Notes: I started this a few years back but never finished it until recently. Once I started writing it again, though, I didn't want to stop :P But I did anyway, and there's a few things that need to be noted beforehand so that people don't go "huh?".
It started with a simple question: What happens to Vincent's warderobe when he breaks his limit. But it kinda moved away from that. The story is based rather loosely on your basic Seph/Zack/Cloud threesome, as well as the Vincent/Cid pairing from "canon" based on the night in Golden Saucer. As well, one concept I worked out for myself is that "Mako eyes" are not like normal eyes. The surface of the eye has actually warped and changed, allowing the mako-ness to glow through. Does it change the way a person sees? Who knows.
The formatting also is less-than-perfect. I hope it's not too confusing.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: Standard "I don't own the characters, Square does". Square ownz. This all a bit of fun.
Out of the corner of his eye, Cloud saw Vincent release the clasps on his cloak, which slid to the ground. 'Limit already?!' he thought to himself in the corner of his mind that wasn't completely occupied by the fight. 'He just had one...' Of course, Vincent had been having a run of bad luck lately; he'd been picked on by every monster who just had to cross their path. It seemed to Cloud that he and Cid had spent more time healing Vincent than actually fighting.
Vincent waited until the opportunity presented itself. A lull in the battle, and he dropped the last article of clothing, shifting shape just barely before the material had a chance to slide away from his body. Cloud sighed as beast-Vincent attacked ruthlessly. Two limits so close to each other was sure to make him tired.
Afterwards, Vincent lay on his side, seemingly asleep. Maybe he was. Cloud didn't want to wake him just yet. He draped the discarded red cloak over his nude body before joining Cid in disposing of the corpses, ignoring Cid's long rambles of curses and how the #(&! was he going to get the blood stains out of his shirt THIS time?
"We better rest here for the night," Cid suggested, puffing on a victory smoke and eyeing Vincent with more than a little caution. "And you can wake him up. One day it'll be my throat caught in that #&Q(& claw, and all 'cause he woke up on the wrong side of the bed." With that, he turned and walked a little ways from the battle site to start pitching the tent.
"Thanks," Cloud muttered, crouching next to Vincent and shaking his shoulder. "Hey, wake up," he started softly, with no response. 'What about if it's MY throat..?' he couldn't help but wonder, before blocking the thought out. That was no way to think.
After a couple more tries, Cloud gave up. Well, Vincent needed the rest anyway. He sighed and gathered up the remaining clothing, folding them as only a solider would and laying them in a neat pile near Vincent. Then he bent to gather the other man in his arms. For all that he was taller than him, he sure didn't weigh a hell of a lot. Cloud was only a little surprised. The few times he'd happened to catch Vincent undressing -- and only once wasn't for a limit break -- the other man was easily as skinny as he was, if not more. Cloud placed the folded clothing in places where they wouldn't fall, and rose to his feet, Vincent cradled almost tenderly in his arms. (Truth be told, he didn't want first-hand experience on how sharp the fingers on his claw really were.) Back at the campsite, Cid was having trouble with the poles, cursing loudly. The curses dropped to mutters when Cloud got there, who put Vincent down and together the tent went up more smoothly.
"#) showoff.." Cid muttered, but he grinned at Cloud to show that he didn't mean it. Cloud returned it with a tiny smile of his own to show that he didn't take offence, and gathered Vincent once more, ducking into the the tent where he laid him down and put a blanket or two over him.
The sun sank below the horizon all too soon, Meteor chasing it long into twilight until only a faint red glow lingered. Cid started their meal in the metal cooking tin while Cloud built a fire. They waited and ate in silence as even the red glow disappeared and the stars came out. Cid reserved some of the rice-and-bean mixture in the tin, burying it in the ashes of the fire to keep it hot. Nearby, some crickets chirped hesitantly, and the tension drained from the air. Crickets wouldn't chirp if there was danger nearby.
Cid stretched and yawned. "You OK with first watch?" he asked, though it wasn't really a question.
He really would have preferred a different watch, but there was no point in arguing. Cloud nodded. "Yes." Cid gave a short jerk of his head and disappeared back into the tent. Before too long, his snores filled the air around them, which didn't disturb the crickets in the least. The hours ticked by.
Cloud wished he had someone to talk to. It was a beautiful night. You couldn't see Meteor at night, so there was a perfect view of the stars. He could remember many moon-lit nights like this, star-gazing and talking with Zack. Nevermind the fact that these conversations almost always ended up in something other than talking... He sighed. Best not to think of that now.
Behind him, there was a whisper of sound as the tent opened. Cloud glanced over his shoulder, even though he knew who it was. Cid hadn't stopped snoring yet. "You're awake." The blindingly obvious. What a stupid thing to say.
Vincent nodded. "I -- couldn't sleep anymore," he replied, soft-spoken as always as he folded himself down to sit next to Cloud. The slight hesitation was not lost on him, nor was the slight trembling of his body. Vincent pulled his cloak closer, as though cold, but the night was warm; Cloud hadn't needed anything over his own sleeveless shirt. He didn't say anything, or press the topic. Let him think he was actually fooling someone.
They sat in silence for a long time, the tranquility of the night broken only by Cid's snoring. Cloud wondered, not for the first time, why the snoring didn't attract more monsters. After a few minutes of mindless pondering, he decided that they found it as nerve-grating as he did and stayed far away from it. He smiled a little to himself. Maybe they should try to keep Cid sleeping and never have to fight another monster again.
Vincent shifted a little. Cloud finally realized he should have said something sooner. "Are you hungry?" he asked, rousing himself to dig the metal cooking container out of the dying fire, which still held the last of their supper. "Cid cooked; not me, so it's edible at least." A long-standing joke about his culinary skills, which he had to admit were less than stellar.
"N -- a little," Vincent admitted, interrupted by an embarrasing grumble from his stomach. Cheeks coloured slightly, his good hand appeared from underneath the heavy cloak to take the container from Cloud. "Thank you."
Cloud shrugged as if to say 'Don't mention it'. His fingers burned where they had brushed against Vincent's, but he just put it down to the heat of the container's handle. He noticed that Vincent had quickly put it down in his claw, where the heat radiating off the metal wouldn't make a whit of difference. He turned his attention back to the stars overhead, knowing that the prosthetic wasn't exactly a favourite topic he liked to draw attention to.
His mind wandered. Cid's snores kept most of the monsters away, so he didn't feel as bad about letting his guard down a little. At first, he'd thought that Vincent had looked a lot like a cross between Zack and Sephiroth -- Zack's hair colour and length with a bit more of Sephiroth's style. The image had been disconcerting, and he knew he'd been rather cold to Vincent because of it. Not that the other man had been all friendship and sunshine either. But after Cloud had come out of the Lifestream in Mideel, Vincent had almost seemed to warm up to him a little. At least he was making some sort of (tiny) effort to be a little more open to Cloud.. as though he was offering sympathy or something. That made Cloud shiver lightly. He didn't want sympathy... But Vincent was the only one who could possibly understand. Aerith and Red hadn't really suffered at Hojo's hands like that. Still.... There were times when Cloud swore that Vincent's face would break if he even thought about smiling. Then there were others, much rarer, that it was the only thing he wanted to see. Vincent always looked so serious...
Cid's snores deepened and broke off abruptly, drawing Cloud's attention back to the present. He glanced back at the tent as the other blond shifted inside and resumed snoring. Cloud shook his head, and smiled to himself.
"It's amazing that anyone could get to sleep around him," Vincent commented, almost off-handedly. The comment made Cloud smile a little more, since the only people around were them, and they were both awake.
"And Barrett always wondered why I insisted on taking shift after Cid or while he's sleeping," Cloud replied, poking at the fire to get a little more life out of it before gazing back up at the stars. "It's not so bad when you're already awake."
"Not that Barrett's any better."
Cloud laughed a little. Who knew that Vincent had such a sense of humor? He was right, of course. Barrett snored too, just as badly.
His thoughts wandered again. Vincent.. was still an enigma. He knew a little more now, but the man was still a mystery. At least he didn't remind Cloud of Zack and Sephiroth anymore. Vincent was self-reclusive, offering as little information about himself as possible, whereas Zack had been open and friendly, bordering on TOO friendly. Of course, after a point, that hadn't mattered... Cloud shook his head. This was NOT the time to be mourning lost lovers! A whisper of an idea trailed along the lines of how Vincent would react in the place of Zack and/or Sephiroth, causing some rather graphic images to pop into his mind suddenly. Especially of that lovely black hair spilling down an alabaster back and shoulders, unfettered by the bandana...
The images made him jump a little, startling back fully into his body. Vincent looked at him, curiousity in his eyes. Cloud felt his cheeks burn. "Been sitting too long," he said as an explanation, standing and stretching. "I'm going to check the perimeter." He wandered off into the night, at a distance that the fire was roughly half the size it should have been, and Vincent a mere shadow huddled in it's lee. He berated himself for thinking those kinds of things that he had back at the camp. The past was the past. It should be left there.
The Next Day
They reached a town mid-afternoon. After checking with the locals, Cloud decided it would be okay to stay here for a day or two and catch up on some badly needed rest. And a bath. Besides, Barrett and the others would catch up with them by then too. Cid heartily agreed, and as soon as he could, dragged Vincent off to the bar with him. He claimed that the dark-haired man needed to loosen up a little, stop being such a stick in the mud. He offered for Cloud to join them, but the blond turned the offer down.
Cloud was happy to have a few hours to himself. He took their things (painfully light; they'd have to buy more food before they moved on) up to their rooms in the inn. He supposed they only needed one, even if it meant that two of them had to share (he tried to shove away the feeling that it would almost certainly be him who slept alone if that was how it went, too) but the innkeeper had insisted that there was plenty of room, and even gave him a bit of a deal on the second room. Cloud quirked a little smile. It was probably the SOLIDER uniform that did it. And the Mako eyes, he added, catching a glimpse of them in the dim hallway from a mirror hanging behind an artful display of flowers. They belonged to him, yet he never failed to be surprised by them. Well either way, the last few campaigns had been fruitful ones, they had plenty of coin.
The packs went into a corner of the room where any potential theives would have to go through him first to get to them. He didn't like carrying so much of their gear -- useless to most people, but he was pretty sure that someone would be willing to buy their weapons if the price was right, and their materia -- and most of their cash in one place, but Cid had had a point that theives would be more present in a bar. It was perfectly logical; with a little thought, he couldn't help but agree.
A serving girl brough him a meal, and when asked, a basin and water for washing. She asked if he needed anything else, and her uniform was of the kind that suggested what that "anything else" usually was. But she wouldn't look him in the eye, and her body language radiated a desire to be away from here. He refused, gently, and closed the door. No doubt she would find someone else less intimidating who would need "something else".
Once he'd eaten and washed (it felt so GOOD to be clean again; his hair no longer felt like it should have been growing greenery), he spent some time cleaning his weapon and clothing. The hours once again passed. He found himself wishing to be outside again, with just the three of them, and the stars. Being inside made him feel... trapped. He opened a window and looked outside, but could see nothing but a few bright spots of light in the velvet sky. Nothing like the carpet of diamonds nature showed you away from civilization. He sighed and closed it again, flopping onto one of the beds. Well he might as well get some rest, not knowing when Vincent or Cid would make it back, and doubly sure he didn't want to know when. The bed was stuffed with straw, but it beat the plain ground they slept on most of the time.
No sir, the life of a mercenary was not an easy one. His thoughts were unsettled as he drifted into a restless sleep.
He woke instantly when the door opened. Every muscle tightened, ready to act if he had to.
"Cloud?" It was Vincent. He was surprised; he'd fully expected to have the room to himself, that Vincent would share the other with Cid. And maybe more than the room; he'd wanted to be asleep before they came up. If the noises he'd heard that night at the Golden Saucer, so long ago... were any indication, he did NOT want to be awake. That had caused enough problems then as it was. "Are you awake?" Vincent was saying, sounding pitious (sp?). "It's really important.. I don't remember where the bathroom is. I don't feel so good."
That was more words than Cloud had ever heard Vincent say in one shot, but he didn't have time to dwell on that. He got up faster than he had in a long time, barely pausing to pull his pants on before wrapping one arm around a very wobbly, barely-standing Vincent who reeked of alcohol, and all but dragged the taller man down to the public bathroom. Just in time; he'd no sooner gotten him there and down just in case he WAS sick, when he started throwing up. Cloud sighed to himself, carefully gathering Vincent's hair in his hands and pulling it away from the other man's face so he didn't get it messier than tolerable.
It was a long time before Vincent finished, or thought he was finished enough to go back to the room and not mess up the sheets. Cloud could tell that Vincent rarely drank, let alone got drunk. Not surprising really. He'd only been out for how long? After being locked up for HOW long? All he could do was see that he didn't fall and break his neck.
They made it back to the room, one careful step at a time, Vincent moaning the entire time about how he was going to die. Cloud did his best to reassure the taller man, but it didn't seem to be working all that well. It was forever and a day before they reached the room, where he guided Vincent to the other bed and got him laying down. Vincent moaned wordlessly but let Cloud undress him. Cloud tried so very hard not to look as he got the taller man down to the skin, and pulled the blankets up over his thin body as soon as he could.
Damnit, why was he feeling like this? It wasn't like he'd seen Vincent undressed before, even though it almost always WAS about 3 seconds before he shifted shape. Damn, that was a creepy sight too. But irrelevant. Vincent was far from unattractive... And now that he knew him a little better (which wasn't saying a hell of a lot), he didn't remind Cloud so much of a past he'd rather not think about. Now, when he looked at Vincent, he saw Vincent, not some bastardized merging of Zack and Sephiroth...
Before the next circle of thought could start, Vincent grabbed his arm with surprising strength for someone who'd just had to be helped into bed. Cloud looked down, immensely relieved that it was the normal hand that was wrapped around his arm. He gulped to think of the alternative, but raised calm eyes to meet Vincent's in the dim lighting that filtered in from the hallway.
Another forever passed. Cloud knew his eyes glowed a little in the dark, thanks to Mako, so Vincent should have had no problem finding him at all, even drunk as he was. He just got ... lost... in that forever. How long had it been since he could watch someone like this, and not wonder if they wanted to tear his throat out? Too long... Vincent moved a little, lifting his arm. He realized, too late, that the good hand was still clamped around his arm.
He jerked away as he barely felt the claws start to graze over the flesh of his cheek, trying not to wince when the tip of one dug in a little. Cloud reclaimed his arm, a bit more forcefully than was really needed, putting his hand against the injury as he backed away from the bed. Vincent tried to sit up, more than a little bewildered -- you could just tell it in the emotion radiating off of him. Then he realized what had happened, and fell back into bed. "I..." His voice was just a tiny sound, barely audible. If he finished the sentence, Cloud didn't know. Vincent had turned onto his side, away from him, curling up as tightly as he could and blocking everything out.
Cloud wished he could say something.. But Vincent had closed himself off again. The air was so thick with that walling up that he could practically taste it. And it tasted bad. The cut didn't feel too bad; a little blood and torn skin, but nothing life-threatening or scarring. He should clean it anyway.. Just in case. He didn't want to leave Vincent alone but... Common-sense nagged. He sighed, silently, and left to clean it up.
By the time he got back, Vincent was sleeping. Normally, he couldn't tell when Vincent was sleeping, but now, the older man was snoring -- lightly, but snoring. Nothing near Cid's (or Barrett's) room-shaking ones.. just a soft, endearing sound...
You moron, he berated himself, frowning as he closed the door and slipped back into his own bed. You're acting like a lovesick fool; knock it off.
Easier said than done. It was a long time before he could finally get to sleep, and then he had fleeting dreams of dark hair he was drowning in, and eyes the colour of blood...
A few days later...
Cloud sighed; it was thoroughly miserable out. He huddled a little farther into the rainslicker, shivering despite the warm lining. It was raining. It hadn't rained much at all, despite the appearance of Meteor, which was supposedly affecting the weather patterns. But now it was raining, and hard. And all he could do was sit out here, huddled in a rainslicker, freezing, and wishing more than anything to be back inside the tent, despite Cid's snoring (which, as usual, seemed to be keeping all the monsters away).
Dinner that night had been cold rations, seeing as they'd only JUST finished getting the tent up when it started to rain. Lightly at first, by the time Cid's watch was over and it was Cloud's turn, it was steady, and getting heavier. He thought he could even hear thunder in the distance, and he felt sorry for Vincent, who would likely be out here when it hit. In that case though, he was sure that neither he or Cid would mind if there wasn't a lookout outside.
Not that he could see anything at night, anyway. It was dark, and the rain didn't help any. He sighed again, digging in his pocket for the food he'd stashed there as a snack. If only he wasn't so dreadfully cold...
The night just dragged on and on. He had no real way of telling how long it was until Vincent's watch started, and his thoughts ran in aimless circles. Wasn't it time for Vincent to come out yet? He sighed. Maybe it wasn't as late as he thought it was. ...How about now?
Knock it off, he berated himself, shifting a little. You're being childish.
Sigh. And how long had it been since he talked to himself like a little kid who had no friends? Bad enough that he really DID have a split... What was that? Cloud sat up a little straighter, certain he'd heard something. He listened hard, but other than the rain, there was nothing...
There it was again! And it was from inside the tent. It sounded like... like someone was afraid. He frowned. And it sure as hell wasn't Cid, who was still snoring loud enough to wake the dead. So that meant.. Vincent...
Never could he remember Vincent sounding like that, not even after passing out and being too sore to move for a week after one paticular monster decided he'd be a good toy. His mind came up with all sorts of ..things.. that would make Vincent whimper, and none of them were pretty. As quickly as he could, Cloud got up and into the tent, barely taking the time to leave the rainslicker at the doorway.
It was dark, but it wasn't hard to find where Vincent lay. Cid was sprawled out, mouth open wide as he slept. They always kept the same arrangement when camping out to keep it simple when switching watches. Stepping over one out-flung arm, Cloud reached Vincent and crouched, wondering what could be wrong. Because at first look, as far as he could tell, nothing WAS wrong. He was just.. sleeping. No bedbugs, or other creepy crawlies, nothing...
Vincent made another soft sound, tossing his head a little. The bandana had come loose on one side, letting just a little more hair spill out. Realization hit Cloud all of a sudden -- Vincent was having a nightmare. Well, that was easy enough. Wake him up, right?
Easier said than done... No one claimed to know how nightmares worked, and Cloud would be the first to admit that he was no expert. At first, he didn't want to do anything. Was it nightmares that killed if you woke the sleeper up, or was it sleepwalkers? He couldn't remember.
"No..." Vincent whimpered, voice trailing off into incoherent mumblings. He shifted restlessly, the blankets tangled hopelessly around his legs. Cloud frowned. He better do something, and soon.
The moment he touched Vincent's shoulder, however, the other man bolted upright, claw flying out and wrapping around Cloud's throat with deadly accuracy. Cloud froze, holding his breath and trying to remain calm. And more than a little amazed that Vincent hadn't just killed him. The two of them sat there like that for a few heartbeats, frozen like statues. Then Vincent "woke up"; those were the only words Cloud could find to describe the look in his eyes. A few more heartbeats passed. Slowly, Vincent opened the claw and dropped it back to the ground.
Cloud let out a shaky breath, and put a hand to his throat. Dimly, he realized that Cid was still snoring. He'd hadn't woken up at all. How had he missed that sound throughout this whole thing? Well, duh. Nearly having one's head snapped off by a comrade wasn't exactly the best event to be noting the background sounds to. "Vincent..."
"I'm sorry." Without another word, Vincent pulled his cloak on and left the tent.
Cloud blinked. What just happened...? He couldn't think. The sound of the rain drumming on the tent entered his concious just seconds before a loud crack of thunder sounded over them. Amazingly, Cid kept on sleeping. 'Does nothing wake him up?'
The rain picked up, pounding down against the tent. Cloud shivered, and gathered up the slicker again, hoping that Vincent wasn't too far. Did people like him get colds? He didn't want to find out. But now that it was a veritable downpour... He couldn't leave him out there without at least a rainslicker.
However, Vincent was nowhere to be seen. Cloud sighed, and closed his eyes, ducking back inside the tent. At this rate, they were never going to make it through this mission.
"Geez, Vinny, what kind of idiot are you?! Runnin' off into a storm like that -- "
"My name isn't 'Vinny'."
Cloud opened his eyes cautiously, as though that simple action would cause them to notice him. Vincent was sitting calmly on his bed, dressed in a spare set of clothing, and wringing out the ones he'd been wearing last night into a small bucket. Cid stood over him, chewing on a cigar, glaring.
"You could catch a cold doin' that!" Cid tried again. "Are you )#% invincible or something?" Vincent didn't answer, shaking the pants out and hanging them on a string suspended between the ends of the tent. Then he picked up one of the towels they carried just in case and started drying his hair. Cid sighed and gave up. "You're a moron, Vinny. Don't blame me if you drop dead from pneumonia one day."
"I don't want your concern," Vincent told him, voice dangerously soft. "I just want to get this over with, and go back to sleep. And my name isn't Vinny."
Cid made a face -- a very unattractive one, Cloud decided, and sat up before another fight could break out. That drew attention to him, at least from Cid. Vincent ignored him, eyes unfocused and staring off into space as he dried his hair. But the look on his face.. Cloud shivered. And those dragons were supposed to turn people to stone.
"Good morning," he said, only realizing afterwards how lame that probably sounded. "Is it still raining out?"
Cid snorted. "A friggin' downpour is what it is. I'll be amazed if this piece of shit doesn't get washed out underneath us."
Cloud sighed to himself, throwing his covers off and stretching. Cid wasn't exactly an optimist to begin with, and it only got worse when he was annoyed.
Cid was watching him intently. "What happened to you?"
"What?" Cloud asked, stupidly. His brain was still sleeping.
"Your neck." He pointed. "What happened?"
Cloud's fingers went to his throat; the marks Vincent's claw had left were very tender, as he barely touched them, and they hurt. "Oh, this..."
"What the hell kinda monster attacks in the middle of the pouring rain and grabs for the throat?" Cid seethed. Cloud winced and wished he'd shut up, even though he knew that the taller man was just burning off steam. "That's a dirty underhanded trick. I hope you kicked the shit out of it. Why didn't you wake me up to join the fun?"
"I did, " Cloud started, eyes darting to Vincent, who looked even more stony now. "It was easy anyway, nothing serious that anyone needed to be woken up for..."
Cid sighed and pointed at Cloud, a stern look on his face. "You're too damn noble. One of these days, you won't call for help, and then you'll die. And where will the rest of us be?"
"I guess you'd just have to go on without me," Cloud replied softly, paying very close attention to the laces on his boots. He knew that wouldn't happen. He knew that if he died, the other's wouldn't be able to go on. Oh, they would try, to finish what he'd started, but they would fail miserably. Did Mako exposure change one's ability to predict the future? He didn't know.. couldn't be sure of anything anymore. Maybe he'd always been prone to disturbing nightmares of the future. All he could be sure of was that he was the glue holding this party together. He sure as hell wished someone else could be... When it came time to fight Sephiroth, he couldn't even be sure that he would be able to face him, let alone ask anyone else to.
"Aren't you listenin' to me?" Cid demanded. Cloud blinked, startled out of his thoughts, and looked up at Cid with a blank expression. Cid sighed. "I didn't think so. I was sayin', we can't stay here too long, so hope that this rain lets up. Even under trees like this, it's no guarantee we won't get washed away."
"I'm sure it will let up before then," Cloud told him.
"Optimistic too. Did I ever tell you -- "
"Excuse me." Vincent's soft voice cut through Cid's words with ease. He hung the towel up with his clothes, and flipped his hair back over his shoulder. "I'm going to sleep now. I would appreciate if you kept it quiet." With that, he lay down, pulled the blankets up, and turned to his side.
Cid snarled silently at Vincent and sat heavily on his own bed, grabbing his lance and started polishing it with a hankerchief, the movements far too rough to be doing any good. Cloud wished he could just leave; he never did handle tension well. But then, at the root of it all, that was the cause of this very day, wasn't it? Running away from the tension at home to join SOLIDER, and eventually... here. A coward.. that's what they'd said.
It was enough to make a person sick.
Cloud lay on his back, one arm draped over his eyes to protect them from the sun. He was laying in just such a way that the sun was behind him, and he was looking straight at Meteor's red glow. His eyes were barely open, so the only thing he could see was that red ball of fiery doom. Normally, he didn't like thinking about Meteor, even though he saw it on a daily basis. To him, it was just a reminder about how he'd failed to stop Sephiroth back then. It only got harder and harder each day to think of that final battle. Even as he got stronger, Sephiroth was getting stronger. Who would be the one to fall to the other...?
A shadow fell over him. Cloud lifted his arm, peering up at the person casting it. It was hard to see against the brightness of the sky, but no one else would wear that kind of clothing... "Lunch is ready," Vincent told him, betraying no emotion at all.
Cloud heaved himself into a sitting position. "I'll be right there," he replied, scratching at an itchy spot on his arm. Vincent turned and walked away without a word. He sighed to himself, looking up at the sky one last time. The tension hadn't eased up at all in the past week. If anything, it'd gotten worse. And it wasn't even all that BAD... he still got along with Cid. Better than before, even. But Vincent might as well have been a statue for all he said. He sighed again, and started walking back to the camp.
Halfway there, a part of his past decided to make itself known. He'd been considering himself lucky, that he hadn't had any new memory fragments fall into place in this last little while. And even was beginning to hope that no new ones were going to surface. As the other ones had, it was accompanied by a pounding in his head, not unlike what he imagined nails felt like, being hit repeatedly with hammers.
The tubes were only large enough for him to place his back against one curved wall of it, and stretch one arm out to touch the opposite wall with his fingertips. Or curl into an awkward fetal ball on the bottom of it, which he usually did after one of those goddamned "treatments". A hands-witdth away was a second tube, the same size, which held a person bigger than he was. He had no such luxury of being able to curl up on the bottom when he wanted to.
Right now, Zack was crouched in his tube, regarding Cloud with a sad, unreadable gaze. "I'm sorry," he said out of the blue, the first words he'd spoken in hours.
"For what?" Cloud asked, fighting nausea. The treatment had been in the morning, but the sickness was never far away, and only seemed to get worse as time progressed in between. But it still didn't compare to the way he felt when that fluid was injected into his bloodstream.
"For getting you into this mess." Zack sighed and dropped his gaze. "I knew you were being considered for this .... experiment. I didn't do anything about it."
Cloud was silent for long moments. His stomach lurched and nearly emptied its contents; he gagged and leaned forward, resting his forehead against the glass. At least, he thought it was glass. It was vaguely cool to the touch, but remained a constant temperature no matter how long he touched it. "Don't worry about it," he finally replied. "Nothing you could have done or said would have kept me from refusing the mission."
"You're too forgiving, Cloud," Zack said, looking up at him with a smile of regret on his lips. His eyes had already warped and shifted, and glowed with the energy of Mako. "I'm afraid that will be your downfall."
He was barely aware of clutching at his head with the pain, staggering and collapsing to the ground. It hurt so much.... Zack....
There was just a little light burning somewhere nearby when he woke up. It wasn't the sun, unless someone had found a way to block off all the light to the same amount that a lamp would produce. Cloud shifted. Lamp, sun... whatever. It hurt his eyes, and he hadn't opened them yet.
A few moments later, he had to open them. There was no choice. His body was complaining - loudly - that there were a few things he needed to attend to. As he sat up, rubbing at his eyes sleepily, the first thing he saw was long, dark hair. Zack...
There had been that brief flash of the tube next to his own in the memory, of a man with long dark hair.. Other memories filted in now, of his face, watching him from behind, other things... Why were they coming back now?
He didn't realize he'd said anything out loud. The owner of the dark hair turned, revealing red eyes, not dark blue. "I'm not Zack, Cloud," Vincent said, brushing his hair back over one shoulder.
Cloud blinked, trying to clear the fog from his mind, that seemed to be affecting his eyes as well. "Oh," he replied, stupidly. "Sorry." He looked around the room, trying to get a sense of where he was. It was definitely a room, not the inside of their tent. "Where are we?"
Vincent hesitated and refused to look at Cloud. "Nibelheim. It was the closest town."
Cloud frowned and thought about it. They'd been at least a day from the nearest town. "And I was asleep the whole time...?"
Vincent nodded, and looked at him again. "Cid said he was going to let you have it when you finally woke up. He complained the whole time that you should weigh less than you do."
Cloud smiled a little bit, but it faded quickly. "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"We tried." Vincent sighed. "Not very hard, admittedly, but..."
"But...."
"You looked like you needed the rest," Vincent finished, once again not meeting his eyes.
"Ah." Cloud didn't know what to make of that. Looked like he'd needed the rest? He just had a memory flashback.. not catch a fever or something. But then.. he HAD slept soundly for at least a day. He should be hungry too... On cue, his stomach growled. Loudly.
Vincent gave him a tiny smile. "There's some food here if you want it." As if he hadn't heard. "Cid decided to eat in the bar, so there's lots."
"Thanks." Cloud stood up, pausing as the room spun a little, and shook his head to clear the disorientation. "But first...." Without explaining, he left the room to find the bathroom.
He hated being in Nibelheim now. It was supposed to have been destroyed. He could still feel the intense heat of the flames on his skin, so hot that there was no smoke, but the smell choked him anyway. Heat so intense his eyes burned and watered... So intense it felt like every breath was his last. Everything had been recreated, but it lacked that worn-in feeling the town had before. Before, it'd been as comfortable as an old shoe. Now, it was a brand-spanking new one, one that hurt to wear because it hadn't been broken in and dug into the back of one's ankle. Everyone was an actor. But with Shinra going down, why did they bother to keep up the pretense? He would he happy when they could finally leave this place, and he wanted to leave as soon as possible.
When he got back, Vincent hadn't moved from his chair, but he'd drawn his legs up to sit in it cross-legged, and was paying special attention to a length of his hair with a comb. Cloud stood in the doorway and just watched him for a moment, realizing that he'd never really seen Vincent care for his hair this way before. Usually, he just tied it back in a long tail and left it at that. They'd never really taken the time to be able to sit down and really pamper themselves before... Of course, Cid had the ultimate hair cut; it was too short to get really messy or anything, and Cloud sometimes pondered cutting off his own hair just so he wouldn't have to do anything with it. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for Vincent, who had that long mane to care for. Sure it looked nice, but was it really worth it? Especially since he didn't seem to really care if he had long hair or short, and rarely ever did anything with it. And everyone who was attracted to it was usually put off by his cool attitude. And why was he standing here in the doorway thinking about hair? A little embarrased that he'd been staring, he crossed the room and dropped into the chair opposite of Vincent's, looking over the food presented simply on a large plate.
"They didn't give us anything else," Vincent told him, almost absently, face drawn in concentration as he picked out a knot. "I didn't want to ask. Everyone here is too... stiff... Like puppets. Just get what you want, and get the hell out."
Cloud sighed, and nodded, reaching to take some bread and cheese from the plate. No butter, no utensils, no extra plates. "I think next time, if I don't have to come back here, I'm not going to."
"This is your hometown, right?"
"Was. This isn't the Nibelheim I grew up in. I don't know this place anymore."
Vincent sighed, still working on the knot in his hair. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"How about you?" Cloud asked a moment later. "Where are you from?"
He shrugged. "I don't remember."
Cloud sighed and ate thoughtfully. "I don't know what's worse. Not remembering where you're from, or having a hometown that's a complete fake."
"The fake is worse," Vincent answered, almost too quickly. "It's an insult to the memories you must have. They should have let it burn and rebuild on it's own if that was it's fate."
Cloud was a little surprised. Who knew Vincent was such a philosopher? "But it wasn't just that... No one survived... They're all fakes too..." He shivered, wishing that he could just forget those memories. His own experimentation really wasn't that bad, but all the other failed ones here had to wear dark robes... Was that because they wre so disfigured, light-sensitive, or just reclusive? He found himself looking at Vincent, who had also been an experiment, but didn't look as worse for wear...
"Cloud? Are you listening to me?"
"Hmm?" Cloud blinked, startled out of his thoughts. "I was thinking..."
"I was saying, what are you going to do if you ever find Hojo?"
Cloud narrowed his eyes a little. Vincent said that far too calmly. The only reason he'd even joined the mission was on the condition that they would eventually find Hojo. There had to be more bitter feelings for the mad scientist than... calmness. "I don't know." He shrugged, taking a bit more to eat. "Maybe I'll just hit him over the head, bag him up and drop him in the ocean. In shark-infested waters."
Vincent gave him an odd look, and even stopped brushing out his hair to regard Cloud like he'd finally lost it.
Cloud smiled at him. "Gotcha. Kick his ass, of course. You think I'd let someone like him live?" The smile faded as his thoughts wandered all too easily to those memories again. Hojo's face flitted briefly across the surface of his mind, leering eyes and greasy hair, and a big fat blemish there on the point of his chin.
"No. I didn't expect anything less..." Vincent sighed very softly and gathered more of his hair over his shoulder, running the comb through all of it.
Cloud wanted to let the subject drop. He was curious about Vincent's past as well, but the golden (very sharp) claw that was holding his hair made the questions die before they even started on the way to his mouth. His hair.. it was so black against the claw. And his hand, which he'd taken the half-glove off of, so it was like pure-white against the jet-black and gold. "Don't you get tired of it?" he asked suddenly. At Vincent's blank look, he added, "Taking care of hair that long, I mean. Isn't it hard?"
One corner of Vincent's lips twitched up in a smile. "Very."
"Don't you ever want to just hack it all off...?"
"Sometimes..." Vincent looked down at the raven strands in his hand. "I had short hair as a Turk. I just don't think it suits me anymore." Then he shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose I could get it cut short again. But... I don't like who I was back then either."
"I'm sorry.. I shouldn't have asked. I just wondered..."
"It's alright." Vincent smiled a little at him again. After a few more minutes of silence, he glanced up at Cloud and asked, "How's your throat?"
"My throat?" Cloud was caught off-guard by the carefully moderated casualness in Vincent's voice, one hand going to his throat. One finger just barely touched the slightly red scab on one of the marks Vincent's claw had left. "Oh, that.... You can't even see the marks anymore." He shrugged. It wasn't quite true; all of them had left tiny little lines, which had scabbed over and mostly fallen off, even. Nothing serious. But you couldn't see the marks since they were hidden by his turtleneck most of the time, and they were faint to begin with.
"I really am sorry about that... I was having a nightmare.. about him...."
"You don't have to explain. Everyone has their demons." 'One of mine just happens to have hair like yours...'
"Finally finished," Vincent declared, changing the subject eagerly as he put his hair back over his shoulder. "All untangled and smooth. For once. Maybe I SHOULD cut it off."
"How long have we been here?" Cloud asked, pushing the plate away from him. He wasn't hungry anymore.
"Mmm... Since late-afternoon. It's past sun-down now." Vincent made a wry face. "Cid's over at the bar, in case you're wondering. I wonder what his wife would think of him drinking at every town and hitting on every girl who looks old enough to be in there."
"I don't think they're married," Cloud replied, eyes going thoughtful. "Cid and Shera, I mean. That's not what I got from Shera..."
"Well, whatever." Vincent sighed, reaching over to pick up some of the food left on the plate. "I don't think thats how someone in a committed relationship should act, that's all."
"Why do you even care?" Cloud asked suddenly, narrowing his eyes at the dark-haired man. "You're almost acting jealous."
Vincent gave him a stunned look. "What...?"
"You are. You're acting like a jealous lover." The blond blinked as soon as the words left his mouth. Where did THAT come from? Who was the jealous lover here...? 'Would-be lover,' a voice in the back of his mind whispered, and he paled. "I'm sorry," he added in a hurry, before Vincent could say anything. "That was totally uncalled for..." 'Oh, good job, hero. Add another fuxk-up to the list.'
Vincent sighed. "Well.. I suppose it's not exactly a secret." He traced an invisible circle on the tabletop with one finger. "It must have meant more to me than him...."
Cloud didn't know what to say. I'm sorry? No, that was pathetic. I wish it was me..? NO!! Even worse!!!
"Listen to me," Vincent went on, smiling a little too brightly. "Like some lovesick teenager."
Still at a loss for words, Cloud didn't reply. He studied Vincent thoughtfully, who'd let his head fall a little to let his hair obscure his face. 'He's... no he can't be.' Was it THAT serious? He had no idea. 'Do it...' Chair scraping noisily against the floor, he stood up and moved around the table, tipping Vincent's face up and kissing him softly.
The other man didn't respond. Cloud pulled away after a few moments, though he didn't move very far, and his hands stayed put on Vincent's jaw. He'd closed his eyes at least, and opened them when Cloud pulled away. The red of his irises was dark with confusion and something else that Cloud couldn't quite read.
"You don't know what you're asking, Cloud," Vincent murmured very softly, his voice shaking the slightest bit. "You don't want - me.. you can't want me..."
"I think I'm old enough to make that decision for myself," Cloud interrupted gently, fingers brushing his hair back away from his face. "And I do..."
Vincent shook his head, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he just closed his eyes again, and let Cloud kiss him again. After a moment, his good hand came up to curl almost hesitantly around the blond's neck, fingers slipping just inside the turtleneck collar. The claw-hand reached up to lay on Cloud's shoulder; he was sure it was "lightly" but the metal made it seem heavier. Slowly, he sank into Vincent's lap, arms winding around his neck and shoulders as the kiss deepened.
Mmm...?
You're not.. a virgin..... are you?
No. (At least, I don't think I am...)
Oh. You... you don't mind...?
No.. Don't stop....