9

He tried to remember how he got here.

It wasn't easy - being in the coffin wasn't true sleep; his brain still worked in a basic sort of way, but concentrating on one subject was difficult. Vincent, however, was stubborn - to put it mildly - and forced his reluctant brain to dredge up the memories.

He remembered sitting on his cot in the little shack.

He remembered warm arms and warm hands and warm mouths.

He remembered the sharp sound of metal bouncing along the wooden floor.

He remembered struggling awake, and Cid's heavy breathing, stirring against his throat.

He remembered trying to speak to the man, but he was asleep and wouldn't wake up.

He remembered small, strong hands grasping him beneath his arms, and dragging him.

Dragging him a very long way, out of dim light and into bright, then back to dim, his heels bumping against stairs as he was dragged up them, the already-healing ache in his sides and back the was the result of being tumbled down more stairs.

Then he was lifted, struggling slightly, slung over the sharp edge of what he had thought was a box, but now realized was his hated coffin. Dangled there, his head and shoulders in and his legs out, and that person had lifted his feet and shoved him the rest of the way in, then yanked him around until he lay flat enough for them to get the lid on.

Then it was dark.

It was still dark.

*

*

*

Cloud was driving down a deserted highway, going faster than he remembered this bike ever going, when the 'Highwind' roared by overhead.

He slammed on his brakes and whipped the bike around, just in time to see the big ship turn, as well, and settle down onto the barren plain.

Then the hatch flew open, and Cid jumped out.

"Are you all right?" he shouted, "Where's Vincent?"

Cloud heard the words even over the roar of his bike; he pulled up and turned the machine off just in time to be yanked into a bone-crushing hug.

"Are you all right?" Cid asked again, his voice just a whisper this time.

"I'm fine," Cloud replied, his own arms tight around the other man. "I don't know where Vincent is - Tifa told me Shera took both of you to Rocket Town."

"Shit! Damn that woman! I was just there - c'mon, let's go back and find him! Gonna strangle her..."

They quickly loaded Cloud's motorcycle onto the airship, then Cid - still grumbling and swearing - had the 'Highwind' back in the air and zooming toward his town at the highest speed he could manage.

He was babbling.

"Maybe she took him to her house? Nah, she wouldn't do that, she'd know people would tell me. Let's see - she could have put him in the old rocket, I think the door is still open - or there's an abandoned house or two at the edge of town... but how the hell does she plan on keeping him there?"

"Tifa said she used some restraints that you had."

"Oh, hell - those things are left over from some big-ass prisoner I was paid to haul to some high-security jail. He was some super-strong freak - a real freak, he had surgical alterations done to himself. Shit, a Mako beast on speed couldn't break out of those things! I'm gonna kick Shera's ass until she leaves my footprint behind every time she sits down!"

"Tifa also said that Shera had a specific plan for Vincent, but didn't tell her what it was."

"Shit, hell, and damn - again! That woman's tricky. This ain't gonna be easy, you know?"

"But it'll be worth it."

"Oh, yeah," Cid finally grinned. "It'll be worth it. Can't wait to get our Val back. C'mere, by the way, and gimme a kiss."

Cloud smiled through his worry, and got up.

He wasn't sure he could take much more of this.

The nightmares he'd suffered the first time he'd been crammed into this box were worse now - he had all those lovely visions of the war and Sephiroth to add a little variety to the mix.

It didn't help that he was laying in an awkward position, crumpled on his side with one arm trapped under him at an odd angle, long legs bent and jammed into the lower third of the coffin. He could sense the ache setting up in his body even though he wasn't awake, and he couldn't shift at all to ease the pain.

The ache in his soul was worse.

His memories were all confused and tangled together, but whatever Hojo had done to ensure that his long sleep in this box was full of nightmares was apparently still in effect. Every bad thing that had ever happened to him flashed in front of his eyes, twisted and made worse by his fevered imagination.

He wanted to scream.

He hated that he was so weak - he could be strong out there, in the free air, but in this box all his strength left him and he was like a shivering child.

Weak, pitiful, helpless...

The worry didn't help either - someone had put him in this thing and it could only have been an enemy - what had they done to Cloud and Cid? He couldn't bear the thought of them trapped somewhere else, with someone hurting them. What if they were expecting him to rescue them? And he was trapped here, with no way out until someone lifted that lid - would they hate him now?

Did they already hate him?

He felt a whimper force its way out of his frozen throat, felt his body start an involuntary trembling.

He wanted to die.

He couldn't take this - this time he would go completely insane. He just wanted to die, to leave all this, to be swallowed up by restful death and finally be at peace.

Cid and Cloud didn't need him. Wouldn't want him.

Not after he'd failed them like this.

The others - Tifa and Barrett and the rest - hadn't even cared where he was, wouldn't care if they knew he was trapped again in this nightmare.

He remembered the whispered words as his unknown enemy had shoved him into the box.

"...freak..." they had whispered, "...this is where you belong."

'I don't. Please...'

'Whatever I did to deserve it this time - I'm sorry.'

'Please let me out.'

*

*

*

"Where is he?"

The voice startled Shera; she dropped the delicate piece of machinery she was working with and it broke into a thousand pieces on the concrete workshop floor. "Cid?! You came back!"

"I asked you a question, damn it!"

She blinked at him, still smiling, oblivious to his scowl or the one of the blond boy lurking behind him. "Where is who?"

"Vincent, you bitch! We've checked every building in town and the rocket - what did you do with him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Are you hungry? I can fix you something to eat! It'll just take a few minutes..." She was stripping the work gloves off her hands as she spoke.

Cid clutched at his hair to keep from hitting her. "No, Shera. No food. Just talk. Tifa already spilled her guts, we know it was you. Where. Is. Vincent?"

Shera kept the sweet smile on her face with the greatest effort. "Tifa is obviously delusional, if she thinks I know where Vincent is. I haven't seen that man since the war ended."

"Shera..." it was a low, warning growl. Goodness, but Cid was sexy when he did that! "Shera, tell me now, and I won't throw you out of town."

"Throw me out of... what on earth are you talking about, Cid?"

"You know what I'm talkin' about!" the pilot nearly screamed. "You damn little bitch! Talk! Now!"

"Cid," Cloud said softly, "does Shera know where we found Vincent?"

"Huh? Uh, I guess so, I think I told her when she asked about him. Why?"

Cloud blinked at him, waiting for the horrible idea he'd just had to occur to the other man.

"Oh, no!" Cid had apparently got it. "She didn't... you didn't!" he shouted, turning on the confused woman. "You didn't take him back there?!"

"Back where, Cid?"

"I'll kill you! Why would you do something like that to a man you don't even know? You have to be the most sadistic little..."

"Cid," she said softly, reasonably, "why on earth would I want to put that poor man back in his coffin?"

"Who said anything about a coffin?" Cloud asked, glaring at her.

Shera blinked, her eyes shifting nervously. "Oh, but... you said where he came from, and that... that means his coffin..."

Cid was glaring, too. "I never told you about his coffin, Shera. I told you Cloud found him in a lab in the ShinRa mansion. How did you ever learn about his coffin?"

"The files." Cloud answered for her.

"Huh?"

"Vincent's files - Tifa says Shera's pretty much your stalker, and wants to know everything about everyone around you - Aeris took a lot of Vincent's files from Hojo's lab and they're still on the 'Highwind'. What do you want to bet that she's read them?"

Cid turned furious eyes on Shera, who nearly wilted. "Have you been going through the files in those boxes?"

"No, Cid." She tried for innocence, but the look in their eyes gave her the unsettling feeling that she had failed.

"Shera - be very glad that I don't have the time to waste on you. We're leaving. If we find Vincent there - well, you'd be a smart woman if you were gone when I get back. Never hit a woman in my life, but you'll be the first." He turned on his heel and walked out.

Cloud gave her a narrow-eyed, stony gaze. "You won't like what I'll do to you, either," he said, in a soft voice that made the little hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Then he turned and followed Cid.

A moment later, and she heard the distant roar of the 'Highwind' taking off.

She stood there for a long moment, thinking furiously.

"They were joking," she finally said to herself. "Cid loves me - he just feels he has to rescue that man. He just said that to look tough in front of his friend. Men - they're so silly. I wonder if I should have supper ready for him when he gets back. He should appreciate that. What was I doing before he got here?"

She frowned down at the shattered machine on the floor and went for the dustpan.

*

*

*

Dark, dark, and more dark.

Vincent had struggled his eyes open in one of the rare waking moments he sometimes experienced in his coffin, but he lacked the strength to do more than that.

Red eyes just stared sightlessly at the side of the coffin. There was no light, nothing for his enhanced vision to pick up.

Just dark.

"Let me out..." he pleaded softly, knowing no one was there to hear him.

Then he slipped back into sleep.

*

*

*

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Cloud asked suddenly.

Cid looked up, puzzled. They'd been flying in relative silence, both of them worried about their missing comrade. "Is what going to work?"

"This. Us. Me, and you, and Vincent?"

"I'm gonna make it work."

Cloud gazed at him, then shook his head. "I almost believe you."

"'Course you believe me. If anyone can do it, I can."

"You have a very high opinion of yourself."

"Nah - just know what I can and can't do. This definitely goes under 'can'. Just gotta get our pretty boy, and work on whatever the hell this has done to his messed-up head. It'll all work out. We all work good together, fight good together, no reason why we can't live good together."

"But we're all so different."

"That just makes life excitin', boy. Be boring if we all thought the same way."

"So you really think it's all going to be all right? All of us together?"

"Of course it will. You two can get all angsty and broody together, and I can smack you both at the same time. Cuts down on the wear and tear on my fists."

Cloud couldn't help but laugh.

*

*

*

It was late evening when they reached the ShinRa mansion. The old house loomed over them like a set from some old horror-movie vid. Felt like it too - the air seemed chillier here - despite the warm climate - damp and foreboding.

"Hate this place," Cid muttered, slinging a small bag over his shoulder. He'd insisted on bringing it, but refused to say what was inside.

"I don't like it very much, myself," was Cloud's quiet reply. "Let's just see if she put Vincent here, get him, and leave."

"Yes, oh mighty leader."

Cloud scowled at him and shoved open the front door. The first thing he noticed were tracks on the dusty floor - small, neat shoe prints and two odd thick lines.

"Someone dragging something," Cid said both their thoughts aloud. "Shera is too small to carry Vincent, though I got a feeling he ain't all that heavy."

Cloud just nodded. He started for the stairs, following the marks.

"Why'd she have to do this?" Cid grumbled, eyes darting around to search for monsters in the shadows. "Damn woman. Women. Both of them!"

"I don't know," Cloud replied softly. "Much as I dislike the idea of Vincent in that box, let's just hope he's really here and she didn't change her mind and chain him up in a cave somewhere."

Cid grumbled again, but nodded.

He followed Cloud down a hallway and into another room, ignoring his surroundings beyond looking for danger. He didn't care what the damn place looked like, he just wanted to get Val and get his boys out of here! They went down another set of stairs and neither said a word about the fact that the footprints remained, but the lines were replaced with patches. They knew what it meant; they were just grateful that Vincent healed as quickly as he did. They kept going, keeping their faces expressionless.

Cid did glare at the laboratory, though.

He didn't know much of what had gone on in here, but he knew enough to make him wish they could kill Hojo all over again.

They finally stopped when they were standing in front of a coffin.

A coffin that they had seen, not all that long ago, with its lid off and spiders happily building homes inside.

It was closed now.

And there were small hand prints in the dust on the lid.

And odd scratches on the side of the coffin.

They left bigger hand prints in the dust as they shoved the lid aside, and it was doubtful if Shera's heart had been beating as frantically as theirs.

Vincent was there.

Scrunched into the lower half of the coffin, laying on his right side, with his right arm pinned painfully beneath him and the claws of his left hand matched the line of scratches, digging into the side of the box like he'd tried to keep himself from going in.

They had no doubt he had.

His legs were bent until his heels were nearly against his thighs, his knees and the soles of his shoes pressed tightly against the sides of the coffin. Shera must have just shoved them in until she could pull the lid on smoothly; she obviously hadn't cared at all if Vincent was damaged by all this.

It was nothing like the peaceful-looking scene Cloud had seen the first time he'd shoved that lid away. Vincent had looked like a sleeping, dark angel, no matter the nightmares tearing him apart inside.

Now he looked like a broken, abandoned toy.

Cid leaned forward, his hands trembling slightly, and pushed back the heavy dark hair that hid Vincent's face.

The first thing they saw was blood.

Vincent's mouth and chin were covered with dried blood - he must have bitten a lip or his tongue in his sleep. Even now his jaw muscles were clenched tight, and his eyes moved rapidly behind the closed lids.

He was dreaming.

"Enough of this," Cid growled, and slid an arm under Vincent's shoulders, raising him slightly and supporting his head when it wanted to fall loosely back. Cloud gently worked the man's legs out of their cramped position until Cid could put his other arm beneath his knees, then he lifted the man easily from the metal prison.

And handed him straight to Cloud. "He don't weigh nothing, you can carry him easy. Get him out of here."

"What are you going to do?"

Cid glared down at the coffin. "Blow this thing sky-high."

Cloud managed a smile, even as he clutched Vincent to his chest. "There are explosives on my bike - I can bring some back down?"

"No, brought my own." Cid lifted the mysterious bag and grinned at him. "Delayed action bombs. Go on, get him out of here. I'll be right behind you."

Cloud nodded, giving the coffin one last glare, then he was running up the stairs, clutching the too-light, too-still form as tightly as he dared. He heard Cid swearing behind him, and the clank of metal against metal. He didn't look back, just kept going, until he was out of the house, away, standing in the safe shadow of the 'Highwind.'

When Cid came out a moment later, he found Cloud sitting on the ground. Vincent was draped across his lap, long legs outstretched, his head settled in the crook of Cloud's arm. The blond had a bottle of water and was trying to get the taller man to drink.

Vincent's eyes were still closed, and the water was just washing away the blood as it ran down his chin.

"I thought he woke up pretty quickly, last time," Cid said as he dropped down to kneel next to them.

"He did," was the quiet response, "but Shera didn't know what she was doing. I'm sure there were preparations Hojo went through - he wouldn't have just shoved Vincent into that cryo-sleep chamber."

"What kind of preparations?"

"I would guess there were medications, maybe some materia used. Vincent didn't bite his lips or claw the side of the coffin the first time. Something kept him calm and still, and woke him up fast in case Hojo needed him."

"I don't know if I should swear at the scientist or Shera."

Cloud smiled. "How about both?"

"Works for me." Cid reached out and touched Vincent's cheek. "Has he even twitched?"

"Not yet."

"Damn."

*

*

*

There was something different.

He wasn't quite sure what it was - he felt like his head had been wrapped in cotton, and then someone had taken a two-by-four to it.

He began to realize what it was - it smelled different. There was no musty, metallic scent of chemicals, no lingering trace of blood's coppery smell. The air smelled fresh, dry - there was a familiar scent of leather and warm skin on one side of him, machine oil and cigarettes on the other.

And there were voices, very familiar voices, talking above his head.

Something hard was against his lips, coolness flowing into his mouth and out, running down his chin to dribble on his chest. He swallowed, letting the coolness run down his aching throat, and the voices above him became excited.

Then a deep, angry 'BOOM!' shook the ground and he bolted upright, eyes flying open, ignoring the startled noises as he shoved whoever was holding him away and scrambled toward the nearest blurry safe spot.

Huh. A wheel.

Very big wheel, too... like something from the 'Highwind.'

Oh, so that's who those voices belonged to! He blinked rapidly, and Cid and Cloud's worried faces came slowly into focus. Cid was crooning at him, a steady flow of reassuring words and sounds, and Cloud was gazing silently, eyes hopeful.

Behind them, the ShinRa mansion was burning to the ground.

Vincent fought with confusion, disbelief, sorrow, fear... and finally gave in to the reaction his heart truly wanted to give.

He smiled.