Trauma

AN: I'm sorry for making you guys wait, I needed to proof-read this chapter and I just didn't have the will to do it = = I'm struggling with a pretty stubborn creative block, and I haven't been able to finish the next Journey chapter, either (although I'm forcing it, so be on the look out for the next chapter soon). I have two and a half more chapters of Trauma already written but I need to edit them, so hopefully I won't take as long as I did... Also, I really appricate your reviews. They're definitely encouraging me, but it's just a REALLY bad block.

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"Hey, I've gotta introduce yer to the new sweetness in my life," Cid exclaimed suddenly, tapping Vincent on the arm as he veered from their trajectory along Bakewell Close. As expected, the gunman followed him in from the dreary weather of Edge to a warm, cozy-small café. Several circular tables sat inside with a few dainty spiral chairs, but Cid weaved through them to the counter, where he waited for Vincent to join him.

The old woman behind the till smiled warmly at Cid, obviously familiar with his custom, but her eyes cautioned when they found Vincent approaching, as most people's do. She was a plump woman, in her forties, wearing a cooking apron. All the cakes sitting behind the glass screen on the counter were obviously home-baked by herself.

"Can I get a couple of them lemon biscuit, sponge things?" Cid asked as soon as Vincent had joined him, studying the displays with vague interest.

"Of course, love," said the woman fondly. She selected two intricately decorated, triangular shaped cakes with a pair of tongues and placed them carefully in two handy bags.

Cid paid her gil and took the first from the bag, holding it out for Vincent. "Best cakes on the planet," he assured.

Vincent eyed both the pastry and the pilot, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. "I only have your word on that."

Cid waved the cake enticingly. "Have I ever been wrong before?"

Vincent took it with a patented 'Valentine smirk' and, using a clawed talon to pull away his cape collar, took a bite. He savored the taste and texture for a teasing minute before finally swallowing.

"It's gotta be wrong for someone to eat like that," Cid remarked.

"I admit," Vincent began, ignoring his comment, "you might not be wrong."

Cid grinned, digging into his own bag for the other cake. "I'm never wrong."

"Of course, you wouldn't know they were the best cakes on the Planet unless you sampled every single one…"

"Well maybe I'll fuckin' do that," Cid said with a mouthful of lemon zesty cake. "But until I find somethin' better, these're the best cakes on the damn Planet."

Vincent simply smiled as he took another bite, watching Cid eat with a fond glint in his eyes. The pilot managed to finish first, licking the icing dust from the fingers of his ungloved hand. He caught Vincent's eye.

"What?"

The gunman merely smiled and leaned forward. To Cid's perverted pleasure, Vincent licked a stray smudge of icing from the corner of his mouth and pulled back. Cid could see his own reflection in those clear red eyes.

"Damn. I think I'm gonna call in at the store and get a bag of icing sugar and smoother myself in it."

Vincent blinked in response and finished his cake.

Edge was busy at the time of day they arrived. The only sufficient landing pads were thirty minutes from Seventh Heaven, giving Tifa and Cid a good opportunity to point out things that would be familiar to Vincent: The café that Cid insisted they frequent, because he loved the special tea they made just for him. The library that Vincent enjoyed browsing through simply because it was small, dark and quiet. And then there was the restaurant they had celebrated several Avalanche anniversaries in. The WRO guard unit trailed behind, four broke off to scour the area while the trio lingered at each location.

Nothing brought up any feelings of remembrance, Vincent looked at everything vacantly, trying to summon some sort of vague impression from the scenes they explained to him. Cid watched him, suffering that slow-falling sensation of dying hope. It was tearing him up inside; he wanted to be with Vincent every step in case he remembered, but it was killing him to be near the man.

When they arrived at Seventh Heaven it was late evening, and dusk was approaching. The lights of the buildings and street lamps illuminated their way. The bar was already open, and when they walked inside the bustle of regular customers welcomed them.

Cid held the door for Tifa and Vincent, and watched his partner's red eyes surveyed the room and people. Some of them tipped their chins or raised their tankards in greeting. Tifa's friend Mai stood behind the bar serving drinks.

"Anything bringing back feelings of familiarity?" Tifa asked above the talk of the customers.

Vincent shook his head but continued to look around, looking as blank as he had in Rocket Town. Cid caught Tifa's eye; they both knew the gunman wouldn't remember anything here.

"Let's take him upstairs into the house," the young woman suggested anyway, stepping closer to Cid.

He nodded and followed her as they guided Vincent behind the bar to the staircase, leaving the hustle and bustle of the crowded bar as they climbed into darkness. Tifa led them into the kitchen and turned on the light, then set about filling up the kettle for a drink. Cid hovered undecidedly as he watched Vincent taking in the room, looking at the various utensils and kitchen counter knickknacks that were absent in Cid's home.

"Sit down," Tifa commanded amicable when she turned and saw them both standing. She busied herself with cups. "Cid always had his tea, but you never really wanted anything," she directed at Vincent as he pulled out a chair. "Would you like one, too?"

"Yes, thank you," Vincent said as he lowered himself onto the seat, still eyeing various things.

Cid followed his line of sight, looking over the kitchen distantly, trying to see what Vincent might be feeling, seeing this room for the first time all over again. A rustle from the second doorway turned their heads to find Marlene emerging from the dark hallway.

"Marlene," Tifa smiled, holding out her hand for the girl to take, which she did do with a fond grin. Tifa pulled her into her body affectionately, a variation of a hug considering their height differences. "Where's Denzel?"

"He went out with Dager," Marlene answered, craning her neck up to look at the woman. "He'll be back at 7.00. Where did you go earlier?" She turned her large eyes on Cid and Vincent and caught sight of the cast and swathe. "Uncle Cid, what's wrong with your arm?"

Cid would have answered if he'd registered her question, but from the moment she had pressed her back to Tifa something alarmingly familiar niggled his brain and he lost focus of everything around him. Unable to look away, the sensation strengthened until something indescribable hit his brain like a ton of bricks – the room around him disappeared as he was plunged into his own mind. He saw a blurry image emerge from darkness of a man holding a gun to a teenage boy's head, their eyes turning to him suddenly, as though he'd startled them. The gun turned away from the boy and in a split second it was pointed at him. The next thing he heard was a storm of bullets deafening him as something red dived into his vision…

"Cid? Cid! Are you okay? Cid?"

He inhaled and blinked away the memory, feeling a sharp pain pounding away inside his skull. Tifa was bent over him, her hands on his face, her rich brown eyes swimming with concern. The fuzziness disappeared quickly, only the headache remained.

"I just saw a flashback," he said, brow furrowed as he recalled it back. It was easier now. "I was in that buildin', I entered a room and there was a man with a gun pointed at a hostage… but I must'ave surprised 'em. They didn't know I was there. Bastard shot at me." Cid forcefully blinked a few times, trying to gleam more details from the recollection. "Vince protected me… he was already in the room…"

Tifa lowered her hands but continued to watch him. She said nothing for a few seconds, letting him process his newly returned memory. "There was a hostage situation…?" She frowned, troubled. "Why?"

Cid shook his head. "No clue. I think there were more people in the room, though… got this vague sense there were. Damn it's like looking through a pinhole at a picture."

"But this is good, your memory's coming back," Tifa said, standing straight. "If we take you to more familiar places you might remember other things."

Cid nodded. "Yeah, better chance of that happening than…" He trailed off and glanced at Vincent, who had remained in his seat but had leaned closer during Cid's flashback. He caught sight of Marlene hugging Tifa's leg, looking at him with childlike worry. "Sorry kiddo," Cid said to her. "Been a bit under the weather."

"Have you lost your memory?" She asked.

"A little bit," Cid replied. "But it's comin' back to me."

"What happened?" She asked curiously.

Cid sat back in his chair. "Got caught in an explosion," he explained grandly. "But yer uncle Vince saved my as – uh, hide, so I live to tell another tale."

The girl giggled, but the chirping of a ringtone drew their attentions to Tifa's phone. The young woman glanced at the ID before answering.

"Reeve…" she greeted and listened as he spoke.

The sight of her phone sparked something else in Cid's brain and he recalled Vincent asking him something back at his house. He pulled out his own and flipped it open, shifting through the interface until he found the only two images he had, taken with the built-in camera. Both were of Vincent, and both were far too intimate to show him. He studied the first, remembering the day it had been taken. Vincent was crouched down on a woodland trail, against a background of sloping mountains. Little creatures had found the gunman a curiosity fit for investigation, and while other monsters fled from Chaos' presence, these little things had done the opposite. Just as curious, Vincent had bent down for closer investigation as Cid had snapped a photo. The inquisitive look on the gunman's face was captured perfectly in the photo, and Cid stared longingly for the same man to be with him. He closed the phone regretfully.

"That could explain it…" Tifa remarked in a tone that caught Cid's attention. He found her staring at him meaningfully. He sensed something important. "We'll bring him back to WRO immediately, this could be the whole answer to his predicament… Of course, see you in a short while, Reeve. I will. Bye." She closed her phone as her face shone with a brimming hope. "Yuffie found something with the doctor from Mayac. They think it might explain how Vincent's lost his memory."

The edge of excitement in her tone plucked up the same emotion within Cid, and he turned his eyes from Tifa's to Vincent. The man's eyes were clear with attention and he met Cid's gaze with barely concealed anticipation.

"What're we waitin' for?" Came Cid's rhetorical question. "Let's go."

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