Title: Dreary Decisions

Summary: After Deepground, Vincent just wanted to accept his fate in life and move on from Lucrecia. Unfortunately, fate is not so kind. Now, he must choose between saving the woman who still holds a piece of his heart, the man trying to win over his heart, and vengeance against the man seeking to ruin everything he holds dear.

Warnings: Explicit yaoi, graphicness, swearing, smoking, gore, angst, etc., etc.


"Give me the file," Vincent snapped as he continued to glare at the blonde. "Listening to you is really annoying me."

"Oh, is our meeting over?" Rufus asked with a smirk. "Don't you want to hear about the empty manor you, for some reason, think is not only restored, but clean?"

"Shut up."

"How have you been sleeping lately?"

"Shut up and give me the file," the gunner growled, pulling out his gun and pointing it directly in Rufus's face. "Now, ShinRa." Smirking, the blonde unlocked the cabinet before looking through the files and pulling out a folder, handing it to the gunner smugly, immensely infuriating the brunette.

"Might I offer a piece of advice?" Rufus asked as he watched the gunner with ice-blue eyes, orbs filled with sick mirth, unperturbed by the large caliber weapon pointing at his face mere inches away.

"What?" Vincent asked warily, wanting little more than to pull the trigger and turn the smug man into little more than a corpse and a splatter of brain and blood across the white walls.

"Stay away from Cid Highwind," the blonde said, his smirk growing colder. "We wouldn't want you to lose control, right?"

"I'm fine," the gunner snapped as he took the file from the blonde before exiting the room, ignoring the chuckling from the blonde as he left Healin. Walking back through the streets of Midgar, the brunette man slowly made his way to his small apartment. Opening the door with a lone key on a ring of metal, the gunner let himself in. The room was smaller than his old apartment in Kalm, but it was not a piece of rubble, so it would have to do for the time being. If he could avoid his neighbor; a sweet old lady who had taken to hanging around him and needlessly chatting up his ear; he could understand what was in the file and why the youngest, and only member, of the ShinRa family was so amused by Hojo.

Sitting back on his bed, not bothering to remove his boots or any of his getup, the brunette gently opened the file, frowning at the sheer volume of photographs. Picking up one of the yellowed images, the gunner examined it on all edges, frowning at the scrawled words written across the back: "CORONARY DISEASE. LIVER DAMAGE. SUBJECT: FAILURE."

Turning the image around, the gunner peered down at the small, freckled girl who smiled warmly back at him. Setting the photograph onto the bed, Vincent began to sort through the images, eventually ending up with three stacks of photographs. The largest of which were the failures in Hojo's project. None of the faces looked familiar to him. The second largest were the images marked with success; there were only three photographs in that pile. One was of his mother, smiling sweetly at the camera. The image of his father was dark, the serious man did not seem to get much enjoyment out of life. A young image of himself was photographed as well.

Vincent was tempted to tear up the picture of himself. His hair was more unruly that Cid's; dark hair sticking up in all directed as he smiled widely at the camera. He could barely remember that day. He was so pleased with his gun, something that his mother bought for him because his father wanted nothing more than the ex-Turk to become a scientist like himself. He mother was much more relaxed. She never tried to cram science down his throat. Never told him that he'd be nothing if he was not a scientist.

Anger welled in his throat and chest as he turned from the photographs.

It was sad. Even mere images of his late parents could bring him into a fit of rage. Looking over at the smallest of the stack, the brunette paused. There was just a lone image in the "stack." A young woman stood there, frail in appearance. Vincent could tell that there was no way that the tiny woman could weigh more than one-hundred and fifty pounds. Her hair was a mess and she was smiling widely, as if she new of a secret that she took delight in telling no one.

Something about the woman put Vincent into a calm, far more than the image of his own mother did. There was something about this woman that was familiar. The gunner wished that it was in color. Maybe if it was, he could tell more about her. Flipping the image over, the brunette paused. Nothing was written on the back of the image. No history, no subject information, no results.

Going back to the files, the gunner sneered at a handwritten page that appeared to be torn out of a spiral notebook. Time had yellowed the paper and faded the ink slightly. It did not hide the fact that they were in Hojo's scrawled penmanship. Reading over the note, the brunette sneered. This went far deeper than ShinRa let on.

"The test is inconclusive so far. Many have applied for the chance to be a part of history, but almost all have flaws to take them out of the running. Only four subjects have cleared the background testing. Three of those are from the Valentine family. Grimoire signed up his family; happy to assist a fellow scientist in his research. In a week, their blood will be tested."

The rest of the page was torn off.

Ignoring the typed test results for now, the gunner picked up a small disk. There was no writing on it that Vincent could see as he put it into a small disk reader that Reeve and Cait Sith had given him a few years back.

Static.

"That little brat of a Valentine bit me today! His bitch of a mother laughed as she assured me that he had gotten all of his shots. Just wait until he goes for the next round of testing. He'll see what pain is."

Static.

The remainder of the message was blurred out, making the gunner frown. He had bit Hojo?

"The project is a success. The Valentines were altered. Side effects: Alteration of eye color, moodiness, odd attraction to certain items/ideas, paranoia. More will be told as time passes. The Valentines are scheduled for another checkup in three months."

Static.

"Doctor Valentine killed herself today. Some claim it was stress; I know otherwise. Her attraction to death goes far deeper than I could have anticipated. Women are the weaker gender; only time will tell if Doctor Valentine's desires will off him as well. That will be a grand sight to see."

Static.

"She's been following me for weeks now. I'm not sure how she's been doing it; those goddamn Turks are supposed to make sure no one gets in! She keeps crying: 'he left me!'; 'what am I going to do!'; 'it's all your fault!' I would hit her if I'm sure she wouldn't shatter into a million pieces. She's fragile. Almost as if she's actually made of glass. I keep telling her that her enrolment into the program was of her own choice. She just storms away. I'm sure the bitch will be back tomorrow. If she brings her colossal boyfriend with her, maybe he can join the program..."

Static.

"Fuck. She's pregnant."

Static.

"I told the brute of a man I never slept with her; he didn't care. He's worried about the child. Ah...the child! Maybe the splicing of her genes will affect the fetus. ...What if the fetus was given more?"

Static.

"She missed her appointment yesterday. It is imperative that the fetus take every dose! If the body is completely formed, this one could end up just like the Valentines. Doctor Valentine is acting more erratic as the days pass; sleeping at odd hours. This fetus can be my greatest achievement! Human splicing at its finest!"

Static.

Vincent frowned again as the disk stopped playing. He did not know the results of his first subjects and he just kept on testing? Any sane person would have stopped trying to play with genetics and creating a perfect race when they begin to kill themselves. Picking up the photograph of the woman again, the gunner looked it over. She did not look pregnant. Nor did she look the type to let her unborn child become an experiment.

There was more to this project than ShinRa had let on. Perhaps she was ShinRa's mother? She seemed kind and Rufus's father was quite large, granted he was round in his later years, and could easily snap Hojo's frail frame like a toothpick. The blonde didn't mention that he was part of the project though...

Shaking his head, the brunette went to the typed files, reading them carefully as he tried to keep from jumping to conclusions.

Review if you want more. The secret to ending a cold: take two night-time cold pills and pass out for twelve hours of sleep. Worked like a charm.

Thanks for reviewing:

talinsquall: It's all disconnected. Unlike most of my stories, I'm trying to take my time with this one and let it develop. Any great writer, such as yourself, could take this story and run in a million directions and make it fantastic. I'm subpar so it'll make no sense for quite a while to come. Thanks for the advice; I have a plan for Cid, but that won't bloom for quite some time. (SPOILER ALERT) You'll find out more about Cid later; unrequited love, drama, trepidation, and romance by the end. I thank you for your criticism and ideas (doubt I can pull it off though).

mizperceived: Ha, your "bitch-smacking RooRoo" comment made me laugh all day. Huh, never thought of that. IT does explain so much: Yuffie wants him, nothing. Cid runs away (awkwardly, I might add), Vincent follows. Thanks.

reloudypie: Here you go! Wow, that would be one hell of a fic to make work while keeping them in character!

talinsquall: Eh, not that regularly; I get distracted sometimes.

ABNORMAL2110: Heh, thanks! I would do one of those, but it's so goddamn predictable. I hate that. (Mainly the reason I can't read many books or watch movies ... and play depressing games - you never know what can happen in those!) Aww, thanks! I try (such a lie, this is all LUCK). Heh, Vin's an odd one, that's for sure.

(no name): Why thank you, anonymous reviewer (who I am almost certain has reviewed anonymously before)! You are the reason this chapter is up today!