others." He gazed at the land in the distance, busy in a train of thoughts.

Cid was about to ask him about 'the others' but Cloud spoke again, in a voice to no one in particular.

"Temple of Ancients… that name bothers me…"

/